Disclaimer: All characters (minus two original), settings, etc. are
credited to their creator, J.K. Rowling. No credit will be taken, but
placed where it is due, to Ms. Rowling herself. In addition, while I have
read some fan fiction, I have not read all of it. If there are
similarities between my own story and anyone else's, it was not
intentional.
Chapter One
Narnia Fairling had a unique childhood, compared to most. She spent most of her life with her grandmother, Alberta Crites. In truth, her grandmother had raised her. Her mother had died in an auto accident when she was very young and her father, unable to cope with the loss, left town, leaving her grandmother to care for her. Narnia often wondered what it would have been like had life's circumstances been different, but she was thankful and appreciative for the home her grandmother had provided for her.
Narnia had no recollection of her mother. Only a memory of the softness of her long auburn hair played its way into Narnia's mind when she'd look at photographs of her mom. She would run a finger over the picture, only to feel the smooth cold surface under her skin. Sometimes, a sweet scent on the air would direct Narnia's thoughts towards her and she would stop for a moment to breathe it in. She remembered little of her father as well, and the last time they had spoke had been many years before. She had felt the need to talk with him, had wanted to see him, and therefore, she searched him out. Their meeting had been awkward, which Narnia had expected, but his coldness towards her hurt her deeply. She had happened upon him in a café and he recognized her immediately. For a moment, however, Narnia was unsure it was her father. Pictures she had seen showed a tall, handsome man, always smiling, but the person before her was hunched over and carried a most unpleasant look on his face. He looked as though he hadn't shaven in awhile and everything in his appearance was unkempt. If he hadn't shown any sign of acknowledgment, she may have turned and walked out. Trying to ignore the revelation, he seated himself in a corner booth, with his back facing her. Determined not to give up, she sat down opposite him. Her presence seemed to disturb him and throughout the visit, he rarely looked up at her. On the way home that day, she replayed his words to her over and over. "Why are you here? You are no daughter of mine.. Your mother was one of their kind. She was a freak, just like that mother of hers.. You're probably the same. Don't come around here again." She had just sat there and watched him walk away, tears stinging her eyes.
When Narnia arrived home that evening, she buried herself in the solitude of her room. Her grandmother seemed to understand and left the subject alone until that time when Narnia felt the need to talk about it. Eventually they did speak about it, but briefly and it was never mentioned again.
Narnia had always found her hometown charming and it's people warm and friendly. They weren't a large community and there were drawbacks to that. Narnia and her grandmother tried to keep as much of their lives private as they could, but people will talk and find things to talk about when there is nothing else to be done; unfortunately, Narnia and her grandmother were a favorite topic at these moments. As it would happen to be in any small town, she was fairly well known, partially due to her mother's death, but mostly due to her Gran. The town folk thought well of Narnia, some out of sympathy, but most sincerely liked her. She was smart, pretty in a plain sort of way, and was always willing to help someone in need.
The locals always said there was something else about her as well, but what that was, no one really could say. They didn't attribute it to her grandmother's odd manner and outlandish appearance, as she'd stroll into town wearing, what looked to be, her best maroon bath robe, detailed with gold peacocks and an old black, floppy hat with feathers sticking out in every direction. "Old Lady Crites," they'd say and shake their heads, all the while, making sure they stuck to their side of the street. No, it wasn't that, but something else.
Little did they know that Narnia and her grandmother were not as different as one might think.
"Hogwarts? Teach?" Narnia found herself saying aloud.
"I'm sure he has his reasons, dear. Your uncle does nothing without much thought and consideration, " her grandmother offered. "Albus expects only the best from his staff and his asking you to teach only points to that very fact." Her grandmother looked up from her knitting and continued. " With Voldemort's return no longer in question, he may be wanting any help you can give."
Somehow, those words didn't bring much comfort. They only added to the knot that seemed to be growing in her stomach.
Narnia had been spending a quiet evening in the company of her grandmother when the owl had arrived with the letter from her uncle. It had been some time since their last correspondence with him and he did make his apologies. Albus Dumbledore was her grandmother's brother and even though she had never met him, she had heard so many wonderful things about him. She knew he was a great wizard, one of the greatest to have lived, and was well respected throughout the magical community. The fact that he would even ask her to come and work alongside him gave her a great feeling of pride.
"That would explain 'certain risks may be involved'," Narnia replied, with a slight smirk. She scanned the letter once again, the weight of it laying on her mind. "I will definitely need to give some thought to all of this."
The entire wizarding community knew that if Lord Voldemort had ever returned to power, it could prove even more catastrophic than before and agreeing to teach at Hogwarts would put her so close to it all, a place she wasn't sure she wanted to be. However, her uncle had asked her. Her. In times like these, he wouldn't have haphazardly chosen anyone.
Yes, Dark Arts Defense was her strong point. She never had many great challenges in this area of magic, but her knowledge of it was vast. When circumstances required her skill in defending herself or others from dark magic, it had seemed almost second nature to her. She didn't do too badly in the other disciplines of magic either. She had shown great potential at an early age and, at times, her Gran found it hard to keep her challenged. She had never gone to a school of magical learning, as there were none in her part of the world. Her Gran had been her teacher and a good one, Narnia thought. She had always been confident in her abilities, but being a part of something so important as defeating one of the most powerful wizards of their time.. she wasn't sure.
She folded the letter and returned it to its envelope. "Gran, I'm turning in for the evening." She rose from her place on the couch, gave her grandmother a goodnight kiss on the forehead and turned to leave the room.
"Albus would not have asked if he didn't place full confidence in your abilities. You know that. He will understand your decision and support it, no matter what you choose. Good-night dear."
