It always surprises me just how many people I have met in my lifetime that are no longer amongst the living. Further more, how many of them have given me so much, while I could not fulfill their one request - to live. Though nobody trusted themselves to actually request it verbally, it showed in the eyes of all who entered, whether they were patients themselves, or close to one who lied there.
Only one person requested life. And he did not request to live a full lifetime. He just asked me to give him two more months.
His name was Alexander Enala. He was twenty-two years old, and his newly wedded bride, Roxanne, was seven months pregnant.
It's ironic, how the people who help you more than any are the ones you end up disappointing the most. My parents, who would never know that their daughter was happily married and pregnant. They would always think of me as the witch who did well at school, and had no social contact with anyone. Orrielle, for another. Though she'd told me that she was proud to have been my best friend, before she left this earth, it always nagged me. I could have done something more for her.
James, my sweet gentle lover, I hope I never disappointed him.
I failed Harry Duncan, who had wanted to live for his family, and who taught me that not all is lost with death. And Alex, oh Alex, what would I be doing now if you had not come?
The emotion that characterizes the Terminal Ward is the broken spirit. Most people who end up there have no willpower left, and most Healers have no happiness left. I shudder at the thought that without my darling James, I would be like them. And though once in a while someone might end up in the Ward with a whole spirit, rarely did they have as broken a body as Alexander Enala did.
Two months before he came, he had been diagnosed with SarMonia. Only a month and a half later, once the disease had spread to the rest of his chest and arms, and even down to his stomach did the Healers realize they were not dealing with a sickness known to the Wizarding Community, for which a cure was known. So Alex was sent down to us.
I was not there the day Alexander and Roxanne first set foot in the Ward. I had been at an Order meeting, and later James had taken me out to dinner, in order to try and get me over my dreariness that had set in two months prior to then, when Harry Duncan had passed away, and hormones kicked in.
The next day, when I arrived at the Ward, I was handed a chart that the nurse had handled as if it were a disease in itself. When I saw Alexander Enala marked off across the top, I knew why. We had all heard of the unknown disease.
I walked to the room that he was residing in. Just as I was about to knock I stopped. This was Harry's room. He would have been eighteen on that very day. I closed my eyes, fought away the tightness of my chest and the threatening tears. Then I knocked. "Come in," came a voice from the other side of the door.
As I walked in I observed the room. By the bed sat a clearly pregnant woman who looked at me sceptically. When I saw the person on the bed I nearly gasped. Rarely did my patients look like they were at the doorstep of death this soon in their hospitalisation, if ever. Alex did.
I forced my face to form a smile. "Hi," I greeted them. "I am Healer Lily Potter."
"Hello Mrs. Potter," he excused his use of my ranking as a wife with a look at my bulging stomach. "I am Alexander Enala, though you probably already know that." Though his last sentence sounded like a drawl, the smile that split his face told me that he was teasing me. I began liking this man immediately. My smile became more sincere.
“My name is Lily, not ‘Mrs. Potter’, no matter how proud I am of being a Potter.” I patted my bulging stomach.
“Then he is Alex, and I am Roxanne,” said the woman sitting by the bed. She smiled at me.
“Hello Roxanne. How do you like the accommodations?” I asked them both. I turned to Alex. “And how are you feeling?”
“Better than before,” Alex replied.
“Very diplomatic,” I commented with a twisted smile.
“I am actually being honest,” Alex retorted. “The beds are more comfortable.” He snuggled into the covers to emphasize his point. I had to stifle a giggle. “As for the flowered wallpaper -“
“I like the wallpaper.” Roxanne stated, as if that settled the matter.
“My wife likes flowers?” Alex asked, mock-appalled. “Then I guess I must like them too. Last thing I need is to get into an argument with my dear seventh-month pregnant wife with excess hormones running through her body.” Roxanne pouted at him, and he leaned over and kissed her on the lips. She smiled and shoed him back into his bed.
“Now you sound like my James. Only with him it’s ‘his five-month pregnant wife with premature cravings’.” Roxanne grinned at my comment.
“Men,” she mouthed to me and rolled her eyes. I grinned at her and she returned the favour. Suddenly her face went blank. “I have to go,” she said, and rushed out of the room. I had a feeling I knew what kind of ‘go’ she meant. I turned back to my patient.
“So, Alex, what do you do for a living?” I asked him.
“I study ancient spells,” Alex replied.
“Oh? Really? What type of spells?”
