Coral

How does it feel to be



One of the beautiful people?



Now that you know who you are



What do you want to be?



And have you traveled very far?



Far as the eye can see.



How does it feel to be



One of the beautiful people?



How often have you been there?



Often enough to know.



What did you see, when you were there?



Nothing that doesn\'t show.



Baby you\'re a rich man,



Baby you\'re a rich man,



Baby you\'re a rich man too.



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Edward had arrived home just in time. Just in time that is, to see Stella stuffing his wife through the Floo, while Winter came flying down the staircase with a huge bag in one hand and her wand in the other.



" It\'s time!" she informed him, and stuffed the bag into his hands. For a moment he merely stood, bewildered. He watched, mouth agape, as Winter Flooed herself to Rookwood, and left him alone, with Amanda\'s bag.



Amanda\'s little violet bag that she had packed and unpacked a hundred times over the last month. He unlatched it and peered inside. A tiny pair of striped pink and white baby stockings met his gaze; the sight of them suddenly making the enormity of the situation real. Amanda was gone to have their baby, and he was just standing there with her bag.



Stumbling to the fireplace, he fumbled out a too large handful of powder and threw it hard into the fire. The flash was too strong, and it expelled him back into the room; he had forgotten to name a location!



He had landed quite painfully on the rug, which was now covered with Floo Powder. Sneezing once, he rose to his knees, then his feet, and reached for the pot again. This time, he managed a proper amount, but his hands were trembling so that he knocked the ceramic pot, with it\'s Egyptian hieroglyphs towards the floor.



He was gone in a flash of green, leaving the remainder of the Floo powder to settle calmly, before the pottery had even shattered,



--



The healers of Saint Mungo\'s, perfectly hygienic in their starched green robes, kindly positioned him outside, in his old familiar corridor, where he had plenty of time to think with great discomfort, on the previous three times he had been in that position.



Once, of course, had been when Elias had been born. That seemed like a century ago, in another world. It was difficult now to recall how he had felt then. He knew he had been summoned from the father\'s lounge for a brief obligatory visit to Dinah and the infant. Had he been smoking? Yes, smoking, and talking with another man.



At that time, what he felt was mostly curiosity. He had good cause to disbelieve the child was actually his own offspring, and therefore had great difficulty in being excited.



By the time he had seen Elias for the first time, Dinah had already made her decisions for the future...and from these, Edward was sadly excluded. He had held the squalling infant with no pleasure, listening as she informed him of her intentions to return to Blackmoor, and take her son. Her son. She never called Elias his son, unless she wanted something.



He was never their son.



The second time he had paced this hall, it had been with Amanda and their infant daughter. That evening he had been merely shocked and petrified. They had thrown him physically from the room at that time, and he had stumbled stunned and disbelieving up the corridor for hours, certain that Amanda would die, and it would be partly his fault.



But Amanda did not die. Though she had appeared frail she had recovered twice from two abruptly ended pregnancies, and all of the ghastly accusations, complications and tumultuous emotions that accompanied such events.



She had survived, when Dinah, who had been so hearty and bold, had complained that Elias had nearly killed her, and that she would need to \'get away\' to find her health. That had been over forty years ago...he wondered grimly whether or not her \'health\' had eluded her entirely.



From inside the room, Amanda cried, out, and he clenched his teeth. He was supposed to be in the father\'s lounge, down the hall, where he couldn\'t hear those sounds issuing from behind the warded door. He knew it was warded; he had struck it in frustration earlier.



The lounge was several paces further from her than he cared to be, yet it was completely nerve wracking to listen and not have the means with which to comfort.



Someone came out once and told him to sit down, that the child was alive, and healthy; that Amanda was alive and healthy--but it might take hours, days even, to be born. He had successfully remained seated for almost forty-five minute, but cringed when he heard Amanda whimper. The sound cut through him physically, and he took up pacing once more.



--



" Amanda! You have to calm down." Stella said, wincing as Amanda crushed her arm. Amanda had gone into a brief fit of hysteria, angry and scared.



Stella\'s maternal admonition made Amanda frown, her face twisting into a horrible shape as she fought off another pain.



" Wh-where is Edward?" she asked.



Stella bit her lip, and shrugged.



\'\' I\'m not sure...do you want me to see?"



" No need for that. He is outside." the healer\'s assistant stated, dryly.



" Why is he out there?" Amanda demanded in an almost accusatory tone.



" Because he cannot come in here!" the woman replied indignantly, but she shifted uncomfortably under the young mother\'s glower.



