"Eira… Eira, you're bleeding," Remus tried to restore her to her senses, for Eira had not yet noticed; she clung to Remus, sobbing about the voices, the cold laughter, the horrible whispers, and did not seem to realise that she was losing her baby. Even when she finally noticed the blood, Eira didn't understand what was happening.

Remus jumped to action, bidding Eira to stay still. "I'll fetch help, it's alright…it's alright…"

"Remus, why am I bleeding?" she looked at him in pale shock, trembling violently. "What's happening?"

"Just stay still," he said again, trying to stay calm.

"No, don't go!" she cried, grabbing his sleeve.

"Eira," he spoke sternly, looking into her panicked eyes, "You're safe, but I need to send for help. Stay here and don't move."

Terrible pain overcame her as he left the room; her stomach twisted with cramps and she doubled over, clutching her belly, moaning in pain. She curled up on the bed with her hands between her legs, clenching her thighs together, as if trying to prevent the baby from leaving her body. She was sobbing loudly when Remus returned in a rush; he knelt beside her and pressed a cold wet cloth to her forehead.

"Astrid is coming. She will know what to do."

"There is nothing to do," Eira wept.

"Just breathe, Eira," he said gently, "Just keep breathing through it."

Remus had used the fireplace to contact Astrid, knowing she would be at home. She apparated to Remus's cottage a few minutes later, carrying a large leather bag with her and wasted no time the moment she stepped through the door.

"She woke up screaming about voices and visions," Remus said in a rush as he followed her into the room, "I ran down and then I saw she was bleeding."

Astrid nodded and rushed to Eira's side, pulling out her wand, "Eira, sweetie, it's alright."

With a simple, quick incantation, she calmed Eira enough to stop her twisting and thrashing about on the bed. She went still, but sobbed quietly, clutching her belly. This allowed Astrid to examine her and decide what action needed to be taken. Remus watched anxiously from the doorway, searching Astrid's face for any hint of relief or worry. He kept silent and still while Astrid performed her examination, only speaking when she finally sat back and began to rummage through her bag.

"Can you do anything?" Remus asked.

"Her water's broken," Astrid murmured, "and her cervix is dilated."

"What does that mean?"

"Just go get some towels, lots of them, some clean rags, and boil some water," she instructed him, then turned back to Eira, looking at her, "Eira, I need you to sit up."

Eira, in a subdued haze, glanced at her; she had gone ashen white and did not move, but shook her head vehemently, "No…no…"

"Eira, listen to me," Astrid said gently, "We are going to deliver this baby now. You're in labour."

"But it's too early," Eira said as Astrid eased her up against the pillows. Her eyes were wide and frightened.

"I know," Astrid continued to speak softly, holding Eira's hand firmly. "But your baby is struggling."

Remus came back with at least a dozen towels and a large handful of clean, white rags, which he deposited at the end of the bed.

"Boiling water now, please. And don't use magic."

"Uh, yes…" he hurried off again, confused. It then slowly dawned on him that Astrid simply wanted him out of the way and distracted.

"Okay," Astrid said when she had Eira in a comfortable position.

"Is my baby going to die?"

Astrid looked at her with deep compassion; her purple eyes shined with tears as she was forced to admit the truth. "Your baby can't survive, sweetie. I'm so sorry."

"But you're a witch…" Eira's voice began to rise slightly, "Why can't you save it?"

"Eira, please just listen to me right now," she rubbed her arm soothingly, "You're going to need to push. Can you still feel those pains in your belly?"

Eira nodded tearfully and Astrid continued. "Those are contractions. Your baby is coming, and we need to help it along. So—" she turned as Remus came back with the steaming kettle of hot water, which he placed on the floor. "Thank you, Remus. Can you wait in the kitchen now please?"

"Get Cissy!" Eira cried out, "She'll know what to do. Please get Narcissa. I want her."

"Narcissa isn't a midwife," Astrid replied shortly, "Eira, I'm sorry but there's nothing that can be done."

Remus stepped out into the kitchen and shut the door while Eira continued to plead and beg for Narcissa, for which Astrid flatly refused to comply. Fortunately, the pain swiftly caused Eira to forget her determination and she instead let out a long, intense scream; it was not the same scream she had woken Remus with, but was rather a deeper, more carnal scream through which she gritted her teeth. She felt as though her insides were coming out; she was pushing without really knowing it, acting on instinct.

"That's it, good!" Astrid said encouragingly. "Take a breath now."

Eira felt hot and sticky, she panted for a breath, her face still ghostly white in spite of her increasing temperature. Within twenty minutes, it was over. Astrid hurriedly wrapped the tiny baby inside a warm towel before Eira knew it had been delivered. A sharp, awful silence followed, like the still silence of a battlefield after the guns stop firing. The baby did not cry. Eira did not move. Astrid tried to keep her hands steady to not let Eira see that she was trembling too.

"Let me hold my baby," Eira said weakly, barely above a whisper.

