Fic: Spring rain
Title: Spring rain
Author: pinkhairedauror
Format & Word Count: Ficlet, 664 words
Rating: PG
Prompt: 31:
April is the cruellest month, breeding
Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing
Memory and desire, stirring
Dull roots with spring rain.
from The Waste Land - The Burial of the Dead by TS Eliot
Warnings: None, besides screwing up the prompt beyond recognition...
Summary: Spring. Spring showers. Tonks cannot run out in the rain... but she still won't stay indoors.
Author's Note: This isn't the crack I promised (sorry, gijane...) but at least it's NOT angst. I'd guess... slightly fluffy? Ah well.
The spring rain, wild and needed, blew against the cottage window.
Tonks leaned her forehead against the glass with an 'oof', bracing her hands against the small of her back, Yeah, right, as if anything about me is small anymore..., watching the wind lash the water this way and that. Remus would be home soon, she knew, but she was still... not content.
She loved spring showers like that, she always had. She could close her eyes, and just the sound of it would make her see herself running through her mother's garden, knowing she'd be scolded later, but not caring; or twirling in the torrents on the Hogwarts grounds, then slipping into the kitchen to grab a cup of hot cocoa before changing quickly and sipping it before the fire in the Hufflepuff common room.
Running was totally out of the question, definitely. The most she could manage these days was a slow waddle. Slow, very slow and careful, because not seeing her feet did NOTHING to improve on her usual clumsiness. And one thing she was absolutely certain about... she didn't want to hurt the baby.
But maybe...
Oh, she knew she shouldn't. She knew so well that it only made her want to all the more.
***
So it was that when Remus apparated home, wrapped up in his heavy cloak against the wind and the rain, he found his wife twirling slowly in the small garden, wet through - her robes sticking tightly to her ninth-month pregnancy belly, but her face lifted up to the skies - and she was laughing.
"Dora... if this is some kind of an early joke for tomorrow, it's not exactly amusing."
She stopped her slow turning and looked at him, her eyes alight. "Remus! You're back!" She started walking... waddling towards him, and he sighed and crossed the distance between them.
"Let's get you inside."
"No... just a little more." She looked up again, taking his hand and holding it in both of hers. "April is going to be the cruelest month this year, you know. I used to be able to run and laugh in the rain. Every spring. It won't work now, will it?" Closing her eyes, she just let the wind and rain harass her face unimpeded. Only it looked like she felt they were caressing her face more than anything else.
Looking at her beatific expression, he tightened her fingers around hers and almost smiled. "You are enjoying this, aren't you?"
"Even more, now that you're here. How long since you last enjoyed a spring shower, Remus Lupin?"
He could tell she was watching his face between her lashes, and her words made him wonder. When they came, his words were quiet... wondering. "I don't think I really..." His fingers couldn't help picking out a strand of hair plastered to her face and letting it hang down with the rest. It made her laugh and she looked into his eyes more openly.
Ever so slowly, she took his palms in hers and oh so carefully started twirling him around.
It wasn't what he knew it would be if she wasn't slow and clumsy as she needed to be, so close to her time. But the enthusiasm, the inextinguishable energy was there, and soon he let her turn him around, gently leaning back and turning too.
He wasn't laughing at the rain; true, he wasn't laughing at all. But watching the... sudden, unexpected freedom in her face made him smile. He'd never get where her ability love life so came from. But he couldn't help being grateful that she was exactly as she was. And that she'd let him (forced him?) to be where he could get occasionally infected by it.
Even though both were shivering by the time he guided her carefully inside and they settled, drying, by the fire.
Despite himself, he just found that... the cold, the delay in the news, the strangeness? Had been somehow worth it.
Author: pinkhairedauror
Format & Word Count: Ficlet, 664 words
Rating: PG
Prompt: 31:
April is the cruellest month, breeding
Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing
Memory and desire, stirring
Dull roots with spring rain.
from The Waste Land - The Burial of the Dead by TS Eliot
Warnings: None, besides screwing up the prompt beyond recognition...
Summary: Spring. Spring showers. Tonks cannot run out in the rain... but she still won't stay indoors.
Author's Note: This isn't the crack I promised (sorry, gijane...) but at least it's NOT angst. I'd guess... slightly fluffy? Ah well.
The spring rain, wild and needed, blew against the cottage window.
Tonks leaned her forehead against the glass with an 'oof', bracing her hands against the small of her back, Yeah, right, as if anything about me is small anymore..., watching the wind lash the water this way and that. Remus would be home soon, she knew, but she was still... not content.
She loved spring showers like that, she always had. She could close her eyes, and just the sound of it would make her see herself running through her mother's garden, knowing she'd be scolded later, but not caring; or twirling in the torrents on the Hogwarts grounds, then slipping into the kitchen to grab a cup of hot cocoa before changing quickly and sipping it before the fire in the Hufflepuff common room.
Running was totally out of the question, definitely. The most she could manage these days was a slow waddle. Slow, very slow and careful, because not seeing her feet did NOTHING to improve on her usual clumsiness. And one thing she was absolutely certain about... she didn't want to hurt the baby.
But maybe...
Oh, she knew she shouldn't. She knew so well that it only made her want to all the more.
***
So it was that when Remus apparated home, wrapped up in his heavy cloak against the wind and the rain, he found his wife twirling slowly in the small garden, wet through - her robes sticking tightly to her ninth-month pregnancy belly, but her face lifted up to the skies - and she was laughing.
"Dora... if this is some kind of an early joke for tomorrow, it's not exactly amusing."
She stopped her slow turning and looked at him, her eyes alight. "Remus! You're back!" She started walking... waddling towards him, and he sighed and crossed the distance between them.
"Let's get you inside."
"No... just a little more." She looked up again, taking his hand and holding it in both of hers. "April is going to be the cruelest month this year, you know. I used to be able to run and laugh in the rain. Every spring. It won't work now, will it?" Closing her eyes, she just let the wind and rain harass her face unimpeded. Only it looked like she felt they were caressing her face more than anything else.
Looking at her beatific expression, he tightened her fingers around hers and almost smiled. "You are enjoying this, aren't you?"
"Even more, now that you're here. How long since you last enjoyed a spring shower, Remus Lupin?"
He could tell she was watching his face between her lashes, and her words made him wonder. When they came, his words were quiet... wondering. "I don't think I really..." His fingers couldn't help picking out a strand of hair plastered to her face and letting it hang down with the rest. It made her laugh and she looked into his eyes more openly.
Ever so slowly, she took his palms in hers and oh so carefully started twirling him around.
It wasn't what he knew it would be if she wasn't slow and clumsy as she needed to be, so close to her time. But the enthusiasm, the inextinguishable energy was there, and soon he let her turn him around, gently leaning back and turning too.
He wasn't laughing at the rain; true, he wasn't laughing at all. But watching the... sudden, unexpected freedom in her face made him smile. He'd never get where her ability love life so came from. But he couldn't help being grateful that she was exactly as she was. And that she'd let him (forced him?) to be where he could get occasionally infected by it.
Even though both were shivering by the time he guided her carefully inside and they settled, drying, by the fire.
Despite himself, he just found that... the cold, the delay in the news, the strangeness? Had been somehow worth it.