Written for March Event at Hogwarts: Tear My Heart Out
Submitted to Fanfiction Writing Month: March
Note: This piece may be submitted to further challenges and competitions retrospectively. Unfortunately, I don't have time to work through that now before the March Event Deadline.
Words: 7,036
AN: For readers not acquainted with British English, dummies = pacifiers. This story basically took me all month to write, so I hope you enjoy it!
Hope
Lily shut herself in the bathroom, knowing Lorcan was on the other side of the door, waiting. She could feel her heart thudding against her chest in nervousness, and she set the potion down on the counter so she could relax a little. She looked at herself in the mirror and saw the hope in her green eyes reflected back.
This wasn't the first time Lily had shut herself in the bathroom with that same potion. The couple had been trying for three months now, and each time they'd got their hopes up, they'd been unlucky. Lily knew that there was a chance this time would be no different, but it didn't matter what she told herself; the hope reared its head like a song she'd heard on the radio when she wasn't really paying attention, but found herself humming the tune of for the next few days.
Lorcan was hoping, too. She imagined him, white blonde hair, three-day stubble and all, sat on their bed, wringing his hands, tapping his foot. She didn't need to shut him out, of course. He could have been in there with her, holding her hand, but Lily preferred to be alone, just in case. The thought of him, and his constant support through all of this, brought a smile to her face. She picked up the potion and with a deep breath, removed the stopper.
As she downed the contents in one hefty gulp, she talked herself through the logistics in her head, focusing purely on the logical side of things. If she was pregnant, the chemicals in her body would react pleasantly with the potion, and she'd feel perfectly fine, as if she'd just taken a Pepper-Up potion. If she wasn't, there'd be an imbalance, and she'd spew the contents of her stomach into the toilet bowl like she had food poisoning. She'd experienced that three times now; the sickness, the heartbreak. She closed her eyes, and begged that everything would be okay.
That was when she began to feel it. The euphoria beginning to wash over her; the energy that spread through her muscles and sinew. She looked at herself in the mirror and saw the brightness of her eyes. She wasn't willing to be certain, not yet, but she knew the signs were looking good.
"Lily, is everything alright?" she heard Lorcan call through the closed door.
"Just a minute!" she called back, standing still in the middle of the room.
She stood and she waited for what felt like a lifetime, but throughout it all, she felt fine.
She felt perfectly fine.
She grinned to herself, unable to hold it in, and felt her eyes watering at the thought of it. A baby. She was really, truly, carrying a baby.
She reached for the lock on the bathroom door, sliding it across. She reached for the handle, and heard the groan of the bedsprings as Lorcan stood up. She opened the door, still smiling, and looked into the eyes of her lover, saw his impatience and concern for just a moment before he took in her expression.
"We're having a baby," she whispered as she stepped forward. Lorcan pulled her into his arms immediately, wrapping himself around her, and she felt his smile on her cheek.
"Merlin's beard," he whispered in shock before turning to kiss her on the cheek again and again. "I love you."
Lily smiled up at him as his hand seemed to move of its own accord to rest on her belly. "I love you, too," she told him.
"It's finally happening," he commented as he began to break out into a grin, his free hand coming up to cradle her cheek and wipe away her happy tears. She leant into his hand as she nodded.
"We need to call St Mungo's," Lily commented. "We need to get our appointments with a Healer and the Midwifery Witches booked in. Oh! We need to go shopping! Do you know how many things a baby needs? I've been doing some reading, and I've started a little list. Oh, Merlin, we need to tell people! Who do we tell first? Your parents or mine? And I need to let Emily know as soon as possible, too," she continued, making some sort of mental list. She paused for breath, and Lorcan leant in with a smile, sealing her lips with a kiss.
She looked up at him, a little surprised, but he just smiled kindly.
"Tomorrow," he told her.
Lily took in a deep breath and smiled back. "Yes. Okay. Tomorrow."
Ginny was bustling about in the kitchen, putting the kettle on the stove and taking out some biscuits she'd made. She placed these on the table and picked up her wand to summon some small plates. Harry was the first to take a biscuit, smiling appreciatively at his wife, but Lily wasn't long behind him, taking one for Lorcan as well. She'd seen him eyeing them up but knew he was too polite to dive right in like the rest of the family.
