Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter
You had been her caretaker for the past year.
For the past year, you were forced to watch as she slowly lost herself. It was okay, at first. Sure, her memory was going and sometimes, she wasn't herself. Most of the time, she was fine. She was able to laugh everything off and pretend like the lapse in memory had never happened, or that she hadn't just called you by the wrong name. She could still walk and talk; she could take care of herself. Using the bathroom and bathing herself was never a problem.
She refused to see a Healer. She was convinced that nothing was wrong, and that her memory problems were due to old age. Nothing else. But she started forgetting more. She often called you by the wrong name. Conversations with her made little sense. Walking became a huge ordeal, and she refused to use a wheelchair or a walker. She never laughed anything off; instead she got very angry and irritable. She was angry that she wasn't able to remember. Still, she muddled through and convinced herself that it was due to old age and, despite your constant nagging, refused to see a Healer.
But then she fell down the stairs, and both of your lives would change forever.
You knew that something was wrong; you'd known for a long time. The Healers at St. Mungo's confirmed everything. You could only recall bits and pieces of the conversation. The worst conversation of your life.
"Disease called dementia..."
"...Cognitive imparements and loss of memory..."
"...Just get worse..."
"Nothing we can do..."
"She should have seen us sooner..."
"...Six months to live..."
Six months to live. You hadn't belived the Healers at first. How could your happy, caring, kind, gentle, beautiful grandmother only have six months to live? How could the woman who had raised you only have six months to live?
Immediately, the roles had changed. You moved out of your flat and moved back in to take care of your had to watch her in order to make sure that she wouldn't wander off. When she became bedridden, you fed her, washed her, changed her. She relied on you.
Watching her lose her independence was difficult. She had always been the type to do everything alone, and she loved to garden. But she just wasn't able to do anything anymore. She resented being stuck in bed while everyone else was so active.
It made her angry and irritable. She would often take everything out on you, and keeping your own temper in check was difficult. You often had to remind yourself that it wasn't her fault; that this was part of dementia.
The dementia also made her less lucid. Conversations with her began to make no sense. She would talk about trips to America that she had never been on; she would talk about things that happened years ago. She would talk about her daughter - your mother- as though she were in the room. She spoke about your father, as well. Not only would she speak about him, but she would call you by his name, forgetting that both he and your mother died twenty-two years ago in the Battle of Hogwarts.
She needed constant care now, and Healers were at the house around the clock. Everything was going downhill as she continued to get sicker.
The Healers said that she only had about a month left.
"Remus? Remus, where's Nymphadora? It's too dangerous to be out for long nowadays. Especially since she's just had the baby."
Her voice jolts you out of your silent reverie, and your heart breaks even further. Long ago had you realized that she couldn't always remember who you were, but it seemed as though she had finally forgotten you all together."She needs to be here to take care of Teddy."
But I'm Teddy. C'mon, Nan...You're in there somewhere. I know you are. "Nymphadora will be back soon, Andromeda. I'm taking care of Teddy. Don't you worry."
She looks over at you, her face etched in worry. "But, Remus..." Her face scrunches up in pain.
Tears threaten to spill over your eyes. "Do you need more pain medicine?"
She simply nods. She's been needing her medicine more lately.
You know that this isn't good, but you hide your fear.
You have to be strong in order to take care of your grandmother.
She stopped speaking three days ago.
All she can do is stare. Her big brown eyes no longer scan the room. Instead, they stare at one spot on the ceiling, barely blinking.
You were on the verge of a meltdown. You had no one to talk to about this. None of your friends had ever been through anything like this, and they wouldn't understand. And you burdened the Potters enough, so you refused to ask them for help.
That didn't last long, though.
Suddenly, your fireplace lit up and a voice called, "Teddy?"
Relief flooded through you. Forget seeing your grandmother to the end by yourself. Forget not letting anyone know how bad Nan had gotten in the last three weeks alone. You wanted nothing more than to be the child, the young adult who was losing his grandmother. You didn't want to be the caretaker anymore. You wanted someone else, someone stronger than you to take over.
Your godfather was that person.
