Consequences

Chapter 16: Simple things

Suppose I must’ve fallen asleep. You have to fall asleep for someone to wake you up, don’t you? And wake me up he did, at about four o’clock this morning. The first thing I remember is soft kisses on my shoulders and a warm hand on my bottom. Then kisses moving up my neck, to my ear and that hand sliding over my hip, up across my belly and over my breasts. Feeling the warm pressure of his body against mine. I rolled over and kissed him, without even having to open my eyes. I ran my fingers through his hair and over his shoulders and we made made love again. Again! And I can’t believe it, really. And ... Gawd! Still can’t stop smiling.

He’s still asleep. I am tempted to wake him the same way he woke me earlier, but I know if I do, we’ll be late. The last thing we need is Moody to come looking for us, spinning his magical eye at my door. So I pull my Weird Sisters tee shirt over my head, buckle my belt and climb back onto the bed. Straddling the sleeping wizard, I pause to admire his Tonks-tousled hair. Not tart-tousled this time... I’m so funny.

‘Come on slow coach. It’s time to get up.’

He mumbles something I don’t understand in response and doesn’t open his eyes.

‘Out of bed.’ Leaning down I kiss him quickly.

A slightly evil grin spreads across his face but his eyes remain shut. His hands slide up my thighs. ‘Why are you dressed?’ he asks, finally blinking his eyes open.

‘Train station.’ I kiss him again and dismount both him and the bed.

He scrubs his hands over his face. ‘What time is it?’

‘Nearly half eight. Can’t believe you’ve forgotten already. It was your idea to begin with.’

Sitting up, he slides his arms around my waist and pulls me to him. He has pyjama bottoms on now; wonder when that happened?

‘I didn’t forget. I’ve just had things on my mind ...’ He smirks up at me.

‘Things?’

‘Hmmm ...’ He doesn’t say another word but lifts the edge of my tee shirt and kisses my tummy; makes me laugh.

*

I’ve decided to go down to breakfast alone, not because I’m terribly hungry but because Remus is in the shower and I am far too tempted to interrupt him.

Really, really, tempted ...

I can smell the bacon and coffee as I come down the stairs and into the kitchen. But for the first time since I can remember, Molly is nowhere to be seen. Instead, breakfast comes courtesy of Fred and George. Frightening really but as I don’t think they would dare turn any of us into canaries and such, it’s probably safe. George and Kingsley sit at the table while Fred minds the frying pan.

I sit and start helping myself to scrambled egg and toast.

‘Good supper with Molly and Arthur last night, wasn’t it?’ Kingsley says in a friendly-conversation-type way that instantly makes me suspicious.

‘Great nosh,’ George adds.

‘Was very nice,’ I agree, adding bacon and tomato to my plate.

‘Thought Remus was going to have to carry you out of there last night, you were so tired,’ George says, grinning over my head at Fred who’s dropping sausages onto my plate.

‘I had a long day.’

‘Well, hopefully, you managed to get a decent night’s sleep.’

‘How did you sleep?’ Kingsley asks, raising an eyebrow at me.

‘Quite well, actually. You?’ I ask, trying to be all nonchalant.

‘Not bad.’ He sops up the last bit of egg yolk with his toast, and I breathe a sigh of relief. But a grin crosses his face before the toast reaches his lips. ‘Had a bit of trouble falling asleep though.’

‘Really?’ I ask stoically and stuff my mouth with bacon.

‘Boggart in my ceiling; making one hell of a noise. Must be under the floorboards in the room above.’

‘Really?’

‘Boggart?’ George asks, oblivious.

‘Hmmm ...’ Kingsley continues.

‘Shouldn’t be any Boggarts ...’ George looks a bit confused.

Please ignore us.

‘You’re above me, aren’t you, Tonks?’ Kingsley grins, ‘you didn’t hear anything?’

Evil man.

‘Not a thing, but as George said, I was really tired.’

Kingsley takes a bite of his toast and chews, watching me carefully. So I just stuff food in my mouth and pretend I don’t know what he’s talking about. But he’s not finished yet. He twirls his fork in his fingers. ‘All that moaning and banging, surprised you got any sleep at all.’

