Fic: Greensmoor Cottage
Jan. 8th, 2018 10:01 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
faeriemagic07 posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
rt_moreloveAuthor/Artist: faerieMagic07
Title: Greensmoor Cottage
Rating & Warnings: A bit of gang attempted assault on the first part.
Word Count/Art Medium: 2718
Prompt(s):
11. When all through the house
Not a creature was stirring,
Not even a mouse
―Clement C. Moore, "A Visit from St. Nicholas"
22. A picture of a Cottage surrounded by snow
30. Oh, the weather outside is frightful,
but the fire is so delightful.
And since we've got no place to go,
Let It Snow! Let It Snow! Let It Snow!
Summary: After a run-in with the Werewolf pack, Tonks gets to visit Remus' cottage. Will Remus finally admit to himself that the house feels warmer with a pink-haired Auror on its premises, or will he be determined to live alone like a hermit?
Notes: Hello everyone! I put this baby together during precious stolen free time. It's not much, but I hope it warms your heart. - faerieMagic07
"For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also." - Mathew 6:21
Cold air of Hogsmeade hit his already damp face as he kept his steady run towards the thickets.
When Maverick said in passing he was going to bring home a bird for the pack, he was quick enough to catch the hidden snare of his words.
Even beyond the thickets with the dim lights he could make out the shape of her hair as chestnut brown. Then when moonlight landed on it, it was in a different shade. He would recognize that sign anywhere even if for one year, he had not caught a glimpse of it. It was dear Nymphadora caught in a planned ambush.
.oOo.
Tonks walked towards the edge of Hogsmeade village, holding with her her date for that night, who was completely entranced by her beauty.
It happened so quickly. One minute she was leading this bloke into the thickets to further get information from him through espionage, then the next thing she knew, dark figures appeared through the darkness. They were hostile, with their teeth-bearing marks that bore violence in their stares. Left and right there started to come out.
"Werewolves", she barely whispered.
She raised her wand to her chest.
Auror though she may be, there was no more standard operating procedures for this kind of situation. People die, civilians and Aurors alike, surrounded by enemies this hostile, in a deadlock ambush.
It will be just another sad story added to the grief of war.
Frank and Alice Longbottom.
The Potters.
Nymphadora Tonks.
A memory of another mutilated body in the midst of war casualties.
"Confringo!" Tonks shot her wand forward as if throwing a stone as the first onslaught of attack that threatened to come near her. three people got blasted out of the spell's path. She rained confringo shots as much as she could over her shoulders as she ran forward to escape the pack.
Tonks was making good progress when she abruptly stopped. In front of her was the shadow of death. Greyback. His eyes bore hatred and malice from years of grunt and starvation. He did not wish the good of anyone.
Then she saw him. To her right, bearing with them the same wild look and drab. Though it was dark, Tonks noticed he was not wearing his prim clothes. It was a shirt dozed with mud and rain and sun. Unkept, unshaven.
When their eyes meet, she hardened her face and pierced through his own brown eyes. She saw his eyes widened like a snitch. She saw the look of horror in his face, almost deranged. His worst fears had come at last. Greyback will steal, kill and destroy the very existence of beauty and un-poisoned laugh of Nymphadora Tonks. It was finished with Remus. Now Death has come to claim her also. It has arrived in her doorstep.
Three men went forward, their eyes hungry and in want, ready to put their hands on the treat. Tonks broke the hand of the first one who got near her. The man howled in pain and came back more angered.
"Get off me!" The next one got a kick in the shins.
"This one's feisty."
Remus felt his feral side of him launch forward. With all authority he could muster, he forced away the other four that went near. He himself went to pin her protectively to the tree, so that no one could get her from any side.
The others were not pleased to be deprived of such a treat, but they held their peace.
"Nymphadora," Remus tried to whisper. "I'm sorry, but I must do this otherwise the others would suspect..." he looked at her with sickening anguish, barely getting his words out.
Tonks' determined face nodded for a fraction.
