"Kieran," a soft voice said with the affectionate tone only a mother uses. Kieran stirred from his light nap and glanced at his mother. Still young, the physical beauty of Janine had withered away over the last few years as she fought against the disease that was slowly taking her life.
"Yes mom?" Kieran asked. "Do you need something?" He said as he stood up, shaking the sleep from his sore body. Hospital chairs did not make for great beds, and Kieran had been staying with his mom as much as possible.
Janine turned to her husband Darren who was sitting in the chair closest to her bedside and after a moment of the pair locking eyes he got up and stretched in a similar fashion Kieran had a moment before.
"How about some coffee, eh KJ?" Darren didn't wait for a response and promptly left the room, closing the door gently on his way out.
"Come here," Janine said to her son, gesturing to the now vacant chair. Kieran sat down and took up his mothers hand, he could feel something, something important, something hesitant, that needed to be said. Kieran found his mothers eyes and the determination and sadness within them were clear to him.
"You do know I am so very proud you of, don't you?" Janine started. Kieran merely shrugged, still bracing himself for whatever was about to come. "I have things I must tell you, Kieran," she said. "Things that won't be easy for you to hear, things that will hur-t you," she said, struggling to hold back tears now.
"I'm strong, mom," Kieran said. "I know I'm still small, but I'm strong." Janine laughed and then coughed.
"I know you are. So very strong," she said, lifting a hand to her own face, attempting to clear it. Kieran flicked his hand open in the direction of a box of tissues and several separate sheets drifted to him obediently.
"You're not supposed to," she said, her voice muffled through the tissue as she wiped her nose and eyes. Kieran didn't respond to the reprimand (or, at least, what was once supposed to be a reprimand), urging his mother to continue.
"Your father," Janine started after taking several deep breaths. "Your father was not a good man," she said, then paused. "No, your father is not a good man." Kieran's eyebrows furrowed as he subconsciously glanced at the door his father Darren had recently walked out of. Expecting Kieran's confusion, Janine continued.
"I mean to say, your biological father." Janine paused again, watching her soon to be 11 year old son begin to comprehend what she was trying to tell him. She had been dreading this moment more than her own death, but she was out of time. The overwhelming latent abilities of her son, his aptitude, and many other outsanding and noticeable gifts would bring attention to him. Much more attention than would be safe for him.
"Dad isn't Dad?" Kieran said softly, clearly not wanting to believe it. Janine sat up and gathered her remaining strength.
"Darren will always be your father," she said. "He will always love you, and,"
"But he isn't my dad," Kieran said, cutting her off. He glanced at his dying mother and immediately regretted his tone. Pity, grief, and death loomed, and he knew it. He vowed silently to himself he would not let emotion rule this moment. He would make whatever this was as easy for his mother as possible. They didn't say anything for a moment and Janine put her hand down on the hospital bed next to where she was sitting. Kieran got up from the chair and sat down, and she immediately put an arm around him, pulling him into her tightly.
"You do know I am very proud of you," Janine said quietly.
"So you said," said Kieran, but with a subtle smile.
"I remember," said Janine, with a short chuckle, "I had so many worries when you were younger. Back then I thought they were worries unique to my situation, but looking back now I was naive. They were the same thoughts and worries any mother can have about her child."
Kieran had his arm around his mom's lower back. Now out from under her covers, her weak and fragile body was growing cold and clammy. Instead of focusing on that he pushed back tears he felt attempting to surface and spoke. "I remember you watching me very closely, all the time. Whatever I was doing, you were there. Giving me hugs and smiles you surrounded me with warmth and love. I was never afraid." He glanced up at his mother, as he hadn't been while he was speaking. "I'm afraid now, though."
Janine gave another short chuckle, which sort of surprised Kieran.
"I was watching closely, wasn't I," she said, a smile on her face. "Like a hawk, I believe is the phrase. And do you know what I saw?" she asked. Kieran semi-shrugged, a yes and no sort of gesture. "I saw a boy with an insatiable curiosity, a boy with a powerful desire to protect and help his friends and family. I saw a boy mending skinned knees and a broken bird wing. I saw a level of magical control I didn't think even remotely feasible in one so young."
Janine stopped for a moment to collect herself. Her son sitting next to her was barely shorter than her, and would be taller than her very soon. Tears swelled, but she pushed on, knowing she had not said everything she needed to yet.
