Written For:

- Day 38 of 366 Days of Writing Challenge: Alone

- Speed Drabble: (word) butterfly, (word) stretch, (dialogue) "You're too good for this world."

Pairings/Characters: Iola

Word Count: 339


Little Butterfly

I never thought it'd be this way, just me and you, we're here alone.

She shouldn't have to have been alone for this.

Iola felt tears streaming down her face as her body stretched and contorted, preparing to give birth to her child. She was in a Muggle hospital, a grim, dirty place, and only one nurse was at her side. Iola knew she was too young and surely hadn't had any of her own children yet, but there wasn't much else she could do.

Her parents had abjured her from the Wizarding World after she chose to marry Bob Hitchens. But that wasn't where it ended, no. When her father discovered that she was pregnant, he cursed her—a dreadful, evil curse, which would prevent Iola from ever having a baby.

When her pregnancy continued, she assumed that the curse had gone wrong, or that her father was merely trying to scare her. But now she knew that something was wrong. She hadn't felt the strong kicks of her baby from within her for a long time. She was going to give birth to a stillborn.

She told Bob the news, and he couldn't take it. He fled her side, promising to return once all of this was over, but Iola wasn't sure she ever wanted to see him again. She had sacrificed her entire life for Bob, and now that she was suffering, he couldn't bear the pain. He had wanted a joyous birth; he wanted a family; but he didn't want the pain.

With one final, painful push, the baby burst out onto the table of which she was laying. She didn't dare look as the nurse bundled up the baby, only daring to sneak a peek when the nurse handed her the child.

It was a boy; a silent, grey little thing. But he was her son, and Iola loved him nonetheless. She pressed a gentle kiss to his cold forehead. "Fly, little butterfly," she whispered. "You're too good for this world."