Difference II - Hufflepuff and Gryffindor
Difference II - Hufflepuff and Gryffindor
Author: sea_thoughts aka Starsea
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 1696
Prompt: Difference
Summary: Tonks confronts Remus about New Year's Eve: snarkiness, flirtation and house discussion follows, not necessarily in that order.
Author's Notes: Hope that everyone likes this as much as the previous one. The next one will star our favourite Potions Master, thanks to mrstater
He kissed her. He kissed her and now he doesn’t know what to say. What was he thinking? Grabbing her, kissing her in a dark room like a teenager? The kiss is imprinted on his memory like a sensory photograph, her hands tugging at his hair, her tongue in his mouth (it was a teenage kiss all right, tongues and teeth), her voice whispering his name as he pressed his lips against her throat. No, not whispering, be truthful, whimpering. Nymphadora Tonks whimpering his name. Remus lets out a long-held breath and rubs his forehead. He has to talk to her but what can he say? Nothing that will put his behaviour in a better light.
She puts him to shame in the kitchen late one afternoon, when he’s making tea the old-fashioned way, just how Molly likes it. He knows that somebody is there, but he doesn’t realise it’s her until the lightning strike of her voice.
“So that’s it, is it?”
He freezes, unable to move, as if she’s performed the Full Body Bind on him.
“One mad, amazing kiss and you’re done?”
He blushes with the shame of realising that she’s braver than him. The shame makes him turn around and look at her. “No, Nymphadora, that’s not how-”
“Shut up,” she says, her voice suddenly jagged. “Don’t you dare call me that. You don’t have the right to call me that.”
He swallows and nods. “You’re right.”
This seems to surprise her. “I am?” she asks, blank.
“I’ve behaved horribly towards you. You shouldn’t have had to bring this up, I should have done it first…”
“Very nice,” she says dryly, walking forward, “but pretty words are your speciality, Professor.”
Remus smiles, a painful smile. “The truth is that I’m a coward, Tonks.” The name sounds strange and heavy on his tongue but it’s his own fault. “I may be a Gryffindor but when it comes down to it, when I have to push myself… I can’t do it. I fail.”
She rolls her eyes. “Sirius was right, you are a bit of a masochist, aren’t you?”
“You talked to Sirius?!” For one moment, the horror of realising what he’ll have to face from the other man blots out Remus’s shame.
“Of course I talked to Sirius!” She glares at him. “He’s the only person here who knows you well enough to give me an explanation, since you couldn’t do it yourself!” She takes a deep breath, steadies herself, looks at her reflection in the kitchen table that Molly has scrubbed and polished with such care. “Anyway, I didn’t come here to listen to you beat yourself up about what a coward you are, Remus. I came here for an explanation.”
Remus licks his lips and nods. “Do you mind if I finish making the tea? It’s for Molly.”
She gestures. “Be my guest.”
He turns and puts the spoonful of tea into the teapot, then carries on. One for him, one for Molly, one for Nymphadora now that she’s here, and one for the pot. He turns the hourglass over to let it stew for five minutes. If only potions were as easy as this. If only life was as easy as this.
“I shouldn’t have kissed you,” he says quietly. “It was stupid…”
“If you apologise for kissing me, I’ll belt you one,” she says, equally quiet. “The kiss is not the problem, Remus. I liked the kiss. I liked every bit of it.” Her voice trembles just slightly on the last part, tugging at him like a hook. He can’t resist. He turns around and walks to the table, looking at her on the other side.
“I liked it, too,” he tells her, watching as she turns red again, that high brilliant colour that he so loves. “I could tell you I was drunk or not thinking straight but I would be lying.”
When she looks up, her lips are pressed tight to hold back tears. “Then why…?”
“Because it shouldn’t have happened. You…” He sits down at the table and she does the same. He reaches out and puts one tentative hand on hers. She does not draw back. “You’re so young, so fresh, and I’m…”
“You’re not old!” she says fiercely. “You’re older. There’s a difference.”
“It’s more than that and you know it. Age isn’t just about time, it’s about experience…”
“So you’re saying I’m a kid?” she demands.
“Never!” He can’t help smiling at that and she stares at him hungriliy, as if she’d like to eat him up. The irony does not escape him. “I’m saying you’re a young woman and you deserve a young man.”
“But I don’t want a young man,” she says calmly, “I want you.”
The honesty of the declaration takes his breath away and he says the first thing that comes to mind. “What house were you in?”
Nymphadora blinks. “I tell you that I want you and you ask me which house I was in?”
