Chapter Seven: Trailhead

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"Harry!"

His eyelids flickered, pushing against the immense weight bearing down on them. Too heavy to open. He gasped, searching for breath in a bottomless sea as his head throbbed painfully.

"Harry, wake up!"

He felt a sharp sting of impact on his cheek, its echo mixing with the already present pain in his head and pulling him slightly out of the dark. The sea was receding, melting into a forgotten dreamscape.

He blinked, forcing his eyes open through the heaviness, and gleaning a blurry glimpse of a concerned, familiar face. A flash of red.Ron.He blinked again, until Ron came into focus.

"You all right, mate?"

"I—" Harry mumbled. "What… Ella?"

"She's fine," Ron said quickly. "She wasn't here."

"But I saw her…" His mind was foggy, slowly sorting through the pieces. He glanced around, trying to make sense of his surroundings. Rookwood's decrepit house leered back at him. "What happened?"

"It was a boggart," Ron said, still leaning over him with an air of concern. "A powerful one — full-on level five: visual, auditory... the whole package. I tried to push it back, but it had you. It took me a while to break through its defenses, but — er — it's gone."

"I see." Harry felt shame rise up within him. He had not fallen to a boggart since he was thirteen, awakening to a hoard of chocolate and Professor Lupin's encouragement. He would give anything for a slab of that chocolate now, if only to distract Ron with it. "Did you… see her?"

"Yeah," Ron said softly.

"Oh." Harry didn't know what to say; how he could possibly explain. He raised himself slowly to a sitting position, staring at his hands in silence.

"Do you… want to talk about it?" Ron asked, a bit awkwardly.

"I…" Harry muttered. And then he realized how pointless the whole venture was because he had already opened his big mouth and told Ron everything when Ella had asked him,had asked himnot to — and now hiding this from Ron was like trying to outrun time. The truth inevitable. "We lost the baby," he added, his voice a broken whisper. He stared at his hands, avoiding Ron's eyes.

"Blimey," Ron said, after a painful silence. "Harry, mate, I'm so sorry."

Harry nodded, not trusting himself to speak, and Ron reached down and clenched his shoulder in silence. He didn't ask anything else, and for that, Harry was grateful. For the rest of it, he didn't know how to find the words.

Harry wasn't sure how long he sat there, as the throbbing headache gradually diminished, before he heard the unmistakable sound of footsteps outside the house.

"Robards," Ron said, glancing around as Harry started. "I sent him the Patronus right before the boggart appeared. He'll have sent a team."

He held out a hand to Harry and pulled him to his feet. With a sigh, Harry turned to face the door. The sooner they sorted this out, the sooner he would get home. To Ella.

Which he didn't manage to do until several more hours had passed, which was how long it took for them to comb through Rookwood's house, break through the additional enchantments they uncovered, and sequester various suspicious items into evidence.

The lights were off when he finally Apparated into the entry nook, and it took several moments before Snowy stepped out to greet him. He found Ella in the bedroom, curled up beneath the covers in the dark, her even breathing betraying the patterns of sleep. She didn't react when he finally collapsed onto the bed beside her, and he placed his head gently against her shoulder, feeling the steady rhythm of her heart pulsing against his cheek. And only then, did he feel the relief wash through him. Only then, did he bite down painfully on his lip to stop the spread of tears. He lay beside her in the darkness, taking deep, even breaths until he lost count of the time. Until she slowly shifted her hand and clasped it around his own. And only then, with his arms around her, did he sleep.


The waiting room of the St. Mungo's Maternal Fetal Care Centre was torturous. Ella tapped her foot against the chair beside her in nervous agitation as she stared down at her hands, avoiding eye contact with the other inhabitants of the room. Every time she glanced up, her eyes seemed to immediately land on one witch or another in some advanced stages of pregnancy. She had never before realized how many pregnant women there were, and today it seemed that all of them were sitting in this room.

She took a deep breath, snuck a glance at Harry, who was watching her, and looked back down at her hands. He reached over and squeezed her fingers.

"Ella."