" Why can\'t he? " Stella challenged.



" It simply is not done." The woman replied.



" Don\'t be ridiculous...they allow fathers in the room in America, and most likely the entire world. "



" This is not America, nor the entire world. That is a Muggle practice, but when one is talking of a room filled with persons of magic, it is too dangerous."



Amanda squealed in discomfort, and rolled onto her side, holding her pillow.



" Mo-other..." she groaned.



" Here...what is it?" Stella wiped her daughter\'s forehead.



" Tell Edward that I am all right...please?" she asked. Her eyes glittered, and her face was pale. Stella nodded and rose to her feet.



" Tell him. " Amanda urged. " He\'ll be worried."



Outside, Edward could hear the dialogue between Stella and the healers assistance, but not what Amanda said. She gave an exclamation that was not a cry, so much as a protestation , and the Healer said something to her. She reiterated by calling him something ugly, and Edward leaned against the door.



When it opened, he stumbled against Stella, who shoved him back out in surprise.



" Sorry." they both said, and she stepped out and closed the door almost all the way. He suspected that she did that on purpose, allowing him the briefest view of his wife\'s face.



" She wanted me to tell you that she is fine." Stella said awkwardly. She herself was developing a grudging degree of approval for Edward. " You know, you could have barged in." she stated.



" I tried. The door was warded from the inside."



Stella smiled.



" They would have only thrown you back out, I\'m afraid. They say you can\'t come in."



Amanda\'s voice was strained as she answered a question for the assistant. Stella glanced back over her shoulder.



" Winter and Eloise were supposed to come back. Have you seen them?"



He shook his head absently.



" No."



" Well, if you do, please tell them that everything is well. I know it doesn\'t sound that way, but truly, it is. "



" I am very sorry." he said. " But I have something else I need to do first."



Stella frowned.



" What--?"



But suddenly, he lunged forward, and shouldered the door from her grip. Lifting her off of her feet, he placed her where he had been standing, and stepped into her place in the doorway.



" I have the feeling I\'ll be right back." he said, and shut the door in her face before she could protest.



Now that he was inside, he crept to Amanda\'s side, and held up a finger to his lips. She held out her hand and he took it. The healer had stepped into another room, and his assistant was studying some confusing charts in the corner.



" I can\'t stay but a moment." he murmured, taking out his handkerchief and wiping back her strawberry hair. She smiled up at him, and he thought what a strange cruel beauty nature was. Woman, made so that man could not resist her, then forced to bear the punishments and consequences of man\'s lust, for which man blamed her. How could such tiny frail bodies suffer so much, and yet, ask so little?



She wasn\'t hurting enough to scream yet, but he saw the arching of her back, and felt the bite of her nails in the back of his hand. She didn\'t want him to see her being so weak; it was only a few hours into the ordeal.



" That\'s a brave girl..." he offered, as her body relaxed.



The Healer returned too soon, and seeing him there, began waving his arms frantically; the motion was taken up by the assistant who began a disapproving chatter at Edward. He relinquished her hand reluctantly, and deliberately gave the healer a difficult time. At last Thoroughgood took out his wand and pointed it directly at Edward.



" Please step outside.I do not want to have stun you."



Amanda raised up on her elbows and told Thoroughgood not to dare, and Edward decided that for her sake, time was come for him to relent. He gave her one more look, one more reassuring squeeze of her hand, and a slight bow before opeing the door.



Once again Amanda saw the gleam of mischief that he had worn when breaking Eloise\'s wards. There was just enough time for Stella to squeeze back through before the door was slammed shut and warded once more.



--



Several hours passed. Eloise and Winter had appeared right after he was thrown from the room and Eloise had been highly amused to discover the reason for his sulking mood. Winter was irritated because it had taken her nearly three hours to locate her sister, and finally found her at tea with Gladys Whetstone.



" How did you get so far in so short a time?" she had demanded in exasperation.



" What has you in such a foul temper?" Eloise had laughed.



" You! Having tea...when Amanda is in the hospital!"



" In the hospital? Does that mean...?"



" Of course! Come along!"



" I am! Why didn\'t you say so to begin with? You and your dramatics! How is she?"



" Her? Oh...I\'m not sure, I only popped in for a moment. She was fine then."



" Lord save us. How is Edward?"



" The last I saw of him, he was pressed face first against the door, listening."



" I see."



Eloise had then extinguished her cigarette, and taken her leave of Gladys, who was painting a large abstract castle, using her hands to apply a thick layer of paint.