“Well, the latest one I re-discovered is a spell that “ well, if you perform the spell, and then give up your life for someone else, the other person becomes immune to death at the hands of the person who killed you. Moreover, it gives the chosen person the power to kill “ or not quite kill, I am not quite sure, the person that kills you, without even having to cast a spell, just by letting the second person send a curse at him.”
“That’s amazing!” I exclaimed.
“Thanks,” he replied. “But it isn’t exactly the handiest spell in the world.” He sighed, and his face looked wistful. Then his face went serious. “Lily, I have to ask a favour of you, and I would like to request it whilst Roxanne is not present.”
“Sure, anything,” I agreed, brows furrowed.
“I-oh…” He took a deep breath, “I need to live to see this baby. I need to see my child. Just two months. Please give me two more months amongst the living. Then I will be willing to move on, as my body obviously wants.” His request caught me by surprise. It was a request no one dared voice.
“I’ll try. I’ll do my best,” I replied, gaining control over my emotions.
“Thank you,” he told me, voice thick with feeling. He took my hand in his. “That’s all I can ask for.” He released my hand and lay back onto his pillow. I saw a flash of pain leap across his face and summoned a vile of potion. It arrived in the room along with Roxanne.
“This potion will make you drowsy, but it will take away the pain,” I warned them both as I handed it to Alex in a cup. They both nodded and Alex drained the juice. “I need to go see to some other patients now, but I'll see you both later,” I stated, nodded my farewell and left. I went to a bench on the side and sorted through my emotions over Alex’s request. It took a few deep breaths and quite a few blinks before I was free of all symptoms of sadness. I silently cursed the hormones lying about in my blood stream, and went to work.
For the following month and a half I treated Alex as best as I could. Every night as I came home into James’ warm embrace I would sob into his chest and tell him of my daily attempts at saving Alex, and of his latest jokes on life. Though they may lighten the mood in the room, at the second they were told, they made me ache more when I reached home. I knew, I just knew that chances of him seeing his offspring were slim, that he may die any day. James would hold me through it all, and would comfort me by planting his lips in all the right places, and by holding me so tightly it was hard to breathe. I knew he was thinking the same as I was. Don’t let me lose you. Oh Merlin don’t let me lose you.
One afternoon I was sitting around with Roxanne, waiting for Alex to wake up after his latest bout of medication, when the door burst open.
At the entrance stood James. I jumped up into his arms and kissed him. He responded slowly. I pulled away and noticed for the first time he was pale and his face was cold.
“James, what’s wrong?” I asked him. I was worried. My James was never worried. He was easy going, he was my steady wall. He was what I leant on. Sturdy walls don't get worried and distracted to that extent.
“Dumbledore asked to speak with us. He- even he looked worried. Not worried, even. Troubled.” His brows furrowed. I could see something close to fear on my husband’s face. That scared me. My James? Scared?
I turned to Roxanne. “Uh, Roxanne, this is my husband, James. I have a feeling I need to go.” I reached into my pocket as Roxanne nodded to James. “Take this. Shoot a heating spell at it if anything happens to Alex, okay?” she nodded. I pulled James out of the room. “How are we getting to Hogwarts?” I asked him once out in the hallway. He pulled a silvery tool out of his cloak. “Then we had better get out of here,” I stated. We rushed out of the Ward. It would not be a good idea to se a Portkey in the middle of the Terminal Ward.
As we reached the entrance to the hospital James turned to me. “Sorry for being insensitive before,” he stated as he pulled me up into his arms an kissed me soundly, though he was still pale. I grabbed hold of the silvery tool, and we split apart reluctantly as we felt the jerk of motion. I smiled at his pale face reassuringly and the situation was so alien to us, and so reversed that it startled a laugh from us both.
But then we were thrown into Dumbledore's office. The tension in the air was evident, and the smiles were wiped right off our faces. Dumbledore sat behind his desk and in front of it sat Frank and Alice Longbottom, acquaintances of ours. Alice looked at the same stage of her pregnancy as I was. James and I nodded greetings to them, and they to us, then we turned to Dumbledore.
"Good, you're here," Dumbledore said. He sounded almost impatient, which showed me just how urgent he thought this was. "Please, have a seat." He pointed at the two empty chairs. James and I took the offered seats hesitantly. We looked at Dumbledore expectantly. Instead of speaking he walked to the black cabinet that stood beside Fawks's perch. He brought forth a pensive and placed it on the table.
"The Prophecy you are about to hear must stay within these four walls. The closest of your friends will know the general details. But the precise meaning is for your own ears alone. Am I clear?" We all nodded. Dumbledore stuck his wand into the pensive. He pulled forth a memory of a frail woman. She began speaking in a harsh, hoarse voice.
