His Eyes

His Eyes

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Epilogue

*

"Here," says Poppy, handing me the magically cleaned baby that has been wrapped in a soft blanket. "Hold him while I check Remus's current condition. There's nothing instantly alarming, but I just want to be sure."

I nod in understanding. This is the fourth baby of mine I'm holding in the Infirmary, and the third time I've been present in the actual birth. Alinca is fifteen now -- my dear eldest daughter. Meredith, her sister, is six, and Juniper, our baby boy until now, is three. And here, safe and secure in my arms, is our second son, mere minutes old Alec, like we'd agreed far before he was born. Alec was also the name of Remus's father, whom he loved dearly. If he'd been a she, we'd called her Helen, for no reason at all but that we both liked the name.

"Hello, my baby boy," I whisper quietly to the now quiet baby that just minutes ago was wailing from the top of his lungs. "It was about the time you came here." And truly, that it was -- he wasn't born until almost a full month after the term was full. Not that it was that bad for him, no; at least it's better than Meredith, whom Remus only carried for six months and who almost died because she was so weak when she was born. However, it is indeed bad for Remus -- a longer term doesn't only mean a longer time of all the problems that come with pregnancy, but also a bigger baby to give birth to. And that means more blood, more pain -- more danger.

However, to my great relief, Poppy soon tells me that Remus is quite okay and will recover relatively well. Partly it's maybe thanks to the strengthening potions I've poured down his throat all these past years, as those have made him lost the weak look so usual to werewolves and appear as a normal man who doesn't have to go through that horrid transformation every month.

We put little Alec to a cradle next to Remus's bed, and I leave to let Poppy fawn over them both and go to inform the rest of my family. It's late at night already, the little children should both be sleeping already, but I know that Alinca, at least, is still waiting for news about the new baby.

However, when I get to our quarters -- usually Alinca sleeps of course in her dormitory, but it's Christmas break right now -- I hear quiet crying from somewhere. Peering into the corridor along which the children's rooms are. Looking into the corridor, I see Juniper's small form standing in Alinca's doorway.

"Ali?" he sobs, tears continuously falling down his cheeks. "Ali?"

"Come here, Juniper, dear," I hear Alinca's sleepy voice from the inside. "You can sleep next to me." And Juniper goes in, still crying. I stand in the corridor, listening, not wanting to startle my little boy, who's obviously only halfly awake. Well, my big boy, now that there's an even smaller boy around.

A couple of minutes later, the crying stops. I put my head into the room and see Alinca lying on her bed, still in full clothes, a tear-faced boy sound asleep next to her tucked in with several blankets.

"Dad?" asks Alinca as soon as she sees me, keeping her voice down not to wake Juniper. "How's Daddy? And the baby?"

I know that a stupid grin spreads on my face, but I don't much care at the moment. "A nice, beautiful baby brother for you," I tell her. "Your Daddy is fine, too."

"Amazing!" she exclaims, oblivious to the little startle Juniper gives at the loud noise, and jumps up from her bed. "May I go to see Daddy, then?" asks Alinca then, raising hopeful eyes at me. She's always been the "Daddy's girl".

However, I have to disappoint her. "I'm afraid you can't," is the only answer I can give her. "He needs a lot of rest now. That's why he's still in the Infirmary -- it'll take at least two or three weeks before he can be moved back home. You do remember that from when Meredith and Juniper were born, don't you?"

"I do," she replies. Then, however, she frowns. "Why is it so, thought?" she asks. "Whenever Melinda's mother has given birth, she's come home with the baby only a few days after the birth, and been completely okay after that. Why cannot Daddy be moved here yet? And why it takes so much time from him to recover enough to even walk?"

Ah, yes, Melinda Weasley. I still cannot understand how my daughter could become best friends with Bill Weasley's child, and thus unofficially join the Weasley clan. Melinda, also the eldest of her parents, has the whole of ten younger siblings by now. Surely she could inform her best friend about the reality of birth-giving.

"Well, you could say that giving birth isn't quite as easy to your Daddy as it is to your friend's mother," I tell her, trying to choose my words carefully. If she doesn't guess it by herself, I don't want to shock her. Of course I'll have to tell her, she's so old she'd start wondering if I didn't tell her, but in the middle of the night is not really the right time for that kind of news.

Realization seems to dawn on her. "Giving birth is dangerous to him, isn't it?" she asks with a bit accusing tone.

"Yes, it is dangerous," I admit quietly. "He risks his life every time he gives birth."

"But why does he do it, then?" Alinca inquires. "And why do you let him do it? Surely there'd be some way to prevent him becoming pregnant..." She seemingly isn't going to give up. I cannot blame her, though -- I wouldn't give up if I was she. I'd want to know, know and understand.

"He continuously risks his life because having children has always been his biggest dream," I tell her, as there's no point to keep anything in secret from her. She's old enough to know. "And I let him do it because I love him, and I want his dreams come true, no matter if it pains me to do so." Then, with an even quieter voice, I add, "I learnt a long time ago that if he's decided to give his life for something, there's no stopping him. Besides, I wasn't there for him during his first pregnancy, and I almost lost him. Maybe I'm making up for that, trying to ensure that he can get his children as safely and comfortably as it is possible for a male werewolf."

Alinca frowns. "What do you mean, 'almost lost him?'" she asks. Clever girl, for actually trying to think and understand. My clever little girl, so much like her father -- and I don't mean myself.

