Disclaimer: Anything you recognize belongs to J.K. Rowling. The first sentence of the story comes from the book, "My Sister's Keeper," by Jodi Picoult.
Lily
When I was little, the great mystery to me wasn't how babies were made, but why.
I never wanted a sister. They seemed like too much trouble and I already had a younger brother. What did I need a little girl to play with for? Girls cried when they got skinned knees and wanted to play dress up with dolls and braid hair. I told my parents I didn't want her. I didn't want her to come home from St. Mungo's with mummy. Our family was already complete. Didn't they love me? Didn't they love me enough that they didn't need any more children? What did they need a little girl for?
Whenever I complained my father would give me a small smile. He said I would love her. He said I would fall in love with her when I got used to her and I would want to play with her and protect her just like Uncle Ron did with mum.
I didn't believe him but my father was right. Lily was amazing and she was annoying and whiney and got on my last nerve whenever she cried and stole their attention but as she grew she clung to me. I was the first person she walked to when she started to walk, wobbling ever so slightly and almost falling into the glass coffee table that each of us had gripped onto when we were her age. I was the one that she would fall asleep on after a nasty bought of dragons pox, her little hand gripping a piece of my long hair or clinging to my earlobe, stretching the skin, cooing softly in my arms.
It was me, not Albus, who would count the freckles on her face to teach her, her numbers. It was me who held her hand when mum cut her bright red hair for the first time when she turned three. I watched Lily. I was her watchdog, her guardian, her brother who never let her too far out of his sight.
Honestly it was my fault she got sick. I don't care what mum and dad think, they're wrong. It wasn't them, no matter how much they yell and scream and blame each other, they really should be yelling at me.
I was jealous when she was born…
"I don't want to see the new baby!" I screamed, banging my fist on the side of dad's leg. He winced in pain and struggled to keep Albus lifted in his hands with one hand while holding me with his free one, ready to tell me off.
"James, you're going to love her. She's your little sister. One day you'll see."
I pouted and jutted out my lower lip, tears welling up in my brown eyes. I didn't want to see her. She was going to be yucky and want me to sing to her like some baby and wear pink all the time. At least Albie had the sense to try and wrestle with me even though I was bigger and stronger and smarter so I could always beat him at every thing. Why couldn't I get another brother? Or an older brother? Someone to fly a broom with or run after wrinkly gnomes.
St. Mungo's was white, daddy held my hand leading me through swinging doors and directed me towards a room. I could see the rest of our family, Uncle Ron and Auntie Hermione, walking down from the opposite side of the corridor but daddy was too excited to notice because he wanted to see the baby.
A loud wail made me cover my ears. Mummy had a bundle of blankets that was moving in her arms and she looked tired like when she cleaned the house and daddy cheered her on, telling her she did a good job while he drank pumpkin juice in his seat and ate his bacon and eggs. Mummy never liked when Daddy cheered her on. She said he was being mean and then would start mouthing off letters, trying to spell something that made my head hurt.
D-I-V-O
The letters always got jumbled when I tried to spell them out.
Daddy sat Albus on the bed and picked me up, placing me next to mummy and the baby.
"James, look," Mummy said softly, bringing the bundle closer to me, "this is your new baby sister, Lily. Isn't she perfect?"
I squinted my eyes and scrunched up my nose, examining her critically. She didn't look perfect to me. She looked yellow.
"She's a funny color. I don't like her."
"She's beautiful, Ginny," Daddy said, giving mummy a kiss on the cheek.
I wish I could have used my words more. Warned my father and my mum that the baby was a little yellow in the face but I didn't know that the color mattered then. She could have been green and I think my parents wouldn't have batted an eyelash. I wish I was older then, smarter. I wish my parents were too but there's only so much they can know, so much one can worry about. You don't think when you have two healthy kids that the next one will have any problems.
Lily wasn't perfect but I loved her anyway. My parents aren't perfect but I love them anyway. The Healers didn't know anything...
When Lily turned four everything started to change.
We were on holiday. My father had finally been able to take off from work, said that the 'baddies' out there were going to get a bit of a break too because he needed to rest. Mummy wanted to go some place by the sea, some place we could all wet our toes and lay back during the night, staring up at the stars.
I didn't know exactly where we were but it was the best place I had ever been before, next to a Quidditch match.
I had never seen my parents so carefree. Mummy sang in the kitchen and even let the dishes soak in the sink instead of cleaning them right after meals. Daddy danced with her around the room even though they had the wireless off and the three of us were left to ourselves.
It was the third night, right after dinner, that something went wrong. Lily kept complaining about her stomach. It always hurt her and mummy was always rubbing it or daddy was always bouncing her on his knee, trying to make the funny feelings go away.
