Post by Bola on Nov 10, 2010 16:35:19 GMT -5
To Recall
She recalls, and allows us to follow through the best days of her life. - K+/T
A/N: Hi, everyone. So I have been working on this fan-fiction for quite a while. I'm not sure whether this is considered Fluff, but I thought that it would be fitting well here, so... Please review.
I’m not sure when it all began anymore, and some pieces of my memory have escaped me sadly enough. He’s there to aid me in recalling every now and then, but there are a lot of things about my relationship with Albus Dumbledore that I’ll never forget, too.
I’m not sure when I really fell in mad love with him, but I assume that it must have begun somewhere in between my sixth and seventh year, that I truly realized whatever I was feeling, could be more than just respect, and admiration.
Being the daughter of a well known alchemist, and a rather gifted witch who died way too early, I too got my invitation to enter Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry at the age of eleven. My father’s eyes had showed such pride at eyeing the letter which he had gotten at that age as well. My mother, who died giving birth to their only daughter, would have been proud, too. I didn’t question my father’s sincerity about that matter. I myself was so very happy as well, even though a twinge of fear with all the exciting facets about me going to Hogwarts arrived together with my letter, and settled into my thoughts and the rest of my being. It only began to resolve in my second week there.
I felt at home sooner than I would have guessed. Poppy Pomfrey and Rolanda Hooch, even though the first was a Hufflepuff and the latter a Ravenclaw, soon became the best of my companions due to some lessons we occasionally had together. All three of us were kind of lonely in our Houses. It doesn’t mean that I – nor Poppy, or Rolanda for that matter – haven’t had those in our respective Houses, but it hasn’t been the same. There’s a difference between knowing one another through, and through, and enjoying to sit beside one another during lessons or in the Common Room when working on papers. Our companionship of then most likely leads to how well we still know each other now. We merely need to look at one another to gather the seriousness of the situation or burst into ridiculous fits of giggles no one ever would anticipate of either one of us. That’s never changed. I never would have guessed all three of us would end up teaching at Hogwarts together some day, but it is one of the best things.
I have known Albus since my arrival at Hogwarts. He was the one who helped me up when I fell over my own feet in my nervousness at the occasion of my very first lesson of Transfiguration. I was so embarrassed. Albus had merely smiled, eyes shining beneath his famous half-moon eyeglasses, while helping me to my feet. I didn’t manage to look at him for weeks without blushing.
No, I didn’t fall in love with him then. I didn’t fall in love with him at the age of twelve, or thirteen, or fourteen, or fifteen. At the age of sixteen however, I slowly began feeling a rather uncharacteristic tingling in my fingers when he sometimes put his longer ones on mine to show me how I should move my wand. I never really thought about the how or why, and never shared it with either Poppy or Rolanda at that age, nor did I particularly search for Albus’ aid. It somehow seemed as if he intuitively aided me more often. Maybe I was just imagining things, but until today I’m sure that he at that point began falling in love with me. I never asked. I began becoming a woman in all senses of the word then. I began getting feminine curves and all of that. It wouldn’t be so odd if it had been then.
Never did anything occur between us, though. I attended his lessons. I did his homework, and handed it in on time. I had good grades, and never got any less but an A. The same would go for all courses. I was a happy burgeoning woman and was happy at Hogwarts, and as happy to go home with holidays, too. However that didn’t last as long as I would have liked…
When I was seventeen, I got a rather unanticipated letter at breakfast one Friday morning before Christmas, addressed to me in an unknown handwriting. I’ll never forget that day, and I even still have the letter in my drawer somewhere. It read that my dearly loved father had fallen ill with unknown disease and been taken to St. Mungo’s. That Mr. McGonagall wanted me to know. I had left Great Hall in tears, and hurriedly. Both Poppy and Rolanda had come after me. I had let them read the letter, and accepted their comfort until the bell had announced the very first period of the day, forcing us to part until the break after second period.
I had nodded when they had asked if I would be fine, and taken off to double Transfiguration with the Slytherins. I had been too off-minded to consider using a charm to hide the evidence of having cried, earning me some odd looks. No one had dared ask if anything was amiss, except for Albus Dumbledore. No one else had appeared to care. He had asked me to stay after the bell had announced break time, and had wondered if anything was the matter. I had broken down in big tears once more, handing him the letter I had received that morning – already stained by my tears of earlier – for I thought I no longer would have been able to speak. After having read the letter Albus had suddenly enveloped me in his embrace. I had thought he must have felt sorry for me, but later on I learned that then the love had been mutual.
He had suggested to ask the Headmaster about exceptional permission to leave the castle that evening so that I could see my father. I don’t remember it all anymore. My head had been somewhere else then – halfway with my father ill in St. Mungo’s, halfway with the smell of Albus in my nostrils as he tucked my head under his chin and stroked me to reassurance, and the feel of his warmth against me.
That evening after dinner, like Albus had told me, he and I had walked in silence to where the boundaries of Hogwarts ended. I Apparated by his side to St. Mungo’s. He was there the whole way, even though he had suggested to go and give me some time alone with my father once I had sat by his side. I then told him he didn’t have to, and thus he had remained, for which I was glad. My father had been looking worse than I ever would have expected. His voice had been weak when saying goodbye to me. I only realized it had been a goodbye later on. He had told me he loved me, and was proud of me. That he was sorry for everything. I had told him that there was nothing to be sorry about, told him I loved him as well, and kissed his forehead.
When Albus and I had arrived at the gates of Hogwarts again, he had escorted me to the portrait of the Fat Lady, before making for his rooms. I learned later, after breakfast Saturday morning, when Albus called me to his rooms, that by his return, a letter of St. Mungo’s had laid on his desk saying that my father had died not long after Albus and I had Apparated again.
I had gotten Headmaster Dipper’s exceptional permission again on Wednesday to attend my father’s funeral. Albus had again been the one to escort me back and forth to Hogwarts again. I had held his hand through the whole of the funeral. That’s when the flame must have been enlightened for real, I believe, even though the situation.
I remained at Hogwarts during the holidays after that. Poppy and Rolanda both had been kind enough to do the same so that I wouldn’t feel alone. During the summer holidays, I fared home alone and lived alone in the house I had shared with my father. I put all of my father’s things in boxes, but never felt the strength to throw anything away until years later. I wasted away the first of my two months summer holiday doing just that, and wallowed in melancholy. I needed that. I got through the second at the Pomfreys. Poppy’s eldest sister had gotten married in the beginning of the year, and moved. I could use her room, and did.
The first day of my very last year at Hogwarts arrived soon, though. I still remember how the time had fled all of a sudden. I only realized later that was because Poppy had done everything to keep me busy. Rolanda had visited often enough, too. By the end of August that year, I had gotten to put away the death of my father. That didn’t mean I missed him any less, but putting it away surely was a beginning. It too was the beginning of Albus and mine’s more intimate relationship. He would send me notes during lunch to ask if I was feeling up for a game of chess some nights. It would put my mind off things. And as I slowly learned how to be better at chess, and answered Albus’ occasional questions about my well-being – me sometimes returning them – I slowly but surely got over the death of my father, as I slowly but surely began feeling more for Albus each day. Nothing ever happened between us until later, though.