"When he gave birth to you, he was very weak, and thus, it was much more dangerous. Poppy suggested him a Delivery Charm to save him all the pain and trouble, but as there was a 75 per cent chance that you might die, he of course refused." Drawing a deep breath to organize my thoughts, I continue, "He almost died... He would have died, had I not given some of my own life power to him. After that, I forced him to wait until he was wholly recovered until we could even consider having more children -- that's why there's such a large age gap between you and Meredith."

"Oh," she just says quietly. She looks a bit afraid, I notice.

"Don't worry," I say to her with a small sigh. "When I said that your Daddy is fine, I meant it. Sure, he's had his flesh torn and his hip bones broken to let the baby through, and he's exhausted and weak, but all things considered, he's just as fine as possible." Then, noticing her upset expression, I continue, "Come on, Alinca, let's go and have a cup of tea, shall we? And if Poppy calls me to tell that your Daddy has woken up, you can come to see him, too."

"Okay," she replies immediately, then follows me to the small kitchen of our quarters. Sitting on her favourite chair in the end of the table, she watches me while I put the teapot on fire. "How exactly does it happen?" she then suddenly asks just as the tea is ready. "I mean, how can you and Daddy have babies?"

I raise my eyebrows at her. "Don't tell me you haven't been told about birds and bees often enough."

"I have," she says, "but I didn't mean that part. Sure, I know how you make a baby, but how? I've researched male pregnancy potions, and I'm yet to find one that would fit a werewolf's metabolism."

There's no stopping the small laugh escaping my mouth. Alinca may be her Daddy's girl through and through, but when it comes to potions of any kind, she's almost as bad as I am. "Well, you're right," I say then, pouring two cups of tea and taking them both to the table. "He couldn't digest any of those. However, male werewolves have a special organ -- a bit like a uterus, but not quite." She nods, telling me to continue. So, I do. "So, every werewolf can carry a baby of their mate's, the one they are in love with -- and nobody else's. When it comes the time for giving birth -- assuming that there are no complications during the pregnancy, of course -- it turns really difficult." Taking a sip of tea, I make a small pause, then go on. "In female pregnancies, a birth canal already exists. In 'usual' male pregnancies, so to speak, it is created painlessly by magic. However, in a male werewolf's pregnancy, it is torn right through their flesh -- very bloody, and very painful." Oblivious to her shocked expression, I still go on. "Of course, their hips cannot let the baby through. Females already have wide hips, and most males have their hips temporarily widened by magic, but a werewolf's hip bones are broken into hundreds of little pieces."

"Oh," Alinca whispers. "That sounds really painful."

"It is," I admit. "And remember that werewolves cannot even digest the Skele-Gro potion. All that can be done to them is to feed them some potions to speed up the bones' natural growth back together, and at least a full month of recovery. And, during the birth-giving, they cannot rest even the little other people can, or have a C-section performed -- their body will just push continuously until the baby is out, or until they are dead."

My last statement startles her so much that she almost drops her tea cup. "Dear Merlin," she whispers. "How can any of them survive?"

"Some are strong enough," I say, shrugging. I'm really sorry for upsetting her like this, but it's about the time she gets to know.

We talk still for some time. I warn her that, should Poppy call, she must not look too shocked about her Daddy's condition. And she nods. My clever girl.

And, at last, Poppy truly calls. She hasn't even stopped talking before I already rush out of the room, Alinca right on my heels.

By the time we get to the Infirmary, Remus is wholly awake, although sleepy. He looks up to us when we come in. "Severus," he says quietly. "And Alinca... Hi."

"Hi, Daddy," says Alinca nervously. Of course. She's never been allowed to come to see her Daddy and the new baby until Remus has recovered enough to keep a strong, cheery face up to the children. This sight -- her Daddy, exhausted and hurt -- must be really shocking.

Remus lies on his bed, half-propped up by the pillows -- he will not be able to sit properly for at least a week, two at most. I also know that Poppy has bound both his legs and pelvis magically to the bed to keep them completely still during his recovery, so he's only able to move his upper body. The spells won't be released until when he's moved back "home" to our quarters, and even then, he still cannot stand or walk for some time.

Also, we see the reason that woke Remus. In his still weak arms lies Alec, our little baby, sucking furiously milk from the bottle he has in his mouth.

"Awwww," breathes Alinca when we go nearer and she gets a closer look at the baby. "I'd already forgotten how tiny newborn babies can be."

"Tiny?" asks Remus, chuckling tiredly. "He certainly did not feel tiny a couple of hours ago. But yes, I suppose that he is tiny, at least compared with his brother.

"Yeah..." sighs Alinca, wisely letting the mention of the difficulty of birth-giving go by uncommented. Her eyes are locked at her new brother, and her expression is that of amazement and wondering. "I wonder if my babies are going to be as cute," she then says dreamily.

"You try that too soon, young lady, and you'll be grounded forever and the father-to-be will have Aurors after him," I say calmly.

Both she and Remus laugh; they are so much alike, in good and bad. Although, to both our great relief, not she nor any of her siblings are lycanthropic. It's quite enough that Remus is burdened by that curse, it'd certainly be too much if any of our children got it.

Then Alec slowly opens his eyes ajar, and once again, we see a small miracle -- or, by this time, it has become almost a family tradition. Newborn babies usually all have blue eyes that won't change to their final colour until they're about one year old. However, sometimes, especially if the baby's going to have dark eyes, their final eye colour shows immediately.

And so it is with Alec. So it has been with every one of our children, as none of them has blue eyes, nor do they have the golden orbs of Remus.

They all have had onyx black eyes from the day they were born.

My eyes.