The wind rustled across the shadowy expanse of land that surrounded the proud and elegant grounds of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, brushing up against the solid stone walls of the ancient structure. The breeze whistled through the openings in the masonry of the buildings that connect to each other and settled around a lone figure that leaned against one of the high structured ramparts spread out among the grounds.
The night time air covered the woman in a warm blanket and she closed her eyes with a smile as the summer night winds played in her blood red hair and among the folds of her midnight black robes. The moment was beautiful, the most peaceful and calm as any moment in the war against the darkness had been so far. Her smile grew wider as she felt the wards and magic that encompassed Hogwarts tremble alongside her presence. The stone beneath her feet seemed to feed off of her own more dangerous and volatile magic, strengthening the protections of the fine school.
"You're very predictable, my lady," an old and withered voice spoke behind her, the tone warm and soothing, just like the night air.
With her eyes still closed and her back turned to her visitor, she replied, "Only to you, Albus. No one else ever finds me."
A soft chuckle echoed in the atmosphere that surrounded the two and the woman slowly opened her eyes and turned to face the old man who had been by her side for many years. Her smile turned soft as she examined the wrinkles that surrounded his twinkling blue eyes and smiling, thin lips. More of the telling creases lined his forehead as well, but he retained a full head of long white hair that fell past his shoulders and a long white beard that was tied to keep from flying everywhere. He wore light blue robes with silver and white trimming and made him seem the wise old man that he was.
"It is good to see you again, my dear," Albus intoned in the silence between them. "You've been gone for far too long."
Her smile twitched only the slightest bit. "I've been busy. My daughter has finally given me a grandchild and I've been setting up the most powerful wards to keep my family safe," she replied. "War times aren't the best time to bring a child into the world."
Albus' sigh was one of remorse and sadness as he approached closer to the woman and looked out across the trees of the Forbidden Forest and the gentle waves of the Black Lake. "As many understand all too well," he replied. He tucked his hands behind his back before continuing. "Lily and James Potter have just received news that they too will be bringing another life into this world. Lily is, sadly, heartbroken that her child will live in such times but James is confident that he can protect them. There are other similar issues surrounding the Weasley and Longbottom clans but nothing can be done about it now. It is better that we enjoy what moments we can that are truly happy and without danger."
The woman bowed her head slightly and smiled to herself. "You are starting to sound like Nicholas. You've been hanging around him too much lately. I'm sure his poor wife misses his company. He should take her on a nice trip, although, I suppose they have seen more of the world than most," she said with amusement.
Another chuckle came from the man at her side. "I suppose your right. Minerva has been complaining about my spouts of philosophy to the students as of late," he replied.
"I'm sure," she returned with a small laugh of her own.
Silence then reined between the two companions as the woman leaned her head back to look up at the sky and view each of the stars and constellations that appeared. She could see the millennium alliances beginning to form in them and sighed remorsefully, knowing soon that she would have to enter the death sleep that would last until she would be needed again.
"That look never bodes well, Mi'lady," Albus said quietly. "Especially when it comes from you."
A small smile spread across her lips before she turned to her friend. "I know, Albus; but this time it has good and bad sides to it," she said. He gave her a curious look, silently asking her to continue her explanation. She turned her eyes back to the still, dark waters of the Black Lake. "This war will either come to a halt or maybe even end soon. It'll give us a reprieve to recover ourselves," she said quietly.
Albus nodded in contemplation. "That is good news," he mumbled. "I do not see how there could be bad news though."
"The bad is more for me than for you and the others," she replied. "When the war halts I will be forced to enter my kind's death sleep until someone or something awakens me," she explained. "I will not be able to watch my granddaughter grow into the beautiful young woman I know she will be. My daughter is spared this curse so at least she will have both her parents."
Quiet once more.
"Your concerns are understandable," Dumbledore finally said.
She smiled to herself before turning around, her black robes swirling around her like smoke. "I have nothing to worry about as of yet. I will have at least two more years with my family before I am forced to retreat back to the deserts for a time," her smile held but the old, wizened man could see the sadness peaking through her glorious dual-colored eyes.
"When will I know to wake you?" he asked.
The smile disappeared from her smooth face and seriousness spread through her form. "I cannot say," she said, the wind whipping at her hair. "You will only know to do so when the Fates deem it time."
Dumbledore nodded in understanding before giving her an informal bow from the waist. "Then go, Mi'lady, and enjoy your counted moments with your family." He rose to watch her.
She smiled and nodded before turning to leave the castle but was stopped by Dumbledore.
