She was ten when she first collapsed in her Muggle primary school. She had been rushed to the nearest hospital while Harry and Ginny had been called, explaining what had happened. She and her friend, Emily, had been pretending to be gymnasts on a bench when Lily had just fallen off and not moved. Two hours after Harry and Ginny had arrived, they received the dreadful news- Lily had a small tumor, only the size of a pinkie toenail, on the lining of her small intestine. The doctors were worried that it would spread, so they decided to operate. It was a nerve-racking four days before they finally operated. Hermione had spent all her time pouring over medical books, looking for a spell or potion that would block the cancer from reoccurring. Lily had been wonderful the whole time, making the patients in the beds surrounding her crack smiles, and constantly asking the nurses what they were doing. When James and Albus arrived on Saturday from Hogwarts, they asked about it.
"I wanna be able to save people when I grow up, just like Daddy." She had admitted to them in a whisper. The night before the operation, however, she became pensive and withdrawn.
"Daddy?" she had asked finally.
"Yeah, Lily-love?" he had replied, instantly going to her side.
"Do you think I'll get a really cool scar?" she had asked him, her eyes shining innocently up at him as she fiddled with her hospital-issued gown.
Harry chuckled. "Yeah. Maybe you can ask them to make it look like a lightning bolt, then we can match."
"Do you think they'll do that?" Lily's eyes had widened. Harry had nodded and smoothed down her red hair- it was almost as messy as his and Albus'.
"And, you have a new bracelet to show off, too." Harry had fingered the ER bracelet before tucking the covers up under his daughter's chin. "Go to sleep now, Lily-love. You've got a big day tomorrow!"
Lily was now seventeen, about to go into her last year at Hogwarts. And the cancer, which had lain dormant for nearly seven years, was back- with a vengeance. And in the interceding seven years, Hermione had not been able to find a spell that could make it just go away, nor create one that worked as well as any Muggle medicine. It was just too uncommon for wizard-kind to get cancer that no one had bothered. And so, Lily found herself taking one weekend off per month to take her chemotherapy. Her mother or father was normally able to come to the castle, but Lily found, near the beginning, that she preferred to recover in her own bed. Sometimes she would miss her Monday morning classes, but, quite honestly, the teachers didn't mind. Even with all that pain that she was going through, she continued to smile and laugh with her friends, even as her glorious red hair fell out and she dropped too many pounds- even with the house-elves and her grandmother's cooking. It was if she knew she was running her last race and wanted to make it count.
Christmas came, and Lily was weaker than ever. She was completely bald- her own choice, as they could've magiced more on. When James and Albus came home on Christmas morning, they briefly said hello, then said they had to dash out to finish a Christmas gift very quickly. And quickly it was. They were back in only ten minutes. Ginny hadn't even stopped tsking by the time they came back.
"Lily!" James exclaimed. "You gotta open mine and Al's presents first!"
"At the same time." Albus added with a grin.
"Okay?" Lily asked, nibbling on a cookie. "Where are they?"
Albus and James grinned at her before taking off their winter caps.
"Oh!" Ginny gasped, her hands flying to her mouth. Harry and Lily started laughing.
"They look like eggs!" Lily giggled, her hands stretching out to her brothers for a hug, which they gladly gave her. The house was filled with laughter and wrapping paper that morning.
By May, Lily had been confined to a wheelchair.
"No problem!" Lily had declared. "Now I won't have to make random passer-by carry my books for me!"
Two weekends before her NEWT tests, Lily had gone home for her chemo, bringing her books with her.
"Don't stay up too late, dear." Ginny had kissed her daughter on her head before heading to her own bed and the comforting warmth of Harry's arms. Only three hours later, Lily crept into their room.
"Mum, Dad, I don't feel too good." She admitted. Less than a minute later, they were at the hospital that she had gone to almost eight years ago.
"Daddy?" she asked later that day. Harry started- it had been years since he was 'Daddy'.
"Yes, Lily-love?" He asked, feeling a sense of déjà-vu.
"Does it hurt too terribly to die?" she asked in a small voice, her gown slipping through her fingers. Tears sprang to Harry's eyes.
"Not at all." He replied, blinking furiously. "It's quicker and easier than falling asleep."
"Thanks Daddy." She gave his hand a small squeeze, and, with a small sigh, slipped away into dreamland.
