Disclaimer: Characters and ideas from the Harry Potter franchise are not my own.
Rating & Trigger Warning(s): See Chapter 1 for possible trigger warnings and an explanation of the M rating.
Beyond the Fear
Ch. 25: Twin Emotions
Now that Minerva was stuck in the Hospital Wing for the foreseeable future, her friends tried to establish a visiting schedule to keep her company. Albus would stay overnight and remain for breakfast. At first, he wanted to bring as much work as possible down to her room, but she thought it would be better if he spent the day in his office to get it all done so that he could come back in the evening without any lingering professional responsibilities nagging at him. Still, he dropped by briefly after lunch, when Rolanda joined her, and it comforted him to see that the flying instructor kept her in relatively good spirits.
It helped that Poppy was able to arrange for Healer Loughlin, Minerva's therapist, to come to the castle for her previously scheduled Friday appointments. Their sessions had to be a bit shorter to account for his need to take the Floo from Hogsmeade and back, but she was grateful to be able to talk to him at all. He had helped her manage her anxiety throughout the past several months, and now that she was in a particularly precarious point in her pregnancy, his expertise was essential to maintain Minerva's mental health.
When early evening arrived, Pomona would join Poppy and the patient for dinner, and afterward, Albus would finally return. Only during the day in between meals was Minerva alone in her room, save for Fawkes. If she needed anything, she could readily request for Poppy's assistance or, sometimes, even just her comforting presence. At her bedside was a dial she could turn to alert the school matron to various specific needs or problems, which she recalled from the two weeks she spent in this very room after her potions overdose, only now it included options related to labor.
Over the first week, Albus and Minerva put together the pregnancy scrapbook and reminisced on their experience so far. They wondered if they should make separate ones as the twins grew up to reflect their individual personalities, rather than always force them together for everything. Of course, now they had to be together and likely would through their baby and toddler years, but they needed to be able to explore and develop their own identities. More than anything, the parents-to-be wanted their son and daughter to be companions, not competitors. They recognized that comparisons between siblings, especially when they perceived that one was favored over another, could be damaging.
Malcolm and Melinda came to visit on Sundays. At first, Minerva wasn't sure that she wanted to see her brother, or rather, that she was willing to let him see her so vulnerable and reliant on others. Once she was no longer completely bedbound, she decided that she might like to see him after all. She was especially grateful that Melinda had gone back to the maternity shops in Edinburgh and brought along two more labor-and-delivery gowns like the one she had purchased previously, only in different colors. They were much more comfortable than the standard-issue hospital gowns. Poppy permitted them because they snapped open in front and at the shoulders to accommodate the tethers of magical monitors and allow access for breastfeeding and skin-to-skin time with the babies. Beyond their physical comfort and functionality, they made Minerva feel more like a whole person and less like just a patient.
Two weeks into her stay, Minerva grew restless with the monotony of things. Seeing her friends every day helped, but she couldn't stop herself from feeling envious of them for being able to leave when they kept her up to date about the goings on in the school. Her daily laps around the room were far less thrilling than her workouts with Rolanda or even the casual strolls about the grounds that she took with Pomona. Now, she was also on the last of the novels that Albus had initially brought down to her.
She tried to heed the "rest" in "bedrest" but found it difficult to nap during the day or sleep much at night. Between the babies in her belly and the mere fact that the bed wasn't hers, feeling comfortable was elusive. Even though Albus spent every night with her (after much insistence from the couple to Poppy that they continue to share a bed throughout her hospitalization), she still slept very little. His presence kept her calm, which wasn't nothing, but she was exhausted.
Albus had trouble sleeping, too. At home, he used to wake up and fall back asleep quickly whenever Minerva got up to use the loo several times a night. Now, he helped her out of bed and assisted her to the bathroom. At first, her "toilet privileges" stipulated that someone accompany her, but even after she was allowed proper privacy, she asked Albus or Poppy to join her because she found it annoying to manage the collection of enchanted objects to which she was magically attached. All day and all night, she and the twins were constantly monitored.
"Thank you, dear," Minerva murmured when Albus helped her settle back into bed after what she hoped would be her last trip for the night. It was four o' clock in the morning.
"You're welcome, as always." He climbed into bed behind her and reached over her pregnancy pillow to lay a hand on the side of her belly. "Seven months today."
