Chapter 25: I Do, by Cathy

"I do," he says.

Things have changed between the two of you, you fear. You follow him into his new office; it is a perfectly circular room, with carpet charmed to mimic the sky. Stars twinkle under your toes as you stand in front of his desk, afraid to sit down uninvited.

"Yes," he says, "I was thinking of you when I was reading some old poems of Emily Bronte's. They're charming, you know. The way nature speaks to her, particularly the 'wandering' winds."

"And the recurrent image of the dew," you chip in.

"And the way she reminds us all that we are mortal, that we only have one chance at life."

"Very Catullus-number-five, isn't it?"

"Indeed. You agree with it?"

"More than ever." You were born and raised a Catholic. Even if Oscar Wilde has flirted with your religion in his youth, and you quite like his works, you aren't sure if you can believe in some of the things they preach. Limbo is a very good example. "I don't even know if I believe in an Afterlife anymore – and anyhow, it's not as if we're given another chance at this world. Even if there is an Afterlife, it's saying that we're given entrance to another one…"

He's influenced you, and he knows it. In his classes you learnt about Materialism, the idea that everything in us is composed of matter, which perishes as we do. Lucretius is an example. It contrasts with Renee Descartes' theory that we have a mortal body and an immortal soul. McValley shuts his eyes, smiles at you and begins to say,

"Well, there is rest there
So fast come thy prophecy –
The time when my sunny hair
Shall with grass roots twined be."

That's not your favourite though – what you really like is the one to the North Wind, and you say it softly to yourself.

"In summer's mellow midnight
A cloudless moon shone through
Our open parlour window
And rosetrees wet with dew.

I sat in silent musing –
The soft wind waved my hair
It told me Heaven was glorious
And sleeping Earth was fair…"

You skip a few stanzas.

"The Wander would not leave me
Its kiss grew warmer still –
'O come,' it sighed so sweetly
'I'll win thee 'gainst thy will –

'Have we not been from childhood friends?
Have I not loved thee long?
As long as thou hast loved the night
Whose silence wakes my song?"

He is absorbed in a document on his desk, and you bite your lip for being so foolishly forward. You make a feeble excuse about having to go, but he takes your hand and puts a thin newspaper into it.

"I thought this might interest you – and Albus – he enjoys reading the muggle papers so much, bless him. And do come and see me again, won't you Cathy? We can have coffee or something…"

It can hardly have been better; you shut the oak door behind you, and you promptly slip and fall down the stairs, being so enraptured by the touch of his hand. All that is left for McValley to do is call you as he once did: the "daughter of the shadows", or simply "lassie", or best of all, "my girl".

C.I.A.R.C.

Gellert was quite careful to never cast any aspersions on his professionalism – whenever they were in Albus' company, he never kissed her or held her as he did when they were alone together. When she couldn't come to Godric's Hollow, he would come to her under cover of darkness.

She might be seated at her dressing-table, brushing her hair before bed, when she might find her sight snatched from her, as he clapped his hands over her eyes.

"Kit! Guess who?"

She loved his blindfolding game, and she would always reward him with a kiss, and sit on his lap, and let him brush her hair.

"Harder! Teddy! Harder!" she'd squeal playfully. He seemed to not mind the nickname, so she thought he might as well keep it. Gellert sounded mean and foreign, and serious. Apparently it was Hungarian for "sword".

"All right," he would say. "But first you have to listen to how I think muggle-borns ought to be treated in our New Empire, and tell me what you think."

Cathy would think angrily of her own parents, and how well they understood her need to be something more than a trophy wife with a title.

"Muggle-borns ought to be removed from their muggle parents as soon as they start showing signs of magic, to be adopted by childless wizarding couples, who will raise them as their own, to give them a better chance at a life with opportunities they would not otherwise receive."

Other times, he would watch her practice her curtsey as she tried to coach herself.

Lock left knee behind right, turn foot out, descend, look straight in front, keeping arms straight at sides, all the way to the floor, incline head at lowest point, straighten up slowly without wobbling…don't let the feathers fall into your face…good grief, the full court curtsey is more complicated than a Fidelius Charm!

"You look like a duck laying an egg from behind," he would comment, earning himself a poke in his stomach region. This would commence a poking war, leading to Gellert attempting to cheat his way to a win by kissing her.