Lily's brothers were not around, although they usually were on Sunday afternoons. It was a bit of an unspoken agreement that Sunday afternoons were spent at their parents' place. It wasn't a bad thing that they couldn't make it today. In fact, Lily considered, it might even be a little bit of a blessing.
"Lily, how are you, anyway? It's been a while since I've seen you, and you didn't reply to my last letter. And Lorcan, how are things getting on at the office?" Ginny asked, her back to them as she placed the teabags in the mugs and took the milk out of the fridge, not leaving them time to reply. "Oh, have you spoken to James? He's recovering really well, you know, but he's in talks with the manager. Doesn't look like he'll be playing again. They're talking of offering him a position in the management structure, poor thing. He was beside himself the other day, but Clancy is really helping him; she's so supportive. It's such a lucky thing he's got her now," the witch mumbled, filling Lily in on all the latest family news. She did, of course, no all about her brother's injury at his last Quidditch match. Not only had it been all over the papers, but she'd been getting daily updates – if James himself didn't write or call, Albus or Clancy did.
"Oh, and have you heard your cousin's news? Rose has only gone and got herself a promotion! Wonderful news, isn't it?" Ginny asked as she turned around with the drinks levitated in front of her, smiling with rosy cheeks and kind eyes.
It sometimes struck Lily, like it did right now, how hard it was to pair the image of this witch, the wife who made cookies and gossiped about the family, always in touch, always caring, with the woman who'd played Quidditch herself for years before turning to journalism, rising to be the Head of Magical Games Reporting at The Daily Prophet itself. Honestly, Lily wasn't sure how she did it, but the woman was a marvel; a ball of energy never ceasing or slowing as it rolled on through life.
"Actually, I did hear; I took her out to lunch the other day to celebrate. Molly came with us. Have you tried the new menu at the Cauldron yet?" Lily asked, reciprocating her mother's expression.
"Not yet. I'm still trying to convince your father to take me," Ginny hinted with a wry look at her husband.
"I said we'll go when the whole business with Crawford dies down. Merlin knows I hardly get five minutes to sit down at the moment," Harry complained.
Lily laughed good-naturedly, knowing little squabbles like this were a very normal occurrence for her parents. In fact, she'd probably worry more if they didn't engage in a battle of wits at least once a day.
"Anyway, dear," Ginny continued, "What's new with you, dear? How're you finding work at the moment? Your dad was saying there was some trouble in the DRCMC at the moment." Ginny eyed her daughter with concern as she ran off the shorthand for the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures.
"Oh, yeah, a bit, but that's all the higher ups. Just office politics. One of the blokes in upper management has announced his retirement at the end of the year, and they announced the reshuffle on Monday, but there's a few not happy with the suggested line-up. Doesn't bother me, though."
"Oh, good," Ginny cooed, nursing her cup of tea. "Anything else new?"
Lily looked at Lorcan, suddenly nervous. Her stomach did a strange sort of flip at her mother's question. She knew why they'd come. She knew what they'd come to say, but she didn't expect the flurry of anxiety that took over her. She smiled at Lorcan, but he must have seen something in her eyes as he smiled back because he placed his hand, under the table, on her thigh, giving it a comforting, supportive squeeze. She drew in a deep breath and looked at her parents.
"Actually, there, er, is something," she began, biting her lip.
"Oh, what is it?" Harry asked, encouraging his daughter.
"I'm… Well, I'm pregnant. We're having a baby," Lily told them, her mouth widening to a grin before she'd finished speaking.
Harry and Ginny both looked up at her, mouths agape, and it took a moment for the shock to wear off and their excitement to shine through.
"Oh! Oh, Lily, that's wonderful!" Ginny began, standing as she grinned and moving around the table to embrace her daughter tightly.
"Congratulations," Harry told them, his voice much more reserved than his wife's squeal, but his face lit up with his true feelings.
"Lorcan, a dad! I can hardly imagine!" Ginny laughed. "Does Luna know yet?"
"Not yet," Lorcan replied, "We're having dinner with them tonight."
