Everything belongs to JK Rowling and the Antlers.
"In the middle of the night
I was sleeping sitting up
When the doctor came to tell me "enough is enough"
Brought me out into the hall (I could have sworn it was haunted)
He told me something that I didn't know that I wanted to hear
That there was nothing that I could do to save you
The choirs gonna sing and this thing is gonna kill you."
- Two by The Antlers
Bill Weasley snored in his uncomfortable seat and readjusted himself. It was his night for her – his night to be her guard. Not that she needed a guard. She'd never needed protection. She'd always been able to care for herself, always been so independent. She hadn't needed her parents since she was six.
The wind howled in the darkness outside the building. The white walls enclosed them, suffocating them. A single bed sat in the middle, a small girl as pale as the sheets she slept on. Her hair whipped her face as she tossed and turned.
A gentle shake woke Bill up. He started, until he realized who had woken him. A healer in a while cloak nodded to him and led him outside, into the bright light that he had to squint through. The door shut behind him.
"I'm worried about 'er," Fleur murmured to her husband. "You do not think that she 'as lost weight?"
Bill watched the girl on the beach. She was small and skinny, but she always had been. Her blonde hair fell behind her like a sheet as she chased a tall, blue-haired boy across the sand. She was laughing and shouting things at him as he ran from her.
"No," Bill said, shaking his head and turning back to his wife. "She looks fine."
"Mr Weasley," Healer Tantler said, "Your daughter… she's not showing the expected signs of progress."
Bill felt as though he was falling off a very tall mountain. "What are you talking about? She looks fine."
"Our potions," he said, "they're not… working… like they should. The consumer is supposed to gain weight progressively as long as they take it, if complimented with food. Nutrients."
"What are you talking about, I've been making sure she takes it," Bill said coolly.
"Yes, sir, and you've been doing it very well. But Miss Weasley seems to be losing all the weight she gains overnight. We don't believe she's been taking the necessary nutrients."
"Are you hungry, Vic?" asked Bill. He handed her a plate of pancakes as she came into the kitchen. "Mum just made these."
"I can't, Dad, I'm meeting Teddy," she said, rolling her eyes. She grabbed her cardigan. "Don't worry, Andromeda makes these really great waffles."
Fleur exchanged a worried look with Bill. The older man sighed and sat down.
"Sit down, Vic," he said. She frowned, but didn't make move to sit down. He repeated.
"I can't, Dad. I have to meet Teddy," she said again.
"Teddy can wait."
"Why can't you wait?"
"Because we need to talk. Sit down."
"Dad, I really can't, I have to go-"
"Teddy can wait five minutes, Victoire!" He reached out and grabbed her wrist.
"Stop!" she cried, trying to yank herself free. "I – CAN'T!" And with can't, her eyes flashed dangerously and she yanked, managing to get herself free. She barrelled towards the door and left without another word, leaving Bill sitting by himself at the kitchen table, his head in his hands.
"So you're saying I have to make her eat."
"Not necessarily. Her body is… rejecting both the potion and the food. There's no known cure. We've seen cases like this before…"
"And what's happened to them?"
"They didn't make it," Healer Tantler said quietly. He bowed his head.
"So… what can we do?" But he was sure he didn't want to hear the answer. Because when he did, the world crashed at his feet. When he did, the glass around him shattered. The lightbulbs broke.
"There's nothing we can do," he said quietly. "This is going to kill her. I'm sorry."
"Vic?" One knock. "Vic, sweetheart?" Two knocks. "Victoire, let me in." Three knocks. "I'm coming in." Bill pulled out his wand and pointed it at the lock on the bedroom door. "Alohamora," he muttered. The lock clicked and he pushed open the door.
She was siting on her bed, her legs tucked into her chest. Her hair hid her face, and she was reading a book. Bill had a feeling she hadn't read a word of it. He silently went over and sat beside her. Carefully, he patted her leg. She raised her eyes to look at him. Her eyes were bloodshot, and her skin was pale. "Yes, Dad?"
"I wanted to talk to you." She looked back down at her book.
"Then talk."
"I've noticed… you've been looking thin."
"I'm the same as ever," she insisted.
"It looks a little… unhealthy."
"I'm fine."
"Well, I don't think so."
"If that's all you're hear to say," she said sharply, "then you can leave. I'm fine."
Bill hesitated. "Teddy agrees."
"So you've all been talking about me, have you?"
"No, we've been worried about you."
She pulled her legs up closer to her chest, curling in on herself. "I'm fine," she said tersely.
"Are you sure there's nothing bothering you?"
"Nothing, Dad. I'm fine. Can you shut the door, please?"
Bill sat where he was, defeated, and slowly got up and left the room. Teddy was waiting behind the door, looking worried. "Any luck?" he asked hopefully. Bill shook his head.
"I'm sorry, Teddy."
Bill lowered himself into a chair. "I should owl my wife," he tried to say, but his throat felt blocked. He could hardly breathe. Suddenly, as they always did when she awoke, the room behind him was alive with noise. Victoire was screaming – loud, hopeless screams, punctured only by sobs. His heart broke as he listened. But he didn't move.
