The Hardest Thing

The Hardest Thing

A/N: Writing is a magical thing. It can be a way to express yourself, vent anger, and accept circumstances around you. For me, it is often a healing process. I know that all my readers probably tire of reading that all my writing is based off of my experiences and emotions, but writing always makes me feel better. This story is for the real life Matthew.

Disclaimer: Not mine; it's JKR's. Also I don't own Sleepyhead Sun by Chris Rice, Wallace and Gromit by Nick Park and Ardman, and Lucky Charms owned by General Mills.

“If I had never had you in my life, I would have much less pain that taught me about life and love. If you had given up, I wouldn't laugh half as much as I do now. Without you by my side, I would never be the person I am today.” ~ Anonymous

Chapter 1

Harry stood over the crib of his son, Matthew Tyler, and stared at him in admiration. He was absolutely perfect, an exact blend of his beautiful mother and father, with his black hair, sure to be messy, and his chocolate brown eyes. As Harry watched Matthew, he couldn't help but admit that he was in love, and there was nothing in the world that could compare to being a father. Harry reached his hand down to his son and brushed his large fingers against the tiny hand. Matthew looked up and giggled a precious little giggle that made Harry's heart melt.

“Good morning, Matthew! Today's your first birthday! My precious boy is getting so big!” Matthew sneezed. “Yes, he is! I'm so proud of my little boy! But you won't be a little boy much longer, will you? No, you'll be growing up and going to school and making girls hearts break! And in a few more years, I'll take you on your first broomstick ride, and you'll join a professional Quidditch team! You'll be as brilliant as your mother, and—“

“As handsome and brave as your father.” Hermione Potter said from the doorway of her son's nursery. “There are my two men!” She walked over and lifted Matthew from his crib. “Good morning, my sleepyhead sun!” She rubbed her nose against his and Harry smiled. His wife had always been beautiful, but when she held their infant son, she was simply angelic. She began to sing to him the song she always sang: Sleepyhead Sun. Harry couldn't help but feel that his life was perfect as he let the babbling sounds of his son and the soprano voice of his wife wash over him.

When the song was over, Harry kissed Hermione soundly and took his son from her arms. He kissed his forehead softly. Hermione slid her arm through Harry's and they stood, watching their son.

“He's so amazing,” Hermione said. “It's just amazing to think that something so perfect came from you and me.”

“I don't want him to grow up too fast, but it's going to be so wonderful seeing how he grows and learns things.”

“God has a great plan for my little Matthew,” Hermione breathed. The little family stayed in the nursery for a few more minutes, basking in the glow of the warm morning sun and the love that resided in their hearts.

Two years later…

Harry awoke early on that fateful June morning to the feel of someone wriggling up between him and Hermione's sleeping form, shaking the bed ferociously. Harry opened his eyes groggily and saw a little black haired boy on his chest, looking him in the eye.

“Matt, it's too early, go back to your room and sleep some more.”

“Daddy, I'm gonna fly today! Take me on your old Firebolt? Please?”

The sound of her son's voice roused Hermione. She sat up and pulled Matthew off of Harry, tickling him and cherishing his little giggles. Unable to disappoint his son, Harry forced himself to sit up. He grabbed his glasses from the bedside table and ruffled his hair to get it out of his face. Hermione laughed and hugged Matthew tighter.

“Daddy loves early morning flights, doesn't he sweetie?”

Matthew smiled and squirmed out of Hermione's arms. “C'mon, Daddy!”

Harry, now awake, jumped out of bed and lifted Matthew up into the air so that his head was mere inches from the ceiling. He giggled again and reached for Harry's neck. Harry set him on his shoulders and walked him back to his room. As they walked, Matthew clung to Harry's neck in a way that made his heart melt. He walked into the old nursery, now decorated with Wallace and Gromit toys and Thomas the Tank Engine pictures. Harry set his abnormally small son on the dresser and pulled out a dinosaur t-shirt, khaki shorts, and small buckled sandals. Struggling against Matthew's squirming, Harry finally got his son clothed. He knelt down to let Matthew get on his shoulders again and walked back to his and Hermione's room.

Hermione sat at her vanity, fixing her hair into a messy bun. Harry and Matthew walked over behind her, Harry still in his boxers and shirt. Harry kissed Hermione soundly (despite Matthew's squirms of disgust) and handed their son to her. She entertained him while Harry dressed in jeans and a shirt, and, when he was ready, took her son's hand while Harry took the other and led him outside.

The Potters lived in a large country house in the hill country of England. The brown stone house looked out towards the vacant yellow-dirt road and brown picket fence. Behind the house was ten acres of land surrounded by trees. This area gave Matthew plenty of room for a swing set and sandbox, Hermione plenty of room for a garden and a patio to grill on and hang a swing, and Harry plenty of room for a professional sized Quidditch pitch. The surrounding trees blocked it from an outsider's view, allowing Harry to fly wherever he wanted. Harry thought that his Quidditch pitch was the best place in the world, and that morning he would be sharing it with his son for the first time.

Once they entered the Quidditch pitch and Harry got his Firebolt out of the broom closet he mounted and took a very excited Matthew from Hermione. He carefully placed his son on the broom correctly, putting Matthew as close to him as possible. Hermione looked at her two men nervously.

“Harry, do be careful…”

“Hermione, love, you know I will. He's my son, too.”

“Alright, I suppose… I'm going to stay here and watch you two. Matthew, make sure Daddy doesn't hurt himself.”

Matthew could care less about her warning. “Bye, Mommy.”

Harry and Hermione laughed. Harry looked down at his son's tousled black hair. “Okay, Matthew! The first thing you need to do when we fly is to make sure that you have a really, really hard grip on the handle. Here,” he took Matthew's right hand and made his little fingers open around the broomstick. “Like this.”

He pulled his hand back as though burned. “OUCH! Daddy, my hand hurts!”

Harry took Matthew's hand gently, concern filling his face. “Where does it hurt?”

“Everywhere.”

“Does your left hand hurt?”

“Uh-huh.”

Harry frowned. “Maybe we should wait to fly.”

“No, Daddy! It doesn't hurt no more.”

Harry sighed and looked towards Hermione. She shrugged and motioned for him to continue with the flight. Harry looked into Matthew's green and browned specked eyes.

“If they hurt again, tell me, Okay?”

“K. Can we go now?”

“Alright. Just hold on tight, lean against me, and I'll take care of the rest.” Matthew looked ahead, determined. Harry kicked off of the ground and Matthew squealed with delight. Harry flew seven feet off the ground slowly, wanting to give his son the experience of flight but not go too high up.

“Matt, How do you like this?”

“THIS IS COOL!” Matthew's smile spread broadly across his face. They flew around in circles for a while before Harry went into a little dive. Hermione screamed in terror and Matthew screamed in delight. Harry smiled and waved to Hermione, positioned below.

“Did you like diving?”

“YEAH, THIS IS SO COOL!”

“You're doing great for your first flight!”

“Really?”

“Really Really.”

They flew for heaven knows how long before Matthew's nose began to run. Harry ignored at first until he saw blood.

“WHOA, Matt, you okay, buddy?”

“I think my nose is bleeding.”

Harry quickly descended and scooped Matthew up, running him towards Hermione.

“'Mione, his nose just started bleeding for no reason! He didn't do anything and we were only four feet off the ground!”

Matthew was sitting quite calmly in his father's arms, despite his heavy breathing. By this time, his shirt was covered in sticky, warm blood. Hermione picked him up gently, ignoring the blood that pooled on her shirt.

“Shhh, he'll be okay, Harry. Matthew, you're going to have to rid this the muggle way; it's much too tricky to cure it with magic. Can you do something for me?”

“What?”

“Tilt your head back and close your eyes. Try to breath normally, okay sweetie?”

Matthew did as he was told. After a minute, the blood began to slowly ebb, but his breathing was still ragged. His face was pale beneath his raven black hair, making Harry's heart break. He reached out and softly ruffled his hair.

“Atta boy, Matthew. You'll be okay, please try to breathe.”

“I am trying. I am breathing as normally as I can.”

Harry leaned towards Matthew's chest and listened for signs of wheezing, but there were none. His lungs seemed fine except for the fact that he was breathing heavily. Hermione lifted his head up as the bleeding stopped.

“Matthew, let's go inside and sit down. You need to rest for a bit so you don't get hurt again.” He leaned against her and placed his thin arms around her neck, burying his head in her loosened hair. She carried him to the house, Harry close behind.

“Hermione, I don't know what happened. I'm so, so sorry.”

She looked at him and Matthew raised his head to look, too. “Harry, it's not your fault. I don't blame you one bit.”

Harry gave a little smile for Matthew's benefit. They stepped into the house and Hermione set him at his little chair at the breakfast table. He turned his pale face to Harry.

“Daddy, my hands hurt again.”

Harry knelt beside him. “Thanks for telling me. I'll do all I can to make them feel better.”

He patted his shoulder softly, relieved at the slower pace of his breathing. He joined Hermione at the cabinet and poured some Lucky Charms into a Lucky the Leprechaun bowl. Hermione poured milk on top, and he took it to Matthew.

“Eat up, little man. Lucky Charms, your favorite.”

Matthew picked up his spoon and began to eat slowly. Harry returned to Hermione who, to his surprise, was trying to fight back tears.

“Hermione, babe, what's the matter?”

Hermione sighed and leaned against him.

“I just wish I knew what happened to him.”

Harry rubbed her back gently. “He's okay now. I bet it was just one of those fluke things. He sure seems perfectly lively now.” He jerked his head towards Matthew, who was staging a nail-biting fight between two spoons, complete with roaring sound effects. Hermione laughed and walked over to tell him to stop playing with his food.

After a bath and a fresh set of clothes, Matthew was as good as new, except for his complaint of pain in his hands and now his knees. Harry wanted to believe that Matthew was just trying to get attention from his previous escapades, but he couldn't help but worry. His little man had never vied for attention before now, and Harry couldn't help but feel that Matthew's pains were real. He went through the rest of the day quietly, occasionally rubbing his hands and knees.

That night, Harry and Hermione tucked Matthew in and read him a bedtime story. When he fell asleep, they headed towards their room. As they lay against each other in bed, Harry was unusually quiet.

Hermione sighed and leaned her head against his smooth chest. “I'm worried about him, too, but tomorrow's his third birthday. Maybe he'll feel better tomorrow.”

Harry sighed. “Hopefully. Time goes way too fast. It seems like just yesterday you were pregnant with him, and we sat around anxiously awaiting the arrival of our beautiful baby.”

Hermione smiled. “Tell me about it. I can't believe he's three. He's a good kid.”

Harry agreed, hoping that his son's aches and pain would be gone in the morning. He pulled Hermione closer to him and they both fell into a deep sleep.

A/N: Please R &R!

-->

A/N: Hello, all. Here's Chapter 2, Matthew's Birthday. I hope this story is good enough, and I really, really hope that as this story advances it will get inside you and touch your heart as it did mine.

Disclaimer: None of this belongs to me. I am just the girl who is putting in words the beautiful and tragic story of the real life Matthew.

Chapter 2:

Harry and Hermione woke up with the sun, refreshed by sleep and excited about Matthew's birthday party. They got showered and dressed before walking hand in hand down the hallway to their only child's room. The sun, now steadily rising in the sky, sent a beam of heaven onto Matt's sleeping form. His black hair was rumpled like his daddy's, and his little arm curled up to rest beneath his chin. He looked so peaceful and perfect that his parents could do nothing but watch him for several minutes. Finally, they walked as one to his little racecar bed and knelt beside it.

“Matthew,” Hermione said. “Baby, wake up! It's your third birthday!” Matthew's eyes slowly fluttered open. He blinked for a few moments before sitting up abruptly.

“My birthday! Do I get cake?”

Harry laughed and ruffled his son's hair even more. “Yes, you'll get cake later at your party! Uncle Ron and Aunt Luna are coming with Scarlett and Rhett, and Aunt Ginny and Uncle Neville are coming with Maureen and Jacob. Then we'll eat cake and you'll get to play and open presents and eat more cake and—“

Hermione laughed. “Harry, it's Matthew's birthday, not yours.” She smiled, secretly adoring his childish enthusiasm. “Come on, Matthew. I'm going to make pancakes just for you this morning.”

Matthew's eyes widened. “Will you make pancake people?”

“Of course I will.” Matthew stood up in his bed, excited. Harry picked him up and swung him around. Matthew laughed and Harry put him down between him and Hermione. He took each of his little hands in their big ones and looked at them, waiting to go to breakfast. Hermione's eyes, however, were riveted to Matthew's arms.

“Mommy, what's wrong?”

“Matthew, what did you to your arm? Omigosh, Harry, he's bruised all around his arm!”

Harry knelt down to examine. He gently pulled back the long sleeved shirt that Matthew had slept in and gasped. There were several dark, purplish bruises in various places on his arms.

“Matt, what did you do to your arms?”

“I dunno. They don't hurt that bad. Can we go eat pancakes?”

“Hold on just a bit.” He pulled the shirt off Matt and found three small bruises; one near his neck, one near his belly button, and one on his back. Upon relieving him of his pajama pants, he discovered a small spread of reddish rash area on his inner thighs. “Son, what happened to you?”

“I dunno. The only thing I've done is fly and eat Lucky Charms and play with Gromit and took a bath and played hide n go seek with you and mommy. Why?”

Hermione spoke up. “Are your hands and knees still hurting you?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Sweetie, I don't know how to help you! Let's go down and get you some food and then we'll figure out what to do.”

“Do I have to skip my birthday?”

“Oh, heavens no! No one will make you miss your birthday.”

“Good. I like cake.”

Hermione laughed and hugged Matthew gently. “Let's go make pancake men.”

They walked hand in hand to the kitchen, but Harry stayed in his son's room. He pulled himself from the floor and sat on the little blue car bed. Something was wrong with his precious son, that was for sure. But had there been any sign previously that things were wrong? Matthew had been getting worn out easily, but Harry had just attributed that to the results of being a two year old boy. And Matthew's gums had been swollen to the point of bleeding if brushed too hard.

Harry sighed and put his hand on his hands, raking his fingers through the hair that he shared with Matthew. He felt horrible. If something was wrong with Matthew, he should have realized it earlier. But, surely… He hadn't noticed before now, so apparently Matthew was okay. Harry was a good daddy; he would know in his heart if something were wrong. Reassured by this thought, he went down to the kitchen to help in the pancake making.

When he reached the stovetop, Hermione was standing in front of the stove with an apron on, holding little Matthew up to let him pour his batter into a human form with a hat. Harry came up beside them and watched Matthew and his look of concentration. Harry smiled at the lopsided little man. Hermione put Matthew back down and smiled feebly at Harry.

“Daddy, would you like to make a man?”

Harry smiled. “Sure! I'll name him Mr. Brown. What is your man's name, Matthew?”

“Shaun. Like Shaun the Sheep.”

“That's a great name! Go on and sit down, and when Shaun's finished baking, we'll bring him to you to eat.”

“'K.” He trotted over to the table and wiggled into his little chair. Seeing some forks and spoons on the table, he began to stage a sculpture with them, his little innocent mind seeing them as dinosaurs, centaurs, and trolls; Hermione and Harry only seeing silverware. They smiled at him and turned back to the pancake people. Hermione looked down, fixated on the burner.

“'Mione? You okay?” Harry looked at his teary eyed wife.

“N-no!” She sighed. “I don't know what to do about Matthew.”

“Something's wrong, I know. But today's his birthday, Hermione. I think we should let him have an excellent day and then we'll take him to St. Mungo's tomorrow.”

Hermione flipped a person and looked at him. “Alright, I suppose. After he eats, let's get him bathed, and we'll look for anything else on him. Then we'll get him ready for his party.”

“Sounds good.” Harry leaned down and kissed Hermione soundly, only breaking away when a little pancake man began to smell overcooked. Hermione flipped the little man onto a plate and took him to Matthew's plate.

***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** *****

After a nice breakfast, Harry took Matthew upstairs to give him a bath. When all Matthew's clothes were gone, Harry was relieved to see nothing worse than he had seen before. He gave him his bath quickly and got him dressed and ready for the day. Right as Harry pulled on a little blue shirt with a rocket on it, the doorbell rang. Matthew ran downstairs, followed closely by Harry. When they reached the landing, they found Ron and Luna standing in the doorway. Beside them stood their two children: Scarlett with her flaming hair, aged 5, and Rhett with his blond hair, aged 3.

“UnCA RON! AUNTIE LUNA!”

Matthew ran and threw himself at their legs as Scarlett and Rhett ran to Harry. Ron leaned down to Matthew and grabbed him in a hug. “Hey, Matthew! Happy Birthday!”

“We get to eat cake. Did you bring me a present?”

Harry stood up from his kneeled position. “Matthew, that's not nice to ask someone! Instead, say `thanks for coming.'”

Matthew nodded. “K. Thanks for coming.”

Ron noticed a bruise on Matthew's arm and touched it gently. “Hey, little man. What did you to your arms? You're pretty beat up.”

“I dunno. Come on, you get to eat cake! You too, Auntie Luna.”

Luna smiled. “Thank you, Matthew. I can't wait. Scarlett, Rhett, come on!” Rhett and Scarlett came obediently to their mother's side. Matthew ran to his daddy's side and reached up to stick his hand in Harry's. They went into the kitchen where they found Ginny, Neville, Maureen, and Jacob sitting around the table. Ginny got up and went to Matthew, picking him up carefully.

“Happy Birthday, Matthew! You're getting to be a big boy!”

“We get to eat cake.”

All the adults laughed. Hermione sighed and shook her head. “Ah, nothing can distract a child from their goals. Matthew, we'll eat cake in a little bit, but first you get to open all your presents! Don't you want to do that?”

Matthew's eyes shone in excitement as he saw the pile of presents on the table. He walked over to them almost in a daze and hopped into his little chair. He looked at the pile longingly before looking to Harry.

“Can I open them, Daddy?”

“Of course you can. It's your special day!”

Matthew looked at the presents again before speaking. “Thanks for coming.” He averted his attention from his aunts and uncles to Harry. “Was that okay?”

Harry laughed. “Perfect.”

Matthew nodded and began to open his presents. When he finished, he had gotten Wallace and Gromit action figures, a miniature flying broom (only flies four feet from the ground to assure the safety of your little wizard!), some plastic dinosaurs, a fake wand that emitted candy and bubbles, and a large array of sweets. He looked at all of his gifts in excitement, unable to stop fidgeting. Hermione cleared her throat.

“What do we say, Matthew?”

“Thanks, Unca Ron and Auntie Luna; Thanks, Unca Neville and Auntie Ginny.”

Hermione smiled and patted her son's back. “That's my boy.”

Harry flicked his wand and conjured up a plate of hotdogs and condiments. “Now that we've gotten presents, it's time to eat!” The little party sat down together and ate, making small conversation about Quidditch, weather, and old times at Hogwarts. The children gasped in amazement as their parents told them of all the dangerous and exciting things they accomplished together. After the lunch was over Harry and Hermione went back into the kitchen area and came back with a large chocolate birthday cake, iced with the letters, `Happy Birthday Matthew!' in flashing icing. Three little candles were stuck in the `M'.

Matthew's eyes widened as a huge grin broke from his face. Hermione began to sing Happy birthday and everyone joined in. When they finished, Harry put his arm around Hermione and looked at Matthew.

“Blow out your candles and make a wish!” Matthew nodded and closed his eyes tightly. He balled up his fists and held them level with his chest before squeezing his eyes as tightly as possibly. With a huge breath, he blew out all three candles. Everyone clapped and Hermione cut the cake with a flick of her wand. The cake magically distributed itself evenly amongst everybody, and Matt was finally able to have his cake and eat it, too.

After the kids had had their share of cake, they started fidgeting crazily. The adults understood and moved the little party out to the patio to give the kids some running space. As Hermione watched Matthew running around and playing with his little playmates, she gave a little sigh. Ginny seemed to be talking, but she was too busy playing with her hair and watching her son.

Harry leaned over towards her. “Hey,” he whispered. “You okay?”

Hermione nodded. The group of friends fell silent, watching Harry and Hermione. Ron cleared his throat nervously.

“Mate, what's wrong with Matthew?”

Ginny nodded. “I know! I saw his little arms and they're all bruised! And he kept rubbing his little hands as though they were hurting him! Is he okay?”

Harry looked down, trying to compose his answer. “We're not quite sure what's wrong with him. We're going to take him to St. Mungo's tomorrow.” Hermione's eyes began to pool.

“We didn't notice anything was wrong until yesterday when Harry took him on his first flight. But know that I think about it, he hasn't been acting right for a while. I just feel so horrible.”

Luna leaned over and patted Hermione comfortingly. “There, there dear. I'm sure Matthew will be all right. Don't beat yourself up over it; you two are the greatest parents I've ever met.”

Hermione sighed and leaned against Harry's shoulder. “I hope you're right, Luna. I sure hope you're right.” Nobody present knew quite what to say.

***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** *****

That night, Hermione sat in Matthew's room after she tucked him in. He looked up at her from his pillow, curiously. “Mommy, what you doing in here?”

Hermione leaned up and touched the side of his face gently. “I'm just thinking of how big you're getting. You're growing up so fast.” She took his tiny hands in hers. “Here in just a year or two you'll be going to the Magical Primary School and you'll be learning so many new things and meeting more people.”

Matthew looked at his mother's eyes and then looked out the window above his bed. “I'm not going to school, Mommy.”

Hermione looked startled. “What do you mean?”

“I will go to Hogwarts, but I'm not going to p-p-preemarry school.”

“Primary, dear.”

“Oh, okay. I'm not gonna go.”

Hermione was speechless. “I—What? H-How do you know?”

Matthew just shrugged. “I just know.” They sat in silence, staring at each other. “Mommy, I'm tired.”

Hermione gave a weak smile. “Of course you are, sweetie. I'll turn off your light.” She kissed him on the forehead. “Goodnight, love. Go to sleep, and may angels watch over you as you dream, my three year old.” Matthew smiled.

“Good night, Mommy.” He rolled over in his bed. Hermione watched him for a moment before turning out the lights and padding out of his room. She went calmly to the bathroom and closed the door. Only then did she let the tears she had been carrying all day flow down her cheeks.

A/N: R&R! Next Chapter will be Matthew's Doctor's Visit. Please keep reading this. Just a warning, though: Teardrops will fall (if not for you, for me, at least). Please just keep reading; I really think your heart will be touched.

-->

Chapter 3

A/N: Hello again, everyone. Sorry it took so long to update the last chapter, but my computer went awry. Here is chapter 3. I'm sure many of you know what is wrong with Matthew, but read on anyways to make sure you're correct. The chapters preceding this were merely background chapters, this is where it all begins.

Disclaimer: JK Rowling owns the characters and my precious Matthew owns the events.

Chapter 3:

Harry hated doctor's waiting rooms. Something about them just gave him the willies. Maybe it was the sterile smell, the coughing patients, or the old magazines, he didn't know. All he knew was that he hated them, but he was willingly sitting in one early that rainy summer morning. He looked over to Matthew, sitting on his right in a little plastic chair, and realized that he wasn't the only one who hated the doctor's office: Matthew was very pale and unnaturally still. To Harry's right sat Hermione, tapping her foot nervously and glancing at her watch every two minutes. Clearly, none of the Potters wished to be there in the children's ward of St. Mungo's.

When the big hand on Hermione's watch struck ten o' clock, the large metal door to the examination rooms swung open. Out stepped a beautiful young mediwitch with long blond hair and a botox smile. She held the clipboard in front of her, and in a high pitched voice, called for Matthew Potter. Harry took Hermione's hand and smiled at Matthew, taking his small hand in his free one. Matthew gave him a nervous little look before going along with his parents.

The mediwitch led the Potters down the hallway, painted a cheerful yellow and green. She patted Matthew gently on his black mess of hair. “Okay, hon. Just step up here on the scale and I'm gonna weigh you, alright?” Matthew just looked at her and nodded. She set the balance and wrote the weight on his papers and records. A baffled frown broke forth from her face. Harry swallowed nervously.

“Ma'am, what's wrong?”

The mediwitch shook her head. “Oh, nothing. He just seems to have lost quite a bit of weight since we last saw him.”

Hermione whimpered. “That's not good.”

The mediwitch once again put on her botox smile. “No, it's not, but,” she leaned down and put her hand on Matthew's shoulder. “We'll take care of you, won't we, little man! Let's go into the examination room!” She led the little family to a room that was decorated with a moving mural of children playing Quidditch. The mediwitch checked Matthew's temperature, blood pressure, and pulse. She wrote everything down carefully before questioning Matthew.

“Okay, hon. Can you tell me how you feel?”

Matthew shrugged. “I don't feel good today. My hands and knees hurt real bad.”

“I see. And have they hurt before?”

“Yeah.” Matthew averted his attention from the mediwitch to the Quidditch kids on the wall. “Do you like Quidditch?”

The mediwitch smiled. “Yes, I do. I love watching it, but I'm afraid of heights.”

Matthew nodded. “Oh. I'm not afraid. I flew the day before yesterday.”

“Really!” the botox smile grew wider. “You must be a really brave boy!” Matthew nodded.

The mediwitch asked him some more questions before leaving. The silence in the room was deafening. Matthew sat still, watching the wall mural. Harry and Hermione sat in little chairs by the table, gripping each other's hands in nervousness. After what seemed like an eternity, the doctor came in. He was an older wizard with a large white moustache and twinkling blue eyes. He came across the room and shook Harry and Hermione's hands.

“Hello! I'm Dr. Shobert! It's nice to finally meet you, Mr. Potter!”

Harry smiled. “Likewise.”

Dr. Shobert moved towards Matthew. “And this must be Matthew!” He extended his hand and Matthew shook it uneasily. “We're gonna take care of you, little guy, but I'm going to need to perform a simple little spell. Will you please sit still as a statue?”

“Statues move a lot when you drive by them.”

Dr. Shobert laughed. “You're right, they do, I'm sorry. Sit as still as a statue in a muggle park, will you?”

Matthew nodded and sat up erectly. Dr. Shobert pulled a long wand out of his coat and gave it a flick. “Revelarius!” A faint glow of black light seeped from his wand and wound its way around Matthew's body. It twisted and turned before forming a strange symbol over Matthew's head. The small, dwarf-like doctor jumped back in surprise, his glasses flying off of his nose. “GOODNESS GRACIOUS!”

Harry jumped up and looked the doctor in the eye. “Dr. Shobert, what is wrong with my son?”

Dr. Shobert touched his forehead, as if thinking hard. “I-I'm not sure. The spell that I just used informed me that Matthew has some disease, but I've never seen any form of a disease in the magical world!” He stroked his chin thoughtfully. “Yes, this is peculiar!”

Harry's face grew pale and rigid. Hermione's hand seemed to be frozen to her mouth. “So what can you do?”

Dr. Shobert laughed. “Do? Dear boy, I can't do anything. I'm sorry.”

Hermione could not take that answer. She jumped up and stood over the little doctor, her face turning crimson as she spoke quietly but angrily. “That's it? You can identify the problem, but you can't do anything? You're just going to let him go on living with—whatever's wrong with him? YOU ARE A FREAKING WIZARD AND A HEALER! DO SOMETHING TO FIGURE OUT WHAT”S WRONG WITH MY SON!!!”

To Hermione's dismay, Dr. Shobert shook his head. “Mrs. Potter, we are not equipped to do anything of this sort. To my knowledge, there has never been a disease like this in the magical world. Every other time that that spell has been used, it shows the brain, the heart, the stomach…Never that sign. I'm not even quite sure what is wrong. I'm sorry, but we can do nothing here at St. Mungo's.” Hermione sat down, defeated, as tears filled her eyes. Dr. Shobert's moustache twitched. “There is one solution to Matthew's illness, but I don't know if you would be willing to do something that drastic…”

Harry clenched his large hand around the chair's arm. “We are willing to do whatever is necessary to get Matthew well. Please, tell us.”

“You could take him to a muggle hospital. They would be able to diagnose the problem and help him, but you'd have to depend on science, a thing much trickier than magic. It will be more dangerous and inconvenient, but it will hopefully help.”

Hermione's face had grown pale. She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. Harry spoke for her, although his voice was shaky. “Dr., could you tell us of a muggle hospital that would be able to help?”

“So you'll do it?”

“I'd do anything to help my son.”

Dr. Shobert nodded sadly. “Very well. I would advise you to go to the London Integris Hospital Center. It is a very nice facility with enough technology to figure out anything there is in the world that could be wrong with a person, wizard or muggle. It's also one of the only establishments with the head of the hospital in contact with the wizarding world, for special cases, such as stitches or certain medicines.”

“So what do we tell them?”

“I'll write you a note that explains everything to them. Here's the address.” He scribbled some names and numbers on a piece of parchment and handed it to Harry. He outstretched his hand and took the soft parchment between his fingers. Harry helped Hermione up, gathered Matthew in his arms, and led his family outside.

***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** *****

The Potters were silent as they drove to London Integris in their yellow muggle SUV. Hermione stared out the window listlessly and Harry focused on the rain falling on the road. After some time, Matthew spoke up from the back seat.

“Mommy, am I going to die like Crookshanks?” Crookshanks had died less than a year earlier, much to the family's sorrow. Hermione gasped at Matthew's question as tears filled her eyes.

“Sweetie,” she said softly. “You can't die. I'll make sure that you'll be okay.”

“Okay.” Silence ensued for another full minute before Matthew spoke again. “Mommy?”

“Yes, baby?”

“Why is Dr. Shobert sending me to a muggle hop-sital?”

Hermione sighed. “I'm not sure, baby. We'll find out soon enough.”