"You're the first people we've told," Lily admitted.
"You'll be wonderful parents; I just know it!" Ginny told her daughter, still grinning at the news.
"Thanks, mum."
"Although, I'm not sure I'm old enough to be a granddad," Harry complained through a laugh.
"Of course you are, dad. I'm surprised you've not announced your retirement yet," Lily teased back with a smirk.
"Watch it, you! There's years in me yet!"
If there was one thing Diagon Alley didn't sell much of, Lily thought, it was baby things. The shops sold toys for older kids in their millions, and you could buy any magical pet you wanted. There were places to buy books and stationery, dress robes and school uniforms, potions and cauldrons and wands and anything else you might want. But when it came to bottles and dummies, cots and mobiles, blankets and baby-grows, there were only two shops, at opposite ends of the alley, and their choices were somewhat limited, Lily admitted with a sigh.
Lorcan was beside her, carrying the bags as they made their way to the Leaky Cauldron for lunch. They already had a cot – that hadn't been difficult to find. The one her parents had used for her and her brothers had been a hand-me-down from Uncle George, and it had long since fallen into disrepair, but Lorcan's parents had bought a new one for Lorcan and Lysander, and Newt had taken it down from their attic for the couple a few weeks ago.
They'd had a few blankets, cloths and clothes given to them by relatives – things their own children had worn for what felt like a few days before they'd grown out of them – but Lily had wanted a few new items, too – things that were just their baby's and nobody else's. That, at least, they'd managed to find, and Lily could now say with satisfaction that she had enough clothes for her little one, all in shades that were decidedly not blue or pink.
One of the things Lily wanted was a Moses basket of sorts with handles, so that her sleeping baby could be moved from room to room depending on where Lily was. She'd seen them before and knew they were fairly common, but both of the shopkeepers in Diagon Alley gave her the strangest of looks when she tried to ask for one.
"We'll have to go to muggle London for the basket, I think," Lily commented to Lorcan as they walked. Both of them had resigned themselves to a relaxed sort of pace, not sure if they should be pleased or disappointed with today's trip.
"And the dummies. I can't believe wizards haven't snapped them up yet!" Lorcan complained.
"I know! What do they use?" Lily marvelled.
"Beats me. Your Aunt Hermione bought my mum some before me and Xander were even born," Lorcan told her.
"We need a mobile, too. I was thinking of getting a muggle one, and getting Uncle Ron to have a tinker. They supposedly run off batteries, but I'm sure he can make it work with a simple charm," Lily shrugged.
"Even if he can't, I'm sure we can work those battery things. Aunt 'Mione will know," Lorcan added.
Lily looked down at her swollen belly and rubbed it lovingly with a sigh. Lorcan shifted the bags over to one hand so he could place an arm around her.
"Don't worry," he told her. "We'll be ready."
"We've only got two months! The time's just passed so quickly. I've only read one of those books, you know!" Lilly fretted.
"Lily," Lorcan began. "We'll be ready. We've got most of the things we need, and it doesn't matter how many books you do or don't read – people managed for centuries without any books at all."
Lily smiled at his attempt at placating her, but her panic and anxiety were no lessened. She knew they were near to being as prepared as they could be, but still her brain worked overtime. It had been this way for weeks, and Lily couldn't help but think it would be the same until her waters broke.
"I know. Rationally, I know. But I've got baby brain, and I'm not very good at being rational right now," she admitted, looking down to the floor instead of at her partner.
"You never were good at it, Gryffindor," Lorcan replied with a playful smirk. Lily pretended to hit him for his mischief, but smiled all the while. "We'll be okay," he added, his voice quieter but more confident.
"Okay."
The delivery room was quite large for a delivery room, but with Lily, Lorcan, a midwifery witch, a Healer and a trainee Healer Lily had agreed to let stay, the room barely seemed big enough for them all. It struck Lily that this was a very strange thing for her to notice right now, but she'd been staring at the same ceiling for fourteen hours and was definitely suffering from a lack of mental stimulation.
