(no subject)

[clumsy_auror]

Distractions are a positive thing.

Books are somewhat helpful, but her attention keeps wandering; the television or music are even less effective. Doing something with her hands is a definite improvement, so Nymphadora's sitting on the couch with a scrap of fabric, a spool of thread, a needle, and her wand in her hand. She's practicing the sewing spells Molly taught her.

As a concession to Bernard's nerves, there's a blanket tucked around her legs, and a cup of tea on the table in front of her.

Comments

[the-woodpecker.livejournal.com]

There are also cookies on the way.

And a cake.

And a pumpkin pie.

Sublimating? Bernard? Never.

"...You said you like oatmeal, right?"

[clumsy_auror]

Her brow furrows, and she cranes her neck to look at the clock. "Oatmeal at two in the afternoon?"

[the-woodpecker.livejournal.com]

"...No, in the cookie."

Duh.

He's got a bowl in hand, already mixing.

[clumsy_auror]

"Oh. Yeah, sure. Cheers."

There's a tiny half-smile on her face as she turns back to the swatch of fabric in her lap.

[young_tmriddle]

Tom knocks as he opens the door. It's been a couple of hours since he got 'Dora's owl asking him to drop by, but he came as soon as could.

"Hullo there, you. What's-" He takes in the blanket and the tea. "-up? Are you not well?"

Worried frown creasing his brow, he sits down on the couch beside her.

[clumsy_auror]

A somewhat mirthless laugh. "Been better. But I'm fine, honestly." Nymphadora rubs her nose, and takes a sip of tea before continuing. "I, uh. I was in hospital yesterday. Had a miscarriage."

[young_tmriddle]

"What?"

Panic flutters in his throat. He has absolutely no idea what to say or what to do. How does one respond? Condolences? Is she in pain? Should he even be sitting here beside her? What if he jostles her?

He should have brought her flowers.

After an awkward moment, he reaches for her hand. "Temple and arch, I'm sorry. Are you alright? I mean, I know that's a bloody stupid question..."

[clumsy_auror]

'Dora holds out her free hand quellingly, and squeezes the one holding hers. "I promise, I'm going to be all right. Really, I'm fine now. I wasn't-- I didn't even know I was pregnant. It was very early days."

[aj_crawley]

I'll see you at the weekend, Bernard's letter had said.

There's the sound of knocking, bookended on each side by the noise of the door creaking open - as though someone couldn't quite decide whether or not to just walk in.

Swaddled in a black overcoat and scarf (and hair still sculpted into the most unlikely shapes by the wind), Crowley sticks his head around the corner, exression slightly set, slightly wary.

I'll see you at the weekend.

As if he'd -

[clumsy_auror]

At the noise, 'Dora turns her head, and her jaw drops.

"Crowley! How--"

[aj_crawley]

"Don't ask," he says, moving a little further into the room. "By which I mean: I don't actually know, but I'll worry about it later."

[clumsy_auror]

The witch scrambles to untangle herself from the covers and stands, hurrying over to Crowley and hugging him, her arms tight around his middle, her nose buried in his chest.

[mnt_mike]

Mike knocks softly on the front door, not wanting to disturb. But then it occurs to him that if Bernard is out of knock-hearing range, that Tonks will have to answer the door. Should she be answering doors in her condition? Should she be on her feet at all? He has no idea, his only experience with miscarriage came from that first season of Melrose Place.

Not taking any chances, Mike carefully cracks open the door.

"Hello?"

[clumsy_auror]

'Dora cranes her neck over the back of the couch, and half-smiles at Mike. "Hey there. Still green, huh?"

[mnt_mike]

"As the day I was hatched."

He says brightly.

"Can I come in? Or should I continue to display with mucho gusto the fact that I was raised in a sewer?"

[clumsy_auror]

"'Course you can come in. How've you been?" She beckons him over to the couch.

[platonicowgirl.livejournal.com]

There's a knock on the door; not too hard, not too soft.

[clumsy_auror]

"Come in," 'Dora says, raising her voice to be heard through the door.

[platonicowgirl.livejournal.com]

Kathleen putters her way in, much as she always does.

Owls don't cross time-space continuums that well.

"Nymphadora! Didn't expect to see you home!"

[a-fell.livejournal.com]

He's late, and he knows he's late, but there was some sort of enormous cock-up and he didn't even get the letter until -

He's late, yes, but he's here.

Aziraphael opens the front door for himself but knocks lightly on the doorframe of the living room. She looks so tired, poor love.

[clumsy_auror]

The witch looks up, blinking. Then she scrambles to her feet and, smiling, catches him in a hug. "Am I ever glad to see you."

[a-fell.livejournal.com]

He presses a kiss to the top of her head, dark hair hiding his own small smile.

"I've missed you, dearest."

His arms are wrapped tightly around her, but not so tight as they would be. Careful.

[talented-biter.livejournal.com]

Sunny doesn't quite know what's going on.

Never stopped her before.

Beatrice maaaay be on Mummy's blanket.

Subtly put there. Sneakily, even.

[clumsy_auror]

'Dora reaches for her tea, and nearly knocks poor Beatrice to the floor. "Oh! Beatric! I didn't see you there, love, sorry about that. How've you been?"

With the appropriate amount of care, Nymphadora sets the doll beside her on the couch, tucking the blanket around her wee legs.

[talented-biter.livejournal.com]

Beatrice informs Sunny's Mummy that she's been very good, but could use a new jacket. A sparkly one.