"And I feel every bit seven months pregnant with twins. I'm exhausted, uncomfortable, and massive… but it's a good thing." She couldn't complain too much about her discomfort if it meant they were still growing inside her. Her gratitude, however, didn't stop her from making requests of her husband to aid in alleviating the aches and pains. "Is it too much to ask for a back rub at this hour? I miss your ridiculous bathtub. It seems that floating in the water did wonders for me."
"Our ridiculous bathtub. And no, nothing is too much for you to ask of me now. I wish I could do more to help you." He began to rub circles on her lower back once she adjusted her position relative to her pillow to allow him access.
"Oh, thank you." She purred contentedly. "My back has been aching all night."
"You've got nearly eight pounds of baby in your belly. I'm not surprised."
"Well, it's bothering me more than usual tonight. Practice contractions have been exacerbating the pain."
"I'm sorry. I know they've started to happen more frequently. I wish you could take pain relievers or even Dreamless Sleep."
"I hope you know I'm going to try to fall asleep while you're doing this."
"That's fine. You need the rest. I will be quiet now."
Albus drifted off before she did, but it was not for long. Within the hour, Minerva needed to get up again.
"I should've kept the bloody catheter," she groaned. Her first twenty-four hours in the Hospital Wing, she didn't even have "toilet privileges" and was confined to the bed. The humbling experience of requiring a bedpan was one she was glad to be done with, but now the frustrating frequency with which she arose made her rethink just how much she valued the "privilege" of permission to use the bathroom by herself.
Albus groggily grumbled when awakened. "Sorry. Coming, dear." It took him nearly as long to drag himself out of bed as it did for Minerva to hoist herself up.
"Oh, fuck me," she muttered, wincing a bit.
"Hm?" Albus hummed questioningly as he automatically arranged the floating charts that recorded her and the babies' vital signs in real time. After nearly two weeks of this, he probably could do it in his sleep. "What's wrong?"
"Like I said, these practice contractions don't play well with my backache. At least, I hope they're still the false kind and not actually irregular real ones."
"Poppy said your cervix hasn't changed since she admitted you. I think the potions are working," Albus said optimistically, yawning. He rubbed the small of her back as he guided her to the bathroom.
Every morning had been largely the same. They woke up, Minerva went to the loo, ate first breakfast, and had a visit from Poppy with the labor-delaying potions, lung-development potions, and an examination. Then, Minerva would get the all-clear to continue with her usual routine, and Albus would help her get a shower before they both got dressed (Minerva in another nightgown, Albus in proper daywear) and shared breakfast at the normal time.
"Albus?" Minerva called.
"Yes, dear?"
"Call Poppy."
"Is something wrong?" He poked his head into the doorway.
"I—I think this is the 'show' that we read about."
The bloody show. Poppy told them about it, too, along with other signs of impending labor. "I'll turn the dial," he said and pointed the hand toward the "Labor?" setting. Then he returned to his post at the door. "May I come in?"
"Please."
Albus stepped inside and took his wife's free hand. Her right hand gripped her wand tightly and pointed at her knickers. Indeed, the thick discharge was tinted with pink. "Did you use the spell, too?"
"No. I—I drew my wand and froze."
"I understand. Poppy should be here any moment now. Do you want to wait for her, or would you like me to do it?"
"We can wait for her. I'm sure she'll confirm it. Oh, gods, Albus. I never thought I'd say that I hope I labor for days," Minerva said, but it was true. The incubators were due to arrive Saturday. It was Thursday.
When they heard the door open, Albus called out, "In here!"
The mediwitch joined the couple in the bathroom. As she entered, she said, "You think you might be in labor, Min?"
"Is this—is this the 'bloody show'?"
Poppy glanced down at her patient's panties. "Oh. Yes." She performed the spell as she spoke. "Yes, it is. All right, Minerva, let's not panic. We'll get you back to bed and see how much you've progressed, and then we'll discuss how to approach this, okay?"
Minerva nodded nervously and soon acquiesced to her daily examination, taking place a few hours early.
"You've effaced a bit more and are about an inch dilated," Poppy said. She looked at one of her charts and unfurled the long sheet of floating parchment. "And overnight, you've been having contractions—irregularly, but this says they're longer than the false ones you've had before. Does that sound right, or were you able to sleep through them?"
