Prompt #10
Title: To Drive the Cold Winter Away
Author: MrsTater
Format & Word Count: ficlet, 920
Rating: PG
Prompt: #10, match
Summary: "D'you know why I don't like magical fire, Remus?"
To Drive the Cold Winter Away
They'd come out back of number twelve, Grimmauld Place to watch the snow fall and Padfoot romp in it, but now the snow had stopped and Sirius had gone inside to warm up with a bath. Sitting beside Tonks on the porch steps, Remus stared at the patches where paws and a wagging tail had uncovered the grass.
Shivering, Tonks tucked her hands under her arms and hunched. "Are you cold?"
"Not terribly."
"Your breath's making clouds."
"That doesn't mean I am cold. It means the air-"
"-is cold. I know, Remus."
"I know you know." He turned to her, and a smile lit his face. "Your cheeks are rosy."
Tonks supposed that when he'd first looked, her cheeks had been rosy from the cold. Now she was blushing. She felt pretty, but wasn't sure if he'd meant it as a compliment, or simply an amused observation. "I reckon my lips might be a bit blue."
"You're cold, then? That's not a Metamorphose?"
"Why would I morph my lips blue?"
Remus shrugged. "You morph your hair blue."
Tonks reached a hand into his overcoat and delved into the deep inner pocket. She expected him to bristle with surprise, but instead she was the one caught unawares when he said calmly, "If you are looking for my money bag it is not worth your time. I believe I've a button and a bit of thread in it, from when one fell off my coat last week. But not a knut."
Tonks drew out his wand and waggled it in front of his face. "Conjure me a blanket, you prat."
Remus quirked an eyebrow. "I thought please was the magic word."
"Not for conjuring. Come on, get on with it."
Remus raised a hand as though to take his wand from her, but instead removed one of his gloves and tucked it into his pocket. His palm was cupped toward himself as he murmured over it. Blue eyes flicked up at Tonks and held. He moved his hand slightly toward her, and his fingers slowly uncurled.
"Oh." Tonks swallowed; her own hands still clutching his wand fell into her lap. "The old wandless flame in your hand trick."
She gave her head a slight toss to compensate for how breathy and shaky her voice had come out. It was ridiculously hard not to look or sound impressed when he looked like that.
The flame in Remus' hand made light dance with shadows across his face, one moment illuminating the fine lines at the corners of his eyes and mouth, then shifting so that years melted away to reveal the cocky teenaged boy who'd crafted the Marauder's Map. Silver strands in his hair looked golden in the glow, the fringe falling across his forehead decidedly boyish. The fire flickered in his eyes, but his gaze was steady, drawing her in. Tonks had a sensation that he'd cast a wandless stunner, stilling her heart, stifling her lungs.
She blinked. And exhaled.
"D'you know why I don't like magical fire, Remus?"
Her pride at having regained composure was diluted by Remus' face showing no sign - nor should she have expected it to - of his being nonplussed. As it was, Tonks again battled her erratic heartbeat as Remus shifted nearer to her, neither gaze nor flame wavering.
He asked huskily, "Why?"
"It…it doesn't smell like matches."
"Matches."
"Y'know the smell, when you snuff them out."
Without extinguishing the flame, Remus raised his other hand. Thumb and forefinger rubbed together, then held a conjured match between them.
"I'd be more impressed," said Tonks, "if you'd conjured a lit match."
Remus swiped it across the brick porch, and the minute fire hissed and crackled to life. Tonks leant toward Remus and puffed it out. Smoke swirled upward, mingling with their steamy breath. She hardly noticed the thick smoky scent tickling her nostrils. Her mouth was inches from Remus'.
"Now you've got your warmth," said Remus in low tones, "and your non-magical fire smell."
The crisp winter air crackled with expectation.
The only voice Tonks could produce was barely above a whisper. "But I asked for a blanket."
Remus matched her tone and leant closer, gently taking his wand back from her. "You didn't say please."
Abruptly, Tonks sat back and folded her arms. "I don't think please would've got me a blanket. You like showing off too much."
Somehow Remus managed to give a smile that was at once smirking and self-conscious as he slipped his wand inside his coat. "How else am I to attract a brilliant Auror who can turn her hair blue?"
"What else can you do?"
"Well…" The tip of his tongue darted out to moisten his lips. "I believe I can produce quite pleasant sensations with my lips."
Tonks' eyes dropped to his mouth, velvet and inviting in the firelight. "But can you conjure a blanket?"
His gloved hand moved to cup her cheek. "Why do you want a blanket?"
"I'm cold. And you can't snog me with fire in your hand."
"Ah." He gestured vaguely toward the snow-dusted garden. "Are you sure you wouldn't prefer a romp of our own in the snow?"
"Does that mean we get to go in and warm up the way Sirius did?"
Remus' smile was Marauderish.