The pack's gaze bore on him like a high inquisitor, clearly waiting for what he would do next. Remus hesitated for a split second, the plunged into her. Kissing her roughly and pinning both her hands to the tree behind them. Tonks began her screams of protestations. Helplessly she tugged to free her hands, but Remus' grip was firm and far from gentle. When she did come free from his grip, Remus pinned it into place with a much more violent force.
Since protestations were not supposed to work in order for the assailant to stop, she started crying. That was all she could do to stop from kissing him back.
"That's a good girl," he said, when she finally stopped struggling. "That's a good girl."
Others were convinced. They started to smile. Some of them was finally believing his behaviors were acceptable, and worthy of their pack.
Then quite suddenly, somebody pulled Remus' shoulders and pushed him back.
"You shouldn't have it all to yourself," said the other werewolf, and started to get closer to Tonks. Tonks would not take it kindly for her to be objectified. She was probably thinking of hexing the man even if it meant her death by the pack later as a price. Remus pushed him back out of her way.
"Mine," he growled. "That's my woman."
The other werewolf did not take kindly. He plunged to confront Remus again by force. The two struggled for dominance for a while, to which Tonks was already wondering if she should help.
Others started to get involved in the fray. Remus' eyes darted around the pack. He strode forward and with one swift motion, dived to cease hold of Tonks' wrist.
Then she felt it. The sudden pull of apparition. The forest and the grim faces faded.
"He's getting away!" she heard the other werewolf say. But his voice also faded along with the others.
Lupin and the girl dissapparated before the pack's eyes.
"When Remus comes back," Greyback spoke, bloodlust in his eyes. "See to it that he gets a dozen."
.oOo.
There was panting of breath as they struggled to get their bearings.
The smell of the pack faded. To be replaced by that of fir trees. Tonks looked around her to see a forest stretching quiet back on the left. And a wide expanse of moor that stretched comfortably to a little cottage just a little far off from where they were standing.
Greensmoor Cottage. It was, and still is, a lovely house where she had spent some of her precious memories, which as time passed by, was threatening to become like painful ghosts from the past. Remus would have liked it to remain that way. But Tonks would not allow that to happen. Life was to be lived with all its foreboding beauty, even when Remus insisted it was not as it seems for his pride of being firm on harsh realities for which he insist she was too young to speak of yet.
Remus remained a firm grip on her hand and Tonks made no move to stop him. And just rightly so, for no sooner than they had taken a few steps did her foot caught deep in mud. He held her before she went unbalanced, his body responding automatically to the rituals they have done in the past.
She marched on with her steady boots, stepping on wet mud, grass, and logs alike. Sometimes there were brambles. This was no London. And It was chilly cold. Presently, they had to cross a brook. When she tripped on another bramble she finally had to admit to herself, that Remus' house might look like a stone's throw away, but it was damn far enough and difficult to reach, especially in this rain.
They continued to walk like this in silence. Tonks, stumbling over a bit of mud or grassroot, and Remus, never relinquishing his hold to her arm, steadied her.
If he was in a good mood, Remus Lupin would have sarcastically replied about how she falls on every little thing. If he was sober, he would have smiled. But now his face just contorted to a painful grimace that he immediately suppressed to keep his face neutral. It must have pained him to remember her. His Adam's apple tensed then he recovered himself.
One year.
One year they hadn't talked. One year she did not know if he was alive or dead. One year she did not know if he was still flesh and blood.
Arguments that seem to have drawn fresh wounds last year, now seem far away. But it was as stark and clear as daydream: Remus, sweet polite words with an air of sting of reality, which turned into a strained strong voice then into desperation; Tonks' brave front as she struggled to overcome each obstacle for the both of them.
But now they walked in silence, both not trusting themselves to speak, and re-open their age-old scars into a more painful cut.
When they reached the cottage's door, he opened it with a quick spell from his wand. Then he went ahead inside, his back to her. Tonks followed hesitantly.