"Erm, I don't know. Maybe? All I know is my back always hurt more when they were happening."
"Okay. Some witches feel it in their back. That's normal. Now, until you're two-and-a-half inches, this is the latent stage of labor, which often lasts the longest. Our goal is to keep you as relaxed and comfortable as possible. I know that can be difficult at times, but you're welcome to try different positions, have your back rubbed, whatever helps you through it. We also need you to stay hydrated and keep your energy up. If you can manage to eat something light when you're hungry and even take a nap, I encourage you to do so. I'll check on your periodically, but don't hesitate to call in between. Let me know if you need anything, all right?"
"I need them to stay in," Minerva whispered.
"Oh, dearie, I know this isn't ideal, but they're on their way now. The incubators will be here this weekend. Even if they were to arrive this afternoon, that would only be two days of us manually keeping them warm and stable. You're past thirty weeks now, so as long as no additional complications occur, they should be fine with some extra care. Since this is your first time, you're unlikely to progress that quickly, and we might not see them until tomorrow. Laboring in this stage for six to twelve hours, or even longer, is common for new mums. Then you'll have several hours of established labor—four to eight is typical—and finally up to a few hours of pushing. We have a bit of time to prepare.
"When a slightly more reasonable hour strikes, I'll let Melinda and Izzie know that your labor is underway. I will monitor you, and as long as you are still doing okay and the babies aren't in distress, we will watch and wait as you progress naturally. I'll call your team again when you're in established labor, continue to monitor you, and then when you're in transition, I will ask them to come. If you'd like them to come sooner, I'm sure you haven't forgotten that Izzie has offered to be on-call for you. Melinda said she would clear her schedule once you're in established labor."
Minerva looked from Poppy to Albus and back to Poppy. "Can I really do this?"
"Yes, you can do it, my little tabby. I believe in you, and I'll be here the whole time to help you through it," Albus said encouragingly.
Poppy smiled. "Min, you've made it this far. I know you can make it through to the end."
"I can really call you for anything?"
"Anything at all," Poppy confirmed.
"And you promise to stay the entire time?"
"Of course, dear. Am I your birth partner or not? Fawkes can fetch me if there's anything truly urgent that needs my doing. Otherwise, to hell with the mundane tasks. I'll leave them to the weekend—or to Filius and Pomona."
Minerva took a deep breath. "Okay. I can do it. I can get through this." She placed her hands on her belly. "We're going to meet you soon, kittens."
By late afternoon, Minerva's contractions began to increase in frequency and intensity. She spent the day pacing the room, drinking glass upon glass of water, and constantly emptying her bladder. She tried to sleep with little success, and she did her best to munch on light snacks here and there, even though she didn't feel much like eating. Rolanda visited at lunchtime as usual and did her best to distract Minerva and boost her confidence. As the dinner hour approached, Pomona appeared at the door right on time as her friend worked through one of her more intense contractions. Albus and Minerva had been timing them, and he pulled open the door just after her second in a span of six minutes.
"Hello, Pomona. Minerva has requested me to turn away visitors now. We think she is close to the 'established' phase of labor, and she said, verbatim, 'You bloody well better not let anyone besides my birth team see me like this!'"
"Oh, then please give her my love! I hope everything goes well! Take care of her, Albus—I know you will. Fil and I will manage all the school's needs over the next few days."
"Thank you," Albus said and gave an apologetic expression when his wife growled at him.
"Shut the damn door!" She felt another contraction start to ramp up and did not want anyone in the main ward to catch a glimpse of her through the cracked door.
Albus obeyed and ran back to the bed, where she was on all fours and clenching her teeth. He sat in his chair as close to her as possible and carefully slipped his arms under hers. She draped her arms over his shoulders and leaned into him as the pain picked up. He held onto her to support her weight and continually kissed her head that bore into his chest.
After more than a minute, Minerva relaxed, and Albus guided her into a sitting position. It was time to call Poppy again. This time, he turned the dial to "Labor!"
The mediwitch returned to check on her. "Okay, dearie. They're coming about three minutes apart and lasting at least sixty seconds each, according to your monitor. How are you coping?"
