FIC: The Many-Colored Holiday
Title: The Many-colored Holiday
Author: roh_wyn
Rating & Warnings: PG, slightly angsty fluff
Word prompt: Everlasting Icicles
Quote prompt: Angels rush in where fools fear to tread (from The Bishop's Wife)
Word Count: 1107
Summary: Remus buys Tonks an interesting present for their first Christmas together, and this has consequences later.
Author’s Notes: I had absolutely no inspiration to write anything for this challenge, right up until I realized I only had four hours to go before I turned into a pumpkin! :) This is not by any means my favorite piece of writing, but it may actually be my quickest. Also, it has to win some sort of prize for least imaginative use of the prompts! :)
He walked gently, not wanting to disturb any of the freshly fallen snow, wanting to leave it as pristine and untouched as possible. In some ways, the snow reminded Remus of an empty piece of parchment, full of promise and heavy with tales as yet untold. But where he would itch to cover the parchment in ink, he had no desire to mar the snow. Its blankness seemed to bring the scars and troubles of his life into sharp relief, and for a moment, he allowed himself to wallow in self-pity.
But then he shook his head, chiding himself for being so maudlin. And at Christmas too! If anything, it was only practical consideration that slowed his pace. After all, his boots had hardly any tread on them, and walking too quickly through the streets of Diagon Alley would surely lead to embarrassment and possibly a stint at St. Mungo’s.
The shops had all been decorated for Christmas, and Remus felt something almost like the wonder and amazement he had felt as a child, when his parents would bring him here on their annual winter trip to London. That was before he had been bitten, long before his parents had stopped seeing their son as anything but a Dark Creature. It was a time when fairy lights and Everlasting Icicles still held a magic of their own, and for just a moment, Remus became the little boy gawking at shop windows.
It was in such moment of boyish wonder that he spotted it: the perfect Christmas present for Tonks. It was a quill, and a seemingly ordinary one at that. But it had been charmed to write in many different colors, and as it wandered across a never-ending piece of parchment, scrawling out “Happy Christmas and Good Luck in the New Year” in all the colors of the rainbow, Remus was sharply reminded of Tonks. If ever there was a gift that matched her personality, mutable and yet somehow permanent, it was this quill.
He shifted his feet, and felt around in his pockets for his wallet. It was disappointingly light, and he suspected he could not quite afford so extravagant a gift. Nevertheless, it would be a shame to let it go. Thinking that perhaps he could use his charms, or at the very least his penury, to persuade the shop’s owner into some sort of creative payment arrangement, Remus dusted the snow off his jacket and walked into the shop.
--
A year later
She shuffled slowly, not caring that her footsteps were clumsy and leaving marks all over the freshly fallen snow. It had been a terrible Christmas so far, although it was not as if she had expected much else. It had been months since she had been able to morph properly, and her mother had lost no time in reminding her how slovenly she looked. If there had been any surprises that Christmas with her parents, it was only that Tonks found she did not care at all what they thought. There were far more important things going on in her life and in her mind.
Or rather, there should have been far more important things going on in her life. But all she could think about was Remus, and how difficult it had been to pass Christmas knowing he was not there, that he wanted no part of her.
When Molly Weasley had asked her to stay at The Burrow, she had been terribly tempted. It would have been good to see him again, even if only for a little while. Then again, it would have been terrible to see him again, and even a little while would have been too long. He probably would have shunned her, or if he spoke to her, it would only have been because he was unfailingly polite to everyone. She would not have handled it well, and they would have been right back where they were before. She was brave and she was an Auror, but that business about angels rushing in where even fools fear to tread was all...
She stopped and shook her head. That was not even the right expression, she thought, as she pulled her cloak closed, trying to warm herself against the cold both outside and inside. The snow was still falling as she made her way back to her rooms in Hogsmeade. She sighed and thought sadly that it was perfect weather for a romantic Christmas night. But she would have to content herself this Christmas with curling up with a mug of cocoa in her room and hoping to fall asleep eventually.
She turned the key in her door, musing idly on how odd it was that an inn frequented by wizards would use something as unmagical as locks and keys for the doors. As she walked in, a gust of air from the open door blew a few papers off her desk. She sighed again, and on impulse, tossed them into the fire without looking at them. She knew what they were…letters she had written to Remus, one for every day she had been at Hogsmeade and he had been Merlin-knew-where. Sometimes, when she was in a particular sort of mood, she liked to read them and pretend that she was actually speaking the words to Remus. But she was in no mood for all that. It was Christmas and she was determined not to spend it all thinking about him. She would simply sleep through the holiday instead, she thought, as she crawled into bed.
That was when she saw them, the dusty and worn pair of boots warming themselves by the fire. She looked up, alarmed.
“Hello, Nymphadora.”
--
A week later
Mad-eye Moody was proud of himself. While everyone else had spent the holidays carousing and eating and generally wasting their time, he had spent them wisely, doing paper work. He had made his way through almost an entire stack of Auror reports, and there was only one left waiting for his signature.
With a triumphant flourish, he reached for the last manila envelope on his desk. It was from Auror Tonks who was filing her reports from Hogsmeade these days. He pulled the thick folded sheets of parchment out of the envelope and opened them, only to almost fall out of his chair in surprise.
Tonks’s report was unremarkable, or would have been, if she had not written it in every color of ink known to the wizarding world. Mad-eye bristled and slammed his fist hard on the table. That girl was going to need a lesson or two in proper procedure!