"There's nothing to stop you from cheating," he would suggest. "Weightlessness Spell on the lot…"

"Yes," she would say, "But what happens when one of the muggles in the court picks up my train or veil…thus breaking the Statute of Secrecy?"

"Hang the Statute! You can at least put a Temporary Sticking Charm on the feathers…"

C.I.A.R.C.

Cathy wished she wasn't wearing a dress, as she watched Albus and Gellert duelling, or rather, wrestling, and getting grass stains all over their shirts. She drew the two boys – lying there, facing each other, Albus' wand poised under Gellert's chin and Gellert's hand sprawled on Albus' chest.

Gellert declared they had reached a stalemate, and Cathy scolded them for wasting time. "Don't we have work to do?" They had discussed construction of a mirror the night before, as they went through their nightly ritual of brushing her hair.

"What do you think you would see?" Gellert had asked. "I'd see myself forever young, and you forever beautiful," she had replied. "But we both know the only way to do that – you must exchange your soul with a portrait." "For muggles, that is…" "Of course – for witches and wizards, who are far superior, there must be other ways…" "And we could find them – together!"

But Gellert and Cathy needed Albus – with his unrivalled powers of Transfiguration – to bring the Mirror to life, and when Gellert looked into the mirror he saw something very different.

"I will take the Wand, for I can see…I can see my path leading me to my grandfather's country. It's in Switzerland."

Albus also saw a Hallow; he saw the Stone. He would use it to bring his parents back, so that Ariana and Aberforth would not be alone.

Cathy wasn't prepared to admit that she had a priority above the Hallows. "That leaves me with the cloak," she said. "It's perfect; it'll replace my old one!" She thought of McValley's first gift to her, wrapped in tissue paper, boxed and carefully shelved. It was her way of preserving him forever, even if he was now gone. "And this one will never fade," she continued. "And I'll be jinx-proof too."

"It's perfect," Gellert said, repeating her words. "Do you know why the triangle is the strongest shape in architecture? Because it is held up by three sides. Like our New Empire."

It was late, and Cathy feared her parents might have discovered her, so she blew him a kiss, and Disapparated.

C.I.A.R.C.

The afternoon was horribly wet.

"How wonderful, Cathy, it's raining!" said her mother. "It must be your favourite sort of weather by now, spending seven years in Scotland!"

Cathy didn't know how to tell her mother that Scotland was not always cold and wet, that the winter winds were crisp, not chilly, or that Hogwarts was not a semi-dilapidated playground.

"Good luck," she said to Cathy, as the girl, with three yards of train over her left arm, carrying a bouquet that was bigger than her, wearing two white ostrich feathers and a long veil, made her way through the groups of court officials and down the corridor to the Throne Room.

She really needed it.

"Catherine Imogen Aurelia Reinette Carlton."

Cathy winced, only slightly so as not to displace her elaborate headdress, as her name was announced, and she walked across the cream-coloured carpet, resisting the urge to look over her shoulder to check that her train had not caught on anything.

Destination…determination…deliberation…oh wait…that's Apparition.

She bent down, fearful of taking an ignominious tumble rather than making a graceful curtsey. Her hands shook, and she gripped the bouquet harder. She kissed the Queen's hand in front of her. The Queen kissed her and she straightened up. She took three swift steps to the side and repeated the bow again to the princesses near her. It was only then that she remembered to smile – and to exhale.

Where was her wand? Oh – hidden – shoved among the flowers with a rosestem tied to its tip.

At last she could retreat, backwards, in a succession of choreographed curtsies, until she reached the threshold of the doorway, where a chamberlain threw up the cumbersome train for her to catch over her arm again. The ordeal was finally over.

She just hoped to find a discreet corner, in which she could release her wand and cast a Disillusionment Charm on herself so that she could have a few moments of fresh air. But someone tapped her on the shoulder. She looked over it, frowning.

"You look divine."

It was Gellert, and he looked resplendent in black and white silk, patent leather shoes and white gloves, and his English accent was immaculate.

"So do you," said Cathy. She leaned closer, to whisper in his ear. "What are you doing here?"

"Catherine!"

Cathy pressed her lips together and her eyes widened even more. "Oh no," she seemed to say, as her mother swept over.

"I don't believe we've been introduced," she said to Cathy, who now looked as if she had been Petrified.

