godricgal: (AU is THE U)
[personal profile] godricgal
From the drabble meme, here is my first, for [livejournal.com profile] drumher, who requested Teddy and Remus with the prompt 'bedtime'.

Imaginatively titled, Bedtime, and rated PG, you'll find it, not quite at drabble length, beneath the cut.

Bedtime


Bedtime has never been a mundane affair at the Lupin household, though naturally, with a nine month old child in the picture the chain of events run somewhat differently to the routine they'd established early on in their marriage -- not, Remus thinks, the image of his wife's naked body flickering in his mind's eye (as it is wont to do on occasion), that they don't still do fairly well in that department.

While Dora prepares for bed by undoing in her magic the mask she wears by day, Teddy invariably prefers to mark bedtime with a string of morphs that seem to be a reflection of the day. Tonight, in the bath, he sports a shock of downy pink hair, as Tonks has done all day, though in more robust and vibrant spikes, until Remus brings out the rubber duck, and within seconds, Teddy and his bath mate are a matching pair. He's Weasley red and gurgling happily while Remus slips on a babygrow of pale powdery blue; grass green as Remus reads the tale of Gwynod, the Welsh Dragon, the shade perfectly matching the grinning, and friendly-looking dragon on the cover of the book.

Where other children learn to imitate sounds, Teddy is learning earlier the tricks of his talent in the mimicry of colour. Those beautiful blue eyes never change, though; as Remus is watching Teddy's lids grow heavier with sleep and tiny baby fingers loosen their grip on the light blanket that covers him, Remus hears, from behind him, a sigh that echoes his own sense of contentment.

"It's amazing watching you two together." Dora's voice is but a whisper in his ear.

"I love him so much. I--" He's frequently at a loss to describe how this feels. 'This' being fatherhood, finding himself so much more of a family man than he'd ever thought to dream.

"I know." She reaches for his hand and for a few minutes, they watch their little boy sleep, his chest rising and falling so gently. And then they retreat, leaving the door ajar, and warm light spilling in from the landing.

When they're safely in the bathroom and out of baby earshot, Remus turns the taps on then puts his arms around his wife and tells her how much he loves her, too. They forgo the rubber duck, and instead tell each other stories of their day: Remus of the visit from George, his voice as bright as the red of his hair and his eyes dull as the winter clouds of the rainy day; Tonks, more cheerfully, of Kingsley's latest project, which might soon mean Remus has a choice in whether he remains a stay at home father. Though, at this point, the freedom of choice means far more in theory than in might do in practice because if domestic bliss exists, then this is it, and he can think of no reason to change it.

They've been through a lot -- but who, in this post-war world, hasn't? -- and life now seems easy, though he doesn't take it for granted, that would not only be foolish but dull the joy it brings him. He's a son who is a source of pride that is sometime so strong it seems his chest will burst, a young and beautiful wife who whispers of her love in the dark and shouts it in the light.

It's two o'clock in the morning when Remus is awoken by the soft cries of a sleepy baby; Dora stirs beside him but he quickly hushes her and slips out of bed. It's not strictly because Dora has a shift early in the morning that Remus rushes to Teddy's side to calm the cries that have increased slightly in pitch and volume, though it is a factor; but when Teddy's small body is gathered in his arms, sleep warmed and red faced, Remus knows he can calm him, and they'll pace gently round the room with a rocking step; he might sing softly. It won't be long before Remus will place Teddy back into his cot, pull the blanket up loosely around his little body, and then he'll slide back into bed, fold his arms around his wife, sink like a sigh into the contours of her body beside him and the mattress below him, and it'll be as though he's had bedtime all over again.

The End
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March 2011

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