Dell'Oscuro e dell'Amore

*. Lullaby .*

- Herentas Meridiæ-

*Nia, nia, nia

oles e mane exù pedìa

pedìa ce kiatere

telun' dota ciarma mene

Nana, nana, nana

dekatrìa na kami e mana

dekatrì massarie

ce to diome mian jana

Nedda, nedda, nedda

senza mai mu pai junnedda

mo léone e kristianì

tì senza mai mu pai junnì

Na, na, na

ce o pedìmmu mu petà

ce pai panu panu

ma'a puddhìa ta petenà

pai panu's tin anghéra

m'a puddhia tis primavera

It's hard to keep long notes. My child presses on my diaphragm and I'm unable to take enough breath. But it doesn't matter because he -or she- seems to have liked my lullaby: I can feel that little heart beat under my fingers. I can feel my child moving inside me as to show his -or her- love for me, the thankfulness for his -or her- upcoming birth. Lightly pointing my tiptoes on the grass, my rocking chair lulls me and I look at the sky of this late May day, so bright and beautiful, surrounded by my roses. I smile to my thoughts and hopes of motherhood.

Will I be able to raise a child? I'm only twenty-two and I don't have experience with children. I have my friend, she knows what to do, but what will I do when she won't be able to help me? These doubts bother me since I had found out that I was with child. I am a fool, am I not? Mammà says that I'm only anxious and that I just need to learn, exactly as in everything else.

I am sure about one thing: the life of my son -or daughter- will be different from mine. I have had the better bites of my father's table, I have been pampered and fondled by nurses and nannies and I have had the best of what gold could purchase. My child, instead, won't have all this: my husband's pay allows us to live in an honorable way with very little surplus. Yet my child will have something that I haven't had: two caring parents that will love him -or her- dearly. I love him -or her- already, I have loved him -or her- since the first instant, since the first time I felt him -or her- move in my womb. Since the first time I have shared a dream with him -or her.

And he -or she- will be great. I don't know if among my husband's people or mine, but my child will be great. I feel that my child will be very handsome -or beautiful, a perfect harmony between my husband and I. I hope my child has his eyes, they are of a green so rare and beautiful! And surely he -or she- will have my family's infamous birthmark, in the same place where mine is. I wonder what my husband will think when he will see it. Probably that I haven't had enough strawberry pastries. Everybody will fall in love with him -or she: my child will have my family's mysterious charm and my husband's quiet beauty. His impulsiveness and my rigor. His cleverness and my intuition. The calm and the passionate nature we share, my child will be perfection.

My child will attend my same school (there is no doubt about it) and will have an enviable career: model student, Prefect and in his -or her- last year Head Boy -or Girl. But I'll let him -or her- to chose his -or her- future and my husband and me will always be at his -or her- side with our love and our support. But whatever will be the chosen path, my child will be great. Who knows, perhaps he -or she- will be the next Minister of Magic or Hogwarts's Headmaster -or Headmistress. Or he -or she- will follow my famous ancestor's footsteps and become one of the most powerful wizards -or witches- of the century: a man -or a woman- to look at with admiration and take as example. Or he -or she- could simply follow my husband's footstep and become the best lawyer in England.

My child kicks, as if to tell me something: I kiss my fingertips and graze my womb, full of life and hopes, with a loving smile on my lips. My child will be born within a month or so, and that day I... I will tell everything to my husband. It wouldn't be fair to rise this creature in lie: my child have to grow up knowing to have a Muggle as father and a witch as mother. I feel something grips my heart, like an omen: what if Tom won't accept us for what we are? If he asks me, I would be ready to give up my magical nature to continue to have at my side the two people I love more than myself, my child and my husband. And what if, known the truth, he leaves me? What if his love wouldn't be enough? I would have to raise this child alone, with no one to help me... my child kicks again and I hear my stomach grumble.

"Someone is hungry: aren't we, mummy's darling?"

Leaning on my rocking chair's arms I get up and go in the kitchen for a little snack: my child moves, as if the promise of food cheers him -or her. I smile to myself as the water flows on my hands and onto the fruit: it doesn't matter what will happen and it doesn't matter what the future has in store for us, the life of my child will be full of love.

* traditional lullaby