That’s until I got my degree in Magic. On the day of my graduation, I still remember well, Albus and I…missed. That’s what I first thought it must have been. Headmaster Dippet had announced he was going to retire at my graduation feast, and told us all Albus was going to succeed him. I hadn’t particularly searched for him during the feast, and it hadn’t seemed as if he had for me, but somehow we both had ended up alone by the side of the quite busy dance floor together, taking sips of our Butterbeers. I had wished him congratulations on his exaltation, and he too had wished me congratulations on the end of my education at Hogwarts. He had leant in to give me the traditional three kisses on the cheek, but had missed with the last. He had first kissed my left cheek, and then the right one, before ending up kissing my mouth. I had turned my head right then, and we had ended up in a rather intimate embrace, enjoying the touch a bit longer than necessary or appropriate.
I had pulled back blushing furiously, thinking that due to my reaction he must have missed, and accidentally done something he never wanted. I later learned he had just reached his goal. It was our first kiss, but surely not the last…
We had continued keeping in touch with each other by owl after my graduation. I had gotten a job in Diagon Alley with Flourish and Blotts. Not that I needed the money badly. I had inherited quite a lot of my father. He had lived quietly in his life. I rather took up a job to remain busy, and get some experience in…something, and maybe move up later. By then I didn’t know why I was doing it all really. Albus was the one who gave me a purpose in life again, though.
I invited him over at Christmas Eve, and to my surprise he actually agreed to come over. I had done my best to cook something nice, and even though I had burned some of it, he never said anything about that, for which I was glad. I needed the lie then. I allowed myself to believe him, merely because I wouldn’t have been able to swallow the fact I had messed up the dinner of the man I loved. I was twenty, and he forty-four years older than me. His hair and beard had already showed gray in the auburn here, and there if you looked really well. The age difference never particularly bothered me, though.
He exceedingly thanked me for dinner with his traditional three kisses, and had missed again, much like it had been with my graduation. That time it couldn’t have been cause by my head turning, though. And that’s when I began doubting if it really had been not his goal, but just a miss. And the longer I thought about it, the more I began doubting that the kiss at my graduation had been a miss, too.
There was a big difference, though. From when we both had realized where our mouths were with my graduation, we both had pulled back. That time, we didn’t. No one was there but us, and the kiss soon spiraled into more. Tongues were allowed access, and curled and uncurled around the other’s, meshing with one another. Lips missed, and touched skin every now, and then. That was my second kiss, and even though I had no experience kissing, Albus had guided me well, making it feel natural. Hands eagerly discovered the less intimate areas of the other’s clothed body. It seemed we had been meant to be even back then. The chess game I had suggested after dinner never was. We didn’t go any further than that, that night, though. It really was too soon when Albus announced he should really return to Hogwarts once again.
From then, he occasionally came by in the weekends. We no longer feigned to go after the other’s cheeks, but freely kissed the other’s mouths with as much passion we could even muster. We never talked about how and why everything evolved, though. We didn’t need the verbal communication, and yet I was happy to hear these three wonderful words, “I love you”, coming from him one night a couple of weeks after that Christmas. I returned them with hesitance, and looked in his eyes, finding the usual shine lingering in them. That’s the night when Albus’ finger tips first dared wander under my dress. That’s where I had stilled him after a while, though. I wasn’t sure if I was ready, and Albus fortunately accepted.
We returned to just kissing, him allowing me the time to get used to the idea of being lovers. Valentine’s day came in the picture, and Albus took us both to dinner that evening, and as a real gentleman saw me to my residence again afterward, kissing my hand before returning to the castle of Hogwarts once again.
Easter holidays had approached sooner than anticipated that year, and that weekend when Albus came over, he first remained for the night with me. Oh no, we didn’t go much further than usual. We kissed a rather good deal, before I asked him not to leave that night. He looked into my eyes with those mesmerizing blue ones of his, and asked if I meant… I shook my head, and replied I wasn’t yet. We took turns changing in sleeping attires, before curling up in my bed, me spooned into him, and his arm draped across my middle. Feeling his touch through the soft yellow cotton of my nightgown, already setting my skin on fire, I came to realize that I would be ready soon, and wanted him to be the one to take my virginity.
He remained every night ever since, and left early morning before anyone would notice him missing at Hogwarts, and before I would have to leave for work. By the end of Easter holidays, it finally happened. We ended up spooning in bed again, and I had taken deep breaths to calm myself before turning to face him, and beginning to kiss him passionately. Albus asked me at least four times if I was sure. I affirmed every time, and was very grateful when he had kept in mind the fact he would actually be my first. Albus had me panting his name, and writhing and arching in delight even before we became one truly. Albus was very careful from when he first invaded my warmth, through the moving of our bodies against each other increasingly needier, and harder until he had lowered himself on me in satisfaction, me underneath him feeling just the same. It didn’t cause so much pain as was sometimes said, and I’m sure I was just lucky to have shared my first sexual experience with a man like Albus. I fell in love with him more. I couldn’t do anything else but give in as my love for him settled deeper.
I’ll be honest, and say it took a few sexual experiences for the love-making to be entirely about delight. I must assume Albus’ considerable girth and size could have something to do with it. He was careful enough, though. That never was an issue. We therefore didn’t make love every time from then, as maybe could be anticipated. It happened every now, and then again on my initiative. He never would force me into anything himself, and I liked him more for that.
Once I experienced love like that without any twinge of pain, I was unstoppable, though. From then, no night together passed by without us screaming the other’s name in the throes of passion. We sought to be together as much as possible, even though Albus’ responsibilities as a Headmaster at Hogwarts and my job at Flourish and Blotts limited us especially at day. We however still had the night to be together, and it rarely happened that we didn’t take advantage of that. I however didn’t mind.
The days cleared up as the end of another year at Hogwarts approached. The flowers decorating the gardens of Hogwarts began blossoming, and showed more alive than ever. I enjoyed this season of the year very much, and secretly hoped that maybe Albus and I could waste away at least some of the summer holidays together. It was a year after our first kiss, and I still was drawn to him more than anything. I read a lot of magazines when it wasn’t so busy at the store, and often read stories about how couples often grow apart after a few years, and how the tingly romantic feelings within slowly dissipate with time. I was sure something like that never would happen between us. Albus and I never really gave it a chance for us to grow apart. We learned to know each other well through the years, and therefore immediately knew when something was amiss with the other, and knew perfectly how to reply to that. Every time we end up making love, now even half a century later, it still feels like flashes come alive between us. I don’t know if it has something to do with being magical. I don’t know if our insatiable sex drive does, too.