I choke, Kingsley laughs and Fred thumps me on the back as he sits down beside me with his plate.

‘You all right, Tonks?’

‘She’s fine,’ Kingsley answers for me. ‘Just discussing ... Boggarts.’ He grins, his eyes crinkling merrily at his joke.

‘Boggarts?’ Fred looks at George who just shrugs. ‘So err ... we know he took you home, but did Lupin tuck you in last night?’ Fred waggles his eyebrows at me as he tucks into his breakfast.

Shut up, shut up, shut up.

But it’s too late. The look on George’s face ... He looks from me to Kingsley and back again. ‘There’s no bloody Boggart, is there?’

Neither of us answer.

‘I’m right, aren’t! I? Merlin, I am! She’s bright red.’

Fuck ...

‘What? What’d I miss?’ Fred asks.

‘Think our Tonks got a bit more than a tuck in.’ George’s face is one huge grin. If he tries to hi-five me I’m going to smack him.

‘Did you?’ Fred nudges me with his elbow. ‘Do tell.’

‘Please ... don’t,’ Kingsley interrupts. ‘I just ate.’

‘Don’t know what you’re talking about.’ I take renewed interest in my sausages.

‘Who knew the Professor had it in him?’

‘Well, you know, he is a werewolf,’ his brother adds winking wickedly.

‘Ah. Too right.’ Fred nods sagely, as if that bit of information explains everything.

‘I hate you, Kingsley,’ I say as he gets up from the table.

‘I know.’ He winks at me and takes his empty plate to the sink.

‘So ... err ... Tonks,’ Fred continues, ‘is it true then?’

‘Is what true?’

‘What they say ... about werewolves and ...’ It’s like rude charades! ...

‘Morning, Remus.’ Kingsley’s voice booms above our own and the kitchen immediately falls silent. Fred and George even straighten up and pull their chairs in. I forget he was once their teacher.

Kingsley is laughing as he tries to finish his coffee. He drops his cup near the sink as he leaves, clamping his hand briefly on Remus’s shoulder as he passes him.

‘Good morning, Remus.’ I say rather formally, looking at the twins.

‘Morning, Remus,’ they follow suit.

Remus slides into the chair beside me, kissing my cheek as he does. This simple action draws a soft ‘Ah, bless’ from Fred and in turn, a snicker from George. A quick glance form Remus though and they both try and cover by pretending to cough, which makes me laugh.

‘So what are you boys up to today?’ Remus asks cheerfully.

‘Nothing.’

‘Nothing.’

‘Station.’

‘Yes. Naturally, we are going to the station.’

‘Wouldn’t miss it.’

‘Mum’s got something planned,’ Fred says waving his toast. ‘So we’re at home after that.’

‘No work today?’

‘No. Lee and Verity are running things today.’

They’re trying so hard to behave themselves but every time Remus looks away they’re grinning madly at me or at each other. Beside me, Fred is gripping his fork so tightly, his knuckles are white. They’re just bursting. It’s hilarious. Serves them right.

We eat the rest of our breakfast this way, with overly formal discussions of weather and work. We clear our plates and George sets the washing up in motion. It’s not ‘til we’re out of the kitchen and climbing the stairs that I hear anything more. Even then it’s just whispers and snickering but I hear the words ‘well you know what they say’ and ‘hippogriff’ in there somewhere. I let Remus get a few steps ahead of me on the stairs before I stop and turn to the boys.

‘It’s true.’ I say in my most serious voice. ‘Thought I was going to die.’ With that I turn on my heel and follow Remus up the stairs.

Boys!

* *

It still stabs at me. Even now, as we watch Harry walk down the platform with a grin on his face, his aunt, uncle and cousin trailing behind him like lost puppies.

It’s just not fair.

We should all have been here today. It should have been Sirius and Remus sparring with fat Dursley instead of Remus and Moody. And no matter what Remus or Charlie or Bill or any of them say ... the facts can’t be ignored ... If I’d’ve bested Bella ... The knot in my stomach lurches painfully as I watch the back of Harry’s head disappear through the crowd. Damn it!