"Archer Holland Perkins," said Gellert calmly. "My father is Captain Archelaus Perkins."

"Is that so?" said Cathy's mother, looking impressed.

Gellert had the sense not to say he was a wizard, or even that he was a friend of Cathy's from school, as he talked with her mother, and then with the other courtiers.

"You do not foresee yourself going into the armed forces like your father?"

"Perhaps," said Gellert. "But I would rather be the chessmaster than a pawn, or even a knight."

"He's one of your lot, isn't he?" said Charles, taking her by the arm. "Don't worry, he seems like a nice, down-to-earth chap. Better than that first fellow you introduced to me. Albert, was it? Looked like a bit of a pansy, that one, even without the gloves and stockings…while I don't approve of this one's curls, at least he isn't sporting a seventeenth-century cut, or shoulder-length lack thereof."

Cathy nodded numbly.

It was so good to have him speaking to her again, about trivial things which brothers and sisters were supposed to talk about.

"So how did you meet him? Be honest, now!"

"You don't want to know," Cathy smiled at her brother.

"Let me guess. You looked into his eyes for all of five seconds!"

"No! We…danced…and…" she nearly gave their adventures in Godric's Hollow away.

"It could be worse," sighed Charles. "At least someone's growing up."

Her eyes darted towards Gellert. He caught her gaze, grinned and lifted the vessel in his hand in her direction. "To world enough, and time."

"Andrew Marvell!" she mouthed, as he drank, his fingers light on the stately chalice, as the words rang in her head. Had we but world enough, and time, this coyness, lady, were no crime…

C.I.A.R.C.

Cathy blamed the coffee when anyone asked her, but it was something else that kept her awake for all of that night, that kept her heart pounding against the mattress, her hands twitching on the sheets, and her face scorching on her pillow as she tossed, trying to find a cool space. Secretly, she was afraid that if she let herself go, the perfection that was Gellert would be lost. Even as she screwed up her eyelids, attempting to sink herself into sleep, the image of him was burnt onto her eyelids. She arched her neck, thinking of the way he could run his fingers down the bony dips of her spine and coax unintelligible noises from the back of her throat.

The clock struck twelve, and a pair of lips brushed her forehead. She squirmed. "I was just about to go to sleep…go away Charlie…" She reached out to pull the blue-and-bronze curtains around her bed closed.

But she heard a deep, musical laugh, and dared to open her eyes. "I'm fast asleep and dreaming," she addressed the shadow cast by the moonlight.

"No, Kit, you're wide awake and dreaming," said Gellert.

"Teddy! Oh, Teddy! What would happen if the real Captain Perkins and his son had shown up? Or if somebody didn't recognise you?" Failing to conceal her enthusiasm at seeing him, she picked up a satin pillow from behind her and threw it at him. He caught it, easily, before it hit him.

"Oh, how I love it when you have a bit more lion-hearted spirit in you!"

"Happy Birthday," she said as coolly as she could muster.

He tossed her pillow into the air and caught it agilely again. "Can I take this token as an invitation to jump on your bed?"

"No!" she laughed.

"Well then, what about in it?" He reclined on his side, stretching out opposite her, propping himself up on his elbow upon the borrowed pillow. "I had all my bases covered, Kitty, I safely incapacitated – incarcerated – the real duo. And anyway, there are far too many courtiers for people to remember them by name. Besides, they're muggles! How good can their powers of recollection be under the actions of…besides, admit it, you were lonely, without anyone on your wavelength there…"

"Yesh," Cathy hissed through her teeth, as she smiled at Gellert. How could anyone remain cross with him for his antics? It was like torturing a puppy because it nipped you.

"You owe me one," he said.

"All right," she said, and she edged closer to him and kissed his mouth. "If that's what you came here for…would you like a gift tonight that you'll remember forever?" She nuzzled his chest, inhaling his scent.

She couldn't have predicted his response, as usual, as he took her hand. "No, Kit, I'd like a gift from you forever that'll make me never forget tonight…"

He had come to meet her parents. He had come to get the seal of approval from her brother. And now he had Come of Age. It could only mean one thing…

"Kitty, will you…"

C.I.A.R.C.