If Winter\'s concern was Stella and Amanda, then Eloise\'s was for her friend, and as soon as she arrived, she took control.



Thoughtfully, she summoned three chairs and some refreshments, and the two sisters sat down to wait with him. Occasionally the assistant would appear to say that it wasn\'t over, but that everything was Simply Wonderful. She always used a cheerful, irritating voice that made it sound as though Amanda was not suffering simply because he couldn\'t see her.



After the third time, Eloise had finally said, " Is that the only tone of voice you possess?" which was not the most friendly thing to say, but she had long ago become impatient with the woman\'s unwillingness to share detailed information.



Once Stella came out to rest, and secretly indulge in half of Eloise\'s cigarette before returning. She looked exhausted, and rather drawn, but smiled in excitement.



" She\'s a lot tougher than she seems. " she admitted. " Right now, she\'s dozing a little. "



" How is that possible?" he had blurted out, and Winter gave him a patient explanation, while Eloise listened attentively, also curious to know how a woman could do that.



An hour or so after Stella returned to the room, Edward dozed for awhile himself, leaned against the wall. He learned upon waking that the day had changed. Night had come and gone without their knowledge, and hearing this, he began pacing again.



" You know, women don\'t die in childbirth anymore." Eloise snapped eventually.



Her earlier calm had shattered; now she was just as nervous as he, and she had gnawed her knuckles almost to the point of bleeding.



He didn\'t grace her with an answer, but looked instead to Winter.



Winter, who had given birth to children, sat easily in her cushioned chair, knitting daintily at something. She looked up and smiled at him, and more than the healer\'s words, that smile served to soothe him.



When she indicated the chair beside her, he sat. Now that he was sitting still, he could tell they had silenced the door sometime while he slept, because now he could hear nothing whatsoever, and that was even worse than the very bloodcurdling screams that had begun late the evening before. Those screams had made him realize that her earlier protestations were only whispers in comparison.



" How much longer can it possibly take?" Eloise finally blurted. " It\'s been days!"



" It\'s been only twenty three hours." Winter corrected. Both Edward and Eloise winced at that. Twenty three hours? How long had it been with Elias? He couldn\'t remember because he had been smoking in the lounge, and talking to another father-to-be. They had been talking about the weather, and Quidditch, as if nothing particularly wonderful had been happening only a few doors down.



Edward had just lit a cigarette when the door opened, scaring them all. He hid the offensive object away, and hoped no one smelled the smoke from where it was burning a hole in his cuff. Healer Thoroughgood didn\'t take any interest. He strode out and shook Edward\'s free hand. Stella appeared behind him, grinning from ear to ear, like a cat with cream on it\'s whiskers.



Eloise and Winter came to their feet.



"Ah! Everyone is awake. That is wonderful. You can go in now. And I am sorry that I threatened you earlier. That\'s it...go on in." he ushered Edward toward the door.



" Is Amanda..?"



" She is fine! Tired, of course, very tired. But she wants to see you."



Stella stepped out, so that Edward could enter, and closed the door behind him. He approached the bed slowly, peering into the softly lit corner. The room had been rearranged since his brief visit the day before. Now it was a small, comfortable bedroom, with curtains on the window, and a dim lamp beside the bed. Amanda was propped halfway up on a pile of soft pillows.



There were dark circles beneath her eyes, yet she grinned just as her mother had, and beckoned excitedly to him.



" Come look..." she whispered, and gently pushed aside the blanket so that he could see the face nestled in the crook of her arm. It was pale and impossibly still, and for a moment he was sure it was dead. He exhaled in relief when the child suddenly opened large eyes and began moving it\'s tiny mouth.



" Boy...or a girl?" he whispered, touching a tiny fist.



" Your daughter. " she answered proudly.



" Charlotte."



" That\'s right. Lottie."



" Oh, just look at her. Yes...just look at her. Why, isn\'t she beautiful? " he exclaimed, excitement and relief flooding him, washing away the tedious hours he had spent outside. He pulled the side chair closer so that he wouldn\'t have to stoop to examine the babe.



Amanda began struggling to sit up straighter, biting down a grimace as she moved.



" Shouldn\'t you lie still? " he asked.



" I want to sit up." she replied. " Here, hold her."



" Oh...well, I don\'t think I can...it\'s been rather a long time and--oh, I see." he sighed as Amanda lay the child in his arms.



" I don\'t believe she will mind." she smiled. Now that her arms were free, she could help herself up, hiding the fact as best she could that she was utterly exhausted.



" What shall we put with Charlotte?" he asked, rocking the tiny being slightly.