She snapped her head up, her eyes landing on Hannah Abbott, who was standing before the door that led to the inner office. Hannah gave them a warm smile and motioned them forward. Ella stood abruptly, walking towards Hannah so briskly, she nearly tripped over her feet. Harry hurried to catch up, reaching for her hand again. She let him, trying to calm her racing heart.

"So, you're pregnant!" Hannah said, smiling at both of them once the door to her exam room had closed.

Ella sighed. She sincerely hoped, as she placed a hand on Harry's arm to shush him and opened her mouth to tell Hannah the entire story, that this would be the last time she had to avoid the glancing blow of those words.

When she finished speaking, the room was swathed in silence. She could feel it pressing down on her, and wondered how it could be... that air could weigh so much.

Finally, Hannah broke it.

"Oh, Ella, Harry, I'm so sorry." The smile had slid off her face, and she looked utterly dismayed. "I can't even imagine what you must have been through. How are you holding up?"

"It's — er — it's hard," Ella admitted. Harry nodded solemnly beside her. "The Muggle doctors explained it, and I've tried to read the brochures they gave us, but I still don't really… it's very confusing. The Muggle hospital wants us to come back for testing and monitoring, but…" She trailed off, looking hopefully at Hannah.

"Right," Hannah said, nodding for emphasis. "I understand." She reached for her wand. "Well, let's see what we can sort out, shall we? I'm going to draw some blood. Can you hold out your arm?"

"Sure," Ella said, rolling up the sleeve of her sweater. She felt a small kindling of hope spark in her chest. "You've heard of this… right?"

"I've heard of it," Hannah confirmed, tracing her wand along the crook of Ella's elbow.

Ella felt a brief pulse of cool air, followed by the tiniest sting of a magical needle. Hannah conjured a small phial and let it fill up entirely with blood before poking her wand at Ella's arm once more. The tiny cut vanished. Hannah carried the phial to a small beaker on her desk, which contained a pale green potion, and emptied it inside. Ella stared at the red swirls dancing amidst the green.

"Can you lay on the table for me?" Hannah asked.

Ella nodded, climbing on the table. "Do I need to take off anything?"

"No, that's all right. Just lift your shirt a bit."

Ella obliged, and Hannah flicked her wrist, sending her wand twirling into a complicated-looking pattern until a dome of soft purple light emanated from its tip. She brushed it carefully across Ella's abdomen, whose skin tingled at the touch. "When did the Muggle hospital perform the D ?"

"Friday night?" Ella said. "Or maybe it was Saturday morning? I'm not sure. It was pretty late…" She realized she was babbling and trailed off nervously.

"That's all right, that's close enough," Hannah said, her tone slightly distracted as she gazed into the purple dome of light, which seemed to be full of twisting shadows. Ella could make neither heads nor tails of them. "Are you still experiencing residual bleeding?"

"Uh huh," Ella said. "A bit."

"Nausea?"

"It's better," Ella said. "Definitely less than before."

"That's good." Hannah moved the wand higher, trailing it all the way up to Ella's neck.

"What are you doing, Hannah?" Harry asked, his eyes following the wand.

"Just some imaging." Hannah fell silent again, her eyes still trained on the dome of light.

"Have you seen a lot of… of molar pregnancies?" Ella asked, when she couldn't stand the silence any longer.

"You're my first," Hannah admitted, glancing up from the purple dome.

"Oh." The words settled in her stomach with dread.

"Molar pregnancies are rare," Hannah said, directing the dome over Ella's head. Ella blinked, snapping her eyes shut. "Even more so in witches than Muggles. But we did study them during training at the School of Magical Healing, and I also did four years of residency in Muggle obstetrics and gynecology as well, so I promise you I'm quite familiar with the condition."

"Oh," Ella said again, feeling slightly more positive about it this time. "And are they… curable?"

"Nearly always," Hannah said with a small smile.

"Oh…" Ella said quietly. "And do I… do Ihave one? They weren't sure, at the hospital. They just said they thought I might, and—"

"I'm afraid you do," Hannah said, glancing between both her and Harry. "There's only trace remains left in your uterus, but based on the imagining analysis, it looks like it was a complete molar pregnancy."

