“I’d like to go back and sit with Lily now,” she said as she stood up. “I take it no one is going to object. She is my daughter after all.” She held out her hand to Harry. “Are you coming?”
Harry’s eyes were trained on the floor but he looked up at Ginny’s question. “Err, yeah. I’ll be along very soon. I... err... need to contact the office about something.” Ginny frowned. “And I’ll check with Ron that the boys are okay, all right.”
Harry stood up and pecked her on the cheek. She squeezed his arm and walked out the door, back to the ward. Harry did not follow but sat back down. There was a pause.
“You have something you wish to ask, Mr Potter?” asked Healer Pye.
“You asked about family history,” replied Harry. “My mum was Muggle-born but, as you know, she died very young, so I’m not sure if she was affected. I could ask my cousin “ he might know, I suppose.” He paused and began fiddling with his wand trying to clean an invisible speck of dirt from the end. “I-I-I think he may have this. I keep thinking about us when we were growing up. He was a big boy “I mean really big “ and he couldn’t run as fast as me. I thought it was funny at the time, but his breathing “ Merlin, he sounded like a warthog. B-but I can’t remember him taking medicines or anything.”
Augustus Pye leant back in his chair. “Many children grow out of this condition, Mr Potter. Some have one or two incidences as a baby and then nothing ever again ... or it recurs when they’re teenagers. Perhaps your cousin was one of them. Which of his parents is your blood relative? You might get more answers from them about your mother.”
“Dudley’s mum, my Aunt Petunia, was my blood relative,” Harry replied quietly. “But she died a few years ago.”
He’d been to see Petunia just before she’d died. Harry had watched as the woman who had once so rigidly controlled his life had lain in a hospital bed with a mask across her face. She was weak from recurring bouts of bronchitis, they said, and now it had developed into pneumonia. Vernon had held her hand and talked to her as she laid there. Harry had never seen his uncle look more lost. There was none of the bluster that Harry remembered and none of the fury that Vernon had directed at people like Dumbledore and Mad-Eye. He’d looked worried, sad and human.
“My Aunt died of pneumonia,” Harry said at last. “I didn’t want to say in front of Ginny, but it affects the lungs, doesn’t it?”
Healer Pye sighed. “Yes, I believe it does. How old was your aunt when she died?”
Harry closed his eyes as he tried to block out the image of Petunia clutching at his hand and gasping out the word ‘sorry’ to him. He swallowed. “She was forty-two,” he replied.
Ginny sat on the hospital bed with Lily and stroked her soft red hair. Although she was breathing more easily now, Lily was still unsettled. She hated the bubblehead charm across her face and kept trying to tear through it. The nurse had been trying to keep her arms by her side and had just brought out her wand declaring that a slight body bind charm may fix the problem, when Ginny brought her own wand out. She climbed onto the bed herself, held Lily’s hands in her own and told her that if the nurse dared use any spell that wasn’t medically valid, then she’d unleash a bat-bogey hex. The nurse had eyed Ginny’s wand and, remembering how fiercely Mrs Potter had played Quidditch, had lowered her wand.
“Lily, darling,” whispered Ginny as she rocked her. “Try and sleep, sweetheart. Husha, husha, husha.” Ginny could feel tears burning her eyes as she tried so hard to hold them back. Lily gave a gentle yawn and slowly her eyes began to droop. Ginny snuggled down on the bed next to her and watched as her chest rose and fell, rose and fell at a normal pace.
“How is she?” said Harry softly. Ginny looked up; she hadn’t seen or heard her husband enter the room, so intently had she been watching her child.
“She’s doing very well, Mr Potter,” said the nurse stridently. “I expect she’ll be out of here soon, won’t you, Lily?” The nurse stepped towards the bed but Ginny glared at her and she stepped away. “Healer Pye will make the final decision, of course.”
“How are you, Ginny?” said Harry as he sat on the chair by the side of the bed.