That day Lily was quieter than she normally was. Daddy was reading Albie a book while Mummy listened and flipped through a magazine. I told Lilbie I would sit with her because she refused to move, refused to eat her food and mummy said she couldn't leave the table without eating her green vegetables.
I didn't know what to do when my sister fell in my arms and started jerking around wildly, eyes rolling back in her head.
All I could do was scream. All I could think was that she must have fallen asleep. Mummy cried while Daddy scooped her up and shouted for Mummy to move and floo to St. Mungo's.
I tapped my foot, pausing as I turned over a piece of parchment that I had just been staring at. My hand reached for a glass of water that was nearby and I drank it greedily, eyeing the others that were staring at me. I could feel their eyes but I wasn't really seeing them even though I was looking. I was looking for someone in the crowd, for someone that I knew was no longer there.
My father and mother were sitting next to each other with Albus slumped next to them, tears rolling down their cheeks silently. The rest of my family, the Aunts and Uncles, the cousins and grandparents were silent, unmoving as they listened to my words. Waiting for me to say something but the memories were weighing me down, I was only standing up at the altar for a minute, trying to say something of substance.
"I…"
The Healers did nothing…
"Lily! Stop fussing! They're just going to give you a check-up. Lily stop it." A twelve-year-old Lily turned her head and stared at me, tears falling from her eyes.
"James, it hurts. Make it stop hurting."
I pressed my hand on her stomach gently while Albus gulped behind me. He didn't like to see Lily hurting like any of us but he was afraid of touching her, rarely did because the last time he did he bumped into her and she screamed, bruises quickly appearing on her body. She couldn't get up the next day and ever since then he rarely interacted with her.
Mum and Dad were on the other side of her, trying to wipe down her sweating forehead as we all waited impatiently for the Healer to come into the examination room.
The Healer walked in, a grumpy old man that was mumbling something under his breath and shooed us away from Lily who was sitting on a table and kicking her legs, wriggling to try and get away from his large hands.
"You're hurting her!" I shouted with horror, watching as he pressed his hands over her round protruding stomach. She groaned and closed her blue eyes shut, her breath hitching.
"She's fine," he grumbled, opening her mouth and then closing it, looking into her eyes and then peering at her ears. "She's faking it. There's nothing wrong with her. Put her on a diet."
Dad said nothing but glared at the Healer, putting his arms around my sister and walking straight out the door.
The Healer was wrong. He was the first of many until one-day Lily's stomach got so hard and big that my parents had had enough. My father walked into St. Mungo's and he demanded they do something to help his daughter. He was Harry Potter after all; he had made it possible for all of them to live in a world where there was no danger.
Of course, there is always danger.
I take another sip of the water and then put the glass down, fidgeting with my black tie, inhaling and exhaling slowly. The room is filled with lilies.
My eyes flit over towards my brother, watching the grim expression on his face and the way he runs a hand through his shaggy dark hair, green eyes sad and lifeless. I'm sure if I looked in the mirror I would appear the same way.
"I…don't know where to begin," I say, my voice shakily filling the room. "There are so many things that I want to say."
There is a loud cry, a wail that stops me from continuing my speech and everyone turns to stare at my Uncle George, large, red, nearly bald Old Uncle George. He took it harder than my other Uncles. My mum says it's because he had a twin brother who died too young too.
Aunt Angelina pats him on the back gently as he cries. I can't find the words again, the memories are overwhelming me and I shake slightly, trying to read the words that are scribbled on the parchment but it's hard to read with the tears that are coming from my eyes.
It took five Healers to finally figure out what was wrong with her but by then it was too late. My family was falling apart.
"Mrs. Potter, please—"
"Don't tell me to calm down!" Mum shouted.
Lily was crying next to me. My hand rubbed her shoulder and Albus's hand was on top of mine, not wanting to touch our sister.
"I don't understand," Dad said quietly.
His voice was breaking and he looked really tired. He kept taking off his glasses and rubbing his eyes like he was trying to wake-up from a dream.
"Mr. Potter, as I've said," the Healer started slowly, "your daughter has a tumor inside of her. That's why she isn't growing. That's why her stomach is so hard. It needs to be taken out."
"What does that mean? How is that possible? I've never heard of that before!" shouted Mum, shaking her hands in the air. "How could none of you figure that out before? We've been here so many times!"
St. Mungo's was becoming a second home to us. Lily was always sick. A cough turned into a cold, a cold turned into the flu. No matter how many times mum gave her a pepper-up potion nothing seemed to help her.
The Healer shook her head sadly and folded her hands on her desk, giving my parents a look.
"Because it's not a magical disease," she said slowly. "It's…very rare in the magical world. Magic can't do anything to help her. I'll have to refer you to a muggle doctor."
Mum gave the Healer a horrified look while Dad patted her on the back.
"What do you mean? How would she get it then? She's magical. She has magic inside of her. She's not a muggle—"
"I'm not a pureblood," Dad said, shaking his head sadly. He let go of mum and crossed his arms against his chest, staring down at the floor. "This is all my fault."