If there was anything to be said for magic, Lily considered, it was a miracle for childbirth. Lily had read about muggle births, and she'd been absolutely horrified. She could hardly imagine a pain so intense, or an experience quite so uncomfortable. Of course, she told herself, she'd still have done it. She'd still be here. But, by Merlin, was she glad she was a witch.
Healers didn't like to interrupt proceedings too much, of course. They wouldn't speed up or slow down proceedings unless it seemed absolutely necessary, and they'd keep an eye on what was occurring at any moment, but they didn't interfere any more than muggle doctors did. They'd tried it in the past, of course. They'd tried transfiguration, portkeys, potions and spells, but after a century or two of meddling, they soon learned it was better for all involved if they let things be.
A midwifery witch had her wand tip resting on Lily's stomach, checking the baby's vitals. Everything was going fine, of that they assured Lily. She turned to her right to look at Lorcan with a sigh. He squeezed the hand he was holding a little tighter.
"I just want it out," she told him, feeling a little pathetic. She knew she had no control over the situation, but she wished she did.
He looked at her then, narrowing his eyes a little as he smiled, with a heady mix of admiration and affection, and Lily felt beautiful. "It'll be worth it," he whispered.
"I hope so," she grumbled. "I'm hungry."
Lorcan just smiled good-naturedly. She was exhausted; she was fed up; and she was impatient. He couldn't blame her.
"I brought you something," Lorcan commented, reaching into his pocket, as if he'd just remembered. He'd rushed here from work yesterday now, so it was entirely possible something had slipped his mind. He pulled out a red plastic wrapper, and Lily recognised it immediately as her favourite muggle chocolate bar, a KitKat. She leant forward immediately, not knowing until that moment just how much she wanted one, and just how perfect those two fingers of chocolate-coated wafers would be. "I've got a deal for you. One finger now, and one when you're done," he said, a playful smirk lighting up his blue eyes.
Lily narrowed her eyes, and as she felt the next contraction begin to build, she nodded, "alright," and set about her task with renewed vigour.
It was that contraction that did it. She felt things grow tight, almost too tight, and that was when the Healer announced, "you're crowning."
Lily fell back on the pillows with a sigh. This was it. This was the final push coming, and she knew, she just knew she had it in her. Lorcan fed her the KitKat finger while she rested, waiting for the next contraction to build.
She found her mind wandering to inexplicable things, things she'd never be able to describe if asked. She wondered if it would be a boy or a girl, and what her baby's first word would be. She wondered where they'd be when the child first smiled, first laughed, first whispered, "I love you, mummy." She thought of all the books they'd bought, and wondered which one the toddler would decide was their favourite. She wanted to know what it really felt like to see your own child receive their Hogwarts letter, and who their favourite teacher would be. She felt her heart tug at the thought of their first heartbreak, and felt impatient to know what music they'd choose to help ease the pain. She looked at Lorcan with a sad little smile, felt the tightening of her muscles begin, and knew she simply couldn't wait to experience all of it.
It was the midwifery witch, with a plump figure and curly hair, who announced it with glee. "It's a girl," she told them, her own excitement second only to that of the new parents. The baby was placed on Lily's stomach, still blue, still attached to the tube that had been its life source for the last nine months. Lorcan drew his wand to sever the umbilical cord, and the new parents were allowed a moment, only a moment, to admire and cuddle, before she was taken to be washed and wrapped. It was during this moment that Lily knew, she just knew.
Something was wrong.
It took her until the midwifery witch was taking the baby from her, snatching her from Lily's grasp, that she understood where her worry had come from. She wasn't crying.
All babies cried, didn't they? Once the umbilical cord was cut, once they'd taken their first breath, once they'd opened their eyes. They took in the world, its loudness, its brightness, and opened their lungs to let out an unholy wail.
She didn't.
The panic began to rise; Lily didn't understand what was going on. She'd never been to a birth before; she didn't know what was supposed to happen, but the Healer hadn't left, and he was standing beside the midwifery witch. They were talking in low tones, and something was agreed. Lorcan sought out her hand out of instinct, closing his fingers around hers, tense and anxious.
"What's wrong?" Lily managed to ask, desperate to know. The Healer turned to her, concern written all over his face as he considered the couple.
