Keep Dry
Title: Keep Dry
Author: Devonwood
Format & Word Count: Fic; 1,608
Rating: PG, K+
Prompt: Prompt 1 (beach image), Prompt 2 (The Clash song)
Warning: Possible spelling errors (my spell-check is broken...-.-)
Summary: Drying spells, beaches, and storms, Oh My!
Author's Note: The minute I saw prompts one and two, I immediately had to put them together. And that’s how this little monster was born. :D Unbeta’ed, because I am lazy. Remus’s camping story was inspired by something that happened to my Mom once when she was on a backpacking trip, although it was a guy she didn’t know who told her what to do. It worked, but to this day she still doesn’t know if he was trying to help her warm up, or if he just wanted her to take off her shirt. XD
“...Bugger.”
The rolling grey clouds that loomed overhead had looked threatening for several hours now, but had not released their torrents of watery fury for the entire time Tonks had been on duty. And though she had clearly told Mad-Eye that no Death Eater was going to go to the beach on an overcast day, for evil Voldemort-plotting reasons or not, he still forced her to go on duty. So far she and Remus Lupin, her partner (in crime, she sometimes liked to think) had been spared from the rain.
Until now, when the first droplet of water hit her square in the nose, rolling down the bridge until it plopped onto the ground with a foreboding sound.
“Remus, d’you reckon we should find some cover?”
The man turned towards her, his grey-brown hair adorably covering the top of his eyebrows.
“Why? It’s not r- “
Another drop landed on a strand of his fringe, wetting the locks so that they stuck together. Remus grinned sheepishly as he flicked the water off of his hair.
And then the downpour started. It wasn’t just a slow crescendo into a storm. Rather, it looked as if someone had turned the Earth upside down so that all of the ocean water was dumped to drown the sky. The waves on the beach, which had been only mildly choppy seconds before, crashed into the shoreline with a vicious thundering crack. Or maybe it was actual thunder that made the crack; Tonks couldn’t tell.
Her pink hair was wet and stuck to her face at odd angles, the gel in the spikes running down the back of her neck and pooling soppily in the neckline of her shirt. Grimacing, she pulled her wand from her back pocket and pointed at the clouds, yelling a Muffliato spell. The sudden shift from howling winds to unnatural silence was nearly deafening, and Remus blinked first in confusion, then gratitude.
“I’m still wet, though.” He mentioned casually, his eyes twinkling with mirth.
“I’m sorry, there’s nothing I can do about that, you prat. I’m rubbish at drying and shielding spells.”
He sighed, closing his eyes. “So am I.”
Tonks looked around for any sort of cover. They were on a beach. And unless they wanted to dig a cave in a sand dune, or use that one half-plank of wood, then they were out of luck.
“Does this mean we’re just going to stay wet for another,” she checked the timepiece in her cloakpocket, “three hours?”
Remus cast a look at his wand, pursing his lips in concentration. “I might be able to attempt a drying shield, but it’ll barely be large enough for two people.”
Tonks felt a blush rise in her cheeks; this mission had sent goosebumps down her arm with just the thought of spending time alone with Grimmauld’s resident werewolf. How was she going to react in confined spaces? She sucked in a breath.
“That’s fine.” She said as nonchalantly as she could. “Any dry space is better than no dry space.”
Remus nodded and pulled out his wand, pointing somewhere above them in the sky. At once, Tonks felt the rain stop pounding against her head. And though it was called a “drying shield”, she noticed that she wasn’t much drier. The water had stopped cascading down her body, yes, but her clothes, hair, and skin were still soaked down to the bone. Plus, the sand stuck to her arse when she sat down, and it clumped uncerimoniously to the back of her clothes. Remus plopped down beside her, casting glances every so often out to the ocean to make sure that it wasn’t raising enough to reach them. The cramped space had them sitting nearly nose to nose, with Tonks’s knees curled up to her chest, and Remus leaning back so that she would have some airspace.
After a few moments of awkward silence between them, Tonks spoke up.
“Y’know...if Death Eaters really were around...they would have seen our spells, Dissillusioned or not.”
Remus frowned and his eyebrows darted together. “Yes...but Moody will tan us alive if we return early.”
Tonks sighed. “Even in this weather? This has got to be the worst weather Europe has seen this year! I’m soaked clear through, and we’ve still got over two hours left to go.”
Remus sat still for a moment, and Tonks just thought he was ignoring her.
