Chapter Nine:

What had I done?

My brain was aching as we went back home. My head hurt, my conscience hurt, and my feelings were in positive agony. I couldn't quite absorb what Jeanie had said. About me.

Maybe it was hearing such horrible things about myself that had made me kick her and steal the trigger. Or maybe she was right, and I was simply a bad person who wanted to have everything, no matter what it took to get it.

Either way, it didn't feel so good. No surprises there.

It was late night by the time we were back home, and I had already finished telling Mickey what had happened.

I thought he, of all dishonest people, would appreciate my stunt.

He didn't.

'' I don't understand,'' he said slowly, looking at the ceiling.'' Why did you do that?''

I swallowed hard. I didn't feel so good. I'd practically declared war on those in charge of the timeline, stolen time, and someone else's book. The least I should have had was my partner-in-crime's support.'' What do you mean?''

'' Why did you take the stick?'' he refused to meet my gaze, and his voice and pose seemed forbidding and stubborn.

Intimidated by a nine-year-old. I'd sunk so low.

'' What—why did I take the stick…?'' I repeated, unable to see where he was going.

'' Yes!'' he finally turned to face me and his expression was flushed and angry.'' Why did you take the stick? You had two choices. Stay here and really write the book, or go home and go back to your stupid life. What kind of choice did you make this way?''

'' That's the whole point!'' I said unhappily.'' I chose this so I wouldn't have to make the choice. So I could go home when I wanted to!''

Mickey's cheeks flushed an even brighter red.'' And the whole world is just supposed to hang on what you want? Did you think of me, with my life's money in your hands? Your parents? The lady who really wrote the book?''

I wanted to scream. So I did.

'' OKAY ALREADY!'' I shrieked.'' I'm selfish and cruel and uncaring! FINE! If you want me to go back, I'll just take the stupid stick NOW!''

I couldn't stand it any longer. People always telling me I was good for nothing, selfish, greedy. I wasn't. I really wasn't. I cared about things other than myself, and I knew I wasn't good for nothing. Why couldn't anyone see that?

Feeling hot and miserable and reckless, I gave Mickey a furious glare and lunged for the bundle that was my stick-in-a-jacket, intending to grab the stick and go home then and there.

But Mickey was quicker than I was (I'm not very quick even in the most dramatic of times). He darted forward and snatched the stick out of the jacket, then backed away. He hadn't been 'chosen' to go back by Jeanie and her gang, so nothing happened to him. I stopped, my hand stretched out in mid-air comically.

'' I don't want you to go back,'' he mumbled miserably.'' You misunderstood me. I wanted—I thought, if you'd chosen to stay…you'd be back for good.''

I pulled my hand back slowly, staring at him.

'' You want me to stay?'' I asked hesitantly.

'' Yes!'' he said, scowling at my right knee, which he seemed to be talking to.'' I did—I do. You're the only friend I ever had, I think. I wanted you to—I thought you'd stay, once you decided to. But then you went and cheated again, and now I'm going to be waiting for your mood to change and you'll suddenly decide to go back, and I'll be left here with no money, and no Harry Potter, and nothing but what I can remember.''

I swallowed again, feeling horribly guilty. I suddenly thought of what Jeanie had said, and I realized she was right, I'd deserved every rude remark she'd made, and now I was completely lost. I had no idea what to do. I could go on, make Mickey happy, steal the book and stay here forever. Or I could do what was right and go back home.

But, the trouble was, I wasn't quite transformed enough to go back home. Doing what was right—giving up everything I'd worked for, was just not tempting enough for someone only halfway to becoming a good person. I still had books to sell, rewards to reap…

'' Can I just stay?'' I asked Mickey at last, as humbly as I could.'' Stay until I make up my mind? I'm sorry about what I'm doing to you, Mickey, but some things I really need to think through.''

Mickey nodded ungraciously.'' I guess.''

But I noticed his expression, disappointed and lonely, as he left, and suddenly I felt guiltier than I ever had.

This was a decision that needed to be made, soon.

*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*

Guilt. It's so bad, guilt. Like ice and fire and insects all jumbled up in your intestines at the same time.

Horrible.

I couldn't stand staying in Martha's little hovel after that. I had to clear my mind.

