Warning: Final Chapter besides the epilogue
Chapter 45: Okay
Cressida limps onto the front porch, letting her broom drop from her hand and fall where it wills. The three boys behind her are silent and exhausted, presenting their own scrapes and bruises.
"Here." She cocks her to the side. James offers his arm out, wand in the other. "I'll see what I can do." Cressida nods and takes his arm but glances over her shoulder at Sirius and Bastian.
"Sirius can you please take Bastian home? Maybe stop by James' place if he's hurt. We don't have any dittany or anything for pain here." Sirius is just as exhausted as she is, but she wanted Bastian home and home safe. He had been safe on the main part of the cave but is stricken by fear and shock.
Sirius nods gently, then smiles at Bastian, gesturing back towards the door. Bastian follows and she glimpses him looking back at them just before the front door shuts.
"Are you hurt?" she whispers, patting down his chest. James shakes his head, leading them both over to the armchair in the living room. Cressida flops down into it, leaning her head into her hand. "I… I don't know whether that was successful or not."
James crouches down lifting her ankle. "It's gone, Cress. You destroyed it."
"And it almost cost all our lives."
"A price that we knew of going there," he adds with a sharp look. He mutters indistinguishable spells and a swell of relief grows from her leg. She rolls it around, murmuring her thanks and pulls James onto the chair's armrest, laying her head under his arm.
It is destroyed. The locket. It burst and they watched as the piece of Voldemort's soul was destroyed. They don't have long now. Voldemort knows. Elias should be watching him, waiting for the right moment.
They don't have time to rest.
"I need you to get all of Sirius stuff and take it to your place. Mine as well."
James nods. "Okay. What's your plan?"
Cressida tilts her head upwards. "I'm going to destroy the rest. I know how to. We can't wait." James nod again, smiling ever so softly. Against her own words, she doesn't move. She wants to stay there and continue looking up at him until her neck aches. "James? Are we alright?"
"I think so," he answers with an airy chuckle. "Are you alright?"
"I think so." He nudges her over and slides down into the seat of the chair with her and they press together in a tight fit. "I just… want to ask something of you."
His arm drifts around her shoulders. "Whatever you need."
Cressida readjusts herself, taking the spare moment to think. "I want to make sure that you're ok with me being selfish for a while." Her fists clench and release, twisting fingers around one another. "If I start really putting in effort to take care of myself before anybody else." She knows how silly it sounds, but asking would quench the guilt that curdles when she imagines it.
James stares at her for a little while. Then his lips draw wide. "Cressida, I would love for you to be selfish. I think that's the best idea you've had. Is there something you want to do or is this just a broad idea?"
"I have been going to therapy for a while," she confesses. "Obviously not in the past few months but I think I should go back as soon as I can. I don't want to work for a few months after all this either. I just want to read, visit people, maybe travel."
"You know-" he chuckles, holding a hand like he is cupping a ball "-I think I had a dream that went along these lines once. I'm proud of you, I really am. You're asking me for permission which I don't completely agree with, but I feel like it's just your way of acknowledging that this is something you want. I will support you in any way that you need, but on one condition."
Cressida nods hesitantly. Her mind runs with requests of things that send pangs of pain into her stomach.
"Can we get a cat? I really want a black and white kitten."
Her voice cracks. Then she laughs wildly, throwing her head back and forth. "Yes, of course we can get a cat." James fist-bumps the air. "Sirius will hate us for it."
"He can eat horse shit for all I care."
The pair empty the house of all their belongings – everything except the Horcruxes. Cressida decides that she'll do it as soon as they're both back. She didn't know what would face her, even if they were destroyed by the flames. James leaves, and Cressida is left alone once more to the quiet absence of her old home.
She trails a finger over the table, feeling the rough grooves of the wood. The Horcruxes sit in the middle. The diary, the ring, the cup, the diadem. Her thoughts and eyes move to the ring, or rather, the stone.
Cressida picks the golden band up, using her thumb to twist the stone around. She calls to it, willing it to do what it is made to as she wanders absently around the house.
"I was hoping I wouldn't see you so soon."
Cressida shrieks, the ring nearly flying from her fingers. Spinning on her heels, she sees a transparent figure standing behind her. Dressed in the same clothes that he worse when they last saw each other. Her hands drop from her face until they hang loosely by her side. "Reg?" she whispers ghostly.
The man with a face framed by dark curls smiles at her. "Suppose seeing you alive isn't too terrible though."
Part of her believes him to only be a figment of her imagination, but another part of her clings to the ring with all her strength. A choke takes her throat. "I did it. I got the locket. It's gone."
"I know. I was there with you. Your fiendfyre spell was impressive."
Cressida bows her head to hide her appreciate smile that mixes with the sudden onset of new mourning. "We're going to give you a funeral. A proper one." With or without a body. "I've got a plan. I'm going to do it today. Someone is watching Voldemort as we speak. We're going to kill him, Reg."
He folds his hands into the pockets of his robes. "Good."
She tries to smile at him by her lips curl inwards. "I'm sorry. That I wasn't able to save you. I really…really wanted to help you. I loved being your friend." A tear appears in her left eye but she hastily wipes at it before it reaches her cheek. "I wanted you to make things up with Sirius."
"I know. But I said what I wanted to in the letter. That's enough."
Cressida swallows the lump in her throat, glancing out the front window. "Maybe you could talk to him too, before I have to destroy the stone."
Regulus gives her a slow, singular nod. "If you think that's what he wants."
She doesn't know what Sirius wants with his brother, but she would offer it all the same. She holds the ring tighter, not wanting to let go of it because it would mean that it might be their last goodbye. Regulus couldn't stay in this world, no matter how much she desired it.