"We don't know. There's something wrong. We need to take her to her own ward. She needs life support now. I'm sorry," he managed to fumble out, urgent. Lily thought he was pleading with them not to make a fuss.
"Someone will let you know as soon as we know anything. She needs milk from you as soon as possible, so hopefully you'll be reunited in a few minutes," the midwifery nurse added, sounding much sincerer, and while Lily and Lorcan heard every word, they weren't looking at her as the Healer had already begun carrying her out of the room, away, somewhere that might as well have been Timbuctoo.
The midwifery witch left them alone soon after this, and it was only after they'd been left alone that Lily realised her face was wet. At first, she thought it was the sweat from the exhaustion, but then she turned to Lorcan and narrowed her eyes in confusion. He was crying, sobbing, looking at her as though his world had been torn apart, and that was when Lily realised she was crying, too.
She squeezed Lorcan's hand and he squeezed back, bringing up his other hand to bury his face in it. This was supposed to be the happiest moment of their lives so far, and it was nothing short of a disaster.
Lily didn't get to nurse her baby that day. The midwifery nurse came to take Lily's milk, putting it in a little bottle for later. That bottle was placed in a cabinet in the room which had a Cooling Charm placed on it.
"My baby needs to eat," Lily complained.
The witch agreed. "The problem is she won't eat. The Healer will be through to explain soon. Rest assured we'll get this to her as soon as possible."
It had already been an hour, an hour that felt like a lifetime, and the couple had been told nothing. It was another hour before the Healer shuffled in.
It wasn't the same one who'd delivered the baby. That one smiled a lot and didn't say much. This one walked with an air of self-importance and a grey comb over. Every time he looked at them, his eyes darted away again, and even Lily saw the anxiety under his demeanour, even in her current state.
"I'm here to talk about your baby," he told them, and Lily wanted to roll her eyes, or hit him. What else would he want to talk to them about? He paused, as if struggling to find the words to explain things on a human level rather than a medical one. "There's a problem, you see, and it's not one we can fix straight away with a spell or a potion."
Just as Lily's frustration grew to an almost unbearable level, Lorcan drew in a breath. "Can you please just tell us what's wrong?" he asked, prompting the old wizard to speak quickly.
"Right," he nodded. "Well, your daughter's organs haven't formed properly. They're incomplete. Not all of them – namely her oesophagus, heart and lungs. We've tried to fix them, but they aren't responding to our usual methods. It seems there's an unknown magical origin to the problem. If it was simple muggle issues, they'd be fixed without a problem, but it seems they don't want to be fixed," he explained. Lily didn't understand. All of her life, there'd been a magical solution to all of her problems. How could there be anything they couldn't do?
"Well, what do you think it is?" she asked.
"We don't know. It could be any one of a number of things. A genetic problem – something magical that's been passed on to one of you that hasn't shown itself until now. It could be a curse, or contact with an unknown dark item during the pregnancy. We've just never seen this before. We've opened conversations with Healers in the US who've seen this before, just once, to see what they did, and we're talking with muggle surgeons – my muggle equivalent, about the methods they use to fix this kind of thing, as we may be forced to resort to them," he told them. He was talking without emotion, about medical matters, and he was more in his element. He was looking them in the eye, though he still seemed tense, as if he expected them to crumble into a puddle of emotion at any moment.
"Is she going to be okay?" Lily asked, a fight, an anger in her voice that she didn't expect but didn't know how to control.
"Honestly, we don't know. Not yet. You can go and see her, actually. You haven't yet, have you? She's in the next ward. I'll have one of the ward staff take you over. She's in a special baby box – it's not as horrible as it stands. But because of the problems with her oesophagus and breathing, we're having to help her with eating and breathing, so she's under a few spells, but nothing harmful. It just might take you some getting used to," he explained. Lily wasn't sure what it was he was explaining, but she supposed she wouldn't until she saw her baby.
She looked at Lorcan, so close to tears she could feel them threatening to fall any moment, but she just sighed, absolutely deflated. The Healer poked his head out of the door and called out a name – a name Lily wouldn't remember – and one of the midwifery witches answered his call. She came into room and attempted a happy smile, but it fell quickly. She headed over to the cabinet and took the milk before asking Lily and Lorcan to follow her.
