Feel Again

[Dusty15]

'Feel Again'

by Dusty15

Sometimes he felt as if he was with her just to feel again. Twined fingers and legs touching under tables reminded him that he was alive, he was human, and someone loved him.

But even reminders couldn’t completely keep the tigers inside at bay. He’d lived his life under a cloud of doubts and fears, and no matter how hard he tried to escape them, they were simply a part of him, as much as his calluses and scars. And she said that she understood that, but secretly he thought she’d never fully understand. Only Sirius could, and he was gone now, dead and lost. Sometimes Remus thought it was just as well; no one should have to live locked away in a house that never was truly home.

Grimmauld, for all its horrors, wasn’t half bad, in Remus’ opinion. Its numerous rooms provided ample places to hide and the small bedroom he’d claimed for his own was nicer than any he’d inhabited since graduation. He’d picked it because of the large dormer window that faced out into the overgrown yard. On particularly hot summer days, he’d pry it open and drag a chair up, using the sill as an ottoman with his bare feet dangling outside (the house having been built long before window screens became a convention).

While he’d disliked the fact that he lived in the house rent-free, he’d justified the situation by telling himself he was providing cleaning and cooking in exchange for the room. And it wasn’t like Sirius cared. But now with Sirius gone and the War quickly intensifying, they’d abandoned the old house and he’d moved to the only practical place- to Tonks’ flat in Camden.

It was far from glamorous, but he wasn’t picky. What he missed most was having his own space, but she was generous with him and didn’t interrupt when he went into the little study and shut the door. The best thing about Dora was despite her boisterous personality, she knew when he needed quiet.

That, and he appreciated her restraint when it came to his ‘condition’. It was enough to suffer it once a month and he greatly disliked feeling pitied. She’d quickly learned to let him be for the day after, leaving him a cup of tea on the nightstand and then going about her own business instead of hovering like an over-attentive nurse. It’d been a very long time since he’d wanted any caretaking.

Until now.

He’d woke achy and congested, feeling as if he’d been run over by a lorry. And then that lorry had backed up and run over him once more. He rolled over with considerable effort and squinted at Tonks’ side of the bed. It was vacant and cold; she’d gone to work already.

Rubbing gritty sleep from the corners of his eyes, he sat up and dug in the nightstand for a handkerchief. Unable to find one, he sniffled irritably and swung his feet out of bed, sliding them into his slippers.

With the grumbles and creaking bones of a man twice his age, he shuffled to the bureau, retrieving a handkerchief from his top drawer and tucking a spare into his pajama trouser pocket. He blew loudly, not really able to clear out much congestion and he quickly gave up.

In the kitchen, he fixed himself some tea and then carried it straight back to bed. He was normally the type who abhorred eating or drinking in bed; it made him feel like an invalid. After moons, he purposely moved to the armchair by the window to take his tea. Today, he stacked Tonks’ pillow in front of his own to prop himself up and put his legs back under the covers, tea on a tray in his lap.

Ehh-chkmffff!

He sneezed suddenly, causing his cup to rattle in its saucer. The sound was rather muted with congestion and throaty, resulting in a few subsequent coughs. He sipped some tea to quiet them and took a shaking breath. Bugger the flu.

In that moment, he yearned for Dora to be at his side, her soft hands on his brow or rubbing his back. His heart leaped a little at the realization that this was love, or at least as close to it as he’d allowed himself to get. He’d let Lily fuss over him occasionally, and indulged Madam Pomfrey’s mutters and sighs, but no one outside his own mother was ever allowed a lengthy bedside audience. Now, he wanted one.

He had half a mind to owl her to ask her to skive off work early and come home, but he knew it wasn’t necessary. Instead, he set his tea aside and snuggled back down under the covers, tongue curled back in his mouth to scratch at his irritated throat. With a great congested slurp, he inhaled through his nose as well as he could and settled on breathing through his mouth instead.

Unable to get comfortable as the pressure in his sinuses shifted side to side, he grew frustrated with the congestion see-sawing between leaky nostrils. Tired and thoroughly irritated, he tried lying on his back propped up; a departure from his usual sprawled-on-stomach position. While his nose began to drain a bit, it only irritated his throat further and made his nose itch. Gathering a handkerchief in his hand in anticipation, his head bobbed forward in a volley of sneezes.