A few minutes later, the little SUV made its way into the parking lot of the children's research center. Harry found a parking spot and the family walked through the rain towards the building. Once inside, they shook the rain off of their clothes. Hermione bent down and tried to smooth Matthew's hair a bit as Harry went to the receptionist's desk. She looked at Harry from behind the perch of her large hornbill glasses. “Yes? Can I help you sir?”

Harry smiled. “Ah, yes. I need to see Dr. Powers, please.”

“Well, I'm afraid you can't see him. He's busy.”

Harry put his hands outspread on the counter. “No, I…You don't understand! My son, Matthew! He's sick and Dr. Shobert told me to come to Dr. Powers! I have a note here, see? It's really important. Please, just look…” The receptionist looked at him and sighed before snatching the note from him. She read it quickly and her eyes widened. She folded it back up carefully and motioned for Harry to lean down.

“Why didn't you tell me you were a wizard?”

Harry was dumbfounded. “Well, I—I mean, well, I didn't know…”

The receptionist laughed. “It's okay. You can find Dr. Powers on the fifth floor, room 544. Go on up.”

He nodded. “Thank you.” Harry joined Hermione and Matthew and walked them to the elevator. Matthew tried to drum along to the elevator music, and was disappointed when the elevator stopped. Harry ruffled Matthew's hair up to the dismay of Hermione, who had just spent time pushing it down. They walked down a long, blandly colored hallway to Dr. Powers's office. Harry knocked firmly on the door. Moments later, it sprung open to reveal a short middle-aged doctor with short brown hair and chocolate colored eyes. He looked at the knockers questioningly.

“Yes?”

“Dr. Powers?”

The doctor extended his hand and shook Harry's and Hermione's. “That's me. Come on in!” They followed him into the comfortable little office filled with all sorts of amazing sculptures and anatomical figures. Harry and Hermione sat in front of Dr. Powers's desk, waiting to speak.

The doctor leaned back in his chair. “You three must be the Potters. Dr. Shobert called me and told me you would be coming.” His eyes traveled to Matthew, who was staring at a model of the human heart. “You must be Matthew!” Matthew nodded. “It's nice to meet you!” He opened a form that was lying on his desk. “This is Matthew's file. I've been studying it while I waited for your arrival.”

Harry leaned forward. “Do you know what is wrong?”

He shook his head. “I'm not positive, but I would like to get a blood sample from him. I can possibly determine the problem from a blood sample. Is that okay with you two?”

Hermione nodded. “Whatever means necessary.”

The doctor clapped his large hands. “Alright, then! Take Matthew down to the Laboratory on the second floor. Fill out your forms, they'll get a blood sample, and instruct them to analyze it as soon as possible.”

Harry tilted his head slightly, “Thank you so much, Dr. Powers.”

“Anytime.”

***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** *****

Matthew did not like needles at all. He cried like a baby when the smiling nurse came in with the big shiny needle. Hermione had sat beside him, stroking his back gently, trying to console him as he sobbed in anguish. Finally the needed amount of blood had been taken, and Matthew's tears were reduced to small hiccups. The nurse took the blood into another room and returned with a big lollipop for Matthew. As he licked, his hiccups were diminished, and he was no longer breathing heavily.

“Needles are scary,” he said as he ate. “I don't like a lady I don't know poking something in my arm.”

Harry smiled. “I completely agree. I'm terrified of needles.”

Hermione nodded her head in agreement. “When your father and I had to do a blood test before we got married, I had to practically sit on top of him to hold him down long enough to inject him.”

Matthew giggled and Harry grinned. “Good times, good times.”

The family sat in the laboratory waiting room for half an hour or more before the nurse returned with the results. Matthew sat up rigidly, not daring to move less he be pricked again. The nurse handed Hermione a file folder.

“Here's the test results. There are a few white blood cells more than necessary, but everything else appears to be perfectly normal. I'm not quite sure what's wrong, but Dr. Powers will know what to do. Take this report to him ASAP.” Hermione shook the nurse's hand.

“Thank you so much.”

“No problem. I hope Matthew gets better soon!”

When they got back to Dr. Powers's office, he looked at the files carefully. All was silent momentarily until Dr. Powers closed the folder with a snap.

“Matthew, would you please go into the play area right outside? I need to talk to your parents privately about grown-up matters.”

Matthew nodded and walked slowly out the door. Hermione grabbed Harry's hand quietly. Dr. Powers pulled off his reading glasses and looked at the Potter parents.

“I think I know what's wrong with Matthew, but I'm not 100% sure. If I treat him immediately for what I believe is wrong and it's not the problem, he will be sicker than he already is. I can do a test to ensure what is wrong, if it is what I think it is, but it will be painful for Matthew. However, we could do the test today, and get results within an hour. The choice will be up to you two.”

Harry frowned. “What exactly would you have to do during the test?”

“We would take him into a room, give him a little hospital gown, and make him lie on his stomach. We will clean a spot directly on his hipbone and numb it the best we can. Then we'll have to take a large needle and insert it into his bone to extract some bone marrow for a biopsy. We'll analyze the sample and be able to tell for certain what is wrong.” He looked at the pale-faced Hermione. “Will you agree to the procedure?”

Hermione whimpered but slowly nodded. “May we be with him while they do it?”

Dr. Powers smiled. “I wouldn't have it any other way. Now, please go get Matthew from the play area and bring him back. I'll go with you guys to the procedure room. Normally, we don't cater this much to patients, but, well, you are the savior of the wizarding world…”

Harry groaned and walked out of the office to retrieve his precious son.

***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** *****

Matthew almost had heart failure when Hermione gently explained to him what would happen. After a while, he finally agreed to take off his clothes for the biopsy. His agreement came only from the fact that he was plum tuckered out from his short play. Harry helped him get undressed and Hermione put the hospital gown on him. Harry picked him up and laid him facedown on the bed, frightened by how weak he appeared.

When Matthew was comfortably situated, a nurse came in and pulled the gown away from Matthew's backside. She cleaned a circle on his skin carefully before placing a numbing patch on the cleansed area. After a few minutes, the slightly numbed area began to bother Matthew.

“Daddy, my hip feels funny.” Harry came up beside him and stroked his hair.

“I know, little man, I know. Please try to be brave for me, okay? This is going to hurt a little bit.”

Matthew didn't have time to respond. Dr. Powers stepped into the room, followed by an assistant with a tray of medical tools. The doctor came up to the table.

“Matthew, can you feel anything under that patch?”

“It feels funny.”

Dr. Powers nodded. “It will feel funny. Now, what's your favorite thing in the whole wide world?”

Matthew thought for a moment. “Quidditch.”

“Alright, then, think about Quidditch the whole time I do this. Don't stop thinking about Quidditch.”

“'K.”

Dr. Powers took a long, surgical needle from the tray, making Harry squirm. He advanced on Matthew and poised the needle inches away from Matthew's hip. His assistant removed the patch, and Hermione tightened her grip on Matthew's left hand. Then, slowly, Dr. Powers lowered the needle until it pierced Matthew's skin. Matthew let out a scream at the pierce. He tried to thrash around, not knowing that it would hurt him worse. Hermione and Harry struggled to keep him calm so the doctor could finish the procedure. They both held Matthew's arms firmly to the table top; their hearts breaking with each of Matthew's sobs.

Dr. Powers pushed the needle farther until it scraped against the bone. Hermione's eyes began to fill with tears. “Please, doctor, this is too much…”

“We can't stop now.” He pushed the needle farther until it was inside the bone. Matthew screamed in pain but didn't have the strength to try to fight to get away. Harry's hands trembled as he watched the large needle protruding from his son's skeletal form and the doctor standing over him. It was too much, and Harry felt like an unfit father. He was supposed to protect Matthew from all pain, all the hurt in the world, but here he was, naked and screaming in pain on top of a sterile table in a sterile room.

The needle bored deeper, resulting in more screams from Matthew and more heartache from his parents. Finally, after what seemed an eternity, the marrow began to creep up into the tube until it was full. Dr. Powers extracted the needle from Matthew, now chalk white from pain. The assistant put a cotton ball over the pierce and secures it with a piece of tape. The doctor walked off and Harry grabbed Matthew in his arms and held him tightly, his tears falling onto the hair so like his own. Matthew looked up at him for a moment before fainting in his father's arms. Hermione screamed and ran to them, cradling Matthew's lolled back head between her hands. Harry fanned air into Matthew's face, trying to revive him. The assistant came over to the family and pried Matthew out of Harry's clinging arms.

“He'll be alright, he's just fainted. Please leave him be until he wakes up.”

The next hour was the longest hour Harry and Hermione had ever experienced. Matthew was still out cold, and they knew that somewhere in the same building, someone was analyzing Matthew's biopsy, seeing what was wrong with the little guy. Harry hated to think of what was to come if the test was so brutal.

After they had paced Matthew's examination room until their feet ached, Dr. Powers came in, a file in his hand and a grim look on his face. Harry ran to him and put his hands on the doctor's shoulders.

“What's wrong with my son, doctor?”

Dr. Powers sighed and rubbed his temples. “Please,” he gestured towards a bench, “Sit down.” Harry and Hermione sat down warily.

“Doctor,” Hermione said softly. “What's wrong with my baby?”

“Well the blood tests and marrow biopsy have proven that it is what I suspected but prayed was not true.”

“What is it?”

Dr. Powers sighed. “Matthew has leukemia.”

-->

So Much For That

Chapter 4:

Even though Harry and Hermione were magical, they knew what leukemia was from their muggle backgrounds. They tried to stay calm as Dr. Powers told them how Matthew's test results showed an excessive amount of white blood cells. He told them that there were four types of leukemia, and that Matthew had acute lymphoblastic leukemia, or ALL, which was fatal if left untreated, spread to vital organs very quickly, and was mainly obtained by young children.

Hermione looked at Dr. Powers with her eyes full of tears. “Are you going to be able to give him treatments, or is it too…” Her voice trailed into silence.

Dr. Powers rubbed the bridge of his nose. “I'm going to schedule for a chemotherapy treatment three days from now. We believe that Matthew has been carrying this disease for a longer time than he let on, so we're not sure how long it will take for him to go into remission. I'm just going to be honest with you: This is going to be a long, hard process. The average amount of time for chemotherapy treatment in young males is three years, but since we've detected it later than normal, we may have to have a longer treatment session.”

Harry could hardly breathe from the lump in his throat. “Does ALL affect many children?”

“There actually aren't too many, but we do have four, sadly. They are children of various ages and chemotherapy time, ranging from 2 months to almost three years of treatment and 2 to 15 years in age. Despite their age differences, they have become a sort of little support family, and their parents are binding together to help their children through this disease. Every Thursday they and their families have a little get together in a little room on this floor. When Matthew wakes up, we'll take him in and introduce him. You can meet the parents, too.”

Harry couldn't speak, so he nodded instead. He gripped Hermione's hand in his large, firm hands and brushed it lightly with his thumb. She clasped his hand tighter and looked to the doctor.

Dr. Powers sighed, his eyes filled with sincere tears. “Let's go check on Matthew.”

They walked down the hall to that accursed procedure room and slowly opened the door. Matthew was lying on the hospital bed, so pale and small looking. Harry walked towards him and felt relief rush throughout his body when Matthew's eyes fluttered open. He sat up quickly and clutched his head, obviously suffering from a headache. His eyes squinted up in odd shapes and he looked at Harry questioningly.

“Daddy, what happened to me?”

Harry sat on the bed and held Matthew close to him. “Oh, son. You fainted after your procedure. Are you feeling alright now?”

Matthew rubbed his backside. “It hurts, but I'm okay.”

“Good.” Harry forced a smile. “I'm glad.” He looked at Dr. Powers and he nodded towards Harry, wishing for him to continue. “Matthew, son… There's something I need to talk to you about.”

“What is it, Daddy?”

Harry swallowed trying to clear the tears that threatened at his son's innocence. “I know this may be a little difficult to understand, but, well… You know how they stuck that big needle in your hip?”

Matthew nodded. “It hurt.”

“Yes, I know it hurt very badly, but you were so brave. I'm proud of you.”

“Thanks.”

Harry paused, wondering what to say next. It was hard to explain to a three year old that he had an acute disease, especially when that three year old was his only son.

“Well, when they stuck that needle in your hip, they took a little part of your bone marrow out. That's the part of your body that makes the blood.” Matthew looked at him and blinked. “When you were asleep in here, they took that bone marrow and examined it in a laboratory, and they've been able to find out why your sick and not feeling great.”

“Why?”

Harry's eyes welled. “Matthew, you have a really bad disease in your blood, and—“ Harry began to cry and he found the lump in his throat had grown so large that he couldn't continue. Dr. Powers walked forward and patted him on the shoulder. He finished explaining to Matthew what was wrong with him.

“Matthew, do you know what a battle is?”

Matthew nodded proudly. “My daddy was a hero of battle.”

Dr. Powers smiled. “Yes, I know. I know this may be hard to understand, but there's a battle going on inside your body, in your bloodstream. Something bad has developed, and some of your blood is trying to fight it, but it's really hard. As a result, you're getting sick. The blood that's fighting cannot win on its own and—“

“What would happen if it didn't win?”

Dr. Powers was startled. “Well, I, uh… You'd die Matthew.”

“Like Crookshanks?”

Hermione burst into tears, and Matthew had his answer.

Dr. Powers continued. “Anyways, we are going to help you win that battle by a process called chemotherapy.”

“Chemotherapy,” Matthew repeated slowly.

“Yes. It will make you feel really sick and really weak, but you've got to be as brave as you were earlier.”

Matthew nodded. “So what's this called?”

“Leukemia.”

“Loo-Ky-Mee-ah?”

“No, Luke-ee-me-ah.”

“Luke-ee-me-ah.”

“Yes, exactly. Now, I have some really important people to introduce you to! There are five people who are going through the same things you'll be going through. As you come to the hospital for your treatments, you'll get to know these people and they'll help you out when you're feeling bad. Are you feeling good enough to go meet them?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Good. I'll let your parents help you get dressed and then I'll meet you guys on the third floor, room 316.”

The doctor left, and Harry and Hermione set to work dressing their son. Hermione found her voice and shattered the silence that was lying over them, thick as sheep's wool.

“Matthew, are you scared?”

“Nah. I'll be alright in a few days.”

Hermione looked at her husband over Matthew's head. He knew he was sick, but he didn't know the severity of the situation. She knelt down to him and hugged him tightly. “Baby, this will take more than a few weeks. Tell me, how old are you?”

He held up three fingers.

“Exactly. You probably won't be 100% well again until the time you've been alive is repeated.” His mouth dropped. “I know, it's a really long time. I just needed to warn you. This is going to be hard for you, for all of us.”

Matthew was silent as they walked to room 316. He was still hurting a bit, so Harry carried him firmly down the long hallways. They walked into the room and found several people sitting in comfy chairs around the walls. Dr. Powers was standing by the door, waiting for Matthew. He stepped forward and greeted Matthew.

“Ah, here he is! I'd like you all to meet Matthew Potter!” Matthew waved shyly. “Will you all please introduce yourselves, starting with Jerrod. Jerrod, tell Matthew a little bit about yourself!”

A boy on the left side of the room waved to Matthew from a large blue chair. Matthew was appalled at his small, sickly appearance. He was completely bald, a thing that scared Matthew more than anything else, as he had never met a completely bald person. Jerrod spoke, and his voice sounded tired and weak.

“Hey, Matt. I'm Jerrod Ewens, 8 years old. I've been receiving treatments for brain cancer for a little over a year.” He motioned to a small girl to his left. “This is Missy Lyn, she's two and barely talks. She has just recently been diagnosed with sarcoma cancer.”

The pale blue-eyed girl with blond pigtails watched Matthew nervously. A partially bald boy sat beside her.

“Hi,” he said. “I'm Keith, and I'm five. I have Wilms' Tumor, a cancer that hurts my kidneys. I've been here for a long long long time.”

The boy in the corner chuckled. “No, you haven't Keith. I've been here the longest, and you know it.” All the children looked to the last boy, almost as if he was their leader. He was very tall from Matthew's vantage point, with a nice smile and bright green eyes. He wasn't bald, but you could see that his hair was growing back in patches. His eyes twinkled with an intense brightness, signs of hope in those beautiful eyes, a hope that was not living in the other three children. He stood up and extended his hand to Matthew.

“Nice to meet you, Matthew. The name's Jeremiah. Pleased to meet you, mate.”

Matthew smiled. He liked this guy. “Hello.”

“I'm really excited to meet you.”

Matthew was shocked. “Me?”

Jeremiah nodded. “I can tell that you're a lot like me when I was a kid.”

“Did you have Luke-ee-me-ah?”

Jeremiah smiled. “Yes, actually. I'm the only one here other than yourself who has leukemia. I got it when I was 12; now I'm 15. I haven't had chemo in a few months, but I just couldn't stop coming to hang out with these guys!”

The other children looked at him in surprise. They tossed back light conversation for a while, until Matthew felt his eyes begin to droop. Hermione cleared her throat for an interruption.

“It's been lovely meeting you all, but we should really be getting home. Matthew's had a really long day.” She turned to Matthew. “Say goodbye, sweetie.”

Matthew waved to Jeremiah. “Goodbye.”

Jeremiah smiled. “I'll be seeing you soon, mate. Get some rest and hopefully you'll feel a little better tomorrow!”

Matthew nodded and walked out with Hermione. Harry stood in the room, not knowing what to say.

“Thank you, guys, all of you. I'm sure seeing you guys will help Matthew a lot.”

Choked with emotion, he left to join Hermione and Matthew.

***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** *****

When they got home, dusk had come. Matthew was very tired for such a little guy, and his parents hastily put him to bed to allow their sweet son to get rest from his horrific day. Poor little Matthew was asleep almost as soon as his head touched the pillow. Hermione and Harry watched him noiselessly for a few moments before leaving his room.

They walked to the dining room where Hermione shakily conjured up two cups of tea. Harry went to the fireplace and grabbed some floo powder from the flowerpot. Hermione looked at him questioningly.

“I'm sorry, `Mione, but we've got to tell them somehow.” He threw the fine, chalky powder into the fireplace and called the names of their friends. A few moments later, Ginny and Neville emerged from their fireplace, followed by Ron and Luna. They dusted themselves off before looking at Harry.

“Hey, Harr—“ Ron started. “Harry, oh my gosh, what's wrong?”

Harry smiled weakly. “Come on into the kitchen. Hermione will conjure up some more tea. We need to talk to you guys about something.” Ginny and Neville looked at him curiously and Luna patted Harry on the shoulder. They all followed him to the kitchen where Hermione was already seated at the table, her eyes rimmed with red. Ginny rushed to her and placed her hand over Hermione's minute one.

“Babe, what's wrong?” Hermione shook her head. Harry sighed and sat down, ruffling his hair with his left hand. Their friends watched them concernedly. Harry took a sigh before telling them the tragic news.

“We took Matthew to the doctor today.”

Luna interrupted. “Oh, good! That means he's all right! Those wizard doctors can heal anything! I remember--”

“They can't help him,” Harry spoke roughly. Everyone at the table gasped.

Ron looked pale beneath his fiery hair. “What do you mean, they can't help him?”

“They couldn't do anything. We're taking him to a muggle doctor. They were able to diagnose what's wrong with him.” He looked down at the table, unable to divert his attention from the old paint spot on the wood. Hermione sat up, determined to finish for Harry.

“Matthew has leukemia.”

The four friends blinked at Hermione, clueless. She looked at Harry, aghast that they didn't have the effect she had imagined. Harry looked at her and began to explain to his friends what was occurring in the body of their precious little boy. Several cups of coffee later, The Weasleys and Longbottoms were staring at the Potters in amazement.

“Wow,” said Ginny. “Wow, guys, I'm really sorry. What can we do for you all?”

Hermione shook her curls. “Nothing right now. Thanks for listening.”

Neville nodded. “No problem. We're here if you guys ever need us, but I think we'll go on and go home so you guys can rest up.” He paused for a moment. “We love you guys.” He gave Hermione and Harry quick little hugs, followed by the rest of the group. They said their goodbyes and jumped into the fireplaces to return to their normal, cancer-free households.

Harry and Hermione watched them go. When they were gone Hermione wrapped her arms around Harry and began to cry. She felt so petty, crying so hard that they had found out what was wrong with Matthew, but her feelings flew away when she felt Harry's hot tears touch her hair. He led them to their bedroom and laid down on the huge feather bed, allowing Hermione to lean into him and cry her heart out. They held each other and comforted each other as their tears flew hot then cold, until they had cried themselves out.

“I just feel like an unfit father,” Harry said with tears in his voice. Hermione reached up and stroked his soft hair.

“Harry, you're the best father I've ever seen. Nobody could have known how sick he was. I just feel so bad because I'm supposed to be the all-knowing, all-healing mother, and I'm helpless to do anything to ease the pain and fatigue he will have constantly for the next year or more. And Dr. Powers never did tell us if they could fully get it all or not. Oh, Harry! I'm so scared!”

Harry sniffed back his tears. “I know, I am too. In my mind, I imagined that we'd go to the doctor and he'd find that nothing was wrong with him, and we'd come home and take another spin on the Firebolt, and everything would be perfect. So much for that.”

“Yes,” said Hermione, thinking of their friends. She had a feeling that they would grow farther away from them than ever before. “So much for that.”

-->

Chapter 5

Chemotherapy

The two days between Matthew's diagnosis and his first chemotherapy treatment were the family's last days of quiet peace. Harry took Matthew on two more mini-flights and Hermione made sure to have a huge batch of warm, gooey chocolate chip cookies waiting for him when they landed. Matthew wasn't worried in the least about his illness; it hadn't really affected him yet, but his parents were carefully concealing their parental concerns by trying their hardest to make everything seem normal.

As hard as they tried to stop time, however, it just kept going on. Sunday morning arrived with a sky of gray that mirrored Harry's emotions. The family got back into the little yellow SUV and drove back to the hospital. Matthew sang along loudly and off pitch to Radio Disney, unaware that he was sick and would be going through a treatment today that he would grow to hate.

When they pulled into the children's center, Harry slowly unbuckled his seatbelt, not wanting to have to take his only son back into that building where so many painful things had already occurred. Hermione looked at Harry knowingly and placed her thin hand on his leg, making his muscles twitch. She gave a reassuring smile, telling him with her eyes that they had to get this day over with. Harry sighed and got out of the car to get Matthew out of his little car seat. Hermione picked Matthew up and carried him into the building, not because he was being stubborn or was sick, but because she wanted to hold him close to her.

They made their way into the building and greeted the receptionist they had met three days earlier.

“Hello again, Mr. Potter, Mrs. Potter. What can I do for you guys today?”

“Hi! We'll probably be seeing a lot of you, because Matthew's here today for his very first chemotherapy treatment.” Harry spoke cheerily, wanting to be positive in front of Matthew. The receptionist lowered her eyes to the computer screen.

“Oh, yes. Here is Matthew!” She clicked on a link to bring up the necessary information. “Yes. Matthew Potter's treatment will take place in room 707 in the research and treatment ward.

Hermione smiled. “Thank you very much. Come on, Matthew, Harry…” She led her family to the elevator and pushed the button to the floor they needed to access. They reached the Research and Treatment Ward and were led by a cheerful nurse to Room 707. She checked his blood pressure and other necessary things before placing him on the soft hospital bed. She left a hospital gown and instructed Hermione to dress him. She helped him get his clothes off and put the little gown over his naked body.

When Matthew was comfortably seated on the hospital bed, Dr. Powers came in.

“Hey, Matthew! How are you doing, buddy?”

Matthew shrugged. “Okay.”

“Good!” Dr. Powers put the stethoscope in his ears and listened to Matthew's heartbeat and his breathing. He finished and turned to Harry and Hermione. “Since this is going to be his first chemotherapy treatment, we're going to give him the treatment and then keep him in the hospital overnight to make sure that the dosage we are going to give him doesn't hurt him.” Hermione paled at his words but nodded in agreement. “Here in a few moments, one of our specialized treatment doctors will come in and get Matthew here hooked up to the treatment. She'll stay in here for a little while to make sure everything's okay.”

Harry nodded. “Thank you so much, Dr. Powers.” The doctor smiled and walked out of the small, dark hospital room. A quarter of an hour later, a pretty middle-aged doctor came into the room with a bag of yellowish substances in her gloved hands. She smiled at the family and hung up the bag on the IV pole.

“Hello,” she extended her hand to Hermione and Harry, who both shook it vigorously. “I'm Dr. Regina Bryant. I'll be Matthew's treatment doctor.” She turned to the bed where Matthew was sitting up in, white and scared. “You must be Matthew! It's nice to meet you! Tell me, how old are you, dear?”

“I'm three.”

“Wow!” The doctor smiled. “You're a big boy! I have a son that's your age.”

“Does he have luke-ee-me-ah?”

Dr. Bryant shook her head, tossing her light brown curls around her face. “No, he doesn't, but you do, and we're going to try to help you. What we're going to do is hook you up to this IV and have the liquid in the bag drip down and enter your blood. After this treatment is over, I'm going to keep you here overnight to make sure you're okay. Are you ready, babe?”

Matthew whimpered. “No. Do I have to?”

Hermione's eyes filled with tears. It just wasn't right that her son had to do something like this! He was only three years old, and a large portion of his childhood would be taken away by this stupid illness that had crept upon them all, seeping through his veins and being spread throughout his little body by the pumping of his heart. She knew that as he grew, he would learn about pain and fear and sickness instead of eating paste, using big pencils, and taking naps with his classmates in the afternoon. While other children his age frolicked and played, creating friendships that would last for life, Matthew would be alone in this same hospital, taking an unwanted treatment for a disease that had robbed him of life as he knew it.

As Hermione contemplated her son's situation, Dr. Regina injected the IV into Matthew's arm. He grimaced in pain, but refused to cry out, trying to be brave. The tears fell from Hermione's eyes as she saw his amazing courage and child-like innocence, knowing that he would experience more pain and sickness in the next three years than she had experienced in her whole life. He would overcome his fear of needles not by maturity but by experience; he would learn about death not from Crookshanks but by the death of others he would meet in the hospital. It was all too much, and Hermione couldn't stand to be in the room a moment longer.

She ran out of the room, not hearing Harry's questioning voice, asking her to wait. She went and sat in a chair by the elevator, willing her breathing to become steady again so that she could return to her precious son's room so that she could be his comforter, the one who would make everything all right.

As she sat there, trying to regain her composure, she heard the elevator ding open. She didn't think anything of it until she felt someone's presence beside her. She looked beside her and saw Jeremiah from the cancer support group. He looked at her and smiled.

“Hello, Mrs. Potter. Would you mind if I popped in and said hello to Matthew?”

Hermione was flabbergasted. “Sure. But, I, are you here for a doctor's visit or something?”

Jeremiah shook his head. “No. I just wanted to be here to support Matthew and help him get through this. I know better than the rest of the group how painful and hard chemo is on leukemia patients.”

“Why did you come here?”

Jeremiah shrugged and stuck his hands in his pockets. “Matthew seems to be a lot like myself. When I was in chemotherapy, I had an older kid who had gone through it, too. He came and just sat with me during my treatments and kept me company. He gave me a lot of courage to keep fighting.” He paused, reminiscing over some past event. “I want to help him beat this, and I want him to get out of here and be able to live his life to the extreme. He hasn't really gotten to live yet, and I want him to walk out of here cancer free.”

Hermione smiled, and nodded to Jeremiah, as a strong feeling of respect for him welled in her chest. “He'd love to see you; he just got hooked up to the treatment. I'll take you to his room.”

They walked off towards the hallway. Hermione turned to Jeremiah and began a conversation. “Are you in remission, Jeremiah?”

Jeremiah gave a brilliant grin and shrugged. “Not officially yet, but I haven't had chemo in a few months, and I've been feeling okay. In a few weeks I'll have a check-up by Dr. P and I'll find out for sure. Then I'll come in for a check-up every 6-8 months to make sure everything's okay.”

“That's really amazing.”

“Thanks. I just want to become completely cancer-free for Isaac.”

“Isaac?”

“Isaac, the guy who gave me the courage to go on through my treatments.”

“Oh.”

Jeremiah grew silent and said no more until they reached Matthew's room. He rapped sharply on the door with his fist and entered the room. Dr. Regina was standing by Matthew's bed, checking a status on the electronic board. She turned and saw Jeremiah standing behind her. She gave him a huge hug and a chuckle.

“What brings you here, Jeremiah? You want some more chemo?”

Jeremiah grimaced. “That's all right. I just came to see Matthew.” He walked over to the bed and smiled. “Hello. Remember me?”

“Jeremiah.”

“Yup. And I've come to keep you company while this mean old lady gives you treatment.” Matthew giggled. Dr. Regina sighed and hit Jeremiah on the back with her papers.

“I'll pretend I didn't hear that, but only because you're my favorite patient.” She looked at him fondly, treating him like a son. “Jeremiah, dear, will you hold the fort down here for just a minute? I need to have a word with Mr. and Mrs. Potter.”

“Sure. When you return, all walls will be destroyed by crayons, the chemo will be knocked over into the wall, and the bedpan will be emptied out all over the floor.” Dr. Regina tried to hit him again with the papers, but he ducked with a grin. She smiled and led Harry and Hermione down the hall into her little office. They took seats in two bright red chairs that sat nestled in front of her desk. She sat at the desk and pulled on a pair of black-rimmed glasses.

“Well, your son is in the process of his first treatment.”

“Doctor,” Harry said. “Can you tell us how successful you think his overall treatment will be?”

The glasses came off and she touched the corner of her mouth with the earpiece. “I'm going to be completely honest with you, things don't look completely good right now. From Dr. Powers's records, we've caught this really late, and he's so young that we can't give him too much of the chemotherapy. Truthfully, I'd say that the chance that we completely obliviate the cancer is about 10-25% positive.” Hermione hiccupped and Harry's hand flew to his forehead.

