George
The waiting room of the hospital was horrible. It was full of muggles waiting to hear about their loved ones.
Fred was with me, Inez an Dove on their way.
The second I had apparated to the hospital, I went inside with her. I didn't care if no one saw me appear out of nowhere.
My wife was ill. Dahlia was ill.
How did we wake up this morning to her running a fever, to her losing her consciousness eight hours later.
"What could cause this?" I asked Fred as I paced back and forth the room. "She was fine and then she wasn't. I mean... she's been sick all day but she wasn't so bad that I thought she was going to— she joked about dying and I told her to stop, because I can't live in a world where she's—"
I shook my head, trying to shake the thoughts away.
"She isn't dead." Fred told me. "She's not dying."
"And what if she is?" I asked. "What about the kids? What are we going to do? If Dia—"
"George."
"I remember this feeling." I said. "When I saw you on the ground. When you supposedly died."
"Dahlia isn't dead."
"No." I breathed, closing my eyes. "She's not. She can't be. She's not."
The doors opened and I turned my attention on Inez who entered the room, followed by Dove.
"What happened?!" Inez shouted. "What's wrong with her? Why is she in the hospital?!"
"I—"
I sunk into a seat. I had no idea how to answer it. I was out of my mind, I was confused and I was terrified.
Dove was crying and when Fred exclaimed to them what had happened, Inez started to cry as well.
Soon we sat just the four of us in the waiting room, completely quiet, the only sound being some of the other people in here or the doctors informing other patients relatives.
"What about her siblings?" Inez asked, wiping her cheeks. "Henry and Nadine would want to know what is happening. Do you have their numbers? George?"
After processing her words for a moment, I pulled my phone out of my pocket, unlocked it and handed it to her so she could call them.
Fred looked at me and gave my shoulder a reassuring squeeze.
"She'll be okay."
I didn't answer. I stared at the floor, fighting my tears.
We sat in that room for what felt like hours before a doctor entered. A doctor that looked like the same one who took her when I arrived with her.
I was the first one to stand up, taking a step towards him.
"Is Dahlia okay?" I asked. "Tell me she's okay!"
He held up a hand as if telling me to hold on for a minute. He looked at me, then at Fred, Inez and Dove before his eyes landed on me again.
"You're her husband, right?"
I nodded.
"Dahlia has something called Pneumonia. Are you familiar?"
"No. What's that? Pneumonia? Is it fatal?"
"It can be." He nodded. "Pneumonia is swelling of the tissue in one or both lungs and is either caused by a virus or a bacteria. In Dahlia's case, she has both types and it has hit both of her lungs."