"You..." the man stopped from his tracks. Tonks almost ran into him, had she not remembered she must keep a brave front. "You can use the lavatory."
"Thanks I…"
Remus closed his eyes to anticipate the painful things she would say next. But it did not come. She did not speak. He felt vaguely disappointed by this, although he would not allow himself to be so. When he turned his head, the door closed softly in the lavatory. But the whole house could hear its sound. He found himself standing alone, staring at the closed door.
.oOo.
Tonks closed the door behind her. She leaned with her hand on one corner. The bathroom was small, but it was cozy and neat. On the upper wall there was a small window that showed the green moor outside.
Very soon, her clothes were in a heap on the side. She sunk into the warm water and sighed.
This is the same tub Remus uses to take a bath in. She traced the patterns on it. It was a good house. I wonder if-
"Nymphadora?"
She could see Remus's shadow fall outside the semi-transparent door.
"Yes, Remus?"
"I have here a jumper you can change into." His shadow moved.
Silence.
"I will just leave this outside the door," he added hesitantly.
"Thank you," she replied with equal civility.
He left.
She found herself staring blankly at the semi-transparent door where Remus' shadow had been.
After a while, she picked herself up from the tub. Shivering from the cold just after standing up, she hurriedly dried herself and grabbed the jumper left by Remus.
But before she could use it her hands shook when it felt the familiar wooly fabric on her fingers. They felt like old friends: a token of a wonderful past that seem precious. She gripped it tight part of her wanting to slam the offending thing on the wall. But instead, she hugged it close to her chest and closed her eyes as she revealed on the smell. Soap and books.
When she went out of the bathroom, the fire by the settee was already roaring. Meters away from her she could already recognize the smell of books. A whole shelfful of it was on her left. She ran a hand on the wooden table as she went by. No doubt, Remus made it himself with the wood he got from outside the house, just like the rest of his furniture. There were still small debris of wood splinters below it. And some tools. She sat herself in front of the fire.
Remus reappeared to drape a thick blanket over her. Tonks nodded in acknowledgement. She wrapped herself around it and was about to comment how she looked like a sushi, but decided not to open her mouth.
Heavy rain had just stopped, but the sky was still sporting fairly dark clouds. No birds were chirping, not a sound. All the creatures outside the Cottage was probably still in their respective homes after the rain. The place was so silent, she could clearly hear the cackling of the fire in front of her. Somewhere at the back of the house she heard the constant loud but faint thud of Remus' axe as it hit the firewood he was trying to make.
Perhaps it was the more unusually quiet afternoon, or the smell of books from the shelves that reached her, or the steady sound of axe hitting wood somewhere at the back of the cottage, or maybe it was the smell of fresh pine leaves Tonks found herself nodding her head, her eyes fluttering to close.
A mug appeared in front of her. Nymphadora looked up to its holder. "Here," said Remus. "It will keep you warm."
She took it awkwardly, wrapping both her hands on the hot beverage and feeling the soothing warmth in her fingertips.
"Thank you," said Tonks.
Lupin managed to move his lips to what Dora guessed was bordering to a smile. His jaw clenched instead.
.oOo.
"Do you have to?" said Tonks.
"Yes. We have to," replied Remus.
"It's not necessary."
"No. We must dress your scratches, or it may be infected."
"Ouch! Don't touch me!" She tried to bite his hand, then growled when he tried to touch her again.
"For the love of Merlin, Nymphadora!"
That was how Remus John Lupin would have cleaned her wounds. But reality shook their little bubble word of playful camaraderie. He stood now on the threshold of the living room, carrying with him the potions and materials he needed for dressing her wounds up. When Tonks heard to sound of someone coming, she turned her face to where he was standing. The grip on the box visibly tightened.
She blinked at him twice, her face softened for a fraction. Remus slowly strode forward. He bent low on the foot of the settee. He looked her in the eye. She pushed her feet forward, and he held it delicately with his hands. He looked down again, as if ashamed on what he was doing, then began his work.