"I saw you poking and prodding your father with bits of magic, wondering why he didn't respond or poke back. I saw you grow to understand Darren was a No-Maj," she said, her voice faltering only slightly. "I saw you grow to accept the fact that your father had no magic. I wondered at the time what that might mean to you, but you simply came to me with some of your questions. I watched as you learned to love, and to treat people with respect and dignity. I saw you grow into the wonderful young man sitting next to me today. You are gentle and kind, honest and true and I love you with all of my heart." Kieran had a knot in his throat hurting so badly he thought it might burn a hole just to escape. Janine put her other arm around him and pulled him into another hug.
Kieran felt his mom shudder and then violently burst into tears as she held him tightly.
"And I am so, so sorry," Janine said between intermittent sobs. "I'm so desperately sorry and sad that I won't be here to see you grow into a man. That I won't be here to help you and aid you in any way I can. I'm so sorry that I have to tell you these things, and more, so that you might have a chance of being safe and happy. Even though you are so young, I must tell you."
"Tell me what, mom?" Kieran asked. He felt his mom shudder a bit, as she embraced him more tightly. Suddenly she pulled away and with determination said, "your biological father is known to the wizarding world as Voldemort."
Kieran looked down and scanned through some of his own memories. The name Voldemort made him think of sad tidings from a distant shore and a distant time, nothing that could be so relevant to his own story. "I thought he was gone," he said after a moment.
"Gone," said Janine. "But not dead. He lives, if only just, I know it. Just like I know he will be back one day. Soon, or in years, he will be back." Kieran didn't know how his mom knew, nor did he question it. Knowing her to be the most powerful witch he'd ever seen thus far, he did not doubt for even a moment her words to be true.
"The sins of the father do not fall onto the son," Janine said. She then hugged her precious boy again. "I need you to understand something, and it's really important to me that you do. So listen closely." She pulled back and looked into Kieran's eyes intently. "You are absolutely nothing like your father. He allowed poison to corrupt his heart. He is nothing anymore but a pitiful and fractured creature that will never know love or a moments happiness. You are not your biological father, do you understand me?"
Kieran wasn't sure if he understood, but he believed her because he wanted to, and gave her a small reassuring nod.
"I tell you this because I feel I must," said Janine. "When I say you are nothing like your father, I mean your personality, your nature. You have not allowed life to beat your heart into submission, to allow lust and greed to fill your thoughts and desires. You are, however, gifted to a degree that even a witch as familiar with magic as myself can only wonder at. You must tread cautiously Kieran. For their will be many, if they discover your heritage, or abilities, who will wish to control or destroy you. In ignorance and fear they may seek you out to harm you, for they will only see you as the son of the Dark Lord."
"But, why - er, how," Kieran stammered, looking for the words, before Janine continued.
"After he vanished, I was able to escape," she said. "I came back here, to America and had you, a healthy, happy baby, nine months later." Kieran took this in, and concentrated through the veil of fuzziness he often felt when he was younger when he couldn't fully wrap his mind around something. Escaped was the word he wouldn't forget. Escaped was the word that made some sense as to how his wonderful and caring mother could be the co-creator of himself with someone terrible. Tears flowed, and a soft, sorrowful cry broke free from Kieran's throat. Janine grabbed him instantly.
They sat together, sharing their pain and grief for a time, until Kieran was able to rein in his emotions. He had more questions and needed more time, but his mother spoke first.
"I ask that you conceal some of your ability, at least now when you are younger, so you don't bring unwanted attention to yourself. Attention to who you are, and where you come from. I worry if you are too well known, their will be gossip, and curiosity surrounding you. If Voldemort were to learn of your existence, do not expect him to be kind, or fatherly. He would most likely see you as a threat to be taken care of before you can rival him. I can only imagine he has ways of finding out what he wants to know, but I ask that you not make it any easier than is absolutely necessary. Remember I said conceal, not subdue your growing talents. I want you to become an extraordinary wizard, Kieran. A man capable of carving out from this world the exact size and shape slice of life you are looking for. I want you to protect and to love your friends and family. I want you to fight for what is right, for what you believe in. Promise me."