Remus’s warm hand slides into mine, his long fingers entwining with my own. He gives my hand a gentle tug and we start to move through the crowd. I look up at him but he’s not looking at me, his gaze is fixed straight ahead, his jaw is clenched. I know he feels it too. I know that as much as he wanted to come here today, as much as he needed to let Harry know that he was still here for him, it has only served to remind him that Sirius is gone.

I think Moody expected Remus to head back to Headquarters with him directly after our conversation with Dursley but he didn’t seem to mind when Remus told him that he was going to keep me company until I had to go to work. Gave me a rather suspicious look though.

We make our way down the escalators to the tube. It’s hot and crowded and there’s nowhere to sit so Remus grabs hold of the yellow bar and leans against the wall and I lean against him, his arm around my waist. Muggles come and go around us as the train makes its stops. No one gives us a second look. It’s wonderful.

We surface at Covent Garden mainly because sometime this morning I promised Remus we’d have lunch before I have to go to work. So we buy jacket potatoes from one of the Muggle vendors and find a sunny patch out of the wind to sit and eat them. Sitting together, leaning against the warm stone of the wall. I love this.

Muggle magicians amaze me. I sit between Remus’s knees as we watch the street performance. It’s incredible really. Muggles doing magic! Remus laughs when I tell him. Tells me it’s all sleight of hand and mirrors. But I couldn’t do it. And I don’t think he could either. Not without a wand anyway. This guy is really good.

But the time is ticking down and I know it’s past noon.

‘I have to work.’

‘I know,’ he whispers. And I find myself getting to my feet, ruining our perfect little moment. He follows me and I lead a path away from the Muggles and the market down a small, empty side street.

Stopping about halfway in, I step into a doorway and turn to him, fumbling in my pockets for my keys. I pull the red one off and press it into the palm of his hand.

‘What’s this?’ he asks.

‘Can you come by my flat tonight?’

‘I could stop by for a bit.’ He grins as I shake my head.

‘Can you stay at my flat tonight?’ Better rephrase.

‘Stay?’

I nod. ‘Yes, stay.’ I can feel the heat rise in my face and I suddenly can’t look him. ‘Stay with me.’

‘You want me to?’

‘Yes ... I want you ... too.’

He kisses me softly and I keep my eyes shut for a moment even after we part, hoping to hold on to just a bit of this morning. I don’t want to go to work today.

*

It’s later than I thought it would be. Getting darker by the minute as I tap the sheet metal fence beside Angel bridge and mutter the incantation that makes Rowena’s Gate appear; wrought iron and draped in ivy. Shutting the gate behind me, I make my way down the cobbled street to my building. It’s days like today that make me realise just how close we are to an all-out war. An elderly Muggle lost his life last night, just outside Rickmansworth, apparently a random target for Death Eaters. There was also an attack in Halifax late last night that sent a wizard to St Mungo's; he’s not doing well. We all got an earful from Scrimgeour today about how our hours are going to increase and how we have to do a better job. And then there was ... fuck ... The other bit of news, news that I am not looking forward to sharing, especially with the man who I know is waiting for me to come home... It was all they could talk about this afternoon ... Fenrir Greyback is back in the country. He was spotted in Wiltshire. Terrified a little old witch in Pewsey who saw him drinking tea outside a Muggle cafe, bold as brass. He flashed her a grin; with his neatly filed canines, that grin is unmistakable. But then Greyback has always been a bit of a showman. He’ll be on the front page of every paper tomorrow and he’ll love it. Light at the end of the tunnel though since Amelia Bones has decided to put her name in for the job of Minister for Magic. Great news for the Order and for the Wizarding World in general, but needless to say, Scrimgeour was not in a very good mood today.