Her grandmother's words came as a small encouragement and as she pulled the blankets up to her chest, she hoped that in the midst of all that had just happened, she would be able to sleep, somehow.
Chapter One
Narnia Fairling had a unique childhood, compared to most. She spent most of her life with her grandmother, Alberta Crites. In truth, her grandmother had raised her. Her mother had died in an auto accident when she was very young and her father, unable to cope with the loss, left town, leaving her grandmother to care for her. Narnia often wondered what it would have been like had life's circumstances been different, but she was thankful and appreciative for the home her grandmother had provided for her.
Narnia had no recollection of her mother. Only a memory of the softness of her long auburn hair played its way into Narnia's mind when she'd look at photographs of her mom. She would run a finger over the picture, only to feel the smooth cold surface under her skin. Sometimes, a sweet scent on the air would direct Narnia's thoughts towards her and she would stop for a moment to breathe it in. She remembered little of her father as well, and the last time they had spoke had been many years before. She had felt the need to talk with him, had wanted to see him, and therefore, she searched him out. Their meeting had been awkward, which Narnia had expected, but his coldness towards her hurt her deeply. She had happened upon him in a café and he recognized her immediately. For a moment, however, Narnia was unsure it was her father. Pictures she had seen showed a tall, handsome man, always smiling, but the person before her was hunched over and carried a most unpleasant look on his face. He looked as though he hadn't shaven in awhile and everything in his appearance was unkempt. If he hadn't shown any sign of acknowledgment, she may have turned and walked out. Trying to ignore the revelation, he seated himself in a corner booth, with his back facing her. Determined not to give up, she sat down opposite him. Her presence seemed to disturb him and throughout the visit, he rarely looked up at her. On the way home that day, she replayed his words to her over and over. "Why are you here? You are no daughter of mine.. Your mother was one of their kind. She was a freak, just like that mother of hers.. You're probably the same. Don't come around here again." She had just sat there and watched him walk away, tears stinging her eyes.
When Narnia arrived home that evening, she buried herself in the solitude of her room. Her grandmother seemed to understand and left the subject alone until that time when Narnia felt the need to talk about it. Eventually they did speak about it, but briefly and it was never mentioned again.
Narnia had always found her hometown charming and it's people warm and friendly. They weren't a large community and there were drawbacks to that. Narnia and her grandmother tried to keep as much of their lives private as they could, but people will talk and find things to talk about when there is nothing else to be done; unfortunately, Narnia and her grandmother were a favorite topic at these moments. As it would happen to be in any small town, she was fairly well known, partially due to her mother's death, but mostly due to her Gran. The town folk thought well of Narnia, some out of sympathy, but most sincerely liked her. She was smart, pretty in a plain sort of way, and was always willing to help someone in need.
The locals always said there was something else about her as well, but what that was, no one really could say. They didn't attribute it to her grandmother's odd manner and outlandish appearance, as she'd stroll into town wearing, what looked to be, her best maroon bath robe, detailed with gold peacocks and an old black, floppy hat with feathers sticking out in every direction. "Old Lady Crites," they'd say and shake their heads, all the while, making sure they stuck to their side of the street. No, it wasn't that, but something else.
Little did they know that Narnia and her grandmother were not as different as one might think.
"Hogwarts? Teach?" Narnia found herself saying aloud.
"I'm sure he has his reasons, dear. Your uncle does nothing without much thought and consideration, " her grandmother offered. "Albus expects only the best from his staff and his asking you to teach only points to that very fact." Her grandmother looked up from her knitting and continued. " With Voldemort's return no longer in question, he may be wanting any help you can give."
Somehow, those words didn't bring much comfort. They only added to the knot that seemed to be growing in her stomach.
Narnia had been spending a quiet evening in the company of her grandmother when the owl had arrived with the letter from her uncle. It had been some time since their last correspondence with him and he did make his apologies. Albus Dumbledore was her grandmother's brother and even though she had never met him, she had heard so many wonderful things about him. She knew he was a great wizard, one of the greatest to have lived, and was well respected throughout the magical community. The fact that he would even ask her to come and work alongside him gave her a great feeling of pride.
"That would explain 'certain risks may be involved'," Narnia replied, with a slight smirk. She scanned the letter once again, the weight of it laying on her mind. "I will definitely need to give some thought to all of this."
The entire wizarding community knew that if Lord Voldemort had ever returned to power, it could prove even more catastrophic than before and agreeing to teach at Hogwarts would put her so close to it all, a place she wasn't sure she wanted to be. However, her uncle had asked her. Her. In times like these, he wouldn't have haphazardly chosen anyone.
Yes, Dark Arts Defense was her strong point. She never had many great challenges in this area of magic, but her knowledge of it was vast. When circumstances required her skill in defending herself or others from dark magic, it had seemed almost second nature to her. She didn't do too badly in the other disciplines of magic either. She had shown great potential at an early age and, at times, her Gran found it hard to keep her challenged. She had never gone to a school of magical learning, as there were none in her part of the world. Her Gran had been her teacher and a good one, Narnia thought. She had always been confident in her abilities, but being a part of something so important as defeating one of the most powerful wizards of their time.. she wasn't sure.
She folded the letter and returned it to its envelope. "Gran, I'm turning in for the evening." She rose from her place on the couch, gave her grandmother a goodnight kiss on the forehead and turned to leave the room.
"Albus would not have asked if he didn't place full confidence in your abilities. You know that. He will understand your decision and support it, no matter what you choose. Good-night dear."
Her grandmother's words came as a small encouragement and as she pulled the blankets up to her chest, she hoped that in the midst of all that had just happened, she would be able to sleep, somehow.