“Humour me, I’m in shock.” He smiles but he’s glad he’s sitting down otherwise he’d probably have collapsed.
She lifts her pointed chin. “Guess.”
“I’ve tried, believe me, but just when I think I’ve guessed it, you do something that throws all my conclusions out of the window.”
She smirks. “It’s called being a woman, Remus.”
“That much I do know, Nymphadora.”
“How do you know I’m not a Gryffindor?” she challenges.
“Too much common sense,” he says, and she laughs in surprise. “Plus, your mother would have had kittens. You’re already bold enough without a whole house encouraging you. And you’re too honest for Slytherin. But I can never quite decide between Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff. You’re intelligent enough for Ravenclaw but nice enough for Hufflepuff.”
She makes a mock gasp. “Are you saying that Ravenclaws aren’t ‘nice’, Professor Lupin?”
“I’m saying they don’t go out of their way to be friendly,” he corrects her. “Whereas you have no pretensions.”
“But I can’t be a Hufflepuff because Hufflepuffs are stupid.”
“Not at all, they’re often the best students because they work the hardest.”
She tosses her head and preens. “That’s true, very true.”
“So you are a Hufflepuff… I’m sure you made Pomona laugh.”
“When I wasn’t making her wring her hands.” She suddenly sits up and points at him. “But don’t think you can get away with this by changing the subject, Professor! Gryffindors are supposed to be chivalrous!”
“Would you like me to pull out your chair and open doors for you?”
“I’d like you to treat me like an equal and respect me.”
He can’t help sounding incredulous. “I do respect you!”
“But you won’t go out with me.”
“It’s not about that…” The top half of the hourglass is empty and he has to get up and prepare the tea tray.
“Yes, it is. I’m old enough for everything except a relationship with you, that’s what you think, isn’t it?”
“Nymphadora, it’s not about you being too young, it’s about me being too old.”
“Same thing!”
“No, no…” Remus doesn’t know how to explain. He helplessly gathers the milk jug and sugar bowl with flicks of his wand, then the little jar of shortbread. He carefully arranges the glittering fingers on a small china plate that Molly found under the sink, feeling her eyes watching him all the time.
“You’re wrong, you are a Gryffindor,” she says suddenly. “Only a Gryffindor would say “no” on the grounds of social etiquette. You’re saying that it wouldn’t be right for us because we don’t fit society’s notion of a good couple and it would be rude and selfish to take me away from all the young men. I take it back: you are chivalrous. And it’s bloody stupid. This is my choice. You want Hufflepuff common sense? Fine: I like you. You like me. There is nothing stopping us from being together apart from your over-active conscience and your chronic lack of self-esteem, both of which can be overcome if you just let me try. How about that for logical reasoning?” She smiles at him, triumphant. Remus can’t think of anything to say. He shakes his head.
“Just think about it,” she says, still smiling. “I’m sure you’ll come round. You’ve got a bit of Hufflepuff in you, too.”
Remus looks at her hair, which is now bright pink and spiky in her favourite style. “That night,” he says.
“Yes?”
“Why did you have grey and black hair?”
“You’re really fond of random questions, aren’t you?”
“It’s the Ravenclaw in me,” he says, thinking of that strange pale girl he taught at Hogwarts, her grey eyes always seeing something others could not.
Nymphadora shrugs. “New Year celebration: grey for the old year, black for the new one. Like Janus.”
“He had two faces, not two hair colours,” Remus says, unable to prevent himself smiling.
“Yeah, I tried that but it was too much effort for a whole evening,” she says breezily and he bursts out laughing. The next thing he knows, she is taking the tray from him, putting it down on the table again and kissing him slowly and deliberately on the lips. He stops laughing, breathtaken.
“You’ve got a wonderful laugh,” she says. “You should let it out more.”
“I don't usually have a reason to do that,” he says slowly.
She smiles, cocking her head with a flirtatious glitter in her eyes. “I could give you a reason... if you'd let me.”
He licks his lips. “I...”
“You know it makes sense,” she says, laughter bubbling under her voice as she senses her victory.
“I'm a Gryffindor, I don't have any sense,” he reminds her.
“Which is another reason why I'm perfect for you,” she says cheekily.
Remus lets out a breath and lets go, stops fighting. He holds the young, warm body against his and feels that nervous exhilaration that you only get when you take a chance, the feeling that he remembers from so long ago, the feeling that is a Gryffindor's life blood. “Yes,” he says, and just has time to see the look of surprised joy on her face before he kisses her again.