I can hear laughter from various open doorways and windows as I walk. Warm light floods into the street, dancing in the fine drizzle. It’s Friday night; friends and family are together. As I look around at the lights in my neighbour’s windows, I can’t help but wonder how long peace will last in our little corner of the world. How long it will be before it starts to happen here. Before they shed tears for their loved ones, before whole families disappear in the night. I’m not too young to remember ...

Mrs Fuller waves to me as I climb the stairs to my flat. The curtains are drawn in my windows, but the lights are on. Remus is here and I’m happy.

I am also suddenly hungry. The lovely smell, which I naturally assumed was coming from Mrs Fuller’s flat, is actually coming from mine. Intriguing... Am tempted to knock on my own door before entering, but I resist and instead slip my key in the lock and grasp the knob. It opens before I have a chance to push it. Opens to Remus with a warm smile and a tea towel slung over his shoulder.

‘Wotcher.’ Stupid grin. Stupid grin. Stupid grin.

‘Hello,’ he replies.

Oh Lord, has he tidied up? I immediately try and picture what the place looked like last time I saw it but for the life of me I can’t remember. Don’t think it was this clean though.

I unfasten my cloak and he slips it off my shoulders and hangs it on the hook by the door. ‘Thank you.’ He doesn’t reply, just sweeps a few stray hairs aside and kisses my neck.

I may fall over. ‘I love it when you do that,’ I manage, reaching back and running my fingers through his hair.

‘Funny, because I don’t remember ever doing it before.’ He laughs softly in my ear.

‘For future reference then I love it when you do that.’

‘Good to know.’ He smiles at me as I spin around to face him, standing on my toes, kissing him properly.

‘What have you been up to?’ I ask, looking at the damp tea towel on his shoulder.

‘This and that. Have you eaten?’

I shake my head. ‘No.’

‘Good. Come on.’ Taking my hand, he leads me to my little kitchen table. It is neatly set with bowls and plates.

‘What are we having?’

‘Just soup and bread.’

I shiver at the warm thought. ‘Perfect. Sorry I’m so late.’

‘Not a problem. Is it still raining?’ He places a basket of bread on the table and ladles thick soup into bowls before sitting across from me.

‘Pretending to; just drizzling really.’ The soup is wonderful, hot and rich and I’m really rather impressed. Has Remus ever cooked for me before? Oh, yes, once when I was ill but that was just beans-on-toast so it doesn’t count. ‘This is delicious.’ I’m already half finished when I finally come up for air and decide to tell him that.

‘Thank you.’

‘But I didn’t think I had any ingredients ...’

‘You didn’t.’ He smiles at me over his spoon.

‘Then how did you ...’

He shakes his head. ‘It’s Ceridwen’s Broth.’

‘No, it isn’t.’

He laughs. ‘It is.’

‘Can’t be, it’s good. When I make it, it tastes like glue. What did you add?’

‘Onion and a couple of bacon rashers; courtesy of Mrs Fuller downstairs. Bread’s from her too.’

‘Really ... Been chatting up the elderly, have you?’

‘She was having trouble with all those potted plants of hers in that wind this afternoon and I helped her. We started talking, she had just finished baking bread. I said I was on my way up here. She said to make sure you ate something, that you’re far too thin and you don’t take care of yourself.’

‘Course not. I’m a wreck.’

He chuckles and pokes at what’s left of his soup with his spoon. ‘She also asked me why I don’t bring my dog anymore ... and ... I told her.’ He looks up at me for a moment before continuing. ‘Told her who he was and what happened. She gave me a cake.’ He smiles broadly and points at a small cake with brown icing on the worktop.

‘And that’s funny because ...’

‘Just is. It’s coffee flavour, Sirius’s favourite.

‘I’m not following ...’

‘Remember Guy Fawkes Day last year. When they were all getting ready for the block party. You made chicken satay ...’

‘And set the first batch alight.’ Guy Fawkes after all.

‘I wasn’t going to mention that.’ He grins at me. ‘Damn good though.’

‘Must’ve been; you and Sirius ate them off the front lawn.’

He’s laughing now.

‘I hurled the flaming pan out of the kitchen window and you and Sirius ran downstairs and picked them all off the lawn.’

