Ever since being trapped in the pit at the Padmore Park, Adrienne had been quite content to keep to their home in Hogsmeade. She wasn’t by nature a skittish type of person, but in her present condition combined with the sheer terror of feeling the earth sink beneath her, every time so much as a book dropped, Adrienne felt her heart leap into her throat. Curiously enough, it was only when she felt her child move within her that she felt at ease. They, together, had survived that catastrophe. So she was certain that when the time came for the baby to come into the world, all would be well.

It started off as she expected it would. The pains came in increments. First, like the ones she felt a few weeks ago; intense, like when she had her monthly courses. Gradually they’d become more painful, but tolerable. It was during this that she smiled as placidly as she could at her brother as he hovered in the room. Normally men were not allowed in the birthing room, but she didn’t have the heart to tell him to go. And truth be told, Ari's presence comforted her. It gave her a distraction from the pains to let them know she was doing alright, and moving along just as she expected.

But then the pains, they - predictably - became less tolerable. It was at this point that she told Ari to go back home; made him promise to leave and that he would be called if something happened. Because Adrienne knew what was coming, and she knew that she wouldn’t be able to pretend that it didn’t hurt for much longer. Just as scheduled, the pains reached a threshold of pain she had never known, and she keep quiet the cries she let out as she felt the baby shift, as she felt her body push, but she had started to scream instead. She screamed because it hurt, and she screamed because there was no going back after this, that her dreams were on hold possibly never to return, and she screamed because she wanted her mother but her mother had been lost to her long ago.

Somewhere in the agony, she heard the sound of crying; crisp and clear and a sound that was not her own but one that called to her all the same.

“Un garçon!” Came Olympe’s cry of delight. “Madame, vous avez un garçon!” A boy.

But by then the world was hazy and unfocused and then went black. When Adrienne opened her eyes, she was freezing, as if ice had settled along the very creases in her bones. She heard sounds and saw shapes again. Thick blankets were laid on top of her and something awful was poured down her throat, and she threw it up. She tried to push it away, but eventually, hearing the gentle coaxing by the midwife, by Olympe, she tasted the awful liquid once more, and this time felt it settle hollowly in her stomach.

When she heard her name being called, it felt like it took ages to reach her. She almost ignored it, she was so very tired. Somehow, her eyes fluttered open. “Cash?”