25 – Honeymoon
The room was small but quaint. The rough stone, outer wall hosted a tiny window draped in a heavy, dark cloth. The remaining three walls were ancient, white plaster, but well kept, sporting simple, wrought iron wall sconces. No one knew where the first night would be spent, but Albus made sure that strong wards were placed for privacy anyway. A large, wooden, four-poster bed dominated the chamber, and there was little room for any other furniture except for two small side tables. White candles glowed in each quadrant, and the red and white candles from the ceremony were lit on either side of the bed.
Much to Elizabett's disappointment, and occasional frustration, Albus had made certain to avoid close contact with her since before Yule. He wanted this to be right. He wanted to see what would happen.
It had been Nicholas who had suggested to Albus that they be married on Ostara. His reasons were more systematic than altruistic. Although Beltane, in May, was the celebration of the union of the Goddess and God, Albus was no God. A union on Ostara, between a mortal and someone connected with the Goddess would produce a strong heir, a child with untold powers. Nicholas had his suspicions about Elizabett and her propensity for Earth magic, and although he thought the skills were underdeveloped and suppressed, they appeared to be strong.
Albus' carefully worked his hands over Elizabett's silky skin, eliciting moans and responses that made him smile. He was patient, taking his time, studying the changes in her temperature and colouring. About half an hour ago, he observed a pale pink glow radiate around her. She never noticed. Now, as he eased his way down her body, stroking the soft, moist folds between her legs, the glow swelled into a bright crimson aura. She was amazing to watch. Her knees instinctively rose, inviting him in, but he continued his mission, staring across her contoured length. His beard brushed over her stomach as he whispered almost silently against her abdomen.
"Hieros Gamos, ruler and might,
Conceive with the Goddess here tonight."
The words became an inaudible chant as he nestled between her knees, his lips lightly brushing a tiny bundle of nerves that had Elizabett gasp and arch against the bed. He latched on, suckling tenderly, repeating the chant in his head, watching the crimson aura begin to pulse.
It was Elizabett's guttural cry for satisfaction that had Albus rise onto his arms and rapidly thrust forward, impaling her in one stroke. They moved together with precision, slowly at first but with growing intent, until Elizabett's eyes flew open, and she wrapped her ankles around his hips, abruptly stopping the motion. Her normally pale blue irises were white, but the dark ring remained, and the strength within her startled Albus as he was flipped onto his back, nearly rolling off the bed. Elizabett straddled his hips, deepening the penetration, lost in creating a rocking motion of her own. The aura intensified, pulsing a rhythm, and he held his hands out to her. Their fingers laced as she rode his body, her luminescent skin stunning the man beneath her. In his awe, he continued the chant, and what began as a murmur grew into a throaty groan.
"Hieros Gamos, ruler and might,
Conceive with the Goddess here tonight."
Both reaching their peak, Elizabett arched within the aura, her internal walls contracting against Albus, milking his seed and drawing it in, and as the marriage was consummated, the enchantment was cast. The crimson aura began to subside, turning pink, and then vanishing completely as Elizabett slumped over her husband, the energy temporarily drained from her body. He drew her across his chest like a rag doll, and they rested for a moment before she rolled to his side to be lovingly tucked under his arm.
Stroking her long tresses with his right hand, he grinned satisfactorily. If all had gone as planned, Elizabett would be pregnant. She had said that the powers seemed to get stronger with each generation. He wondered about the future. If Gellert was successful, he would have to… Albus shook his head to dismiss the thought. What was he thinking? He loved Elizabett. This was their honeymoon. Tipping his head to kiss her forehead, she smiled sweetly at him, and slipped her hand comfortably under his beard to stroke his chest.
"I must say, that was…intense," she grinned against his warm skin. "It was like running on complete impulse and feeling. Wow," she sighed.
"I'm glad I could please you. You were incredible. See, it was worth waiting for." He grinned remembering her pout when he had refused her advances in their new quarters the week before the wedding.
"I suppose," she muttered fingering his chest hair, then inching her hand lower, she impishly enticed, "Care to have another go?"
Albus chuckled lightly and placed his hand over hers, bringing it back to his chest. "I need a little recovery time." He patted her fingers and closed his eyes to sleep.