I wasn’t shy of reading several Muggle magazines that ended up in my hands sometimes either. I read about how when you get older the need for sexual actions slowly disappears. I certainly won’t say that I’m as lean like in the beginning of our marriage anymore, and neither is Albus. It therefore is true that age has somehow limited us. We have become slightly too old to end up making love on his or my desk, and it is true that the older you get, the more exhaustion seeks havoc on you. We however still haven’t become too old to snatch each other away in lesser used corridors every now, and then to reaffirm how the other still turns us on after so many years. We still haven’t become too tired to show one another love, though. There’s always one last bit of energy left for that, and I don’t particularly mind. We still haven’t become too old to drive the other crazy with touches.
I was perfectly happy about my life, and about how Albus interfered with it. We were happily in love, and I was all too happy when Albus announced that maybe he could waste away some weeks of the summer holidays with me indeed. We did enjoy a great deal of it in bed, but liked doing silly things as making lunch and such together as well. We were going places as well, careful not to announce it to anyone yet, and thus careful that when we did go somewhere, that one place was unlikely to be visited by people of the wide Wizarding community. I thought I couldn’t be happier, but Albus…did the impossible.
In the middle of the summer holidays after our first kiss, when July rolled into August, Albus proposed. I vividly remember how I still didn’t get the hint when he sat down on one knee after having cooked me a very lovely dinner. He had refused to let accept any aid with anything, and had suggested I took a nice, hot bath while he himself was busy. When he suddenly pulled the box from his robes, and showed me the ring – a beautiful white gold with a small but shining square shaped emerald in the middle, my jaw had fallen open in something near shock even before he had said anything. I had finally gotten the intention of his whole nicely set up evening. His piercing blue eyes had merely shone behind his eyeglasses as Albus asked me to do him the joy of please becoming his wife. I had nodded furiously, not trusting my voice able to utter a word, and watched, breath held, as he slid the ring around my finger. It had fitted perfectly then, and that never changed over the years either. It even still fits perfectly today.
Once he had slid the ring around my finger, I launched myself at him, making him topple backward on the floor of the kitchen as I kissed him with the most passion I could muster. We didn’t actually reach the bedroom, and I would guess it is fair to say that night, and the rest of that summer holidays was maybe our most fertile of all the years we have been together until now.
I of course could no longer hide from Poppy nor Rolanda the reason for my nearly everlasting smile. I was careful not to wear my ring in public, and then kept it on a chain around my neck carefully tucked under my attires instead. Both Poppy and Rolanda had already asked a lot of times about my unusual happiness as of late. I trusted they wouldn’t go tell a soul, and shared with them the news of my relationship with Albus, and his proposal at the beginning of August. They were rather annoyed with me for having kept silence about it all for so long – especially when I told them just how long it had already gone on between us – but were very happy for me as well. They were almost just as excited. Almost.
I would be lying if I said that I immediately knew what was going on when I began feeling a bit different at the beginning of another year at Hogwarts. I wasn’t the only one that noticed. I still worked at Flourish and Blotts like I had for the last year. I was tired easier than I was used to, and so noticed the people I worked with, and my fiancé. He asked if I hadn’t been pushing myself too hard at the store, but that seemed unlikely to me when all you did was rearranging books, and occasionally helping with selling them. It was however true that the end of August and almost the whole month of September had been far busier than usual. Hogwarts pupils needed new books, and filled up the store, and orders came flying in of those that had forgotten this or that, and needed it all very soon. I thus wasn’t surprised when a back-ache took residence in my lumbar region not long after I had begun experiencing the fatigue.
I was bond to say Albus had been right, until all that combined with rather tender nipples. I noticed this when making love to Albus, and his usual heavenly touches somehow felt different than usual. I began having my doubts, but tried telling myself I was most likely due to have my period. All could be elucidated that way. It seemed rather logical.
That period never came, though. And then when I began experiencing morning sickness, I was fairly sure about the reason why I had been feeling like that lately. I turned to Poppy, who was studying to be a nurse at that time. She knew rather soon that my thoughts were right, and announced that indeed I was carrying a child – Albus’ child.
To me, it was the very best news of my life. Even when I was little, and tagged around with magic dolls and all, I couldn’t imagine a life without children. I always knew I wanted children. Something however limited my happiness about the matter. Albus and I had never talked about children, nor even about the possibility of me becoming pregnant, even though insofar as I knew we actually never had taken precautions. It just hadn’t crossed my mind in the half year we were sexually active. A knot formed within me, and I began wondering if I maybe should have. I didn’t know how he was going to react.
He read my insecurities at once when he arrived at my father’s old house that evening, and voiced them even before having set a foot inside. He had lovingly held onto my hand, and I had uttered I didn’t know how he would take up the news, but that he was going to be a father. To say I was surprised and relieved at his reaction would be nothing compared to how I really felt. He beamed at me, asking me to repeat what I had said. I again said that he was going to be a father in about eight months time. I never saw him smile more sincere as then, as he easily swept me off my feet, and up in his arms, and carried me over to the bedroom. I didn’t need ask if he was happy about the news. The love we made that night is actually tied with the one on the night Albus asked me to marry him. I certainly never heard him say he loved me so often as then. Every time he said it, my heart fluttered again. I smiled, and even cried with happiness watching him take a bit more time to sensually kiss my abdomen than usual. He was going to be a great father, for sure.
We got married around Christmas, before I began showing the evidence of what happens when two people in mad love get together too often. I got married in a long snow white dress as was tradition, but overall it wasn’t that big of a feast, and still it must be one of the most perfect days of my life. Beside Poppy and Rolanda and of course the official that declared us husband and wife, no one else was there but us. As of today no one else but these three people except for us and our children know about my marriage to Albus. I believe it is better that way. Albus being one of the most powerful wizards of the era, if not the most powerful at all, and the Head of Hogwarts, often has him in rather dangerous positions we like to shield our little family from. It is more of a precaution than anything else, really. Imagine what could have happened if Tom Riddle had known about us or the children when he first got power. Our family never would have been safe.
Shortly after our marriage I gave up my job at Flourish and Blotts, and moved in with Albus at Hogwarts, as he had suggested when I had told him about the baby. They were sad to see me go, and didn’t quite get why I would leave them. They even offered me a raise, which I politely turned down. I buried myself in lots of books for mummies-and-daddies-to-be. I was still young, and therefore insecure about how I would be raising my children and all of that. When my insecurities got the better of me, there was always Poppy, or Rolanda, and of course Albus himself to assure me all was going to be fine. I mostly believed them.
I overall enjoyed being pregnant, once the nausea in the mornings had passed, and allowed my motherly feelings to take over. I virtually swallowed those books to become good moms, and I experienced as some would call it a heavy cleaning obsession. I wanted it all perfect, and nothing less but perfect, before the arrival of our son or daughter. There was nothing anyone could do to talk sense into me without me getting downright irritable. They thus in the end ceased trying.