She bit her lip from any complaints from the pain, and contented herself to watch him slowly work in progress.
Remus hesitated. A particular gash snaked its way further up her skirt.
"May I?"
Tonks visibly nodded her head a little.
He gently lifted the hem a bit higher and continued to work.
When Remus stood up again, he went out of the room for a while, then came back to shove more firewood to the fire, trying to hide his fatigue from his excursion outside by taking a deep breath and making it out as a sigh.
"Remus," Tonks tugged the hem of his jumper. "You're tired. Please sit down."
"What are you doing?", said Remus, finally talking. He gently pushed the hand away from his jumper. "You will get soot all over you."
"I don't care. Just please sit down. I'm sure you're tired at your feet."
She gently pulled him down. She did not feel any form of protest. Soon he was sitting properly beside her.
Remus consented to sit in the settee; his back straight and his arms tense, careful not to touch the sushi-like Tonks wrapped in a very thick blanket.
They sat in an uncomfortable silence.
"Y... you look tense," she ventured closer.
"Nymphadora, stop touching me. Look at your hands." he protested silently. Seeing that Tonks had no plans to listen to him, he summoned a wet cloth and wiped her hand clean from the soot. After a few moments Tonks gripped the cloth and proceeded to clean his instead. Very soon she was already massaging his hands.
When Remus looked at her questioningly, she replied, "basic Auror training. It's what we do tense and traumatized individuals." He did not say more.
Seeing this as good sign, Tonks turned her back to him, then slowly snuggled to him closer, so that his hands rested behind her back. She sat tense for a couple of seconds. What would Remus say?
Seeing that Remus made no protest, she relaxed.
"S'nice," she said so quiet for a moment she thought he didn't hear her.
What are they? Right now, Tonks was too tired to think about the technicalities.
All she could think of is the fact that it was so warm. The hands have now moved up to her shoulder. At least, she thought it was the shoulders, if the blanket didn't happen to be so thick. It warmed her more than the fire.
Reviewers get their own cottage with a Remus inside it. All part of the purchase.
Title: Greensmoor Cottage
Rating & Warnings: A bit of gang attempted assault on the first part.
Word Count/Art Medium: 2718
Prompt(s):
11. When all through the house
Not a creature was stirring,
Not even a mouse
―Clement C. Moore, "A Visit from St. Nicholas"
22. A picture of a Cottage surrounded by snow
30. Oh, the weather outside is frightful,
but the fire is so delightful.
And since we've got no place to go,
Let It Snow! Let It Snow! Let It Snow!
Summary: After a run-in with the Werewolf pack, Tonks gets to visit Remus' cottage. Will Remus finally admit to himself that the house feels warmer with a pink-haired Auror on its premises, or will he be determined to live alone like a hermit?
Notes: Hello everyone! I put this baby together during precious stolen free time. It's not much, but I hope it warms your heart. - faerieMagic07
"For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also." - Mathew 6:21
Cold air of Hogsmeade hit his already damp face as he kept his steady run towards the thickets.
When Maverick said in passing he was going to bring home a bird for the pack, he was quick enough to catch the hidden snare of his words.
Even beyond the thickets with the dim lights he could make out the shape of her hair as chestnut brown. Then when moonlight landed on it, it was in a different shade. He would recognize that sign anywhere even if for one year, he had not caught a glimpse of it. It was dear Nymphadora caught in a planned ambush.
.oOo.
Tonks walked towards the edge of Hogsmeade village, holding with her her date for that night, who was completely entranced by her beauty.
It happened so quickly. One minute she was leading this bloke into the thickets to further get information from him through espionage, then the next thing she knew, dark figures appeared through the darkness. They were hostile, with their teeth-bearing marks that bore violence in their stares. Left and right there started to come out.
"Werewolves", she barely whispered.
She raised her wand to her chest.
Auror though she may be, there was no more standard operating procedures for this kind of situation. People die, civilians and Aurors alike, surrounded by enemies this hostile, in a deadlock ambush.