"I miss you."
"I miss you too." He smiles at her and it reminds her of the one he wore when they were at the fair. Then, Regulus' composure shifts, his head snapping towards the window and hands darting out of his pockets. "Cressida, someone is coming."
Cressida nods absently. "It's either James or Sirius," she mutters.
But Regulus shakes his head. "No. It's not. You need to go." She stares at him, watching the fear trickle over his features.
"N-no!" she cries. "What about Sirius!?"
"Now!"
Just like that one afternoon so many years ago, her front door explodes. Shards of wood splinter out in a cloud of dust and shavings. Cressida flies back against the force of the spell, the ring soaring from her hands.
She coughs and splutters, rolling back over onto her hands and knees. Her eyes immediately dart to the spot where Regulus' ghostly figure stood, but the apparition has disappeared.
"Knock knock! Is anybody home?!"
Bellatrix.
A wild cackle follows her taunting call. Cressida scrambles backwards, a blind hand hastily reaching for her wand. Three figures cloaked in black saunter through her once-again broken front door. Their shoulders are stiff and their wands at the ready. Behind Bellatrix is Dolohov and Rosier.
Cressida shoots the first spell that comes to mind – a stunning spell. It grazes Bellatrix's shoulder, causing nothing more than a short stumble. Her lips part theatrically, holding her arm as her crazed eyes find Cressida hiding behind the couch.
In a voice much more viscous than before, she growls, "There she is!"
Cressida ducks at the flash of green light which collides with the couch and leaves a gaping burn in the upholstery. She waves her wand out past the side blindly, surprisingly followed by a loud thump as she hits someone.
How did they find me?
Pulses of lights cascade the air between them, though the gap grows smaller each second. Cressida presses her back firmly against the couch, listening to their footsteps while she tries to think rather than act.
Her eyes glimpse to the side where the dining table still sits, and three Horcruxes still lay. The ring being somewhere along the ground. She needs to get them. No – she needs to destroy them. But she also needs to survive facing off three Death Eaters alone.
At the sight of black pants emerging from the side of her vision, Cressida cries out, flourishing her wand and rolling away from the spark of light flying at her. Coming out from her hiding, she enters a direct dual with Rosier and Bellatrix, barely defending off the two, scooting around furniture and using walls as her cover.
In a moment of a miracle, her spell collides with Rosier's chest dead-on and he flies back against the furthest wall, shattering the old picture frames hung. Bellatrix growls, watching her comrade collapse not entirely unconscious but enough to take him out of the fight for a span of time.
This was her chance.
Bellatrix rounds her arm in an arch through the air, a sharp, white light slicing towards her. Cressida wails as the light cuts through her left shoulder. Her screams only grow louder as she tests the movement of her fingers.
The mistake that her enemy makes is taking a moment to bathe in satisfaction. Caging her voice, Cressida raises her wand and mutters a spell.
A ball of flames erupts like a water hose from her wand. She hears Bellatrix scream, but there is nothing too see other than the rainbow mix of deep reds, oranges and the odd flicker of yellow. Like in the cave, a dragon forms from the flames and its roar shatters the windows.
Cressida screams again, the pain of everything mixing into one moment. She screams until her throat runs dry and stings. The house fills from wall to wall with the fiendfyre, leaving only her small gap of air left. She backs away, ending the power of the spell from her wand tip and leaves it to flourish on its own.
The pain in her shoulder is agonising. Her feet sway underneath her, but Cressida focuses every thought that she has on finding the back door. The metal knob burns her palm, but she does not feel it.
The open door bathes her in fresh air, but the heat still intensely begins to cook her. Cressida stumbles away from the house, hearing small explosions as furniture cracks and burns. The roar of the flames fills her eardrums which pulsate with each heartbeat.
Finally, the sob comes.
Her house is consumed entirely by the flames. They soar unnaturally far into the sky, and with each Horcrux that it destroys, the fire only grows in power.
"Cressida!"
She wants to call out to them, though her ears cannot distinguish the owner of the voice. But she is left silent and fallen to her knees. All she can do is pray that Elias knows that this is it.
"Cressida!"
Her wand raises, and with her last efforts, calls the fire to deplete. The flames shrink slowly.
A body skids around the corner of the house, dust painting the world behind them. The flurry of black hair tells her instantly that it is Sirius. Her wand drops from her hand, letting it roll away so she can reach out towards him.
Sirius falls to his knees at her side, his head snapping between her and the house. She leans onto him, his hard pants pressing against her burning shoulder. "I-I can't," she heaves. "I…I-I…can't."
"You're okay, Cress. You're okay."
So not the best writing, but after 426,000 words I think I'm a bit tired and had to get this done through a rough patch. Thank you for the people that are reading this for making it this far. It wasn't always the best story but it honestly gave me a good distraction from other things in life which I really needed. I've found myself longing to wake up in the morning to see responses as I have on here as well as other posting sites (one with over three thousand comments, so I'm not short on anything here). I posted almost every single day for about six months straight which really got me into the great habit of writing and I know fly through essay assignments.
I have an epilogue written which is more of just a brief glance into he near future and then I've actually added the first chapter of an original story that I am writing. I plan to take my time with this one and really go into in-depth drafting and re-writes. I know what I'm capable of when I'm not rushed by time. It is just the brief overview of the first chapter in it's earliest drafting stages so there is a lot of work to go into it but I'm prepared to craft the skill and get there.
So to sum up, thank you all so much again - I have a few other stories on my profile that you can check out (Tale of Time is probably the only one really well written in comparison) but... yeah. Thank you.