"THE ONES WITH THE POWER TO VANQUISH THE DARK LORD APPROACHES…BORN TO THOSE WHO HAVE THRICE DEFIED HIM, BORN AS THE SEVENTH MONTH DIES…AND THE DARK ORD WILL MARK HIM AS AN EQUAL, BUT HE WILL HAVE POWER THE DARK LORD KNOWS NOT…AND EITHER MUST DIE AT THE HAND OF THE OTHER FOR NEITHER CAN LIVE WHILE THE OTHER SURVIVES… THE ONE WITH THE POWER TO VANQUISH THE DARK LORD WILL BE BORN AS THE SEVENTH MONTH DIES…"
The slowly revolving woman sank back into the silver mass below and vanished.
For a few minutes after she had disappeared we all sat I silence. Finally, Dumbledore spoke. "I believe each of you has faced Voldemort three times by this point." We all nodded mechanically. "And both you ladies are due at the end of July, am I correct?" We were nodding before he even finished the sentence. "Then you all know what this prophecy means. One of your two children will have the power to vanquish Voldemort." As my hand flew to my stomach, I saw Alice do the same from the corner of my eyes. There were tears going down he cheeks. "You must be ready to protect your child at all cost. That is all the advice I can give you at the present-"
"Ow!" I yelped and pulled the metal rod out of my pocket. "I have to get back the hospital, Pr-" Dumbledore was already handing me a silvery tool. I nodded my appreciation, kissed James on the cheek and was pulled back to the Ward.
I rushed into Alex's room. He was having coughing spasms, and blood was immerging from his throat. I immediately summoned a potion that would calm his lungs as flashes of the past bring me to the verge of tears. I raked a deep breath and wait for the coughing to calm enough for me to give him the potion. "When did he first start coughing?" I asked Roxanne.
"Just now, when she called you," Alex replied in a hoarse whisper.
"You really shouldn't talk," I chastised him.
"Like that’s going to stop me," he replied with a raised eyebrow.
"He's helpless!" exclaimed Roxanne. "And so is my bladder!" She went off anxiously in search of a toilet.
As she left an idea sparked into my mind. It might help him get his mind off his weakness, I thought.
"Alex, I have a favour to ask of you." I took a deep breath. "Would you teach me the spell you discovered?"
"Why?" His eyes were alarmed. "What would you need it for?"
"I just got some…troubling news. There is somebody I need to protect. I think it will come to my saving him. Even at the cost of my life. I want to make sure that if I die, it means he “ or she “ will live."
"I understand. This has something to do with the war, doesn't it?"
"Yes. But that is all I can say, I'm sorry."
"It's understandable. If Albus Dumbledore was the one to notify you, I know it is important. I remember him very well from when he was my Headmaster." He chuckled.
"That's why you looked so familiar!" I exclaimed with a chuckle. "You were two years above me in school!"
"Yes, it must be. Tell me “ your husband, James. Was he part of the group called The Marauders?"
"Yes," I grinned. "He was indeed."
"Those pranks always did make me laugh," he commented, his eyes showing that he was immersed in memory. "I'll teach you the spell," he said abruptly.
A weight fell off my shoulders, only to be replaced by a new one. Learning this spell would mean knowing I would have to give my life for someone else. And maybe, in this case, for the lives of many, many people. "Thank you," I said with genuine gratitude.
"You're welcome. Just one thing “ I would rather that lessons took place without Roxanne being present. She “ she never really liked my dealing with a death magic. It frightened her that I would use it."
"That's fine." And then you would be entertained all the time, and won't have time for any thoughts about weakness.
"Then let’s begin," he seemed eager to be teaching someone. "Here is the first sentence." He took a deep breath, and recited in a low voice, his eyes closed. "Teheni Shmati Korb analefane ichamel echel ramven isa." The room turned cold as the beginning of old magic took place. Chills went crawling down my back. He opened his eyes.
I repeated the sentence, and then wrote it down on a notepad I had in my cloak pocket. Roxanne walked in, looking relieved. "Rest now," I ordered Alex. "I will be back later to check up on you." I smiled at Roxanne and walked out.
Over the following two weeks, Alex drilled me over and over on the spell, until I had mastered the finer points of the motion. The lessons became more and more frequent as Roxanne's pregnancy progressed. I can still remember the look of pride in Alex's eyes when I mastered the spell. I remember how happy I was, but how much more real the threat to my unborn child felt that day.