"How am I coping? This is rubbish. Is it really going to be like this for six hours?" Minerva asked, grimacing.
"It could be less, but yes, you'll likely have several more hours until you're fully dilated. Let me see how far you've come." Minerva spread her legs as needed and allowed Poppy to take a look. "Good. You're just under two-and-a-half inches now. When you get to three-and-a-half, I'll summon Melinda and Izzie. Like I've said, you probably have several hours before the next stage, but do let me know if you feel pressure, like an urge to have a bowel movement. That might mean you're approaching transition. Now, are you hungry at all? I can get you ice lollies. I'm sorry I can't give you anything more substantial."
Minerva shook her head and fumbled for her husband's hand. Breathe. Breathe. It's only for a minute. And then a couple minutes to rest.
Poppy pulled a washcloth from the cupboard and cast a Cooling Charm on it. She wiped the sweat from her patient's brow. Once the wave ended, she continued to speak: "I'll continue to check on you periodically, but please don't hesitate to call me if you need anything or something seems wrong. Keep listening to your body. It knows what to do."
"Perhaps I do want an ice lolly."
"Okay." The school matron Summoned a single popsicle. "I'll bring you a small box of them after I fire-call your team."
"Thank you," Minerva said as she unwrapped the pink frozen treat. It was strawberry flavored.
"I suppose it'll be a late-night delivery, then," Albus said after Poppy left. As it was just after five, the shorter estimate would put them in the nine o' clock hour to start pushing, and the longer would be after one a.m. "Or early morning, possibly, depending on how you think about it."
"How I think about it is that I'm going to be exhausted." She sucked on the popsicle. "And probably starving, if all I can have is ice lollies now. You're allowed a proper dinner, you know. One of us needs to have energy."
"Okay, dear. I'll have dinner sent for me after your next contraction—and I'll pause to help you through subsequent ones while I'm eating, of course."
As the evening progressed, Minerva cycled through various positions. When she wasn't too tired, she preferred to stand and lean on Albus as they gently swayed side-to-side. Although he hated to see her in pain, he enjoyed the intimacy of practically slow dancing with her while her body prepared for their babies to arrive. Other times, she made herself at home sitting backward on the toilet with a Conjured pillow to cushion her bump and arms, or she knelt on the bed and hung onto Albus for leverage. When she needed a longer rest, she reclined in bed, propped up by pillows, and tried to savor the cooling comforts of ice chips and fruit-flavored popsicles.
"I predicted correctly. I am fucking exhausted," Minerva muttered as ten p.m. neared. "It's past my bedtime."
"Well, you used to be something of a night owl. Perhaps our twins are, too."
"To mark homework, dear, not for fun. Anyway, I don't think their birth time has any correlation with their propensity to stay up late."
Albus shrugged. "What can I do to help you keep your energy up?"
"Dunno. I'm not allowed potions. I suppose all I can do is hydrate, keep moving around, and hope for the best." She sighed. "I think we're getting close, though."
"I know Poppy said you might be there the next time she plans to check," Albus said. She was just over three inches dilated at her last visit. "Do you feel different somehow?"
"I think Artemis is making her way down. I'm starting to feel a bit more pressure."
"Should we call? Is it like you need to go to the toilet?"
Their conversation was interrupted by a contraction. Sat up in bed, Minerva found herself instinctively chomping down on the ice lolly in her mouth, caring little that it froze her teeth. In fact, the green watermelon-flavored treat distracted her somewhat with its cold temperature.
"Give it a bit. Let's see if it persists," she said when she could next speak.
Persist it did, and they summoned Poppy.
"Hello again, Min. Albus. What can I do for you?"
"I, erm, I'm feeling pressure down below."
"All right, I'll see where you are now—after this contraction."
Minerva rolled onto her side, and Albus accepted her squeezing hand. She groaned with this one, which lasted nearly a minute and a half. "Oh gods, I really feel like I need the loo," she eked out in between breaths after the pain passed its peak.
"Dearie, I do believe that's just baby. You're past three-and-a-half inches. I'm going to call Mel and Izzie, and we're all going to support you as you finish dilating and transition to the next stage."
"We're almost there, love," Albus murmured when Poppy bustled out of the room.
"The hard part is still to come," Minerva said.