“So is there no hope that our son will survive?” Harry's heart stopped with uncertainty, not really knowing if he wanted to know the doctor's answer

“Well, there's always hope. Miracles occur. Statistics change. Your son is a very brave little kid. I know things may seem hopeless, but never give up hope, for you never know what will happen. I just had to tell you the statistics. I'm sorry.”

Harry nodded and tried to speak, but his voice gave way. He took Hermione's hand and led her away; she was in slight shock and was unable to walk without his arm around her. He led her to a small area beside Matthew's room and looked down into her still eyes.

“Oh, `Mione,” he breathed into her hair. “I know that was horrible, but we've got to stay strong. That's are little boy in there, that miraculous little boy who exists because of you and me together. We've got to stay strong and get him through this, until he goes into remission. Cause so help me, he will survive, I'll do everything in my powers to save him. Will you stand strong with me?”

Hermione's eyes stared listlessly at the logo on Harry's shirt. Her eyes slowly traveled from his shirt to his piercing eyes. She nodded and wiped the tears from her husband's eyes to show her bind. He nodded and did the same motion to her.

“Come on,” she said. “We better go make sure that Jeremiah and Matthew haven't destroyed the room.” Harry smiled weakly and took her hand tightly in his own. They made their way back to Matthew's hospital room, hand in hand.

Back in the room, Matthew was listening wide eyed as Jeremiah told some ravishing story of danger and courage. He appeared to not even notice the IV in his arm; his attention was completely fixed on Jeremiah as he made huge hand motions to demonstrate his story.

“The brake on the wheelchair was broken, so I had to jump out of it before I reached the staircase. I flew headfirst into the wall, and, man, that created a huge bruise. All the doctors came running towards me, but instead of checking to make sure I was okay, they picked me up and took me right back to treatment.”

Matthew laughed so hard that Jeremiah couldn't help joining in. They laughed together for quite a while before Matthew realized that Harry and Hermione were in his doorway.

“Hello Mommy, Daddy!”

“Glad to see Jeremiah's keeping you entertained!” Hermione said. She walked across the room and sat on the other side of Matthew's bed. “How are you feeling, sweet?”

Matthew shrugged and leaned back onto his pillow. “Okay, I guess. How much longer do I have to do this?”

Hermione checked her watch. “About another hour. Are you going to be okay?”

“Y-Y-Yeah,” Matthew said as a huge yawn erupted from his mouth. “I'm sleepy.”

Jeremiah patted Matthew's shoulders. “I'll leave so you can get some sleep. Hope you get rested up.”

Matthew nodded as his head lolled. “Bye, Jeremiah.”

“See you on Thursday, Matt.” He walked casually to the door. “Goodbye, Mr. Powers, Mrs.”

Harry shook his hand. “Thank you for coming. And please, call us Harry and Hermione.”

Jeremiah nodded. “All right. Goodbye, Harry, Hermione…”

By the time he left, Matthew was already asleep, his small body rested up against the huge pillow on the reclining bed.

***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** *****

That first night in the hospital was not a good night for poor Matthew. He woke up from his sleep at about five p.m. The IV was gone, but he felt very dizzy and nauseous. The world spun around his bed. He wanted to make a dash for the bathroom, but he was to weak to pull back the soft blankets from the bed. He heard his mother's voice saying his name, but it seemed too far away to reach her. For a moment, he thought that he was looking up into a mirror, but then he realized the eyes were greener than his and that it was his father's face, not his that he saw. Matthew tried to sit up slowly, but the world around him spun faster. He tried to open his mouth to cry out, but ended up retching all over his bed. Tired and weak, he collapsed back onto the pillow and closed his eyes, hoping to return to sleep and escape from the awful feeling he felt.

Matthew woke up at least four more times that night, getting dizzy and retching, but as the night went on, his head began to clear, and when he awoke the fifth time, the room didn't spin. He blinked to make sure he wasn't imagining things and saw his father asleep on the armchair, his mother nestled in his lap.

“M-Mommy?” Matthew whispered hoarsely, his voice crackly from dehydration. Hermione heard his little voice and shot up immediately.

“Baby, you're awake!” She came to him and placed her cool hand on his face and kissed his forehead gently. “Oh, baby, are you feeling better than you did last night?”

Matthew nodded. “Did the chemo make me sick?”

Hermione sighed and stroked his hair. “Yes, dear, it did. Dr. Regina and Dr. Powers think they got the dosage too high for someone so little as yourself. The next time you have treatment, the dosage will be lowered a lot, and hopefully you won't get as sick.”

“You mean I have to do this again?”

“Yes, baby. I'm afraid you do.”

“But I don't wanna! It made me sick!”

“I know, baby, I know! But you've just got to be brave!”

Matthew sighed and leaned into Hermione's breast. “Sometimes I just don't feel like I want to be brave.”

Hermione didn't know what to say, so she just rocked him softly in her arms.

A/N: Does anybody know how often you take chemotherapy treatments? Please tell me if you do.

LKB09

-->

Chapter 6

Thursday Support Group 1

Matthew was released from the hospital on Tuesday morning, 24 hours later than he normally should have been because of the complications he had had with the chemotherapy. He was weak and tired, but his childish stamina kept him going on, pretending that nothing had happened to him and that nothing ever would. But despite his feeling of immortality, he was still too sick to do much other than stay inside and lounge around in an attempt to recuperate. His time spent in time felt like torture—after all, a three-year-old boy can only sit still for so long, and the beautiful, end-of-summer days were calling to Matthew, luring him to a promise of exercise and fun.

After doing next to nothing for a whole day, Hermione and Harry loaded Matthew up in the car and took him back to the hospital.

“Mommy, I don't want to get chemo!” Matthew's tormented cries came as he fought to escape from the car. “I don't wanna be brave today!” Harry looked in the backseat and ruffled Matthew's thick, black hair.

“We are going to the hospital, but you're not getting chemo today. It's Thursday; you'll get to see Jeremiah and all the other chemo kids! I promise, it'll be fun.”

“Promise I won't have chemo?”

“Not today, anyways.”

Matthew, satisfied with this answer, leaned back in his little car seat and looked out the window silently as they made their way to the hospital. They got out of the car, met the receptionist at the front desk, and found their way to the support group meeting room.

When they stepped in the room, they found only Jeremiah and the eight-year-old boy alone in the room.

“Hello,” Harry said. “Are we in the right place?”

Jeremiah stood up in respect and smiled. “Hey, guys. Matt's in the right place. The parents are in the next room. Don't worry, I'll take good care of him,” Jeremiah added, noting Hermione's look of motherly concern.

“All right. Be good, Matthew.”

“I will.” He hugged her legs and went to sit beside Jeremiah. When the Potter parents left, Jeremiah stood up and clapped his hands together.

“Okay, boys. Looks like it's just us three today. Missy Lyn is in chemo right now, and Keith wasn't able to make it today. Now, Matt, I just want to reintroduce you… this is Jerrod. Jerrod, this is Matt. He had his first chemo treatment two days ago, so now he knows what it's like for all of us.”

Jerrod grunted from his corner and crossed his arms. Matthew gave a little wave but put his hand down at Jerrod's glares. Jeremiah cleared his throat to break the awkward silence.

“So, Matt, do you mind if I call you Matt?”

Matthew shook his head.

“Great. I just have this weird thing where I always shorten everyone's names. Just ask Jer.”

“It's Jerrod, if you will,” growled Jerrod from the corner. Matthew's eyes grew wide and he scooted his chair closer to Jeremiah's. Jeremiah scowled and turned back to Matthew.

“So, Matt. How's your week been?”

“I hate chemo. It made me real sick. And now my mommy and daddy won't let me do anything because they say I'm too weak.”

“I'm sorry to hear that. But I will tell you something: I know that sometimes it might be hard, especially when you want to go play and run and be free, but your parents usually know best. You have been tired, no?”

“Yeah. I guess.”

“They're doing what's best for you. They want you to stay healthy for as long as they can, and they know that you'll tire yourself out too quickly.”

“I've never thought of it that way. I guess you're right.”

“Hard times are ahead, Matthew, but I have faith in you, faith that you can stay strong and beat this horrific disease. I remember how someone had faith in me, and because of that person's faith, I was determined to keep going, and now, here I am, almost in remission. That means my cancer's almost gone.”

“Oh.”

Jerrod sighed from the corner and Jeremiah turned to him. “What's wrong with you, J-Man?”

“Stop lying to the little guy.”

“What do you mean?”

“Here you stand, pretending like everything's all fine and dandy; life's a bushel of roses for you, isn't it? You're about to get a clean bill, and everything's completely perfect for all cancer kids.”

Jeremiah's face turned red, but he kept his cool. “You know that's not true.”

“Then why do you live life like it is? Why do you have to tell the kid that everything will be okay for him? Not all kids survive this, you know, heck, I really don't think any of us will survive this crap! But you just have to be all, `Oh, we're going to get through this because nothing bad could happen to the world!' Well, you know what? People die, Jeremiah.”

“You think I don't know that? I probably know that better than anyone! I had to watch my hero and only friend die to this disease, and that is why I try to keep people hopeful! Because I know this disease sucks, but we've got to join together to fight together!”

“Oh, I know that this disease sucks! I'm only a little younger than nine, and I know I'm going to die soon!”

“Don't say that, Jer…”

“No, Jeremiah, I'm serious. I'm dying.”

“What do you mean?” By this time, both boys had practically forgotten Matthew's presence.

“I'm dying,” Jerrod repeated, his voice calming down. “I had a checkup yesterday, and the doc told me that I've stopped responding to treatments. I knew that lately, I've been unable to concentrate and my headaches have been getting worse and worse. Come to find out, it's because the cancer is eating away at my brain, and it's never going to stop.” He paused for a second before speaking again, his voice full of anger and gusto. “It's just so freakin' unfair! I mean, just look at the kid! He's only three, for gosh sakes! And yet, he's stuck with this hell! I've had to go through the worst, and I know! He's still completely innocent, and he's already had to go through more than most kids his age will ever have to go through! Trust me, kid! If you have a single chance to go outside and just listen to the bugs chirp or watch the sunset, do it, because it's the only thing in life that is truly perfect! It is just wrong that we are forced to go through this, and that we will die! I don't care what you say, there is no hope for us, and no reason to keep on acting like everything will be okay!” Jerrod wiped the tears from his eyes and ran from the room, ignoring Jeremiah's traveling voice. He slammed the door behind him, and Jeremiah raised his hands over his head and groaned. He sat down beside Matthew and put his head in his hands.

Matthew looked to Jeremiah, his eyes wide and his heart pounding with fear. “J-Jeremiah?”

Jeremiah jerked up and looked at Matthew for a nanosecond until he closed his eyes in fury. “Oh, gosh, little man. I'm so sorry you had to see that.”

“I'm scared, Jeremiah.”

Jeremiah sighed and put his arm around the small boy. “Listen, normally Jerrod is a great guy, but he's just really upset right now. Have you ever had a pet or something die?”

Matthew nodded. “Crookshanks, our cat died of old age. It was scary.”

“I bet.” He nodded in agreement. “Just think of how scary it would be if you were the one that was dying.”

Matthew screwed his face in a mess trying to imagine, but finally gave up. “That's scary.”

“Yeah. I just hate that this had to happen to Jerrod, of all people.”

“Whaddya mean?”

Jeremiah stared at the wall with a funny look in his eyes. “He just…knew.”

“Knew what?”

He shook his head and turned to Matthew, the funny look gone from his eyes. “Nothing. So, when's your birthday?”

“June 18^th,” said Matthew, not even noticing the quick conversation change. “I just turned three.”

“Wow. That's really cool. My birthday's in 5 days.”

Matthew blinked. “So when is it?”

Jeremiah laughed. “June 30^th. Just another thing that's the same between us: both June bugs.”

Matthew laughed. “So what do you want for your birthday?”

“Remission. My hopefully final checkup is on the 29^th, and I hope to be in remission when I turn 16.”

Matthew smiled. “I hope you get your wish.”

Jeremiah just smiled and ruffled Matthew's hair, a motion that everyone seemed to always do when around him.

The two boys sat for a moment in contemplation before getting into a deep conversation about dinosaurs, crayons, and everything else under the sun. Harry and Hermione came in an hour or so later, to find their son and Jeremiah sitting on the floor and laughing so hard that tears rolled down their faces. And Harry, who had been so worried about Matthew, couldn't help but laugh, too.

A/N: So this chapter's a little bit shorter. Thanks to all those who replied to my chemo question last chapter. Please keep reading, I know this is quite emotional, but it will be worth it if you read to the ending.

Katie

-->

Chapter 7:

Celebration

Matthew's strength grew quite a lot over the next few days. He was still tired and a little weak, but his parents were glad for the first time that their son was unable to sit still for more than two and a half minutes. Matthew began to beg to be allowed to go outside, but Hermione and Harry didn't give him permission to fly until the fourth day.

“All right, all right, hold your hippogriffs!” Hermione smiled as Matthew gave his puppy-dog look of pleading. “Daddy will take you on a flight for a lap or two, but only a lap or two! We don't want you to get so tired that you won't be able to go to Jeremiah's party tomorrow.”

Matthew nodded. “Thanks, mommy! I love you!”

He hugged her legs tightly and twisted around before going over to Harry who was standing in the doorway, Quidditch Training clothes on his tall, lean body. He leaned down and grabbed Matthew in his arms.

“You ready for a flight, little man?”

Matthew nodded and breathed deeply into Harry's Quidditch robes. “Why you wearing your Quidditch robes?”

Harry shrugged. “I just felt like dressing up for today's flight. You can wear your robes that Uncle Ron got you, if you want.”

Matthew nodded and Harry took him upstairs to change into the little Puddlemere United robes that matched his retired father's. When they came back downstairs, Hermione couldn't help but smile at how cute Matthew was, but she sighed at Harry.

“Dear,” she whispered so Matthew couldn't hear as he examined a bug crawling on the earthen floor. “Don't get his hopes up too high. And please don't keep him out too long, and make sure that if he starts feeling bad you come down immediately, and…”

“Shhh,” Harry said, putting his finger to Hermione's lips. “I promise he'll be okay. Don't worry.” He picked Matthew up quickly. “Come on, son, let's go get in some flying!” He put Matthew so that he sat on his shoulders and carried him out to the Quidditch pitch. Matthew was very excited to be on a broomstick again, and Harry's heart was full to bursting at the squeals of joy that Matthew gave as they looped, dove, and breezed around the goalposts. They stayed out in the fresh air for almost an hour before Matthew started to lean back onto Harry's stomach.

“You tired, little man?” Matthew tried to shake his head, but a huge yawn erupted from his mouth. Harry smiled sadly. “That's what I thought. We better get you back inside so you can rest up.”

“Daddy!” Matthew moaned. “I'm tired of always having to rest up! I wanna run and play all the time!” Harry sighed and ruffled Matthew's black hair.

“I know you do, Matthew. I know. And I promise you that when you get completely well again, I'll take you flying as often as possible. We'll go camping in the woods over there, we'll build model planes, and I'll even build you a tree house. But you've got to get better, Matthew, because, well, I…” He wanted to tell his son that he couldn't live without him, but his words failed him. “You just really need to get better.”

Matthew nodded. “Okay, Daddy.”

Harry smiled and touched down on the ground. He picked Matthew up gently and took him back to the house where Matthew took off his Quidditch robes and promptly fell asleep.

***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** *****

The next morning dawned bright and beautiful for the Potter family. Hermione woke up early and stretched to wake up fully. Careful not to wake her husband, she quietly made her way downstairs to the kitchen to make a pot of coffee. As she reached the bottom stair, she heard a noise of movement in the kitchen and froze in her steps, her heart beating a heavy staccato on her breastbone. She walked stealthily towards the kitchen and turned the corner to find her son sitting at the table, tape and paper all around him. She sighed, laughing at her paranoia, and walked towards Matthew.

“Baby, what are you doing?” Matthew looked up, surprised.

“Wrapping Jeremiah's gift.”

“What?” Hermione walked towards him and flicked her wand, clearing up the abundant tape and conjuring up a cup of steaming coffee.

“I drew Jeremiah a picture.” He extracted a piece of paper from the pile on the table and handed it to Hermione for inspection. It was a rough childish drawing of a tall stick boy with black hair standing by a little black haired stick boy. They were smiling broadly and the sun was shining over their heads. Hermione smiled and handed it back to Matthew.

“It's lovely, dear.”

“Tell me how to write `Jeremiah, I hope you get remission.'”

Hermione said the letters slowly and Matthew scrawled them out in his childish letters. When he finished, Hermione smiled and helped him wrap it carefully in the bright red wrapping paper. As they finished their wrapping, Hermione looked up and saw Harry in the doorway in his boxers and sleep shirt, hair askew from his sleep.

“Good morning, sweet,” she said. He looked at her and blinked a bit, not very coherent in the early morning. Hermione walked across the kitchen and kissed him firmly on the lips while flicking into existence another cup of coffee. When she pulled away, Harry looked at her in admiration and took the steaming cup between his firm hands.

“What're you two doing up this early?”

Matthew hopped down from his seat and walked over to his daddy. “Mommy was wrapping Jeremiah's present for me. When are we leaving to go to the party?”

Harry placed the coffee on the counter. “We'll leave as soon as we're all ready. `Mione, you go ahead and get ready, I'll watch the kiddo.”

Hermione smiled and kissed her husband again. She was in very good spirits today, and she didn't know why. She just knew in her heart that good things were going to occur as the day went on. She left Harry and Matthew to eat breakfast in the kitchen and went upstairs to hers and Harry's bedroom to get ready. When she emerged much later, her hair up and dressed in comfortable clothing, she went downstairs again to find both Matthew and Harry dressed and ready, playing with Harry's model Quidditch pitch. When Hermione came in the room, Harry smiled and picked up Matthew. “Matthew, it's time to go. Mommy's got your present,” He added before Matthew could ask. “Are you sure you're feeling okay?”

“Mmhmm. Do we get to eat cake?”

Harry smiled. “Probably. Let's go.”

They loaded into the car once more and headed off towards the hospital. When they arrived in the cancer wing, Matthew was delighted to find an assortment of balloons and streamers settled in different places in the Thursday Meeting Room. As he stood transfixed by all the colors and fun stuff to play around with, he felt someone come up behind him.

“Hey, Matt.”

“JEREMIAH!” Matthew turned around and hugged Jeremiah's legs. “Happy birthday!”

Jeremiah laughed, showing his straight white teeth. “Thanks! I'm glad you're here!” When those words were out of his mouth, Harry walked up behind them. “Hello, Mr. Potter.”

“Hi, Jeremiah. Happy birthday, and please, call me Harry.”

“Thanks, Harry.” Harry smiled.

“Matthew, Mommy needs you. She's by the nurse's station.”

“'K.” He toddled off to his mother, leaving Harry and Jeremiah to watch him go. Harry turned to Jeremiah and smiled.

“I just want to thank you so much for caring about Matthew. You're practically all he can talk about. He wants to be `just like Jeremiah' when he's older.”

Jeremiah grinned and brushed his now-grown-back hair from his face. “I'm glad I can be there for him. He's just like me, and I can really relate to how he feels. I just hate that he's having to go through this so young.”

“Yeah, it's a shame. But hopefully we'll make it out of here okay.”

Jeremiah's eyes glazed over and he stuck his hands in his pockets. “Yeah, I'm praying that he gets out. Truthfully, I think he has a better chance of making it than anyone else.”

“Really?” The hope that Harry so desperately needed rose. “Why?”

Jeremiah shook his head and smiled. “I just do.”

Their conversation ceased as Hermione and Matthew came towards them. Hermione smiled and shook Jeremiah's hand. “Nice to see you again, Jeremiah.”

“You, too.” The smallest cancer child and an older lady came down the hall. Jeremiah knelt down to the girl's eye level. “Why, it's Missy Lyn and her grandmother! How are you, Missy Lyn?”

The little girl shrank behind her grandmother, peeping at Jeremiah in fear. Matthew was startled that she looked a lot sicker than she was when he had first met her. The long pigtails had been cut off and her hair now barely reached below her ears. Her grandmother sighed. “Missy Lyn, please talk when spoken to.”

The girl shook her head and Jeremiah shrugged before standing up. “We'll get her to talk someday. Anyways, let's go on in and sit down.” He led the little party into the room where a large table had been set up. Jeremiah sat down and motioned for Matthew to sit beside him. “Would you sit by me, Matt?”

Matthew looked up at Hermione. “Can I, Mommy?”

Hermione smiled. “Sure.” With Jeremiah's help he got into the incredibly tall seat and was startled when the girl named Missy Lyn sat in the chair on his other side. Matthew and the girl sat quietly, listening to everyone else talk as more people came in the small doorway. Keith and his family came in and exchanged greetings, and Matthew noticed that Keith didn't look like he felt too good. Dr. Regina and Dr. Powers came in next, both still in their doctor clothes. The last person to enter was Jerrod. He came in alone, looking as weak as he had the last time Matthew had seen him. Matthew lowered his eyes, remembering that Jerrod was dying and not wanting to stare at him. He sat quietly to Jeremiah's right and Jeremiah cleared his throat.

“Well, we're all here. Let's eat some cake!” Matthew's eyes lit up and he stood up in his chair in excitement. He was so small that his head just barely came up to Jeremiah's seated head. Dr. Regina grabbed a knife that was placed carefully on the table and began to cut pieces of cake for everyone. When everyone had been fed, Dr. Powers sighed and looked at Jeremiah.

“Would you like to open your presents?”

Jeremiah gave a devilish grin and opened his presents. He opened a CD or two, a polo shirt, a video game, and some miscellaneous things, but he opened Matthew's last. When he saw Matthew's drawing, he looked at it for a moment before his eyes clouded over. He looked to his left and hugged Matthew. “Thanks, Matt. That's really something special.” A moment of silence ensued before Jeremiah stood to speak.

“I have an announcement to make.” All rustling and fidgeting stopped. “As you all know, I've been in treatment for three years, fighting this thing. I've seen heroes and friends die, yet I was still here, sick. I always thought it was funny, because I never really thought I'd get through it. See, I'm just kinda convinced that you know whether or not you're going to survive this or not, and I really didn't think I was going to make it. Neither did my friends, neither did the doctor, neither did Aunt Regina…”

“You're his aunt?” Matthew piped up. Dr. Regina nodded. “I've raised him for the past 6 years.”

“Oh. Sorry, Jeremiah.”

“No problem, Matt. Anyways, when I saw all those people giving in to this disease, I swore that I would fight for all I was worth. And I am so, so blessed to be able to stand before you today and say, that despite a few check-ups every six months, I am free of this hospital as a patient.” He took a deep breath before smiling broadly. “I'm in remission, I survived.” There was a small moment of silence before the room erupted in cheers and applause. Matthew clapped harder than anyone else. Harry couldn't stop smiling. Matthew was just like Jeremiah, and Jeremiah had gotten through it!

Dr. Regina went to Jeremiah and hugged him tightly and kissed him on the cheek. As Matthew watched the joy on the faces of all in the room, he felt confident that he too would be in remission, that he too would survive. It was the greatest feeling ever.

A/N: So I know this chapter wasn't that long, but the next chapter will make up for this short one. Please r&r!

-->

Chapter 8:

Relay For Life

A/N: Okay, I don't know if there is a Relay for Life in England, but for this story's purposes, there is. Also, I've plotted my story out, chapter by chapter, and it looks like there's gonna be 25 chapters. Please don't give up on this yet; this story needs to be told!

Disclaimer: I don't own Relay for Life or Harry Potter.

The month of July passed without great occurrences. Matthew had two more chemo treatments, the first making him violently ill again and the second only making him tired and weak. He didn't bounce back to full health as he did previously; those two treatments left him weak and tired all month. Hermione knew that he hated the treatment, but he was very brave and didn't complain once. Jeremiah had come to be with him during both treatments, despite his clean bill of health. Harry and Hermione loved him and began thinking him as the son they had that was only nine years younger than they were.

One Thursday morning, a few days after Matthew's third chemo treatment, Hermione found several strands of Matthew's thick black hair on his pillow when she went upstairs to find his shoes. She picked it up gently as the tears filled her eyes. She sat on his little racecar bed for the longest time, holding his hair in her hand and crying, until Harry came into the room.

“'Mione, what's wrong?” He strode quickly across the room and sat beside her on their son's bed.

“H-His hair's falling out!” She wailed and dropped the small black hairs into Harry's outstretched hand. He closed his palm gently and rocked her softly to calm her down.

“Shh, `Mione, `Mione… You knew it had to happen eventually.”

“I know, but, OH!”

She leaned into his shoulder and continued crying. He sighed. “I know, it's horrible, but at least he has a Thursday meeting today.”

Hermione sighed and leaned away from her husband. “You're right. We need to go.” Harry wiped her tears away with a brush of his thumb before hugging her tightly. “I love you, `Mione, and we're going to get through this together, as a family.”

Hermione smiled and nodded. She placed her hand in Harry's upturned one and walked with him downstairs where Matthew was sitting listlessly at the table, staring at a box of cereal. He had been acting sickly ever since his chemo, and Hermione knew that he probably wouldn't feel up to par very often in the days to come.

“Come on, Matthew. Let's go.”

Matthew continued to stare at the cereal box. “Matthew?” No response.

Harry walked over to the table and took the cereal box away from the table. Matthew looked up at him curiously. “Daddy?”

Harry was confused. “Why didn't you answer your mother?”

“I didn't know she talked.”

“Are you okay?”

Matthew sighed. “My head feels all funny and I can't concen—conen—“

“Concentrate.” Hermione helped him. “We'll ask Dr. Powers to take a look at you, but we really need to get going.”

Matthew hopped off his chair and stood beside his mother, reaching up to take her hand. Hermione took his little hand and stroked the top of it softly with her fingers. Harry looked at his family for a moment before opening the door and leading his family back to their yellow SUV and heading once again to the hospital.

***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** *****

When the Potters went into the meeting room, Matthew was surprised to see the adults as well as the kids there. He went to join the kids in the corner while his parents went to the table. Harry pulled out Hermione's chair for her and they joined the other parents and adult family members at the table.

“Good, you're here!” Dr. Regina said with a smile.

Harry smiled. “Sorry we're late. We were having some, er, difficulties getting Matthew's attention this morning. Do you know what could be causing him to have no focus, concentration, or attention?”

Dr. Regina smiled sadly and nodded. “Yes. It's a very common thing that chemo patients get that's called `chemo head.' We really don't know what causes it, but the chemo sometimes makes things fuzzy for the patients.”

“Oh.”

“Now, we've all gathered here today to discuss this year's Relay for Life.” She paused for a moment as Harry and Hermione looked at her blankly. “Relay for Life is an event that celebrates life and raises money for cancer research. It lasts all night and is a walking event. We at the hospital always form a `cancer kids' team. Now, will everyone tell me if they would like to join the team and who would be joining?”

Missy Lyn's grandmother spoke up first. “Missy Lyn and I will be on the team.” Dr. Regina wrote their name down and looked to the next man at the table, obviously Keith's dad.

“Count me and Diane in; Keith, too.”

“All three of us would love to do it,” said Harry.

“And me and Jeremiah and David will do it.” Dr. Regina wrote. “David's my youngest son.”

The last person at the table looked at Dr. Regina wearily. “I guess Ill do it with Jerrod.”

Dr. Regina patted the lady's hand. “Listen, Jo; if it's too hard for you, you don't have to go…”

“No,” the lady said abruptly. “I'll do it. This may be the last time…” Her voice trailed off leaving an awkward silence that was punctuated by Matthew and Missy Lyn's childish laughter from the corner.

“All right, then!” Dr. Regina broke the silence. “Counting Dr. Powers, that's 14 of us! Great! I'll be giving you fundraising information soon, but first we need to discuss lumineras.”

“Lumineras are the greatest part of the night, in my opinion. They are paper bags that have names of survivors and victims, messages of hopes and thoughtful quotes. When it gets dark, the paper bags are placed over candles, and all the lights around the field are shut off for about half an hour. Everyone takes a memorial walk around the track before people are allowed to go see the lumineras and remember those who they've lost. It's very moving. Now, does anyone wish to purchase a luminera?” She distributed the packets and the meeting went on. After an hour or so, everyone began to leave. Harry and Hermione had stayed to talk to Dr. Regina, leaving Matthew and Jeremiah as the only two kids left. When they went to get Matthew, they found his little head drooped on Jeremiah's shoulder, fast asleep. Jeremiah was sitting very quietly, looking up only when Harry and Hermione came over.

“He's really tired, poor little guy,” he whispered. “Go on and take him, and tell him I said goodbye.” Harry nodded and took his sleeping son from Jeremiah's side.

“Thanks, Jeremiah.”

“No problem. He's a good kid.”

With those words, Jeremiah's eyes grew distant as they so often did.

***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** *****

On the evening of the Relay for Life event, the cancer kid team arrived at the park that it was being held at in the late afternoon. Dr. Regina, dressed in a relay shirt and shorts, led all 13 participants to the camping site, where they set up a tent and some coolers, placing 5 sleeping bags in the corner in case the patients got too worn out and needed to rest. The team sat around and talked for a while as a live band played some relaxing and fun music. Jeremiah was wearing a huge sombrero over his black hair and chuckled when Matthew took it off his head.

“This is a cool hat!” Matthew said. He put it on his head; it was so big that it fell over his nose.

Jeremiah smiled. “It looks great on you, Matt. But I don't think you should wear it while we're walking, because you won't be able to see where you're going.”