Our baby girl announced herself at the end of April, the beginning of my favorite season of the year. I’ll never forget how hectic it all was. I had gotten up with the usual back-pain as I had experienced it often during the last few weeks, even though maybe somewhat more painful than annoying than usual. Albus and I had breakfast together, and I had gotten through most of the morning without something unusual happening, until suddenly when making a cup of hot cocoa, I could feel something wet trickling down my leg. I wasn’t really experiencing any labor pains yet, and thus wondered if it could actually be the real thing indeed.
Albus found me a few hours later holding onto his pillow in our bed, writhing with my first labor pains. He was exasperated when I told him I had possibly already lost my water that morning shortly after breakfast, and hadn’t told him. He immediately ordered Poppy, who was still studying to be a nurse, to come right away. Poppy arrived as soon as possible, confirming that indeed I had gone in labor and it most likely wouldn’t be that much longer before the baby arrived either. Her estimation of later that day or at least early the next morning had appeared right.
I clung onto Albus’ hand the whole of the ordeal. At twilight, strands of my ebony locks tiredly matted to my forehead by sweat, my nightgown soaked with it as well, our daughter’s first screams sounded through our bedroom. I had never been so happy. I was very relieved that finally after what seemed like hours of having pushed myself backward, the pain was over, and we were finally rewarded with our baby. I was crying with happiness like I never had before, and Albus even shared a few tears of his own.
We happily adapted to the changes coming with the birth of our little girl, and enjoyed being new mummy, and daddy. Mrs. Smith, the witch that had taken over Transfigurations, when Armando had resigned, and my Albus had taken up the position of Headmaster, quite surprisingly made the decision to resign at the age of ninety-one about that time. Albus had a rather hard time finding someone else for the year following, and so almost naturally, I ended up falling in. I quite enjoyed being a Professor – more than I ever would have imagined. Albus initially remained searching, but a few years of things running smoothly with me as Transfiguration Professor, and Head of Gryffindor House, convinced myself, and Albus, that replacing me actually wasn’t needed. I got fully appointed at the age of thirty-one.
When our little girl turned two years old, I found myself with child again. We had a rather difficult time telling daddy’s little girl about the changes that were coming along together with siblings, but Albus and I were overexcited about the expansion of our family. We had a little boy a few months before our little girl turned three. Albus and mine’s life was almost fulfilled.
We both eyed our daughter and son growing way too fast, and I secretly hoped for another little miracle. I had enjoyed the earliest years of both my children with such joy, even though the exhaustion that came along with it, that I asked Albus if he thought his life was fulfilled with me and our two children one night after they both had fallen asleep. It had been about two years after the birth of our son, about the same time between him and our daughter. Albus eyed me wearily and told me he thought that yes, his life was fulfilled, and that he was happy about how things were. He had immediately seen through my question, though, and had returned it. I couldn’t lie to him, and shared with him that maybe I would like another child, for I thought three would make it all perfect if it wasn’t already.
Albus of course didn’t hesitate to show his excitement, and happily conceded in our tries to conceive another child. We tried for a while, until after a year of no success, we no longer hoped. Albus believed that it was all because of him, and his age. I ensured him I was sure it wasn’t his fault, and I wasn’t blaming him, and slowly began believing that the fault lay with me. It just wasn’t meant to be, I thought. We had a rather hard time then, and I’m glad our marriage never suffered under it. We let each other be if necessary, and comforted the other if that deemed best.
That was until just a few months after we had determined to give up, and just be happy with the two wonderful children we already had. I easily recognized the signals, and found confirmation by Poppy, who by that time had been appointed as Hogwarts’ nurse, and matron. It is one of the most wonderful surprises I have ever gotten in my life. Both Albus and I were so happy.
It all however exceeded our expectations when in the fourth month of my pregnancy, Poppy announced that both number three and four were on their way. I never could have guessed or hoped for something like this to happen, especially since I didn’t know of any twins running in the family, nor mine, nor on Albus’ side. We were absolutely thrilled about the idea of not only one, but two more babies joining our family, even though it meant serious changes coming, even more so than with the birth of our daughter or son before.
It was…significantly easier to tell them about what was going to happen once they noticed their mummy’s belly swelling than had been telling our daughter about her brother’s arrival. Adeline was nearly six, and Flannery half as old as she. We didn’t go into details, but it seemed that both of them got they were going to be a big sister and brother to two more babies.
As had been the case with both our daughter and son, we never wanted to know their gender until birth. Both Albus and I liked the idea of keeping it a surprise for nine months. Neither of us particularly cared about the gender, as long as the children were healthy. We both thought ourselves already unbelievably lucky to have had two wonderful, healthy children. It didn’t keep Poppy and Rolanda from putting secret bets, though. Neither of them won that time.
I had a bit harder time being pregnant. I carried two children inside me instead of one, and my body had to adapt to that. I was in the end of my twenties, and wasn’t so happy when Poppy told me to slow down for their sake. Once the initial fatigue had dissipated, I had energy for three, and I hated resting. I however knew it would be best for the children. Otherwise I most likely never would have agreed. Fortunately Albus knew, and tried to make as much time for me as possible. Just like with the other two pregnancies, he was the best husband any woman could wish – not that that ever was different when I was not pregnant, but those months he seemed to be even more doting, and observing. He never gave me the chance to ask for something. He already gave me whatever I needed before I could possiblly imagine about it. I can never thank him enough for that.
Making love was difficult, though. We almost had no other choice but be inventive in our sexual ways near the end of the pregnancy. Not that either one of us really minded, though. Where I had been obsessed with perfection, and forever cleaning with Adeline, that had already lessened when I was with Flannery. When pregnant with the twins, and not being permitted to clean among others – Poppy knew me – my obsession for perfection and such was exchanged with an obsession for my husband. I never knew if making love four times a day wasn’t permitted either, nor did I ever ask.
I don’t know if our not so quiet sex life could have anything to do with the twins’ early announcement. They actually were well near a month early when I vividly recognized the pains that accompanied the process of child birth. My water broke only near the end of the labor this time, though – unlike had been the case with our other children. My water had broken even before the worst pain had begun with both our daughter, and son.
Giving birth to the twins surely was a lot harder than giving birth to one child had been. I had never seen Poppy’s or my husband’s eyes so large with worry before. I had never screamed so hard myself. To top it all, whereas my earlier births had gone over relatively fast, I was in labor with the twins for almost twenty hours. Poppy and Albus never left my side, while Rolanda took care of our other children. Until today, I’m still very grateful for that. I don’t believe I ever would have managed to go through it all without either of them again. The pain was immense, and to the point of unbearable. I however still refused to accept anything against it. I wanted to give birth naturally, even to the point of Poppy and Albus’ annoyance.
With the birth of our non-identical twins, our family was in balance. We had gotten another daughter and son, both healthy despite having arrived at thirty-seven weeks. My life was fulfilled with them. And as long as my marriage with Albus has lasted, I never felt any less but fulfilled. Our sons and daughters all four grew up to be the kind of people we both really wanted them to be. We’re supposed to be grandparents before the beginning of next term, too.
I still feel my heart flutter when I look at Albus. I have gotten my fairy tale ending, and I really wish for everyone reading this the same.