"And you are going to do brilliantly." He pecked her lips. "I mean it when I say that you're the strongest witch I know."
A mere five minutes later, Melinda arrived, dressed in her midwifery robes.
"Hi, Min. How are you holding up?"
"Trying not to think too much about what's to come," Minerva said as Albus wiped sweat from her forehead. "Is Mal out there?"
"He's in Poppy's office. He wanted me to tell you that he's 'proud' of his 'brave big sister' and sends his love—and of course, that he can't wait to meet his niece and nephew."
Albus and Minerva planned for the uncles to be the first—beyond the parents and birth team—to meet the twins once they were stabilized. Since they didn't need Melinda earlier, Malcolm took the Floo with her now. Aberforth also was meant to arrive by Floo; someone just needed to contact him. Aunties Ro and Pomona would be next, and Poppy agreed that the four of them could sit in her office while they waited for Minerva to finish her labor and delivery.
"I hope he finds they're worth staying up for."
"I'm sure he will. He's worried that they're coming early, but he's excited. Poppy told us that your labor has gone smoothly so far, so let's hope that continues." Melinda looked at the charts recording mother and babies' vital signs. She turned around after glancing at her uterine activity monitor to see that Minerva was indeed going into another contraction, just as the chart indicated. "Okay, Min. Breathe. You can do it."
"These are getting really intense."
"I know, Min. It'll be like this until it's time to push, but you can make it through. We're all going to be here for you."
"Squeeze my hand all you need, dear. Don't hold back. I love you," Albus said. "Would you like me to get Fawkes?"
"Fawkes?" Melinda asked.
"My phoenix," Albus clarified. "We know he can help you feel calmer, at least."
Minerva nodded. "Hug first?"
"Of course." He embraced her securely. "I'll be back in a flash."
Despite herself, Minerva rolled her eyes. She knew he meant that literally. Albus scurried out of the room and into Poppy's office, just as Izzie stepped out of the fireplace.
"Uncle Albus!" She was the first person to notice him, and everyone turned to face him.
"Poppy, is it okay if I fetch Fawkes for Min?" he asked quickly. "And hello, Isobel. Malcolm. Pomona. Rolanda. And Aberforth! You're here. Thank you."
"I'm becoming an uncle, and my brother is becoming a father. Of course, I'm here."
Poppy cleared her throat. "Yes, you may get your phoenix. His presence seems to help Minerva—and, well, everyone—calm down and stay focused. It should be fine for him to perch in his usual spot."
"Thank you," Albus said and tossed Floo powder into the fire to travel to his office. "Fawkes, my friend. It's almost time. Will you support us?"
The intelligent bird responded by offering his tail, and they teleported into Minerva's room, where Poppy and Izzie had joined Melinda. Fawkes flew to the headboard and watched over the laboring woman. He immediately began to sing softly; it was clear that they'd returned during another long contraction. Albus hurried back to his seat.
"You're doing great, Aunt Min," Izzie said as she offered her an ice chip.
Minerva slurped it up and focused on the cold sensation on her tongue while working on her breathing. She reached for Albus when she saw he'd come back.
"I love you, dear. Fawkes and I are here, and we're not going anywhere."
Minerva wanted to express her gratitude, but she was distracted. She suddenly began to sweat even more, and a wave of nausea crashed over her. "Don't feel well," she mumbled.
"'Not well' how, Min?" Poppy asked.
She whimpered, and Albus interjected for her. He knew that sound; after all, he'd heard it almost daily throughout her first trimester. "Like she needs to vomit, Poppy."
Melinda Levitated a sick basin in front of her; it was clear that Minerva wasn't going to let go of her husband's hand to hold it herself. She brought up what little she had in her stomach, and the midwife followed up with a Minty Fresh Charm for her mouth.
"It's normal to feel sick at this stage," Poppy said. "You could be close now. Let's check you again."
"It's okay, dear. This is hard work, and you're doing wonderfully," Albus said. Although she learned to get past her embarrassment at being sick in front of him, he knew that she didn't feel that level of comfort with anyone else—even her family and three best friends.
Physically, Minerva felt a bit better, but emotionally, she wasn't particularly comforted by the reassurance that everything she felt was normal. She was exhausted. The contractions were now stronger than ever. They were only about two minutes apart and lasted almost as long. It was nearly eleven at night, and she'd been in active labor for about six hours, which followed at least twelve hours of latent labor.