The next day, as I was doing my rounds, inspecting all my various patients, a sound I had hoped would never come reached my ears.
Roxanne's scream pierced the air. I hurriedly apologized to the old man I was inspecting and ran in the direction of Alex's room. I remember how tight my chest was, and how much I wanted it to just be Roxanne going into labour.
I reached the room, and Roxanne was on her knees. "What happened?" I remember begging Merlin that it was labour. Begging like I had never begged before in my life.
"We “ we were just talking. We were discussing names, for the child. And “ and he just stopped talking in the middle of the sentence. He's not breathing!" Tears were streaming down her cheeks. She knew what that meant.
I had already checked, for I knew what it would be. His breathing had indeed stopped, as had his heart. I sent a reviving charm at him, but I knew it was useless. His heart was too weak to begin its function again, his lungs even more so. I ground my teeth against tears as I turned to Roxanne. She saw it in my eyes nonetheless.
"No!" she yelled, her sobs increasing by the second as she clung to his hand in desperation. "Please, Alex, come back," she begged, her words quieter this time, hacked short by the sobs. "Please, no." The last words were hardly more than whispers, as if her voice was leaving together with her husband's soul. She brought his hand up to her cheek and held it there, pressing it hard against her tears, as if wishing he would wipe them away with his own strength.
I walked over to her and gently put my hands around her. "I'm sorry," I whispered. "I tried. I'm so sorry." A single tear escaped my eye.
Suddenly Roxanne balked. I looked down at her worriedly. "Wha-" I began. But she cut me off by pointing at a puddle that had formed on the floor. Her water had broken.
As I Summoned a chair to float her down to the Delivery Ward she grabbed my arm. "Come with me," she begged. I nodded and ran her down to a delivery room.
After two hard hours of labour, Roxanne gave birth to a beautiful baby girl. "I want you to be her godmother," she announced. "I'm going to name her Annemarie Alexandra, because he wanted her to be Annmarie," she burst out in tears. "And I want her to be like him. There are people who say that the souls of the dead are reborn in the bodies of those who are born in close proximity to the death. I hope so. I'm going to miss him so much." She choked on her last words, and she buried her face into the blanket that wrapped in infant in her hands.
Time has passed. I now chant the spell that is the last legacy of knowledge laid down by Alexander Enala, as I run up the stairs, for my son's life, if not my own.
"Teheni Shmati Korb analefane ichamel echel ramven isa. Altite nalicha yotbe moto'al titenlim avetshav. Teheni shmati ztrurabi m'komo."
I slam the door shut as I repeat the words again, my hands moving hurriedly after my son is safely in his crib. I made the final gesture, and the door burst open, admitting the Dark Lord, Lord Voldemort. As I cursed him silently, called for him to give me back my husband, my mind raced. "Not Harry, not Harry, please not Harry!" I scream at him. The scream is genuine, and it is magical. It is the sealing of an ancient spell.
"Stand aside, you silly girl," the evil man orders. "Stand aside, now…"
"Not Harry, please no, take me, kill me instead-" the spell is nearly complete. I bite my lip hard in order not to think of the possibility of it not working, or of the thought of my husband, lying, lifeless-"Not Harry!" I scream, but what I mean is not James. "Have mercy…" What I mean is, have mercy on the memory of Harry Duncan. He never hurt you. He must be remembered. "Have mercy…" On all the world, on all the people you will kill if he does not live. "Not Harry! Not Harry! Please “ I'll do anything “" and the spell is in place. I close my eyes and think of James, think of what I want Harry to be, and know I will see my loved one soon. I will also be able to thank Alex, and beg for his forgiveness, that I saw his daughter while he did not. And I'd see Harry, and I'd be able to ask him how he felt about leaving this world, without having fulfilled his goal. And I'd see Orrielle, and I'd make up for all the time we'd lost. And I'd see my parents, who had never seen their grandchild.
"Stand aside. Stand aside, girl!" Voldemort demands again, but I do not take commands from evil. I meet his red eyes and tell him with them, that I will never, ever listen to a murderer. "Very well then," he snarls. He raises his wand. "Avada Kedavra!"
A flash of green light and it is all over.
A/N: Written in memory of my uncle Alex, a dear man, whose daughter was born two hours after his premature death. May he Rest in Peace.
Unreachable by guiding ray of sunlight
Chapter Notes: Anything recognizable belongs to Jo Rowling.
I'd like to thank Kiara (Oppungo) for going off her hiatus long enough to beta this for me! *huggles* Hope to see you around here more soon!