Elizabett snuggled against him feeling a bit disappointed that her advance had been put on hold, but trying to understand a man's physiology. She had little experience. Maybe he did need time to recuperate. She, on the other hand, was raring to go again. Her energy was returning.
As Albus' light snores filtered through the tiny room, Elizabett stared at the plaster ceiling. It had been an amazing day. The sun shone brightly, the ceremony was beautiful, and the meal of roast lamb had been exquisitely prepared. Petite had made the wedding cake and proudly oversaw the preparations for the food. Thomas had surprised her with his outburst, but had publicly apologized later that evening in a toast to the couple. She felt sorry for him in some way. It was obvious he still cared. She guessed that after a lifetime of caring for someone, you couldn't just turn it off. But he had left her, she reasoned, and in doing so, she was able to confront her feelings for Albus. She smiled to herself snuggling into the dreamy warmth. He was an incredible man, and she was lucky to have him. He had arranged this funny, little, thatched-roof hideaway on the Isle of Lewis for their first night. He said that the massive stone monoliths in the area had a strong historical significance to wizard kind. They planned to visit them the following day to pay tribute to the Goddess and God. "After all, it was Ostara," he had said. Funny how he never seemed to be very interested in spiritual matters until the past few months. She had always felt a connection, even though she didn't openly pursue the faith. Calling a priestess to perform the ceremony had actually been his idea. She smiled again. It looked like their relationship may be full of surprises.
~~~***~~~
"Did you know that these stones were positioned like this nearly four thousand years ago? We're standing in the centre of the second largest stone circle to Stonehenge, and if you look through here…" Albus moved Elizabett between two massive pillars and pointed over her right shoulder to the distant mountain range on the horizon. "What does that look like?"
Elizabett's eyes followed his finger, and she smiled at the image before her. "Didn't you get enough last night…and this morning?" she chuckled. "Or has the image burned itself into your memory?" The mountains had the form of a woman's body.
"Interesting, isn't it?' He grinned. "This location is just south of the arctic lunar circle. The moon rarely rises completely above the horizon, but when it does, it rises over that mountain range, the moon touching the earth, the God kissing the Goddess, so they say." He wrapped his arms around her from behind, resting his chin on the top of her head, feeling her slight body against his. "Callanish is said to have great power. Many come here to observe the sabbats, to pay tribute the Mother Earth and Father Moon."
Elizabett turned in his arms to face her husband. "Since when did you become so spiritual?" She twitched a curious smirk at him.
"Since I've found heaven on Earth." He hugged her warmly.
~~~***~~~
Arrondissement Douze, or the Twelfth District, was on the southeast side of central Paris, far enough from the tourists, but close enough to the Rivière Seine to watch the boats go by. It was a pleasant, residential area whose elegant, cut-stone buildings would one day be in demand in the bustling city. Elizabett looked out over the river from the long, narrow window of their rented, studio apartment and breathed in the cool, fresh air of early morning. She could almost smell the flowers blooming in the Bois de Vincennes further to the east. She and Albus had visited the spectacular reserve on the first day of their arrival. It was four times larger than Hyde Park in London, and was one of Elizabett's favourite places in France. Since their arrival, they had played the tourists, visiting such places as the Louvre, the Eiffel Tower, the Arc de Triomphe, and the Basilica de Notre Dame. It was wonderful to bypass the Muggle sightseers, and Albus gladly relinquished Apparition rights to his new bride. She was pleased to show him around. As much as she had been raised in seclusion in England, France was her second home. And since her graduation for Hogwarts years ago, she had been a frequent visitor, becoming almost as knowledgeable of the area as the residents. Yesterday, they had gone to the Champs des Mystère in Wizard Paris and enjoyed the cultural differences and similarities between the British Diagon Alley and the French equivalent. She smiled at the memory.
Hearing a rustle behind her, she turned to see her husband restlessly toss onto his back in the bed.
"Good morning, sleepy head." She smiled at the dishevelled man. "There's tea in the pot, and I bought some fresh croissants from the bakery on the corner. Are you hungry?"
Albus abruptly sat up and rubbed his hands over his face. He had had that dream again, and it startled him awake. They were in a strange little town, very old, with cobble streets, and dark, decrepit structures. It didn't look like Paris, but there was a familiarity about it that he couldn't put his finger on. His heart raced.
"Are you alright?" Elizabett asked with concern taking a step closer.