And imagining the talk when people found out you've broken the record for making an excellent match, you quite forget that Gellert isn't really Archer Holland Perkins. You imagine it will go like this:

He will go down on one knee to finish his question. Or maybe not, because he is Gellert Grindelwald, after all. But you can bet there will be an ostentatiously huge ring. "Kitty, will you be my queen, and let me be your king? Let's get married…"

You will make some comment, a feeble attempt at practicality.

"Romeo and Juliet were younger than us. 'She hath not seen the change of fourteen years, let two more summers wither in their pride, ere we may think her ripe to be a bride.'"

"Excusez-moi, I don't think it's so much my problem, as, what on earth would your parents say? I'm sure they won't consent."

"I would bring you back to Germany and ask them, 'could you ever have asked for a more beautiful daughter-in-law?' Besides, you speak perfect German, they'll love you."

"You mean I'm half-French. They'll loathe me."

"Non, mademoiselle."

"We've known each other for all of two weeks."

"Romeo and Juliet did it in two hours."

"Yes, and they ended up tragically dead."

"Sebastian and Olivia were pretty damn quick."

"That was only because Olivia thought Sebastian was Cesario." You will thoroughly enjoy the intellectual tennis match, drag it out as much as you can, and come off as a worthy opponent. "Will you hoist sail, sir? Here lies your way."

"Kat and her Pet managed to go from enemies to lovers in under four acts! How long will it take to tame this Kitty-Kat?"

"The door is open, sir, there lies your way; you may be jogging whiles your boots are green!"

"O wilt thou leave me so unsatisfied?" He will grasp your hands, and in one instant have his hands around your waist, you'll have yours around his neck, and he'll spin you around so that you scream for joy…

"Kiss me, Kate…"

You'll submit to him at last.

Then he'll remind you, nudging you towards the sparkling thing in his hand. "What of my birthday present?"

And you will say…

C.I.A.R.C.

"Yes, of course!"

"I knew you'd look after Ariana for us! Kitty – you have so much potential to be a Great Healer – I know – I knew – you'll be perfectly marvellous!" said Gellert, in his unbelievably perfect voice.

Cathy rubbed a strand of her hair back and forth between her thumb and index finger as her romantic reverie - the perfect Shakesperean proposal - completely evaporated. "Did – did you enjoy yourself today – yesterday?"

"I did! Imagine what it will be like when all those people have to bow to us!"

Cathy yawned. All she wanted was for that glint in his eyes to fade, so that she could nestle under his chin and fall asleep in her "Teddy's" arms.

"I always have fun, no matter where I am. But what about you? Did you have fun?"

"It was rather fun, dressing up. I quite like the dress," she admitted with a guilty smile, looking at the white, beaded fabric rippling over the back of a chair. "I could wear it again. But I'll have to remove the train."

"And what will you do with that? A blanket? Curtains? I know! A piano cover!"

He was back, just the way she liked him, fooling around like that. She reached out and pulled his hair.

"Why not, it is about nine feet long, after all!" He swung his legs over the side of the bed. "Sweet dreams," he said, drawing the covers up to her collarbone. "Sleep well, Kitty."

C.I.A.R.C.

"Of course you may take them outside, boys," said Cathy. "But don't get grass stains on them," she cautioned jokingly.

In an instant, the three of them were seated by a mountain of books, in their favourite grassy spot.

"How did you get those books? They must have cost a fortune!" Albus was awed by the volumes which Cathy had purchased.

"Easy – a few days ago, I told my parents I was going dress shopping with the Favourleigh sisters, Wilhelmina and Angelina. They virtually gave me a blank cheque. So I did a mild Memory Modification charm on Bill and Angie, taking a leaf out of Teddy's book," she noticed Gellert's eyebrows going up, and she did not elaborate. "I ducked into Gringotts and changed some Wizard Money…thank the Lord that silk, satin, velvet, ribbon and lace aren't Gamp's Five Exceptions…"

"And so," Gellert finished for her, "You ordered these, but had them sent to Godric's Hollow for fear of your mother's wrath."

"That's it, exactly," she said, picking up Rubler and Koss's Guide to Deconstructing Emotions and tossing Neo-Colonialism by Ute the Unshakable to Albus.

"And you've told them today that you're at Charlotte's piano recital."

"Her name is Danielle, but you were close," said Cathy, impressed, scanning the first chapter of What Shall We Tell The Children, entitled "Why Children Forgive So Easily".