Kieran felt a variety of emotions, one of the more prominent being shame. Shame at his own disappointment in his father Darren for not having the same abilities as he. Shame for having been proud of the things he could do. Shame for his bliss and ignorance.
"I promise," Kieran said a moment later.
"What do you promise," his mom requested. Kieran took a deep breath while his arms were still wrapped tightly around his frail mothers back and focused on what he wanted to say.
"I promise to live and to love as you have taught me, as you have shown me. I promise to fight for what I believe in, and to never forget you. I promise to not bring unnecessary attention to myself. I promise I will be strong, stronger than them all." Kieran felt tension leave his mothers body as she less hugged him and more collapsed around him. As he held her up, he knew now that he had been saying goodbye, and that his mother had as well.
Janine's breathing slowed, and her eyes began to open and close as if sleepily. Kieran could feel reality and panic seeping into his entire being. He could feel her letting go, after having done the one last thing that she knew she must. Kieran could feel her spirit preparing to leave her body.
Like a spiral of energy, Kieran shifted a small piece at the top of the tornado that began to overcome him from within. All around him the air started to crackle and pop, the floor trembled and the shingles on the hospital roof above danced in their frames. He didn't know what exactly was happening, but knew it was his only chance to save his mother before it was too late. Voices echoed in the halls as people ran around and screamed as the energy spiraling out of control bounced off the walls and into other compartments deep within the hospital.'
Janine came to and was for a moment both terrified and astounded at the scene before her. The beauty and density of her sons soul and magical force was the most incredible sight of her life. Engulfed by a bright pulsing aura, the circling waves of energy calmed and protected them. As if for a moment time itself had stopped and the only thing that mattered was in the center of the storm of magic and energy. The air was stiff and swift and smelled faintly of something sweet and powerful. She realized she was standing, with no effort to do so on her part, her son was holding her weight with ease.
"What are you doing?" She said as loudly as she could.
"I can save you," Kieran said, his tone and face saturated with determination. He was not ready to say goodbye, he was not willing to let go, not if he could do something.
Janine collapsed her head onto her sons shoulder and the noise from the waterfall all around them suddenly quieted.
"I am so proud of you," she whispered into his ear. "Please always remember how much I love you and how proud of you I am. But you must let go now, it is my time."
"I won't!" Kieran yelled. He knew somehow that he could save her. Instinctively, he knew he could. He did not stop to consider at what price.
"You will," Janine said. She pulled back and brought her sons face into her hands. Her love for him was so obvious it made Kieran even more determined.
But suddenly the power surging through him seemed to disperse and then begin to return. His eyes, still locked with his mothers began to darken and close. He wasn't sure if she had said it, or if he'd heard her say it somewhere inside, but the word "sleep" reverberated through his entire body. Regardless of his will or wishes, his body was now slowly sinking to the bed, guided by Janine. He knew, in the last instants before he lost consciousness, that he would never see his beloved mother again.
A/N: Thanks for reading the first chapter of my first fan fiction :) I recently read HP and the cursed child and thought as a play it would be enjoyable and interesting enough, but compared with original JKR novels it really failed to draw my adoration as they did. So, missing HP, I wrote this and have a billion other ideas as to where I want this story to go and play out. I'd like to explore Ilvermorny, the American Hogwarts equivalent, and also tie into the original HP story lines some. Currently Kieran in this story is two years younger than Harry and Co, but I was thinking about a room of requirement equivalent in Ilvermorny that could go deeper, to a second room that connects to other rooms of requirement all around the world. A second floor, more powerful and advanced that is capable of speeding up time, among other things like travelling to other rooms of requirement. This would allow me to close the age gap and also introduce Kieran to all sorts of different magical communities and mentors for his training. I hoped this first chapter could foreshadow the son of Voldemort's quest to become the most powerful wizard of all time. The most powerful wizard of all time that has a very personal vendetta against his father, the Dark Lord. The title, Sewn from Shadow is a small play on words: Reap what you sow. I'm also a fan of peter pan, who had his shadow sewn back to his feet in the 1953 Disney animated classic by the same name. Shadow also refers to Kieran and his efforts to remain anonymous, private, stealthy and efficient. Requests for more from this story line will motivate me to continue. I'm sure I could spin these out at a rather prolific rate if I felt so inclined. Any critique/comments/whatever are very welcome! thank you.