Their baby was asleep. She didn't look that much different from any other baby in her sleep, except for the unusual paleness in her cheeks and the unnatural, steady way she breathed. No one breathed that perfectly, Lily thought. At least, she'd never seen it before.
Lorcan asked if they could hold her, and the ward witch nodded at them with a smile.
Somewhere in the back of Lily's mind, she was aware of how little sleep she'd had, and how little she'd had to eat. The energy she'd expended was no mean feat, but as she leant forward and snaked a hand around the back of her daughter's head, none of that mattered. Nothing at all in the world mattered to Lily but the little girl she was lifting from her resting place with careful hands to cradle in her arms. She was struck by the soft warmth of the child's skin, and the downy hair that clung to it. She was small, for a new born, and as Lorcan's arms rested around the two of them, the scene was almost perfect.
Almost, but not quite.
Because Lily and Lorcan both would go to the ends of the earth for that little life, two hours old. They'd do anything to keep her safe; it was an unspoken bond made immediately. They'd kill for her as soon as they'd give their own lives.
This time, Lily felt the tears as they approached. There was a pain in her chest, an excruciating sharpness, and she closed her eyes as the tears softly fell onto their daughter. Lily opened her eyes and, through the tears, smiled. She was holding her baby girl, after all. Her soft, warm, sleeping baby girl.
After a few moments, the tears began to stay and she handed the newborn to its father. Lorcan took her as if she was the most fragile, precious thing in the world – his arms rigid and nervous, his fingers gentle and protective, his breath hitched. He swallowed back the tears, as if he knew that while the future was still uncertain, they were promised, at least, this moment.
"Do you have a name yet?" the mediwitch prompted, a kind smile on her face as she spoke softly.
Lily looked at Lorcan, hesitant. They'd had a few names in mind over the course of the pregnancy. They'd read lists and lists of names, considering each and every one, and hadn't managed to settle on a single one. They'd narrowed it down to three of each gender, but they'd decided to wait to meet their child before they chose. Now, Lily felt as if she knew. She looked at Lorcan, wondering if he'd thought the same thing. His lip quivered as if he was attempting a smile and he nodded.
"Asha," she told the mediwitch, nodding in confirmation as she said it. "Asha Scamander."
"Beautiful," the mediwitch decided. Lily thought so, too.
It was a week later when the couple were sat down in a sterile office and told to wait for the Healer. He was the same specialist they'd spoken to before, and he always seemed to be in some sort of a rush.
They were exhausted, but wide awake at the prospect of more information. The past week had been one of the most traumatising weeks they'd ever known. After telling their close family and friends, they'd been inundated with sympathetic visitors offering cards and gifts and gift-card-worthy statements of support. Trying to organise it all around hospital visits and the emotional turmoil made them want to lock their doors for good and never let anyone in again, but they knew everyone meant well.
The Healer shuffled in wearing a frown before he'd even begun speaking. He broke it only briefly to smile at them in greeting, but quickly reverted to the anxious expression. Lily didn't think that boded well.
"We all know why we're here so I'll get right to the point," he began before clearing his throat. "The extent of your daughter's problems stretches to four of her major internal organs. Her oesophagus, heart, lungs and liver. All four are under-developed and not able to function normally. We've identified a number of holes in her heart, lungs and oesophagus, and we've ascertained that her oesophagus is not a fully connected tube as it ought to be – there is a gap that has not been bridged in the womb as it ought to have done. There are also issues with her veins and arteries surrounding her heart. Some of the smaller capillaries are not connected where they should be, which is affecting the blood supply to her heart, while others are not fully developed and therefore, like her oesophagus, are not bridged. The issue we're most concerned about at the moment is a rather large hole between her right and left ventricles, the chambers of her heart. It's allowing blood that has not been filtered back into her circulatory system, so her body isn't getting all of the energy it needs to develop properly. The charms she's currently under are keeping her stable and as healthy as can be expected, but she is not responding to any healing magic. I've had conversations this week with a number of experts both in the magical and muggle communities, and we've devised a plan of action that I'd like to discuss with you, and with your consent, go forward with. Do you understand?" he asked.