"Then yes. Please."
Author: MrsTater
Format & Word Count: ficlet, 920
Rating: PG
Prompt: #10, match
Summary: "D'you know why I don't like magical fire, Remus?"
To Drive the Cold Winter Away
They'd come out back of number twelve, Grimmauld Place to watch the snow fall and Padfoot romp in it, but now the snow had stopped and Sirius had gone inside to warm up with a bath. Sitting beside Tonks on the porch steps, Remus stared at the patches where paws and a wagging tail had uncovered the grass.
Shivering, Tonks tucked her hands under her arms and hunched. "Are you cold?"
"Not terribly."
"Your breath's making clouds."
"That doesn't mean I am cold. It means the air-"
"-is cold. I know, Remus."
"I know you know." He turned to her, and a smile lit his face. "Your cheeks are rosy."
Tonks supposed that when he'd first looked, her cheeks had been rosy from the cold. Now she was blushing. She felt pretty, but wasn't sure if he'd meant it as a compliment, or simply an amused observation. "I reckon my lips might be a bit blue."
"You're cold, then? That's not a Metamorphose?"
"Why would I morph my lips blue?"
Remus shrugged. "You morph your hair blue."
Tonks reached a hand into his overcoat and delved into the deep inner pocket. She expected him to bristle with surprise, but instead she was the one caught unawares when he said calmly, "If you are looking for my money bag it is not worth your time. I believe I've a button and a bit of thread in it, from when one fell off my coat last week. But not a knut."
Tonks drew out his wand and waggled it in front of his face. "Conjure me a blanket, you prat."
Remus quirked an eyebrow. "I thought please was the magic word."
"Not for conjuring. Come on, get on with it."
Remus raised a hand as though to take his wand from her, but instead removed one of his gloves and tucked it into his pocket. His palm was cupped toward himself as he murmured over it. Blue eyes flicked up at Tonks and held. He moved his hand slightly toward her, and his fingers slowly uncurled.
"Oh." Tonks swallowed; her own hands still clutching his wand fell into her lap. "The old wandless flame in your hand trick."
She gave her head a slight toss to compensate for how breathy and shaky her voice had come out. It was ridiculously hard not to look or sound impressed when he looked like that.
The flame in Remus' hand made light dance with shadows across his face, one moment illuminating the fine lines at the corners of his eyes and mouth, then shifting so that years melted away to reveal the cocky teenaged boy who'd crafted the Marauder's Map. Silver strands in his hair looked golden in the glow, the fringe falling across his forehead decidedly boyish. The fire flickered in his eyes, but his gaze was steady, drawing her in. Tonks had a sensation that he'd cast a wandless stunner, stilling her heart, stifling her lungs.
She blinked. And exhaled.
"D'you know why I don't like magical fire, Remus?"
Her pride at having regained composure was diluted by Remus' face showing no sign - nor should she have expected it to - of his being nonplussed. As it was, Tonks again battled her erratic heartbeat as Remus shifted nearer to her, neither gaze nor flame wavering.
He asked huskily, "Why?"
"It…it doesn't smell like matches."
"Matches."
"Y'know the smell, when you snuff them out."
Without extinguishing the flame, Remus raised his other hand. Thumb and forefinger rubbed together, then held a conjured match between them.
"I'd be more impressed," said Tonks, "if you'd conjured a lit match."
Remus swiped it across the brick porch, and the minute fire hissed and crackled to life. Tonks leant toward Remus and puffed it out. Smoke swirled upward, mingling with their steamy breath. She hardly noticed the thick smoky scent tickling her nostrils. Her mouth was inches from Remus'.
"Now you've got your warmth," said Remus in low tones, "and your non-magical fire smell."
The crisp winter air crackled with expectation.
The only voice Tonks could produce was barely above a whisper. "But I asked for a blanket."
Remus matched her tone and leant closer, gently taking his wand back from her. "You didn't say please."
Abruptly, Tonks sat back and folded her arms. "I don't think please would've got me a blanket. You like showing off too much."
Somehow Remus managed to give a smile that was at once smirking and self-conscious as he slipped his wand inside his coat. "How else am I to attract a brilliant Auror who can turn her hair blue?"
"What else can you do?"
"Well…" The tip of his tongue darted out to moisten his lips. "I believe I can produce quite pleasant sensations with my lips."
Tonks' eyes dropped to his mouth, velvet and inviting in the firelight. "But can you conjure a blanket?"
His gloved hand moved to cup her cheek. "Why do you want a blanket?"
"I'm cold. And you can't snog me with fire in your hand."
"Ah." He gestured vaguely toward the snow-dusted garden. "Are you sure you wouldn't prefer a romp of our own in the snow?"
"Does that mean we get to go in and warm up the way Sirius did?"
Remus' smile was Marauderish.
"Then yes. Please."