"My, Gellert, I think it is you who have the boundless knowledge," said Albus. "It knows none of its natural boundaries, like mind and body, world and time, and decency…"

"My poor little witch-princess, locked in a tower," said Gellert, who had Mystical Manipulation of the Masses and Why the Greek and Roman Empires Failed balanced on his knees. "In time, it will the other way around – it will be those who resist us that will be locked up in the highest tower…"

"I thought," said Albus, "That the plan was…"

"To smite all resistance?"

"The Machiavellian Way, of course, in the name of ultimate peace."

Gellert got up, on all fours, crawled over to Albus and tweaked his nose. "Yes – but I feel that those tactics cannot persist forever; at some stage we will all have to settle down. What did Zeus and his divine companions do atop Mount Olympus? They smote all the nameless mortals beneath them who made light of them, but if one of their fellows truly offended…they chose imprisonment."

"But wasn't that just because they were immortal and couldn't be smited? Smite. Smote." said Albus, struggling to find the correct verb.

"Smitten?" suggested Cathy.

"No, I speak of characters like Sisyphus and Tantalus, who truly defied them? Sisyphus, who trapped the god of Death himself, and Tantalus, who deceived Demeter? No – they were imprisoned in Tartarus, to serve as examples to those who came after them. Far more efficient."

"There are precious few of us left without spilling any more magical blood," said Albus, and Gellert nodded his agreement. The boy now slithered through the grass towards Cathy, his stunning eyes burrowing into her plain ones. "What do you think Tartarus would look like?"

So she started quoting from Virgil. "moenia lata videt, triplici circumdata muro. Aeneas sees wide fortifications, surrounded by a threefold wall."

"But 'moenia' can mean 'castle' too, can't it? We shall have a castle." said Gellert. "Black as the Underworld.

"A place where nothing is as it seems – a place of dreams – a place of…"

"Kitty," he said, looking up at her with his irresistible green-and-blue puppy-dog eyes. "Tartarus is a place where all the bad things in the world – bad dreams, bad creatures, bad memories – are shut up – now – don't tell me what it looks like, show me."

C.I.A.R.C.

Your eyes are bright red from crying. Today you have been venting your frustration with your family – the way they have your future plotted out for you. The way Charles is drifting away from you – sometimes he's kind, and it's like "the old days", but at other times he's sharply sardonic and as condescending as Hesper. You've just had a letter from him – a rare occurrence – that essentially parroted your parents, telling you, "Your behaviour regarding magic school was endearing when you were eleven, but in someone of your age, fifteen, it is most certainly not. What are you going to do when you're a grown woman, do magic tricks for your suitors?"

If only you could do magic at home, if only there wasn't the Statute of Secrecy, if only there wasn't the Decree for Underage Wizardry…Charlie would see that your magic is as real as he is. This is what you have been telling McValley. Because McValley listens, and is never afraid to share the secrets of his past with you.

He was always interested in time travel because, he tells you, he has much unfinished business with his mother, and since there is no way to bring back the dead, inferi being a sorry excuse for resurrection…

"I dreamt a dream," he tells you. "That I found a way to go back. I was perhaps ten years old. They were walking side-by-side together. The day started sunnily – but by dusk, it was pouring. In my dream, I was running – either to catch up with them or to escape from something behind me, I don't know – and I slipped in a puddle. They turned around to look at me. My father said, 'it's a filthy street urchin, don't touch it, it's probably full of diseases' but my mother said, 'child, where are your parents? You should not be out alone in the dark, at this hour.' And I said, 'it's all right. I was looking for my mama and papa, but I guess I'm too early."

You burst into tears again.

"Cari," McValley says. "I only meant to tell you; it's clichéd, but good things come to those who wait. One day, what has been until now a curse, will become the best of blessings."

But you're not crying just because of his heartbreaking story – you've heard worse from him – what you really want is for him to lean over his desk and reach out for you, even though he never will.

A/N: A HUGE thanks to WhiskeyTangoFoxtrot for looking over this chapter, and SaintRidley, Dr.Shanty and deeps85 for their continued support in the form of reviews. I would do you a little parody right now, but I have an assignment due tomorrow which still needs polish, and I've already procrastinated enough via fanfic and baking...aaarrgh...