“When I was younger,” he started so suddenly that Tonks jumped a little at the sound of his voice. “My dad used to take me on hikes in the woods. We’d go camping, stay overnight, things like that. One time, it rained...alot like today. We were stuck a mile from our campsite, and even though we ran all the way back, we were about as wet as we are right now. My father tought me a lot of things on these campouts, how to use a Muggle compass, how to read star charts, but the most important thing he tought me, he showed me that night. When you are wet and cold, it is better to take off as much clothing as you can, so the wet clothes do not continue to chill your body.”
Tonks just stared blankly at him. “So...you told me this heartwarming story of father-son bonding...just to tell me that I should take my clothes off?”
Remus looked strangely at her for the longest time, and then started laughing so loudly that Tonks thought anyone could have heard him, even through the ungodly weather. When he had finally calmed down, wiping his eyes so that he could see Tonks’s grin, he cleared his throat.
“That’s not what I meant.” He said, the remnants of a laugh still evident in his voice. “But it does hold truth.” Remus shucked his jumper off, revealing the soaking wet shirt underneath. Tonks didn’t know what color his shirt had been originally, but it looked black now as it clung tightly to his skin. She still gave him a raised eyebrow stare, yet she took off her cloak, deciding that she was still decently covered in just pants and a blouse. She slipped her “woman empowerment heels” off, stretching her toes to relieve the slight pain, and stuck the top of her feet down in the cool sand.
Remus gripped the edge of his shirt in his worn hands, and turned towards Tonks with such a look on his face that she knew something witty and boyishly handsome was about to come out of his mouth before he even said it.
“Will you still respect me in the morning?”
Even though she knew it was coming, Tonks erupted into a fit of giggles, a blush creeping up the back of her neck. She nodded, and he started to take off his shirt. Tonks refused to look at his chest as he did so, his handome, defined, slightly furred -damn, chest. The blush rising higher, she willed herself to look away, anywhere but his face. Her eyes focused down on the sand, watching her toes slide in and out of the soil.
The rest of the two hours went by in almost as much awkwardness as the first hour had, except now there was a reason, as the inhabitants of the shield were wearing remarkably less clothing than when they had started the expedition earlier that morning. When Tonks’s timepiece screeched that it was, in fact, time to go, both of them felt extremely relieved.
Apparating as quickly as they good, both of them landed on the street outside Grimmauld Place. It was then they noticed it was still raining; Remus because his chest suddenly felt very wet, and Tonks because she was standing barefoot in the river of water that flowed down the cobblestones. Leaping like a wet cat, she landed somewhat gracefully on the doorstep of the house, tottering a bit before Remus came to grip her elbow. With a nod, he opened the door, ushering Tonks in first like the gentleman he always was.
“I think...I’m going to get changed.” He mumbled sincerely as he sloshed up the stairs. Tonks nodded. “I’m going to get something to drink first, would you like me to put some tea on for you?”
“That would be lovely.” He replied, dissapearing from view as the door to the bedroom shut behind him.
Tonks walked into Grimmauld’s kitchen, no doubt leaving a trail of water behind her along the wood floor. If Sirius’s mother had been alive, she no doubt would have screeched until she died, and would probably have continued screaming anyways.
When Tonks swung the door open, it revealed Sirius in an unknown level of inebriation. He didn’t look too tipsy, although a half empty bottle of Firewhisky in the sink said otherwise.
“Greetings, cousin!” he boomed, taking another swig from his mug.
“Wotcher.” Tonks replied, sitting down across from him, making a squelching sound as she connected with the seat. He took in her drowned appearance, and an evil grin spread across his face.
“So? What’s the weather like?”
“Prat.” She mumbled, ringing out a lock of her hair between her fingers. “It started like this about three hours ago.”
Sirius looked her over, before grinning toothily like a canine. “Well, it’s a good thing Remus was there.”
Tonks looked at him cryptically. “Why’s that?” She was wet, confused, and Sirius had probably drinken straight out of the Firewhiskey bottle at some point, so she couldn't even warm herself up with a drink. Remus had his Earl Grey tea; she preffered something more alcoholic and numbing.
“Well he’s handy to have around when it’s raining.”
More cryptic looks.
“Why, he didn’t tell you?” Sirius looked generally amazed, before he washed down the rest of his mug, and then the look was replaced by slightly drunken stupor.
“Remus was the best at drying and shielding charms in our year! He once kept the entire Gryffindor side of the Quidditch Pitch dry for an entire game by himself….”