So I took a walk.

This was an enormous breakthrough for me, by the way. Doing any form of exercise to clear my mind was unprecedented. Walking to think. Amazing.

It was a very long walk, too. I had a hat on to keep any nosy officials recognizing me, so I walked along undisturbed, for over an hour, until I suddenly found myself outside Mr Jones' bookstore. And weird thoughts went through my head.

Like how happy I'd been when the book was published.

Someone saying something about JK Rowling, from ' Welfare to Billionaire.'

Mickey saying,' Welcome aboard the H.M.S. Life O' Crime.'

My mother, shaking her head at me disapprovingly.

Welfare. Billionaire.

Chump, grinning gleefully at me.

Jeanie calling me 'useless'.

I missed my family. I missed whining all by myself with nobody to scold me when I did. I missed feeling like I couldn't mount to anything because I was no good at anything. I missed having an excuse to feel sorry for myself for having no friends. I missed being able to read Harry Potter without a pang of guilt hitting me in the gut. I missed having my iPod to myself, missed technology that didn't look clumsy and hi-def TV. Missed not having to worry about earning money and writing huge books and dealing with a nine-year-old undersized urchin.

The really bad thing was, I knew I'd miss not having these things more when I went home.

I stared at Mr Jones' store absently, and suddenly, I knew what to do.

*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*

'' Lucy-Ann?''

There isn't a word to describe the shock in Frizzy's voice. Perhaps striding into the shelter like that had been a bad idea.

'' Er, hi!'' I said cheerfully.

'' Lucy-Ann?'' repeated Frizzy, completely stunned at my arrival.

'' Yeah, it's me,'' I said brightly.'' Hello!''

'' Lucy—''

'' Yes, its Lucy-Ann!'' snapped Mickey impatiently. I'd brought him along.

Frizzy blinked and looked for the source of the squeaky voice. I grinned uneasily.

'' Uh, he's right here,'' I explained, yanking him upwards by the collar so she could see him. He was so short he'd been hidden under the desk in her office.

'' Oh, don't tell me you couldn't see me!'' fumed Mickey bitterly.'' That's just exaggeration, that is. I'm not that small!''

'' You keep telling yourself that, Tiny,'' I said bracingly and Frizzy had the grace to look apologetic.

'' I'm sorry, precious,'' she told him.'' But you really are a tad shorter than my desk. I'm sure you'll grow big and tall later on though, don't you worry. You're really quite an average height for a five-year-old, aren't you?''

Mickey's eyes widened and he started hyperventilating in indignation.

'' Er—he's nine,'' I said hastily before he could explode. Frizzy looked mortified.

'' Oh, preci—''

'' It's fine,'' he said in a strained sort of voice.'' I'm fine. I just…haven't hit my growth spurt yet, that's all.''

I snorted. It must've sounded louder than I'd meant it to be because he glared at me.

'' Anyway, Lucy-Ann, back to business,'' said Frizzy quickly.'' You were here because…?''

'' I wanted to apologize to you and the officials,'' I said, changing tack as I remembered.'' You know? The three guys? Because I cant go out with someone chasing me on the street every time, and I really should apologize for my behaviour.''

Mickey grinned.

Frizzy looked thoughtful, but she nodded and pressed an intercom button on her desk.

'' You're lucky they're close by, you know,'' she said.

I groaned. I'd been hoping I'd conveniently 'miss' them.

Ten minutes later Plain Clothes, Suit and Uniform walked into the office where we'd first met. All three of them stared at me as though I was a ghost as they sat down.

I still have no idea what their whole problem is. But I'd clear it up even if it meant having to lie through my teeth…again.

'' Hello!'' I began as brightly as I possibly could with three large officials looking at me with murder in their eyes.

'' What…do…you…want?'' snarled Suit before the other two could get a word in.

'' I'm here to apologize,'' I said firmly. Suit burst into mirthless laughter that had me glaring at him.'' And that wont help the theraputical process of forgiving and forgetting, you know?''

Suit stopped laughing and gave me his trademark ugly look.

'' And why should we forgive and forget?''

I sighed.'' Because you are going to end up bursting a blood vessel like this.''

'' Suddenly all worried about my health, are we?'' he grunted furiously.

