Chapter 1 : Beginnings, 1881
| ||Rating: Mature||Chapter Reviews: 8|
Background: Font color:
A/N: So I am not J.K Rowling, she owns it and you all know it. This is a story about Dumbledore, and I will write the year at the start of each chapter as it will go back and forth quite a bit. It is essentially a love story, so there will be slash in it. It will also show bits when he is a headmaster at Hogwarts- with Harry and when he taught the Maruaders. So, it is basically any era. Thanks for reading, and please, please review! (edited 8/3/12)
Kendra Dumbledore sighed heavily and lay back on the pillows. Percival had just left for a moment and finally she was alone with her son.
She had done it. Given birth.
Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore.
It was a hell of a name, with middle names after his father, his maternal and paternal grandfathers. Just in case she didn’t get the chance to honour all of them in name and memory.
Because she did not want to go through that again.
Perhaps it was worth it though. Kendra looked down at the baby in her arms and frowned. People always said that the gift of a child was worth a hundred times the pain you went through to bring it there. Kendra wasn’t sure, and she didn’t really think it was possible to go through one hundred times that pain. She also wasn’t sure if it was worth it.
When she had got through labour and Albus was born, the first thing that Percival had done was smile proudly at both of them and comment on how amazing it was.
“He’s perfect, Kendra. Really, he is beautiful. Good job darling, I am so proud.” He had said, smiling weakly and rubbing her back. “Just…perfect.”
Kendra, however, wasn’t so sure. Oh yes, it was a miracle really that a living being could come out of her- and managed to fit through as well.
She paused. The concept of giving life was actually strange and slightly sickening.
Because when you think about it, your life begins at one of two points. When you exit your father, or exit your mother. It just depends on what view you have about it. Whether you think your beginning was when your mother gave birth or when your father stuck his…
Not that it mattered. She had given birth and Albus was definitely alive.
Alive, yes… but beautiful or perfect? Kendra glanced at him and frowned.
He was not beautiful. She just couldn’t see it. She was proud, she had a son, he had no deformities and he seemed normal. In other words she had done a good job. Beautiful wasn’t part of it; new born babies aren’t beautiful or perfect. They are red, squishy and look something like mushrooms.
Kendra felt horrible. She didn’t think her baby was beautiful and no matter how she looked at him, she couldn’t convince herself that he was. Her husband had been overwhelmed by it all and rushed out as quickly as he could find an excuse. She knew that he loved her and their child, but he couldn’t handle the thought of being responsible for a living child.
Percival had left and now she was alone, looking at her baby and trying to gather up the courage to love it.
Yes, it took courage. Because Kendra was scared.
Albus was a person, and he was also completely dependent.
Dependant on her. Kendra shivered suddenly and a wave of feeling rushed over her. She felt so weak, so tired and scared.
Then, Albus began to cry. She looked down at him in shock. His eyes were screwed tight and his face squished up like a rotten tomato.
He was really loud.
Kendra looked around the room in panic then back at her baby. Her baby. She rocked him awkwardly and tried to shush him.
“Albus.” She whispered “Shhh. Don’t cry.” He kept going, louder and louder. He sounded so pathetic.
Oh shit. What if he was hungry?
Kendra sighed. She was exhausted and really confused. What was she meant to do to make him shut up?
“Shhh. Albus, my son.” She said to him “Oh, be quiet! Please? Someone will come in and think I can’t even control my baby.” His cries became softer. “That’s it. Good.” She smiled. “Now go to sleep again, come on…” She began rocking him gently until his sobs stopped completely and he was quiet.
Wait. He was quiet.
He actually stopped crying!
Kendra grinned in amazement and looked down at her baby. His eyes flickered open. Bright, light, piercing blue. He seemed to see into her, to understand, his eyes had this knowledge in them…
Woah, maybe labour really did mess with your brain, or at least your ability to judge your own child properly.
Albus gazed up at his mother and she let him grab her finger with his little hand. He almost seemed to be begging her to stay with him.
A tear rolled down Kendra’s cheek.
“It’s alright, Albus, I am here for you. I will always be here for you.”
Yep, definitely messed up in the head.
Other Similar Stories