Albus shook his head to dismiss the memory, and smiled at the young woman standing in the warm sunlight. "Yes," he responded as he tossed the covers back. "Tea?" He stood, straightening his light blue nightshirt and padding over to the small dining table by the window to pour himself a cup. "Mmm, these look good." He picked up the flaky pastry to examine it.
Elizabett stood beside her husband sensing something wrong. She touched the back of her hand to his cheek. "You're flushed again, and sweaty, but you're cold. Did you have that dream again?" Albus said nothing but took a bite of the bread. "Albus, that's the third time since we arrived in Paris. There's something here that's obviously bothering you. Maybe it's time we left. You wanted to show me some places you'd been to, or we could visit Nicholas, or my grandmother?" she suggested earnestly.
"But, there's so much to see here," he began with regret.
"And, we can always come back. We have a whole lifetime to explore places together," she appealed with a comforting smile.
He closed his eyes, a funny twitch playing on his lips. She was such a good woman, so kind to him. He reached out to draw her into a loving embrace, and her arms reached around his waist to return the gesture.
"Would you mind if I left you alone for a few hours?" he quietly asked to the top of her head. "I promise to be back by lunch, and then we'll decide where to go next."
"As long as you promise not to run off with a witch from the Moulin Noire." She wagged a playful finger at him remembering his expression when they had passed the Wizard version of the Moulin Rouge on the magical side of Paris. "You be careful. I'll take a walk along the Seine."
~~~***~~~
Albus Apparated from just outside the apartment to a rustic dragon encampment in a hidden part of northern Romania. The place was nearly abandoned, and he wandered the site for a familiar face. Spying his contact by the compound of a female Horn Back, he cautiously approached and solemnly greeted the young man.
"You're in luck," the burly keeper gravely said. "We've had a death. You said you were looking for something in particular. I kept if for you. Sealed it the way you asked. I hope your experiment works."
"So do I," Albus replied with a serious nod. "What's happened around here? Things are so quiet."
The young man shook his head in revulsion. "Damn Muggles." A scarlet flush began to creep up his neck. "Even with the added shields, some of their weapons penetrated the west side of the compound. We lost one of our best. That package you're getting is worth a small fortune on the open market. Take care of it, and be very careful."
The men talked for a few moments longer, then turned to walk to the keeper's hut located on the other side of the rocky grounds. With a package the size of a loaf of bread tucked under his arm, Albus bid his contact "good bye and good luck", and focused on the vision from his dream. He couldn't understand the draw, but he needed to know where it would lead. Closing his eyes, he felt the recognizable squeeze as he left Romania and landed in front of a strangely familiar building.
Standing on the sidewalk on a deserted street, he stared at a dilapidated manor through the tall, wrought iron fence. The building was made of chipped, white brick and greying clapboard. The peeling, black shutters hung perilously from their hinges. There was a feeling of dread, obvious magical wards having been placed to keep the curious at bay. The grass was thick and deep, and the trees in the front yard had grown wild, brambles blocking the narrow path to the front door. The place appeared to be abandoned, but Albus had his suspicions. Someone evidently didn't want people to pry. Pressing forward, he passed through the first layer of wards and steadily traversed the overgrown path. Climbing the rickety, wooden stairs, he stopped in front of the simple, black door, examining the heavy knocker. It, too, looked strangely familiar, but he couldn't tell whether it was from his dream or from a distant memory. He knocked, but there was no answer. He knocked again. The wards were strong, but he sensed no one inside. Shrugging with disappointment, he shook his head and descended the steps. He really would have loved to know who this house belonged to and why he kept dreaming of it.
~~~***~~~
The sun shone brightly, but the cool breeze off the river had Elizabett cast a Warming Charm to fend off the early April chill. Still, it was a beautiful day. Leisurely strolling the boardwalk on the north side of the Seine, Elizabett had worked her way from the apartment to the centre of Paris. She had stopped a few times to watch the gulls over the water or to wave to tourists on the open, sightseeing boats that meandered under the bridges. You would never know that there were troubles in the world. The French were so full of life that they often couldn't see the dangers ahead. Stepping onto the terrace of a small café, the young woman ordered a hot tea to warm herself.
"What? No espresso?" A blond man in his late forties slid into the chair opposite her, making her jump. "And no personal ward to alert you of approaching strangers? Tsk, tsk. You're losing your touch."