She recalls, and allows us to follow through the best days of her life. - K+/T
A/N: Hi, everyone. So I have been working on this fan-fiction for quite a while. I'm not sure whether this is considered Fluff, but I thought that it would be fitting well here, so... Please review.
I’m not sure when it all began anymore, and some pieces of my memory have escaped me sadly enough. He’s there to aid me in recalling every now and then, but there are a lot of things about my relationship with Albus Dumbledore that I’ll never forget, too.
I’m not sure when I really fell in mad love with him, but I assume that it must have begun somewhere in between my sixth and seventh year, that I truly realized whatever I was feeling, could be more than just respect, and admiration.
Being the daughter of a well known alchemist, and a rather gifted witch who died way too early, I too got my invitation to enter Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry at the age of eleven. My father’s eyes had showed such pride at eyeing the letter which he had gotten at that age as well. My mother, who died giving birth to their only daughter, would have been proud, too. I didn’t question my father’s sincerity about that matter. I myself was so very happy as well, even though a twinge of fear with all the exciting facets about me going to Hogwarts arrived together with my letter, and settled into my thoughts and the rest of my being. It only began to resolve in my second week there.
I felt at home sooner than I would have guessed. Poppy Pomfrey and Rolanda Hooch, even though the first was a Hufflepuff and the latter a Ravenclaw, soon became the best of my companions due to some lessons we occasionally had together. All three of us were kind of lonely in our Houses. It doesn’t mean that I – nor Poppy, or Rolanda for that matter – haven’t had those in our respective Houses, but it hasn’t been the same. There’s a difference between knowing one another through, and through, and enjoying to sit beside one another during lessons or in the Common Room when working on papers. Our companionship of then most likely leads to how well we still know each other now. We merely need to look at one another to gather the seriousness of the situation or burst into ridiculous fits of giggles no one ever would anticipate of either one of us. That’s never changed. I never would have guessed all three of us would end up teaching at Hogwarts together some day, but it is one of the best things.
I have known Albus since my arrival at Hogwarts. He was the one who helped me up when I fell over my own feet in my nervousness at the occasion of my very first lesson of Transfiguration. I was so embarrassed. Albus had merely smiled, eyes shining beneath his famous half-moon eyeglasses, while helping me to my feet. I didn’t manage to look at him for weeks without blushing.
No, I didn’t fall in love with him then. I didn’t fall in love with him at the age of twelve, or thirteen, or fourteen, or fifteen. At the age of sixteen however, I slowly began feeling a rather uncharacteristic tingling in my fingers when he sometimes put his longer ones on mine to show me how I should move my wand. I never really thought about the how or why, and never shared it with either Poppy or Rolanda at that age, nor did I particularly search for Albus’ aid. It somehow seemed as if he intuitively aided me more often. Maybe I was just imagining things, but until today I’m sure that he at that point began falling in love with me. I never asked. I began becoming a woman in all senses of the word then. I began getting feminine curves and all of that. It wouldn’t be so odd if it had been then.
Never did anything occur between us, though. I attended his lessons. I did his homework, and handed it in on time. I had good grades, and never got any less but an A. The same would go for all courses. I was a happy burgeoning woman and was happy at Hogwarts, and as happy to go home with holidays, too. However that didn’t last as long as I would have liked…
When I was seventeen, I got a rather unanticipated letter at breakfast one Friday morning before Christmas, addressed to me in an unknown handwriting. I’ll never forget that day, and I even still have the letter in my drawer somewhere. It read that my dearly loved father had fallen ill with unknown disease and been taken to St. Mungo’s. That Mr. McGonagall wanted me to know. I had left Great Hall in tears, and hurriedly. Both Poppy and Rolanda had come after me. I had let them read the letter, and accepted their comfort until the bell had announced the very first period of the day, forcing us to part until the break after second period.
I had nodded when they had asked if I would be fine, and taken off to double Transfiguration with the Slytherins. I had been too off-minded to consider using a charm to hide the evidence of having cried, earning me some odd looks. No one had dared ask if anything was amiss, except for Albus Dumbledore. No one else had appeared to care. He had asked me to stay after the bell had announced break time, and had wondered if anything was the matter. I had broken down in big tears once more, handing him the letter I had received that morning – already stained by my tears of earlier – for I thought I no longer would have been able to speak. After having read the letter Albus had suddenly enveloped me in his embrace. I had thought he must have felt sorry for me, but later on I learned that then the love had been mutual.
He had suggested to ask the Headmaster about exceptional permission to leave the castle that evening so that I could see my father. I don’t remember it all anymore. My head had been somewhere else then – halfway with my father ill in St. Mungo’s, halfway with the smell of Albus in my nostrils as he tucked my head under his chin and stroked me to reassurance, and the feel of his warmth against me.
That evening after dinner, like Albus had told me, he and I had walked in silence to where the boundaries of Hogwarts ended. I Apparated by his side to St. Mungo’s. He was there the whole way, even though he had suggested to go and give me some time alone with my father once I had sat by his side. I then told him he didn’t have to, and thus he had remained, for which I was glad. My father had been looking worse than I ever would have expected. His voice had been weak when saying goodbye to me. I only realized it had been a goodbye later on. He had told me he loved me, and was proud of me. That he was sorry for everything. I had told him that there was nothing to be sorry about, told him I loved him as well, and kissed his forehead.
When Albus and I had arrived at the gates of Hogwarts again, he had escorted me to the portrait of the Fat Lady, before making for his rooms. I learned later, after breakfast Saturday morning, when Albus called me to his rooms, that by his return, a letter of St. Mungo’s had laid on his desk saying that my father had died not long after Albus and I had Apparated again.
I had gotten Headmaster Dipper’s exceptional permission again on Wednesday to attend my father’s funeral. Albus had again been the one to escort me back and forth to Hogwarts again. I had held his hand through the whole of the funeral. That’s when the flame must have been enlightened for real, I believe, even though the situation.
I remained at Hogwarts during the holidays after that. Poppy and Rolanda both had been kind enough to do the same so that I wouldn’t feel alone. During the summer holidays, I fared home alone and lived alone in the house I had shared with my father. I put all of my father’s things in boxes, but never felt the strength to throw anything away until years later. I wasted away the first of my two months summer holiday doing just that, and wallowed in melancholy. I needed that. I got through the second at the Pomfreys. Poppy’s eldest sister had gotten married in the beginning of the year, and moved. I could use her room, and did.
The first day of my very last year at Hogwarts arrived soon, though. I still remember how the time had fled all of a sudden. I only realized later that was because Poppy had done everything to keep me busy. Rolanda had visited often enough, too. By the end of August that year, I had gotten to put away the death of my father. That didn’t mean I missed him any less, but putting it away surely was a beginning. It too was the beginning of Albus and mine’s more intimate relationship. He would send me notes during lunch to ask if I was feeling up for a game of chess some nights. It would put my mind off things. And as I slowly learned how to be better at chess, and answered Albus’ occasional questions about my well-being – me sometimes returning them – I slowly but surely got over the death of my father, as I slowly but surely began feeling more for Albus each day. Nothing ever happened between us until later, though.