Author: roh_wyn
Rating & Warnings: PG, slightly angsty fluff
Word prompt: Everlasting Icicles
Quote prompt: Angels rush in where fools fear to tread (from The Bishop's Wife)
Word Count: 1107
Summary: Remus buys Tonks an interesting present for their first Christmas together, and this has consequences later.
Author’s Notes: I had absolutely no inspiration to write anything for this challenge, right up until I realized I only had four hours to go before I turned into a pumpkin! :) This is not by any means my favorite piece of writing, but it may actually be my quickest. Also, it has to win some sort of prize for least imaginative use of the prompts! :)
He walked gently, not wanting to disturb any of the freshly fallen snow, wanting to leave it as pristine and untouched as possible. In some ways, the snow reminded Remus of an empty piece of parchment, full of promise and heavy with tales as yet untold. But where he would itch to cover the parchment in ink, he had no desire to mar the snow. Its blankness seemed to bring the scars and troubles of his life into sharp relief, and for a moment, he allowed himself to wallow in self-pity.
But then he shook his head, chiding himself for being so maudlin. And at Christmas too! If anything, it was only practical consideration that slowed his pace. After all, his boots had hardly any tread on them, and walking too quickly through the streets of Diagon Alley would surely lead to embarrassment and possibly a stint at St. Mungo’s.
The shops had all been decorated for Christmas, and Remus felt something almost like the wonder and amazement he had felt as a child, when his parents would bring him here on their annual winter trip to London. That was before he had been bitten, long before his parents had stopped seeing their son as anything but a Dark Creature. It was a time when fairy lights and Everlasting Icicles still held a magic of their own, and for just a moment, Remus became the little boy gawking at shop windows.
It was in such moment of boyish wonder that he spotted it: the perfect Christmas present for Tonks. It was a quill, and a seemingly ordinary one at that. But it had been charmed to write in many different colors, and as it wandered across a never-ending piece of parchment, scrawling out “Happy Christmas and Good Luck in the New Year” in all the colors of the rainbow, Remus was sharply reminded of Tonks. If ever there was a gift that matched her personality, mutable and yet somehow permanent, it was this quill.
He shifted his feet, and felt around in his pockets for his wallet. It was disappointingly light, and he suspected he could not quite afford so extravagant a gift. Nevertheless, it would be a shame to let it go. Thinking that perhaps he could use his charms, or at the very least his penury, to persuade the shop’s owner into some sort of creative payment arrangement, Remus dusted the snow off his jacket and walked into the shop.
--
A year later
She shuffled slowly, not caring that her footsteps were clumsy and leaving marks all over the freshly fallen snow. It had been a terrible Christmas so far, although it was not as if she had expected much else. It had been months since she had been able to morph properly, and her mother had lost no time in reminding her how slovenly she looked. If there had been any surprises that Christmas with her parents, it was only that Tonks found she did not care at all what they thought. There were far more important things going on in her life and in her mind.
Or rather, there should have been far more important things going on in her life. But all she could think about was Remus, and how difficult it had been to pass Christmas knowing he was not there, that he wanted no part of her.
When Molly Weasley had asked her to stay at The Burrow, she had been terribly tempted. It would have been good to see him again, even if only for a little while. Then again, it would have been terrible to see him again, and even a little while would have been too long. He probably would have shunned her, or if he spoke to her, it would only have been because he was unfailingly polite to everyone. She would not have handled it well, and they would have been right back where they were before. She was brave and she was an Auror, but that business about angels rushing in where even fools fear to tread was all...
She stopped and shook her head. That was not even the right expression, she thought, as she pulled her cloak closed, trying to warm herself against the cold both outside and inside. The snow was still falling as she made her way back to her rooms in Hogsmeade. She sighed and thought sadly that it was perfect weather for a romantic Christmas night. But she would have to content herself this Christmas with curling up with a mug of cocoa in her room and hoping to fall asleep eventually.
She turned the key in her door, musing idly on how odd it was that an inn frequented by wizards would use something as unmagical as locks and keys for the doors. As she walked in, a gust of air from the open door blew a few papers off her desk. She sighed again, and on impulse, tossed them into the fire without looking at them. She knew what they were…letters she had written to Remus, one for every day she had been at Hogsmeade and he had been Merlin-knew-where. Sometimes, when she was in a particular sort of mood, she liked to read them and pretend that she was actually speaking the words to Remus. But she was in no mood for all that. It was Christmas and she was determined not to spend it all thinking about him. She would simply sleep through the holiday instead, she thought, as she crawled into bed.
That was when she saw them, the dusty and worn pair of boots warming themselves by the fire. She looked up, alarmed.
“Hello, Nymphadora.”
--
A week later
Mad-eye Moody was proud of himself. While everyone else had spent the holidays carousing and eating and generally wasting their time, he had spent them wisely, doing paper work. He had made his way through almost an entire stack of Auror reports, and there was only one left waiting for his signature.
With a triumphant flourish, he reached for the last manila envelope on his desk. It was from Auror Tonks who was filing her reports from Hogsmeade these days. He pulled the thick folded sheets of parchment out of the envelope and opened them, only to almost fall out of his chair in surprise.
Tonks’s report was unremarkable, or would have been, if she had not written it in every color of ink known to the wizarding world. Mad-eye bristled and slammed his fist hard on the table. That girl was going to need a lesson or two in proper procedure!