Matthew pushed the hat brim up and frowned. “Oh. `K, you win.”

Jeremiah laughed and plucked the hat with his right hand and plopped it back where it was supposed to be. “I need to get over to the starting line.”

“Can I come?”

“Oh, man, I'm sorry. The first lap is for survivors only.” Matthew cast his eyes downward. “Hey, listen! Whenever you are able to walk that first lap, I'll be right there with you the whole time, every step of the way. Deal?”

Matthew nodded. “Go on, they're calling you.”

Jeremiah walked to the starting line and all the cancer kids team lined up to watch him. When the starting gun went off, Jeremiah took a leap in front of all the other survivors and led the walk around the track. Dr. Regina groaned as she saw the huge sombrero, but grinned in spite of herself. Harry lifted Matthew up onto his shoulders so he could see properly. Jeremiah caught his eye and gave a huge thumbs up. Matthew began to clap.

“GO JEREMIAH!!!” The rest of the team cheered along with him until Jeremiah had crossed the finish line again. They all gave a huge shout and went to join Jeremiah and the other survivors. Matthew found Jeremiah in the throng and ran to him.

“That was so cool, Matt! I can't wait until I get to do it with you!”

Matthew smiled. “Won't be long.”

Jeremiah ruffled his hair and picked him up, placing him on his shoulders. “Let's do this lap in rehearsal of the victory lap we'll have together!” He began to take off on a run, leaving Matthew to grip tightly to his neck. He ran all the way around the track before jumping and twirling over the finish line. Excited from his run, he began to laugh until he was breathless. Not knowing why, Matthew laughed, too. As they laughed, Jerrod came over to them.

“Hey, you two. Dr. P has some hotdogs and hamburgers cooked whenever you're ready to eat.”

“Thanks, J-Man. Are you planning on walking a lot tonight?”

Jerrod smiled, a thing that Matthew had never seen. “Yeah. I probably won't be able to stay awake all night, but I have to be awake for the luminera ceremony.”

Jeremiah nodded as his eyes glazed over. “Yeah. This year's ceremony is going to be really special for me.” The three boys stood silently together for a moment before the adults of their team called for them to come eat. Once under the tent, Jeremiah sat between Jerrod and Matthew, all eating and talking merrily. The activities around them produced a party-like atmosphere and the excitement was everywhere. Jerrod even cracked a smile once or twice and joked around with Matthew. After eating, they got in a few more laps before Jerrod had to go rest. Matthew and Jeremiah continued to walk until the night fell and the loudspeaker announced that the luminera ceremony was about to start. Jeremiah picked Matthew up and carried him back to the tent.

“Listen, Matt. There's something I've got to do. Catch up with me in a but, okay?”

“'K.” As Jeremiah walked towards the course, the lights went out and a faint glow arose from the lumineras. Matthew gasped at how pretty it all was when he felt someone touch his head. He turned to find both of his parents standing with him.

“Come on, Matthew. Let's take this walk together.” The Potters joined hands and joined the other participants in walking silently around the track as those around them reminisced about people they had known. When everyone had completed the walk, people started to walk among the lumineras, searching for a family member, friend, or loved one's name. Matthew looked questioningly at his mother and she nodded.

“Go on; you can find Jeremiah. Your father and I are going to be walking around.” Matthew nodded obediently and went off through the rows of lumineras, searching for Jeremiah among the throng. As he walked, he saw Jerrod and his parents standing in front of a luminera. His parents were crying silently, but Jerrod, Jerrod didn't look like himself. The light that shone on his face softened his features. For a moment you didn't realize that he was bald, sick, or dying. He looked peaceful and almost happy. And for the first time, Matthew saw hope shining in his eyes. Matthew thought that he looked like an angel.

Jerrod turned and saw Matthew watching him, mouth agape. He touched his parents gently on the arms and walked over to Matthew.

“Promise me you will never forget me.”

Matthew nodded, not knowing what to say. He gave a little smile before running on down the row in search of Jeremiah. He passed a half dozen rows or more, each thinning out as he ran. Finally, on the last row, he found Jeremiah. He was kneeling on the ground in front of a solitary luminera, watching it as if he was scared it would up and fly away. Matthew walked carefully to him, not wanting to be a disturbance. As he walked, he accidentally kicked a stone, making Jeremiah's head pivot.

“Oh, I-I'm sorry…” Matthew began, but before he knew it, Jeremiah had wrapped him in a hug. He gave a sniffle and let him go, staring once again at the luminera.

“He was my best friend.” Jeremiah's voice had become funny and high-pitched.

“Um, what does it say?”

Jeremiah tried to smile, but his face became a twisted mess. “I'll Never Forget You, Hero, Example, Friend. I Miss You Bunches And Can't Wait To See You In Heaven.” Tears filled his eyes and he choked for a moment before continuing. “In Loving Memory of Isaac James Elliot.”

“Oh,” said Matthew. “He was your…” Everything made sense now, and Matthew chose to not finish his sentence. Isaac was to Jeremiah what Jeremiah was to him, but Isaac had died. Matthew's heart felt heavy as he realized how hurt Jeremiah must feel. Jeremiah cleared his throat and put his hand into his pocket. He pulled out a toy hotrod.

“He always wanted to get a car like this when he got into remission. He would always tell me about how he'd drive me around everywhere. He went away a year ago, and he never got the chance.” His voice cracked again as fresh tears flowed. “I just hope he knows that I tried my hardest to make his car dreams come true.” He took the car and placed it beside the luminera, touching it softly before pulling away his hand. “Rest in peace, Isaac.” He turned to walk away, leaving Matthew where he sat. Matthew sat, transfixed at the glowing bag in front of him. Isaac, the same one who had given Jeremiah all his hope, had died of the same disease that Matthew was fighting. As the thoughts ran through his head, a part of his childish innocence was stripped away, leaving him with the cruel knowledge that people with leukemia died.

He stared at the luminera for a long time before Hermione came up behind him. “Matthew, babe? Are you okay?”

Matthew nodded.

“Are you tired?”

Matthew nodded again and Hermione gave a motherly smile. “I'll take you back to the tent and you can go to sleep.” He reached up to link his arms around her neck and pretended to fall asleep as she carried him away; he didn't feel like talking. Hermione took him underneath the tent and placed him carefully in a sleeping bag that was beside the already sleeping Missy Lyn and Keith. She pulled off his little shoes before zipping up the bag and kissing him softly on the forehead. She stroked his hair for a moment before leaving the tent and going into the fresh night air.

Instead of sleeping, Matthew rolled over onto his back and looked at the soft starlight through the canopy of the tent. He tried to sleep, but every time that he closed his eyes, he saw Jeremiah's tears and Jerrod's glowing face; two things that tormented his brain until fatigue finally took over.

-->

Chapter 9:

Foreseen Loss

A week later, in the first month of September, Matthew went to the hospital yet again for another chemo treatment. He had come to a point where he no longer complained about his treatment: he knew now that he really had no choice in the matter. Dr. Regina hooked him up as usual and let the chemotherapy seep into his body as he sat calmly on the bed. His fear of needles was almost gone, because of the ever-present bruise the IV left on his arm.

That day, as Dr. Regina checked all of Matthew's vital signs and went through the typical procedures, Matthew sat very silently. She smiled down at him and placed her hand on his forehead.

“You okay, kiddo?” By now, his hair had been falling out more frequently, leaving little bald spots in various areas. Matthew looked at the doctor and frowned.

“Where is Jeremiah? He's not here, and he's always here with me.”

Dr. Regina sighed and her face fell. “He may be here in a little while.”

“Where is he?”

“I'll let him explain that to you.”

“But—“

“If you need anything, don't be afraid to call me.” She put the chart on his door and walked out, leaving Matthew and his parents alone in the room. Harry smiled at Matthew reassuringly and went to sit on the windowsill to read the newspaper. Hermione pulled a book out of her purse and flipped to the right page. Both knew that Matthew didn't want to talk beyond asking where Jeremiah was.

Without Jeremiah staying with him and goofing off, the day's chemo seemed extra long. After about 45 minutes that seemed like an eternity, Hermione went downstairs to stretch and move about. When she left, Harry's head nodded off onto the windowpane and his gentle snores reverberated throughout the room. Matthew sighed and tried to flop over, wincing with pain as the IV dug into his skin. He looked up at the ceiling and examined the crack that had the habit of looking like a rabbit. He looked at the picturesque park scene that was hung on the wall. The picture reminded him of Relay for Life and how he had seen Jeremiah crying over Isaac's luminera. But where was he today? He turned his attention to the monitor by his bed and watched it bleep and blip in time to the little whirring dots. The dots made him sleepy, and right as he began to nod off…

A knock came at the door. Matthew sat up quickly to see Jeremiah standing in the doorway. Matthew grinned but sobered up when he saw that Jeremiah's eyes were red and puffy.

“Hey, Matt.”

“Jeremiah, what's wrong?” Matthew stood up on his bed, so small that his IV didn't even stretch. Jeremiah looked at him and smiled feebly. He took his usual seat and sat down thickly watching Matthew carefully. Matthew blinked, not knowing if he should speak. Finally, Jeremiah sighed and joined his hands together.

“Matt, do you believe in angels?” Matthew nodded, thinking that this was a very funny question. Jeremiah smiled, and continued.

“I do, too. Do you know what angels are?”

“They're God's people and messengers, sent to watch over people.”

“Yeah, pretty much. But there's one other thing that I believe angels do.”

“What?”

“They come down from heaven and take those whose earthly bodies are tired and worn out home to their heavenly father.”

Matthew thought for a moment, imagining a sick, old person being carried up to heaven with a shining escort. Jeremiah cleared his throat and spoke.

“The angels came to the hospital this morning, and they took Jerrod away from us.”

Matthew's heart beat faster. “W-What are you talking about?”

“I'm sorry, Matt, I didn't want to tell you. Jerrod died; he's gone.”

Matthew's face fell and he riveted his eyes to the park picture on the wall and remembered the Relay for Life.

“At the Relay for Life, I saw Jerrod during the luminera ceremony. He—he looked like an angel, the way the light glowed on him. Maybe he already had one by his side. Do you think he did?”

Jeremiah smiled a genuine smile and nodded. “I think you may be on to something.”

They sat for a few moments in silence before Matthew spoke up again. “You said he knew. What did he know?”

Jeremiah's eyes glazed over as they often did and when he spoke, the voice did not seem like his own.

“Jerrod always knew he was going to die.”

“How?”

“I, well, I can't explain it, but every patient I've ever met just knows when they begin treatments. When Jerrod first walked into Thursday meetings, he told me that he just knew he wasn't going to make it. He swore to keep fighting, but he knew in his heart that he was fighting a losing battle.”

“Do all patients know?”

“Yes, I think every patient knows if they'll survive or not. But sometimes they just have to be wrong!” He slammed his fist on the armrest of his chair. Matthew jumped, frightened by the sudden outburst. He sat up straight as possible and looked at Jeremiah.

“I think I know what you're talkin' about. I know I'm gonna make it. I never thought any other way!”

Jeremiah looked at him and shrugged. “I hope you're correct.” And then his eyes glazed over again.

***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** *****

Jerrod's funeral was that Friday afternoon. Harry and Hermione dressed Matthew in his nicest clothing and drove to the funeral home. Matthew was terrified of the funeral, scared of the unknown. He had never really gotten to know Jerrod, but he had promised him that he would never forget at the Relay for Life, and after his parents talked with Jeremiah, they decided it would be good for Matthew to go to say goodbye.

When they entered the chapel, Matthew was surprised at how few people were there. On the left side of the church sat some older people; obviously friends of Jerrod's parents. To the right were some kids older than Matthew, all with bowed and solemn heads. Near the front of the cathedral sat Jeremiah, dressed neatly in a tuxedo, his hair neat and combed. The Potters found a seat near the back and were soon joined by Missy Lyn and her grandmother and Keith and his parents. Matthew was glad to see that he wasn't the only scared one in the audience; Missy Lyn looked scared to death. All the cancer kids sat quietly and reverently in waiting as slow, mournful music played around their ears. Matthew tried unsuccessfully to look anywhere but the big box up front; his parents had told him gently that Jerrod's earthly body was in there.

The backdoors opened and Jerrod's family walked in. Everybody stood up in respect but Matthew and Missy Lyn looked at each other in bewilderment. Hermione leaned over and picked up Matthew and held him to her, allowing him to snuggle his head into her breast. When the family sat, the preacher stood up and began to speak. His voice was very monotonous and Matthew found himself feeling bored. He examined the church's interior intently until he heard the preacher say Jeremiah's name. Matthew perked up curiously and stood on the pew to see his friend better. Hermione tried to get him to sit down, but he was so small that it hardly made any difference.

Jeremiah stood at the podium and appeared, surprisingly, nervous. He pulled a piece of paper from his coat pocket and cleared his throat before speaking into the microphone.

“Good afternoon, everyone. It is a privilege to speak to you today, I just wish it was under better circumstances.” A lady sobbed in the audience. “We are all here today to remember the wonderful but short life of Jerrod. Jerrod was a great guy, for an eight year old.” The audience laughed at Jeremiah's smile. “He was with us only for a time, but he has impacted the lives of all he met. He got diagnosed with brain cancer about a year ago, but that didn't stop him from living his life. He liked to ride bikes. Watch movies. Eat cake. But the one thing he loved more than anything else was when he got the chance to go lie in the grass and watch the stars move above him. He would lie there for hours, just watching the sky, studying everything until he knew the heavens like the back of his hand. He even took me on the hospital roof one time and showed me the glory that he wanted to be a part of.

“The night that Jerrod passed on, I went up to the roof and looked at the stars, and to my surprise, there was a new star shining right above my head. And as I watched it, it began to twinkle slightly, and I knew. In my mind, I knew that that star had to be Jerrod. He was sitting in heaven, watching me from the glory he is finally a part of.

“I know that from this side, we don't really know why Jerrod was taken so young in his life, why he never got to live a full life. But I know one thing for sure: Jerrod's still with us, in every life that he impacted. And if he were here, he'd tell us to stop crying for him, because he's up there, dancing with the angels.” Jeremiah looked briefly at Matthew, gave a little nod, and sat back down. Matthew was in awe of Jeremiah's speech, and stayed glued to the pew until the service was over.

***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** ***** *****

That night, after Harry and Hermione had settled in their bed for the night, Harry lay wide-awake, staring at the ceiling. The funeral was still playing fresh in his mind, and it was a heart wrenching realization to see a little kid die. He rolled over in bed, trying to get sleep. After a while, he gave up and leaned into Hermione's warm, sleeping body. He thought about Matthew, and how much he loved the little guy. He remembered how he had been in the delivery room when Matthew was born, how the second he caught sight of his son, he was hopelessly in love. He loved Hermione with all his heart, but the love he felt for Matthew was deeper and stronger than any of the incredible love he had for Hermione. The little guy was a piece of him, a piece of Hermione, a breath of heaven. He just couldn't imagine what he would do if anything happened to him.

As he thought about his son, he heard the bedroom door creak open. He sat up and fumbled for his glasses.

“Daddy?”

“Matthew? What are you doing awake?”

“Will you take me outside to look at the stars?” His quiet voice reached Harry's ears clear and perfect. He ruffled his hair and stepped out of his bed, careful not to wake his lovely wife.

“Sure. Let's go.” He picked Matthew up and cradled him and led him outside. He levitated them up onto the roof and laid him down gently. Harry lay down beside him, thankful for the countryside they lived in and the brilliantly starry sky. Father and son watched the stars intently, marveling in the beautiful wonder of God's creation.

“Daddy?” Matthew spoke up. “I know I'm gonna make it.”

Harry's heart swelled at Matthew's words; this was what he wanted to hear. But just as quickly, his heart deflated.

“Oh, Matthew, you can't possibly know.”

“Yeah I can.”

“How, then?”

“I dunno. I just know.”

More silence ensued.

“Daddy?”

“What is it this time, little man?”

“I love you.”

Harry's eyes watered and he pulled Matthew close to him. “I love you, too, son. So, so much.” Matthew curled up by Harry's side and they continued to watch the stars, late into the night.

-->

Chapter 10:

An Outing and a Surprise

A/N: Okay, so things are definitely going to be getting more emotional. Just a warning. This story is really important to me, though, so I'm gonna keep on keeping on. I saw a picture last weekend of the real Matthew when he first started having treatments for his cancer, and it was almost scary how much he looked like my descriptions. Remember, this is based off of a true story, and Matthew really lived.

Disclaimer: I don't own HP, and I don't own you, my dear Matthew, even though you have taken complete possession of something of mine.

Hermione awoke the next morning to an empty bed. Immediately her mother instinct kicked in and she jumped out of bed, knowing in her heart that Matthew was out of his bed and Harry wasn't with her. She went out to the kitchen and walked slowly into the den to find the patio door open. Hermione's heart leaped in her throat and she walked cautiously outside to find Harry fast asleep in the hammock with Matthew fast asleep on his stomach. A soft, fleece blanket was stretched across both of them. Hermione sighed, unable to get angry at such a cute picture. She walked over to the super large hammock and crawled into it beside Harry. He woke up and looked at her.

“Oops. Sorry we were out here all night.”

Hermione smiled and leaned onto his chest. “It's okay,” she whispered. Matthew rolled over onto Hermione's stomach, leaving debris of hair behind on Harry's chest. Hermione sighed and took his hair gingerly, her heart breaking at the fact that his hair was falling out despite the fact that she tried to adamantly deny it. It had been falling out more frequently since the Relay for Life, and Hermione knew that it was just a matter of time before it was completely gone. She leaned over and touched her husband's hair, the hair so like their son's. He nodded knowingly and patted her hand gently.

The small family lay together on the hammock for a while until they heard the flooing alarm on their fireplace go off. Harry jumped up quickly, careful not to disturb Matthew, and ran inside to find Ron's head among the flames in their fireplace.

“Ron? What are you doing calling so early in the morning?”

Ron smiled as the flames tickled his cheeks. “Well, I haven't seen my best friend in a while, and I just wanted to pop in and ask you guys to join me and Luna and the kids for an outing to go see the Cannons play against Puddlemere in a scrimmage. So, what do you say?”

Harry shrugged. “I really don't know. It depends on how Matthew's feeling when he wakes up.”

Ron sighed. “Can't you just give him some kind of potion to make him feel better? Me and Luna really miss being able to be around you guys, mate.”

“Ron, a potion wouldn't help him any. Listen, I'd love to go with you guys, but we'll have to decide after Matthew wakes up whether he's up for an adventure or not.”

“Right,” Ron said, with a skeptical tone of voice. “Listen, we're going to get the kids ready and we'll stop by your place. If you guys aren't going to go, we'll just leave from there. Does that sound good?”

Harry nodded and touched his forehead in mock salute. “Later, Ron.”

“Later.” His head popped out of the fireplace, leaving Harry to watch the flames. As he stood by the hearth, he heard footsteps behind him. He turned and saw Matthew with his hair askew, standing forlornly. He was blinking his eyes, obviously having just woken up. He rubbed his eyes with little balled up fists and stepped towards Harry.

“Good morning, Daddy.” Matthew stretched his arms upward and Harry picked him up gingerly.

“Good morning, sleepyhead son! Did you enjoy looking at the stars last night?”

Matthew nodded. “After you fell asleep, I looked up and I saw a falling star.”

“Really? Wow, that's amazing!”

“Uh-huh. I think it was Jerrod.”

Harry's smile disappeared slowly and he softly touched the thinning black hair of the three year old in his arms. “I'm glad you got to see that. I know yesterday's funeral was probably hard for you, but I am so proud of how well you handled it. You're my brave little warrior, and you're the best son a guy could ever have.” Matthew smiled sweetly. “Now, son, how are you honestly feeling today?”

Matthew shrugged. “I dunno. I feel okay.”

“Are you tired or hurting anywhere?”

“No.” He shook his head and a strand of hair pulled away from his skull. Hermione came in and smiled at the sight of the two loves of her life before the fire.

“Are you guys having a party in here without me?” She gave a tantalizing smile and walked over to their sides.

“Daddy was asking me if I felt good.”

“And do you?”

He nodded and squirmed out of Harry's arms over to his mother. “Why were you asking?”

Harry smiled and walked to the fireplace. “Well, Uncle Ron flooed, and he was wondering if the three of us would like to go see a Quidditch scrimmage.”

“YAY! When do we get to go? Are Scarlett and Rhett coming? Are you gonna fly again?”

Harry laughed. “Take it easy, Matthew, it's okay. Ron and Luna and the kids should be coming by in about an hour. And no, I'm not flying with Puddlemere, because I retired from the team when you were born.” Matthew squealed in excitement and tugged gently on Hermione's hair.

“Can we go get ready, Mommy? Please?”

Hermione laughed and headed towards the staircase. “We can do that.” She nodded to Harry and headed upstairs with the excited, wriggling boy. Harry chuckled and headed towards the kitchen to pour a glass of orange juice. The owl from the Daily Prophet tapped on the plate glass window and Harry took it in exchange for a Knut. He skimmed through it quickly, laughing as he saw that the front-page news was all about the drop in skateboard sales. As he drained the last of his juice, he heard Matthew gallop down the stairs. This was how life was supposed to be, perfectly normal and disease free. He flitted that thought out of his mind and went in the front hallway to find his son sitting on the bottom steps fidgeting, wearing a little Puddlemere jersey. Harry smiled and went to sit beside him.

“Hey, little man. Nice jersey.” The name `Potter' with Harry's old number was emblazoned on the back.

“Thanks. Mommy let me wear it today.”

“We're going to have a lot of fun today. And you'll get to see Scarlett and Rhett. You've missed them, haven't you?”

Matthew nodded somberly. “I miss them.”

“Me too, little man, me too.” Harry rubbed Matthew's back softly and heard Hermione coming down the stairs behind them. She joined her little family and they walked towards the kitchen so Matthew and Hermione could get something to eat. When Matthew was finished eating his cereal, a chime rang from the den, announcing a visitor via the floo network. Harry went to the fireplace and found Luna and Ron there, little Scarlett and Rhett standing nervously in front of them.

“Harry, mate! Good to see you!”

“Ron, Luna, little Weasleys… We'll be ready to go as soon as Matthew's done eating and…”

“I'm ready, Daddy.” Matthew toddled in from the kitchen. “Hi, Unca Ron, Auntie Luna! I've missed you!”

“Uh, same to you, dear,” Luna said too cheerily, looking at Matthew's hair. Hermione came out and greeted the family, noticing quite unhappily the stares that Matthew was receiving from Scarlett, Rhett, and Luna. Ron either forced himself to not stare or was blissfully unaware of his surroundings as usual. Ron went to the fireplace, threw in some floo powder, and shouted out the name of the stadium they were heading towards. He took Scarlett in his arms and jumped in the fire; Luna followed with Rhett. Hermione and Matthew went next, followed by Harry.

When the little party emerged, they found themselves in a huge plaza underneath the stadium seats. Excited fans with huge flashing banners walked about everywhere, and Hermione put her hands over Matthew's eyes as a scantily clad women walked past, orange paint in all the places that weren't covered up by the little clothing she possessed. Ron jumped about in excitement.

“This is exciting, you guys! Cannons all the way!”

“I like Puddlemere.” Matthew said persuadingly. “Daddy played for them.”

“Yes, you're Daddy was a very good Seeker.” Luna smiled. “But I like the Cannons, because that's where you're Unca Ron and I had our first date.”

“Where?”

“Near the grocery store.” Matthew frowned at the weird response and walked over to Hermione, who patted his head gently.

“Shall we find our seats?” Harry suggested. Ron nodded and took them to a stairwell that led to the very top box.

“This is a free event, so let's see how high up we can go. I really want to get some good seats. Come on, Rhett, Scarlett…” He took their hands to keep them from flitting about and began to head towards the steps. Matthew showed a huge display of gusto as he hopped up the steps, following the other children's lead. There were 14 levels in all, all of which Rhett and Scarlett were planning to bunny hop up. Near the eighth floor, Matthew's hops began to get smaller and his blackened head began to droop. Hermione gave a motherly smile and leaned down to her son.

“Matthew, you're getting tired, aren't you?” Matthew began to shake his head, but seeing Hermione's iron stare, he slowly nodded. “That's what I thought. Why don't you let Daddy or me carry you?” He nodded wearily and extended his arms to Hermione. She lifted him up like a sack of potatoes and let him sit on her shoulders. Scarlett came over to them and looked up at Matthew cautiously.

“Why aren't you hopping, Matthew?”

“He's tried, Scarlett, dear. You go on and hop with your brother, me and Matthew are going to take our own pace.”

“Mommy, why's he tired? Rhett's his age, and he's not tired. Is Matthew just a baby?” Scarlett's insulting words traveled from her position way ahead to Matthew's ears. He shut his eyes tightly and stuck his head in his mother's bushy head. Hermione reached up and patted Matthew's hand.

“Dear, she didn't mean that. She just doesn't know that you're sick…”

“I'm tired of being sick, Mommy.” His words were so simply said that it seemed as though he was discussing the weather or a cartoon show.

“I know, Matthew. It's gonna be hard.” Matthew nodded and was silent for the rest of the climb to the 12^th floor. They situated in 4 seats, the children sitting on their parent's laps. Matthew was joking around with Scarlett and Rhett, obviously having forgotten Scarlett's lashing words. Both families showed a great deal of enthusiasm as the game began, Matthew jumping up and screaming adorably ever time Puddlemere scored. Luna learned a little spell that put face paint in the shape of each child's favorite team on their left cheek. Matthew was ecstatic at finally seeing professional Quidditch teams playing. But as the match went on, he began to tire, and sometime during the 4^th timeout, he fell promptly asleep on Harry's chest. Luna and the kids had made a trip to the bathroom, leaving the trio and Matthew alone in each other's company. Harry watched the game intently, keeping very still so he would not awake his son. Ron watched Harry for a moment before shaking his head.

“It's really amazing, you know?”

Harry turned his head to his friend. “What is?”

“The second our kid is born, we fall hopelessly in love.”

Harry grinned and looked down at the very loved Matthew.

“Is Matthew doing okay, overall?”

Hermione shrugged and nodded. “He's doing pretty good so far. We've just had to adjust our lives around treatment so he can get the best care possible.”

Ron nodded, not really hearing her words as the Cannons scored. He turned to her and smiled. “Why don't you guys just give Matthew a blood replenishing potion? That would heal him, and you two would be free for some more alone time and time with your old pals.”

Harry sighed. “Ron, we've told you that wouldn't work. Matthew's so little that it would probably kill him. The best way to heal him is continue with the muggle therapy.”

“Whatever you say, mate. I think you guys are doing the wrong thing, trusting muggles with something so important.

“Ronald,” Hermione said, her temper flaring. “We are doing what is best for him. If we left it to the wizarding doctors, he would die. You an Luna would do the same thing if little Rhett had a possibly fatal disease.”

“Yeah, sure, whatever. Hey, Puddlemere's seeker is diving, diving, and…” Here Ron uttered words that made Harry stick his hands over Matthew's ears even though he was sleeping. “Cannons lost!” Harry nudged Matthew awake so he could see Puddlemere's victory lap. Instead of being excited though, he was angry.

“Did I sleep through it?”

“Yes, dear, I'm sorry.”

“Figures,” piped up Scarlett. “Little baby slept through all the excitement!”

Ron chided Scarlett and told her to apologize. She did it half-heartedly; expecting Harry to say it was all right.

Harry didn't know what to say, so he just patted Matthew's head.

*************************************** ***************************************

After the scrimmage, the Potters barely saw the Weasleys again. Matthew was nonplussed by the attitude of Scarlett. He lived for Thursday meetings and was always so excited when he was able to go. As the months went on, Matthew's bald spot grew a little bit more. It bothered him for the first time a week after the Quidditch match when he looked in the mirror and saw the shining spot and asked Hermione if Scarlett's words were true.

In November, a Thursday meeting was planned on Thanksgiving Day in the evening. “After all,” Jeremiah had claimed. “We all have a lot to be thankful for.” Harry and Hermione prepared a dish to take and put the wriggling, excited Matthew in his little car seat so they could go to the hospital. When they reached the meeting room, they found Missy Lyn already there with her grandmother. She actually talked to Matthew, much to her grandmother's surprise. As Matthew talked to Missy Lyn, he heard the door creak open behind him. He paid no attention to it until he heard his mother gasp. He turned and saw Jeremiah in the doorway.

“Oh, Jeremiah…”Hermione gasped.

And she had good reason to stare open mouthed. Jeremiah was completely bald; all his hair had been shaved away.

A/N: I'm sorry this took so long to put out, but I really didn't like this chapter, it was just necessary to tie up some old strings and create new ones. Also, I'm sorry if some of my descriptions of cancer aren't exactly correct, I've never actually seen treatment happen, and the real life Matthew has never really told me any details of his leukemia. So all my writing is coming directly from research and an out-of-control imagination. Another reason that this chapter was so slow in coming is b/c I got bored and wrote chapter 18 when I should have been working on this. Oops. Plus, a lot of my time has been spent with the real life Matthew.

-->

Chapter 11:

Thanksgiving Feast

A/N: Yeah, this chapter starts off right where last chapter ended. We will find out right off why Jeremiah is suddenly bald. Okay, yeah, I really don't like this chapter that much, but it is important for future things. Nothing really sad in this chapter. This will probably be the last semi-happy chapter. Also, it's gonna be pretty short as it is merely a link between chapter 10 and chapter 12.

“Oh, Jeremiah…”Hermione gasped.

And she had good reason to stare open mouthed. Jeremiah was completely bald; all his hair had been shaved away. He smiled at her sheepishly and ran his hand over his completely hairless skinhead.