That’s until I got my degree in Magic. On the day of my graduation, I still remember well, Albus and I…missed. That’s what I first thought it must have been. Headmaster Dippet had announced he was going to retire at my graduation feast, and told us all Albus was going to succeed him. I hadn’t particularly searched for him during the feast, and it hadn’t seemed as if he had for me, but somehow we both had ended up alone by the side of the quite busy dance floor together, taking sips of our Butterbeers. I had wished him congratulations on his exaltation, and he too had wished me congratulations on the end of my education at Hogwarts. He had leant in to give me the traditional three kisses on the cheek, but had missed with the last. He had first kissed my left cheek, and then the right one, before ending up kissing my mouth. I had turned my head right then, and we had ended up in a rather intimate embrace, enjoying the touch a bit longer than necessary or appropriate.
I had pulled back blushing furiously, thinking that due to my reaction he must have missed, and accidentally done something he never wanted. I later learned he had just reached his goal. It was our first kiss, but surely not the last…
We had continued keeping in touch with each other by owl after my graduation. I had gotten a job in Diagon Alley with Flourish and Blotts. Not that I needed the money badly. I had inherited quite a lot of my father. He had lived quietly in his life. I rather took up a job to remain busy, and get some experience in…something, and maybe move up later. By then I didn’t know why I was doing it all really. Albus was the one who gave me a purpose in life again, though.
I invited him over at Christmas Eve, and to my surprise he actually agreed to come over. I had done my best to cook something nice, and even though I had burned some of it, he never said anything about that, for which I was glad. I needed the lie then. I allowed myself to believe him, merely because I wouldn’t have been able to swallow the fact I had messed up the dinner of the man I loved. I was twenty, and he forty-four years older than me. His hair and beard had already showed gray in the auburn here, and there if you looked really well. The age difference never particularly bothered me, though.
He exceedingly thanked me for dinner with his traditional three kisses, and had missed again, much like it had been with my graduation. That time it couldn’t have been cause by my head turning, though. And that’s when I began doubting if it really had been not his goal, but just a miss. And the longer I thought about it, the more I began doubting that the kiss at my graduation had been a miss, too.
There was a big difference, though. From when we both had realized where our mouths were with my graduation, we both had pulled back. That time, we didn’t. No one was there but us, and the kiss soon spiraled into more. Tongues were allowed access, and curled and uncurled around the other’s, meshing with one another. Lips missed, and touched skin every now, and then. That was my second kiss, and even though I had no experience kissing, Albus had guided me well, making it feel natural. Hands eagerly discovered the less intimate areas of the other’s clothed body. It seemed we had been meant to be even back then. The chess game I had suggested after dinner never was. We didn’t go any further than that, that night, though. It really was too soon when Albus announced he should really return to Hogwarts once again.
From then, he occasionally came by in the weekends. We no longer feigned to go after the other’s cheeks, but freely kissed the other’s mouths with as much passion we could even muster. We never talked about how and why everything evolved, though. We didn’t need the verbal communication, and yet I was happy to hear these three wonderful words, “I love you”, coming from him one night a couple of weeks after that Christmas. I returned them with hesitance, and looked in his eyes, finding the usual shine lingering in them. That’s the night when Albus’ finger tips first dared wander under my dress. That’s where I had stilled him after a while, though. I wasn’t sure if I was ready, and Albus fortunately accepted.
We returned to just kissing, him allowing me the time to get used to the idea of being lovers. Valentine’s day came in the picture, and Albus took us both to dinner that evening, and as a real gentleman saw me to my residence again afterward, kissing my hand before returning to the castle of Hogwarts once again.
Easter holidays had approached sooner than anticipated that year, and that weekend when Albus came over, he first remained for the night with me. Oh no, we didn’t go much further than usual. We kissed a rather good deal, before I asked him not to leave that night. He looked into my eyes with those mesmerizing blue ones of his, and asked if I meant… I shook my head, and replied I wasn’t yet. We took turns changing in sleeping attires, before curling up in my bed, me spooned into him, and his arm draped across my middle. Feeling his touch through the soft yellow cotton of my nightgown, already setting my skin on fire, I came to realize that I would be ready soon, and wanted him to be the one to take my virginity.
He remained every night ever since, and left early morning before anyone would notice him missing at Hogwarts, and before I would have to leave for work. By the end of Easter holidays, it finally happened. We ended up spooning in bed again, and I had taken deep breaths to calm myself before turning to face him, and beginning to kiss him passionately. Albus asked me at least four times if I was sure. I affirmed every time, and was very grateful when he had kept in mind the fact he would actually be my first. Albus had me panting his name, and writhing and arching in delight even before we became one truly. Albus was very careful from when he first invaded my warmth, through the moving of our bodies against each other increasingly needier, and harder until he had lowered himself on me in satisfaction, me underneath him feeling just the same. It didn’t cause so much pain as was sometimes said, and I’m sure I was just lucky to have shared my first sexual experience with a man like Albus. I fell in love with him more. I couldn’t do anything else but give in as my love for him settled deeper.
I’ll be honest, and say it took a few sexual experiences for the love-making to be entirely about delight. I must assume Albus’ considerable girth and size could have something to do with it. He was careful enough, though. That never was an issue. We therefore didn’t make love every time from then, as maybe could be anticipated. It happened every now, and then again on my initiative. He never would force me into anything himself, and I liked him more for that.
Once I experienced love like that without any twinge of pain, I was unstoppable, though. From then, no night together passed by without us screaming the other’s name in the throes of passion. We sought to be together as much as possible, even though Albus’ responsibilities as a Headmaster at Hogwarts and my job at Flourish and Blotts limited us especially at day. We however still had the night to be together, and it rarely happened that we didn’t take advantage of that. I however didn’t mind.
The days cleared up as the end of another year at Hogwarts approached. The flowers decorating the gardens of Hogwarts began blossoming, and showed more alive than ever. I enjoyed this season of the year very much, and secretly hoped that maybe Albus and I could waste away at least some of the summer holidays together. It was a year after our first kiss, and I still was drawn to him more than anything. I read a lot of magazines when it wasn’t so busy at the store, and often read stories about how couples often grow apart after a few years, and how the tingly romantic feelings within slowly dissipate with time. I was sure something like that never would happen between us. Albus and I never really gave it a chance for us to grow apart. We learned to know each other well through the years, and therefore immediately knew when something was amiss with the other, and knew perfectly how to reply to that. Every time we end up making love, now even half a century later, it still feels like flashes come alive between us. I don’t know if it has something to do with being magical. I don’t know if our insatiable sex drive does, too.