The Potters and the Weasleys always helped you, but you refused to let them come over the past month. You didn't want them seeing that you had let her get so bad, even though you logically knew that it was never your fault. The disease was destroying her entire mind, and there was nothing you could do. You knew that Nan didn't have much longer, and you needed someone to take care of you.
"Teddy?" Harry's voice came through again. "I know you're there."
You stand from the chair near Nan's bed and move to the fireplace. Harry's concerened face stares up at you. "Harry..."
You were surprised to hear your voice crack. A lump forms in your throat as you ask, "Can you come through?"
His head disappears, and a second later you hear a small pop. You turn your head and see Harry standing next to your grandmother.
"How is she, Teddy? And how are you?"
You put your head in your hands and sigh. Your fingers feel wet, and you realize that you must be crying. Two arms wrap around you and pull you into an embrace. You cling to Harry, and next thing you know, you're crying into his shirt.
"S-s-she's dying...The Healers say t-that she doesn't have much longer. A week at the most. I'm so tired, Harry. I can't sleep because I'm so scared she'll die while I'm sleeping. I can't eat because I'm just so anxious about everything. Taking care of her is so hard, even though I have so much help...None of you ever let me do it alone, but I feel a-a-alone...N-no o-o-one gets it...I can't just sit and watch her die anymore."
You were sobbing by this point. You were so tired. You needed to be the child, the one who was losing your grandmother. You needed to be comforted by someone instead of being the one doing the comforting.
Harry's hands rub slow circles up and down your back. "Teddy, you've been so strong. You've taken such good care of your Nan, and I know somewhere, she knows that too. She loves you so much, and she would hate to see you this way. You're not alone in this, Teddy. I'm here, Ginny's here; all the Weasley's are here. We've always been here, and we always will be."
"I d-d-d-don't want her to die..."
"I know. I'll tell you something that my godfather told me when I was about thirteen. The ones who love us never truly leave us, Teddy. They're always in our hearts."
You nod. You stand there for a few more minutes before you hear another small pop.
"Oh! I'm sorry..."
You pull away from your godfather and wipe your eyes, embarrassed that Healer O'Donnell had seen you crying.
"It's okay, Healer O'Donnell. How's my Nan?"
She looks at you and sighs.
"You two should probably sit."
You glance at Harry, anxiety coursing through your veins. He leads you towards the couch and grasps your shoulder.
Healer O'Donnell glances at you. Her eyes are kind, sad and sympathetic.
"Teddy, I'm going to be honest. Your grandmother got sicker much more quickly than we anticipated, and the only thing we can really do now is keep her comfortable." She sighs. "I hate saying this, but I think she only has a few days left."
An iron fist clenches your heart as Harry puts his arm around you to pull you closer. You knew it was coming, but hearing the actual words left you breathless.
How could your grandmother only have a few days left? She still had so much to do; so much to see. She couldn't die now! She was supposed to be outside in her garden, or coming over for lunch at your flat. She should be here when you finally decide to truly start your life with Victorie. Instead she was going to die, barely aware of who or where she was.
You bite your lip and take a deep breath through your nose. "Just...Just make her as comfortable as you can. Please."
A week to the day later, you woke up with a horrible feeling.
Somehow, you knew it would be today. If someone had asked you to explain, you wouldn't be able to. You just knew.
You take your seat next to your grandmother and take her hand. Her skin feels cooler than it did last night, and her fingernails are turning gray. She sleeps on as you begin to speak.
"Nan...What is there even to say? How could I possibly think of something to talk about while you're laying here, dying in front of me?" You take a shaky breath. "I love you so much, Nan. And I want to thank you. I know I wasn't the easiest kid to raise, but you loved me anyway. You made me into who I am today. I am who I am because of you. You were always so kind, so gentle...You rarely shouted, and you always did stuff with me. You hung out with me and played with me and gave me such good advice..We all love you, Nan. But I know that you're in pain and that you're tired." You wipe your eyes. "It's okay to go, Nan. You can let go now. Go be with Mum and Grandpa. Say hi to them and Dad for me, will you? Tell them I love them, and I wish you were all here. I'll miss you so much...I love you, Nan."
You lean over and kiss Nan's forehead one last time. After one final, shallow breath, you knew she was gone.