"Picquery!"

Seraphina startled as the booming voice of Kevin Wilkinson resonated in her ear.

He snapped his fingers in front of her eyes. "Where is your focus, girl? I could have killed you if I wanted to!"

She bowed her head. "I'm sorry sir. It won't happen again."

"Damn right it won't! You're no use to us like this."

Tears brimmed her eyes, but she willed them away angrily. She would not cry. Not at MACUSA. Not in front of her superior. And most definitely not on her first day. Later, when she was home, she could weep. But not here. Here, she needed to be strong.

"The MACUSA Auror programme is among the most prestigious Auror programmes in the world. We only take the best of the best. Seventy percent drops out in their first year because they can't handle the pressure. Are you going to one of them, Picquery?"

"No sir, I want to be an Auror more than anything."

"Then start acting like it! Never in my ten years as trainer did I have to send anyone home in the first week. Don't make me break that record, Picquery."

"I'm sorry sir," she repeated. Her cheeks burned with shame.

Great, she just put herself in the picture. She was convinced that Wilkinson would monitor her every move more closely now, and she knew with almost certainty that he would test her just a litter harsher than the others, to see if she really had it in her.

He huffed and shot her one more warning look, but dropped the subject.

"Right, let's put your O's in Transfiguration to the test. MacDuff, Grimsditch, I expect great things from you. Are you ready to make your ancestors proud?"

Seraphina let out a slow breath when Wilkinson's attention turned to other trainees.

Just one more hour and then she was free. She just had to make it through one more hour. She could manage that.

She rushed home at the end of the day. Would there be any news? She hoped and dreaded it at the same time. But there were no letters. And there were no signs of a missed Floo call. Her breathing became heavy and her heart raced. It was probably bad news.

Her hand already hovered over the bowl of Floo powder, but then she withdrew it and tried to steady her breathing. Dad wouldn't be home. If he had news, he would have found some way to contact her already. That needed to mean they were still fighting. It just had to. For a moment, she contemplated contacting Moses, but he would have no more news than she had, and she might miss the Floo call from her Dad. Better wait until Dad contacted her.

The only reasonable thing to do was to keep her mind busy with other things, but she wasn't feeling reasonable at all at the moment. She tried cooking something, even though her heart wasn't in it and the result was barely edible. She ate it anyway.

You'll make it, Mom. You have to make it.

She repeated this over and over in her mind like a mantra, as if saying it often enough would somehow influence the situation.

She gazed at the clock and wrinkled her forehead. How long had it been? She made a mental calculation. Twenty-one hours. The first twenty-four hours will be crucial. Was it really only last night that Dad had relayed the Healer's words to her? Was it really only yesterday that some drunk No-Maj had shot her Mom? Because she was black and happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time? It seemed like ages ago.

She had wanted to Floo to Savannah immediately, but Dad had told her she couldn't do anything at the moment, it was all in the Healers' hands. All they could do was wait. And she had her first day of Auror training to attend at MACUSA.

She'd screamed at him that MACUSA could go to hell for all she cared if that would provide a way to guarantee her Mom would make it, but Dad wouldn't hear from it.

"You'll hear from me when there is news," he had reassured her. "I'll contact Mary to Floo you out of MACUSA if need be."

"But I want to stay with Mom, Dad. She is infinitely more important than any job in the world could ever be. And I don't want you to be alone at the hospital either."

"Grandma is there now. I know you want to come, Phina, but I also know that Mom wouldn't want you to throw away everything you worked so hard to achieve just to sit waiting idly on a hospital chair all day. And whether you're in Savannah or in New York, this is a fight Mom has to fight on her own. Just she and the Healers. There is nothing either of us can do but wait."

Rationally thinking, she knew he was right, but her heart didn't agree with rationality. Every part of her told her to get to Savannah sooner rather than later, but in the end, she had relented. All they could do was wait.

"You have to make it, Mom," Seraphina repeated once more, aloud this time. The words sounded awkwardly hollow in her still empty apartment.

What time was it? A quarter past eight? Had really only ten minutes passed since last she checked the time?

Breathe. Miracles could still happen. They happened every day, right? And Dad had said the hospital had their best Healers working Mom's case.

She spun around when her fireplace erupted in an eerie lime green. Floo call. Upon seeing her Dad's worn face she immediately knew that he didn't bring good news.

"Mom, is she…" she couldn't bring herself to say the word.