I wasn’t shy of reading several Muggle magazines that ended up in my hands sometimes either. I read about how when you get older the need for sexual actions slowly disappears. I certainly won’t say that I’m as lean like in the beginning of our marriage anymore, and neither is Albus. It therefore is true that age has somehow limited us. We have become slightly too old to end up making love on his or my desk, and it is true that the older you get, the more exhaustion seeks havoc on you. We however still haven’t become too old to snatch each other away in lesser used corridors every now, and then to reaffirm how the other still turns us on after so many years. We still haven’t become too tired to show one another love, though. There’s always one last bit of energy left for that, and I don’t particularly mind. We still haven’t become too old to drive the other crazy with touches.
I was perfectly happy about my life, and about how Albus interfered with it. We were happily in love, and I was all too happy when Albus announced that maybe he could waste away some weeks of the summer holidays with me indeed. We did enjoy a great deal of it in bed, but liked doing silly things as making lunch and such together as well. We were going places as well, careful not to announce it to anyone yet, and thus careful that when we did go somewhere, that one place was unlikely to be visited by people of the wide Wizarding community. I thought I couldn’t be happier, but Albus…did the impossible.
In the middle of the summer holidays after our first kiss, when July rolled into August, Albus proposed. I vividly remember how I still didn’t get the hint when he sat down on one knee after having cooked me a very lovely dinner. He had refused to let accept any aid with anything, and had suggested I took a nice, hot bath while he himself was busy. When he suddenly pulled the box from his robes, and showed me the ring – a beautiful white gold with a small but shining square shaped emerald in the middle, my jaw had fallen open in something near shock even before he had said anything. I had finally gotten the intention of his whole nicely set up evening. His piercing blue eyes had merely shone behind his eyeglasses as Albus asked me to do him the joy of please becoming his wife. I had nodded furiously, not trusting my voice able to utter a word, and watched, breath held, as he slid the ring around my finger. It had fitted perfectly then, and that never changed over the years either. It even still fits perfectly today.
Once he had slid the ring around my finger, I launched myself at him, making him topple backward on the floor of the kitchen as I kissed him with the most passion I could muster. We didn’t actually reach the bedroom, and I would guess it is fair to say that night, and the rest of that summer holidays was maybe our most fertile of all the years we have been together until now.
I of course could no longer hide from Poppy nor Rolanda the reason for my nearly everlasting smile. I was careful not to wear my ring in public, and then kept it on a chain around my neck carefully tucked under my attires instead. Both Poppy and Rolanda had already asked a lot of times about my unusual happiness as of late. I trusted they wouldn’t go tell a soul, and shared with them the news of my relationship with Albus, and his proposal at the beginning of August. They were rather annoyed with me for having kept silence about it all for so long – especially when I told them just how long it had already gone on between us – but were very happy for me as well. They were almost just as excited. Almost.
I would be lying if I said that I immediately knew what was going on when I began feeling a bit different at the beginning of another year at Hogwarts. I wasn’t the only one that noticed. I still worked at Flourish and Blotts like I had for the last year. I was tired easier than I was used to, and so noticed the people I worked with, and my fiancé. He asked if I hadn’t been pushing myself too hard at the store, but that seemed unlikely to me when all you did was rearranging books, and occasionally helping with selling them. It was however true that the end of August and almost the whole month of September had been far busier than usual. Hogwarts pupils needed new books, and filled up the store, and orders came flying in of those that had forgotten this or that, and needed it all very soon. I thus wasn’t surprised when a back-ache took residence in my lumbar region not long after I had begun experiencing the fatigue.
I was bond to say Albus had been right, until all that combined with rather tender nipples. I noticed this when making love to Albus, and his usual heavenly touches somehow felt different than usual. I began having my doubts, but tried telling myself I was most likely due to have my period. All could be elucidated that way. It seemed rather logical.
That period never came, though. And then when I began experiencing morning sickness, I was fairly sure about the reason why I had been feeling like that lately. I turned to Poppy, who was studying to be a nurse at that time. She knew rather soon that my thoughts were right, and announced that indeed I was carrying a child – Albus’ child.
To me, it was the very best news of my life. Even when I was little, and tagged around with magic dolls and all, I couldn’t imagine a life without children. I always knew I wanted children. Something however limited my happiness about the matter. Albus and I had never talked about children, nor even about the possibility of me becoming pregnant, even though insofar as I knew we actually never had taken precautions. It just hadn’t crossed my mind in the half year we were sexually active. A knot formed within me, and I began wondering if I maybe should have. I didn’t know how he was going to react.
He read my insecurities at once when he arrived at my father’s old house that evening, and voiced them even before having set a foot inside. He had lovingly held onto my hand, and I had uttered I didn’t know how he would take up the news, but that he was going to be a father. To say I was surprised and relieved at his reaction would be nothing compared to how I really felt. He beamed at me, asking me to repeat what I had said. I again said that he was going to be a father in about eight months time. I never saw him smile more sincere as then, as he easily swept me off my feet, and up in his arms, and carried me over to the bedroom. I didn’t need ask if he was happy about the news. The love we made that night is actually tied with the one on the night Albus asked me to marry him. I certainly never heard him say he loved me so often as then. Every time he said it, my heart fluttered again. I smiled, and even cried with happiness watching him take a bit more time to sensually kiss my abdomen than usual. He was going to be a great father, for sure.
We got married around Christmas, before I began showing the evidence of what happens when two people in mad love get together too often. I got married in a long snow white dress as was tradition, but overall it wasn’t that big of a feast, and still it must be one of the most perfect days of my life. Beside Poppy and Rolanda and of course the official that declared us husband and wife, no one else was there but us. As of today no one else but these three people except for us and our children know about my marriage to Albus. I believe it is better that way. Albus being one of the most powerful wizards of the era, if not the most powerful at all, and the Head of Hogwarts, often has him in rather dangerous positions we like to shield our little family from. It is more of a precaution than anything else, really. Imagine what could have happened if Tom Riddle had known about us or the children when he first got power. Our family never would have been safe.
Shortly after our marriage I gave up my job at Flourish and Blotts, and moved in with Albus at Hogwarts, as he had suggested when I had told him about the baby. They were sad to see me go, and didn’t quite get why I would leave them. They even offered me a raise, which I politely turned down. I buried myself in lots of books for mummies-and-daddies-to-be. I was still young, and therefore insecure about how I would be raising my children and all of that. When my insecurities got the better of me, there was always Poppy, or Rolanda, and of course Albus himself to assure me all was going to be fine. I mostly believed them.
I overall enjoyed being pregnant, once the nausea in the mornings had passed, and allowed my motherly feelings to take over. I virtually swallowed those books to become good moms, and I experienced as some would call it a heavy cleaning obsession. I wanted it all perfect, and nothing less but perfect, before the arrival of our son or daughter. There was nothing anyone could do to talk sense into me without me getting downright irritable. They thus in the end ceased trying.