“Hello, everyone.” Matthew watched him in awe, wondering why Jeremiah was bald after he had so soon grown it back from his treatment. “Hey, Matt.”

“Hi. Where's your hair?” Matthew so unsubtly asked the question that everyone was wondering. Hermione knew in her mind that she should get on to Matthew for asking such a blunt question, but she really wanted to know the answer to her son's question. Jeremiah grinned, revealing his perfect white teeth.

“I shaved it all off. How do you like it?”

“Why?”

“Well,” Jeremiah smiled, almost as though he was about to distribute a huge present. “Your Mom and Dad told me that you were kinda bummed about the fact that your hair's falling out, so I shaved mine so that you won't be bald alone.”

Matthew looked at him in complete surprise. “You got rid of your hair for me.” It wasn't so much a question as an unbelievable statement. Jeremiah nodded and Hermione began to cry. Harry stared at the teenage boy with a look of amazement.

“Say, let's dig into this amazing plethora of food!” Jeremiah ignored the stares, not wanting to be portrayed as a little hero. The stunned bystanders made their way to the table, Matthew sitting to Jeremiah's right, Missy Lyn taking the seat on Matthew's right. They began to eat, and as Matthew watched Jeremiah, suddenly being bald wasn't a bad thing—in fact, no hair seemed like the coolest thing in the world to Matthew. He almost couldn't wait until the rest of his hair fell out so he could be just like Jeremiah. As Matthew sat, lost in his thoughts, he felt a tug on his arm. He turned and saw Missy Lyn smiling at him shyly.

“How old are you?”

Matthew extended three fingers so she could see. “How old are you?”

“This many,” two fingers were extended. “But I'll be this many in January.” Another finger extended.

“Why don't you talk much?”

The little girl shrugged. “I don't have nothing to say to them. But you're nice. I like you.”

“Thanks. And Jeremiah's cool. You could talk to him.”

She shook her head. “He's a boy.”

“I'm a boy.”

Missy Lyn smiled shyly. “I know you are. But you're different.”

Matthew nodded, not really knowing what to say. He turned to Jeremiah who was sitting quietly, pretending to listen to the adults' words. Matthew knew that he wasn't there right now; his eyes were clouded over as they so often did.

“Jeremiah?” His eyes returned to focus and he looked to Matthew.

“Yeah, Matt?”

“Are you okay? Your eyes were all cloudy for a minute.”

“Oh, yeah.” He smiled reassuringly. “I'm fine, I was just…thinking. Plus I've just been a little under the weather lately.”

“Oh.” Matthew nodded in agreement, even though he hadn't the slightest idea what Jeremiah meant. Missy Lyn touched Matthew's arm gently.

“Look at this.” She had made a statue out of mashed potatoes that resembled a crayon.

“Hey, that's cool! I wanna make one!” He got his mashed potatoes and, after looking up to make sure that Hermione wasn't watching, formed the potatoes into a ball. He worked the potatoes until they formed a little car. Missy Lyn laughed as Jeremiah watched them. Before they knew it, he was forming potatoes with them, making his food into a little boat-like form. They sailed the little boat on a sea of gravy, Matthew putting green bean people in the `boat.' Missy Lyn created a sail from a paper napkin, and the three patients began to go breathless with laughter. The parents finally realized that the kids were playing with their food. Dr. Regina made a motion to put a stop to it, but Dr. Powers shook his head at her.

“Let them play with their food. I certainly don't want them eating it after that.” He pointed to Jeremiah who was stuffing little bits of potato in his nose and launching them out with a quick blow. Matthew erupted in giggles and slammed his tiny fists on the table. Missy Lyn seemed completely breathless with laughter. Finally, when Jeremiah launched a potato too near Missy Lyn's grandmother, Dr. Regina called the food fun to a stop. The three kids settled down and eventually tuned in to the grownup's conversation.

“Where's Keith?” Missy Lyn's grandmother asked before stuffing a forkful of beans into her mouth.

Dr. Regina sighed. “He's not been doing too well. He had treatment yesterday, and it made him pretty sick.”

“Man, I hate that.” Missy Lyn's grandmother looked truly sorry to hear of Keith's sickness. “I hope he'll be okay.”

“I'm pretty sure he'll be okay. We really don't know why he got so sick.”

“How long has he been here?” Harry questioned.

“About a year. He's a really sweet kid, he's just not very tolerant of pain, so chemo just about kills him. Your son, on the other hand, does exceptionally well compared to most treatments.”

“I do?” Matthew piped up and Dr. Regina nodded.

“You are the easiest patient I've ever had other than Jeremiah.” At her words, Matthew beamed at being compared to his hero. “You're a really brave kid, Matthew.” His grin grew. The conversation went in other ways and Matthew and Missy Lyn began to get bored and Jeremiah's eyes glazed over again as he played with the prongs on his fork. Finally, the adults finished and Jeremiah said good-bye to Matthew.

“I'll see you on the first, Matt. That's your next treatment, right?”

He nodded and smiled. “See you, Jeremiah.”

Missy Lyn came over to Matthew and said a quick and squeaky goodbye before kissing him on the cheek. Matthew blushed horribly and the adults and Jeremiah laughed. When they walked out of the hospital, Harry looked at Matthew and laughed, seeing his son still a lovely shade of red.

“Looks like someone likes Matthew!”

He shook his head adamantly, swearing to never ever like girls.

A/N: Well, I told you this would be short as it's but a link. And yes, someone Jeremiah's age would shoot potatoes out his nose and make a boat out of food. Trust me, someone very special proved that to me. But that's another story. I promise, things will get better from here. This story was good in the beginning, and I really don't like this chapter and the previous one, but well, you'll see why I had to write them. Okay, I'll just shut up now, medicine affecting my brain…

-->

Chapter 12:

Worst Christmas Present

A/N: Things start to get sad…

True to his word, Jeremiah was in Matthew's hospital room fifteen minutes early, waiting to be with him during yet another round of chemo. When Jeremiah met Matthew, he seemed a little sad. True, Jeremiah didn't feel peachy keen either.

“Hey, Matt. What's wrong?”

Matthew looked at his hero and gave a sniffle. “Dr. Regina took some of my blood about fifteen minutes ago, and I hate needles.”

Jeremiah nodded in agreement. “I hate needles so much.”

Matthew hopped up onto the hospital bed, waiting for Dr. Regina to come in and hook him up. He looked at Jeremiah expectantly. Normally, Jeremiah would clown around and do everything he could to be a world-class idiot (i.e. Blowing up gloves and sticking them on his head, dancing around the room, or just telling a dumb joke to Matthew to make him laugh). But that day, Jeremiah looked silently out the window, apparently unaware that Matthew was watching him. Matthew cleared his throat and Jeremiah looked at him in surprise, almost as though he was just realizing why he was in the hospital room on such a bright, shining day.

“The sun is quite dazzling today.” Matthew looked at him uncertainly, not knowing what was wrong with his friend. “I'm glad that it's finally cold.”

Before Matthew could say anything about Jeremiah's weird comments, Dr. Regina came in followed by a teary Harry and Hermione. Dr. Regina smiled at Matthew and patted him gently on the arm. “Matthew, we've analyzed your blood test.” He blinked at her, waiting for her to continue. “Well, we're sorry to find that your abnormal white blood cells, the bad ones, seem to be multiplying. Some are being killed by the chemotherapy, but they're reforming as soon as more die.”

“So…?”

“The chemo isn't working as it should be, sweetie.” Hermione said wearily. “We're going to have to see today if we can increase the treatment by just a little bit.”

“Will I get sick again?”

Hermione nodded. “I'm sorry, baby. You probably will get a little queasy.”

“Oh.” Matthew looked towards Jeremiah for reassurance, but found to his dismay that Jeremiah was once again looking out the window. He sighed and looked to Dr. Regina.

“Are you ready to get hooked up?”

“I'm ready.” He clenched his eyes tightly as he always did when she inserted the painful IV and opened them only when he felt the fluid drip into his veins. He gave a huge sigh and slumped back against his pillows, all the while hating the treatment but refusing to show his emotions. Jeremiah watched him silently. Matthew was glad he was there, but he wished he would actually talk.

“Jeremiah? Are you okay today?”

He gave an absentminded nod and a tiny smile. “I'm just not feeling the greatest today. I think I'm getting a cold or something.”

“Oh.”

“But don't worry about me! I'll be okay as soon as I get some Sudafed or something.”

Matthew tried to smile, but his face was instantly contorted by a yawn. “I'm getting really tired.”

“You go on and sleep if you have to, Matt. I'll be here for you if you wake up and need anyone to talk to.”

Matthew opened his mouth to thank Jeremiah, but another yawn erupted and he fell promptly asleep.

When he woke up, the IV was out of his arm; he had slept through the treatment. He opened his eyes slowly and blinked; not wanting to wake up too quickly for fear that he would get sick. Hermione came to his bedside and said something to him, but he could barely understand her words. He tried to sit up, but the second his head was off of the pillow, he became so dizzy that he could barely even see anything before his eyes crossed over and he fell back against his pillow. The only thing that he had been able to see was the vacant chair where Jeremiah had promised to be sitting when he woke up.

Matthew had to stay in the hospital overnight due to his reactions to the increase in chemo. During that whole time, Jeremiah never returned.

************************************ ************************************

Harry and Hermione had expected Matthew to be tired and weakened from his treatments for a few days afterwards. His poor little body always got somewhat tuckered out after a treatment, but he usually bounced back to almost normality in a few days. To their horror, the latest treatment affected him deeper than it usually did. The slight increase of the chemo left him lazing around with minimal strength capacity for almost a week and a half until the sixth month period since his first treatment. Matthew finally stopped feeling so bad, but Harry could tell that his son was still very weakened. He was very brave about it, though, and showed no sign of his pain.

Christmas was swiftly approaching, and excitement and joy filled the air. Matthew woke up every morning with a longing for snow in his heart. Sadly, the sky was clear and slightly sunny, despite the fact that temperatures reached no higher than 20 degrees. Matthew was filled with holiday excitement just like every kid in the world and spent hours lying beneath the enchanted, undying Christmas tree, living for the fresh smell of pine needles and watching the wood fairies twinkle around the branches. His parents showed him how to make a string of popcorn and cookie dough ornaments, a good way to pass the time when he began to feel worse.

A week before the 23^rd, the day that the chemo kids planned to get together for a Christmas party, Harry and Hermione took Matthew Christmas shopping for his fellow patients. Matthew was ecstatic when he found a green beanie for Jeremiah to wear over his bald token of friendship and help. Hermione helped him wrap it carefully in Coca-Cola bear wrapping paper and let him store it under the tree by his presents for his parents.

Those days before Christmas were perfect times for the Potters. Matthew experienced all the typical wonderment of childhood and found an undying amazement in a magic that could not be taught in a school or a textbook. Winter had cast its spell, and he was completely in a trance from its beauty.

On the morning of the 23^rd, Matthew woke up incredibly early and went into his parents' room, jumping between them and squealing with excitement that the party was that evening.

“Okay, Matthew, okay!” Harry laughed while reaching down to tickle his squirming son. “The party's not until 7 tonight. We'll make it in time, I promise.”

“But we have to make cookies!”

Hermione sighed and sat up in bed. “Yes, I know. We'll make cookies, any kind you like, dear.”

“Sugar. With lots of sugar on top!” He gave a little bounce towards his mother and she laughed warmly.

“Do you know what the weatherman said last night?” Harry couldn't wait to tell his son.

“What?”

“There's a 90% chance of snow this evening.”

“REALLY?!?”

“Yup. And if we get any, I'm going to take you outside to play in it, and we'll build a snowman and snow angels and make snow ice cream, and…”

“Okay, Daddy, okay!” He laughed, Harry trying unsuccessfully to frown. Hermione gave a sigh and pulled the covers back so she could get out of bed. Matthew followed her; not too much later Harry joined them. The little family went down to the kitchen and began to make sugar cookies, cutting them into shapes of reindeer and candy canes. When they were sent to their doom in the hot oven, Matthew's excitement waned and he began to experience boredom and impatience. He spent the day walking around solemnly, unable to wait until the party that would occur that evening. He asked his parents every fifteen minutes if it was time to go yet, to which he was answered, “No, please stop asking! It's still a long time until we leave!” Finally, after he asked for what seemed the bajillionth time, Harry finally let him get on his little coat and gather the three little presents from under the tree. He trembled with excitement and cold as they headed towards the SUV. His excitement grew as they neared the hospital, and he began to chatter incessantly. Finally, they got to the hospital, and Matthew barged in like a rampaging army, passing a merry group of carolers, and quickly found his way to the elevator and pressed the appropriate button to take him to the cancer ward.

The meeting room had been completely transformed from how it normally looked. Paper snowflakes that Matthew, Missy Lyn, and Keith had been making for the past few weeks were hung from the ceiling, decorated with glitter and sequins. A huge Christmas tree had been set in the corner, brightly decorated packages littered beneath it. Christmas lights were strung about, casting a shimmery glow on everyone's complexion. Matthew walked to the tree and placed his presents under it before going to join Missy Lyn and Keith in the corner. Jeremiah wasn't present; neither was Dr. Regina. Matthew began to wonder where he was, but he pushed the thought away from his mind as Keith began to talk to him. Matthew had never really talked to Keith previously, but he seemed to be a very cheery person. He talked about dinosaurs, a favorite subject of Matthew's. The two engaged in an incredibly long conversation on who would win the fight between a brontosaurus and a stegosaurus. Missy Lyn watched the two boys with pale eyes widened, wondering how they could talk so much about such a dull subject. The grownups watched them with mild interest as they waited for Dr. Powers and Dr. Regina to appear. Finally, at half past the hour, Dr. Powers came in with a troubled look on his face.

“Hello, everyone. Nice to see everyone here.”

“Not everyone's here.” Matthew piped up cheerily. “Jeremiah's not here.”

“Yes, I know. He won't be here for a while, I don't think. Let's go on and get started.”

“Where is he?” Matthew was determined to find out where Jeremiah was. Dr. Powers looked uneasy.

“He…He had his six month check-up earlier, and he's still in his hospital room for the moment.”

“Why?”

“I…Let's open presents!”

“Can I go see him?”

“Matthew,” Hermione said warningly. “Don't pester Dr. Powers.”

Dr. Powers pretended to not hear Matthew's question or Hermione's response. He went to the tree and began rummaging underneath to gather all of the presents. He handed them out to the recipients, and mass chaos ensued as wrapping paper flew about everywhere as all the presents were opened. Missy Lyn and Keith ran about in excitement at their new toys, but Matthew was too annoyed by the pestering question that pervaded his thoughts. He knew that something huge was wrong or that something really bad was about to happen, but he couldn't put his finger on the problem. After all the presents were opened, the kids went to a corner to play with their new possessions and the adults went to an opposite corner to talk. As the kids played, Matthew looked to Keith before checking to make sure no parents were watching.

“Keith,” Matthew whispered harshly.

“What is it?” Keith knew something was up by the intense look on Matthew's face.

“I need to find Jeremiah. Will you please cover for me?”

“What do you mean?”

“I don't know, just keep the adults busy if they find out I've gone. I'm going to go find him.”

“Good luck, mate.” Keith gave a little salute to Matthew and he nodded. Matthew looked cautiously to the adults before making a slow movement towards the doorway. When he was mere inches from the doorway, he took off on a dead run out the door. He really didn't know where he was going; there was no telling where Jeremiah was. Matthew couldn't read the door signs, so he just had to take a guess as to which direction he should go. He peeked into six different rooms before finally finding a dimly lit room with Jeremiah lying still on a bed. Matthew walked in quietly and hopped up onto the chair beside the bed. Jeremiah looked over at him with an angry look, but his features softened when he saw that it was Matthew.

“Hey, Matt. What are you doing in here instead of being at the party?”

“That's what I came to ask you.”

Jeremiah sighed and looked up to the ceiling, eyes glazed over as they so often were. “It was too good to be true.”

Matthew was startled, not quite knowing what Jeremiah was saying. “What…?”

“I never thought that I'd survive it, so going into remission was an absolute miracle to me. I was glad that I had been wrong, cause I just knew I was going to die.”

“Okay…”

“I must have been right the whole time.”

A shiver went up Matthew's spine and he began to feel afraid. “Jeremiah, what are you talking about?”

“I've had a relapse.”

Matthew looked at him, waiting for an explanation. He took a deep breath and continued.

“The leukemia's back, Matt. And this time it looks bad.” Matthew gasped and put his hand to his mouth.

“No, no it can't have! You were in remission! That meant that you were cancer-free!”

“Yeah, I was in remission, but sometimes those in remission have their cancer return.”

“Oh, Jeremiah, you can't! You were healthy, you've got to be kidding me…”

“I wish I was.” Jeremiah's voice cracked and he began to cry. Matthew watched as though frozen in time. His heartbeat rushed in his ears and he felt a strong feeling of disbelief, almost as though he was having a bad dream. Suddenly, his best friend and `big brother' no longer seemed an immortal role model: he was human and was once again faced with a fight for his life.

“Matthew, dear,” Hermione's voice came from the door. “I know you're in there. We need to go, it's getting late. Say goodbye to Jeremiah. You'll be able to see him again soon.” Matthew looked at Jeremiah, still stunned, and threw his arms around the neck of the teenage boy. Jeremiah smiled through his tears and patted Matthew's back.

“I'm sorry, Matt. I didn't mean to scare you.”

Matthew had no words to say, so he just ran off to his mother. Thankfully for Matthew, Harry and Hermione were silent on the way down to the lobby. When they went outside, the carolers were in the same place they had been previously, singing Joy to the World with dulcet tones. Matthew couldn't see how they were singing of joy when such a bitter reality existed only five floors above their heads. As they walked towards the SUV, a snowflake landed on Matthew's nose, followed by another and another. The snow he had longed for had finally come, but in light of recent circumstances, it seemed as though just another occurrence that had no importance to his life.

-->

Chapter 13:

“I Love Matt”

Disclaimer: Hoodwinked is an awesome movie, and I adore the Beatles, but they're not mine. Neither is Hello Kitty. Neither is HP. Neither is the real Matthew's story.

A/N: We're halfway to the conclusion, I assume.

Matthew was in a daze for several weeks after Jeremiah's horrific announcement. Harry and Hermione were worried about his sadness, but they knew that his mood would increase if he could just see Jeremiah or the other kids. The bad thing was that because of the holidays, Thursday meetings were postponed for a few weeks. Matthew realized for the first time just how much he valued those meetings.

A few days before the turn of the New Year, the doorbell at the Potter house rang. This was an occurrence in itself, as hardly anybody ever came to visit via the muggle way. Hermione cautiously opened the front door and found Jeremiah on the front doorstep.

“Jeremiah? Hello! Uh, please, come in!”

“Thank you, Mrs. Potter.”

“Please, call me Hermione.”

Jeremiah grinned sheepishly. “Sorry.”

“So what brings you way out here on a day like today?”

He sighed and pressed the bridge of his nose. “I was going to come see if you would possibly let me take Matt with me to go see a movie or something. I think I scared him the last time I saw him, and I just wanted to show him that I'm really sorry.”

Hermione smiled, once again impressed at how selfless this young man was. “That sounds like a great idea. He's been a bit down since the party, and he's been really lonely. I think it would do him a lot of good to get out of here and do something fun. Are you sure you want to, though?”

Jeremiah nodded firmly. “Positive.” A noise came from the back of the house, and Matthew walked slowly towards his mother.

“Mommy, I'm bored… Jeremiah? What are you doing here?”

“Hey, Matt. How would you like to go see a movie with me?”

“What movie?”

“Have you seen Hoodwinked?”

Matthew shook his head excitedly. “I want to.” He turned to Hermione. “Can I go, Mommy? Please?” She smiled and touched his head gently.

“I suppose so, just be good and don't be difficult for Jeremiah.” Matthew jumped up and gave a shriek of joy. He ran to the kitchen and grabbed his coat and was ready in ten seconds flat.

Riding in Jeremiah's car was the coolest thing that Matthew had ever done. Jeremiah let him touch and play with everything, answering all his questions about what was what. Jeremiah introduced Matthew to the Beatles and they listened to Yellow Submarine ten times in a row at top volume. They laughed and made up songs to the same rhythm. Too soon, they were at the movie theater. They watched the movie, finding it much funnier in each other's company, much to the displeasure of the others in the audience who were frowning at the loud guffaws that were coming from the two balding people in the back.

When the movie was over and they were heading back to Matt's house, Jeremiah brought up the serious matter of leukemia.

“Matt, about the last time you saw me… I'm so, so sorry. I should never have been so blunt when I told you, I was just really mad that I was having to go through it all again. I know that's no excuse, but will you please forgive me?”

Matthew nodded and smiled. “It's okay. When do you have to start doing chemo again?”

“January 15^th.”

“Hey, that's when my next chemo is!”

Jeremiah smiled. “Looks like we'll be keeping each other company.”

************************************ ************************************

Jeremiah's first chemo treatment was as lousy as Matthew's. The increased dosage was still making him sick, and Jeremiah's first treatment in so long made him violently ill. Dr. Regina allowed them to be treated in a double bed room. Although both were incredibly sick and weakened, the knowledge that someone was going through the exact same thing they were was comforting. Dr. Regina checked in on them frequently, claiming that if the two of them were together in a hospital for long, disaster would ensue. Both were kept overnight because of abnormal reactions to the chemo, but were released the following day.

Leukemia had finally started treating Matthew poorly. His hair was falling out more frequently and he was almost always tired. Still, his naïve little childish mind kept him hopeful, ensuring him of the promise of miracles. Jeremiah, more boy than teenager, no longer really believed in miracles, but his hope was never diminished, despite the fact that he knew that the hair that was shaved away for Matthew's support would never grow back. After their first treatment together, their treatments coincided once more near the end of January.

The day before their coinciding end of January treatment was Missy Lyn's third birthday. Her grandmother threw a party for her in the meeting room, which all chemo kids happily attended. Missy Lyn looked beautiful in her little red dress, her pale hair pulled back with a huge bow. She smiled the whole time, but refused to speak until Matthew arrived. When he arrived, she ran up to him and hugged him.

“Hi, Matt. I'm finally this many.” She extended three fingers. “That's how many you are.”

Matthew smiled sweetly and nodded. “Happy Birthday, Missy Lyn.”

They all congregated at the big table to let Missy Lyn blow out the sparse candles on her cake. She scrunched her eyes up tightly to make a wish before extinguishing the flames. All during the time that her grandmother cut the cake and passed it around, Missy Lyn's gaze constantly fell on Matthew, who looked nervously at his empty plate as though it was the most amazing thing he had ever seen. Missy Lyn scooted her chair over beside him and smiled shyly. Matthew smiled in return, too nice to destroy her good mood and her trust in him. He knew that he had sworn off girls, but Missy Lyn was nice enough, even if she was of the opposite gender.

A few days before Valentine's Day, Jeremiah had his third chemo treatment. Since Matthew had to go to the hospital for a check-up, he stopped in to visit Jeremiah while Harry and Hermione talked to Dr. Powers. Jeremiah was in high spirits, although Matthew could tell that the chemo was taking its toll on him. Perhaps he was just weakened from having to go through this for a second time or perhaps it was more, but Matthew could definitely see that Jeremiah was getting weaker and sicker as the weeks went on. While Matthew was visiting him, Jeremiah fell asleep from exhaustion. Matthew snuck off quietly and walked down the quiet corridor. Seeing another room door open, Matthew walked in the room quietly, curious as to who was in this room and why they were listening to what sounded like Hello Kitty. A further step into the room showed that Missy Lyn was lying in this hospital bed, a bundle of papers and crayons on her lap and cartoons blaring from the television set. He walked in silently and sat at the chair beside her bed. He figured that if he visited Jeremiah, he should visit Missy Lyn, too.

“Hi, Missy Lyn.” She looked up in surprise and dropped her crayon.

“Hello, Matt. How are you?”

“I'm okay. I was just here for a check-up and I wondered who was watching Hello Kitty.”

“Oh,” she said as her cheeks turned red with embarrassment. “I'm just coloring.” She held up a crayon picture of some people with halos standing together in front of a house.

“Cool. Who are they?”

Missy Lyn sighed and turned her pale eyes away. “They're my family. My Mommy, Daddy, and brother went away last year.”

“Went away?”

She nodded sadly. “A drunken driver hit them and they died.”

“Oh,” Matthew said, sorry he had asked. He had always wondered why Missy Lyn always came with her grandmother. “I'm sorry.”

“Thanks. I'm okay, though.”

A thick silence settled over the two three year olds. Matthew looked around the room, observing the flowery pictures on the walls. Missy Lyn set about fervently working on another piece of art. As she worked she began to question Matthew.

“Matt, can you read?”

He shrugged. “A little. Not very good, though.”

“I can. Grannie taught me. I can write, too. What can you read?”

“I know my letters, and I can read some small things.”

“That's cool.” Silence fell again. Matthew looked around again and tapped his hand against the armrest of the chair. After what seemed an eternity, Matthew stood up.

“I better go, Missy Lyn. See you around.”

“WAIT!” Matthew stopped in his tracks and turned.

“What is it?”

“I have something for you, but you can't read it until you're out of this room.” She handed Matthew a small piece of folded paper.

“Um, okay. See you.”

She waved and gave him an absentminded look. He walked out of her room and opened the paper. He was surprised to see that it was a homemade valentine. There was a stick boy and a stick girl on a heart. Above the heart in little kid scrawl were the words

I Love Matt

Matthew couldn't read much, but he knew what that meant. Confused, he stuck it in his back pocket and promptly forgot about it.

************************************ ************************************

Valentine's Day was the scheduled time for Matthew's next treatment. He went to the hospital as usual and sat in his same bed, allowing Dr. Regina to hook him up to the IV once again. Jeremiah was having treatment, too, and he was there waiting to get his treatment also. They waited for the doctor to come in. Fifteen minutes passed, twenty, thirty… Finally Dr. Regina came in, her eyes puffy and her cheeks streaked with tears.

“Aunt Regina, what's wrong?” Jeremiah had sat straight up in his hospital bed, incredibly concerned by his aunt's sorrow. She sniffed and waved her hands in front of her eyes in an attempt to stop crying.

“I'm sorry, boys. I have some bad news.” Matthew's heart beat faster from suspense. “Missy Lyn died this morning.”

The boys looked at her in stunned silence. “Oh, no,” Jeremiah said. “I thought she was doing pretty good!”

“We thought so, too, but her grandmother went into her room this morning, and she was just…gone.”

Matthew's whole body seemed numb with realization. A girl who had been his age had just died suddenly even though the doctors had thought she was healthy. It was so unreal to Matthew that he could barely believe it was true.

“They're my family. My Mommy, Daddy, and brother went away last year.” Only a few days previously Missy Lyn had said this to him so nonchalantly, while coloring and watching Hello Kitty. And now she was dead, never to have the same girlish fun or grow up to be a beautiful young lady. Even though she was with her family now, her life had been cut short much too soon in Matthew's opinion.

Dr. Regina began to hook both boys up to IV's through her tears. She hooked Jeremiah up first. When he winced with pain when the IV punctured his flesh, Dr. Regina gave a sob and leaned down to hug him close to her. Matthew looked towards his parents, who were sitting near the window with eyes widened in shock at Missy Lyn's death. Dr. Regina came and hooked Matthew up, but he didn't even flinch. When she left them to go check on something else, Harry and Hermione stayed around for a while before they had to go talk to Dr. Powers. Matthew and Jeremiah were left alone. Jeremiah turned and looked at Matthew slowly.

“I can't believe she's gone.”

Matthew's hands shook. “I know. It's so wrong.” He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a small folded piece of paper. “She loved me, Jeremiah.” He tossed the little valentine across the chasm between the beds and Jeremiah caught it deftly between his fingers. He opened it and looked at it for a while before sighing and folding it back up.

“You're right, man. She loved you. You were someone really special to her. Missy Lyn hadn't talked since her family died. Then you came along…” His voice lingered in the air. “Listen, Matt. Never get rid of this thing, okay? Put in a place where you'll always have it, because as your life goes on, it will become more important to you.”

Matthew closed his eyes and let Jeremiah's words sink in. “Do you have anything like this that you keep close to you?”

Jeremiah never answered because he was asleep, but Matthew knew that he couldn't have gone to sleep that quickly.

A/N: Bet you didn't see that coming…

-->

Chapter 14:

Brother-Like Friends, Fighting Together

Missy Lyn's funeral was set for the following Thursday. Matthew wanted to go to it very badly, as he knew her grandmother would probably be the only one there other than the hospital patients, but the treatment that he had to endure on the day they had heard of her death had taken his health with a vengeance. They had increased the dosage just a little bit in an attempt to try to fight the cancer harder, but they only resulted in making Matthew stay in the hospital for two whole days. He was so violently ill, that he could hardly protest his circumstances. He was released from the hospital the day before the funeral, but he was in no condition to go to a cold, drafty chapel and sit during a funeral.

Jeremiah came by to see how Matthew was doing after the funeral, but it was obvious that he wasn't doing too well either. His normally vivid eyes were duller than they should be under usual circumstances and his skin had a pallid, unhealthy look to it.

Of course, Matthew reminded himself. He's not healthy. He's fighting leukemia, just like me.

The chemo that both boys endured that day seemed to have taken the stamina that had always bounced them back to normality. Matthew usually had energy and an inability to stay still a few days after chemo, but his last treatment took away all the rest of his energy. He remained physically drained from then on out, getting sick immediately after chemo and then go back to a weak, sickly child. By May, normal health for Matthew meant weak and tired, and feeling good meant being able to run around outside for an hour before wearing out.