Astrid nodded and carefully handed the baby, which was no bigger than Eira's hand, and wiped her eyes with her sleeve. "A girl."

Eira crumbled into tears and held her baby, her tiny little girl, against her chest and just sobbed. There was nothing else to do. This was not how she had imagined she would give birth; in her version, Sirius was beside her, holding her hand, and their baby was alive. In her version of reality, Narcissa was congratulating her, bearing gifts, telling her how wonderful she had done. But in this reality, Eira was holding her dead child and felt truly alone, wishing nothing more than to die.

Narcissa did not hear from Eira all week. She sent letters and notes to Eira, all of which went unanswered, and Narcissa quickly began to despair, not yet knowing what had occurred. Lucius could not rouse her from bed most mornings and was quickly growing frustrated with her behaviour, knowing without any doubt that her despondence was due to Eira's withdrawn attentions. On the fifth successive morning, when Narcissa still would not get up and dress, Lucius had finally lost patience.

"Narcissa," he woke her with a start, jerking her shoulder, "Get up. I have arranged for a healer to see you today."

"Wh-what?" she did not at first register a word he had said, still heavy with sleep.

"Get dressed," he said. He pulled the covers back, so she felt the bitter chill of the room.

Narcissa only sank back deeper against the pillows and snatched the covers back, pulling them over herself. "No, I'm tired, Lucius."

"How can you possibly be tired when all you do is sleep and lounge idly?" he snapped. "It is a bright morning and I have made arrangements to have you seen."

"Seen?" she frowned.

"Were you not listening? I have arranged for a healer to see you."

"I don't need a healer," she glared. "Leave me be."

He grasped the covers a second time and threw them back again, this time all the way to end of the bed so she couldn't reach for them. He then hauled her up roughly by the arm, forcing her into a sitting position.

"Cissy, this is embarrassing enough. He has put aside several appointments just to see you, and kindly agreed to come here himself so we won't be seen entering his establishment."

"What do you mean?" Narcissa frowned. "What is embarrassing about seeing a healer? I always go with Draco when he is unwell."

"Not that kind of healer, you silly woman. A healer for afflictions of the mind."

Narcissa pulled her arm away, deeply indignant. "I don't need to see anyone! I won't see him!"

"You will do as I say, Narcissa," Lucius grabbed her again and shook her slightly. "I'm paying good money for this. Do you think I'd do that if I didn't love you?"

"You don't love me," Narcissa burst out, "You've never loved me. Leave me alone."

Lucius stared at her for a long moment and Narcissa began to cry. He released her and stood up, straightening out his black suit jacket. "Make yourself decent. He will be here in half an hour."

The most Narcissa could manage in way of dressing was to throw a thick velvet dressing gown on; she tidied her hair and face, but it was evident she looked exhausted; her eyes were dark and red-rimmed, and her hair was not done up in one of its elaborate styles, but instead fell loosely over her shoulders. She sat in her armchair by the fireplace, picking up her knitting, putting it down again, then picking up several books she had started and abandoned. She thought of Eira again and felt a dull ache in her heart, fearing their last argument had destroyed everything between them.

The healer who came to see Narcissa was an elderly wizard with kind eyes. He was slightly stooped with age and had wispy grey hair and a long beard. As Lucius led him to the room where Narcissa waited, he smiled warmly at Narcissa and at once attempted to make her feel at ease.

"Mrs Malfoy, it is a pleasure to meet you. I am so sorry to hear you have been feeling unwell though," he came forward to sit in the chair opposite.

"Would-would you like some tea?" Narcissa offered politely out of habit. Her voice was quiet and soft.

"Tea would be most welcome, thank you," he smiled and nodded. Lucius called Dobby, who appeared in an instant and disappeared just as quickly after receiving his orders to prepare tea.

"May I stay in the room?" Lucius asked, "I am deeply worried about my wife."

"Mrs Malfoy, would you like your husband to stay? He may be of some comfort to you."

Narcissa felt unable to reject her husband's request and simply nodded, keeping her eyes down as Lucius joined them. She could feel his eyes on her as they all settled and fussed with the tea Dobby brought some moment later.

"Now then," said the healer, taking out a roll of parchment and a quill. "Tell me what's going on, Mrs Malfoy."

Narcissa felt unable or unwilling to speak. She stared blankly at her cup of tea, her eyes stinging with hot tears she was trying to hold back; she felt cornered and vulnerable all of a sudden.

"She sleeps all day and eats little," Lucius said when Narcissa did not answer. "And is prone to fits of hysterics."

"Your son has just started Hogwarts, is that right?" the healer asked them both.

"Yes," Lucius replied, "He's very much enjoying his studies and is doing very well. He writes frequently to tell us."

"Mrs Malfoy, how do you feel about your son being away at Hogwarts?"

Narcissa gripped her cup. She raised her eyes briefly and wiped at the tears spilling onto her cheeks. "I am very proud of him."

"You must miss him very much."

"As naturally as any mother misses their child."

