Learning About A Life

“Penelope,” I heard Albus say. “It’s late, dear heart, and time to go to bed.” The little girl I held in my lap began to squirm in protest.

“Can I tuck her in Albus?” I asked tentatively before the girl could put up any protest at being sent to bed.

He looked at me with eyes so full of emotion—it quite unnerved me, as I was used to those eyes resembling blue ice, not the warm summer sky. He nodded, almost imperceptibly, while I gently gathered the girl into my arms and followed him as he led the way to her bedroom.

As he opened the door leading to his private quarters, I was rendered speechless. In the place of honour above the fireplace was a large family portrait with Albus standing beside a very pregnant version of myself. I looked toward him questioningly, but he mouthed, “Later,” and continued leading the way to Penelope’s bedroom.

As we finally reached the room, very girly, yet with a Gryffindor sense of pride in the deep pinks and golds, Albus turned down the covers of the bed. I placed the now-sleeping girl between the sheets and kissed her on the forehead. He followed suit, and after I took one last look at the girl, he led me back to his sitting room after dousing the lights in her room.

“Albus…” I began, only to be halted by his raised hand.

“Don’t ask any questions yet, my dear, because I don’t think I can get through this story after being interrupted.”

I nodded my acquiescence and positioned myself more comfortably on the chintz loveseat which faced the portrait of Albus and myself.

“I began teaching at Hogwarts as the Transfiguration professor after defeating Grindelwald, my one-time friend. Several years passed, and a most talented student named Minerva McGonagall arrived at Hogwarts. She was a very talented witch. By the time she had begun her sixth year, she was already an Animagi. I fell in love with her when she came back to Hogwarts as Head Girl in her seventh year. I began courting her after her graduation, and a year later, we were wed. She began teaching at Hogwarts as the Transfiguration professor after Armando Dippet died and I became Headmaster. Before she could officially start her duties, however, she became pregnant. I refused to let her start teaching, so I covered her classes until she gave birth. On March 15th, our daughter, Penelope McGonagall Dumbledore, was born. Minerva died in childbirth. Obviously, Penelope has never met her mother. I never remarried—how could I replace the love of my life? When you showed up here tonight, I thought I was dreaming. But when Penelope came into the room, I realised that it was real. You were really here. I’ve missed you ever so much.”

Albus quickly crossed the room from where he was pacing in front of the fireplace and grabbed me in a passionate kiss. As I let myself return the kiss, all I could think about was how I felt that this was a dream. I prayed it wasn’t. As we broke apart, I rested my head on Albus’s chest and took a deep breath.

“Are you all right, dearest? Is this moving too fast for you?” Albus inquired, obviously concerned at my silence.

I didn’t respond for a moment as I tried to memorise every detail of this moment—the way he smelled, the feeling of his hands removing my hairpins, the sound of the fire crackling in the grate. But eventually, I looked up into his eyes, noting again the difference between his and the Albus’s of my time.

“We’re not going too fast, darling,” I replied. “I just wanted to memorise this moment, as I’ve dreamed of it for so long.”

With the last syllable of my answer still lingering on my lips, I felt the world beneath me move as Albus swept me up into my arms and carried me into his bedroom, placing one-way silencing and locking charms on the door before claiming my lips in a fervent kiss.