In a cave at the base of a cliff, with the roaring of the sea echoing all around them, the Seer of Islay reflected that in his long lifetime he had performed many marriages. Before him had stood strong couples who were destined to be together, couples whose love for each other was all but tangible and couples who appeared to be madly in love – but whose marriage, he knew, was doomed from the outset. But never, in any of those years had he presided over a wedding quite so, unusual as this one. For once it seemed his inner eye, his ability to see the future of the couple before him had deserted him.
He had been delighted to learn that the strongest wizard of the age was to be married again – and this time to a witch from an ancient and noble family. As she stood before him, in a regrettably sombre set of robes, he knew that Minerva McGonagall was a witch of great ability. He also knew that, although she did not believe it, she was every inch as beautiful as her mother and grandmother had been.
He watched them carefully – at first sight the happy couple were both calm and resolute. But, close up she was pale and stiff and the famous Dumbledore twinkle was missing from his eyes. Clearly the setting and the beginning of the ceremony had focussed their minds on the seriousness of the undertaking they were embarking on.
He could feel their affection for one another, the closeness and trust that pervaded their relationship. But, beyond that there were barriers – as though neither of them had completely given their heart to this union. And that gave him cause for concern.
He started the incantation - speaking the ancient words in this most ancient of places. The waves crashed around them, the cave booming with sound and with shadows. The air was alive with powerful magic – more palpable than he had expected. At the climax of the ceremony the newly married couple tapped the tips of their wands together and at the moment of contact, a startlingly bright flash of light engulfed them all.
The seer hadn't ever witnessed anything quite like it, and he was relived that his sight hadn't deserted him after all. In the centre of that flash of light he saw their path, saw the twists and turns – only the destination eluded him. One way or another, he was absolutely certain that they would be back.
They apparated to Hogsmeade and began the walk back to the school in silence. Dumbledore couldn't help thinking that they were both a little dazed from the ceremony; from the wedding he reminded himself. Glancing to his right he looked at the woman walking beside him, her hands shoved into the pockets of her robes, her gaze focused firmly ahead of her. She had suddenly become that most indefinable of things - his wife.
His mind flitted back to the moment in the cave, to the light that had been so entirely unexpected that no one had mentioned it since. But, he couldn't just ignore what had happened, couldn't and wouldn't. He opened his mouth to speak and was disconcerted to find Minerva's gaze resting on him.
"Just checking I still recognise you," she said with a flash of the dry humour that so few people got to witness. "Everything seems – different. I wasn't expecting that."
"Are you sorry? Because we can go back to the island and…"
"Albus," she stopped walking and laid her hand on his arm, "I'm not sorry, it just feels – strange. It will take more getting used to than I'd anticipated. I'm not accustomed to having a husband. And," she frowned, the humour vanishing, "what happened at the ceremony threw me a little."
"It threw me as well, but perhaps we shouldn't have been surprised. It's a very old incantation, the magic is strong, and obviously it magnified our powers."
"Your power," she corrected him gently, but he shook his head.
"Our powers – the wands touched after all. Obviously I should have chosen a different ceremony. I never intended to make you uncomfortable."
"I know," she smiled, just a little and put her arm through the crook of his. "It certainly made for a memorable wedding." He was relieved that he'd managed to put her concerns to rest and felt only slightly guilty that he hadn't shared the details of the brief conversation he'd had with the seer. It was ridiculous anyway – it was a marriage of convenience, nothing more.
"Tomorrow we have to face Armando," he said, changing the subject, "will we convince him do you think?"
"Of course we will!" He had to laugh at that, amused at her indignant tone and the idea that she was viewing this as one more challenge for her formidable mind to overcome.
She looked annoyed for a split second – but then a remarkable thing happened, her mouth curved into a broad smile and she released all of the day's tension in a glorious peel of laughter. It didn't happen very often and it transformed her. Joy bubbled through him at the realisation that he had made his dear friend relax this much and he pulled her into an impulsive hug, spinning her round with boyish enthusiasm before setting her back down and stepping away.
"Albus!" She brushed herself down and almost succeeded in looking cross.
"Just getting into character my dear." He smiled winningly at her and she muttered something he couldn't quite hear but which definitely included the word "impossible."
Looping her arm through his once more they began to walk back to the castle. "How about supper and a game of chess later? One last chance to get our stories straight?"
"That's a good idea – with your tendency to extemporise we could certainly use the practice." He was pleased to see a smile still lurking around her lips; this would be so much easier if they didn't lose their sense of humour.
"Of course, it won't be the most traditional of wedding nights." He looked at her over the top of his spectacles and the glare she shot him would have quelled a lesser wizard.
"You're enjoying this!" She hissed – something he had no intention of denying. But, he should have known she wouldn't let him win. "If you're interested in non-traditional events I suggest you concentrate your efforts on trying to beat me at chess."
"It's tactics," he sniffed – his losing streak was something he preferred not to be reminded of. "I'm merely luring you into a false sense of security before I pounce."
Too late he realised that his remark could have an entirely different connotation, and when he felt her stiffen he knew that she had realised it too. He shivered, though the afternoon was warm but it was she who rescued the moment.
"Of course you are my dear." She patted him on the hand and the subject was dropped. Again he reminded himself that this was just a way around the Governors demands. She was his friend, he was grateful to her; there was nothing more to it than that.
TBC