A/N: And with this, it comes to an end.
Luck of the Irish
For each petal on the Shamrock brings a wish your way. Good health, good luck, and happiness for today and every day.
Rain poured down on the concrete streets of the British capital and dark clouds filled every inch of the sky. It was the type of weather that drove nearly everyone inside; everyone except one man. He braved the rain with his umbrella clutched tightly in his hand. The last time he had been in a situation like this, his umbrella had inverted and ripped down the seam. This time, he held it in such a fashion that he still kept dry but the wind couldn't get at it.
As the rain fell and created a rhythmic pitter-patter on the pavement, his thoughts drifted to the not so distant past. He first thought of that fateful day, the last time he had been forced out into the rain. His life had changed that day. At the time it seemed like the end of his life. The months leading up to the day his umbrella inverted, Seamus Finnigan had experienced some of the worst luck, but it was nothing compared to finding out that the love of your life was marrying your best friend. That had nearly broken him.
Looking back on it now he knew it was just the end of one part of his life. His love for Karina James –the first girl to ever pay him any attention- had slowly ebbed away and given way to a new love. He felt much deeper, more passionate feelings for the infuriating Canadian witch Lucy McCarthy, than he had ever felt for Kari. He couldn't quite say that Kari had only been an adolescent crush, it still felt like much more than that; he was only sure that she hadn't been the love of his life.
A car rushed by, sending water up onto the sidewalk, and broke Seamus out of his thoughts. He had been walking too far from the road to be soaked –a lesson he had learned from being soaked several times by a car. It had been splashing sound itself that had alerted the Irish man to reality. He took a quick look at the nearest store front to regain his bearings and found out that he had walked nearly a block lost in thought. He only had another two blocks to go before his destination. He quickened his pace as excitement overtook him.
He reached the run down clothing store in another five minutes, the cold of the rain starting to soak through his coat. He had decided to simply walk to St. Mungo's as opposed to Apparate because he was only about ten blocks away. It would take him a little under a half an hour, and –on a very sunny day- it would have been a nice leisurely outing. He had been so couped up at work lately that he hadn't been paying much attention, and, when he left the building, it had yet to start raining. Ten minutes into his outing was when it started and by that time, he was already just about halfway there. It would be silly to abandon the walk.
As he stood before the dilapidated store front, a sign told him that it had once been occupied by a clothing store by the name of Purge and Dowse, Ltd. He turned to a dummy dressed in out-dated clothing and then took a quick survey of the area around him. He had to make sure there were no prying eyes before initiating his next task. Finding himself alone, Seamus began speaking as if the dummy could hear him.
"Mr. Finnigan to see Healer Watson. I have an appointment," he added the last bit for good measure to assure he would be granted entry. The mannequin took a moment then nodded slightly and pointed it's finger. Seamus nodded his thanks, even though the dummy would not respond to this action, and then slipped through the glass.
The reception area was the same as always, filled with witches and wizards waiting on loved ones or to be given healing. Seamus stepped passed the waiting crowd and the line waiting for assistance by the welcome witch. This wasn't his first time to see Healer Watson and he knew exactly where to go.
He toured through the many hallways and climbed a few sets of stairs before arriving at a pastel coloured ward. Light pinks, greens, blues, and yellows, covered the walls, floors, and desks. It was here, in this serene place, that Seamus' life was about to change even more than when he had met Lucy, five years prior.
Here in this ward of the hospital was also a small waiting area, not as busy as the main area downstairs but still occupied by several people. Seamus quickly glanced at each face in turn, looking for the one he recognized.
He found her near the back of the room, a novel clutched in her hands. Her auburn hair fell lightly onto her shoulders and her eyes raced rapidly across the page as she eagerly consumed the words. A smile crossed Seamus' face as he easily made his way towards her. When he was a few feet from her, she looked up and met his eyes.
"I was wondering when you would get here. You're very nearly late," she admonished, a smile crossing her face.
"Sorry," he replied, taking the seat next to her, "took longer to get here than I had planned." She nodded at his words, to say she heard them, and then returned to her book. Seamus chose not to interrupt her. He had quickly learned that, if she wanted to talk to him, she would. If he tried to talk to her when she didn't want to, it would mean a severe verbal lashing. She wasn't always this crabby; it had only started about four months ago.
At first, Seamus had been very concerned. Lucy had always been infuriating with her literal way of thinking and her near constant sardonic tone, but never downright mean. It had been very off-putting until he discovered the reason for her attitude. It was the very reason they were currently sitting in the waiting room of St. Mungo's maternity ward. When Lucy had first informed Seamus, shortly after she herself found out, he was overjoyed. He could just picture a little girl, with Lucy's hair and eyes running around their flat. His life had seemed complete before, but now he couldn't even see how he had thought that. It wouldn't be complete until the child slowly maturing in his wife's stomach arrived in the world.
"Mrs. Finnigan," a sweet voice called through the crowd and Seamus' thoughts, "Healer Watson is ready for you, if you would care to follow me." The couple got up and followed the nurse through a few hallways towards a small collection of doors behind which examination rooms were concealed. The nurse pointed to a slightly ajar door and told the two to wait there for the Healer.
Today's appointment would show the baby's sex for the first time, something both were eagerly awaiting. Seamus swore that they were having a girl, hoped and prayed that they would. Lucy on the other hand, said it felt more like a boy, though she couldn't explain it any more than that. Today would mean an end to the small feud that had developed in the Finnigan household.
Seamus sat in bed that night, reading the bits of the paper he hadn't that morning. Lucy stood before the bathroom mirror, wiping her face with a cloth to rid it of the dirt that had accumulated there over the day. It was their traditional night-time routine. The only difference about today was the fact that Lucy couldn't restrain the large smile that continually graced her face. The healer had performed her tests and come back with the news that Seamus and Lucy were, like she had known, were indeed having a boy.
"You know," Lucy spoke as she entered the average sized bedroom and tore Seamus away from the Prophet, "now that we know the sex of the baby, we might want to start thinking about what we're going to name him. Do you have any ideas?" Seamus thought about it for a minute before shaking his head.
Lucy didn't blame him. They hadn't started discussing what they were going to call their baby; it was only four months into the pregnancy. They still had plenty of time. There was just something urging Lucy to bring the topic up now. The time just felt right. She too hadn't considered any name in particular, but she had been reading baby name books along with her parenting guides.
One particular name always seemed to stand out. It was Irish, which Lucy found fitting considering the baby would be half-Irish, but it was the meaning that had Lucy so sure it would be the perfect name for her son. When she had first met Seamus on that fateful St. Patrick's Day, he had been living through an unlucky patch that had lasted several months. Naming their son after this time period in their lives seemed right.
"I thought, maybe, Devlin would be nice. How about you?"
Seamus thought about it for a minute before responding. "You know, I'm not feeling so unlucky right now."
A/N: Well, this is a very satisfying feeling! I have finished my first ever multi-chapter fic! Marking this story will feel so amazing; especially after all the re-writes this took to finally reach what you see now.
I would like to take this time to thank each and every person who reviewed this story. Every word you wrote to me meant so much. It meant people were appreciating all the effort I put into each chapter. It meant that you liked it enough to take the small amount of time out of your day to say something about it, and, in turn, make my day. So thank you to everyone who has reviewed this story. If it weren't for you I might never have reached this point!
I would also like to make note that Devlin means son of the unlucky one… just to clear up that little bit.
And, for the final time, I will request your kind words in the form of a review. It would mean the world to me! Thank you!