“Tired and worried, mainly,” whispered Ginny. “What were you talking to Pye about?”
“N-nothing,” said Harry with a start. “I was checking on the boys and the office, like I said.”
“Harry Potter, I’ve known you for eighteen years and although your ears don’t go pink like Ron’s when you’re not telling the whole truth, I do know when there’s something going on. So tell me.”
Harry groaned. “Not now, Ginny. I want to talk to Dudley first.” He leant back in the chair, took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. Ginny glared at him unrelentingly. He sighed. “I think Dudley may have had asthma when he was younger, okay?”
“B-but he’s okay now?” Ginny asked.
“Yeah, last time I saw him he was as healthy as a Hippogriff. He’d even lost some weight,” Harry replied jokingly. Ginny snorted slightly.
The young female Healer came to the bed and leant in to Lily. “What are you doing?” asked Ginny as the Healer took her daughter from her arms and Lily began to wake. “She’s only just gone to sleep.”
“According to Healer Pye she needs dosing every hour,” explained the Healer calmly. “Please, Mrs Potter, if she doesn’t get treatment every hour then her breathing could get worse.”
Lily started to cry again at being woken up but her breathing remained stable. In resignation, Ginny stood up and let the Healer get on with administering the medicine. She clutched at Harry’s hand and he squeezed back. “She’ll be okay,” he murmured. “They know what they’re doing.”
“Do they, Harry?” questioned Ginny in a low voice. “Or do you agree with Pye that we’ll have to seek Muggle help?”
They watched the Healer as she strengthened the bubblehead charm. Lily, now tired and grumpy, was fighting the mask. Ginny walked over determinedly. “I won’t interfere, I promise, but can’t you see that she’s calmer if I’m here and that has to be better than using a body bind on such a young child.”
Ginny stared into the Healer’s pale blue eyes and saw a look of resignation, so she sat down on the bed and lifted Lily onto her lap. She could see Lily’s wide, scared eyes and she wanted to weep. I’m your mum. I should be able to protect you. “Husha, husha, my pet. This nice witch is going to make you all better.”
At the sound of Ginny’s soothing voice, Lily began to calm down. She stopped flailing her arms and looked into Ginny’s eyes. I’m not lying, am I? Ginny tried to convince herself. She will get better.
Two days later, Healer Pye gave Lily the all-clear and pronounced her fit to return home. Ginny wrapped her up warmly, and, taking no chances with the inclement weather, she leapt into the main St Mungo’s fire landing back at Grimmauld Place.
She could hear the boys racketing around the living room, almost before she landed and could hear her mum bellowing at them to calm down. Harry was by the fire as soon as she landed and took Lily from her.
“Hey, how’s my special girl?” he said lifting her up on his shoulder. Lily was coughing slightly and he looked at the Floo dust settling in the room. “She’s coughing again. Are you sure she’s okay?”
Ginny looked across anxiously. She’d spent two nights in the hospital with Lily and neither had been able to grab much sleep. What she wanted most of all was a hot bath and a good night’s rest but James and Albus were running forward to greet her almost knocking her over in their exuberance. She hugged them intensely “ she’d missed her boys terribly “ then answered Harry. “Healer Pye assures me she’s fine but has said we’re to go back if we have any concerns.” She glanced at her mother who was peering across at Lily. “Hi, Mum, thanks so much for all your help.”
“What are grandmothers for, dear?” Molly said proudly. “Now then, James, Albus, let’s get your lunch and let mummy relax for a while.” She walked off to the kitchen and they followed eagerly behind.
Ginny sat on the sofa and Harry joined her, still holding Lily. “So,” she began, “have you seen Dudley?”
Harry was staring down at Lily, who was still coughing. “I called him and I’m going to see him tomorrow.” He paused. “Are you sure she’s okay? She’s coughing again.”
Ginny looked around the room and her eyes rested on the fireplace. “It’s probably just the dust,” she said and picking up her wand she siphoned it up from the air. She looked across at Harry and stopped; he’d turned pale. “What’s the matter?”