Mum hiccupped next to him and rubbed his back gently. "No, it's my fault. I'm the one that fell in love with you."
That's when the fighting started. We were all old enough to understand what was going on downstairs. The whisper fighting, the stares and glares they gave each other during dinner. My parents could survive a war but they could not defeat a disease.
The muggle hospital didn't look as white and sparkly as St. Mungo's. There were no waving of wands or potion vials but bottles of medications and tubes.
I would sit with Albus in the waiting area while they poked and prodded my sister. While they cut her open and left scars on her body, removing parts of her stomach and intestines, parts of the body that I never gave any thought to. They created a hole on her body, covering it up with a bag that I never fully understood the point of.
The first time I saw it I asked if it was because they were trying to keep her insides from seeping out. My sister cried hysterically at the thought, she was only thirteen.
"I…I'm sorry," I said loudly, staring at a lily flower and reaching out for the one closest to me. "I just…I don't know enough words that would make the pain that is inside of me go away or make any of this feel less real than it is."
My parents were staring at me. I was the only one that was speaking. My father had tried to utter one word but instead broke down crying and my mother fell back onto her seat the moment she tried to get up. Albus always leaned on me to do the hard things. In a way I was his keeper too. I had to take care of the younger ones but there was no one to take care of me. I had no older brother or older sister to latch onto when things got hard.
Because things got hard. Harder. They thought once the operation was done that would be it but still Lily wouldn't grow. She was shorter than other kids at thirteen. She looked like a ten year old physically but mentally she was so smart, so, so smart. She was still in pain.
There were tests after tests.
"I'm sorry. We were wrong."
"Wrong?"
"It wasn't…it's her liver…too…"
The muggle world amazed me. Magic it seemed had failed us but with the muggle world we thought we would finally find help, we would finally get our answers. We got our answers but it was just too late. Her liver didn't work well. The other operations had messed with her body. She couldn't go back to Hogwarts, got sick too easily, but she didn't give up fighting.
I think the hardest thing for us was the fact that we couldn't do anything. If we could have given her our liver we would have. I would have given her mine in a heartbeat. I would have given her my kidney, my stomach, my intestines and my heart if she asked me to, if she needed it.
They said with everything that was wrong with her body, with all the hormone replacements and the shots and the sickness and the failure of the organs that was inside of her…she would never grow and then one day whatever was growing inside of her would burst and would stop working.
That's the way I think about it anyway. Like my sister had swallowed a firework and it was just festering inside her body, waiting and waiting to go off and then finally one day…poof.
They said it would be a miracle if she reached twenty.
She died when she was twenty-three.
"I never wanted a sister," I say, and my family laughs, wiping the tears from their faces. "I never understood why I had to have one. When she was born I thought it was a curse. I wanted to get rid of her but now…now I wish I could spend more moments with her."
Before she died, my sister, in pain and barely able to move her head off of her pillow worried more about our family than herself. She didn't complain about her pain. She didn't cry woefully at the life that she had been dealt. Instead she held our hands as we cried by her side, as we begged her to just stay with us a little longer.
I have nothing else to say. The words that I wrote down, the happy memories, because there were many, cannot be shared because it hurts too much. There is a hole in my heart that can only be filled by her but she is gone.
We will bury her body and her bones will decay in the ground and all I will have are the memories of her lopsided smile, the way her short red hair always seemed to come loose from her hair tie, no matter how tight she pulled at it and how hard she tried to perfect it.
I will not remember her in pain.
My family says nothing. No one moves as I walk towards Albus and take my seat next to him, patting his back and pulling him closely towards my body. He shudders and shakes against my chest; our hearts beat loudly in pain.
My parents, through all the fighting, have still lean on each other.
I always took care of my sister. Albus always leaned on me during the hard times. I will take care of him forever. He will never have to worry about how I feel or how I will handle things.
My sister might be gone but I know she looks over me.
She will comfort me in my dreams when I sleep. She will be the one to guide me get through the hard times, like a guardian. I have no older brother or older sister to latch onto but I had a younger one.
She was perfect.
She was beautiful.
And she was made to show me that I didn't need an older brother or sister to help protect me. She was all I needed.
And I will love her forever.
Author's Note: So I never posted this story. I wrote it during the summer of 2013. It's kind of scattered and all over the place and I won't change it. I wrote this story for myself because I had just learned my friend had passed away. This was essentially her story. We watched her for years go through all of these surgeries and have to deal with all of this pain and unfortunately the doctors were just too late. This story was also written for a challenge but I could never post it because it was very difficult to accept. It was very difficult to re-read and write. Now that I'm older and have lost other significant people in my life I feel like I can post this. In a way it's comforting to read this now. Thanks for reading.
