A/N: Written for Common Room Prompts (moon, beloved, help, broken glass/mirror) for Hogwarts Online.
Disclaimer: As always, I own only the plot.
Broken Glass and Throwing Plates
The glass smashed on the floor between us, shattering into a thousand piece that glittered like diamonds.
It was always bad at this time of the month, the moon waxing towards full. The fights got worse and he stormed around the house, raging that I had tricked him into marrying me, that we shouldn't be together at all, let alone expecting a child.
I had mostly learned to block it out – these were the exact same arguments he had used before we got engaged, after all – but somehow, today, it was impossible. Our fights had always been loud, with shouting and yelling and crying, but we never threw things, never. That's what scared me: this sudden departure from normality, from the comfortable tandem of our relationship.
It scared me, rocked me to my core, even though, as I processed the broken glass, the scratches along the wall and Remus, standing opposite me, breathing hard, I had already worked out why this was happening.
It was almost as if all this was a physical reaction to his impending transformation. I knew the potion he had stored was running low, had been for a while, but now it must have been completely used up. It was the only thing that made sense; the only thing that could make my beloved husband act like such a monster, throwing glasses around the kitchen and scratching at the walls.
I figured that, realistically, I had three options:
1) I could completely ignore that fact that my marriage was breaking down and just go to bed, trying desperately hard not to think about it.
2)I could throw something back and see what happened.
3) I could cry and shriek and sob at him and hope that he felt sorry for me.
None really seemed very attractive, but option two seemed like my best choice: one and three weren't really my style.
I turned away, towards the cabinet behind me, breaking eye contact for the first time, and picking up the first thing that my fingers touched. It was a teacup of thin bone china; my mother, bless her soul, had given us a whole set as a wedding gift. It had never even been used...Oh well, it's not as if it ever would have been, and this was for the greater good.
I hurled the cup at the opposite wall where it smashed against the back door. Remus blinked at me owlishly, then grinned, wolf-like, before throwing a plate at me.
I threw another teacup. He threw another plate. Cup. Plate. Cup. Glass. Tea tray. It went on for a while, until I threw the teapot and missed my target. It landed on the seat of the kitchen chair, punching an almost perfectly circular hole in the wood. I screamed and stamped my feet, annoyed at my utter incompetence more than anything else, as Remus doubled over and collapsed into giggles interspersed with sniffles and racking sobs.
"Please, Remus, just let me try and help you," I whispered, tears beginning to stream down my face too.
He continued to shake, half-laughing, half-crying, even as he pulled me close. I clung on hard, harder than normal, frightened this moment would be far too fleeting, and brushed my lips against his.
We both sighed, contented, and I smiled for the first time in what felt like forever. It had been so long since we had been so in-tune with each other, so long since we had been on the same page. It was nice to know we were headed in the same direction again, nice to know things could, maybe, be something vaguely like normal again.
"You don't need to try and help me, Dora," he murmured against my skin. "You just need to be willing to throw another teapot at me every now and again. It does much the same job."
I felt him smile as my own features broke into a grin. I hated fights, but loved making up again afterwards; it was its own special kind of magic, one that didn't need wands. One that didn't need spells or incantations. Just one that needed love, and let you forget all about the broken glass you left lying on the floor.