“Aunt Petunia,” he said slowly, “was always cleaning. It was like an obsession with her. I’ve told you how protective she was of Dudley... what if ... all that cleaning and dusting ... were a part of that? What if Lily’s attack was caused by travelling by Floo?”
Harry’s words barely had time to sink in before the flames leapt into life again. Appearing through the fireplace was Arthur. He beamed at them.
“You’re home, Ginny,” he said striding towards them. The dust from his robes clouded the air. Ginny looked at Lily who had turned her head at the sound of her granddad’s voice. She sneezed as the dust tickled at her nose and then “ Ginny could hardly bear to hear the sound “ she started coughing again. Ginny watched in horror as her daughter’s breathing started to turn into a wheeze again. In an instant she whipped out her wand and cast a bubble head charm hoping to prevent more dust. Harry began to clear the dust from the air whilst Arthur stood watching in bemusement.
“What’s happening?” he asked. “Have I done something wrong?”
“We think it’s the Floo dust, dad,” answered Ginny hurriedly. “I’ll take Lily upstairs away from here.” She carried Lily out of the room, up the stairs and into the nursery. Ginny noticed with relief how clean it was in here. Kreacher and her mother had been making it especially nice for Lily’s homecoming. She felt something brush against her feet. “Look, Lily. It’s Widdershins.” She bent down to stroke the cat’s ears. Lily was trying to pull at the mask again and crying grumpily, so Ginny removed it and sat her on the floor.
Laughing with delight at seeing her favourite pet, Lily crawled along the floor to catch him. Widdershins, patient as ever, allowed himself to be caught and Ginny watched as Lily buried her face into his long black fur. Lily was chuckling loudly. Too loudly, thought Ginny in alarm. She saw Lily let go of the cat’s fur, still laughing but now the unmistakeable sound of rasping breaths could be heard tearing at her chest. Ginny launched herself at Lily, and Widdershins, scared of the sudden movement, ran out of the room. Lily was staring at her mother, no delight in her eyes any more.
“Harry,” Ginny screamed. “She’s bad again. We need to get her to the hospital now.”
Harry ran up the stairs two at a time. “I thought Pye said she was better.” He sounded angry but Ginny knew it was only because he was frustrated.
“Pye doesn’t really know, does he?” she replied. “He has an understanding of this asthma thing, but no real knowledge. He said as much himself. We have to take Lily to a Muggle Hospital.”
Harry closed his eyes; Ginny saw he was thinking about something. “Hermione,” he said at last.
“What?” Ginny asked. She held Lily upright across her shoulder and moved across to the window, hoping some fresh air could ease her discomfort.
“Ginny, it’s had been many years since I’ve been part of the Muggle world and I’ve never been to a Muggle hospital. Despite everything that went on at Privet Drive, I emerged from there as a healthy boy. I’d be as lost as you in a hospital... but Hermione won’t be.”
Hermione, as Harry had predicted, proved to be a huge help. She turned up at Grimmauld Place laden, Ginny was unsurprised to see, with books about asthma. She explained that she’d taken them out of the Muggle Library in Ottery St Catchpole. Ginny quickly explained what had happened with the cat and the Floo dust and Hermione nodded knowledgeably.
“It does say that asthma can be triggered by things like dust, cats and any furry pet really. I do think you need to get her to a hospital. St Mungo’s is just not equipped to deal with this.”
Ginny smiled slightly as Hermione began to take over. She’d recently learnt to drive and had bought herself a car. Ron, she was telling them, refused to go anywhere near it when she was driving but Rose and Hugo loved it and it was the only way she could visit her parents. She had parked near the house and the three of them plus Lily walked across the street. Ginny was amused to see that Hermione’s car was completely unmodified by magic. It even had two child seats in the back. Hermione took Lily from Ginny’s grasp and began strapping her in. “It’s Muggle law now,” she explained. “And I don’t think it’s a good idea to attract too much attention to ourselves. Now,” she turned to face them, “Is Lily likely to perform any magic in front of the doctors?”