He sat in his seat. Healer Tantler didn't move either. They both sat, waiting for the hurricane to pass. With every scream, Bill felt tears prickle his eyes. That was his baby girl. That was his baby girl, screaming for him. That was his baby girl, writhing in pain she'd caused herself. That was his baby girl who he couldn't save.
The screams stifled to sobs.
"Happy Easter!" Molly Weasley cried at her family as she wrapped them in hugs in turn. "Come in, come in!" She bustled around the small family of five, leading them into the Burrow as though they didn't know where to go. "Victoire, you're looking awfully peaky. Come on, we'll fatten you up."
As the family was led to the sitting room, they saw that they were not the first to arrive. Already sitting there were the Potters, as well as Ron and his family, and Arthur, obviously. They were laughing loudly, while the younger children seemed to be playing wizard's chess. Lily and Hugo looked bored. They greeted the other family enthusiastically as Vic, Dom, and Louis all ran to join those playing on the floor. As Vic dropped to the floor excitedly, Bill saw Harry's eyes were following her as well.
"How are you, Harry?" asked Bill as he sat down, forcing Harry to tear his eyes away from Victoire.
"Doing fine, and yourself?"
At that moment there was an outcry from the floor, and suddenly the children stood up and started to run outside, nearly knocking over George, Angelina, Fred, and Roxanne as they went. After a quick kiss from their grandmother, Fred and Roxanne ran to join the other children, who were playing some mild form of Quidditch without brooms or hoops. As George and Angelina greeted the family, Harry took the opportunity to lean towards Bill.
"Hey," he said, "I couldn't help notice that – "
"Vic?" Bill predicted. Harry nodded. "We're dealing with it." Harry nodded again.
"Is she – "
"We're dealing with it," Bill interrupted. Harry pressed his lips together.
"Alright, well, I'm here if you need me."
"Thanks."
The conversation ended as Angelina pulled them each into a warm hug, and Fleur said, "Angelina, you 'ave to tell me where you bought your dress."
"So then he looks at me, and he says: 'Nothing like a good butterbeer to soothe things over!'" Percy said, ending his anecdote in a fit of laughter. The group echoed him.
"What a prick," George muttered. "We've got someone like that, comes in to the shop every single Tuesday, asking for – "
"DAD! DAD!" All heads turned as the back door flung open to reveal Dominique, tears streaming down her face as she sprinted to her father.
"Dom, what's wrong?" he asked instantly, wiping her tears as she stopped in front of him. It took her a moment to stop crying long enough to tell him, but even as she spoke, she sobbed.
"It's Victoire, we didn't do anything, I swear, we were just running – "
A dark cloud passed over Bill's face. Fleur rubbed Dom's arm as Bill dug his fingers into her shoulder unconsciously. Everybody hung on her every word.
"She just fell, and she won't get up, I think she fainted but she – "
She didn't have to say any more. Bill jumped up, followed instantly by Harry. He sprinted out the back door, letting Dom lead him, the adults in tow.
It took them a fair few minutes to get to the crowd of children surrounding something on the floor. They parted, letting Bill and Fleur through, and Bill felt his wife gasp and fall to the ground.
Lying there was Victoire, still looking like an angel. Her hair was sprawled out behind her, slightly darkened by the dirt she was lying on. She was lying on her back, and as Bill looked down, he didn't see the strong, beautiful girl who he had refused to believe had a flaw. He didn't see the fifteen year old princess he'd seen a moment ago. He didn't see just slightly skinny version of Vic. Instead, the Victoire on the floor was sickly pale and delicate. Her skin was sunken, almost transparent, matching her white dress. Her hair was brittle. She looked like a breeze could pick her up. Like if you touched her, she'd break. She was so fragile. As he looked at her, he felt the weight of everything bear down on him. Every time he had failed as a parent. Every time he had not protected her when he should have, not protecting her from herself. Every time he let her fall, every time had failed her, every time he had not seen what was right in front of his eyes. And as he stared at his broken little girl, he realised he'd failed her.
Bill pulled himself up, ran a hand over his face, and thanked the healer. Then he reappeared in the doorway.
"Baby," he said quietly as she looked up at him, still sobbing quietly. Tears had dried on her cheeks, covered by the paths of fresh ones. Bill grabbed the vial filled with the potion she needed to take off her bedside table. As she saw him pick it up, she started to scream. He tried to grab her arms as they flanked around madly. She kicked the air, recoiling as far away from him as possible.
"NO!" she shrieked through tears. "NO!" With every scream, Bill felt a physical wound puncture his skin.
"You need to, baby, I'm sorry," he said as he held down her hands and forced the potion down her throat. As she reluctantly swallowed it, she sobbed harder, staring at him, looking back at him with his own blue eyes. "I'm sorry."
"I hate you," she sobbed. "I hate you."
And she sat there, a tiny thing, curled in herself, sobbing and repeating that phrase. And Bill felt tears leak down his eyes and his face crumble. He moved to pull his arms around her, and he held his daughter as she sobbed into him, and he sobbed into her, repeating their last statements aloud, the last stanza.
I hate you. I hate you.
I'm sorry. I'm sorry.