"Oh," Ella said, for what felt like the umpteenth time. She shifted her eyes, staring up at the ceiling, trying to shove back the unwelcome feelings that had floated to the surface again at Hannah's words.How many more times could this hurt?A hand squeezed her fingers, and she realized Harry must have gotten up and moved to stand beside her.

"You can go ahead and sit up," Hannah said kindly, and Ella felt the tingling coolness of the wand withdraw. She sat, letting her sweater fall back into place and locked eyes with Hannah, who had leaned against the opposite wall.

"What does that mean?" Harry said, breaking the silence. "Trace remains?"

"After a dilation and curettage — that's what the Muggles call the procedure — it's not uncommon for there to be trace remains in the uterus," Hannah said. "Usually the residual bleeding will clear everything out, so I'm not too concerned. But we can certainly speed up the process today."

"That sounds good," Ella said quickly. If there was anything remaining, she wanted it out of her as quickly as possible.

"All right," Hannah said with a nod. She sat down on a stool facing them and indicated that Harry should take a seat as well. He hopped up on the examination table beside Ella, which made her smile for just a second.

"First," Hannah said, when Harry had settled and they were both looking at her intently, "do you understand exactly what a molar pregnancy is?"

"Something about an empty egg getting fertilized," Ella offered.

"Exactly," Hannah said. "To put it simply, the egg and the sperm both contain their own sets of genetic information. In a successful pregnancy, an egg will be released during ovulation, meet a sperm, and then it will become an embryo, which will implant into the uterus, eventually becoming a fetus. In the case of a complete molar pregnancy the egg still meets a sperm and the process of fertilization occurs, but the egg has somehow lost its genetic information. We don't know why this happens. But when an empty egg is fertilized, it can't grow into a fetus. Instead it grows out of control, forming a mole, or a cluster of grape-like cysts in the uterus. They release an abnormally high amount of the pregnancy hormone — it's called HCG — which is the cause of the nausea. After removal of the mole, HCG levels generally drop back down, and that's the resolution for a molar pregnancy the majority of the time." She paused, considering them. "But you should be aware that itispossible for these cells to spread to other parts of the body via the bloodstream. And if this happens, and the cells start regrowing, in either the uterus or elsewhere, the HCG numbers would rise again. This is rare, but in this case, the mole would be considered persistent. This is why monitoring the numbers is important."

Ella nodded, her lips drawn together. Harry had draped an arm around her waist, and she leaned into him.

"So here's the situation," Hannah said. "When a molar pregnancy happens in a witch, we can detect it right away at the initial checkup. We can also remove it right away, and use the genetic signature of those cells to target and remove any outliers that may have broken off. The method is 100 percent effective."

"So — so you can remove it?" Ella said, brightening. "I mean, they already removed it, but you can just magically vanish everything that might be left, right?"

"Well," Hannah said, frowning slightly, "in your case, I'm afraid it may be a bit more complicated."

"What do you mean?" Ella breathed.

Hannah sighed. "The problem, Ella, is that I can't remove it. Because the Muggle hospital's already removed it."

"Right," Ella said. "But you can just double check that it's all gone… can't you?"

"It doesn't work that way, unfortunately," Hannah said. "Because the D 's already been done, the mole no longer has discernable edges. Your uterus is filled with blood and traces of tissue, and while we can remove that, there isn't enough tissue there to create a signature to bind to the rest. And I can't tell if there are any cells that may have traveled outside the uterus. According to the imaging, all your organs are currently clear, so—"

"So that's good, right?" Harry interrupted. "It hasn't spread."

"Not that I can detect," Hannah said. "So yes, that's very good. But that said, I'm afraid at the moment, all we can do is wait."

"Wait?" Ella repeated, the word sticking painfully in her throat. In the last two days, she had already come to learn how painful waiting could be. How much the simple act of standing still, of waiting for an answer, could take away from you.

Shehatedwaiting.

