The white halls of St. Mungo's were clean and cold as Severus paced. Harry was curled up into a ball on the chairs just outside the room Lily was in. The little boy was asleep. Severus sighed agitatedly and joined Harry on the seat next to him. He smoothed the wayward strands of hair from Harry's forehead. There was nothing to do except wait. And wait. And wait. It was driving him insane. Severus just had to know how Lily was.

She's going to be fine. I know she will. She always pulls through.

Why did she collapse? There was nothing wrong. She had been laughing right before she fell to the ground. Severus pressed the heels of his hands onto his forehead. In all his experience with Potions and a small background in Healing, he could not think of a single illness that would strike someone down just like that. A tear escaped his eye. He dashed it away impatiently and continued to wait.

"Mr Snape?" the Healer's voice called softly some time later. Severus got to his feet in an instant and gathered Harry in his arms. His heart plummeted to the bottom of his chest when he saw the Healer's face. This wasn't good.

"Mr Snape, I'm afraid we have bad news..." the Healer trailed off. Severus bumped him aside and ran into Lily's room. He saw her lying on the bed, as though she was asleep. Her brilliant green eyes were closed and she wore a serene expression. Just as she had been when she was laughing. But Severus knew better. The boy in arms was asleep but his mother was not.

Severus stood next to the bed. He didn't know what to think. He couldn't think. The Healer joined his side. "Mr Snape, my name is Healer Rowan Moore. I'm afraid your wife has passed away. Her whole body just shut down. Its a silent killer in the wizarding world. The body decides that it's simply not going to work anymore. We don't know anything else about this disease as it is so obscure. We don't even have the funds to start researching." Severus stayed silent and Healer Moore sighed and continued.

"I'm so sorry for your loss, I'll let be right outside if you need me." With that, Healer Moore left the room.

Severus was in shock. He saw Lily's body lying out in front of him, but he wasn't really seeing. He did not believe what he saw. It had not sunk in. He cradled Harry closer to his chest. The boy had not woken up yet and Severus didn't want him to wake now. He turned and tripped out of the hospital room in a daze. As soon as he left the room, it all came flooding back.

"Silly Daddy! You're not old."

"When do you think you'll finish it, Mummy?"

"Very soon, I expect."

The family rolling on the floor, laughing hysterically.

Then... The sound of Lily's body hitting the floor.

"Lily!"

"Lily!" Severus let out an anguished sob. He stuffed Harry into the arms of a startled Healer Moore and ran back into the room. He barely made it back to Lily's still form before collapsing at the bed side, shaking with sobs.

Severus didn't, couldn't, say anything. He was beyond that. He cried harder and harder, the heart-rending sobs clawing out of his throat. He felt a hand on his shoulder, but he didn't respond. How could he feel anything now? The most important person in his whole life had left with no warning. Lily would never prance into a room in that dancing way of hers, she would never stare starry-eyed at the night sky, a million thoughts flying across her mind, she would no longer laugh at his jokes. God, she would never, ever pick up her knitting again. Lily was gone. She was gone and was never coming back.

***

"Healer Moore, Alfred is asking for the file- Healer Moore?" a young trainee Healer was trying to get Healer Moore's attention. She knew that a young man and a little boy had come in with a red-headed woman, but other than that, she wasn't quite sure what was going on.

"Healer Moore, are you alright?" she was met with a blank expression on his lined face. She was startled. Her mentor was always so sure of himself and precise in his movements. Now he just seemed lost. He spoke in a low voice.

"Do you know how hard it is to lose a patient? You try everything, everything. All you want is for their heart to just keep beating but it doesn't. They die. And a part of you dies with them. You've failed. It's not just yourself you've failed either. The patient's friends and family, all of them are relying on you." Moore sunk low in his chair, dragging a hand across his weary face.