I scowled.'' Look, dude, if you're going to be childish about this then I'm sorry I tried at all. We're all going to act like adults now and straighten this out.''

'' Yeah, ri—''

'' You need to quit your immature attitude,'' I went on.'' And hear me out.''

'' Listen, little g—''

'' Now, mate,'' said Plain Clothes, smirking.'' You need to be mature about this.''

Clearly, his colleagues enjoyed needling him as much as I did.

'' I want to get this behind us,'' I added,'' so I'm going to say this now. I'm sorry for the way I treated you. You were only doing your jobs.''

The three men stopped moving abruptly and stared, open-mouthed at me. Whatever they had expected, this was not it.

'' Yes,'' I plowed on ruthlessly. Now that I was on my goody-goody bandwagon, I wanted to do this right.'' I am absolutely sorry. Terribly sorry.''

A glop of drool gathered at the corner of Plain Clothes' open mouth.

'' Meh,'' he croaked. I immediately added that to Oh, Huh, Er and Ah joyfully.

'' I think you apologized sufficiently,'' Mickey put in.'' They got it. Shall we?''

Oh, right. I remembered I had to go before they absorbed the fact that I was still a runaway under questioning. They had been so stunned by my apology they seemed to have forgotten their very existence.

And so, Mickey and I gracefully took our leave, running out of the shelter yet again, before they could realize what was going on.

As for myself, I was perfectly satisfied. One down, a couple to go.

*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*

'' Mickey,'' I said gently, sitting on the edge of the bed.'' It is time.''

Mickey looked at me tearfully.'' Do we have to?''

I nodded.'' No matter what happens, I need to prove Jeanie wrong. And to do that I have to believe I have a conscience, and treat everything as I should.''

Mickey's face crumpled.'' But the torture!''

'' I know, Mickey,'' I said with a deep sigh.'' I know.''

And then the two of us pulled back our sleeves, took deep breaths, and began to clean up the hideous mess that was my room.

It was tedious work. Harry Potter is a messy job that leaves carcasses of drafts everywhere. We cleaned, we gathered, we washed, we tossed. We even swept and mopped and organized. I made the bed; Mickey cleared up countless crumpled papers, several of which were torn-up remains of Harry's death. I cleaned up the bathroom delicately; Mickey picked up the various empty pens strewn over the floor that had tripped me up countless times. I threw out the garbage; Mickey—sat around pretending he was a wizard with the pens as his wands.

I yelled at him for a few minutes – he tried to ' Avada Kedavra' me, but it didn't work, unsurprisingly, now that he'd read Goblet of Fire – until he went back to cleaning.

Finally, several hours' worth of hard work later, the room was spotless for the first time in nearly five months. The four books I'd written so far were stacked neatly on the shelf, my iPod on the table charging, and the bed was made, the wallpaper free of ketchup stains.

Mickey and I eyed our handiwork proudly.

And then my eyes fell on Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, still only half-written, waiting to be completed, and my stomach gave a now-familiar, unpleasant, lurch.

*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*

I went out alone again the next day, taking the same long walk I'd taken the day before. I ended up right outside Mr Jones' bookshop, people going in and out busily on the fine, foggy morning. More than one came out with a copy of Harry Potter, I was pleased and uncomfortable to see.

'' Mr Jones?'' I called as I went in through the front door. The grumpy little old man hobbled out from behind his shelves to glare at me.

'' Yes, Lala, or whatever your name is?'' he said, snappishly.

I felt scandalised. Lala?! Lala? What? I was about to explode, and remind him forcefully that I was no song he hummed, but I reminded myself to be nice.

'' It's Lara. With an R.''

'' Like I care how you spell your name. Honestly,'' he grumbled, and I felt a sudden jolt. I'd thought those very same words once. Mickey had been right. That was exactly how I'd seemed—like a grumpy, little old man.

I felt increasingly horrified at myself. A bad-tempered little old man. Whatever next? How low can you go?

'' Mr Jones,'' I said at last, my voice hoarse.'' I'm here to – make up – for something I did. Well, not me, but I didn't stop it—''

'' What do you want, girl?'' he said suspiciously.

I pushed my hands into my pockets and came out with several hundred pound notes, curtesy of my stolen book's earnings.