"What are you doing here?" The hair on the back of Elizabett's neck prickled as she glared at the man.
"Oh, please," he drawled, leaning his left arm over the back of the chair, "I've come to offer my congratulations. You're a married woman now, Albus Dumbledore's wife." His grin was menacing. "Axius told me about the ceremony. How charming. A priestess. The flowers. My, my, how romantic."
"What is it you want?" Elizabett's jaw tightened, but she emitted an aura of control.
"My dear girl," he sighed, "I do miss your company. We need to have another chat. Personally, I'd love for you to bring you new husband along, but alas, I'm afraid we're on opposing sides. I'd have to kill him." He grinned wickedly.
"I can't just disappear without someone noticing. I have a life," Elizabett directed.
"For now." Gellert's lips twitched upward.
"Is that a threat?" Elizabett's eyes narrowed.
"I never threaten," her nemesis replied. "You know full well what I'm capable of. You'll find a way. My place. The next new moon." He rose with a polite nod and turned down the street, disappearing in the crowd.
Elizabett's stomach churned, and she pushed her tea away. She hated the thought of being at his beck and call and had to find a way to lessen his control over her. She sat silently for a moment, staring into the crowded street. She could feel the build of something big about to happen. There had to be a positive side to this. The last time they met, she was able to thwart some of his plans by covertly relaying them to Albus. As much as she hated the thought, it may be worth the risk to see what he was planning. With a heavy sigh, she set her resolve. The new moon was nearly a month away. She had time to plan.
~~~***~~~
"Well?" Nicholas anxiously pulled Albus into the library and away from the women who were sipping tea in the parlour.
Albus' cheeks turned crimson as he shifted his feet and looked down with slight embarrassment. "It's done." His lips twitched upward bashfully.
Nicholas broke into a broad grin drawing himself to his full height. "And? Were we right?" he asked softly.
Albus nodded with a small smile, closing his eyes at the memory. "It was amazing," he breathed. "The expression "she was glowing", it's real. Pink first, then a deep crimson. When she took control, her skin was… luminous."
"Unconditional love that led to passion, then the Goddess embodied. I knew it." Nicholas clapped his hands excitedly. "And the spell? Did she notice?"
"I don't know. I don't think so. I don't think it matters," Albus sputtered. "At this point, I would welcome whatever happens. I've never felt like this. I didn't think it was possible."
"So, it really is love." The old man smiled fatherly at his friend. "Love is a powerful emotion. It can make you do strange things, things you never expected to do. But, that love also provides a partnership, a companion. I couldn't imagine my life without Perenelle. She keeps me going. You once said that Elizabett was your muse. This is good. But, could you imagine a child with your combined powers? This is not something to be taken lightly. It's something to be cherished."
Albus closed his eyes again and inhaled deeply. "Any child with her would be cherished, but I think her grandmother suspects. We visited her before coming here. I could tell that she was suspicious about something. But, I think she likes me. She keeps patting my cheek." He grinned.
"She can reach?" the old man joked. "She's such a tiny woman. I spoke with her at the wedding. You can feel the power radiate from her. But, be careful. If threatened, I feel she may do what she must to protect her line."
"She's an old woman. Do you think she's capable?" Albus questioned curiously.
"Absolutely," Nicholas replied indignantly. "Don't let her age cloud your judgement." He shook a crooked finger at him. "One day you'll be old, and you'll want people to see you for the powerful man that you are. With age comes years of perfected skills…if you're wise, and use them to your advantage." Nicholas knowingly tipped his head toward his friend.
There was a light tap on the library door, and it magically opened with a slight wave of Nicholas' wand.
"We're sorry to interrupt, but the Floo connection should ready," Perenelle announced to the men. "Elizabett has gathered your travelling case from the bedroom and is waiting in the hall," she directed toward Albus.
"I guess this is it, then." Nicholas shook his friend's hand. "Keep me informed." He clapped Albus on the shoulder as the women entered, and the younger couple moved toward the fireplace.
With warm goodbyes to their friends, Albus and Elizabett stepped into the Floo and disappeared in a flash of green flames.
"Keep me informed?" Perenelle eyed her husband suspiciously. "My instinct tells me that this is not about his work."
"Not entirely." Nicholas playfully scooped his ancient wife into his arms and gleefully placed a sloppy, wet kiss onto her cheek.