"I was thinking of September. It is my family name, and she was born in September. Oh, what day is it?"



" It is now the ninth. And Charlotte September sounds nice together. Don\'t you think so?" he asked the tiny bundle. Charlotte September responded by closing her eyes, and yawning.



" She likes it as well." he said, replacing her beside Amanda, whose hand he took carefully into his own.



" And how are you?"



" Happy!" she admitted. " Give me a kiss...I\'ve worked very hard for us."



\'\' You should be resting." he said, kissing her lightly.



" I did. They made me rest for an hour before they would let you come in. " she pouted out her lower lip.



" They did? Well...I suppose that was for the best." but he felt a little disappointed that they hadn\'t rushed right out to share the news.



" I suppose." she agreed, " I want to go home."



He laughed, brushing back her loose hair.



" I know. And we\'ll see what we can do. Do you want to see Eloise, and your grandmother? They are probably most curious."



She nodded.



" Yes...and...couldn\'t I get something to eat? I am starving!"



" Anything you want. Even if I have to smuggle it past Thorogood."



She grinned.



" Is he angry with you for sneaking in? \'"



" No...well, perhaps a little."



" Thank you...for trying at least." she squeezed his hand. " I know...I want a cream pie. Chocolate cream pie."



" Are you sure?" he asked skeptically.



" Oh, yes! A big one." she held out her hands to indicate how large she wanted the pie. He hoped she was only exaggerating.



" Very well...chocolate cream pie it is." he pressed his lips to her hand, and stood. " I won\'t be able to bring it until tomorrow, I\'m afraid,"



" That\'s fine." she said. " But don\'t forget..."



" I\'ll let the others inside." he took another look at the bundle as Amanda lifted it into her arms once more. An impossibly tiny foot escaped from the blanket, the toes spread in what might be indignation. He reached out and touched the sole with awe.



" She is so very little." he commented. Amanda, who had just spent twenty three hours delivering her, held a different opinion on that matter, but she discreetly kept it to herself.



She was too enamored with the little beauty to dwell on her earlier discomfort. Soon, she was surrounded, as Eloise and Winter burst into the room. Stella followed along shortly, having refreshed her self with a cold face washing amd a cup of very strong coffee, heavy on the sugar.



Edward stood back during this female ritual, watching as the Rookwood women cooed, and touched, and held his daughter. Winter coddled her with the practiced hands of a mother, but Eloise was even more hesitant than Edward to hold her. It was the first newborn she had ever beheld, and though she was trying to be polite, a look of bewildered curiosity crossed her face while regarding Charlotte\'s unshapely face, and red-mottled coloration.



" Her eyes are quite blue." she said at last, struggling for something polite to say.



" All babies have blue eyes" Winter said.



" Not all babies."



" Yes they do. They\'ll change color."



" What about her hair, will that change color as well?" Eloise mimicked Winter\'s voice affectionately.



" I\'m not sure. Stella and Rogero were bald. "



" Thank you mother." Stella groaned.



Eloise passed Lottie back to her grandmother, and wiped her hands nervously on her scarf.



" Well...she most definitely does have hair."



Stella rubbed the small head, where several dark curls were covering the delicate scalp.



This continued for sometime until Amanda yawned, and the baby began to make strange noises. They let Edward have a moment more, and he promised again that he would visit her first thing the next morning.



" With a pie." she urged in a voice too low for Pernicia to hear.



" Of course. And now it is time to embrace Morpheus." he said softly as he touched Lottie\'s tiny hand again.



" Or is it Hypnos...?" she asked. " It doesn\'t matter. I doubt I\'ll be able to sleep."



Judging by the slightly grey hue of the vial Ms. Thoroughgood was holding, Edward did not believe Amanda would be experiencing any difficulty in that department.



He resisted the urge to bound down the hall, or do anything else foolish. He might be stunned and ecstatic, but he wouldn\'t dare give Eloise the satisfaction of seeing him act as foolish as he felt. He did however allow her a glimpse of his absolute smugness, a thing she would later to describe to Winter as misplaced male pride.



" What is it with men, that they adore that proof of their virility?" she was to muse.



Winter would only shrug.



While they were musing and shrugging, Crisp was flying through the rain to deliver the news to Amele, and Giles, and to the Polish wandmaker with whom Edward had been keeping up a friendly correspondence since February. He spent a semi-sleepless night cleaning up Floo powder and wishing that he knew more people, just so he could share his joy with them.



He felt like the richest man in the world.



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Lyrics-The Beatles