Redemption

51

Pain. 

It had sent me into a dark, restless sleep. 

It had also just as unceremoniously woken me. 

Both physical and emotional. I was a wreck.

My eyelids fluttered open, Minerva standing over me, a cloth pressed to my forehead, mopping away the blood. My arm was bandaged, my chest and abdomen as well, magic having healed the smaller cuts.

Poppy's head popped up from behind my swollen tummy. "Oh good, dearie, you're awake." She fluttered about, helping me sit up. "I have to induce labour... The baby might be injured. The trauma to your abdomen may have pierced the sac, though I can't say for certain."

I frowned, squeezing my eyes shut. "Wait, what?"

The mediwitch swallowed thickly. "You have to give birth, now."

My eyes widened as I understood the gravity of the situation. "What? The baby isn't due for at least another three months! He'll never survive it." Her grim expression told me everything I needed to know. "He may not survive it... He won't... will he?"

Minerva held a hanky to her face, dabbing away her tears. She hadn't known how far along I was, though she had had her suspicions. "Are you ready?" She asked.

I swallowed roughly, my throat clogged with emotion. "Wait, what of Ella? What's become of her? And Severus, where is he?"

The healer pushed me down by the shoulders gently, preparing herself by the foot of the bed. "Ella was taken away by the authorities minutes ago, she is in the hands of the Aurors now. Severus is resting in his rooms, he didn't wish to be coddled or seen. He suffered a nasty wound to the knee... I'm afraid I cannot fix it myself. It will take time, and complicated magic. The same could be said for your arm, Miss Granger." She sighed, having me spread my legs. "First a fracture, now a stabbing... It would be a wonder if you ever have use of it again."

A sharp pain shot up from my lower regions. "Oh gods, Poppy, what on earth are you doing?"

It felt as though she was slowly tearing me in two. Her eyebrows were creased in concentration, Minerva gripping my hand tightly in hers. "Artificial rupture of the membrane and expanding of the cervix. You're in for a rough night, this is just the beginning."

After what seemed like an eternity of stretching, pinching, tearing, and crying out in pain, I was told to start pushing. Reluctant to be born 13 weeks premature, as one should be, it took another several hours just to have the baby come out completely. The nurse immediately ran her diagnostic spells, placing him in my arms as soon as she was done. 

He was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. He was so very small. Tiny wisps of dark hair sprouting from the top of his head. He was an absolute mess of blood and amniotic fluid, though I couldn't have cared less in that moment. All the pain, all the sweat and tears, he was worth it. All of the warnings from earlier vanished from my mind as I held him close to my heart. My son. My son. 

Hearing the clearing of a throat, I unwillingly tore my gaze from my baby's face. His eyes closed lightly, clutching to me with all his might. The look on Poppy's face sent my heart plummeting through the bottom of my stomach. I felt sick. Whatever she was going to say was not going to be good. Not at all. 

I couldn't help the sob that escaped me. "What is it? What's wrong with him?"

The older witch took a deep breath, steadying herself. Her eyes glassy with tears, allowing them to slide down her face. "He has what the muggles call neonatal respiratory distress syndrome." She managed. "His lungs aren't fully developed... We haven't the technology in the wizarding world to save him. It is too late to have you transported to a Muggle hospital." Her words were interrupted by a violent hiccough as she wiped her face with her sleeve, her robes covered in bodily fluids of all sorts.