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[clumsy_auror]

It's been a quiet weekend. More so than usual, Nymphadora reflects, as she methodically changes Anthony's nappy and settles him down for a nap.

Bernard's birthday had been Friday, and that had been a good day -- he'd been his usual self, really. But ever since his conversation with Raph the other evening, he'd been closed off, clearly not telling her everything he had on his mind. Had a weird conversation. Need to mull it over, he'd said.

Well, she thinks, squaring her shoulders slightly and padding down the hall, I think he's probably mulled enough.

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[the-woodpecker.livejournal.com]

He'd been working feverishly in order not to mull it over. Friday was an exception, because there was birthday stuff to distract him. But Saturday morning, 5:30 AM rolled around, and the sun peeked in through the porch door, and his eyes popped open, and he had to work.

He had to.

The old sketchbook, all 200 pages of it, was finally filled, and he cracked open a new one, a proper book this time, no spiral binding, and started to fill that, too.

That's what he's doing now, a smudge of charcoal on his forehead, and a spot of red on each cheek.

Filling.

[clumsy_auror]

He didn't eat much for lunch, either. So 'Dora makes a detour in the kitchen, picking up an apple, a knife, and two glasses of milk.

Silently, she walks out into the living room, and sits down on the coffee table in front of Bernard. Not so easy to ignore that way, she reckons.

"Hi," says Nymphadora finally, and starts cutting the apple into slices, handing him one without asking whether he's hungry.

[the-woodpecker.livejournal.com]

Bernard looks up, a little startled to see her sitting on the table. "Hi." He takes the apple automatically. Then, "'M not hungry. Thanks."

[clumsy_auror]

One eyebrow arches, and she gives him a steady look. "You've hardly eaten a thing since Friday. Whatever it is that's eating you won't be easier to deal with if you don't eat."

[the-woodpecker.livejournal.com]

His eyes narrow. "Oh, ha, ha. Very clever. Did you rehearse that?"

Lashing out. Not the best tactic ever.

[clumsy_auror]

Her hand, halfway to her mouth with an apple slice, freezes, and her expression hardens. "Really, Bernard? Would you perhaps care to rephrase?"

[the-woodpecker.livejournal.com]

His hand clenches around the charcoal pencil.

He bites the inside of his reddening cheek.

"I'm not hungry right now. Thank you."

[clumsy_auror]

"Right," his wife replies flatly, and takes a long swing of milk. "So is this the part where I remind you about all the times you yelled at me for not telling you my problems, or does that come later?"

[the-woodpecker.livejournal.com]

Bernard flinches, at that.

"I don't even know how to start without sounding completely stupid."

[clumsy_auror]

A sigh. Nymphadora puts down the apple, and smooths her hand gently back and forth on Bernard's thigh. "I don't expect it to be all worked out in your head, you know. I wanna help you."

[the-woodpecker.livejournal.com]

His lips quirk wryly. "Are you my shrink now?"

[clumsy_auror]

"No, you arse. I'm your wife. I'm just-- you're really worrying me, sweetheart."

There's tension written in the lines all over her face. It's so rare for him to hold something back.

[the-woodpecker.livejournal.com]

Bernard stares at her for a second, his eyes big, then suddenly pitches his sketchbook and pencil across the couch and hauls her onto his lap, burying his face in her neck.

He can't look her in the eye when he talks about this.

Because he does need to talk about this.

[clumsy_auror]

She's a little startled, but her arms go around him immediately, hands smoothing over his back and carding gently through his hair.

"It's all right, love," she murmurs," kissing his temple. "Whatever it is, we'll sort it out, okay?"

[the-woodpecker.livejournal.com]

"No," he replies shakily. "We won't. Or, I don't see how we will. I-- You know how I have always felt, about making bombs for the Order and the Ministry."

[clumsy_auror]

She tenses, almost imperceptibly.

Hesitantly, "Well-- yes and no. I mean, that's sort of the one thing I've always been a bit reluctant to bring up with you. 'Cause of... I don't know. One thing or another."

[the-woodpecker.livejournal.com]

"It's..." He breaks off, unsure how to proceed. "It's something I don't, actually, bring up with myself." There's a pause, again, as he shuts his eyes and breathes her in.

"Because it's business in the bar."

[clumsy_auror]

"No it isn't," she replies automatically, her voice wavering just a bit. "It isn't, it's not like you set them off in the bar, it's--"

[the-woodpecker.livejournal.com]

"Yes. It is." His voice is harsher than he intends. "I conduct outside business while sitting in the middle of the bar, and I'm the Barman. And it's something I gloss over, because I choose to. But it's not something I can just ignore when somebody I like, somebody I respect, calls me on it."

[clumsy_auror]

And now Nymphadora's the one who's flinching.

She pulls back, suddenly pale. "Raph."

[the-woodpecker.livejournal.com]

"Who else?"

[clumsy_auror]

Nodding woodenly, Nymphadora slides off his lap and picks up the remains of her snack, heading for the kitchen. No point in looking at him right now; her eyes are already red.

"It's all right, I understand." Nymphadora put the dishes in the sink. "I'll-- I'll talk to Allbright tomorrow, tell him the team'll have to move on without your input. I think they've got a handle on it now anyway," she finished, knowing she wasn't being entirely truthful about the last bit and not caring.

[the-woodpecker.livejournal.com]

He's right behind her, his arms snaking around her, stilling her hands.

"I don't want to stop."

[clumsy_auror]

"I don't see how you can keep going," she whispers, staring into the sink. "I understand. It's okay. You've done so much already."

[the-woodpecker.livejournal.com]

Bernard turns his face into her hair, hiding red-rimmed eyes. His shaky hands twine with hers over her stomach.

"Listen to me. Where do you think my loyalty lies right now?"