Astronomy Tower
Remus Lupin/Nymphadora Tonks
Remus Lupin Nymphadora Tonks
Romance Fanfiction Challenge
The Harry Potter at Hogwarts Years
Half-Blood Prince
Published: 05/11/2006
Updated: 05/11/2006
Words: 992
Chapters: 1
Hits: 2,504

Beneath the Sheets


Story Summary:
The morning after the full moon Remus observes a tired Tonks helping him to recover.

Chapter 01


Author's Notes: Written for the 21 April 2006 prompt - Private Universe by Crowded House - for the rt_challenge over on Livejournal.


Remus awoke from his shallow sleep to the sound of the catch closing in the door. She had closed it so quietly, trying hard not to wake him before she absolutely it was absolutely necessary. After a long night patrolling Hogsmeade she had returned. Remus knew she would be exhausted, though she would not let the night end just yet.

Her soft footprints made their way through the lounge and the kitchen, the tap making a small hissing noise as water rushed through while the old pipes creaked and groaned in protest through the walls. Remus listened to the soft initial roar of the flames as the stove became alight from the flick of her wand.

Remus wanted to get up to help her, but his joints ached with such a ferocity he was hopeless to do anything but supplicate to their will and lie where he was. So he listened to the mundane household sounds she produced from the soft bed while watching the line made on the ceiling by the sunlight that sneaked through the curtains.

She would have shorn her red Auror robe; it would now be lying lifelessly across the back of a chair in the entranceway. Her boots, normally kicked off, would have been pulled off with great amount of care, so as not to make a sound. She would be unscrewing the cap off the bottle of disinfectant and wrinkling up her face in disgust at the smell. And while she waited for the kettle to boil she would be running her hand through her hair, trying to ease in a colour change in a last ditch attempt to show she had not spent the last three days worried sick.

The kettle whistled; she would be with him soon.

Sure enough the door creaked open, letting the sunlight that filled the rest of the flat into Remus' spot of seclusion. He could not see her; his eyes had adjusted to the darkness left by the thick drapes; but he knew she carried with her a loaded tray.

"You picked me flowers." Her smile was present in her tone voice as she said the words.

He had forgotten. His trip back from the Shack, made in haste while his body was still in shock, was now a blur. Yes. Poppies. He had found Corn Poppies growing by the entrance of the Shrieking Shack, sheltered from the wind by the ageing, rotting wood that made up his prison.

"Thank you," she said placed the tray carefully on the table next to the bed. She never spilled it.

"You don't mind...?" she asked moving towards the curtains.

"No," he whispered. She needed the light to work.

Sunlight filled the room, brilliant and radiant and so rare in the times they were living in. The mist had lifted to create a perfect summer's day.

She pulled off her t-shirt and undid off her bra staring out the window of he second story flat the whole time, basking in the morning sunlight. The light illuminated her hair. It was red today; just like the flowers he had given her. She unbuttoned the fly of her pants and pulling them down over her thighs. Stepping out of them, she moved carefully toward the bed.

Picking up the bowl and a white cloth she placed it next to him, the water leaning ever so slightly to one side as if it was about to tip. Precariously she pulled the sheet back and got in beside him, concentrating on the bowl of water the whole time, working her weight on the bed so as not to spill it. She sat, kneeling on the bed before him. A look of concern written across her face as she surveyed the damage done to his body by his transformation and himself.

"You're going to burn you self one of these days," he said, breaking her thoughts.

"No I won't," she replied.

She pulled the sheet back over the two of them; it rested on her head making herself into column holding up a temple. The sheet covered them, cutting them off from the flat and from the Hogsmeade outside, encasing them in a world of their own, decorated in reds and yellows from the sunlight blazing through the sheet.

He winced as she rubbed the wet cloth along the bites and scratches on his forearms, taking care not to hurt him. It stung, but Remus barely noticed as he watched her. Deep brown eyes hidden in shadow worked their way across the marks on his skin, willing them healed, and failing that, taking matters into her own hands.

Reaching out from underneath the sheet she produced some bandages and wrapped his wounds.

This little routine was what Nymphadora did every month.

Once he had tried to stop it. He had survived many years without someone to care for him, and she did not have to start. Later he realised from her objections that she did not just do this for him. It was also her way of dealing with the transformations, with equal parts care, patience and denial; her calm draining away the horrors of the nights before and soothing his beaten body whilst reassuring herself he was going to survive.

Putting the bowl away she lay down beside him, the sheet resting against her head followed her down, their world becoming smaller and smaller until it was only their bodies pressed against each other, her soft skin laying in the contrast to his harsh old scars.

They kissed slowly and gently and he watches her pull back and close her eyes.

As Hogsmeade came alive with townsfolk enjoying the summer day just outside the window, she fell asleep next to him, the pair of them hidden away from the world, together and content.