Jeremiah's chemo was affecting him greater than he would ever show anyone. He was a lot bigger than he was when he had received his first treatment years earlier, therefore receiving a greater dosage of the treatment in an attempt to detonate the rapid reproduction of cancer cells. He had to receive chemo more frequently than he had before “remission” and his body was just downright tired. He used Matthew as a reason to keep fighting, and Matthew kept going for him. When Matthew lay in his hospital bed and saw the park picture on the wall, he would remember Jeremiah's promise that he would walk with him every step of the way for the survivor walk, and Matthew determined to keep pressing on.

Time went on quickly for the warriors. Keith, Jeremiah, and Matthew were the only remaining chemo kids, and while the latter two were determined to fight for all they were worth, Keith's kidneys were not functioning as they had, and the doctor's believed they never would again. Matthew wanted to see Keith make it, as he was a peer and almost equal to him. He tried to cheer him up whenever he saw him and couldn't help but smile when Keith's face erupted in a grin. The three boys really bonded during hospital visits; Keith soon becoming a very close friend to Matthew. On the rare occasion that all three boys had treatments simultaneously, Dr. Regina and Dr. Powers would create a party-like atmosphere in the room, allowing the boys to play video games and eat pizza while receiving care. When these parties first started, there was some concern from the parents, but the doctors just smiled. Their explanation was that they wanted those boys to survive and walk out cancer free; while they were battling they might as well have fun!

Matthew had adjusted quite nicely to modern muggle culture. He still knew of the magical world, but it seemed like a vacation to him, returning to Diagon Alley and such. He was practically growing up muggle, completely immersed in their lifestyle and culture. He didn't know that little wizard boys his age were learning how to fly solo, performing small spells, and preparing for wizard preschool in the next few months. His life seemed completely normal to him, and he didn't really comprehend that he was missing out on the life he would have had without cancer. Keith introduced him to daytime television and other such wonders; amazed that Matthew hadn't seen them before.

Life kept moving at a rapid pace until it was the month of June: Matthew's fourth birthday and the mark of having one year of treatment. In honor of both Jeremiah's and Matthew's birthdays (Jeremiah's 17^th and Matthew's 4^th), the doctor's threw a party in a hospital room, allowing all three patients to have a hospital sleepover in celebration. Despite their weaknesses, the boys were incredibly excited in anticipation of the party.

They started out the party with a pillow fight that was stopped soon after Matthew fell off a hospital bed and hit his head, forming a knot. They started up the video games, which lasted for a while before more boredom ensued. Some time before midnight, they sat on the hospital beds around a box of pizza to talk, deciding that was the only thing they felt like doing then. They had polite chatter in the beginning until Keith spoke quietly, wiping a dribble of cheese from his mouth.

“What do you guys want to do, if you get out of here?”

Matthew tilted his head and thought about the life where he truly belonged. “I want to go to school where my parents met and fell in love.”

Jeremiah smiled. “Your parents met in school?”

Matthew nodded proudly. “High school sweethearts.”

“That's really cool…” His voice trailed off. “Wish that could happen to me.”

Keith shook his head and shrugged. “Why can't it? You're a great guy, Jeremiah, and I'm sure we can pawn you off to some unknowing girl.” Matthew giggled and Jeremiah shook his head. “Why not?”

“It just can't. There aren't any girls who would take me.”

“Why not?” Keith repeated. Jeremiah sighed and turned away.

“It's a really long story.”

“We have time,” Matthew said reassuringly. “Go on.”

“Okay, there's this girl. Her name is Sierra; she goes to my school. She's really amazing: reddish blonde hair, blue eyes, freckles brushed on her nose, and a really sweet personality. Well, I really like her, but I'm never going to ask her out for fear she would actually like me back. End of story.”

“That wasn't long…”Matthew began, but Keith held up his hand to stop him from talking.

“Why would you be afraid that she'd like you in return?”

Jeremiah opened his mouth to speak before closing it again, giving him the appearance of a really stunned fish.

“We won't laugh at you or anything.” For a six year old, Keith was very observant about other people.

“I don't want to scare you guys.”

Matthew gave a `humph' and hit the bed with his little fist. “We an handle it. Haven't we had to be brave for treatments?” Jeremiah considered this and opened his mouth again to talk.

“I'm scared that she'd fall in love with me, and then I wouldn't make it through this, and she'd be hurt.”

Matthew's mouth opened slightly, forcing him to take in more air. “Jeremiah, don't talk like that, you're going to make it; we all have to!”

Jeremiah looked at him sadly and extended his hand to carefully ruffle the little remaining hair on Matthew's head. “I hope you're right, Matt, I really do.”

Keith grabbed another piece of pizza and shoved it in his mouth. “Eye donth oo axe er oouth?”

Amazingly, Jeremiah understood, and replied solemnly. “She'd never love someone like me. Plus I'm so sick.”

Matthew was getting quite tired of the conversation and sighed irritably to prove it. “Jeremiah, if that's what you want to do when you get out of here, you better get better and do it. What do you want to do, Keith?”

Keith shrugged and looked back to Jeremiah cautiously. “I want to be a pilot. I mean, farther down the road, but that's what I want to do.”

“I've flown before!” Matthew squeaked, thinking of Quidditch. The boys looked at him and nodded, thinking of airplanes.

“This one time, I was flying to Ireland…” Jeremiah started an anecdote, and the boys began to talk of more fun matters for the longest times, matters that were completely possible to occur. Matthew was glad that they had steered away from discussions of their futures, because he had a funny feeling that not all of them would have a future.

And he had good reason to believe this, especially when each of them found out the results of their latest blood analysis. Keith's cancer was spreading out of his kidneys, and the extraction of his left kidney would be necessary for any hope of his survival. Matthew's leukemia was still thriving, despite his increase in treatments. True, the white blood count level was going down a bit, but his body was still saturated with the deadly disease.

Jeremiah's news was the worst of all. He had only been receiving treatments for six months, but the white blood count in his body was higher even than Matthew's, and Matthew began to fear for his friend's life, knowing that he should fear for himself, too.

Keith's surgery was scheduled for the first week of July. He was incredibly anxious, having never gone under the knife before. Matthew and Jeremiah were anxious with him, scared for their friend. Both of the leukemia patients arrived at the hospital just in time to see Keith wheeled off to the operating room. They sat around in the meeting room all day, waiting for news of Keith's outcome. They looked through every single picture book numerous times, put together 4 puzzles, and walked down the hallways for what seemed like hours before Dr. Regina came over to them.

“How is he?” Matthew's heart pounded. Dr. Regina smiled and patted his head.

“He's out of surgery, though the anesthetics still haven't worn off. He's really weak and sick, so he'll be put in ICU for a while.”

“That's great news!” Jeremiah said. “He made it through the surgery.”

Matthew knew that it was a good thing that his friend had made it through, but a strange sense of foreboding tickled the back of his brain. The boys were fighting together, but he had an odd feeling of helplessness, almost as though all three of them were going up a raging river without a paddle, and not all of them knew how to swim.

A/N: Okay, I told ya'll that we'd be finding out little things about Jeremiah's life. Also, I need to get this story moving, so that's my explanation for my large time elapses. After all, chapter 18 takes place on Matthew's fifth birthday (just so you get an idea of how quickly this will be moving). Please R&R!

-->

Chapter 15:

Downward Spiral

The weeks following Keith's operation went by in dull monotony. Matthew still hadn't seen Keith, and Jeremiah seemed to have become sicker and weaker than he already was, resulting in Matthew being alone during most of his hospital visits. Jeremiah always sat with him during his treatments, but he often fell asleep or watched the bleeping line on the monitor listlessly. Matthew's personal condition stayed at the same level, but he couldn't help but worry for his best friends. But as the only one of the trio at moderate health, he took on the responsibility of being the cheerful one. He chattered incessantly to Jeremiah, who just nodded and smiled, not really taking in a word that Matthew was speaking. Matthew knew he really didn't hear, but he felt that if he could act as though everything was perfectly normal, all the demons that haunted the patients would just disappear.

Back in the wizarding world, Harry and Hermione were fighting their own personal demons involving Matthew's future. An owl had come to their countryside home in the first week of August with a letter of Matthew's acceptance into Dumbledore Primary School. As his parents, they wanted nothing more than to jump into the fireplace and Floo him to his first day of school, but they knew that because of his health, preschool would be an unnecessary burden. Hermione took upon herself the task of sending a letter to the school saying that the famous, the heroic Harry Potter's son would not be attending school until a later date. Tearfully, she remembered her son's previous words, innocently declaring that he would never go to primary school. The only thing in the world that she desired for now was that he would make it to Hogwarts.

Harry could not bring himself to help Hermione write the letter. He knew that not going to school until remission would be for Matthew's well being (after all, it would be near impossible to attend school while undergoing treatments), but the realization that his son would not have the wonderful experiences and life-long friendships of other wizarding children hurt him deeply. He had never had a good childhood, but he wanted his son's life to be the best life a boy could have. Sadly, Matthew's life was already far from perfect.

As the time went by, all the families and doctors in the cancer ward prayed fervently in hopes that Keith's health would somehow improve. They wished that the boy would come out of intensive care and continue fighting the disease that was taking over his body, hoping he would live to grow old. But despite all their hoping, Keith went away softly, like a dove flying from her nest in the still of the night. As a Christian, he was in heaven at the foot of God's throne, praising his savior without the pain that had racked his little body on earth.

All were affected and hurt by Keith's death, but none so much as Matthew. He had never before lost someone that he considered a friend. He hadn't really known Jerrod, and Missy Lyn had been a girl after all. But Keith—Keith had been his friend, his fellow warrior, his pillow fighting, pizza-eating buddy. And now he was gone, gone like the dust blowing softly away in the wild October wind.

Harry and Hermione took Matthew to the funeral, but he was so distressed that he could barely comprehend what was happening. During the service, Matthew's thoughts were pervaded by random memories of Keith during his time spent with both Jeremiah and he. The words in his head were not those of the preachers, but the words that he knew in his heart but was scared to think about.

Keith's gone, but he won't be the last one. There will be more loss.

At the graveside ceremony, rain fell like tears from heaven, reflecting the tears that fell from Matthew's eyes. Although his tears were made of every tear that fell that day, his tears seemed to be bits of his soul seeping away in pain. Jeremiah walked slowly up to him and patted his small shoulder reassuringly, unable to summon the energy for any words of encouragement. Heaven's tears plopped onto his shaved and shiny head and slid down to his eyes, eyes that were once again shaded by the normal listless glare.

After Keith was buried, the cancer ward made a note to not mention him if they could avoid it. Matthew pretended to not notice the absence of his presence, but no one was fooled by his façade. He and Jeremiah continued with their treatments together. Both boys had changed, but whereas Matthew tried to be hopeful, Jeremiah grew more silent in contemplation of whatever was going on his mind.

One day in January, in the middle of a conversation that the boys were having during treatments, Jeremiah stopped in mid sentence and looked sadly towards Matthew.

“Matt, my man, we're the only two left standing. Promise me you'll fight for your life no matter what.”

Matt nodded, confused. “You're fighting too, right?”

Jeremiah continued looking at him while pursing his lips. He gave a steely gaze and shrugged, leaning back on his enormous pillows. Matt didn't really know if that was an answer, but he accepted it as so. The bond he had with Jeremiah was deeper than words, despite the 14 year difference in their age. Matthew could understand Jeremiah's thoughts without him saying a word. On this day, Matt wasn't sure he wanted to know Jeremiah's thoughts. He turned his head to the opposite wall to think when a conversation that Keith had participated in popped into his head. He tossed his head over onto the pillow and looked at Jeremiah.

“What ever happened with you and Sierra?”

Jeremiah turned again towards Matthew and smirked. “Nothing ever will happen. I really don't think I'll ever be able to have a relationship with a girl beyond friendship.”

“Why not?”

Jeremiah sighed and absentmindedly rubbed his shoulder. “I think the plans I made for my future are not the plans that God has for my life. I think that he has an unexpected miracle to be made out of my life, but that miracle has nothing to do with me.”

“Huh? Jeremiah, what are you talking about?”

“Hey, listen do you want to see if Spongebob's on?”

“Sure!” Matthew squeaked, his young mind easily deterred from the conversation.

*************************************************** *************************************

Seeing as how there were only two chemo kids left, Thursday meetings were discontinued. Instead, the boys met at least two or more times weekly, clinging to each other's company for strength and courage. Matthew's condition seemed to stay at a constant level, neither improving nor falling. But Jeremiah seemed to be falling steadily, slowly but surely. There were some days when he would sit limply in the easy chair and close his eyes while listening to Matt's incessant chatter.

The winter months that year came bitter and harsh. Snow and sleet were abundant and illnesses were spreading like wildfires. Near the end of January, Matthew got a nasty case of the flu that left him hospitalized for two weeks. A week into his hospital stay, Jeremiah was also hospitalized, in a separate ward to keep out germs. Matthew missed Jeremiah, but he focused his attentions on getting better. Two weeks later, his fever broke, and another two weeks later he was released from the hospital, very weakened, but sure to be all right by his normal standards.

Jeremiah, however, was transferred to intensive care. Matthew had no definite word on his condition, but as the cold winter began to fade into a beautiful March spring, Jeremiah was still not getting better, and Matthew began to feel a hole forming in his life.

A/N: Okay, I know it's shorter and not as good as my other chapters, but it's a bridging chapter! Also, I've just started a myspace, and it's da bomb, can't stop getting on there! I promise I will find time to write this story, but it won't be as often as before. I'm not giving up chatting time with the real Matthew for anything.

Warning to Izod: Next chapter's a major tissue warning.

-->

Chapter 16:

Angels

A/N: If you need a refresher on things mentioned in this chapter, go reread chapter 9.

The days of that March were beautiful, more summer than spring. All the bugs and birds were abundant, and the blooming fragrance of new life screamed to be explored, called out for every young child to run about the lush green grass, climb to the highest tree, and swing lazily on tire swings that were being put up all over the county. The universe was celebrating life, and all were invited eagerly to attend. Matthew's deepest heart's desire was to join in the life-giving song, but he knew he hadn't the strength nor the stamina to pursue any such frolic. Even if he could participate, he would be participating with guilt at the realization that Jeremiah wasn't able to be a part of the song. For Matthew was beginning to feel the first real worry of his life with the knowledge that after almost two months of hospitalization, Jeremiah was not showing any signs of improvement.

In the beginning, Matthew had tried his hardest to get in to see Jeremiah—and was turned down every time by the doctors, who insisted that a four year old was much too little to go into ICU. He finally succumbed to his restriction from visitation and instead spent his time drawing pictures to try to cheer Jeremiah up while he was sick.

So it was to much surprise—and a great deal of rushing—when the hospital called the Potters on their hardly used home phone early in the morning of March 21^st, requesting that Matthew be brought up to visit Jeremiah. Hermione had answered the phone, and, sensing the urgency in Dr. Regina's voice, motioned for Harry to rush to get Matthew ready. The family was in the car and on the freeway in less than ten minutes.

As they drove towards destiny, Matthew stared silently out the window, needing to speak but not knowing what he should say. He wanted to ask his mommy why there was so much urgency that they rushed to the hospital so quickly, but he wasn't sure that he wanted to know the answer. A strange, funny feeling was creeping into his chest, and he knew the feeling had nothing to do with his cancer. After all, he had become accustomed to certain things that he attributed to his illness—dizzy spells, fatigue, weakness, etc. But this wasn't a health related feeling: it was a feeling of the emotions, a feeling of foreboding.

When the family entered into the hospital front doors, the familiar receptionist jumped up and ran towards them.

“Oh, good, Mr. Potter, Mrs… you're here. Please go straight up to the cancer ward; don't tarry!” Harry gave an understanding, wary nod and pushed Matthew gently towards the elevator. They got on and slowly descended to the necessary floor, no one daring to say a word. When the metallic doors slid open, they were met by a flustered Dr. Powers. His glasses were askew and the lines around his eyes seemed to have deepened, making him look years older than he already was.

“Matt, I'm glad you're here. Get back on the elevator.”

“Why?” Matt asked as he returned to the elevator.

“You're going to go visit Jeremiah. His fever has broken so you won't get sick, but, well…onward we go.” He pressed the 2^nd floor button and cast his eyes towards the ceiling in an order to avoid his companions' stares. Harry cleared his throat and looked towards the doctor.

“Why is Matthew's need to see Jeremiah so urgent?”

The elevator dinged and the doors slid open again. Dr. Powers completely ignored the question and instead shuffled the family into the corridor. They stood quietly by the nurse's station until Dr. Powers motioned for them to follow him. Matt's eyes widened as the big metal ICU doors were opened and he was allowed to step inside.

Surprisingly, intensive care wasn't much different from every other section of the hospital. It had the same walls, floors, and sterile smell of any hospital. But this place was different, somehow quieter, with a highly tense atmosphere. The whole area was still as death, and the putrid smell of gloom and sickness was overwhelming. Matthew's clomping footsteps sounded like rolls of menacing thunder in his ears. A small shiver went down his spine and he gave a little twitch, causing Hermione to give him a startled glance before gently placing her soft hand on his shoulder. When it seemed they had walked down the lonely corridor for what seemed forever, Dr. Powers stopped in front of a ghostly white door and rapped in gently with his knuckles. A brief moment later, Dr. Regina appeared at the door, eyes bloodshot and puffy.

“Oh, Matt, it's so nice to see you here. Jeremiah wants to see you once again.”

Matt nodded and gave an expectant look to Hermione, as if begging her to follow him. Dr. Regina seemed to read his mind.

“Dear, go in on your own. I need to speak with your parents privately.” Matthew nodded cautiously and pushed the big door open enough to allow his entrance. Dr. Regina gave a sad smile and motioned for Harry and Hermione to stay just outside with her.

The interior of Jeremiah's room was really dim without a ray of sunshine. The only light was the soft glow from the poor lamp and the greenish color of the bleeping dots of the monitor. The monitor was keeping in time with Jeremiah's heartbeat, so carefully hooked up to his arm. Matt took a step closer and stifled a sob when he saw Jeremiah lying on the hospital bed. His normal complexion was sunken and waxy, his nose was plugged with something to help him get oxygen, and his eyelids were a dark purplish color, making him appear dead. He had changed so much in the past two months, that Matthew was scared that he barely recognized his best friend. He walked slowly over and stood beside the hospital bed, just tall enough to lean his little elbows on the bed. At the pressure of his arms, Jeremiah's eyes fluttered open and he turned to Matthew. With this simple look, Matt's fears fled; those bright green eyes belonged to the guy he had always known. The only difference in his eyes was the absence of sparkle that had always been present previously.

“Matt,” Jeremiah whispered softly, his voice scratchy and weak sounding. Matt forced a smile and gave a nervous little hop.

“I'm glad to see you, Jeremiah.”

“I wanted to see you one more time, little guy.” His words came slowly and with apparent difficulty. Matt nodded with understanding.

“You don't have to talk if it's too difficult. I can leave and come back another time or—“

“No. You—can't leave. I need to, talk, to you, Matt.”

The room was silent except for the steady beep of the heart monitor. Matt looked at the incredibly ill Jeremiah in expectancy. His eyes closed in a funny way, appearing as though Jeremiah was fighting a wave of nausea. His heavy breathing made Matthew realize that his friend was really, really sick. With a great deal of effort, Jeremiah turned over so that he could clearly see his young friend's face.

“You're a good kid, Matt.” Matt smiled and touched his shoulder softly. “You're one of the only reasons I made it this far.”

“Made it this far in what?”

“Life. I kept fighting to live so that I could be there for you to try to help you.” His words were quiet and strained. “Thank you for keeping me alive, but I always knew it would all boil down to this.”

“What? Jeremiah, what are you talking about?” A note of panic rose in Matt's voice and Jeremiah took the deepest breath he possibly could with the tubes in his nose.

“You've got to beat this, Matt. And when you do,” he paused for another muffled breath. “Remember everything. What doesn't kill you only makes you stronger, and all the things you're going through will make you who you're destined to become.” Jeremiah's eyes lolled and Matt could see he was getting tired.

“I will, Jeremiah, and I'll come back to see you tomorrow, `K?”

Jeremiah's eyes were forced open and he grabbed Matt's arm. “No, you can't. Goodbye, Matt. You're my best friend, never forget.” Matt's eyes began to tear up against his will. Jeremiah's eyes lolled back and he fell promptly asleep, leaving Matt to sit beside his bed with only the beeping heart monitor to keep him company. Keeping his word to Jeremiah, Matthew sat back in the big chair and began to think about the things that he had experienced since his diagnosis, 1 year and 9 months ago. As his thoughts wandered along the paths of his memories, he remembered Jerrod for the first time in a long time. For some strange reason, words began to form in his head until he vividly remembered a conversation he and Jeremiah had had after Jerrod's death.

“Matt, do you believe in angels?” Matthew nodded, thinking that this was a very funny question. Jeremiah smiled, and continued.

“I do, too. Do you know what angels are?”

“They're God's people and messengers, sent to watch over people.”

“Yeah, pretty much. But there's one other thing that I believe angels do.”

“What?”

“They come down from heaven and take those whose earthly bodies are tired and worn out home to their heavenly father.”

Matthew thought for a moment, imagining a sick, old person being carried up to heaven with a shining escort. Jeremiah cleared his throat and spoke.

“The angels came to the hospital this morning, and they took Jerrod away from us.”

The hairs on the back of his neck stood up and a shiver went down his spine, despite the warm room. He didn't know why that conversation had suddenly reappeared in his thoughts, but suddenly, a thought came to him like a bolt of lightning. He vividly remembered Jeremiah saying that he could tell that the angels were with Jerrod when he had visited him, preparing to take him away. His little mouth opened in a gasp and he turned ever so slowly towards the hospital bed where his best friend lay.

And in that moment, he fully understood what Jeremiah had spoken of so long ago.

Although Matt didn't actually see any winged beings around Jeremiah, something had changed. There was a calm, peaceful stillness around Jeremiah. Earlier his eyes, so weary and dark looking, were now perking up somehow, almost as though he was smiling in his sleep. His breathing ceased being so heavy and slowed down dramatically. Matt was terrified and intrigued at the same time; his feet were frozen to the floor.

As he stood there, frozen with fear, the heart monitor stopped beeping. It went on a straight line, and Matthew, not knowing what else to do, screamed as loud as he could.

The next few moments were a blur as Dr. Regina and Dr. Powers and other doctors that Matthew didn't know rushed to the hospital bed to try to save Jeremiah. Tears streamed down Matthew's cheeks. He was in the same place he had been previously, not knowing what to do. Suddenly, Hermione appeared behind him, tears flowing from her eyes, too.

“Matthew, come on, we have to go!”

He shook his head slowly, eyes still riveted on the bed and his feet still frozen.

“Matthew, please!” She ran towards him and picked him up roughly in her arms and held him close to her heart, wishing she could erase the pain he had. As they rushed out of the room, Matthew caught a last glimpse of the bed, and although he didn't exactly know what had happened, the constant buzz of the heart monitor told him the most painful thing he had ever heard in his life.

His best friend was dead.

A/N: Omg, I just killed Jeremiah, I killed him, I killed him…

-->

Chapter 17:

Saying Good-bye

A/N: I know last chapter was a surprise and heartache, but it shouldn't have been so surprising to you. If you have time or just want to, go back and read all the foreshadowing clues I dropped.

Disclaimer: Don't own HP or Chris Rice's Sleepyhead Sun

Harry stared solemnly into Hermione's full-length mirror as his fingers fumbled about to get his tie just right. He hardly ever wore a suit, so he was unaccustomed to getting one to fit exactly. As he worked to get it right, he remembered precisely why he never wore one. He hated the hassle and trouble he had to go to to wear one. Give him jeans and a t-shirt any day.

But today was different. He had to look nice. He wanted to look nice. For funerals in the past, he had just worn slacks and a button up shirt, but this wasn't just another funeral. This was the funeral of his son's best friend, of a young man that he and Hermione had grown to think of as a second son.

The day after Jeremiah had died, Dr. Regina had called Harry and asked him to speak at the funeral. He had agreed immediately before sitting for several hours, thinking of what to say and crying at the death of a young person, cut down far before his time.

After Hermione had pulled a hysterical Matthew from Jeremiah's bedside on that fateful day, Harry had taken him from her and tried to calm him down in the bathroom, wetting his face with a cloth and rocking him gently back and forth. Harry had faced so much pain in his lifetime, but he knew all that he had encountered was nothing compared to the pain of his beloved four year old.

When they had gotten home, Harry and Hermione had both tried to talk to him, but he wouldn't listen to a word they had to say about Jeremiah's death. All he had done for the past two days was walk glumly around the house with tears in his eyes. Harry and Hermione wanted to help so bad that they hurt along with him, but nothing in the world could bring Jeremiah back.

Harry was really dreading the funeral, but time had sped along, and it was occurring in an hour's time.

As he struggled with his tie, Hermione came into the bedroom from their adjourning bathroom dressed in a nice black dress. Her hair was tied back and she was already crying. Harry knew there was no possible way she'd be able to make it through this day. She saw Harry in his suit and gave a tortured sob before walking towards him slowly and mournfully. She straightened his tie roughly and tied it with a ferocity that she only possessed when she was angry. After it was tied, she gave him an angry look before collapsing onto his chest with great heaving sobs.

“Hermione, Hermione…Shh, it's okay, stop crying…” He murmured softly as he stroked her back with his fingers.

“No, no, NO!” She pushed away from him viciously, although he would never admit that her push had hurt him. “Harry, it's not all right! I saw Matthew, and he saw him die! My son has seen more in his short life than most, and I am helpless to do anything about it! I'm supposed to be the all-knowing mom, able to take away problems with an ice cream pop or something! Harry, he's going to be the only first year to be able to see thestrals!” With that final, seemingly off-topic passage, Hermione fell back into her husband's arms and cried like an innocent child. Harry caressed her gently, wanting to soothe her hysterics.

“'Mione, calm down, I'm here for you. You need to be strong for Matthew today. We have to work together to get through this. I know you're hurting. This will be the saddest and hardest thing I've ever had to do.”

Hermione leaned away, still in his arms, and gave a sniffle and a nod. She mastered a weak smile, and let Harry wipe away her tears with the backs of his thumbs. He pushed her curly hair back with a brush of his hand and kissed her softly on the forehead just as they heard footsteps at the door. They turned as one to the door and saw Matthew standing halfway in the darkness, staring at them solemnly. Harry forced an exaggerated smile and went to Matthew.

“Hey, Matthew! You ready to go eat some Lucky Charms?”

Matthew just stared at him and lifted his arms up to be held. Harry sighed but couldn't help but obliged. He turned to Hermione as Matthew continued to stare towards the wall.

“I'm already completely ready, so I'll take charge of him for the morning.” Harry held his son close to his heart, feeling his heart beat in accordance with his own. When they reached the kitchen, Harry put Matthew into his little seat and made a movement towards the counter. “Mmm, what all do we have? You can have Lucky Charms, Cheerios, or, my favorite, Special K!” He whipped the box out of the pantry, trying to make Matthew laugh. His expression didn't change one bit. Harry gave a deep sigh and tossed the box onto the table before sitting heavily in the chair across from his son.

“Listen, Matthew, I don't know what I can do for you. I know you are hurting so badly, and that hurts me, the knowledge that something is wrong in your life and I can't fix it. Please, tell me what I can do to help you.”

Matthew picked up his spoon and studied his pale reflection in its indention.

“Matthew,” Harry sighed again, putting his hands in his hair. “I love you, and if you need to talk to me about any of this at all, please don't be afraid to.” Matthew gave him another blank look just as Hermione entered the kitchen. The family shared a silent breakfast, and too soon it was time to go to the church.

********************************** ************************************** *********************

The number of people in the audience absolutely boggled Harry's mind. To know that someone who had only lived to the age of 17 had touched so many lives was more than his mind could fully comprehend. Every pew was completely full, and people were sitting in folding chairs that were set up in the back. From Harry's spot on the stage, he could see Hermione and Matthew near the front, Hermione watching Harry lovingly with tears in her eyes and Matthew thumbing silently through a hymnal, not really seeing anything he was looking at.

Despite the sheer size of the audience, there was an unearthly silence in the church, minus the noise of sniffles and weeping. Harry was scared out of his mind to be in front of so many people to say a few words, and he had to keep reminding himself why he was there so he wouldn't feel the need to run away.

The slow background music stopped and the back doors opened up. Harry stood with the congregation as Dr. Regina and her family and other relatives came in and sat down at the front. Harry's heart broke to see the anguish on Dr. Regina's face, so desperate to hide her pain from prying eyes.

When the family was seated, silence reverberated throughout the room. Harry took a deep breath before walking slowly to the podium. He pulled at his tie nervously before speaking.

“All of us are gathered here today to remember the amazing but short life of our dear friend. Jeremiah was a really great person who lived more than most people, even though his life was cut short.

“When Dr. Regina asked me to speak today, I was honored but really afraid. I really didn't known Jeremiah as long as many of you probably did, but for the last year and a half, he has continually touched my life along with every person around him.

“I first met Jeremiah on the day that my son, Matthew, was diagnosed with leukemia. Our family was very shaken by the news, and we felt that we were helpless to do anything. I was completely hopeless, my wife, Hermione, was afraid of the future, and Matthew needed the courage to get through his upcoming treatments. Jeremiah gave all of us a fulfillment to our needs. He lived such a wonderful life that I found a renewed hope for the future that I had doubted my son would have. He talked to Hermione and helped her find the strength she needed to be brave for our family. And for Matthew, well, Jeremiah helped Matthew more than any of the treatment could help him. He took him under his wing, and in no time, he was my little boy's hero and best friend. When he was re-diagnosed with leukemia, he and Matthew fought literally side by side to fend off the cancer. Jeremiah wasn't just Matthew's friend and role model: he was a big brother and kindred spirit.