It will be just another sad story added to the grief of war.
Frank and Alice Longbottom.
The Potters.
Nymphadora Tonks.
A memory of another mutilated body in the midst of war casualties.
"Confringo!" Tonks shot her wand forward as if throwing a stone as the first onslaught of attack that threatened to come near her. three people got blasted out of the spell's path. She rained confringo shots as much as she could over her shoulders as she ran forward to escape the pack.
Tonks was making good progress when she abruptly stopped. In front of her was the shadow of death. Greyback. His eyes bore hatred and malice from years of grunt and starvation. He did not wish the good of anyone.
Then she saw him. To her right, bearing with them the same wild look and drab. Though it was dark, Tonks noticed he was not wearing his prim clothes. It was a shirt dozed with mud and rain and sun. Unkept, unshaven.
When their eyes meet, she hardened her face and pierced through his own brown eyes. She saw his eyes widened like a snitch. She saw the look of horror in his face, almost deranged. His worst fears had come at last. Greyback will steal, kill and destroy the very existence of beauty and un-poisoned laugh of Nymphadora Tonks. It was finished with Remus. Now Death has come to claim her also. It has arrived in her doorstep.
Three men went forward, their eyes hungry and in want, ready to put their hands on the treat. Tonks broke the hand of the first one who got near her. The man howled in pain and came back more angered.
"Get off me!" The next one got a kick in the shins.
"This one's feisty."
Remus felt his feral side of him launch forward. With all authority he could muster, he forced away the other four that went near. He himself went to pin her protectively to the tree, so that no one could get her from any side.
The others were not pleased to be deprived of such a treat, but they held their peace.
"Nymphadora," Remus tried to whisper. "I'm sorry, but I must do this otherwise the others would suspect..." he looked at her with sickening anguish, barely getting his words out.
Tonks' determined face nodded for a fraction.
The pack's gaze bore on him like a high inquisitor, clearly waiting for what he would do next. Remus hesitated for a split second, the plunged into her. Kissing her roughly and pinning both her hands to the tree behind them. Tonks began her screams of protestations. Helplessly she tugged to free her hands, but Remus' grip was firm and far from gentle. When she did come free from his grip, Remus pinned it into place with a much more violent force.
Since protestations were not supposed to work in order for the assailant to stop, she started crying. That was all she could do to stop from kissing him back.
"That's a good girl," he said, when she finally stopped struggling. "That's a good girl."
Others were convinced. They started to smile. Some of them was finally believing his behaviors were acceptable, and worthy of their pack.
Then quite suddenly, somebody pulled Remus' shoulders and pushed him back.
"You shouldn't have it all to yourself," said the other werewolf, and started to get closer to Tonks. Tonks would not take it kindly for her to be objectified. She was probably thinking of hexing the man even if it meant her death by the pack later as a price. Remus pushed him back out of her way.
"Mine," he growled. "That's my woman."
The other werewolf did not take kindly. He plunged to confront Remus again by force. The two struggled for dominance for a while, to which Tonks was already wondering if she should help.
Others started to get involved in the fray. Remus' eyes darted around the pack. He strode forward and with one swift motion, dived to cease hold of Tonks' wrist.
Then she felt it. The sudden pull of apparition. The forest and the grim faces faded.
"He's getting away!" she heard the other werewolf say. But his voice also faded along with the others.
Lupin and the girl dissapparated before the pack's eyes.
"When Remus comes back," Greyback spoke, bloodlust in his eyes. "See to it that he gets a dozen."
.oOo.
There was panting of breath as they struggled to get their bearings.
The smell of the pack faded. To be replaced by that of fir trees. Tonks looked around her to see a forest stretching quiet back on the left. And a wide expanse of moor that stretched comfortably to a little cottage just a little far off from where they were standing.