'' This,'' I said, my throat dry. Giving away money. Who'd have thought?

'' What is the meaning of this?'' he said sharply, looking at the money in my hand as though it were dangerous.

'' Please, sir,'' I said politely, something I haven't had much practice at.'' Please take this. It's yours. Mickey stole it from you about four months ago, and I wanted to return it.''

Mr Jones' alarming expression suddenly softened, to my relief.'' Ah, I see.''

I waited, but he didn't take the money.

'' It's no matter,'' he said quietly.'' I knew he'd taken it, m'girl. Don't you worry about it.''

I stared at him, surprised.'' You knew?''

He shrugged.'' Of course I did. All along. But I've known Mickey a long time, and he's a good little lad. He never took it if he didn't need it and I'd never take away from him. He needed all the help he could get 'fore he met you, and the two of you published that book of yours.''

I was still staring.

'' Speaking of which,'' he continued.'' That book of yours is pretty good for my business! People buying it all day. I'll call it even then, between your book and my money.''

I smiled weakly, still fairly stunned, and walked back out the door after he'd hobbled away, groaning about some disease or other, and I stuffed the money back into my pockets.

And suddenly, being compared to that grumpy old man didn't seem like such a bad thing after all.

*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*

And then there was only one thing left to do.

'' I'm sorry, Mickey,'' I said softly.'' But you know it has to be done.''

Mickey's lower lip trembled. We were sitting outside Mr Jones' bookstore in our dirty little old alley, because goodbyes in Martha's horrible house, however grateful I was to it, just didn't seem right. I'd asked him to meet me there after my conversation with Mr Jones, which still had me faintly reeling.

I stood uncomfortably in the dusty alley, my hands stuffed in my pockets. Mickey looked so miserable I couldn't quite bring myself to just let go and leave.

'' You don't really have to go, you know,'' he mumbled, looking at my knees pointedly the way he usually did when he felt unhappy. I sighed.

'' I know,'' I said quietly.'' But I cant stay. I have to prove everyone wrong, everyone who thought I would take the easy way out. Jeanie. I cant stay here and let my guilt eat me up while I sit around enjoying someone else's hard work, you know. I guess—I never thought it would feel this bad.''

Mickey looked mutinous.'' You know, when I became your partner in crime, Lara, I thought you'd be up to crime. Not do it and feel guilty just when we start to enjoy our rewards.''

I sighed again.'' I know, Mickey, I know. I wish I could've done it. I really do. Guess I just wasn't as conscience-less as I thought I'd be.''

'' If I get chosen,'' said Mickey sulkily.'' I wouldn't wimp out and stop. I'd steal someone's book and do it properly. If I get chosen I'd go all the way through.''

'' I'm sorry,'' I repeated. There wasn't much else I could say.

Mickey looked up at the sky.'' Well, guess this is it.''

I smiled suddenly.'' Wait!''

He paused and looked at me fully for the first time since we'd arrived. I kept grinning and pulled out—my iPod.

'' I want you to have this,'' I said with a huge smile.

Mickey's mouth dropped open and he took is hesitantly, holding it as though it was made of glass.

'' Really?''

'' Yeah!'' I said generously.'' Sure, take it.''

Mickey gave me an awed look, tinged with suspicion.'' You'd give me this? It's your most prized possession…''

I kept smiling and then he suddenly started.

'' Lara,'' he groaned.'' You forgot. All traces of you will be erased. I wont keep it.''

'' I know,'' I said brightly and he glared at me.'' What, you actually thought I'd give it to you? I havent gotten that unselfish yet, Itty.''

He scowled at me as I burst out laughing.

'' No' nice,'' he snapped and continued sulking. I stopped laughing and turned serious.

'' Mickey, you need to listen to me,'' I said, genuinely worried.'' I want you to stop stealing. Really.''

He looked at me incredelously.'' What on earth, Lara? Just because you've gone and saintified yourself—''

'' I haven't 'saintified' myself,'' I snapped back at him.'' I've been trying to talk to you about this for a while. I want you to get a job at Mr Jones' store, help him out, so he can help you out.''

Mickey looked at me worriedly.'' Lara, are you sure the genie didn't do something to you?''

