Chapter Fourteen

We had agreed to spend our honeymoon at Albus's small cottage, somewhere on the borderline between Scotland and England. It was not exotic or expensive, but I was happy with it. Albus, though, did think it a bit of a pity he could not drag me along on a trip through muggle Europe. His strange fascination for muggles has always been one of the parts of about him that I love as well as mock- but most of all I loved it- just like everything else.

I loved our wedding- my white dress, the flowers in my hair, father's approving smile- and yet even more did I love the expression in the eyes of- yes, of my husband- as he gently placed that diamond ring on my finger.

I loved our great feast afterwards- the congratulations we got, the sincere smiles, I loved the soft, waltz music- and yet even more did I love the feeling of my- yes, my husband's- arms around me as we danced.

I loved our wedding, I loved our feast- but even more did I love our wedding night.

And here, I arrive at a difficult chapter in my storytelling. I am not a prude nor am I old-fashioned in the usual meaning of the word- as far as I know- and yet I cannot but find myself hesitating at making this, one of the happiest times of my life, public knowledge.

And yet somewhere deep down I know I have to write at least something of it down. It was all too crucial, too important, too, to just skip it due to the ridiculous prejudices of an old woman.

I stated that I would write my story down, didn't I? Yes, I did- and so I shall. I made a promise to myself, to myself and to him who means more to me than I myself do, and I shall keep it. Only as I write this all down do I realize how much I have needed this, and I won't stop until it is over or until I pass away before having reached the end.

So I will tell.

We made love that night, of course- I don't think I could possibly, despite all privacy issues and possible prudishness, deny that fact. Albus was, and is, my first and only lover. And I am not naïve and I know the world only too well, but deep down I know that it will stay that way. If he should die, I would not go on. If he should leave me behind, I would not smile and try to make the best of it- Gryffindor or not.

But anyway- so we did make love that night, and of course it was special to me, and of course it was pure bliss- but that is not what I wanted to narrate.

For on the very moment when we- Albus and me, husband and wife- were finally united and sharing our very own paradise like only true lovers can, something very strange occurred.

I don't remember much- but I do recall her face. I'd never seen it so clearly, so lively, as on that moment. It was- my face, of course, and yet in a way I knew it wasn't- and when she, Anne, for I knew it was her, parted her lips, I heard her voice for the very first time.

It was a like my voice, but softer, deeper- as if it was coming from a place far away, a place barely reachable. Of course it did- and that I realized the next second, as I felt a strange pressure on my heart when Anne started to speak.

"Minerva, I have a task for you."

I did not know where I was or what I was doing on that moment- but I do recall I nodded. Anne nodded too- and my own dark green eyes seemed to smile at me, as urgently she repeated

"I have a task for you- a very important task."

"Wh-what's it?"

"You know."

But I did not know. I watched the woman with her oval, pale face and long, black hair disappear again from my eyes- and powerlessly I could only stretch out my arms- but I could not get her back, no matter how hard I tried.

As, moments later, I found myself falling asleep in my husband's loving arms, I still did not know what Anne so desperately supposed me to know.