"As a Healer you are trained for these things to happen. But it doesn't soften the blow. Do you know how old that lady was?" The trainee Healer shook her head. She assumed he was talking about the red-haired lady. Healer Moore had not verbalised it, but she was sure she had passed.

"Twenty three. Just twenty three. You should have seen her husband. I have never seen anyone that distraught. He obviously loved her a great deal."

"Did he go home? He had a child with him too..." the trainee trailed off. Another child had lost his mother. A wave of pity washed through her. How awful. She busied herself making some coffee, an unbidden tear falling from her lashes.

"A friend came for him and his child. Lupin, I believe his name was. He said he would take them back to his place." A steaming mug of coffee was passed to him by his student. Moore smiled at her in thanks and took an invigourating sip.

He had seen many cases like that of Lily Snape's. Five other witches and wizards died from the same or similar symptoms in the past month. It was always the same. The completely normal behaviour followed by a sudden paling of the face and collapsing soon after. The victims were all quite young too, between the ages of twenty and thirty. The worst part of it was that no one had any idea what was causing these sudden deaths. As Head Healer, Moore had teams of people working on this mysterious new disease, but to no avail. The long and short of it was that they had no clue where to start and hardly any funding from the Ministry of Magic. This made research extremely difficult. The hospital needed money, but the Minster for Magic, Millicent Bagnold insisted on training camps for Aurors and the like. It was infuriating.

Moore heaved a great sigh and gulped down the rest of his coffee. He got to feet. It was time for him to leave. "Are you alright to finish up here, Jones?"

"Yes sir. Have a safe trip home. I'll see you tomorrow." the young trainee answered.

"Good night Jones." Moore left his office and walked down the stairs. He passed the room he tried to revive Lily Snape. He noticed that someone had taken away her body. Shaking his head, he walked down another flight of stairs into the reception.

A cacophony of noise greeted him, with witches and wizards suffering from various ailments rushing to the welcome witch. Despite his despondent mood, Moore had to smirk at the witch's face. He couldn't imagine having her job. With a slight inclination of the head in her direction (which was met with a glare), Moore left the building and strolled to the Underground.

He liked taking Muggle transportation. It helped him think. As soon as he boarded the train, the hustle and bustle of the day suddenly seemed insignificant and trivial. It wasn't of course, but sometimes it was nice to feel that it was.

It wasn't that he disliked his job. Quite the opposite actually. Nothing could ever beat the feeling of successfully healing a patient or a making a new medicinal discovery. Except getting married, of course. He smiled softly at what his wife of 35 years would say if he said he felt better doing his job than how he felt on his wedding day.

Nevertheless, no amount of past experience was ever enough when a patient died. His thoughts strayed to the husband of Mrs Snape, Severus and their child. How awful must it be to lose someone like that. Moore wasn't able to get much out of Mr Snape, but he heard him mumble something like "she was laughing". At least Lily Snape was happy when she died.

When Mr Snape passed his son to him when he rushed back into Mrs Snape's room, the little boy woke up. Moore remembered saying him that his name was Harry and other titbits of three year old babble. Poor little Harry.

He found a seat next to an elderly lady as the train left the station with a groan. The lady was knitting. Moore was suddenly reminded of an innocent question he overheard little green-eyed Harry asking his father earlier on.

When will mummy wake up and finish knitting me my jumper?

So she was knitting her son her jumper? Moore closed his eyes sadly. It was unlikely that the garment would ever be completed now. A sudden surge of anger charged through him. This whole situation was so unfair! The hospital needed funding right this instant if a cure for this unknown disease was to be found. Otherwise, if the statistics of the people who were dying from this disease were correct and the figures kept rising, an entire generation would die out!

As the train lurched to a halt, Moore stood up to exit. He was still thinking about Mr Snape and his son.

I will find a cure to the disease that claimed your wife Severus Snape. And if we don't get funding from the Ministry, we will find another way. I promise.

The blasted disease had taken too many lives. Healer Rowan Moore had had enough.