Lily sat there in a state of uncertainty. She felt overwhelmed already by the amount of information he'd just spewed at them, but she also felt as though she was hearing nothing new. She knew the problems, but it hit home to hear them listed all at once. The damage that had been done – she found herself wondering how Asha was even alive.
Lorcan nodded, answering the Healer's question, and took Lily's hand, who took in a deep breath and prepared herself for the rest of the Healer's words.
"We've developed a five-year plan," the Healer began, but Lily heard no more of his sentence. Five years. Five years. Was he promising her five years with her baby? A week ago, five years would have felt like nothing. It was just the beginning of their journey, only the start of a life. Now, today, five years was something Lily hadn't dared dream of. It was almost an eternity, a gift of the highest value.
She tuned back in when he began to talk of the starting point. He told them they'd need to begin with a muggle operation – rather than relying on magic, they'd have to physically open up her chest and rearrange the tiny blood channels around her heart so they went to the right places, cut a hole in her heart so they could fix the hole there. He said she was too small at the moment – they'd have to wait a few weeks – but that it would make her stronger and healthier in the long run. It would be a start.
After she'd recovered from that, they'd have to look at her oesophagus. The hope was that it would continue to develop on its own, and fix itself, but they didn't know. If it didn't, they'd have to slice her open again and sew it up.
After a life lived with magical solutions to everything, the whole idea of surgery was so alien to Lily, so foreign – she could hardly wrap her mind around the concept. How was it possible they could slice open someone's heart and have it still work? How would it continue to beat? She didn't understand, not in the slightest. It sounded far more dangerous than the problems themselves.
"What if something goes wrong?" she burst out, interrupting the Healer's explanation. He looked taken aback and took time to think before he answered.
"Well, of course there are chances of complications," he began, knitting his eyebrows together.
"What sort of chances?" Lily asked, desperate for the answers she needed, for the reassurance that one day, things were going to be okay.
The Healer sighed. "Open heart surgery is very risky, and especially on one so young. There are numerous things that could go wrong. The surgeon I spoke to gave her a sixty-five to seventy-five percent chance of survival."
Lily closed her eyes. There was a three in ten chance she wouldn't make it.
"I must explain, that's a much better survival rate than she's got now. Without any treatment whatsoever, we're estimating she'll live to ten weeks."
Later, Lily would look back and think of it as the second hardest decision she'd ever made in her life, but right there and then, she didn't know what was to come. All she knew was that the Healer was telling her that her baby girl might die either way. At least, she thought, the surgery would be doing something to try and save her.
She looked at Lorcan and nodded with tears threatening to fall.
"Okay," he told the Healer.
Roughly two and a half months later, Lorcan had needed to return to work, so Lily visited the hospital with her mother during the day, and with him in the evenings. Both surgeries had gone better than expected, but her daughter was still in the hospital, and she was still under spells to keep her alive. There was talk, however, of them gradually reducing the spells, and allowing Asha to visit home. It was promising, and as Lily sat there beside her mother, with her baby in her arms, she risked a smile. She was starting to think of the future.
"When she's old enough, we'll have to take her to Brighton," Lily told her mother.
Ginny smiled. Her and Harry had taken Lily and her brothers there for holidays when they were children. The sea was always freezing, but that never bothered them, and the sun was hot enough to warrant daily ice creams. It had been an idyll, a dream of a long forgotten time, but there was a chance now that it could be realised again.
"She'll have a wonderful life. All the people who've gathered around you through the last few months – she's loved so much," Ginny told her daughter, smiling at the thought.
"She'll be spoiled rotten!" Lily laughed.
That was when it happened.
There was a hiccup in Asha's breathing, Lily felt it as much as she saw it. Lily's senses immediately began to panic, her blood raced, her breath hitched. Asha wriggled a little, her eyes closed, and let out a breath.
She didn't breathe in.
The bell above Asha's cot began to ring violently and mediwitches flocked over. Some called out for a Healer and went off in a panicked search. Asha was taken from Lily as the two women were ushered out.
Lily could do nothing but stare on through the window in a helpless panic.