Greensmoor Cottage. It was, and still is, a lovely house where she had spent some of her precious memories, which as time passed by, was threatening to become like painful ghosts from the past. Remus would have liked it to remain that way. But Tonks would not allow that to happen. Life was to be lived with all its foreboding beauty, even when Remus insisted it was not as it seems for his pride of being firm on harsh realities for which he insist she was too young to speak of yet.
Remus remained a firm grip on her hand and Tonks made no move to stop him. And just rightly so, for no sooner than they had taken a few steps did her foot caught deep in mud. He held her before she went unbalanced, his body responding automatically to the rituals they have done in the past.
She marched on with her steady boots, stepping on wet mud, grass, and logs alike. Sometimes there were brambles. This was no London. And It was chilly cold. Presently, they had to cross a brook. When she tripped on another bramble she finally had to admit to herself, that Remus' house might look like a stone's throw away, but it was damn far enough and difficult to reach, especially in this rain.
They continued to walk like this in silence. Tonks, stumbling over a bit of mud or grassroot, and Remus, never relinquishing his hold to her arm, steadied her.
If he was in a good mood, Remus Lupin would have sarcastically replied about how she falls on every little thing. If he was sober, he would have smiled. But now his face just contorted to a painful grimace that he immediately suppressed to keep his face neutral. It must have pained him to remember her. His Adam's apple tensed then he recovered himself.
One year.
One year they hadn't talked. One year she did not know if he was alive or dead. One year she did not know if he was still flesh and blood.
Arguments that seem to have drawn fresh wounds last year, now seem far away. But it was as stark and clear as daydream: Remus, sweet polite words with an air of sting of reality, which turned into a strained strong voice then into desperation; Tonks' brave front as she struggled to overcome each obstacle for the both of them.
But now they walked in silence, both not trusting themselves to speak, and re-open their age-old scars into a more painful cut.
When they reached the cottage's door, he opened it with a quick spell from his wand. Then he went ahead inside, his back to her. Tonks followed hesitantly.
"You..." the man stopped from his tracks. Tonks almost ran into him, had she not remembered she must keep a brave front. "You can use the lavatory."
"Thanks I…"
Remus closed his eyes to anticipate the painful things she would say next. But it did not come. She did not speak. He felt vaguely disappointed by this, although he would not allow himself to be so. When he turned his head, the door closed softly in the lavatory. But the whole house could hear its sound. He found himself standing alone, staring at the closed door.
.oOo.
Tonks closed the door behind her. She leaned with her hand on one corner. The bathroom was small, but it was cozy and neat. On the upper wall there was a small window that showed the green moor outside.
Very soon, her clothes were in a heap on the side. She sunk into the warm water and sighed.
This is the same tub Remus uses to take a bath in. She traced the patterns on it. It was a good house. I wonder if-
"Nymphadora?"
She could see Remus's shadow fall outside the semi-transparent door.
"Yes, Remus?"
"I have here a jumper you can change into." His shadow moved.
Silence.
"I will just leave this outside the door," he added hesitantly.
"Thank you," she replied with equal civility.
He left.
She found herself staring blankly at the semi-transparent door where Remus' shadow had been.
After a while, she picked herself up from the tub. Shivering from the cold just after standing up, she hurriedly dried herself and grabbed the jumper left by Remus.
But before she could use it her hands shook when it felt the familiar wooly fabric on her fingers. They felt like old friends: a token of a wonderful past that seem precious. She gripped it tight part of her wanting to slam the offending thing on the wall. But instead, she hugged it close to her chest and closed her eyes as she revealed on the smell. Soap and books.
When she went out of the bathroom, the fire by the settee was already roaring. Meters away from her she could already recognize the smell of books. A whole shelfful of it was on her left. She ran a hand on the wooden table as she went by. No doubt, Remus made it himself with the wood he got from outside the house, just like the rest of his furniture. There were still small debris of wood splinters below it. And some tools. She sat herself in front of the fire.
Remus reappeared to drape a thick blanket over her. Tonks nodded in acknowledgement. She wrapped herself around it and was about to comment how she looked like a sushi, but decided not to open her mouth.