Ehh’tchhhmff! Hehhh…ehh’tschtt!

He took a single, shuddering breath, and then,

Hehhh’tshtt!

A series of honking blows followed, culminating with more coughing and a defeated slide down into the pillow.

Finally, with much sniffling and tossing and turning, he managed to doze off, snoring softly. When he woke again, it was near three and he had to have a piss. Reluctant to leave his nest of blankets, he reached an arm out from the quilts to grab his slippers, putting them on under the covers before emerging. Squinting his way blearily to the loo, he paused to get a fresh handkerchief from his dresser and promptly put it to use.

Ehh’tsssht!

He felt as if his head might explode from the pressure. He found some relief from his bladder but little from his nose. Washing his hands, he returned directly to bed, relieved to find his spot under the sheets still warm. He dozed lightly, waking himself every few minutes with a snort of congestion or a small cough. Finally, around five, he heard the flat’s deadbolt being slid open at the front door and he raised his head a little. It was Tonks. Thank Merlin.

He could hear her kicking off her shoes and putting away her mackintosh. She’d see that his coat was still on the coat-stand soon enough.

“Remus?”

Noticed.

“Here,” he croaked.

The bedroom door creaked open and she peered into the dimly lit room.

“Having a kip?” she asked. “It’s rainy out there. Enough to make anyone want to sleep.”

“Got a touch of cold, actually,” he said, rolling onto his back so he could see her partially without actually removing any of his layered blankets.

“Oh, love,” she murmured. “I’m sorry. Been in bed all day?”

“Mhmm,” he said, sniffling. “Bugger it, I’m miserable, Tonks.”

“I’ll fix you some tea and let you rest some more,” she said, moving to go to the kitchen.

“Actually,” he interjected. “I’m set on tea.”

“Well then I’ll let you go back to sleep,” she said, starting to shut the door.

“Tonks?”

She turned back towards him.

“Will you stay with me, actually? Just for a bit.”

She smiled.

“Yes, yes of course. Let me get into something that isn’t Auror robes, though.”

Coming into the room and shutting the door behind her, she dropped her work robes over the armchair by the window and dressed in track paints and an old jumper.

“Yuck,” she said, sitting to remove her socks. “I need new Wellies. Mine appear to be leaking.”

She dropped the wet socks on the window sill above the radiator to dry.

Errhhh’gksttt!

In bed, Remus tried to stifle a sneeze that still managed to get out, raw and throaty.

“Oh, Remus,” Tonks said, climbing into the covers beside him. “Love, that sounds awful.”

She put a hand on his brow and he closed his eyes at the touch, relaxing. The other hand reached across him for a handkerchief from atop the nightstand and she carefully dabbed a bit of congestion from his nose.

“You’re good at this,” he said, leaning into her hand as she massaged his scalp.

“Well, if you’re going to let me play nursemaid, I might as well put some effort in,” she chided, teasingly. “You should have owled me at work.”

“I didn’t want you to worry,” he said, swiping the side of his hand across his drippy nose.

“You’re practically down and out with flu,” she said. “Of course I’d worry, but more importantly, I want to help you get better. A bit of time off work is worth that.Now, c’mere.”

She shifted so he could lie against her chest, her arms around him. She rubbed gentle circles across his back and he took a great, sniffling breath, releasing all his tension and completely relaxing. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so entirely vulnerable.

“Get some sleep, Remus,” she whispered. “I’ll be here.”

This was love. He could feel again. For now, all was at peace.

[Morgancer]

Wow! This is incredibly well written and you nailed the characters! Beautiful.

[Spoo]

Awwwwww. I love your HP stuff, Dusty. Especially when it involves poor Remus. Fantastic little fic!

[LovelyLinda]

Awwww great fic!

I love how you characterize them

They've got such a cute relationship <3

[stargazer]

Great fic.

[Dusty15]

Thanks, everyone!

[Cloud Dancing]

Just wanted to add in my two pennies....I absolutely love this. Love the pairing as it is...Remus and Tonks are just so...normal in thier abnormality...but you write them so beautifully it makes them even better!