Lorcan and Lily found themselves face to face with the Healer again. Asha had survived, but only just. Lily hadn't quite calmed down from her mad panic yet, and when Lorcan heard the news, he'd been stricken himself.
"So this afternoon, your daughter suffered a minor cardiac arrest. It was unexpected, but it's had some impacts on her health. She's weaker now. We're no longer able to remove any of the life-supporting spells she's under, and she's unfit for further surgeries. It's… it's hard for me to tell you this, but the signs are all pointing in the same direction. Your daughter is extremely unlikely to ever recover now. The most we can hope for now is a few more months here in the hospital, under magical supervision."
Only one thought crystallised in Lily's mind. That's not a life.
"What are our options?" Lorcan asked, voice hard as stone.
"Well, there are two options. We can continue as we are and hope for the best, or… or we can remove her support system, and say farewell."
The room was silent. The close family were gathered with the Healer, all seated around the crib. Asha was asleep and peaceful.
Lily held Lorcan's hand, her mother and father beside her while Lorcan's parents sat with Lysander around the other side of the crib. James and Albus had asked Lily if she'd wanted them there, but Lily had realised she didn't. If there was any day she was allowed to be selfish, it was today, and Lily wanted nothing more than to cry on her mother's shoulder and hold Lorcan's hand. Her heartbreak didn't need witnesses.
"So, er, if you're ready?" the Healer asked, hesitant and uncomfortable.
Lily knew she'd never be ready. Never would she want to say goodbye to her baby. She wouldn't be ready a million years from now.
She nodded.
He drew his wand, all eyes flitting between him and the baby. Lily stood and walked to the crib, staring down at her daughter.
She placed a gentle kiss on the soft, warm cheek and took Asha's hand in her own. The baby's hand wrapped instinctively around Lily's fingers. Lorcan stood beside her with his arm around her, leaning into her. The others stay seated.
The Healer began to mutter under his breath as magic began to swirl out of his wand. Lily's tears fell freely as the magic keeping Asha alive was undone.
She heard her mother's sobs in the background; heard her father's comforting whispers. Her eyes were fixed on Asha's.
Her breaths grew more shallow and the colour began to drain from her face. It was happening, right there, in front of her eyes.
Lily had never watched someone die before. She didn't know if she'd be able to see it, if she'd know, but when the moment came, she was certain. Her breathing had already stopped, but life clung to her form for a few more seconds. Her eyes were closed softly against the world, but when death came, it took the light from them. The energy that had kept her alive, the colour in her skin, the warmth of her body: all of it seemed to vanish in an instant, and Lily knew, she just knew, that Asha wasn't there anymore. It was just a body now, a stranger wearing Asha's clothes, and Lily's heart broke.
Wracking sobs took over her as her eyes filled with so many tears she could no longer see. Lorcan clung to her tightly, and Lily forgot everything in the world that wasn't her, Lorcan's arms and the dead baby in front of her. Looking away from Asha's frame, even for a second, felt like finality. It felt like goodbye, and Lily couldn't do that yet. She couldn't lose her. Not now. Not ever.
It was her baby, and her baby couldn't be dead.
It wasn't right. It wasn't natural. Her heart couldn't understand it. Her head didn't want to know.
Ginny left first, quickly followed by Harry. She rushed out with her hand over her face, tears streaming, as if it was all too much.
It wasn't long after when Luna reached for Rolf's hand and made to leave. She was crying, too, but she left peacefully, unwilling to disturb the serenity of the despair. Lysander stood and approached the couple, looking at his brother.
Lorcan let go of Lily, just for a moment, to embrace his brother, and Lily realised Lorcan's arm had been grounding her. She was suddenly freefalling through her own grief. Lysander followed the others, and the couple were left alone with their baby, the silent Healer looking on.
It went unspoken that the others would return to say goodbye, but Lily was glad for their absence, just for a few moments. It felt like they were the only ones who'd been able to see it through.
She looked down at the face of her baby one more time, and leaned forward. "I love you," she whispered, and kissed her child for the last time.
She straightened up and drew in a deep, shaky breath. She closed her eyes and turned away.
Each step to the door tore a fresh hole in her heart.
She knew they would never heal.