She braved darkness and death to give her son a gift. A gift that only one capable of great love can give.
FINALIST in the 2005 Winter-Snow Holidays Challenge # 5 - The Secret Gift Challenge
Categories: Dark/Angsty Fics Characters: None
Warnings: Character Death
Challenges:
Series: None
Chapters: 1 Completed: Yes
Word count: 1293 Read: 1718
Published: 12/16/05 Updated: 12/16/05
1. Winter Snows Challenge #5 by the nutty imp
A Mother’s Gift
It was a time for joy, a time for families to get together. It was the coldest time of the year, warmth permeated everywhere - except for one place.
On this dark island, even the white blanket of snow failed to cover the darkness that lay within. Warmth and joy could not pass through these walls; the creatures that guarded this place would not allow this.
Within the shadowy corridors of Azkaban, three figures walked. The young man in the lead was an Auror, tasked to escort the couple behind him. They were to visit one of the prisoners. He hoped that this would be a quick visit “ he couldn’t stand the place. He wondered again if the overtime pay and a possible promotion was worth this. Had the young Auror paid more attention, he might have noticed the shifty gazes that the couple exchanged; maybe then, he would have realized that their purpose went far deeper than a simple visit.
Officially, they were there to visit a son, their only son. A promising young man seduced by the promise of power, a young man who was later denounced by his father, and finally driven into madness by this place. Although this was the season for families to come together, the goal of their visit was not re-unification, but a gift. One final gift.
Even with those creatures a safe distance away, she could feel their presence. They drank upon her feeling of hope and love for her son. Yet she was determined. The shadows made her husband’s face appear grimmer; he again tried to talk her out of this.
“He is lost to us. Your sacrifice would only be futile. Don’t do this,” his soft voice pleaded as he had for days on end. Yet her resolve had never wavered then, it would not waver now.
They had reached their destination, the bars slid open. Her husband signaled their Auror escort to leave them. To allow the remnants of this shattered family a moment of privacy; to at least be together on what should have been a happy season. Yet, the gloom of this prison would not allow a festive atmosphere; the Dementors ensured this.
“Barty? It’s me,” she whispered, while her gentle hands cupped his pale, haggard, and unshavened face, “Everything will be alright; I will make it all right, as I always have.”
His reaction was not what she had expected. “He will return. He will come back to crush all his enemies.” He eyed the man who stood by the corner contemptuously. “He will destroy you and I will have my revenge.”
Tears brimmed upon her eyes, for the madness had already taken her son. “Barty, that’s no way to speak to your father.” She turned his face towards herself. “Look at me. I’m your mother; I will give you a chance to get out of this place; to start anew.”
He eyed her silently, his eyes cold and dead.
The man by the corner finally spoke. “Now do you see? He is lost. He is not the boy we raised. Nothing can bring back our son to us, you must accept this.”
“Bartemius,” her voice strong despite her frail countenance, “I know what I’m doing.”
She brought out two flasks of a thick brownish substance. She plucked two strands of her hair and dropped them into one of the flasks. The content glowed white and turned bright red in colour.
She smiled as Barty understood her intention. He plucked his own hair and dropped them into the second flask; the liquid turn black and murky.
She was suddenly pulled upright and found herself facing her husband. For the first time she saw the fear in his eyes.
“Don’t,” he pleaded. “If not for yourself, then for me. You deserve better than this. I can’t live with myself if I allow you to do this!”
“Bartemius.” Her voice was soft. “I would have died anyway. Allow me the joy of knowing that I died so my son … our son could live. It is my last wish.”
He sadly let her go.
“Would you watch over our son when I’m gone?” she asked.
He hesitated and then answered solemnly, “I’ll make sure he stays out of trouble.”
She watched as her husband and the one who now bore her image, walked out of this place. The happiness she felt for this was, however, drained away. The Dementors feed upon happiness and love. Unfortunately, her love was the only thing that had kept her going. She felt her life fade. Odd, she felt no happiness, despite the firm knowledge she had saved her only son’s life.
The snow fell softly outside “ pure yet cold. This was how she felt. Cold and empty. She remembered the reason as to why she was here; She loved her son so much that she was willing to die for him. This knowledge the creatures could not take from her. She no longer felt the joy that this single thought once brought; only acceptance of the fate which she had carved for herself.
“Merry Christmas, Barty…” she tried to bring up good memories of their family, the happier times, but none came “ the Dementors would only allow despair and the cold winter winds to seep through this dank cell.
EPILOGUE
Today he grieved, tomorrow he would return to work, the only place left where he had a sense of purpose. It's hardly much of a purpose, but at least it’s still something.
He stood silently over a grave. Buried beneath was his light. To the world, he was a man who finally grieved for his lost son, yet he knew that he had lost far more. He had lost his son long before he lost her.
His home was choked with darkness due to his presence. He could not stand the place. He immensed himself into his work, to stay away from his house, to stay away from his son. Bartemius Crouch Sr. even preferred this place - despite the Dementors nearby. Here, was the light that kept him going “ he remembered a promise he made a year ago. Yes, he continued to watch over Barty. He certainly made sure that though alive, the boy would never cause trouble.
His wife would never approve of the method he had employed, but it was necessary. She never truly did understood her son, nor did she ever see the boy for what he truly was, a monster. She was a mother who loved her son whole-heartedly, a love that blinded her to all his faults.
A gift she called this, a mother’s final gift to her son. For him, this was a burden … a curse that she had set upon him. However, this woman loved him in the very same manner as she had loved her son. She foolishly believed that they could right the wrongs done, that a chance for life would change her son.
He bowed his head and placed the flowers over her unmarked grave. The snow swirled ceaselessly about him, yet he was used to the cold; it had enveloped his heart. A heart that will never know warmth again.