“She’s barely one year old, Hermione,” muttered Harry. “It’s not likely to kick in yet, is it?”
Ginny could see that Hermione was itching to remind Harry that Rose had showed magical ability at eleven months (and three days) but she held her tongue and just said, “Good, good, that’s one less thing for us to worry about.”
Ginny nipped in the back seat next to Lily, leaving Harry to take the passenger seat next to Hermione. Lily did not seem to be worse than she had been when she’d grabbed the cat, but her breathing was no better. Ginny touched her cheek and stroked her delicate red curls. “Come on, pet,” she whispered. “It won’t be long now.”
They arrived at the big London hospital about fifteen minutes later. Ginny left Hermione and Harry to sort out the vagaries of the hospital car park ticket machine and ran to the building that said Emergencies. “It’s my baby, she can’t breathe well,” she cried to the receptionist, who was busy tapping at something Ginny assumed was a computer. “I think she has asthma.”
A man wearing white coat heard her cries as he walked by and stopped. “Let me take her,” he said in such an authoritative tone that Ginny complied. She followed him as he strode through some double doors and found a cubicle. “I’m Doctor Harrison,” he said as he lay Lily down on a bed. He quickly removed Lily’s coat, jumper and shirt and pulled out a long tube which split in two. Ginny watched as he placed the two ends in his ears and put the third end on Lily’s chest. He moved it around to her back and listened carefully. “Yes,” he agreed. “Definite constriction in the airways. How long’s she been like this?”
“About three days,” replied Ginny. He raised his eyebrows in alarm. “We took her to a hospital and she was there for two nights. They, um, treated her with some kind of vapour and a mask and then discharged her.”
“And you’ve been continuing the treatment at home, yes?” Dr Harrison asked as he began to fiddle with some buttons on a machine behind the bed.
“N-no, they didn’t give us anything,” stuttered Ginny. She was anxious now, not knowing what was going on and feeling that she was under suspicion from this doctor. “The Healer said it might just be a one off.”
“HEALER?” the doctor exclaimed. “You took your baby to a new-age crackpot?”
“Err,” Ginny stumbled. Merlin, why had she said Healer? She knew it should be Doctor. Hermione had kept telling her in the car not to say Healer.
“His name’s Dr Healer,” she exclaimed, aware that it was a feeble explanation. “Of course he’s a real doctor.”
Dr Harrison raised an eyebrow sceptically; he attached a small see-through mask to Lily’s face and emptied a tiny capsule of liquid into the plastic contraption above her head. Then, he attached the tube of the mask to the plastic contraption and turned on a tap. At once a slight misty vapour appeared through the tube and into the mask. Lily began to inhale deeply and Ginny watched as she stopped rasping and her breathing became easier.
“So, this Doctor Healer,” continued Dr Harrison. “Which hospital did you say he worked at?”
“I didn’t,” replied Ginny, playing for time. “Is my daughter going to be okay?”
He looked at her, as if weighing her up. “Your daughter will be fine,” he said at last. “You should have been sent home with a proper medical regime to wean her off the hospital treatment. Being discharged from the hospital straight back into the family home has caused a relapse.” He paused. “We need some more details though: your daughter’s name, age, address, family history, and which hospital you attended.”
His eyes bored into her. Ginny Potter, former Chaser for the Harpies, who had faced countless Death Eaters and survived the harsh regime of the Carrows, stared back. She resisted the urge to bite her lip, knowing that this would betray the fact that she had no idea how to answer his questions truthfully without giving away that she was a witch.
There was a noise behind them and Ginny could see through a crack in the cubicle curtain that Harry and Hermione were running along the corridor searching for them. “That’s my husband and friend,” she said with relief. “They can answer any questions.”