Curiousity Killed the Cat

It all made sense now. The curse had hit me in the stomach, hitting the baby rather than hitting me. The curse killed the baby instead of me.

My baby was dead.

The only hope I had left in this damned world, the only piece of Harry I had with me for those six long months. The only thing that was enough to keep me alive, to keep me going on with every day. My baby is gone.

Mrs. Weasley seemed to be the only one who knew what to do. I felt numb and alone, I didn’t even know what was happening half of the time. I remember they carried up, quickly, heading for the direction of the hospital wing. I didn’t care what they did, I only wanted one person near me and for all I know, he could be dead.

I could hear them talking but they seemed so far away, like I was miles and miles away from them. I was empty inside. The thought of my baby, dead inside of me, was enough to make me want to die, right then and there.

“We have to get the baby out!”

“How?”

“Get the nurse! Oh, it’ll be alright Elyse!”

Those voices, holding onto their empty promises. It wouldn’t be alright, none of it would. This baby was six months old. In three months I could have been a mother, Harry a father. Those dreams seemed so silly right now, all of hours spent on trying to find the perfect name. It was useless. It was a waste of time.

Yet it wasn’t a waste of time. Every moment of every day I spent thinking about that baby was worth it. Pregnancy was worth it, to feel the baby kicking every now and then. Talking to my stomach, thinking about what an idiot I’m sure I looked like.

“She shouldn’t feel a thing now. The medication should be taking effect now.”

The woman was right; whatever medicine they injected into me had caused my body to go numb, I couldn’t feel anything.

“You can’t just cut her up like that!”

“If this baby stays in her, it could get dangerous!”

“Are you sure she can’t feel anything?”

I wished I could find the strength to assure whoever it was that, even without the medicine, I could feel nothing. I couldn’t feel the nurse cut into my stomach, nor did I feel the blood trickle down my big stomach, the same one I cursed an hour ago.

Normally, you’d go though pain and hear a small cry, the baby that you had carried for nine months. I didn’t have that honor. I had to listen and listen and listen, hoping that it was a mistake and I would hear that cry.

I didn’t hear that cry.

“It was a girl…”

“She would have been beautiful.”

“I’m so sorry, Elyse.”

I want Harry. I need Harry.

Let him be okay, please let him be alive.

I can’t deal with losing him as well.