"Do you worry about him frequently?"

"Of course, I do," Narcissa said abruptly, "All mothers worry about their children."

She watched with annoyance as he began to scribble something down on the parchment. She suddenly wanted nothing more than for this to end.

"Do you have a large social group?" he then asked.

"No," she sipped her tea impatiently.

"No ladies groups you attend or host?"

"No."

"She used to," Lucius put in. "She hosted tea parties every month and visited other worthy ladies around the area."

"They are insipid, dull women," Narcissa said snidely.

"Cissy," Lucius frowned, touching her hand, which Narcissa promptly withdrew. This action did not go unnoticed by their observer, who continued to scratch away with his quill.

"Mr Malfoy, you mentioned she is prone to hysterics?"

"Yes," Lucius replied keenly. "She is set off by the smallest things."

"Can you give an example?"

"I tried to encourage her to take a walk in the gardens, to see the peacock for instance, as I thought that would cheer her up. She refused, threw herself upon that sofa over there, and sobbed for a good hour."

"I don't care about that stupid bloody peacock," Narcissa snapped, her annoyance rising as she listened to these two men talk about her as though she wasn't there. "It wakes me up every morning, I can't stand it."

Lucius gave the healer a meaningful look, who merely nodded and continued to write.

Narcissa looked at him, scowling. "What are you writing?"

"Mrs Malfoy," he replied, ignoring her question, "I heard you briefly had a Muggle girl staying with you. What was your relationship like with her?"

Lucius sat forward slightly, his keen eyes watching Narcissa's expression. She was evidently not indifferent to this question.

"We were very close."

"Really?" the healer looked and sounded rather surprised. In spite of Lucius's intentions to remove the Malfoy's association with the Dark Lord, it was no secret that the Malfoys were proud purebloods who would do no more than tolerate a Muggle.

"Yes, we were fond of one another."

"How do you feel now she has gone to live elsewhere?"

"I miss her," Narcissa answered truthfully. "I miss her very much."

"Do you feel you would be happier if she were still here?"

"Yes," Narcissa answered without hesitation.

Lucius stared at his wife with narrowed eyes, observing how her cheeks had suddenly risen in colour and how she fidgeted. Though he had suspected close affection between them for a long time, he now realised it as fact and for the first time, it occurred to him with deep certainty that it may have been more than a close female friendship. Narcissa was unable to look either of them in the eye.

"I don't think their relationship is healthy," Lucius interjected at once. "I feel it is that Muggle girl who has caused all this trouble."

"How do you mean, Mr Malfoy?" the healer looked at him with interest.

"I mean that my wife was happy until she came along."

"I think that all Mrs Malfoy needs is a friend," the healer said, taking off his round spectacles. "A real friend with whom she finds understanding."

"I don't understand why she is unable to find that with me, her husband," Lucius frowned.

"Women need other women. The fact is, Mr Malfoy, is that we men may never truly understand women," he laughed heartily, "Even I, who has studied the mind for many years, cannot hope to truly understand women. You must allow your wife her small freedoms. With your son away at Hogwarts, she has little way of showing her affection the way she used to. Perhaps you can arrange for the girl to visit every week?"

"I want her to stay here like before," Narcissa murmured.

"That will be up to her," the healer replied, "But if Mr Malfoy is agreeable to the arrangement, I think it would be most beneficial to invite the girl back. Living with that werewolf must be a ghastly business, especially with a baby on the way. I quite agree she is better off here."

Narcissa now lifted her eyes to look at her husband, imploring him to assent. He studied her face for a moment, considering. At that very moment, there was a tapping on the bedroom window and Narcissa jumped up, knocking her teacup over. Her snowy owl was tapping the glass with its beak; as Narcissa opened the window, it stretched its leg out, from which she untied a piece of parchment and hurriedly unfurled to read. Her eyes worked quickly, and then she suddenly covered her mouth and let out a cry of horror, collapsing on the chaise lounge.

"Cissy?" Lucius rushed to her side, "What is it?"

"Her baby…" she pushed the parchment under his nose to read. It was from Eira herself, who had simply written:

Cissy,

I cannot stay here. I've lost my baby and I need you more than ever. Please come back.

Eira

Though Lucius was aware that Walburga had made attempts to murder her unborn grandchild, this piece of news shocked him. He read the note several times over and then embraced and kissed his wife, who was now deeply distressed and sobbing. The healer watched on with interest.

"We'll bring Eira back, Cissy," Lucius murmured as he rubbed her back soothingly. He knew this news had tipped her over the edge. "If that is what you want. We will bring her back and all will be as it was."

As he felt Narcissa's grip around his shoulders tighten, he felt he had taken the right steps to repairing her trust in him. The healer took his leave and left the two of them alone. Lucius held his wife closely, perplexed and a little disgusted at the absurdity of her behaviour, but relishing in it all the same; with Eira restored at her side, he knew he had the upper hand; he would have them both where he wanted and could plan accordingly to get rid of Eira for good.