Sacrifices

The air was thick with tension as dark clouds gathered overhead, casting an ominous shadow over the wizarding world. The sound of footsteps echoed through the dense forest, accompanied by sinister whispers that seemed to emanate from the very trees themselves.

A woman, her heart pounding with fear, clutched her newborn child tightly to her chest as she hurried through the underbrush. Her eyes darted anxiously from side to side, searching for any sign of danger.

"Come on, Aurora," she whispered urgently to herself, willing her legs to move faster. "You have to keep going. You have to keep him safe." But just as she thought she might escape, a chilling voice cut through the night air, freezing her in her tracks.

"Well, well, well. What do we have here?"

Aurora's blood ran cold as she turned to face the source of the voice, her wand shaking in her hand. Standing before her were three hooded figures, their faces obscured by the darkness of their robes.

"Please," Aurora begged, her voice trembling with fear. "Please, let us go. We haven't done anything to you."

One of the figures stepped forward, a cruel smile playing on his lips as he raised his wand menacingly. "Ah, but you see, my dear, it's not about what you've done. It's about who you are."

Before Aurora could react, spells erupted from the tips of the Death Eaters' wands, filling the air with bursts of blinding light. With a cry of desperation, Aurora raised her wand to defend herself, but she knew deep down that she stood no chance against their dark magic.

But just as she braced herself for the inevitable, a bright light shot out from behind her, cutting through the air like a beacon of hope.

"Expelliarmus!"

"Agh!" The Death Eater, who was about to cast a spell on the mother and her child, was sent flying backwards. Aurora quickly turned around to see her husband, Hezick, emerging from the shadows, his wand raised defiantly in his hand. His face was set with determination, and his eyes were blazing with fierce resolve.

"Hezick, no!" Aurora cried, her heart breaking at the sight of him risking his life for her and their child. But Hezick paid her no heed as he squared off against the Death Eaters, his every movement calculated and precise.

"Get out of here, Aurora," he shouted over the din of battle. "Take our child and run. I'll hold them off."

Tears welled up in Aurora's eyes as she realized what Hezick was asking her to do. She knew that if she stayed, she would only be putting herself and their child in even greater danger. But the thought of leaving Hezick behind, of abandoning him to face the Death Eaters alone, was almost too much to bear.

"Hezick, I can't," she began, but he cut her off with a fierce shake of his head.

"You have to," he insisted, his voice barely above a whisper. "You have to keep our son safe. That's all that matters now." With a heavy heart, Aurora nodded, her resolve hardening as she clutched their son tightly to her chest.

"I love you, Hezick," she whispered, her voice choked with emotion.

"I love you too, Aurora," Hezick replied, his gaze never wavering from the Death Eaters before him. "Now go. Go and don't look back."

With one final glance over her shoulder, Aurora turned and fled into the night, the sound of spells and screams fading into the distance behind her. She didn't dare to look back; she didn't dare see the fate that awaited her beloved as he stood alone against the darkness.

But even as she ran, her heart ached with the knowledge that Hezick had made the ultimate sacrifice for her and their child. And she vowed, with every fiber of her being, that she would honor his memory by doing whatever it took to keep their family safe, no matter the cost. 

....

Months had passed since that fateful night in the forest. I had done everything in my power to keep my son safe from the dangers that plagued the wizarding world. But as time passed, I realized that I could no longer protect him on my own.

With a heavy heart and tears streaming down my cheeks, I made the difficult decision to leave him on the doorsteps of an orphanage. I knew it was the only way to ensure his safety, even if it meant breaking my own heart in the process.

As I placed him gently in the crib outside the orphanage, I whispered a tearful goodbye, knowing deep down that this would be the last time I would ever see him. I promised to never forget him and to always love him from afar, praying that he would find happiness and love wherever life took him.

....

As my eyes fluttered open, I found myself in a world of confusion. The surroundings were unfamiliar, and a sense of disorientation washed over me. Slowly, the fog lifted, and I realized that I was lying in a small bundle of blankets.

That's when I noticed her—my mother, standing near the door, her figure outlined by the soft glow of the streetlights behind her. Tears glistened in her beautiful, ocean-colored eyes, and her expression was one of profound sorrow.

"I'm sorry, my son," she said, her voice choked with emotion. Son? So she's my mom. At least I know I'll be good-looking when I'm older. But why is she sorry?

"I love you, Cassius," she continued, her voice trembling. "I hope you'll be in good hands here. Goodbye, my son." Wait, what? Wait, don't go! Panic surged through me, but my body refused to respond. "Wah aba uh!" I tried to cry out, but all that came out was a garbled mess. Stupid baby body.

I watched helplessly as she leaned down to press a tender kiss to my forehead, her touch filled with a mixture of love and sadness. Then, with a flick of her wand, she muttered a spell under her breath.

"Evanesco."

As she whispered the word, she began to fade from view, her form slowly dissipating like mist in the wind. I reached out desperately, but my limbs felt heavy and unresponsive. I could only watch as she disappeared before my eyes, leaving behind nothing but the echo of her words and the lingering scent of her perfume.

But before she was completely gone, she waved her wand over me once more, murmuring another word.

"Laxo."

A sudden wave of relaxation washed over me, and my eyelids grew heavy with exhaustion. Try as I might, I couldn't fight off the overwhelming urge to sleep. 

....

Minutes passed, and the night grew colder as the rain continued to pour down relentlessly. Inside the orphanage, Sister Agnes sat by the fireplace, knitting a scarf for one of the children in her care. The sound of rain against the windows filled the room, creating a sense of tranquility in the otherwise quiet building.

Suddenly, there came a sharp knock at the door—a sound that seemed out of place on such a stormy night. Frowning in confusion, Sister Agnes set aside her knitting and made her way to the entrance.

Opening the door, she was surprised to find no one there—just the empty street shrouded in darkness, only aluminated by the streetlights spaced out down the street. But as she cast her gaze downward, she saw something that made her heart skip a beat—a baby, nestled in a crib on the doorstep, fast asleep despite the pouring rain.

Hurrying forward, Sister Agnes scooped up the sleeping child, cradling him gently in her arms. As she did, a small card fluttered to the ground, carried by the wind. Bending down, she picked it up, her eyes widening in surprise as she read the words written on it.

"Cassius Smith, August 21st, 1980."

A sense of urgency gripped her heart as she realized the significance of the date—the child's birthday. But there was no time to ponder the implications now. With a determined expression, Sister Agnes hurried back inside, her mind already racing with thoughts of how to care for the unexpected arrival.