He shrugs. ‘Was only grass.’

And I suddenly have this image of the two of them sitting at my kitchen table drinking lager and picking blades of grass off partially charred chicken. Idiots.

‘Anyway,’ he continues, shaking his head, ‘Mrs Fuller made a cake, just like this one and I think Sirius had me go back downstairs about six times to get him more ... Just think it’s funny that tonight, of all things ... she gives me this cake.’

Not sure whether that’s funny or depressing myself, but the look on Remus’s face is makes me smile in spite of everything.

‘It was hard today.’ The thought comes out of my head before I have a chance to edit myself.

‘Yes,’ he agrees. ‘Seeing Harry ... Sirius would’ve ...’ He stops and squeezes my fingers, glancing around the room a few times before looking at me again.

‘I know.’ I feel the overwhelming need to apologise to him again. To apologise for Sirius, but I know if I do it will just lead to another argument as to why I shouldn’t. So instead, I just tighten my grip on his hand and whisper, ‘I miss him too.’

He nods. And we just sit there like that, not quite looking at each other, for the longest time. Just wishing that things could be a little different. That ... but it can’t, can it? We’re just wishing ...

‘I’m going put the kettle on,’ I find myself saying. Don’t really know what else to do; he’s gone all quiet. And tea solves everything, doesn’t it?

But it seems to take me forever to get water in the kettle and tea leaves in the pot. I can’t seem to concentrate on what I’m doing. I need cups, no mugs ... and a tray and a knife to cut the cake and... fuck ... plates would be an idea.

Tears burn behind my eyes and it’s suddenly hard to breathe. I bite down hard on my lip; really don’t want to fall apart right now. Last thing I need. Shit, my hands are shaking. I’ve only just got the cups on the tray and I’m looking for the stupid cake knife; then Remus is behind me. Sliding his arms around me; pinning my arms to my sides, pulling me back against him. He says nothing, just holds me there. Holds me there, resting his head against the top of mine. I can feel his breath on my ear, the tightness of his arms across my chest, the warmth of his body. I can smell sandalwood and hear his even breathing. I close my eyes and let my head fall back against his chest. He tightens his embrace further and I feel myself begin to relax. Feel the tension leave my shoulders, the knot in my stomach loosen.

‘I’m sorry,’ he whispers.

What? ‘What for?’

‘I wanted tonight to be special.’

‘It is.’ I turn around in his embrace, run my hands up his chest and into his hair. ‘It’s perfect. You’re here.’ I have to say that last bit to his collar. Can’t look at him for that in case I go all silly. He kisses me anyway though so I can’t seem like that much of an idiot. I stand on tip toe and wrap my arms around his neck, push my tongue into his mouth. I love kissing him; love the flavour of him, the warmth of him, the sensations he causes as his hands move up my back.

Damn kettle!

Remus kisses my forehead as he steps away from me to lift the screeching kettle off the hob. I get the plates and forks while Remus pours the hot water into the teapot and drops the cosy on the top. I still can’t find the cake knife so I use the bread knife instead. After all, someone who’s eaten burnt chicken off my front lawn can’t really judge my incorrect knife use.

‘Come on,’ he says, lifting the tray off the worktop and nodding in the direction of my sitting room, ‘let’s see if this cake is as good as the last one.’

*

Judging by the speed at which his first and then second piece of cake disappeared, I’d say it probably is. I slide my empty plate onto the coffee table and curl beside him on the sofa. ‘Twas good cake.’

He nods beside me and chuckles again.

‘Still funny, huh?’

He shrugs. ‘A bit.’

‘What do you think he would say?’

‘Who? Sirius? About what?’

‘About ...’ I slide my hand into his, ‘this.’

‘Ah.’ He laughs, a rolling laugh that vibrates against my head where it rests on his shoulder.
‘You mean after he’d finished taking the piss.’

‘Well, yes, after that.’

‘I’d think it would be a hearty congratulations to myself and ... some rather pitying words for you.’

‘Remus!’

