FIC: Lullaby
Title: Lullaby
Word Count: 500
Pairings: Remus/Tonks
Rating: G
Prompt: Star
Author’s Notes: For the lovely eril_87’s birthday, which was last month, omg I’m slow. Love you dear, hope you enjoy it! :D
Her birthday arrived at the height of the Perseids, and Ted had thrown her a party like only he could; their estate was crawling with friends, all manner of food, sweets, and abandoned drinks littered the kitchen, and the lawn was dotted with groups on blankets and in conjured chairs, all looking up at the sky. Music floated through the doors of her house and out into the night air, her favourite Muggle songs, warm and sweet on the breeze. Paper lanterns hung in the trees around the property, glowing dimly in tones of rose and silver.
Andromeda slipped off her shoes and left the warmth of the fire pit on the terrace, stepping carefully through the oaks, searching for the only other people at the party who weren’t in the mood to celebrate.
Neither Nymphadora nor Remus had been in the house when she checked, they were not on the lawn with the other partygoers - she found them sprawled comfortably on a wooly blanket nicked from inside, underneath a spreading tree and just out of reach of the light falling from the open window. An empty bottle of champagne glinted dully, laying forgotten in the clover.
They might have been asleep but for the whisper of a voice half-singing with the songs, a lullaby slowed with alcohol; “I once had a girl, or should I say, she once had me,” and “are you going to Scarborough fair?” The melodies floated away on the breeze but the lyrics seemed to linger like smoke.
Dora was indeed asleep, tucked into the crook of his shoulder, her hair falling across her face, her fingers curled into the collar of his shirt. Andromeda hadn’t believed a word of her daughter’s ‘just friends’ pretext since they arrived; either it was a lie, or the two had not yet realized they were lying.
It was only natural, after what had happened at the Ministry, after what happened to Sirius, just over a month ago now. Tragedy always brought people closer. She supposed she should worry for her girl (her only girl, her only child), she knew Remus’s story, after all, but it seemed so ridiculous. Werewolves weren’t supposed to wear corduroy jackets and teach schoolchildren about hinkypunks, they don’t talk motorbikes with Muggleborns.
Andromeda had the sudden, irrational urge to laugh - werewolves certainly don’t get smashed on champagne and sing Simon and Garfunkel.
But he wasn’t a werewolf, not in the same way as Fenrir Greyback or the like. Remus was just unfortunate, and she remembered how it felt to be lumped in with her blood-mad sisters without a second thought.
“…dear lady, can you hear the wind blow, and did you know-”
He stopped singing abruptly, pulled the girl closer, tucking her hair behind her ear. He planted a kiss on her forehead and she sighed, laughed, and fell asleep again instantly.
Andromeda stayed a moment longer, watching the sky through the whispering leaves above, wondering why falling stars always seemed to burn brightest.
Word Count: 500
Pairings: Remus/Tonks
Rating: G
Prompt: Star
Author’s Notes: For the lovely eril_87’s birthday, which was last month, omg I’m slow. Love you dear, hope you enjoy it! :D
Her birthday arrived at the height of the Perseids, and Ted had thrown her a party like only he could; their estate was crawling with friends, all manner of food, sweets, and abandoned drinks littered the kitchen, and the lawn was dotted with groups on blankets and in conjured chairs, all looking up at the sky. Music floated through the doors of her house and out into the night air, her favourite Muggle songs, warm and sweet on the breeze. Paper lanterns hung in the trees around the property, glowing dimly in tones of rose and silver.
Andromeda slipped off her shoes and left the warmth of the fire pit on the terrace, stepping carefully through the oaks, searching for the only other people at the party who weren’t in the mood to celebrate.
Neither Nymphadora nor Remus had been in the house when she checked, they were not on the lawn with the other partygoers - she found them sprawled comfortably on a wooly blanket nicked from inside, underneath a spreading tree and just out of reach of the light falling from the open window. An empty bottle of champagne glinted dully, laying forgotten in the clover.
They might have been asleep but for the whisper of a voice half-singing with the songs, a lullaby slowed with alcohol; “I once had a girl, or should I say, she once had me,” and “are you going to Scarborough fair?” The melodies floated away on the breeze but the lyrics seemed to linger like smoke.
Dora was indeed asleep, tucked into the crook of his shoulder, her hair falling across her face, her fingers curled into the collar of his shirt. Andromeda hadn’t believed a word of her daughter’s ‘just friends’ pretext since they arrived; either it was a lie, or the two had not yet realized they were lying.
It was only natural, after what had happened at the Ministry, after what happened to Sirius, just over a month ago now. Tragedy always brought people closer. She supposed she should worry for her girl (her only girl, her only child), she knew Remus’s story, after all, but it seemed so ridiculous. Werewolves weren’t supposed to wear corduroy jackets and teach schoolchildren about hinkypunks, they don’t talk motorbikes with Muggleborns.
Andromeda had the sudden, irrational urge to laugh - werewolves certainly don’t get smashed on champagne and sing Simon and Garfunkel.
But he wasn’t a werewolf, not in the same way as Fenrir Greyback or the like. Remus was just unfortunate, and she remembered how it felt to be lumped in with her blood-mad sisters without a second thought.
“…dear lady, can you hear the wind blow, and did you know-”
He stopped singing abruptly, pulled the girl closer, tucking her hair behind her ear. He planted a kiss on her forehead and she sighed, laughed, and fell asleep again instantly.
Andromeda stayed a moment longer, watching the sky through the whispering leaves above, wondering why falling stars always seemed to burn brightest.