Heavy rain had just stopped, but the sky was still sporting fairly dark clouds. No birds were chirping, not a sound. All the creatures outside the Cottage was probably still in their respective homes after the rain. The place was so silent, she could clearly hear the cackling of the fire in front of her. Somewhere at the back of the house she heard the constant loud but faint thud of Remus' axe as it hit the firewood he was trying to make.
Perhaps it was the more unusually quiet afternoon, or the smell of books from the shelves that reached her, or the steady sound of axe hitting wood somewhere at the back of the cottage, or maybe it was the smell of fresh pine leaves Tonks found herself nodding her head, her eyes fluttering to close.
A mug appeared in front of her. Nymphadora looked up to its holder. "Here," said Remus. "It will keep you warm."
She took it awkwardly, wrapping both her hands on the hot beverage and feeling the soothing warmth in her fingertips.
"Thank you," said Tonks.
Lupin managed to move his lips to what Dora guessed was bordering to a smile. His jaw clenched instead.
.oOo.
"Do you have to?" said Tonks.
"Yes. We have to," replied Remus.
"It's not necessary."
"No. We must dress your scratches, or it may be infected."
"Ouch! Don't touch me!" She tried to bite his hand, then growled when he tried to touch her again.
"For the love of Merlin, Nymphadora!"
That was how Remus John Lupin would have cleaned her wounds. But reality shook their little bubble word of playful camaraderie. He stood now on the threshold of the living room, carrying with him the potions and materials he needed for dressing her wounds up. When Tonks heard to sound of someone coming, she turned her face to where he was standing. The grip on the box visibly tightened.
She blinked at him twice, her face softened for a fraction. Remus slowly strode forward. He bent low on the foot of the settee. He looked her in the eye. She pushed her feet forward, and he held it delicately with his hands. He looked down again, as if ashamed on what he was doing, then began his work.
She bit her lip from any complaints from the pain, and contented herself to watch him slowly work in progress.
Remus hesitated. A particular gash snaked its way further up her skirt.
"May I?"
Tonks visibly nodded her head a little.
He gently lifted the hem a bit higher and continued to work.
When Remus stood up again, he went out of the room for a while, then came back to shove more firewood to the fire, trying to hide his fatigue from his excursion outside by taking a deep breath and making it out as a sigh.
"Remus," Tonks tugged the hem of his jumper. "You're tired. Please sit down."
"What are you doing?", said Remus, finally talking. He gently pushed the hand away from his jumper. "You will get soot all over you."
"I don't care. Just please sit down. I'm sure you're tired at your feet."
She gently pulled him down. She did not feel any form of protest. Soon he was sitting properly beside her.
Remus consented to sit in the settee; his back straight and his arms tense, careful not to touch the sushi-like Tonks wrapped in a very thick blanket.
They sat in an uncomfortable silence.
"Y... you look tense," she ventured closer.
"Nymphadora, stop touching me. Look at your hands." he protested silently. Seeing that Tonks had no plans to listen to him, he summoned a wet cloth and wiped her hand clean from the soot. After a few moments Tonks gripped the cloth and proceeded to clean his instead. Very soon she was already massaging his hands.
When Remus looked at her questioningly, she replied, "basic Auror training. It's what we do tense and traumatized individuals." He did not say more.
Seeing this as good sign, Tonks turned her back to him, then slowly snuggled to him closer, so that his hands rested behind her back. She sat tense for a couple of seconds. What would Remus say?
Seeing that Remus made no protest, she relaxed.
"S'nice," she said so quiet for a moment she thought he didn't hear her.
What are they? Right now, Tonks was too tired to think about the technicalities.
All she could think of is the fact that it was so warm. The hands have now moved up to her shoulder. At least, she thought it was the shoulders, if the blanket didn't happen to be so thick. It warmed her more than the fire.
Reviewers get their own cottage with a Remus inside it. All part of the purchase.
