(Untitled)

[clumsy_auror]

"Christ on a sodding bike, Bernard, slow down!"

Nymphadora braces one hand on the dashboard and the other on her husband's arm, her stricken eyes wide and fixedly staring out at the road.

"Knew we should've taken the train. 'It'll be fine, 'Dora, driving's just like falling off a log! You never forget how! It's no big deal!'"

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[the_woodpecker]

"...Yeah, but, baby," Bernard protests, holding the door of the Eagle and Child open for 'Dora and stepping out behind her, "I think it's fair for me to say that my mushy peas are better even though C. S. Lewis sat around and wrote about talking lions here. It's not like he ate these mushy peas."

He pauses, thinking. "Although..."

[clumsy_auror]

"That is entirely possible."

The little alley is mostly dark; there's a pub -- the Bell, Book, and Candle -- that seems to be doing a modest business, but otherwise the shops are closed.

But there are gas lights throwing a warm glow onto the ancient stones, and Nymphadora suddenly can't help smiling at the loveliness of the night.

She pulls Bernard into a little nook between a confectioner and a bookshop, just holding him close and breathing him in.

[the_woodpecker]

Bernard laughs softly against her hair, his hands sliding around her waist to settle at the small of her back.

It's dark, here; the gentle light of the pub doesn't penetrate this space at all, and the gaslights are little better. A shaft of pale yellow light hits Nymphadora's cheek, and he kisses it, his mouth trailing down to her earlobe, her jaw, the hollows of her neck.

[clumsy_auror]

"I love you," she murmurs. "Thank you for coming away with me. It's nice. It seems like a very... normal thing to do. And I think that's kind of novel."

Her hand slides up his spine, grasping his shoulder and pulling him closer.

[the_woodpecker]

"Love you, too," he murmurs in reply. It's just chilly enough that they're wearing wool coats; Bernard lifts one hand to pull the collar of her coat aside, his breath ghosting over her collarbones. "Contrary to popular belief, I don't mind a little normalcy once in a while."

He kisses his way up to the corner of her mouth. "I'd rather take a weekend trip with you than spend a weekend apart. And I haven't been to Oxford since the early '60's."

[clumsy_auror]

Letting out a long breath, Nymphadora closes her eyes and rests her forehead on his shoulder. "You know, in a few months more we'll be back to insanity and exhaustion. No time for the two of us. More kids than we'll know what to do with."

[the_woodpecker]

He's quiet for a moment, his mouth brushing her hair. "I know. Are you nervous?"

[clumsy_auror]

A moment's hesitation, and then she nods.

[the_woodpecker]

"Me, too."

[clumsy_auror]

She laughs breathily, and hugs him even tighter. "Bit late now though, eh?"

[the_woodpecker]

He's laughing again. "No shit." They stand there for some time, holding tight, cheek to cheek.

"We'll be okay, though, right?"

What he's really asking is whether or not she'll be okay.

[clumsy_auror]

There is a pause while she thinks this over. "Yeah. I think we will. I mean, after everything so far, this ought to be a piece of cake, right?"

[the_woodpecker]

"Don't say that," he replies quickly, his hand slipping up to brush her lips. "We'll be jinxed and get some kind of hellion baby, or twins."

[clumsy_auror]

"...Oh good lord. Twins. I forget, is it fraternal twins that are genetic, or identical? I hope it's fraternal, because the Weasleys are very distant cousins..."

[the_woodpecker]

"I have no fuckin' idea, baby," Bernard sighs, thumping his head against hers lightly. "Besides. My entire family could be twins. Even me."

[clumsy_auror]

Her expression softens. "Now there's a funny thought."

Nymphadora presses a kiss to Bernard's cheek and strolls with him back out onto the thoroughfare.

Quietly, "I have a hard time remembering. That Dude and Kathleen aren't your biological parents, I mean."