'' I'm serious!'' I yelled.

'' Oh, God,'' said Mickey in shock.'' You've been schizophrenic the whole time and I didn't know it.''

'' I'm not schizo!'' I shouted in exasperation. Actually, I wasn't too sure about that, but I was also sure I'd wanted to help Mickey out for a long time. And where on earth did he learn that word?!

'' Then what are you talking about?'' he said numbly.'' Me and Mr Jones? That guy is mad, Lara, mad, I tell you! Did you hear him say he had heartburn and a stroke all at the same time? He thinks he's dying of terminal cancer every day. I'd go mad if I tried working with him.''

'' You don't understand,'' I said patiently.'' That old man really cares about you, Mickey. He'd take care of you if you needed anything, and you could help him with his shop. Please, please, please, Mickey.''

'' Wow, triple pleases,'' he said faintly.'' You must be serious.''

I sighed yet again.'' That's all the advice I can give you, Mickey.''

'' So this is it?'' he said again, and then focused his gaze at a spot beyond my right shoulder so he wouldn't look me in the eye.

'' Yep,'' I said, trying to sound as nonchalant as I could.

'' You're leaving? Going back?''

'' Yep.''

'' To your obscure life, knowing you could have been the author of Harry Potter, richer than the Queen, more famous than Sir Arthur Conan Doyle?''

'' Yep.''

'' Destined never to be in the Guiness Book of Records?''

'' Yep.''

'' Even after you fixed everything you've done here for no good reason?''

'' You know I apologized to prove Jeanie wrong. You know I gave the money back because it wasn't right.''

'' I do know. I was just trying to make you stop saying 'yep'.''

I rolled my eyes at him. My throat felt unusually tight, as though I might actually regret leaving Mickey behind. Maybe I was just dehydrated.

My stomach was giving me strange pangs as well. Must be malnutrition. I couldn't possibly miss Mickey. He was the most irritating person on earth after me, for crying out loud.

'' You know, Mickey,'' I blurted out before I could clap a hand over my mouth.'' You're the only friend I ever made, actually.''

Mickey's eyes opened wide.'' Really?''

I nodded mutely, unable to believe I'd just admitted that.

'' That's so…'' he paused, looking awkward.''…pathetic.''

I sighed one more time and he grinned at me.

'' It's time,'' I said quietly as a clock somewhere chimed noon. Maybe it was Big Ben. I could hardly believe I'd been to London, let alone written Harry Potter.

Speaking of which.

'' There's something I have to do first!'' I cried hastily and rushed over to the backdoor of the bookstore, flinging it open. Mickey followed me curiously, utterly nonplussed.

I nearly threw Mr Jones aside as I reached the new releases shelf and snatched the copy of my Harry Potter desperately. I gazed at my name at the cover, awed that I was really about to give it away. I couldn't. I'd worked so hard. Harry Potter. I was going to give up the authorship of Harry Potter?!

Mickey stared at me as I hugged the book, almost sobbing at what I was about to give away.

'' HARRY POTTER!'' I wailed.'' I WROTE HARRY POTTER AND I'M ABOUT TO GIVE IT ALL UP!''

Mr Jones retreated hastily to one of the farther shelves, muttering something about his eardrum and preserving it. I was too busy moaning to notice. Mickey was still staring at me, trying not to laugh.

I looked at the book wistfully.'' Give it up. Harry Potter. Me. Lara, me. I could have been the one writing it. The one who took all the credit. Me. Give it up.''

'' You could just stay,'' said Mickey with a surprisingly sensible tone as my gaze swivelled between the book, well on its way to becoming a premature bestseller, and the stick, wrapped in my jacket even now, next to me.

'' I could,'' I whispered desperately.'' I could stay. Never mind the plan. Who cares about stupid guilt? I wrote Harry Potter! I have no limits!''

'' Except your own silly conscience,'' Mickey put in helpfully. I glared at him as I clutched the book closer, murmuring,'' Harry Potter…''

'' I'll stay!'' I said, breathing hard, nodding maniacally.'' I'll stay. Stay with my precious, precious book!''

Mickey's eyes widened.'' Hey, you sound like the Tolkein book! Gollum!''