Author: sea_thoughts aka Starsea
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 1696
Prompt: Difference
Summary: Tonks confronts Remus about New Year's Eve: snarkiness, flirtation and house discussion follows, not necessarily in that order.
Author's Notes: Hope that everyone likes this as much as the previous one. The next one will star our favourite Potions Master, thanks to mrstater
He kissed her. He kissed her and now he doesn’t know what to say. What was he thinking? Grabbing her, kissing her in a dark room like a teenager? The kiss is imprinted on his memory like a sensory photograph, her hands tugging at his hair, her tongue in his mouth (it was a teenage kiss all right, tongues and teeth), her voice whispering his name as he pressed his lips against her throat. No, not whispering, be truthful, whimpering. Nymphadora Tonks whimpering his name. Remus lets out a long-held breath and rubs his forehead. He has to talk to her but what can he say? Nothing that will put his behaviour in a better light.
She puts him to shame in the kitchen late one afternoon, when he’s making tea the old-fashioned way, just how Molly likes it. He knows that somebody is there, but he doesn’t realise it’s her until the lightning strike of her voice.
“So that’s it, is it?”
He freezes, unable to move, as if she’s performed the Full Body Bind on him.
“One mad, amazing kiss and you’re done?”
He blushes with the shame of realising that she’s braver than him. The shame makes him turn around and look at her. “No, Nymphadora, that’s not how-”
“Shut up,” she says, her voice suddenly jagged. “Don’t you dare call me that. You don’t have the right to call me that.”
He swallows and nods. “You’re right.”
This seems to surprise her. “I am?” she asks, blank.
“I’ve behaved horribly towards you. You shouldn’t have had to bring this up, I should have done it first…”
“Very nice,” she says dryly, walking forward, “but pretty words are your speciality, Professor.”
Remus smiles, a painful smile. “The truth is that I’m a coward, Tonks.” The name sounds strange and heavy on his tongue but it’s his own fault. “I may be a Gryffindor but when it comes down to it, when I have to push myself… I can’t do it. I fail.”
She rolls her eyes. “Sirius was right, you are a bit of a masochist, aren’t you?”
“You talked to Sirius?!” For one moment, the horror of realising what he’ll have to face from the other man blots out Remus’s shame.
“Of course I talked to Sirius!” She glares at him. “He’s the only person here who knows you well enough to give me an explanation, since you couldn’t do it yourself!” She takes a deep breath, steadies herself, looks at her reflection in the kitchen table that Molly has scrubbed and polished with such care. “Anyway, I didn’t come here to listen to you beat yourself up about what a coward you are, Remus. I came here for an explanation.”
Remus licks his lips and nods. “Do you mind if I finish making the tea? It’s for Molly.”
She gestures. “Be my guest.”
He turns and puts the spoonful of tea into the teapot, then carries on. One for him, one for Molly, one for Nymphadora now that she’s here, and one for the pot. He turns the hourglass over to let it stew for five minutes. If only potions were as easy as this. If only life was as easy as this.
“I shouldn’t have kissed you,” he says quietly. “It was stupid…”
“If you apologise for kissing me, I’ll belt you one,” she says, equally quiet. “The kiss is not the problem, Remus. I liked the kiss. I liked every bit of it.” Her voice trembles just slightly on the last part, tugging at him like a hook. He can’t resist. He turns around and walks to the table, looking at her on the other side.
“I liked it, too,” he tells her, watching as she turns red again, that high brilliant colour that he so loves. “I could tell you I was drunk or not thinking straight but I would be lying.”
When she looks up, her lips are pressed tight to hold back tears. “Then why…?”
“Because it shouldn’t have happened. You…” He sits down at the table and she does the same. He reaches out and puts one tentative hand on hers. She does not draw back. “You’re so young, so fresh, and I’m…”
“You’re not old!” she says fiercely. “You’re older. There’s a difference.”
“It’s more than that and you know it. Age isn’t just about time, it’s about experience…”
“So you’re saying I’m a kid?” she demands.
“Never!” He can’t help smiling at that and she stares at him hungriliy, as if she’d like to eat him up. The irony does not escape him. “I’m saying you’re a young woman and you deserve a young man.”
“But I don’t want a young man,” she says calmly, “I want you.”
The honesty of the declaration takes his breath away and he says the first thing that comes to mind. “What house were you in?”
Nymphadora blinks. “I tell you that I want you and you ask me which house I was in?”