Our baby girl announced herself at the end of April, the beginning of my favorite season of the year. I’ll never forget how hectic it all was. I had gotten up with the usual back-pain as I had experienced it often during the last few weeks, even though maybe somewhat more painful than annoying than usual. Albus and I had breakfast together, and I had gotten through most of the morning without something unusual happening, until suddenly when making a cup of hot cocoa, I could feel something wet trickling down my leg. I wasn’t really experiencing any labor pains yet, and thus wondered if it could actually be the real thing indeed.
Albus found me a few hours later holding onto his pillow in our bed, writhing with my first labor pains. He was exasperated when I told him I had possibly already lost my water that morning shortly after breakfast, and hadn’t told him. He immediately ordered Poppy, who was still studying to be a nurse, to come right away. Poppy arrived as soon as possible, confirming that indeed I had gone in labor and it most likely wouldn’t be that much longer before the baby arrived either. Her estimation of later that day or at least early the next morning had appeared right.
I clung onto Albus’ hand the whole of the ordeal. At twilight, strands of my ebony locks tiredly matted to my forehead by sweat, my nightgown soaked with it as well, our daughter’s first screams sounded through our bedroom. I had never been so happy. I was very relieved that finally after what seemed like hours of having pushed myself backward, the pain was over, and we were finally rewarded with our baby. I was crying with happiness like I never had before, and Albus even shared a few tears of his own.
We happily adapted to the changes coming with the birth of our little girl, and enjoyed being new mummy, and daddy. Mrs. Smith, the witch that had taken over Transfigurations, when Armando had resigned, and my Albus had taken up the position of Headmaster, quite surprisingly made the decision to resign at the age of ninety-one about that time. Albus had a rather hard time finding someone else for the year following, and so almost naturally, I ended up falling in. I quite enjoyed being a Professor – more than I ever would have imagined. Albus initially remained searching, but a few years of things running smoothly with me as Transfiguration Professor, and Head of Gryffindor House, convinced myself, and Albus, that replacing me actually wasn’t needed. I got fully appointed at the age of thirty-one.
When our little girl turned two years old, I found myself with child again. We had a rather difficult time telling daddy’s little girl about the changes that were coming along together with siblings, but Albus and I were overexcited about the expansion of our family. We had a little boy a few months before our little girl turned three. Albus and mine’s life was almost fulfilled.
We both eyed our daughter and son growing way too fast, and I secretly hoped for another little miracle. I had enjoyed the earliest years of both my children with such joy, even though the exhaustion that came along with it, that I asked Albus if he thought his life was fulfilled with me and our two children one night after they both had fallen asleep. It had been about two years after the birth of our son, about the same time between him and our daughter. Albus eyed me wearily and told me he thought that yes, his life was fulfilled, and that he was happy about how things were. He had immediately seen through my question, though, and had returned it. I couldn’t lie to him, and shared with him that maybe I would like another child, for I thought three would make it all perfect if it wasn’t already.
Albus of course didn’t hesitate to show his excitement, and happily conceded in our tries to conceive another child. We tried for a while, until after a year of no success, we no longer hoped. Albus believed that it was all because of him, and his age. I ensured him I was sure it wasn’t his fault, and I wasn’t blaming him, and slowly began believing that the fault lay with me. It just wasn’t meant to be, I thought. We had a rather hard time then, and I’m glad our marriage never suffered under it. We let each other be if necessary, and comforted the other if that deemed best.
That was until just a few months after we had determined to give up, and just be happy with the two wonderful children we already had. I easily recognized the signals, and found confirmation by Poppy, who by that time had been appointed as Hogwarts’ nurse, and matron. It is one of the most wonderful surprises I have ever gotten in my life. Both Albus and I were so happy.
It all however exceeded our expectations when in the fourth month of my pregnancy, Poppy announced that both number three and four were on their way. I never could have guessed or hoped for something like this to happen, especially since I didn’t know of any twins running in the family, nor mine, nor on Albus’ side. We were absolutely thrilled about the idea of not only one, but two more babies joining our family, even though it meant serious changes coming, even more so than with the birth of our daughter or son before.
It was…significantly easier to tell them about what was going to happen once they noticed their mummy’s belly swelling than had been telling our daughter about her brother’s arrival. Adeline was nearly six, and Flannery half as old as she. We didn’t go into details, but it seemed that both of them got they were going to be a big sister and brother to two more babies.
As had been the case with both our daughter and son, we never wanted to know their gender until birth. Both Albus and I liked the idea of keeping it a surprise for nine months. Neither of us particularly cared about the gender, as long as the children were healthy. We both thought ourselves already unbelievably lucky to have had two wonderful, healthy children. It didn’t keep Poppy and Rolanda from putting secret bets, though. Neither of them won that time.
I had a bit harder time being pregnant. I carried two children inside me instead of one, and my body had to adapt to that. I was in the end of my twenties, and wasn’t so happy when Poppy told me to slow down for their sake. Once the initial fatigue had dissipated, I had energy for three, and I hated resting. I however knew it would be best for the children. Otherwise I most likely never would have agreed. Fortunately Albus knew, and tried to make as much time for me as possible. Just like with the other two pregnancies, he was the best husband any woman could wish – not that that ever was different when I was not pregnant, but those months he seemed to be even more doting, and observing. He never gave me the chance to ask for something. He already gave me whatever I needed before I could possiblly imagine about it. I can never thank him enough for that.
Making love was difficult, though. We almost had no other choice but be inventive in our sexual ways near the end of the pregnancy. Not that either one of us really minded, though. Where I had been obsessed with perfection, and forever cleaning with Adeline, that had already lessened when I was with Flannery. When pregnant with the twins, and not being permitted to clean among others – Poppy knew me – my obsession for perfection and such was exchanged with an obsession for my husband. I never knew if making love four times a day wasn’t permitted either, nor did I ever ask.
I don’t know if our not so quiet sex life could have anything to do with the twins’ early announcement. They actually were well near a month early when I vividly recognized the pains that accompanied the process of child birth. My water broke only near the end of the labor this time, though – unlike had been the case with our other children. My water had broken even before the worst pain had begun with both our daughter, and son.
Giving birth to the twins surely was a lot harder than giving birth to one child had been. I had never seen Poppy’s or my husband’s eyes so large with worry before. I had never screamed so hard myself. To top it all, whereas my earlier births had gone over relatively fast, I was in labor with the twins for almost twenty hours. Poppy and Albus never left my side, while Rolanda took care of our other children. Until today, I’m still very grateful for that. I don’t believe I ever would have managed to go through it all without either of them again. The pain was immense, and to the point of unbearable. I however still refused to accept anything against it. I wanted to give birth naturally, even to the point of Poppy and Albus’ annoyance.
With the birth of our non-identical twins, our family was in balance. We had gotten another daughter and son, both healthy despite having arrived at thirty-seven weeks. My life was fulfilled with them. And as long as my marriage with Albus has lasted, I never felt any less but fulfilled. Our sons and daughters all four grew up to be the kind of people we both really wanted them to be. We’re supposed to be grandparents before the beginning of next term, too.
I still feel my heart flutter when I look at Albus. I have gotten my fairy tale ending, and I really wish for everyone reading this the same.