"I can't fucking do this."
Her partner and birthing team all responded with some variation of, "Yes, you can!"
"You can do this, my love. You are Minerva McGonagall: brilliant, brave, and strong. Very soon, you will also be Minerva McGonagall, mother of twins. My little tabby, tonight you are truly a lioness. You can and you will do this."
"Very soon indeed, Aunt Min," Izzie chimed in. "You're at four inches: fully dilated."
Fully dilated. It's almost time to push. Okay. I can do it for the kittens: to have Artemis and Apollo on my chest and in my arms.
"All right, Min. Let's adjust into your preferred birthing position. You said you wanted to sit up in bed with Albus behind you. Is that correct?" Poppy said.
Minerva nodded. Fawkes flitted upward briefly to allow the medical team to adjust the bed. The head was raised up and the foot of it down. Melinda and Izzie helped Minerva shift into a squat-like position and held her bent legs apart. Albus climbed in behind her to support her weight. During contractions, she would curl forward and push, and in between, she could rest against him.
"I'm right here. Lean on me all you need." He massaged her shoulders while she reclined against his chest.
"Just hold me, please," Minerva said. She relaxed slightly when she felt his hands move to her waist. He gave her a sense of security, which she needed especially now to alleviate her anxiety. The idea of pushing out two babies made her nervous, but their premature arrival also made her fear for their chances once they were out.
To prepare for delivery, the bottom buttons of her birthing gown were unsnapped, and the two sides of the garment now laid spread out behind her. She was exposed starting from the middle of her bump, and Albus gently held her bare waist. He could feel her belly tighten when her next contraction began.
"Ah, and here come your waters," Poppy remarked just as Minerva felt a gush of liquid rush out of her and a sudden overwhelming urge to push. "Okay, dearie. You're ready to go, so you can push with the contractions. We'll guide you, but most of all, listen to your body. Rest when you need to. You can do this."
Albus continually whispered words of encouragement, and Fawkes sang in his way of supporting his companion's wife and soon-to-be born children. When Artemis finally crowned, Minerva understood the term "ring of fire" and crushed her husband's hands with hers, shouting blasphemous phrases that would've horrified her religious father.
"Minerva, you're doing great!" Poppy said.
"Once her head is out, it'll just be a few more pushes, Min. You can do it," Melinda added.
"You're amazing, Aunt Min."
During her next rest, Albus fed her more ice chips and wiped her brow. "My love, you are doing the most incredible thing I've ever seen." A mirror was floating in such a way that he could see everything that was happening. It was fascinating but unnerving at the same time to watch her body stretch to accommodate their daughter's head as she tried to make her way out. "Do you want to look?"
"Fuck, no, absolutely not," she responded through gritted teeth. She'd kept her eyes shut tight for these intense pushes, and she had little desire to see what was happening between her legs. Feeling was enough for her; she could look when Artemis made her full debut.
As her sister-in-law promised, the final pushes after she got the head out were much easier. With her birth team's encouragement and her husband's cheers, Minerva gave one last push. Five minutes to midnight, and Artemis was out! Her cries were quiet, but Melinda assured her that was normal for premature babies. Even with the lung development potions Minerva had taken over the past two weeks, Artemis still had much growing to do to have lungs strong enough for a fierce cry. Poppy immediately transferred the magical monitor from Minerva's belly to Artemis and handed her to Izzie.
"Wow, she's doing really well," Izzie said, evidently pleased with her vital signs, and placed the small baby onto the new mother's bare chest. There, she cleaned up Artemis and did the initial examination. Melinda covered her head with a tiny white hat while Izzie maintained her temperature with Warming Charms.
Minerva finally opened her eyes when she realized her daughter was born. As soon as she set sight on her newborn and felt her by her breast, tears began streaming down her face. She brought her hands up to hold her baby. She's here. She's here, and she's okay.
"Artemis," Albus breathed. He laid a hand on top of Minerva's as they held their child for the first time. "You did it, love. Our darling daughter is here."
"Do the honors, dear," Minerva murmured when Melinda asked if they wanted to cut the cord. Albus reached for his wand on the bedside table and decided that this simple severing spell was the most marvelous act ever performed by the Elder Wand.