“Humour me, I’m in shock.” He smiles but he’s glad he’s sitting down otherwise he’d probably have collapsed.
She lifts her pointed chin. “Guess.”
“I’ve tried, believe me, but just when I think I’ve guessed it, you do something that throws all my conclusions out of the window.”
She smirks. “It’s called being a woman, Remus.”
“That much I do know, Nymphadora.”
“How do you know I’m not a Gryffindor?” she challenges.
“Too much common sense,” he says, and she laughs in surprise. “Plus, your mother would have had kittens. You’re already bold enough without a whole house encouraging you. And you’re too honest for Slytherin. But I can never quite decide between Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff. You’re intelligent enough for Ravenclaw but nice enough for Hufflepuff.”
She makes a mock gasp. “Are you saying that Ravenclaws aren’t ‘nice’, Professor Lupin?”
“I’m saying they don’t go out of their way to be friendly,” he corrects her. “Whereas you have no pretensions.”
“But I can’t be a Hufflepuff because Hufflepuffs are stupid.”
“Not at all, they’re often the best students because they work the hardest.”
She tosses her head and preens. “That’s true, very true.”
“So you are a Hufflepuff… I’m sure you made Pomona laugh.”
“When I wasn’t making her wring her hands.” She suddenly sits up and points at him. “But don’t think you can get away with this by changing the subject, Professor! Gryffindors are supposed to be chivalrous!”
“Would you like me to pull out your chair and open doors for you?”
“I’d like you to treat me like an equal and respect me.”
He can’t help sounding incredulous. “I do respect you!”
“But you won’t go out with me.”
“It’s not about that…” The top half of the hourglass is empty and he has to get up and prepare the tea tray.
“Yes, it is. I’m old enough for everything except a relationship with you, that’s what you think, isn’t it?”
“Nymphadora, it’s not about you being too young, it’s about me being too old.”
“Same thing!”
“No, no…” Remus doesn’t know how to explain. He helplessly gathers the milk jug and sugar bowl with flicks of his wand, then the little jar of shortbread. He carefully arranges the glittering fingers on a small china plate that Molly found under the sink, feeling her eyes watching him all the time.
“You’re wrong, you are a Gryffindor,” she says suddenly. “Only a Gryffindor would say “no” on the grounds of social etiquette. You’re saying that it wouldn’t be right for us because we don’t fit society’s notion of a good couple and it would be rude and selfish to take me away from all the young men. I take it back: you are chivalrous. And it’s bloody stupid. This is my choice. You want Hufflepuff common sense? Fine: I like you. You like me. There is nothing stopping us from being together apart from your over-active conscience and your chronic lack of self-esteem, both of which can be overcome if you just let me try. How about that for logical reasoning?” She smiles at him, triumphant. Remus can’t think of anything to say. He shakes his head.
“Just think about it,” she says, still smiling. “I’m sure you’ll come round. You’ve got a bit of Hufflepuff in you, too.”
Remus looks at her hair, which is now bright pink and spiky in her favourite style. “That night,” he says.
“Yes?”
“Why did you have grey and black hair?”
“You’re really fond of random questions, aren’t you?”
“It’s the Ravenclaw in me,” he says, thinking of that strange pale girl he taught at Hogwarts, her grey eyes always seeing something others could not.
Nymphadora shrugs. “New Year celebration: grey for the old year, black for the new one. Like Janus.”
“He had two faces, not two hair colours,” Remus says, unable to prevent himself smiling.
“Yeah, I tried that but it was too much effort for a whole evening,” she says breezily and he bursts out laughing. The next thing he knows, she is taking the tray from him, putting it down on the table again and kissing him slowly and deliberately on the lips. He stops laughing, breathtaken.
“You’ve got a wonderful laugh,” she says. “You should let it out more.”
“I don't usually have a reason to do that,” he says slowly.
She smiles, cocking her head with a flirtatious glitter in her eyes. “I could give you a reason... if you'd let me.”
He licks his lips. “I...”
“You know it makes sense,” she says, laughter bubbling under her voice as she senses her victory.
“I'm a Gryffindor, I don't have any sense,” he reminds her.
“Which is another reason why I'm perfect for you,” she says cheekily.
Remus lets out a breath and lets go, stops fighting. He holds the young, warm body against his and feels that nervous exhilaration that you only get when you take a chance, the feeling that he remembers from so long ago, the feeling that is a Gryffindor's life blood. “Yes,” he says, and just has time to see the look of surprised joy on her face before he kisses her again.