The Sharp Knife (Of A Short Life)
Trigger warnings; death mention, gore mention, miscarriage
The Ravenclaw line is old, and proud, and blessed with knowledge.
But not foresight.
-
She feels the first flutter of a kick three days after Helenaâs father breaths his last, when they are stood beside the grave, her daughterâs tiny hand clasped tight in Rowenaâs, her son still growing inside her.
It feels strange, to call him âHelenaâs fatherâ in her head, to take that calculated, decisive step backward; but they discussed it. While he felt the life drain out of him, while she tried every spell and story she knew to save him, he made her promise.
Whatever it took to not fall apart. Whatever measures were necessary to keep her together, for their children and herself.
She feels the first stirring of their second child, of the son who will carry her name, like a cruel echo of the butterflies that once plagued her stomach every time Ch- every time Helenaâs father came to court her, and she grits her teeth, and holds herself together.
-
Helena is a precocious child.
She has to stretch to reach the shelf she wants, to wrap still baby-chubby fingers around the book she seeks and drag it off the shelf, balanced on her toes and then thudding heavily back onto her heels when she has it clutched in her arms; and Rowena smiles briefly, smoothing a hand over the swell of her belly, feeling her son kick at her touch.
âHave you thought of a name yet?â
Salazar, she has come to find, is an expert at feigning disinterest; but she has known him long enough to read the signs. The creases at the corners of his eyes - too many for one still so young - are fond, his grip on the arms of his chair more interested that he is willing to let on; and her smile widens while she moves her hand to rest against where she can feel her son still moving.
âHelena has been demanding we name him after his father. My own father, of course, insists that we should continue the tradition, but I am reluctant to name him Roland or Reginald or anything else that begins with the letter R.â She rolls her eyes goodnaturedly; and draws absent patterns on her belly, expression softening in thought. âI have been leaning toward Lucien. Or Joshua, perhaps. I donât want to get too attached to a name before heâs born, though. Iâll see which suits him best.â
Salazar makes a remark about Luca thinking the baby is named for him if she calls him Lucian, and Rowena smiles, eyes returning to Helena and her book; and sinks into her seat, both hands pressed firmly against her bump.
She remembers the debate over Helenaâs name, remembers how she was almost called Andromeda, until she opened those big brown eyes and the whole world seemed to shift around her; and ignores the brief, dull spike of pain.
She suffered early contractions with Helena too, has cast spell after spell to be certain thatâs all it is, and after a moment it fades, anyway.
Rowena ponders another name for a moment, considers the startled delight on Godricâs face, how Clara would tease him and Salazar would feign indignation at being passed over; and her smile widens.
-
When Rowena wakes, the sun has yet to rise, and her bedsheets are wet and sticky.
Years later, she believes she knows before the candles are even lit, that she could feel the emptiness before seeing the mess congealing between her knees; but in the moment she is desperate and hysterical, clutching at herself and willing it not to be true.
She screams for her mother in the next room, for her father in whichever country he has left to explore, for the father of her children child, too far to help anyone, screams for Helena to leave when the shouting draws the attention of her curious daughter. She cries, and clings to Arianne Ravenclaw like she is a child herself; and the next six hours are too agonising for words, forced so far back into the recesses of her memory that when she still wakes in the night, panting and crying, she never remembers the details.
Her father returns from his latest adventure. Her mother keeps Helena entertained in the library, shushing any questions about her baby brother.
Rowena does not leave her bed for days.
In the end, they bury him beside his father, beneath a stone without a given name. She holds Helena in her arms, this time, clutches her daughter to her chest and breathes in the scent of her hair; and makes a promise to herself.
Not you, she swears, holding her first - and, something tells her, last - baby to her heart. I will not lose you.
I canât.