“Jeremiah is gone now, the cancer that he so desperately wanted to help others battle took him away from us. But his memory lives on in those he helped, in those whose lives have been touched by the incredible time he spent on this earth.” Harry looked down to the white coffin.

“Farewell, my other son. I'll see you on the other side.”

****************************** ******************************* ******************

The rest of the service was filled with sorrow. Not a single eye in the congregation was dry; all had been deeply affected by the passing of Jeremiah. The graveside was just as mournful. As the pastor said some words, Harry couldn't help but notice that his son kept staring unsubtly at a tall red-haired girl who was crying uncontrollably. He thought to chide him for staring, but knew that it wouldn't do any could. Matthew hadn't listened to anything or spoken since they had come home from the hospital.

The pastor said a closing prayer and the mourners began to head back to their vehicles. Matthew looked up to his father and let go of his hand so he could walk towards the girl he had been staring at.

“Matthew, come back!” Matthew either didn't hear his father's voice or chose to ignore it. He walked right up to the girl and pulled gently on the hem of her knee-length black skirt. She looked down and sniffed, pulling her red hair to her opposite shoulder so that it didn't fall over her eyes.

“May I help you?” She knelt down in a graceful manner so she could look Matthew directly in the eye. She was very pretty; her blue eyes stood out as brightly as her brush of freckles.

“You're Sierra, aren't you?”

The girl pulled back a strand of hair and looked at him in puzzlement. “Yes. How do you know me?”

“I'm Matt.”

“Oh,” she said, realization dawning in her eyes. “You're the one that was with him, aren't you?”

He nodded and she threw her arms around him. “I loved your friend very, very much. I just wish I had taken the opportunity to tell him.”

Matt hugged her back and looked up to her eyes. “He loved you so much, but he was scared to tell you, because he didn't want you to get hurt. I guess he didn't want to leave you if, I mean, since he died.”

Sierra's eyes pooled with fresh tears and she pulled Matt back to her heart. “Thank you for telling me, Matt. I just wish I had known before now.”

“Why?”

“Because then we wouldn't have had to hide our feelings, and we could have spent whatever time he had left together.” She gave him one last hug before walking away from the love of her life's coffin.

******************************* ******************************** ********************

That night, Hermione woke near midnight with a jolt. Her motherly instincts were kicking in, and she knew something was wrong with Matthew. She got quietly out of bed, careful not to wake Harry, and headed down the hall to Matthew's room. She could see him in the darkness, jerking around in his bed. She ran over and gathered him in her arms.

“Matthew, honey, wake up! You're dreaming, it's okay!” He awoke, gasping, and looked up into his mother's face before collapsing onto her breast in a heap of sobs. Hermione knew she should ask what his dream was about, but there was no use.

“Shhh, baby, it'll be all right. I'm here, darling. Try to go to sleep.”

“I can't.”

“Would it help if I sang to you?”

She saw his head nod in the dark, and she began to sing the lullaby of his infancy.

“Wake up you sleepyhead sun
Rise from your eastern bed
Stretch and yawn

Wake up you sleepyhead sun
Rise from your eastern bed
Stretch and yawn, now it's time to shine
And chase our shadows west
Burn in your pathway across the sky
And brighten up our stories
Wake the continents and oceans to
Another blessed morning!

You are the gift, you are the proof
The Lord looks down and warms my roof
You are the light, you are the sign
That I am loved and life is mine


You even played a part
On history's saddest day
You closed your eyes and the world grew dark
While the Father hid His face
And then two more circles around the world
To weep and wait for glory
And then you rose to show the way
On Resurrection Morning!

You are the gift, you are the proof
The Lord looks down and warms my roof
You are the light, you are the sign
That I am loved and life is mine

Evening so quickly comes
You're ready to kiss the sea
Enhancing the colors of our skin
You cast our shadows east
Your blankets are fading, their purple glows
Your sleepy head is turning
And to our dreams we'll gladly go
And see you in the morning

You are the gift, you are the proof
The Lord looks down and warms my roof
You are the light, you are the sign
That I am loved and life is mine.” time t

Matthew had fallen asleep on her lap to the soft melody of her voice. Not wanting to wake him, she curled up behind him and slept with him tight in her arms until a new day dawned.

-->

Chapter 18:

Fifth Birthday

Jeremiah's death made Matthew lose all of the hope that he had possessed in his little body. He talked only when he had to, refused to eat but one meal a day, and had lost all interest in Quidditch, dinosaurs, and cereal. As the only child still in the cancer ward of the hospital, he no longer had Thursday meetings to look forward to, nor did he have anyone his own age to raise his spirits. In short, he had no shown emotions. The only time that Hermione could tell that Matthew was still hurting from losing Jeremiah was when he had chemo treatments, during which he sat listlessly in his hospital bed and stared without blinking to his left, to the empty chair that Jeremiah always sat in. Without Jeremiah's fun and upbeat attitude, Matthew's chemotherapy hurt worse than ever and left him weaker and sicker.

Yet through it all, Matthew refused to complain. The truth was, he was ready to quit fighting, ready to give into the cancer that was being pulsed throughout his body by the beating of his small heart. There was nothing that he needed to say, no thoughts that went through his brain. He realized that he would have to die since Jeremiah had; they had had almost identical cases. But even though logically he knew he would have to die, he remembered how Jeremiah had said that you would know if you weren't going to make it or not, and until Jeremiah's death, Matthew had always been so certain that he would survive.

Apparently, he was wrong, he thought. Jeremiah hadn't lived, so neither would he.

Matthew's lethargy grew so much that he no longer wanted to go outside to fly or watch the stars, a thing that broke Harry's heart to pieces. His son was almost upon his fifth year on earth, and he no longer had a childish wonder; no longer believed in miraculous happenings. In fact, five years after his birth, he was ready to leave the world behind him.

On the morning of June 18^th, Harry went into Matthew's room early in the morning, preparing to sing Happy Birthday to his son, even though he knew that Matthew would probably just ignore his off pitch voice. Sure enough, when Harry turned on the lights and Matthew opened his dark eyelids slowly, he looked at Harry for a moment before turning his head to the wall. Harry sighed and blinked back the tears that formed in his emerald eyes.

“Matthew, you've got to get out of bed. It's your birthday! We can make pancake people and…”

“I'm not hungry.” Matthew's voice was quiet and monotonous.

“Matthew, please!”

“Daddy, I don't want to!” Harry suppressed a little sigh and walked to the bed.

“Matthew, son, I want the best for you. Please get out of bed and spend your fifth birthday as normally as possible. Matthew sighed and turned over to face Harry, blinking for a moment. Harry walked over and picked him up gently. “Are you feeling any better today?”

“Not really.”

“Do you think you'd feel better if we went on a short little flight? I promise we can stop the second you start to feel more tired.”

Matthew shrugged. He pulled the bed sheet off of him and slowly got out of bed, touching his baldhead as if to ruffle the hair before pulling his hand back in remembrance. Harry forced a smile and went to Matthew's dresser, pulling out some clothes for the small boy to wear. He headed to the bed; ready to put the clothes on his son. Matthew sighed heavily and lifted his arms with strained effort to allow Harry to stick the shirt on over his head. His pants were put on with the same apathetic movements.

When Matthew was dressed for the day, Harry picked him up from his perch on the racecar bed and held him close to his heart. Matthew put his thin arms around Harry's neck limply. Harry sighed and headed downstairs. Hermione was already in the kitchen, a whole batch of pancake men on a plate.

“Happy Birthday, my little man! Do you want a pancake person?”

Matthew looked at her blankly, slowly stretching out his hand to take a person from the plate. He nibbled the head off before putting it back on the plate.

“I don't want anymore, Mommy.” Hermione gave a look of concern, but Harry shook his head.

“Matthew, will you please try to eat some more after we come back from our flight?”

Matthew nodded and Hermione groaned. “Harry, dear, is that a good idea, letting him fly?” Her voice was quiet but it reverberated through the silent kitchen. Harry nodded slowly and walked towards the back door with Matthew in his arms. Hermione thought to follow, but decided this should be a strictly father/son moment.

Matthew made no movement and no noise as Harry tried to make conversation on the way to the broom shed. He sat Matthew carefully on the ground, telling him not to move as he got his Firebolt out. The Firebolt was Matthew's favorite broom. When Harry emerged from the broom shed, Matthew was sitting forlornly in the same spot he was in when Harry had left. Harry forced a smile and knelt beside his son.

“Are you ready to fly?” Matthew merely looked at him. Harry sighed and picked him up gently, placing him on the broom in front of him. Harry took off, Matthew leaning like a rag doll on his father's stomach. He tried to talk, but Matthew didn't seem to care for words. Harry looked down at his son, and the sight nearly broke his heart. The same boy, only two years ago, had ridden on this same broom in this same place, laughing and squealing with the thrill of flight. Now he could barely summon the energy to hold onto the broom. His thick black hair was now almost completely gone and his bright green eyes were lacking their usual luster. His face was pale and his eyelids were dark, giving him the unhealthy look of an underfed, half-dead man. And on his left arm, where that horrific IV went in during treatments, was a huge, black bruise, caused by his easy bruising and the inability to cease using that arm. Matthew's eyes were silent and out of focus, obviously thinking about something other than flying. Harry tried to suppress a sob, but it came out anyway, a big fat teardrop plopping on the top of Matthew's hairless skull. Matthew, shaken from his reverie, looked up into his Daddy's tear-filled emerald eyes.

“Daddy, what's wrong?”

“N-Nothing,” Harry sniffed as more tears began to threaten. “Actually, yes it is something, Matthew. I love you so much, and I don't want to see you giving up. Please tell me what is wrong and I will try to help you!”

“You can't help me.” Matthew said sadly.

“I will if I can! Oh, gosh, if I could, I would take all that cancer from your body and put in myself so you'd be okay! You seemed to be doing fine, but now you just seem to have given up! Please tell me what's wrong!” Matthew looked down, his eyes oddly out of focus again.

“He died, Daddy. And he was just like me. I always wanted to be just like him, but now that he's gone… I'm sorry, Daddy.”

“No! You don't have to give up just because Jeremiah died.” Matthew's breath hitched as he heard the name. “Yes, I said his name, but he wouldn't want you to give up because of him!”

“Our cases were so the same, that there's no way I can make it.”

“Matthew, baby, please don't say that! The rest of your life can't be determined by Jeremiah's life!”

“Why?”

Harry sighed and wiped his eyes roughly with his hand. “You can't determine what's going to happen in your life by basing it off of someone else's life. Yes, Jeremiah died, and I know you miss him so bad that it hurts you, but you can't give up just because he's gone!”

A little tear from Matthew's eye dripped onto Harry's hand. “I miss him, Daddy. He was my best friend.”

Harry's heart broke even farther. “I know, son. Jeremiah was a great person, and I know you admired him so much. But he's not the only friend you'll ever have. There will be more friends, more adventures, and more flights before your life will really be over! Please keep fighting, for me, for your mother, for Jeremiah…”

Matthew grew silent and refused to reply. Harry's eyes filled again and he brought their flight to a stop, holding Matthew close to him as they touched the ground. Matthew turned to him and rested his little head on Harry's shoulder.

“Everybody's left me, Daddy. I'm the only one left at the hospital.”

“I know, baby, I know.” Harry patted Matthew's shiny head in a reassuring manner.

“And Scarlett and Rhett left me, too.”

“Oh, Matthew, they'll have to see you again after you get better.”

Harry picked him up and began to walk towards the house; Matthew leaned up against Harry's shoulder, his hands balled in Harry's hair. When they were close to the patio, Matthew leaned up and hiccupped before whispering in Harry's ear.

“I'm sorry, Daddy. But I don't think I'll ever get better.” Harry patted his back, wanting to say something to prove his son wrong, but not knowing quite what words to say. Hermione, standing on the patio, looked at Harry curiously.

“Harry, you've been crying! What's wrong?”

Harry shook his head and walked inside, passing her in an attempt to not let her see Matthew's tear-stained face. Harry and Matthew went through the rest of the day in a severed silence, speaking only when Hermione made forced conversation. Matthew opened his birthday presents carelessly, not even getting excited when he saw that one of his presents was a complete works of Wallace and Gromit DVD. At six o' clock, his eyes began to droop, and Hermione took him quietly upstairs where he fell asleep almost instantly. She stayed in his room for a quarter of an hour before going back downstairs to find Harry sitting at the dinner table, his head in his hands and salty tears dripping into the coke that sat before him.

“Harry, dear,” Hermione came to the table and sat beside him. “What ever is wrong? You've been so sad all day long.”

“He's giving up, Hermione.” Harry's voice was flat. “Jeremiah died, and Matthew thinks he has to die in return.” Hermione tried to speak but her voice was destroyed by an impending sob. “He always wanted to be like Jeremiah, and now that Jeremiah's died, Matthew thinks he's going to, too.”

“Harry…” Hermione breathed.

“I just don't know where everything went wrong!” Harry's voice had become high and boyish. “When all this started, I thought that there was no way that God would ever take him from us, but now I'm not so sure! I love him so much, Hermione!”

Hermione nodded in agreement, before giving a watery kiss to Harry's forehead. “Hold me, Harry.” She breathed, her words sounding like something from a cheesy soap opera. Harry stood up and held her close to him, enveloping her lips in a reassuring kiss. She kissed him back with anguished fervor and allowed him to pick her up in his arms. He stumbled upstairs to their bedroom, sealing the door with a silencing charm behind them. They got situated on the bed and joined together as one, not with the fiery passion they had had the night that Matthew had been conceived. No, this joining together was full of sorrow, anguish, and longing. They melted into each other, longing to help vanquish the pain and heartache that was coursing through both bodies, being together for the first time in a long time. When they climaxed together, they stayed awake long into the night holding each other and trying to help heal the pain that both felt for their precious baby boy, not so much a baby anymore as a little weakened warrior.

-->

Hope Dawns in an Unexpected Surprise

Chapter 19:

Somehow, the Potters endured, despite all the bad things that were going on. Harry's strength was taking its toll, though. Matthew had hardly spoken since their flight one month ago, Hermione had been feeling poorly, and Ron had flooed them again, asking them all to go spend time with his family. When Harry had declined, Ron had gotten angry, and Harry was afraid that all ties with his best friend had been irreversibly severed.

Hermione's sudden illness was what really scared him, though. There was a specific reason behind Matthew's illness—the cancer. But there was no reason for Hermione to be sick. And since cancer was often a hereditary disease…well, Harry made himself sick with fear that his wife might have the same illness that their son had. Seeing his only son so sick broke his heart, but he just knew that if he had to watch his wife be knocked down by cancer, he would die. Hermione was his soul mate and the love of his life, and he didn't think he could bear to see her hurting that much.

Matthew's next chemotherapy treatment was scheduled for July 31: Roughly one and a half months after Matthew's birthday. Harry and Hermione did their normal routine of getting Matthew into the car, with the exception that Hermione just opened the doors and carried a little bag with some toys instead of actually helping Harry get him buckled in. She was feeling nauseous, and Harry had made her allow him to do all the work. They finally got situated and headed towards the hospital once again.

When they got up to the cancer ward, they met a smiling and cheerful Dr. Regina. She tried to make small conversation with Matthew as she hooked him up, but he just looked at her bluntly. When she turned to leave the room, Harry followed her, leaving Hermione alone to keep Matthew company.

“Dr. Regina, can I talk to you about something?”

She turned and smiled. “Sure. What's on your mind?” He sighed and put his hands in his pockets.

“It's Hermione, Dr. She hasn't been feeling well, and I'm, well, I'm afraid something might be seriously wrong with her. Do you think you could find a doctor to check up on her?”

Dr. Regina gave him a look that seemed all knowing, a look that made Harry feel as though she knew something that he didn't.

“Of course, I'll get a doctor up here directly to take a look at her.” She turned to leave, but Harry reached out and grabbed her shoulder.

“Wait! Uh, there's one more thing.”

“What is it?”

“I, uh,” he rubbed the back of his neck in nervousness. “Never mind. It's too personal of a question.”

“I don't mind at all. What's wrong?”

He sighed and dropped his hand. “How are you staying so happy, even though your nephew who you practically raised is dead?”

She gave a warm smile as her eyes developed a far away look. “It's still really hard for me, even to come here to work everyday.”

“So how do you do it?”

“I rest myself in the knowledge that his death wasn't good-bye, as we are both Christians. The Bible tells me that I will be reunited with those who have passed on in heaven, and I know that there will never really be a final good-bye. Plus, I know that he's really in a better place now, no longer suffering from cancer, no longer bald.” Harry laughed. “He has a new, pain-free body, and that makes me angry at myself for being so selfish that I want him back here. So, in answer to your question, I put things into perspective, and God helps with the rest.”

Harry nodded and smiled, amazed at her wonderfully true story. “Do you think you could talk to Matthew about this? He's ready to give up ever since Jeremiah's death, and he really needs to hear a message of hope.”

Dr. Regina smiled. “I'd love to. I'll be sure to talk with him while Hermione's getting her check-up.”

She went to the nurse's station to page a doctor, and within ten minutes, a doctor by the name of Shepherd was there, ready to examine Hermione. Harry brought her into the room, despite her protests that she was perfectly fine and didn't need a doctor, thank you very much. He finally got her to sit down on the examination table long enough for an examination. Dr. Shepherd took her blood pressure, checked her reflexes, and every other necessary check-up procedure. Then he pulled out his clipboard and began to ask her questions.

“Have you had much of an appetite in the past month?”

“Not really. But I think that's just because of my worrying over Matthew.”

“Have you had any trouble sleeping?”

“Yes, but once again because of my last answer.”

“Have you been weak, dizzy, and/ or tired a lot more than you normally are?”

“Yes, but…”

“When was your last menstruation?”

“June 12^th.” Harry looked at her in surprise.

“'Mione, you didn't tell me anything was wrong like that!”

“Well, I am anemic, and it's not that strange for me to be irregular when I'm stressed or really worn out!”

“How long have you been anemic?”

“Since I was thirteen. I take special medication for it.”

“And what kind of medication do you take daily?”

The questioning went on until the doctor ordered a blood test and a urine sample. By the time Hermione was finished with both, she was in a very bomb-like mood: One little thing could annoy her and she'd explode in fervor on the thing that misshaped to annoy her. As she sat with Harry in the examination room, waiting for the test results, Hermione shot piercing glares to her husband, feeling that it was all his fault that she had to pee in a cup and give some of her blood away. If looks could kill, she would be a widow at that very moment, and she was so annoyed that she really wouldn't have cared in the least.

Harry was very thankful when Dr. Shepherd came back, to say the least. He gave a huge smile when the door open, making Hermione give him another lethal glare before turning to the door in anger.

“Well? Am I dying as my husband seems to think?” Dr. Shepherd just grinned and gave Harry a sympathetic look.

“What is wrong with her?”

“YOU THINK SOMETHING'S WRONG WITH ME?!”

Harry didn't even answer, so confused and stressed as to why his wife was acting so tetchy. Dr. Shepherd gave a hearty laugh.

“Nothing's wrong with you, Mrs. Potter.” He turned to Harry. “Sir, I would really not like to be you in the coming months.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, Mrs. Potter, I have found out the reason to your poor feeling.”

“Am I sick?” Hermione said, suddenly calm in worry over what could be wrong with her and incredibly ashamed of her anger filled emotions.

“Oh, you're not sick, on the contrary! You're actually perfectly healthy.”

“Then why,” Harry said, his voice rising almost to his wife's previous sound decibel. “Is she feeling ill?”

“She's pregnant.”

Harry felt his mouth drop as his mind tried to catch up with what he had just heard. “But, how…we used a…” his mouth formed an `O'. They hadn't used a contraceptive, and if he had just thought of that little fact previously, he wouldn't have been thinking that his wife had cancer.

“How far along am I?” Hermione whispered, her face aglow.

“I'm estimating one and a half months.” Hermione's eyes darted towards Harry before darting back to the doctor's face. “I want to get you in to have your first ultrasound as soon as we can get you in. I think our ultrasound technician is here today, so I'll see if he can squeeze you in. You two can stay here while I find out the details.” He turned away and walked out the door, leaving Harry and Hermione to stare at each other in disbelief.

“Can you believe this?” Harry asked.

“I-I'm pregnant.” The thought still hadn't fully registered in Hermione's mind.

Harry left his chair and went to be by his wife. He pulled back her hair and kissed her soundly.

“Harry,” she gasped as they broke away. “This time is going to be even harder than when we had Matthew.”

He sighed and rested his chin on the top of her head. “I know, love, I know. But this child was conceived for a reason, and God will help us get through supporting Matthew until he is rid of this cancer and supporting this child and bringing it into the world.”

“You want to know something weird?”

“What?”

“Every night, I've prayed for a sign of hope, something that will help us get through Matthew's cancer. Maybe this baby is the beginning of the hope we've been searching for.”

Harry didn't know how to reply, so he just kissed his wife passionately again.

-->

Chapter 20

Keep On Fighting

As soon as Harry and Hermione went into the examination room with Dr. Shepherd, Dr. Regina sneaked around the nurse's station and headed for Matthew's room. She rapped on the door softly with her fist and softly pushed the door open. Matthew, lying limply on the bed, turned apathetically to the door, saw Regina, and turned back to look out the window. She walked over to him quietly and sat at the chair that Jeremiah had always previously occupied. He looked at her briefly and did a double take. Why was she sitting in his room, when she normally only entered to check on his status?

“What are you doing here?” He really didn't mean to sound rude, he was just so surprised. Dr. Regina smiled at him sadly.

“I just wanted to talk to you and see how you're doing.”

“I'm fine.”

“Matt, please don't lie to me. I know you're hurting, and I want you to be able to talk to me.”

“You wouldn't understand.”

“I'd understand better than your parents or the other doctors would. I was closer to him than anyone else.” Matt's mouth formed an `o'. He had forgotten that Dr. Regina was his aunt, a substitute mother. He looked towards the wall and gave a great sigh before turning back to the doctor.

“I miss him. I know he's only been gone for four months, but it feels like forever.”

Dr. Regina gave him a sympathetic smile. “I know, love, I know. Some days it is so hard to even wake up to the knowledge that he's gone. I know you'll never forget him, cause he has helped you through a lot of hard times in your life, but you will have other friends, others that you will care deeply about.”

“No, I won't.”

“What are you talking about?” The sympathetic smile had gone from her face and Matt sighed.

“He died. And I was just like him. So I'm gonna die.”

“Oh, sweetie,” She reached out and softly gave a motherly touch to the side of his cheek. “That's so not true. Yes, Jeremiah died, and we'll miss him greatly, but that doesn't mean that you have to die.”

“It doesn't?” Matthew blinked in surprise, almost as though he hadn't thought of another possibility.

“Oh, sweetie, of course not! You are your own individual human being, completely and totally different from Jeremiah! Yes, your cases were similar, but that doesn't mean that you will end up exactly like him! In fact, oh, I don't know, but I've always had a gut instinct that you would make it out of here!”

“Why?”

She shook her head. “Something about you is special, I don't know what it is. I just have always thought that you'd survive. I really think God has a great plan in store for your life.”

Matt thought about this for a while, wondering what God could possibly have in store for his future. “It just seems so wrong, going on with life when Jeremiah's dead.”

“Trust me, I know. I know I will never be the same, and I'm pretty sure you won't either. But Jeremiah would absolutely hate it if you just gave up because of him. I know he'd agree with me when I say that he'd want you to fight for your life with everything you've got. And if you get through this, you'll be stronger than you ever imagined possible. Plus, Jeremiah was a Christian, and you are, too! His death wasn't the final good-bye: you'll see him again in heaven!”

Matthew thought about her words, and a new hope dawned in his heart. For the first time since Jeremiah's death, he realized that he didn't necessarily have to die! It finally clicked in his mind that the God that he had accepted into his heart months earlier as his Lord and Savior was in control, and that it was up to God to either continue life on earth or take him away to his home on high.

But now he knew for sure that whatever time he had left alive, he would use it to fight for all he was worth, as a tribute to Jeremiah, Keith, and all the others he had lost.

When he turned back to Dr. Regina, his face was beaming for the first time in almost half a year. She returned the smile and leaned over to hug him tightly. After a few moments, she pulled away and began to fish around in her pocket until she extracted a weathered leather wallet.

“I want to give you something, Matt.”

“What is it?” Matt's interest was instantly piqued. She gave a sad little look and opened the wallet gingerly.

“It's Jeremiah's wallet. He always kept it with him, and I just can't bring myself to stop carrying it around.”

She dug in the wallet until she found what she was looking for. She pulled out two pieces of paper, one older than the other, and placed them both on Matt's bedside table. He picked them both up and unfolded them carefully. As he saw what was on both, he looked quickly up to Dr. Regina, tears in his eyes.

“What—?”

“Yes, it is.” In Matt's outstretched palm was the crayon picture that he had drawn for Jeremiah on his sixteenth birthday, the same birthday that he had gone into remission. He reached his hand out slowly and brushed it over the softened crayola drawing of himself, standing beside his best friend.

The other paper was a similar crayon drawing, only this one was much more detailed and not of stick people. There was a fully formed little Jeremiah; standing beside someone who Matt could only assume was his hero, Isaac.

Matt looked to her again, puzzled. “Why are these things in his wallet?”

“Did he ever tell you to keep the things that reminded you of things that were important to your life?”

Matt nodded, remembering Missy Lyn's valentine.

She shrugged. “Those were the two things he always kept. I wanted you to have them so you could keep them now.”

Matt examined them for a while longer before looking to the older lady again.

“Why him? I mean, why am I still here, when he died, when Isaac died? Why am I the only survivor while others like Missy Lyn and Keith and Jerrod died, too?”

Dr. Regina shook her head. “We may never know, we can only know that God has a plan and a purpose for you.”

“That just a really small-seeming reason.”

“Yes, it is vague, but you have so many reasons to keep fighting. You can fight to grow up, go to school, fall in love, etc.” As she said these words, a knock sounded at the door. She apologized to Matt with a promise of quick return and went to the door. While she was gone, Matt stared out the window, amazed at the potential life he had, thankful that he was alive on this very day, and wondering how many more days he had.

When Dr. Regina came back in, there was a huge smile on her face. “I'd like to tell you of another great reason for your life.”

“What?”

“You're going to be a big brother; your mom's going to have a baby.”

A/N: Hmm… This story has 15924 hits, and only 191 reviews. PLEASE, PLEASE, if you read this, PLEASE review, even if you think this story sucks. This story is really important to me, and I really really REALLY want to do a sequel, but it all depends on if anyone else cares to see more of this story after this story is over.

-->

Growing

Chapter 21:

A/N: Thanks to all those who reviewed for last chapter! Hopefully I'll break 300 before this story is over :D

Matthew was in an absolutely euphoric mood when the Potters left from the hospital; a mood Harry and Hermione hadn't seen in a long time. As they walked to their vehicle, Matthew ran around them chasing a dragonfly, either having not been effected by his chemo or just choosing to ignore its aftermath. Harry didn't know what Dr. Regina had said to his son—he would never really know—but he knew that her words had done just what he had hoped they would: they had given Matthew a newfound joy and hope that he had been desperately lacking.

As Hermione watched him, she could practically feel a motherly glow emanating off of her complexion, so happy was she that the first son of her womb was acting like he had before cancer. She could practically feel the child inside of her give a cry of triumph in the knowledge that its brother would live to meet it when it breathed its first breath of life. True, there was still a long road to remission, but Hermione felt so sure of her son's survival that defeat was absolutely no option in her mind.

While their yellow SUV stopped for a red light, Harry looked lovingly into the rearview mirror at Matthew, singing his lungs out to a Sesame Street tape. Harry's eyes clouded over with tears and the sound of his son's voice; it had been such a long time since he had sung without a care in the world. Hermione, who had been watching Harry's face, gently slipped her hand into his and squeezed it reassuringly.

When the family got home, Matthew ran upstairs at mach speed, carefully carrying two pieces of paper that his parents knew not of their content. They only shrugged and went hand in hand to their bedroom and silently shut the door. After a long, passionate kiss and a loving embrace, Harry performed a tricky little spell to determine the sex of their second child. When the results were clearly shown, Harry, crouched down in front of his wife's stomach, began to cry with joy. When he looked into her face, he saw tears flowing freely from her eyes, too. They shared another kiss before going hand in hand again up to Matthew's room. When they reached their destination, they found their son sitting on the floor, animatedly playing with a tub of plastic dinosaurs.

“Matthew, sweetie,” Hermione knelt down beside him, smiling at the realization that in a few months she wouldn't be bending down with such ease. “Daddy and I need to talk with you.” The three of them moved to comfortable positions on his racecar bed. They advanced to tell him whether he was going to have a little brother or sister and what to name it. When they told him of a possible name choice, he could do nothing but smile serenely.

“It's going to be a lot different around here with a baby in the house,” Harry said. “And it will take up a lot of our time. But if you ever feel lonely or if you just want to spend time with us, just talk to us, son. You're going to be an excellent big brother, and you'll have to be a good example for your sibling in all things.” Matthew couldn't have been more excited at the prospect of being a hero in someone else's eyes.

The hospital made a way for Matthew's monthly chemotherapy to be scheduled on the same days of Hermione's check-ups. The months went by, and as Hermione's belly began to grow with increasing rates, Matthew began to grow better. Harry was absolutely amazed. There was absolutely no way that Dr. Regina's speech could possibly have miraculously improved his son's health, but there was no use denying the fact that he had taken a turn for the better since that day.