"Yes," Hannah said. "Wait, and monitor your numbers, and we'll go from there."

"But that's… that's what the Muggle doctor said," Ella said weakly, grasping at straws now. "Isn't there something, some magical solution…?"

"Ella," Hannah said kindly, "the D you've had is the most effective form of Muggle treatment for a molar pregnancy. HCG levels usually drop back down to negative on their own afterwards, and most Muggles don't need any additional treatment."

"But…but what if I do?"she managed, looking anywhere but at Hannah and Harry.

"Then we'll cross that bridge when we get to it," Hannah said. "But let's not worry about it quite right now. And your numbers" — she turned around, jabbing her wand at the beaker, which had settled into a dull yellow and was emitting golden sparks — "are good. Down to 150,000 already." Hannah smiled.

"But that's still so high!" Ella said, aghast.

"It's only been a couple days since you've had the procedure," Hannah said. "It takes a while for the hormone to leave your system. This is actually a remarkable drop, Ella. I want you to come back on Wednesday so we can test again. We're going to stay completely on top of this… all right?"

"All right," Ella mumbled, her eyes downcast as Harry squeezed his arm tighter around her. "And about… about trying again?" she added in a small voice. "The Muggle hospital said we can't for six to twelve months… after the levels drop to less than five..."

Hannah paused. "Let's get you down to negative first," she said, "and then we'll discuss it."

Ella had never felt so defeated. Not even at Shadow Hogwarts, trapped within Voldemort's grasp.

Action, after all, was so much easier than this paralyzing stillness. Thiswaiting. This enemy — the betrayal of her own body — that she had no idea how to fight.


Wednesday dawned bright and cold. In the afternoon, Ella sat in the waiting room alone, fiddling with the hem of her black dress until Hannah called her in.

It was only the second time Hannah was drawing her blood, and already she had come to hate the prick of the needle, little though it hurt. The anticipation, of sitting, waiting, of watching the blood well up in the phial. The menacing artful swirls of the potion in the beaker as it slowly shifted to yellow before her eyes. Like paint thrown into water. Except paint had never held her life in its claws.

She took a deep breath, hiding her anxiety away as best she could.

"Down to 85,000!" Hannah said, smiling. "That's great."

She breathed again. Hoped this relief would be less fleeting than the one before.

"I want you to come back Friday," Hannah said, directing her quill to enter Ella's latest numbers into her file. "Morning or afternoon?"

"Morning," Ella said. "I teach an afternoon class at the Magical Institute."

"Ah yes, of course," Hannah said. "See you Friday morning then." She nodded at Ella's clothes. "Are you heading to the memorial?"

Ella nodded silently.

"It's horrible," Hannah said, sighing. "I've been looking in on Robert, he seems to be doing a bit better. Have they released him?"

"They are today. I'm meeting him after this, actually."

"That's good," Hannah said. "I can't imagine how he's feeling. I'm so glad he has all of you." She sighed heavily again. "We lost so many good people. They still haven't arrested anyone?"

"No," Ella said. "I believe they've been looking into several… people, but I'm not supposed to talk about it. Harry's been working nearly non-stop since we came back from Muggle London though, trying to sort it out." She sighed inwardly, stopping herself before she allowed her mind to wander down the dark path of trying to fill those Harry-free hours. She had never particularly enjoyed being alone, but recently, she had come to absolutely dread the company of her own thoughts.

Hannah briefly clasped her hand, pulling her back to reality. "They'll catch them soon enough," she said softly.

"I hope you're right."

She bid Hannah goodbye and made her way to the Nugent Potts Ward, where Robert was waiting, temporarily stashing her own hurt and pain away.

She found Robert sitting on his bed, absently fastening the cuffs of his black dress robes. She paused in the doorway, gazing at him. However she hurt, she knew her pain was nothing compared to his.

"Hey, stranger," she said. "Ready to go?"

He glanced up, the blue of his eyes rimmed slightly with red, and gave a curt nod. She walked over to him, slipped her hand into his, and led him out into the rest of his life.