Chapter Eight

That blissful day with its strange vision was the start of a relationship that would conquer decades to come. The mysterious dream we had apparently both been having at the same time made us more than lovers, though. It was a very bizarre experience, true, but it was worth it. Not only did it- but that I did not yet realize- bring me considerably closer to the core of my own personal mystery, it also brought me and Albus much closer together than we already were.

Something stronger even than that valued friendship of ours came between us. A bond, perhaps stronger even than our mutual respect- than our love- came between us- and it was the bond of companionship. Of sharing something deeper than a human affection, even.

Of course I loved him. Of course I enjoyed every moment of those quiet Saturday afternoons, after a few weeks simply spent by lying in each others arms and staring at each other in rather silly adoration. But there was something else as well, and though we did not experience it with every kiss we shared, and though it did not exactly make our kisses less enjoyable, we knew we shared a love, and with that love, a mystery.

It was Albus who first mentioned it, though. It was very strange but I- call it cowardice or call it an overdeveloped sense of privacy- felt a strange sort of restriction towards sharing the secret I'd kept to myself for so many years.

When he first spoke about it, my only reaction was to lazily raise my head from its resting place against his chest, I must admit- but as I realized that two could most probably come closer to a solution than one, I pushed my glasses a bit firmer on the bridge of my nose, then nodded in answer to his question.

"Minerva, when I first kissed you, did you notice anything- unusual?"

I smiled as I rested my head against his shoulder once more. I simply could not restrain my next remark- and he answered it by a peck on my lips.

"Apart from the butterflies then?"

I sent Professor Dumbledore a rare, impish smile at this line- yet then became serious again, sitting straight up.

"But I do know what you mean. I was- kissing you, and at the same time- just look at the clothes we were wearing."

I remembered the bizarre, almost-medieval suit Albus had been wearing for that split second. It had been made of a sort of very dark red fabric, which had felt like velvet under my fingers- and for some reason, I could still recall every detail, as if it had been etched into my mind during those short moments.

As I looked up at Albus and noticed the dreamy look in those wonderful, blue eyes of his, I knew he, too, remembered my clothing. The long, wide, black-and-white gown I had been wearing had felt familiar as well as unfamiliar to me- but was undoubtedly very pretty. Not the dress of a poor witch, at least- more of a- did I dare to think it?- of a queen.

I sighed at this realization. There would be long story to tell, I knew- and even more feelings to explain.

"Albus, I believe there is something I have to tell you."

I tried to explain everything as well as I could, giving many examples of how my dream constantly repeated itself, telling how I found out about Anne and how I did not exactly understood- or wanted to understand- what it meant- but I was somewhat surprised at the total lack of response of the man sitting next to me. He did not speak a word, and when his eyes got a rather absent expression in them, I raised my eyebrows in barely hidden irritation.

"If you are not interested, you can just say that, Albus, I won't kill you."

With this, Albus seemingly "awoke" from his thoughts, quick to assure me that he was not indifferent to what I was trying to tell him- quite the opposite indeed.

It was then, that he told me that he had felt the same thing for many years. He, too, had had dreams, visions, about a person different from himself for many years. He, too, had wondered many times about the who, what and where of his vision- but he, unlike me, had never found out who his mysterious counterpart was.

"Unlike in your dreams, it was a man, Minerva. He was tall and rather wiry, with thick auburn hair and kind blue eyes- but I never found out who he was. Such a coincidence that you actually found out it was Anne Boleyn- very amazing indeed, my dear."

It was amazing indeed, I suppose- and yet I barely heard those last words of his. I just stared at him, rather incredulously, for Albus, my Albus, had just told me something which was, if not the solution itself, still a very vital part of the solution- and I was amazed at my own, and his, blindness.

"Albus, I think- I think-"

I could barely voice my own thoughts. In fact, I did not want to, because I, calm and down-to-earth Scotswoman that I was, simply could not allow myself to believe in- in-

"Albus, I think we have been-"

He spoke the word before I could finish my sentence- and in the quiet, early near-darkness of that Saturday afternoon, two frightened people disbelievingly stared at each other.