"You never told us your name, Mi'lady," he stated.
When she had come to the Order, proposing her skills to the men and women gathered around an old scratched up table, she had left a lot of information unanswered and no one knew her name, where she came from, or how old she was; the only thing that they did know was that since she had joined the order fifteen years ago she had not aged a day and remained looking like a one of the students just out of Hogwarts. Even though no one knew anything else about her they knew they could trust her. There was a feeling, a sensation that they could trust her, as though she had an aura around her that erupted with loyalty to their cause. But now that she had informed him that she would be gone for awhile, Dumbledore's curiosity reaffirmed itself to know about her.
She looked over her shoulder at the wizard with a small smirk spreading from the corner of her mouth. "That's a good question, Albus. But I can't answer it. I forgot my real name a long time ago," she said. "In the mean time, you can call me Faux."
With that parting statement she disappeared in a swirl of smoke.
Two years later, as the woman known as Faux had predicted, the Dark Lord, Voldemort, fell as he used the killing curse on the young Harry Potter, the only child of Lily and James Potter. The only remainder of him was his legacy, his scattered followers, and a scar left on the brow of a year old child. The Potter boy became one of the most famous wizards ever on that fateful night as he was taken from the destroyed home and brought to the doorstep of his only living relative, Petunia Dursley, Lily's older sister.
Faux knew immediately that Voldemort was gone for the moment and wished her daughter, son-in-law, and granddaughter goodbye before departing to the deserts of Iraq. Her daughter had been prepared for the moment for her mother's departure but still felt saddened that her own daughter would not grow up knowing the truth as Faux had instructed. The child would grow up knowing nothing of her own heritage and would be fed a lie until a time came where it was necessary for her to be told the truth.
Faux stood beside the crib where the sweet two year old was nestled in a sleep filled with the happiest of dreams. Faux had watched the child and helped raised her since she was born and would miss her dearly. Even though she would be considered dead while in her death sleep and time would seem to fly as if it wasn't even there, she would miss the girl greatly.
Knowing it was time to go and feeling the inevitable approach of her kind's curse, Faux leaned over the railing of the crib, pressed a kiss to the babe's smooth brow and whispering a protection spell in her native language. "Stay safe, my youngling," she whispered in English. "We'll meet again one day."
With reluctance, she turned and left the room quietly. A pang throbbed strongly in her chest where her heart was as she pushed back the tears and went into the living her where her daughter and her husband waited for her.
They were seated on the couch, and he gripped her hand with a tightness meant for comfort and rubbed her back in soothing circles as she wept silently into his shoulder. Faux could smell the salt of her tears from her position in the entry way into the living room. She disliked seeing her daughter in such a state and couldn't help being angry at herself for causing her heartache.
She approached the couple and sat on the other side of her daughter and petted her head as she used to do when she was a youngling. "Don't cry, Michelle," she whispered in a motherly tone. "I'll come back in a few years. You know this."
The young woman's cries finally became audible as she turned swiftly and buried her tear stained face in her mother's bosom. "I can't help it, Mother," she cried as her pale hands gripped the sleeves of her gown tightly. "Every time it gets harder because I never know when you'll wake up!"
Faux smoothed her hand over Michelle's unruly auburn tresses and whispered soothingly to her daughter. "All will be alright, my youngling. All will be alright. I'll come back," she whispered the words over and over again as though saying them would reaffirm them in her daughter's mind and her own as well. She glanced at the man who she had come to love as a son and whispered more words of comfort to her daughter as she lovingly kissed her head. "Ian will be here. He'll help you through this," she hummed into her daughter's ear.
She rocked her daughter gently to ease her, much as she had done when Michelle was younger, until the young woman had exhausted herself and fallen asleep in her mother's arms. Gently, Faux set her down onto the couch and summoned a blanket to cover the woman up. Ian watched her with anxious eyes as she brushed a few stray hairs from Michelle's cheek and pressed a kiss to her temple. Again, as she departed she whispered a spell of protection in her language before standing straight and turning to her son-in-law.
"Take care of them, Ian. I know I don't really have to ask you but I will anyways," Faux spoke quietly so as not to wake Michelle. She pulled the man into a hug. He was much taller than her and her head tucked under his chin. "Take care of my girls for me," she whispered before repeating the process she had done twice before. She pulled him down and kissed him on the cheek and as she departed whispered her prayer.
Ian nodded and repressed his own tears as he watched the mother of the woman he loved most walk out of his front door and disappear.
"Sleep well, Ningali…"