When I was Nymphadora's age, working for the Order entailed many sleepless nights. I cannot count the times James or Sirius and I kept Death Eaters under survelliance or stood vigil to protect those targeted by them. They are too numerous. I do recall that afterwards, I never felt as drained and sluggish as I have today.
My age is showing, and yet, instead of lying next to the woman I love and drifting off to sleep, I am writing in the journal bestowed on my first day at Hogwarts by the only man who has ever trusted me unreservedly. Albus Dumbledore.
The leather binding has become faded and battered, but the enchanted pages, as promised, have never filled. My affinity to the journal compels me to keep it at hand. I, too, am rather shabby, and yet there are pages of my life still unwritten.
Chronicling the events of my day, once viewed as a chore, is now a pleasure. Nymphadora's love has brought vibrant colour into a world dulled by the pain of loss and disappointment.
I look at her, sprawled uninhibitedly on the bed, and smile. Not a polite smile, used to keep others at a distance. Not a wolfish grin, either, however appropriate that would be considering our recent lovemaking. This is a different smile. One I do not have to see in a mirror to recognise.
It is a smile of joy. Similar to the one that spread across my face when I realised I had true friends at Hogwarts. Comparable to what I felt whenever I stepped onto the King's Cross platform to find my mother waving excitedly, eyes shining with gladness over my return. The emotions that thoughts of friends and family engender are akin but different to my feelings for Nymphadora.
Perhaps it is because we are 'one flesh' as priests say, or she is my 'mate' as the wolf inside me growls contentedly. Regardless, the love we share makes me smile.
Seneca, the Roman philosopher and playwright I have spent many an unemployed hour reading, said, VERUM GAUDIUM RES SEVERA EST— true joy is a serious thing. I believe it is, not in a solemn way, but important, and filled with smiles and laughter.
My thoughts are slowing along with the motion of my quill. If I were writing for posterity, I would force myself to continue this entry, detailing our night duty and the events of this morning. Since I am writing in the manner Dumbledore advised, to gain emotional perspective and celebrate the small wonders of life, I shall leave such an account for another day.
Across the room, a small, unhappy sound tells me that Nymphadora has reached out in sleep and found her lover missing. It will give me great satisfaction to enfold her in my arms and hear her happy sigh. Another Roman friend of mine, Horace, would have approved, saying, DUM LOQUIMUR FUGERIT INVIDA AETAS: CARPE DIEM.
While we're speaking, jealous time flies: seize the day.
A/N: Thanks to the Witches of Eastwick, a term of affection applied to 40/16, cupcakeswirl, and MollyCoddles, three fabulous test readers who encouraged me to write this fic! Why the Witches of Eastwick? The name, because truthfully, all I know is that Susan Sarandon, Cher, and Michelle Pfieffer played the witches, lol. I did find a memorable quote when I went looking, though...(Alexandra)"I don't think that men are the answer to everything. (Sukie) "No." (Jane) "Then why do we always end up talking about them?" :D Thanks again for 'talking' about a fictional man and feel free to toss a Princess Bride quote back--I'm not a witch, I'm your reader!
I had been looking to find a way to express Remus' pov on a regular basis and came up with this medium. The journal entries will be around 500 words each, and will parallel Moonlight and Shadow. I hope readers will enjoy them, and will carpe diem and review!
♥ Added note: This 'entry' corresponds to chapter 9, when Tonks felt the effects of the Up-And-At-Em pills!