A bewitched camera photographed the proud parents as they gazed lovingly at their daughter. She was smaller than any baby either had seen before at three pounds and fourteen ounces, but she was alive and well, as far as the medical team and monitors could tell. To them, she was perfect.
"How special is it that you've got one baby on your breast and the other in your belly," Albus commented. We'll see your brother soon, Artemis.
Minerva enjoyed some skin-to-skin contact with her daughter before the contractions started up again. Isobel brought the baby to one of the beds and continued to work her magic to keep Artemis stable. Now with just Melinda and Poppy, it was time to deliver Apollo.
"Okay, Min. We're going to have to try and turn him, and once he makes his way down to the birth canal, you can start pushing again," Poppy said. While Artemis presented with her head down, Apollo still was poised to exit feet first. "Melinda is going to perform the imaging spell so that I can see him as I rotate him into a better position."
Poppy had warned them at their thirty-week checkup and scan that this might be the most difficult part if he didn't adjust naturally upon the birth of his sister. Minerva felt Apollo's waters break (again) and braced herself even more than she had before, expecting the rotation process to be painful. However, just after the image of her womb projected onto the enchanted parchment, alarms started to go off.
Albus saw their faces fall, and although he didn't quite know what he was seeing, he knew the alarms were from Apollo's monitor. He wanted to demand answers and shout, "What is it? What's happening?" Instead, he bit his tongue and squeezed his wife's hands; his job was to keep her calm. They didn't need her monitor alarms to sound, too.
Minerva had her eyes shut while trying to breathe through the contraction, but her rising panic made this her most difficult yet. When she heard Poppy say, "We need to get him out now," she wanted to push with all her might—only she didn't know if that would mitigate or exacerbate the situation. Apollo. What is happening to you? Come on, kitten. Mummy loves you and can't wait to meet you.
"Izzie, is she stable enough? We need to do an emergency evacuation. Cord prolapse," Melinda called across the room.
Albus now realized what he saw on the projected image: Apollo's umbilical cord fell into the birth canal before he did. We need to rescue Apollo, we need to keep Artemis alive out here, and Minerva needs me to keep her together.
"I've got her breathing supported, but I've still got to regulate her temperature," Isobel said.
"We're going to have to start this on our own, Mel. Izzie, when she's ready, come help us. He's going to need extra support if we can get him out in time."
"If" we can get him out in time? Albus thought. Apollo, please. Hang on, jellybean. You've been through so much already. Please make it through this.
"Poppy? What do I do? Do I push?" Minerva asked breathlessly. The once joyful tears spilling from her eyes turned to tears of terror.
"No, not now. We need to get pressure off the cord first. We're going to have to turn you onto your hands and knees. Albus, you'll need to get up. You can help us move her."
Minerva felt like she'd lost control of her body—of her life. This isn't happening. I'm sorry, Apollo. I'm failing you.
While Albus, Poppy, and Melinda shifted Minerva into a new position, Izzie yelled out an update: "I'm sorry, she's taking a while to stabilize. Her temperature doesn't want to stay up."
Suddenly, Fawkes flew from the perch over to Artemis. He landed beside her and pressed his body up against her with a protective wing over her tiny frame.
Isobel spluttered in surprise and confusion. Mystical birds hugging newborns was not a topic introduced in Healer school or specialty training. "Erm, Uncle Albus—your bird? He's—he's—oh. Her temperature is up! It's good! Okay. Okay—Poppy, Aunt Mel, I'm coming over."
Thank you, Fawkes, Albus thought. He was relieved that Artemis seemed to be okay thanks to the phoenix, but he knew that Apollo wasn't out of the woods yet.
"Min, this is going to hurt. I'm sorry, but we need to do it."
Holy fucking shit. This was worse than the "ring of fire" had been. Now on her knees and forearms with her head resting on a pillow, she gripped the sheets like she had her cat claws and had the strange urge to bite the hand on hers, as if that would ease her pain somehow. Instead, she let out a feral scream as one wand magically stretched out the birth canal, and another created a vacuum to pull out her distressed son.
Albus brought his head to her eye level. They weren't open, but he was sure she knew he was right in front of her. "Minerva, I'm here. I'm here with you, my love. Fawkes is taking care of Artemis. Poppy, Melinda, and Isobel are helping Apollo. I am here for you. You are so incredibly strong and brave. I love you. You can make it through this."