I glared at him again, then realized he was right. I couldn't help it. It was my precious. My precious, precious version of Harry Potter. The miracle nobody could ever discover. I could do it. I could live with my guilt. I could give my life up and hang on to my precious book.

'' I could stay, couldn't I?'' I breathed greedily, looking at my book, Harry Potter, with my name where JK's should be, with obsessive longing. Mickey eyed me warily.

'' You have to choose, Lara,'' he reminded me, and suddenly the choice seemed shockingly easy.

'' I'll stay!'' I declared forcefully, looking down at my precious book to strengthen my resolve.'' I'll stay. I can do it. I can stay. Stay with my Harry Potter. Keep it. Yeah.''

I stared to get up, still holding Harry Potter tightly. Mickey grinned at me, looking greatly amused and not in the least convinced, though I was deadly serious. I couldn't give it up. Just looking at that book on the shelf had been enough to change my mind. Harry Potter! I'd be a fool to give it up!

And then as I got up, disaster struck, as it always did. I tripped over my bundle of a jacket, and slipped, crashing back to the ground, where my book tumbled out of my hands. I fumbled for it wildly, struggling to get up and my finger tugged at my jacket in my frantic scramble. It fell open very slightly, but it was enough to let the stick roll out of it, and then as I grabbed at the book to get up again, I touched it.

I gasped and looked up at Mickey for the briefest moment. He shrugged at me, and I shrugged back regretfully.

'' Bye,'' I managed to say before there was this bright, bright glow, and I disappeared for the second and last time in my life.

*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*

Blinding white.

The trip in Limbo had been very short. I'd barely had time to panic.

And then, suddenly, I was opening my eyes to whiteness everywhere, everything white as bone. White as snow.

What was going on?

I tried to sit up feebly, realizing I was lying down, but I felt unusually weak and exhausted, as though I'd been running more than five whole minutes.

My eyes narrowed as things started to come into focus, shapes suddenly emerging from the bright whiteness.

The first thing I saw was my mother. Her face was white, too, as though she'd been very worried. She gasped when she saw me looking at her, and her face lit up.

'' She's awake!'' she cried, and I was surprised at how strained her voice was.

And then I made out the other shapes next to me, Chump and my dad and a—nurse?

A nurse?

I was in the hospital.

I choked soundlessly, panicking as everything burst into my brain, feeling confused and disconcerted. What had happened? Wasn't I supposed to come back in my garden?

'' Ma?'' I said weakly. My mother came closer, and I saw that all that white had been simply bedspreads and sheets. How stupid of me.

'' Oh, Lara, sweetheart!'' she said anxiously.'' I've been so worried. Are you okay?''

'' I'm fine,'' I said quickly.'' I'm all right, really. I'm just wondering—what happened?''

'' You've been unconscious for about four days now,'' she said reluctantly, looking at me searchingly, as though something was wrong.

'' Un…'' my voice cracked.'' Unconscious?''

Chump suddenly spoke up.'' Yeah. You got knocked out—at my football game, remember? You got hit by a can and you blacked out. Doctors said you got a mild concussion.''

I swallowed. Swallowed hard.

I wanted to cry. I couldn't believe what was going on. I'd been dreaming the whole time. Everything that had happened had been a dream. Me becoming better, Mickey, writing Harry Potter. It had all been one, big, bump-induced dream.

I suddenly hated the world.

But I had to reassure my family first. They were looking at me so anxiously I was the one worried.

'' What's wrong?'' I asked awkwardly.

'' Well,'' my dad hesitated.'' You arent—complaining. Usually you'd have something to say…by now, you know.''

'' Er—'' I said uncomfortably as I remembered.'' Oh. Right. Well, I have nothing to complain about now. In fact, I'd just like to say how much I missed you all when I was out cold.''

Chump looked horrified.

'' She's been replaced by aliens!'' he said hoarsely. I glared at him. Escape from a Mickey – an imaginary Mickey who was never real, I thought bitterly – only to get stuck with reality's Chump.

It had all been a stupid dream!

I really hated the world.


Author's Note: Worry not, i would never end a story like that! But i would stop here for reviews ^^ Sooooo reviewreviewreviewreviewreview!!! Or i shall send Jeanie after you!