When Hermione had her three-month check-up, Dr. Powers took a sample of Matthew's blood to see how things were looking. The results were absolutely amazing. The same blood that had been composed almost completely of cancer cells was so much better that the amount of cancer had been split in half. Because of this result, his chemotherapy was reduced to once every two months. When Hermione had her seven-month check-up, the amount of bad blood cells had been halved from the half. The cancer was still there, but it was being beaten. The little family who had so desperately needed hope half a year earlier was getting not only hope, but the beginnings of a true-life miracle.

One evening near the end of Hermione's third-trimester, she and Harry had tucked a hyper Matthew into bed and gone to their bedroom to talk. Hermione's huge belly was preventing her from getting in a comfortable position. She lay on her back, her head supported by Harry's chest. He sat absent-mindedly stroking her bushy hair as they lay in silence.

“God has blessed us beyond our wildest dreams,” Harry whispered, almost as though afraid to speak the words that had been impressed on him since Hermione had gotten pregnant.

“Our life really hasn't been too easy, though.”

Harry sighed and licked his lips. “I know. I've been orphaned and left with my heartless relatives, forced to watch people I've loved die, been abandoned by friends, and battled the most evil wizard in the world, but all that is nothing compared to these last two and a half years.”

Hermione's eyes pooled and she nodded slowly in agreement, having been with her husband through most of his hardships. “But you want to know what I think?”

“What?”

“I think Matthew's cancer has brought our whole family closer together and made us stronger. Things would have been so much easier if he had never had cancer, but I think all the things that have happened have made him stronger, made us stronger. I just know that even though Matthew's seen so much heartache, felt so much pain for one so young, that all this is a part of God's plan for his life. God will bring beauty from my baby's pain, and because of this suffering, he'll go so much farther than the plans we made for him when he was a baby.”

Harry couldn't have said it better. “What do you think he'll be?”

Hermione shook her head. It was so nice to talk of their son's possible future. “I don't know. But, Harry, I was thinking…”

“About what?”

“I think I know what I want to do for the rest of my life.”

“That's great, honey! What is it?”

Hermione hesitated for a moment. “I want to go back to school and become a…healer.”

“At St. Mungo's?”

She nodded. “Seeing Matthew, I want to be able to help people who are sick. And I might not even be a healer, but a muggle nurse.”

“Really?” Harry said in shock. “Why possibly muggle?”

She shrugged. “I don't know. I just want to help both muggles and magic folk alike.”

As they sat there in thought, the baby gave a great lurch from inside its dark shelter. Hermione pulled the hand that Harry held down, bringing him with her. The two of them softly held her stomach, feeling the life that they had formed move around.

“It still amazes me,” Harry whispered. “You'd think after the second time, the amazement would have dimmed a bit.”

Hermione giggled. “It' is amazing, isn't it?” They sat again in a soft silence. Finally, Hermione voiced the fears that had been running through her mind.

“What if this baby gets sick, too? What if Matthew doesn't go into remission, and then this baby gets sick, too?”

“Oh, baby,” Harry whispered and turned her chin towards his. “You can't live in fear. I know it is terrifying to think of either of our children ever being hurt, even the one who isn't here yet, but we've just got to live. This whole experience with Matthew has strengthened my faith and showed me the important things in life. If it be God's will for this child to be sick, He'll bring us through it, together.”

“I'm also kinda scared that this baby will be a holy terror.”

“Why?” Harry was completely off-guard by the sudden topic change.

“Well, they say siblings are opposite each other, and Matthew's such a good kid…”

Harry laughed and kissed his wife softly. “With you as a mother,” he whispered to her mouth, “The kid could never be bad.”

“You're not too bad either, Potter. I just hope Matthew will be all right once the baby is here.”

“I bet he'll be just fine. He is a Potter, after all. Plus, I don't know what Dr. Regina said to him that day, but I bet that's only part of the reason he's fighting. He wants to live to be a hero to his little sibling.”

Hermione smiled, in spite of herself. “I know it sounds absolutely insane, but he's already a hero.”

“To whom?”

“Me.” When Harry gave her an odd look, she explained herself. “Even though he's my son, and only five years old at that, he has shown me more than I could ever imagine about love and life in general. He's shown me just how much it is possible to love someone, and he's shown me that life is a gift, taken away in an instant or a blessing to be given another day. He's my little warrior, and other than his father, the bravest hero I've ever had the privelege to know.”

Harry agreed wholeheartedly, but said nothing, as he was too busy kissing his beautiful Hermione.

A/N: Review, Review!

-->

Chapter 22:

Life

As the days before the baby was to be born went by, the Potters spent more and more time at the hospital, not for Matthew but for Hermione. While Hermione went through check-ups and tests, Matthew wandered up to the cancer ward to talk to Dr. Regina. Even when he didn't have to have chemo, he sat with her, just talking about his everyday life. Dr. Regina didn't mind in the least; she had come to absolutely love this little boy.

The morning of March 6^th dawned bright and early for the family. The time for the baby to be born had come, and the family rushed to the hospital. Matthew sat in the backseat, fidgeting uncontrollably with excitement. Hermione sat in an uncomfortable position, giving Harry death glares and even feeling annoyance at Matthew's voice. When they reached the hospital, Harry rushed Hermione to the maternity ward and gave Matthew orders to go up to the cancer ward where people could watch after him.

When he got off of the elevator, he saw Dr. Regina just getting off work.

“Why, Matt? What are you doing here at 4 a.m.?”

“Mommy's having a baby!” Matt jumped around on one foot then the other, looking to Dr. Regina for her reply.

“Oh, that's wonderful! Were you planning to stay up here until the birth?” He nodded. “Well, all right, but you'll have to stay with Dr. Powers. I have to go home.”

“'K.”

“What is the baby's name going to be?” Matt gave a devilish smile and held a finger to his lips.

“Secret.” Dr. Regina smiled and tousled his hair; it had been growing back at a rapid pace.

“Okay, okay. I'll back up here later; maybe you can introduce me to your new brother or sister.”

“Okay.”

“Bye, Matt!” She went to the elevator, leaving Matt alone to find Dr. Powers. After a futile search, he headed down to the maternity ward in search of his father. He got lost a few times, but kind nurses finally got him to where he needed to be. When he walked into the maternity waiting room, he found it empty except for one person. It wasn't his father like he had originally hoped: It was Ron Weasley.

“What are you doing here?” Matt was in absolute shock to see him sitting there, a cup of coffee in his hands.

“Hello, Matthew. I was just about to come find you.”

“I thought you and Daddy were mad.”

Ron gave a great sigh. “We were, and it was all my fault. I just feel so bad, because I turned my back on my best friends when they needed me most.”

“Why?”

“Why did I turn my back or why is it all my fault?”

“Both.”

Ron sighed again and put his coffee cup on the table, allowing Matt to come sit on his lap. “I didn't understand what they were going through. I knew you were sick, but I was just afraid something would happen to you, and then I wouldn't know what to do. I feel so horrible about it, and I wish I could redo these past three years.”

“So why are you here now?”

“I heard through the grapevine that your mom was having a baby, and I wanted to come up here to see if I could make amends for my behavior.”

“You talk to grapes?”

Ron laughed and hugged Matt. “No, it just a phrase.” All conversation became serious. “Matthew, will you forgive me for all I've done?” Matthew nodded; glad to be hugged by his uncle. “I should have been there for you during your treatments. But I promise, if you ever need me from now on, I'll be there for you.”

Matt sat with Ron in the waiting room for a very long time. The darkness of early morning faded into a sunrise, the sunrise faded into a beautiful morning, and the beautiful morning became a bright afternoon. Finally, around 3:30 in the afternoon, a nurse came out and announced that Baby Potter had arrived. Matt and Ron headed for Hermione's hospital room to welcome Matt's sibling to the world.

When they walked in, the room was dim. Harry met them at the door, face beaming with pride. When he saw Ron, he gave a questionable look, but when Ron grabbed him in a hug of apology, both men were smiling through tears. Matt left them to their own devices and went to see his mother, lying quietly on the bed with a baby in her arms. He perched on the side of her bed and smiled in a way that made her heart melt.

“Oh, Matthew, come meet the baby!” Matthew edged closer to her and gave her a hug before looking at his sibling for the first time. “This is your brother, Matthew!”

Baby and brother looked at each other for a moment, Matthew amazed at how small it was. “Mommy?”

“What is it, love?”

“Do you think it would be all right if the baby calls me Matt? And maybe other people too?”

Hermione looked at him in surprise. “Why ever do you ask that?”

He shrugged. “I've just been called Matt for three years, and I like it. I would like to meet the baby as Matt.”

Hermione smiled, tears in her eyes at the knowledge that her oldest son was growing up. “If that's what you want to be called, that's fine by me. It will just take me a while to get used to calling you that.”

Matt shook his head. “I don't mind if you and Daddy still call me Matthew.” She smiled, knowing exactly what he was taking about.

“Where's the new kid?” Ron came forward with a smile and Hermione looked at him warily.

“Ron?”

“Hermione, I am so sorry for everything. Will you please forgive me?”

Hermione gave him a smug look before softly nodding.

As the old friends began to talk and Ron was allowed to hold the baby, a nurse came to take the him to the nursery.

“Love, I'm going to need to get some sleep. You go with Ron and your father.”

“Okay, Mommy. `Bye.”

Matt went to his father and took his hand. Ron followed and the three of them headed up to the nursery. They peered through the glass at all the babies before finding Baby Potter. Harry held Matt up to see over the wooden bar.

“He's so little!”

“Yes, I know. But he'll grow, just like you have!”

“Matt! Which one is Baby Potter?” Dr. Regina had arrived and walked towards them briefly.

“That one.” Matt pointed towards a little blue covered crib. “I'd like you to meet my brother, Jeremiah Isaac Potter.”

When Dr. Regina heard the baby's name, tears sprang to her eyes.

“Do you not like it?”

“Oh, no, dear.” Dr. Regina smiled. “I think it's a perfect name, and I hope this little guy is able to live up to both of his namesakes.”

Harry nodded. “Jeremiah Isaac seemed to be the only suitable name we could come up with.”

“How do you feel to be a big brother, Matt?”

“Can I teach him how to fly?”

Harry laughed, thankful that his son no longer thought that young death was his fate. “You'll have to wait until he's big enough, plus, you need to learn how to fly on your own.”

“Can I start learning soon?” Harry smiled.

“As soon as it gets warm enough.”

The nurse came out of the nursery and allowed Harry and Matt to go inside to see the baby. Harry held his son first, beaming in amazement. It was all just so amazing, that this little guy was a part of him. He could have held him forever, in the length of his arm, but Matt stood beside them longingly. Harry knelt down to his older son and looked at him.

“Matthew, do you want to hold Jeremiah?” He nodded vigorously and Harry showed him how to hold him correctly. When Harry finally let go, Matt just stood in awe, looking down at his tiny little brother. He felt a strong sense of pride and ideas began to run through his head of all the things they would do together when Jeremiah was old enough.

Matt was very glad to be alive and very thankful that he was alive to be there for that moment in time.

-->

Chapter 23:

Celebration Again

The life that had once seemed like a constant roller coaster was now finally beginning to get on level ground for the Potters. Their lives grew into a constant state of normality after they brought Jeremiah home. By Dr. Powers's orders, Matt hadn't had chemo since a week or so before Jeremiah was born. Because they didn't have to go to the hospital weekly, the family was now able to have time to be a normal family. Every morning, they woke up, Matt with an unnatural amount of energy, and sat down at the table together for breakfast. Jeremiah always sat in his little high chair and watched his family with his big brown eyes.

Life went by quickly, and soon Jeremiah was three and a half months old and Matt was celebrating his 6^th birthday. This birthday seemed so much more special than any other preceding it: Matt was feeling fine, Ron was back in their lives, and Jeremiah was there. Matt had never before felt better. And he knew he was getting physically better, too. He hadn't had chemo in months, and Dr. Powers had told him that he thought remission was just around the corner. Matt hoped the doctor was right in his hypothesis. Matt couldn't wait to get better so he could get back to doing things normal kids did.

Harry and Hermione were ready for June 28^th to come. That day would tell them if Matt was finally in remission or if he had to continue with treatments. The whole family was so confident that Matt would get a clean bill of health, but Harry was scared to death that the cancer might have increased instead of decreasing as they had thought. He knew that it was up to God whether or not to cure his precious Matthew, but his heart was wary, wondering how he would cope if remission was not a part of God's plan.

Hermione, on the other hand, had no doubt in her mind that Matt's remission would be announced. As she saw him holding Jeremiah carefully, talking to him like he was a grown-up, she felt certain there was no way that his fate could be anything but life. But despite her motherly instinct, she was anxiously awaiting June 28^th, not knowing whether it would be as she thought or not.

When the awaited day finally arrived, Matt felt a sense of destiny. He knew that this test would determine his fate, but for some strange reason, he felt no fear or worry. He only felt the same contentment that he had felt for a full year.

The family walked into the hospital the same way they had for the past three years. They took the same elevator to the same floor as always. They met Dr. Powers, but seeing he was busy, they situated themselves in the waiting room, Matt playing with Jeremiah and making him give his adorable baby laughs. Hermione knew that the two were already forming a strong relationship that would make them inseparable as time went on.

After waiting for quite a while, Dr. Powers came into them.

“Good morning, Potters. Are you ready to get a blood test, Matt?” He shrugged and Dr. Powers laughed. “I don't like needles either, but this may be the last time in a while that you'll need to have a blood sample taken. Come on, let's go.” Matt followed him cheerily to the hospital room and reached his arms up to be lifted onto the table. Dr. Powers went to the cabinet and extracted a strip of rubber and tied it to the upper part of Matt's arm. He withdrew a long, slender needle, and, after having Matt ball up his hand, plunged it into his vein. Harry squirmed to watch the blood go into the tube as he looked at his son. This boy who had been so deathly afraid of needles three years ago now sat quite sedately, talking calmly to the doctor as the needle was still in his arms. In a way, it was amazing, but then again, it wasn't too miraculous. This boy had faced sickness, tragedy, and death, and now a needle was as scary as a bowl of fruit.

Before long, the necessary amount of blood was extracted and Matt was free to go to the waiting area with his family. The time dragged by at an abnormally slow rate for Harry as he sat listlessly staring at the clock. He wanted to know what would happen to his son, not sit in a room.

Finally, a nurse came into the room and called the family into an examination room. As they walked towards the room, Harry's heart pounded and he felt sweat form on his brow. This hadn't been his battle, but he felt like he had fought right along with the real warrior.

As soon as they got situated in the room, Dr. Powers came in, his eyes downcast. Harry felt a hard lump form in his throat from the fear of what he knew Dr. Powers would say. He felt Hermione tense beside him, but he was to numb to reach out and hold her hand.

“Matt,” Dr. Powers said. “Come over here, please. I want to show you something.” Matt tilted his head curiously and hopped off of the table and went to Dr. Powers' side. He smiled down at Matt calmly and pulled a chart out of an envelope.

“This is what your blood looked like three years ago when you first came to us.” The picture was completely covered with little x's that the lab must have created. “All the x's were your bad cells.” Dr. Powers pulled out another picture and turned it over slowly. “This is your blood now.” Matt looked it over carefully, his eyes widening with what he saw.

“Does this mean that I'm…” Matt asked, crossing his fingers hopefully.

“You're cancer-free.” Dr. Powers said as he held up an x-free paper. Hermione cried out and ran to hug Matt. Harry blinked at the picture, barely able to believe what he was seeing. His heart felt like it would burst with the joy that he felt.

“Doctor, thank you so much.” Harry some how found the movement to shake his hand. Dr. Powers smiled and nodded.

“Your son fought for all he was worth.”

Harry smiled and knelt down to pick up Matt as he ran into his arms. Harry held him tightly and began to sob openly into Matt's hair. The hardest thing that Harry had ever had to do was to watch his son battle cancer. But now, that cancer was gone… he couldn't even describe his joy. Getting his letter to Hogwarts, winning the war against Voldemort, marrying Hermione… All were wonderful times, but none so wonderful as this moment in time.

“Doctor…” Hermione had stood up and was looking at the man with a misty, pale look in her eyes. “Will it come back?”

Dr. Powers shrugged slowly. “There's always that risk. If you guys notice any signs that Matt may be feeling bad, bring him in to us. Otherwise, he'll need to have a check-up every six months for about two years. If he's still in remission, his chance of ever getting cancer again will be the same as any other person.”

She nodded, glad to know of the chance but even more thankful to know that for the moment, her son was okay.

When they found Dr. Regina and told her the news, she began to cry uncontrollably and hug Matt as tightly as she could.

“Jeremiah would be so happy,” was all she could say.

As they walked out of the hospital, everything seemed brighter to Matt. He had survived against all odds. He felt so content, but there was one idea that he couldn't put out of his mind.

“Daddy,” He said from his seat atop Harry's shoulder. “Do you think we could stop somewhere on the way home?” He told Harry of his idea, and Harry nodded slowly.

“I think that would be just fine.”

A/N: Did anybody really think I would kill Matt? I might have killed Jeremiah, but there was no way in heaven or earth that I would have let Matt die! Also, sorry that this chapter took a while to write, I had brain freeze-up. I know it's really not the greatest chapter, but my mind has been on other things lately, and I apologize. The last two chapters will be greatly improved.

-->

Chapter 24:

Visiting Jeremiah's Grave

They had dropped Hermione and Jeremiah off at home. What Matt had planned would take some time, and Jeremiah would have gotten cranky and tired while he and his parents waited in the car.

Harry knew that he should probably go with his son down the broken road of the desolate cemetery, but he decided that it was something that Matt had to do alone. They pulled the SUV down the long country road, neither father nor son speaking. Harry pulled up beside a stone fence and parked the car. Matt gave him a little look of acknowledgement and got out of the car. Harry got out, too, and perched upon the stonewall, able to see his son but not interfere. He watched as Matt walked slowly and respectfully down the pathway, looking carefully at all the headstones. He paused at some, eyes downcast in a respectful demeanor; others he passed without a second glance. Finally, at the end of the third row of graves, Matt stopped suddenly, looked at the new, granite heading, and sat carefully in front of it, careful not to hit a bouquet of flowers that lay before it.

Matt leaned forward and touched the bouquet of pink flowers gently with his forefinger. A lump formed in his throat, but he bravely swallowed it back. He had learned to read more than he had when Missy Lyn was still alive: enough that he could read every word on the tombstone.

Jeremiah Lucas Bryant

June 28^th 1976—March 21^st 1995

Matt felt tears brimming and gave a deep sigh.

“Hey, Jeremiah.” His monologue to the stone began.

“I don't really know what I want to say to you, just I miss you lots. When you first died, I thought of all the things I didn't have the chance to say to you, but now I can't remember them.

“I made it, Jeremiah. I'm in remission, and I don't think it will come back. For a while, they didn't think I'd make it, but your aunt talked to me. She told me you wouldn't want me to give up and die, so I kept on fighting.

“Mommy had a baby in March. We named him Jeremiah Isaac Potter, Jeremiah after you, and Isaac after your hero. I hope you don't mind. Daddy thought it the only suitable name for a boy. He's growing real big; he's three months old now. I get to teach him how to fly and do everything like that when he's older. I want to be to him what you were to me.

“You know Sierra? She told me that she loved you all along. I guess she brought these pink roses, cause she's a girl, and, well, pink. She told me that she regretted not telling you how she felt. Just thought I should let you know, so now there's nothing sad for you. I hope the fact that she loves you is making you smile down from heaven.

“How is everyone up there? I mean, are Jerrod, Missy Lyn, and Keith up there with you? If they are, tell them all I said hello. I miss them, too, especially Keith. It feels kinda weird being the only survivor. But I guess that's God's plan for me.

“Are you guys playing Nintendo? I never did beat your high score. Guess I never will. But other than your gaming skills, I want to be just like you in every other way. I want to be the hero to baby Jeremiah that you were to me. I want to be there for him and watch him grow and be his best friend. Uncle Ron says that brothers always fight, but I want to prove him wrong. By the way, he apologized to Mommy and Daddy, so I get to see him again. I missed him a lot, but at least he's here now.

“Ever since you left, I've missed you, Jeremiah. I know I won't see you again until I die, and I know you're really happy now, but I keep wishing you were somehow here again. I know it's mean, wanting to take you from paradise, but I really miss you.” Tears began to form in his eyes, but this time he didn't even try to force them to stop.

“I'm finally ready to say what I've wanted to say ever since you died. You helped me get through the leukemia better than any chemotherapy could. Your aunt gave me my drawing that you kept in your wallet. She says hello, by the way, and that she loves and misses you. I didn't know you really thought of me as your best friend, cause I'm so much younger than you. But you really are the best friend I'll ever have, and I'll be lucky to find anyone who can be as good a friend as you were. You're my big brother and best friend, but you were also my hero.” His tears came in great heaving sobs and he bent his head to try to relieve the pressure from the fluid.

“Thank you for everything you did for me. I just wish you had survived, too. But I guess God's plan was for you to leave when you did. I don't know why, but maybe it has made me stronger, since it didn't kill me. You were always my hero, and even now, you still are my hero.” He grew silent and stroked the rose petal absentmindedly as the tears flowed from his eyes. As he sat in front of Jeremiah's grave, a ray of sunlight beamed down on Matt's head and a robin lighted on the stone. Matt smiled through his tears and watched the robin breathlessly. He slowly moved his hand up to brush away his tears and continued to watch the robin, seeing it as a sign of courage, love, hope, and every other good emotion it was possible to possess in a human body.

Having said all he needed to say, he bid Jeremiah farewell and reached into his back pocket to pull something out. He brushed the pocket lint off of it and placed it carefully beside the roses. As he walked away, the little hot rod he had left gleamed in the sunlight, serving to Matt a reminder of his first year with Jeremiah and all that ensued.

He walked to the other warrior's graves and spoke briefly to them as well, but none so much as what he had said to Jeremiah. At Missy Lyn's grave, he place a thornless red rose on her empty grave.

Visiting the graveyard had been a peaceful experience. He thought of cemeteries as a soft sleeping ground instead of a scary horror movie. The whole experience had given him peace and a feeling of closure. He walked slowly back to the stonewall, his eyes puffy from tears but a huge, genuine smile spread across his face. Harry saw him approach and got off of the wall, meeting him a fourth of the way down the path. He scooped him up in his arms and kissed his head softly.

“Hey, little man.”

Matt smiled. “We can leave now.”

Harry looked at him with a parental look. “Are you sure? We can stay longer if you need.”

Matt shook his head with a smile. “No, I'm finished.” Harry put him back down on the ground, but Matt kept holding his Daddy's hand.

“Daddy?”

“What is it, Matthew?”

“Thanks for bringing me here.”

Harry smiled. “It was no problem. If you ever need to visit again, just tell me, okay?”

“Okay.” they walked a way in silence. “Hey, Daddy?”

“Yes, Matthew?”

“I love you, Daddy.”

“I love you, too, my little warrior.” Both Potter men smiled and walked off to their car, smiles on their faces, the sun on their face. One chapter of their life was over, and only the future lay ahead. Matt was a little scared of what may happen, but he knew that after all that had happened to him, he could face whatever was thrown in his path.

As Harry and Matt walked to the car, the robin flew over their heads, gave a short chirp, and flew off into the sunset.

-->

Chapter 25:

Solitary Survivor

A/N: Here it is, the last chapter of our emotional roller coaster. Thanks to all my readers, and all those who have put so much time and tears into this story. Look for the upcoming sequel, Child Survivor, Hero, Friend. Also, thanks to my real life Matthew, without whom none of my stories would be so heartfelt and my life would be so much less musical, colorful, and all around beautiful. You are my inspiration, and I thank God everyday for allowing me to be a part of your life.

Two Years Later

Matt Potter: 8 years old

“Well, Matt. Everything looks good as usual. We won't need to see you again, but your regular doctor will need to give you a check-up annually.”

Matt jumped down off of the hospital bed, so much taller than he was years earlier that the jump wasn't half as big as it used to be. He gave Dr. Powers a big smile and shook his hand heartily.

“Thanks, doctor. I'm glad to hear it.”

Dr. Powers shook his hand, eyes soft with emotion at how much the little three-year-old wizard he had first met had grown. “I'm glad, too. You're a little success story, and I've loved to be a part of it.”

A silence fell at what was to be a long goodbye. Matt turned to Hermione and two-year-old Jeremiah who were both sitting in a chair in the corner. “I guess it's time to go, Mom. Thanks for everything, Dr. Powers.”

“Thank you, Matt. I guess this is goodbye.”

“For a month. I'm running the survivor lap at Relay for Life. You are going, right?”

He gave an elfish chuckle. “Of course.”

Jeremiah slipped out of Hermione's lap and toddled over to Matt, arms extended upward. Matt knelt down and picked up his brother. Hermione stood up and shook Dr. Powers' hand.

“Thanks, Dr. Powers. See you in a month.”

“Take care, you guys.” Hermione patted Matt on the back and pulled her car keys out of her purse.

“Come on, boys. We've got to go home so we can finish arithmetic!” Since Matt had missed his first year or two of school, Hermione was home-schooling him until it was time for Hogwarts. “We also need to get something for supper tonight.” Jeremiah looked at her in excitement.

“Do we gets mac n cheese?” Hermione laughed and touched his face gently.

“Maybe, love. Here, come to me so brother doesn't have to carry you all the way to the car.” Jeremiah was transferred to her, and the three loaded onto the elevator.

As the elevator went on its downward descent, Matt grew unusually quiet. He could see his reflection in the elevator's shiny doors, and for some reason, it did something strange to his emotions. The reflection was nothing special, just a mirror of his black hair, green eyes, and sun-kissed face, but it struck in him the miracle of life.

He was nothing special, just an eight year old boy. He was no better than any other person, no different from those who hadn't beat the cancer that had once ravaged his body. And yet, he survived, and the others didn't. It was such a simple thing to state, and an impossible thing to comprehend. He had lost so much, gone through more than any of his peers would ever understand. In the course of only three years, he had lost one who had seen him as an equal, one who loved him, one who was a friend for the short time he was alive, and one who was a best friend, hero, and big brother all in one. All of those who were dead had taught him valuable things that he knew would be kept close to his heart for all his life. From, Jerrod, he had learned that your life is what you make it, and that if you looked at life negatively, life would be negative. From Missy Lyn, he learned of love and innocence, from Keith he learned friendship and courage. And from Jeremiah, well, Jeremiah had taught him the most. Overall, it was really overwhelming, and still Matt stood strong. He had survived for a reason, but he really didn't know what it was. All he could do was trust that God would bring him through the road ahead.

The elevator doors opened and the bright light of the lobby hit Matt's eyes. He blinked to clear them and stepped out of the elevator. It was the last time he would ever step off of that elevator, the elevator he had ridden for five years. He touched the button console softly and stepped off, careful to not let his mother read his thoughts. He waved good-bye to the same receptionist and stepped through the hospital doors and into his future.

One Month Later…

Matt walked around the track solemnly, as he had for the past two years. He was so thankful that he was alive to be a part of the Relay for Life Survivor lap, and he couldn't help but feel proud at the cheers of his family, but it always humbled him to realize how miraculous his existence was.

He was the only cancer child from that certain time period of the hospital to ever walk out of the hospital, cancer-free. He had gone against all odds of his demise and survived. True, Matthew Potter was no one particularly special, but everything about him was a miracle. He had first entered the hospital, a sickly child. He had fought the disease of death that pulsed with the life within his wrist. And even though the odds were against him, he had beaten the cancer, a solitary survivor. The future was unclear, but Matt's future was brighter than anything he could have ever imagined before cancer. God had brought him through it for a reason, and he would never take a moment of the life he had so graciously been given for granted.

As he walked, Jeremiah's words from the first Relay for Life played in his head.

Whenever you are able to walk that first lap, I'll be right there with you the whole time, every step of the way.

Matt smiled, realizing that Jeremiah had kept his word. He was there now, every step of the way, and he knew that no matter where the paths of life may take him, the things that he had learned in the hardest time of his life would give him guidance and wisdom, and his life would never be the same.

The chapter of his life with cancer had come to a close, and a whole book was before him, the pages blank so he could write the remainder of his story.

Fin

A/N: It is finished at last. To all those who have been asking, here is the story of the real life Matthew.

The real Matthew was diagnosed with leukemia at age 2. I did not know him at this time; this story is based off a central story and created solely from my imagination. All that I know for certain about the real Matt's bout with leukemia is this: He was so little when he got it, that his parents didn't think he would make it. He underwent treatments at a hospital similar to the one in this story with about ten other kids. The other patients died off one by one, and Matthew kept getting sicker and weaker. His parents really thought that he would die; his little brother was born as a result. There was no Jeremiah, no Missy Lyn, but I like to think that some of the people that were at the hospital with him were like these. Somehow, though, he began to fight, and, through God's grace and mercy, Matthew survived and went into remission at age 5. He, too, was a solitary survivor. He fought the battle to gain his life, and I live in constant thankfulness of his miraculous existence. He is currently 15, almost 16, and living his life to the absolute fullness.

This story was originally written for Matthew's parents. They are the strongest, nicest, most God-fearing people I have ever met in my life, and I love them like my own parents. His father was the one who originally told me of his leukemia. I heard him say that Matthew's leukemia was the hardest thing he had ever had to go through, thus the title of this story. After seeing Matthew's experiences in the hospital, his mother became a registered nurse in an attempt to help others who were living with an illness. Matthew's brother doesn't remember anything about his brother's illness, but once he was told the story, he appreciated his brother more, and the two are absolute best friends, despite their five-year age difference.

Matthew's whole family has been completely changed by Matthew's incredible life, bringing them closer together as a family and closer to God.

Matthew likes to help leukemia fighters, and he still walks the first lap at the Relay for Life every year, ten years after his remission.

-->