His eyes darted back and forth between Minerva and her birth team. He was glad the floating mirror was no longer present; he wasn't sure he could tolerate the sight of his son being wrenched from his wife's womb. Isobel caught him this time. There was no cry.
It's just quiet, Albus tried to tell himself. Artemis was quiet when she came out, and her birth was smooth. Apollo had some trouble, so he just needs a moment to… catch his breath?
Through the dread gradually overtaking him, he could hear only bits and pieces of what was being said as he witnessed Poppy and Isobel take away their son. There was no immediate skin-to-skin time like they had with Artemis. Instead, Apollo needed two Healers to work on him—and perhaps Melinda would have joined them, too, if she didn't stay behind to guide Minerva through her final delivery: the placentas.
"Heart rate's too low…"
"…not enough oxygen…"
"Just a few more contractions, Min…"
Had Minerva needed to make effortful pushes to deliver the placentas, they might have never come out. All she could do was stare blankly as her uterus did as it should. The silence of her son deafened her, and in her heart, she was sure he wasn't going to make it.
He didn't need stabilizing; he needed reviving. But no magic could raise the dead. There was no wound for phoenix tears to fix. There was just a baby boy, whose lifeline got caught between his body and his mother's birth canal, and he was far too fragile to survive the loss of blood flow to his brain. She couldn't blame her birth team. They got him out as quickly as they could, faster than it would've taken to transfer her to St. Mungo's. When there was no one to blame, Minerva took it upon herself.
I failed you, Apollo. I failed to fulfill my most fundamental responsibility as your mother: to keep you alive. First, I couldn't keep your bag of waters intact as long as I should have, and now I couldn't keep you safe as you tried to enter the world.
Eventually, Poppy turned around, stony-faced. "Minerva. Albus. I'm afraid he doesn't have much time."
Albus felt his knees buckle. He collapsed into his chair but still managed to hold tight to Minerva's hand. He couldn't keep it in anymore: "No. My boy, my sweet son—no. No. NO. APOLLO!"
Minerva's motherly instincts had already told her his fate. She wept silently, not knowing how to reconcile the absolute ecstasy of her daughter's successful birth and the abject horror of her son's imminent demise.
"Do you want to hold him as he passes?" Poppy asked gently.
"I—I can hold him?" Minerva asked, her voice a mere squeak. "Can I—can I hold them both? So they—so they can be together one last time?"
"If you want to, yes," Poppy said. "Izzie? Can you bring her to them, please?"
Isobel nodded solemnly and went to collect Artemis. Poppy Silenced Apollo's alarms and carefully placed him on Minerva. With her daughter now on her chest, who was once again stabilized by her cousin's spells, it was clear how little life was left in her son. After seven months with him inside her, she knew what his magic felt like, and she could tell it was fading fast. His innate magic might have been the only thing that kept him alive this long after his cord collapsed.
Albus pulled himself together enough to hug his wife and children. I am their father. I am Min's husband. I need to be strong for them.
"Mummy loves you, Apollo. You're perfect. Thank you for keeping your sister company in my belly. Thank you for all of the joy you brought me as you grew. I'm so sorry this is happening, baby. I hope you're not suffering. I wish I could have done better for you. I wish I could—" Her voice caught in her throat as the tightness grew too thick. She broke down into desolate sobs as she clung to her son.
Albus reached to stroke Apollo's small face. He wanted to speak to him, too, but he could only manage a single sentence before burying his face in his wife's shoulder: "Daddy loves you, too."
All the while, the bewitched camera photographed the grief-stricken parents, for it was enchanted to capture the moments with the babies on their mother. They didn't know if they wanted evidence of this memory, but it would be there if they decided later that they did. Fawkes flitted over to wrap his wings around his family. When his feathers touched Artemis, the tiny girl managed to extend an arm out to her brother. Apollo took his last breath with his parents, twin sister, and father's faithful phoenix touching him.
Fawkes sang his lament.
Author's Note: Well, I wrecked myself writing the end of this chapter, even though I knew this would happen the whole time.
Thank you again for reading! As always, I appreciate your messages, reviews, follows, and favorites!