‘It’s true. Can’t you just hear it? ‘I know you’re desperate Tonks, but Remus? Look at him, he’s ever so scruffy and he’s old enough to be ...’

‘What?’ I interrupt, ‘my mother’s little cousin? My Hogwarts’ professor?’

He laughs.

‘You see, now that would have been interesting ...’ I continue.

‘Would it?’ he asks, looking down at me, the look in his dark eyes making me go all squirmy.

‘Mmmm ... Detention with Professor Lupin ... Would you make me write essays or scrub cauldrons? Or perhaps something else ...’

‘Stop it.’

‘Why? Are you having impure thoughts?’ I tease.

‘Yes,’ he laughs, pulling me closer. Sliding myself up his body I run both hands through his hair and kiss him firmly.

‘I did hear you were rather naughty in school.’ He smiles when we part.

‘True. I heard you were rather a brilliant Professor though.’

‘True.’ He chuckles.

‘Oh, I forgot to ask. Did you finish your paper?’

‘Yes. Sent if off this afternoon.’

‘Do you think they’ll ask you for another straight away?’

‘They might. Don’t know if I’ll do another at the moment though. Think I may be a bit busy with the Order. You know, as I do, that things are changing rather quickly.

And suddenly the bad news I have to share is at the forefront of my mind again. I instantly feel my chest tighten, but I know I have to tell him. He deserves to know more than anyone. ‘Actually, we got some rather disturbing news at work today ...’

‘That Fenrir Greyback has returned to England. I know. Moody told me this afternoon.’

‘It was all anyone could talk about at work today.’

‘I believe it.’ He sets his empty plate down on the coffee table and picks up his tea.

‘You all right?’ I ask softly.

He looks down at me, smiles and nods. ‘Not thrilled, obviously, but it was to be expected, wasn’t it? Only a matter of time before Death Eaters start crawling out of the woodwork. Greyback has a large following here, Death Eater or not. He’s a very charismatic man. He has money ... old money, and influence. There are a lot of people, amongst the werewolf population, who will listen to him, people who are fed up with listening to the Ministry promise change and do nothing.’

‘That’s the danger, isn’t it?’

Remus nods. ‘Angry people are easily swayed.’

‘Nearly half of Law Enforcement is looking for him.’

‘Good.’

‘From the bits and pieces I overheard today, they’re trying to find a man named McDougall. They think if they find him, they’ll find Greyback.’

‘Dermott McDougall.’

‘That’s it. Who is he?’

‘He heads a largest pack in the south.’ Remus takes a long sip of his tea and watches the fire in the hearth. ‘They were once lead by a man named Brennan Caede, you may have heard of him?’

I nod and hope the nausea in my stomach is not reflected in my expression. Don’ t know what it is, but hearing that man’s name pass Remus’s lips makes me queasy.

Remus continues, ‘Caede was apprehended a couple of years ago and died in Azkaban shortly thereafter. Now, while Greyback would never have dared challenge Caede, it would appear, he’s about to challenge McDougall. He’ll add Caede’s old territory to his own.’

‘You think he’ll succeed then?’

‘Yes,’ he says simply. ‘McDougall’s no match for Greyback.’

Leaning back against him, I shut my eyes, hating the fact that my heart is racing; that Caede still has this much of an effect on me.

‘You all right?’ he asks, his fingers moving slowly through my hair.

‘I’m okay, just tired.’

‘Should get you to bed then.’ I can hear the smile in his voice as he kisses my temple.

But the last thing I want to do is go to sleep with Caede on my mind. Besides, it’s Friday, isn’t it?

‘Can’t go to bed yet,’ I glance at my watch, ‘it’s almost time for Mystery Theatre.’

‘Mystery Theatre?’

‘Yes, I think it’s Inspector Norse tonight.’

He’s laughing at me. I elbow him lightly and turn over so that I’m almost lying on him. He has to hold his mug out of the way so as not to spill tea on me.

‘Shut up. Whenever I’m at home on a Friday night, I listen to it.’

Switching his mug to his other hand, he reaches back and puts it down on the side table. ‘All right.’ He’s still chuckling. ‘We’ll listen.’

