Disclaimer: Not mine. If they were, I'd be taking a bath in a tub full of $100 dollar bills right now... :)
This also hasn't been looked at by my Beta (I'm sending it too you soon!), so all errors are mine. :)
Within a Narrow Circle
By BulletTimeScully
"Accept the things to which fate binds you, and love the people with whom fate brings you together, but do so with all your heart."
~ Marcus Aurelius
Chapter 1: Fate Be Kind
Silver moonlight, sharp and cold.
Frigid, biting wind that seeped into her very bones.
A field of virginal white, undisturbed by wizard or beast.
A gate of solid iron bars, watched over by two mammoth, winged boars covered in glittering frost.
Hogwarts.
The solitary woman looked through the great gates, out onto the vast expanse before her. The lights of the castle glimmered warmly in the distance, promising warmth and shelter, safety and comfort. He lived there, she knew, in the cold, damp dark of the castle. Except tonight, he would come out from his dungeons to patrol the grounds. It was his night for that unenviable task, as he had told her on many occasions. The last of which was months ago.
The memory of that last encounter, of his damp forehead nestled between her breasts as he talked of things past and present, brought a sad smile to her lips. She had become his confessor over the years and perhaps, if they were both generous, his friend. They shared no great love, no common interests or activities – aside from those of a carnal nature – nor did they ever meet or see each other outside of her boudoir. It was sad really; he was a good man. Perhaps he would make some witch happy one day, and himself in the process.
Her melancholy was interrupted by a deep, rasping cough. Her hand came up to cover her mouth, but not before a few flecks of bright-red fell to dot the pristine white at her feet. The blood was nothing new to her, the end result of too many hard years and too few precautions. She had a month, if she were damn lucky. She usually wasn't.
She wheezed and struggled through the coughing fit, the air refusing to enter her lungs fast enough or deep enough. A surge of fear swept over her, just as it did each time her body turned on itself like this. Finally, it ended, and she pulled in a long, shaky breath before turning her attention to the reason she had risked the journey here tonight.
Unlike the cruel, copper-taste reminding her of her imminent demise, the tiny bundle in her arms that fussed at being disturbed was new. So new, in fact, that the woman still felt the ache from its recent arrival. Wiping her blood-flecked hand on her robes, she crooned as she gazed down at the tiny being she had brought into the world such a short time ago, wondering if her plan would work, praying to the gods that it would. It must, or her child would perish.
Tears filled her eyes as she pulled her wand. With a twist of her wrist, she turned a fallen limb into a small Moses basket and cast a powerful warming charm over it. "I'm so sorry, little one," she said softly, "but it's all that I know to do." She swept a finger down the baby's tiny, pale cheek. "He will find you, I know he will." The whispered words were stoic and brave, everything the woman was not.
She pulled the child to her, inhaling the sweet scent that she knew she would never again partake of in this life. After that last desperate embrace, she placed the child in the basket and sat it as close to the gates as the wards would allow. They hummed lightly against her skin as she tucked a piece of rolled parchment next to the sleeping babe. She cast another warming charm over the basket along with a Notice Me spell, keyed to the presence of the child's father. Her magic had always been strong, even if her soul was weak – strange, that – so she had little doubt that he would find the child. As for what he would do afterwards… of that she could only hope and pray.
With a heavy heart, she stood and backed away. Then, with all the strength her failing body possessed, she Apparated away, her anguished "I'm sorry" lost to the ether.
In the basket, the tiny infant with raven's-wing hair and obsidian eyes – her father's eyes – slept on, oblivious to the outside world – a world which, in just a few short moments, had changed forever.
~ TBC
The title is from this quote:
"For the ordinary man is passive. Within a narrow circle he feels himself master of his fate, but against major events he is as helpless as against the elements. So far from endeavoring to influence the future, he simply lies down and lets things happen to him."
-George Orwell
Just a note: This story wouldn't leave me alone, so I wrote it down. It's not been looked at by my Beta, nor is it complete. Due to my three other WIPs, I will not post anymore of this story until I have it finished. Hopefully, as I know exactly how I want the story to go, I'll have it finished in the next month or so. I just wanted to give ya'll a heads up. :) I hope you like this first chapter, and I hope you'll continue to read once it's finished. Thanks so much!
BTS