He shook his head. "Not yet. But the Healers told me there's not much more they can do. You need to come with me, right now."

What he didn't say, couldn't say, was implied in the urgency in his voice. This could very well be her last chance to see Mom alive.

Seraphina stepped into the fireplace beside him, shaking into the very core of her being. Her mom was going to die…

They called at Moses' next. A flash, the well-known sensation of nausea that she always got when travelling by Floo powder, and then she stared into the anxious faces of her brother, sister and sister-in-law.

Moses' wife Rowena, heavily pregnant with their first child, embraced her husband with a tear-stained face before he stepped into the fireplace, while Amara rushed into Seraphina's arms and buried her head on her shoulder. She seems so small now.

They hold each other tight as her Dad's quavering voice called out "Hippocrate Hospital, Savannah".

Another flash of lime green and they arrived in a sterile white hallway.

Amara gripped Seraphina's hand for comfort and consolation.

"This way."

Dad pointed in the direction of a big staircase and they followed, Moses right behind him and Amara and Seraphina came next. With every step the family seemed to speed up, until at last they were all but running up the flight of stairs.

Let it not be too late. Oh Merlin, let us not be too late.

It felt like it took forever to reach the room their Mom was in, but in reality it could barely have been more than ten minutes.

The grey-haired woman at the side of the bed rose immediately when she heard the bustle. The teacup on the bedside stand stood untouched, its contents gone cold.

"Grandma!" exclaimed Amara.

"Thank Merlin you're all here," Grandma sighed. "Not one moment too soon."

As Moses and Amara rushed to the bedside, Seraphina caught Grandma exchanging a look with Dad and realised with a pang what it meant. A band tightened around her chest. They would not get to talk to Mom. This was it. She was so far gone that they would only get to see her body before she would pass away. Suddenly she was reluctant about approaching the bed. Did she really want the last image of her Mom to be this? If Mom never even got to know they were there, shouldn't she preserve the image of Mom as she was in her mind, happy and smiling? She didn't know if she could handle it.

A Mediwitch entered the room at that moment and saw her hesitation.

"Go," she urged her. "You'll regret it for the rest of your life if you don't. She can't reply anymore, that's true, but she can still hear you. Say your goodbyes while you still can."

Cautiously, Seraphina approached the bed. Mom looked so pale, so fragile amidst the white sheets. She sat down and took her mother's hand in her own.

"Mom, I love you," she burst out sobbing, "I'll miss you so much. Stay with us, Mom."

Beside her, Moses and Amara were uttering similar phrases. They too were crying.

She didn't know how long they had sat there when Grandma said "It is time."

Obviously, something had been discussed in the long hours Dad and Grandma had spent at the hospital, for Dad nodded sadly, tears in his eyes. He kissed Mom on the lips. "Fare well, my love."

Grandma started singing softly, a low rhythmic chant in a language that reminded Seraphina of the village in Uganda where Uncle Obasi lived. She had never learned more than a few words, yet Grandma's song spoke to her of peace of quiet. The muscles in Mom's hand started to release their every tension.

At that moment, Seraphina felt something change in the atmosphere. She looked around her and saw that Amara did the same. They didn't see anything.

Grandma placed her hand on Mom's forehead and the song changed. To Seraphina it sounded almost like a summoning. Intrigued, she strained to make sense of the unfamiliar phrases.

Mothers of the house Njubi, please welcome in your midst Oksana, for she is your daughter.

Fathers of the house Njubi, please welcome in your midst Oksana, for she is of your blood.

Mothers of the Homeland, please welcome in your midst Oksana, so she can watch over your daughters.

Fathers of the Homeland, please welcome in your midst Oksana, so she can watch over your sons.

Grandma stopped singing, as though she was waiting for a response. Something was happening, Seraphina could sense it. Was that a smile that appeared on her Mom's face? Yes, it was. Her features softened and a kind of calmness transcended into the room. "I love you, Mom," she whispered.

Grandma nodded. "It is alright, my dear daughter. You can go home now."

Mom sighed, it sounded almost content.

And Seraphina knew that her Mom was gone. She put her head on her arms and wept.


A/N: This story was written for the One Character Competition on HPFC, hosted by Always Padfoot. In this competition, you are to write several stories centered around the same character (mine is Seraphina Picquery). For this round, we had to write our character's first or last [something]. I chose Seraphina's first day of Auror training and the last day she saw her mother alive. Additional prompts I used: anxiety (as an emotion, not a word), teacup and lime green.