His hands sweep my sides, and he shifts beneath me, squaring his shoulders to the arm of the sofa and moving his legs so they are on either side of me. ‘You do realise though, that Mystery Theatre doesn’t start for another twenty minutes.’

‘Interesting, that someone so quick to poke fun would know that bit of information.’

‘Isn’t it though ...’ He raises an eyebrow at me and pulls me up his body and kisses me. Properly kisses me like he did in the kitchen, but this time there’s not errant kettles to interrupt.

His hand in the small of my back making perfectly sure I don’t move, he shifts again. Shifts both me and him, so that both of his feet are on the floor and I am in his lap. A moment later he’s lifting me, walking toward my bedroom. I wrap my legs around his waist and continue kissing him. Can’t stop kissing him. Don’t. Want. To.

My back comes into contact with my bed, Remus moves over me and I instantly find myself tugging at the hem of his jumper, a sudden desperate need to feel the warmth of his skin on mine. A moment later he is on his feet again tugging said blasted jumper over his head and unbuttoning his shirt. I kneel on the edge of my bed and he watches with feral eyes as I undo the clasps of my robes and slip them off my shoulders. They end up on the floor at his feet. A moment later he’s pushing me back to the mattress again, his arm sliding up my back, deftly unhooking my bra. And his hands are warm and rough and I love how they feel ...

‘Simon!’ I hear Mrs Fuller’s shrill voice calling into the night. ‘Simon!’

‘Who’s Simon?’ Remus asks breaking our kiss.

‘Cat,’ I respond quickly, running my hands up his back, pulling myself closer, kissing his shoulder, his neck, any bit of him I can reach.

‘Simon! Simon!’ She’s still calling.

‘It’s nearly midnight,’ I whinge.

‘Yes,’ Remus kisses my shoulder, ‘and apparently, Simon hasn’t come home.’

‘Simon!’ Again.

‘Would you like me to shut the window?’ Remus asks.

‘The window’s open?’

‘Yes ...’

‘Damn it.’

‘What?’ he asks.

Sliding out from under him, I sit up and look around my bedroom. ‘Simon!’

From somewhere atop my wardrobe I hear a soft ‘Brrr .....ow.’ And suddenly two bright eyes are shining back at me from the shadows.

‘Damn it.’

‘What?’ Remus sounds confused. ‘It’s here?’

‘I can’t leave a window open at night without that bloody cat coming in.’

‘Simon! Simon!’ I hear Mrs Fuller on the stairs, followed by the inevitable knock at my door.

‘Just a minute.’ I call through the open window. ‘Remus, would you mind getting him down? I would but ...’ I indicate that while he is only half dressed, I am in nothing but my knickers at this point.

He nods and slides off the bed, grabbing his shirt off the chair and pulling it on but not bothering with the buttons. ‘Cats tend not to like me.’

‘Simon likes everyone.’ But as Remus approaches the wardrobe I hear something I’ve never heard before; I hear Simon growl. There is a brief scuffle but after a small spate of hissing and a few muffled ‘Buggers,’ Remus strides across the room with a black and white furball in his arms. Simon is still grumbling to himself.

When he reaches the front door, I hear Mrs Fuller thank him and apologise wholeheartedly for the intrusion; apparently she hadn’t realised he was still here.

Remus appears in my doorway a few moments later. He unbuckles his belt and is about to slip his shirt off, when he stops, mid-slip.

‘Is there anything else you need me to do? Wrestle a Quintaped? Resuscitate a Niffler? Make you a sandwich?’

I shake my head, no.

‘Glass of water, perhaps?’

‘Nothing!’ I can’t help but laugh. ‘Just put on the wireless and come to bed.’
He grins and walks, no, swaggers back toward me. ‘I love hearing you say that.’

‘What? Put on the wireless?’ Know full well that’s not what he meant.

‘No,’ he says, smiling as he moves over me, kissing my neck, sending those lovely shivers through me again. ‘Come to bed,’ he breathes in my ear.

Oh, I could get used to this ...