[She'll wait. The windows are open, and he may find it too cold - she can never tell - but the sounds of music drift from her apartment.
They may or may not be heard over the commotion from the brothel around the corner. And the men fighting downstairs. Apparently brothels are busy this time of year. Who knew?]
[Keeps himself muffled and managed to slip past such commotion untouched. In the front hallway, he shakes off the damp and unwraps himself-and magically locks the door. He doesn't tell her he does that, and if she knows she hasn't complained so far. All this accomplished, he trees his scarf and coat and calls,] Io?
[He'll feel something square and slightly crinkling pressed into his palm. It's a small box wrapped in ribbons. Unopened so far, and the tag reads 'To R.J. Lupin, c/o Miss Iolanthe, From B & M']
[So wishes had been granted… his hadn't, he hadn't expected it to be. He began to unwrap it, wondered what agenda there might be for taking requests and fulfilling-
Thoughts full stop.
The ribbons and empty box fall to the floor.
He stares at the gift in his hand.
His other hand gropes behind him, mercifully find a chair, and he shakily sits in it.
His eyes drink in the photograph. They get so full they begin to fill with tears.
He raises them to Io. The look in them is… indescribable.
She's seen him cry before-far more often than he'd prefer-but she's never seen that look before.
That blinding, unbelieving joy.
His voice shakes and breaks and sounds like… magic.]
[for a second seems like it might be sobbing-but no, no, he's quite definitely laughing. Those clever terrifying twins. This damn verhuddling world. He loves it more than he ever thought possible.
He stands from the chair, grabs her nearly off her feet, and gives her one of the deepest kisses she's ever received.
Into her cheek, laughing still harder, he says like an invocation of a spell, to her, to the Twins, to the force of creation of every world that is and could be:] Thank you. Thank you.
[From the photo-which in another minute he'll enchant with every protective invulnerability spell he owns-Harry and Ginny, Ron and Hermione, all grown up, clearly together, radiatingly happy, surrounded by children with amalgams of their features, smile and wave and tell him that absolutely everything was completely worth it.
Through hers, his wish had been granted after all.]
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Maybe~
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They may or may not be heard over the commotion from the brothel around the corner. And the men fighting downstairs. Apparently brothels are busy this time of year. Who knew?]
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I'm here.
[She steps toward the hall, hands behind her back and filled with something square and bright.]
You were quick.
[Hovers just out of sight, waiting for him to move into the parlor.]
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You said urgent.
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I have something for you.
[Pauses. Thinks.]
You should close your eyes and hold out your hands?
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[Her ton is light]
That box. For ...wishing? I wished for this...
[And she gestures toward the phonograph.] It was that piece, that Quatre played on the network.
[Another smile.]
I also asked for something. On your behalf?
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Thoughts full stop.
The ribbons and empty box fall to the floor.
He stares at the gift in his hand.
His other hand gropes behind him, mercifully find a chair, and he shakily sits in it.
His eyes drink in the photograph. They get so full they begin to fill with tears.
He raises them to Io. The look in them is… indescribable.
She's seen him cry before-far more often than he'd prefer-but she's never seen that look before.
That blinding, unbelieving joy.
His voice shakes and breaks and sounds like… magic.]
You asked for this?
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I.
I asked for one of the moving photographs. The ones you'd described to me?
[Dipping down, crouching in front of him, head tilted. Blinking again.]
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He stands from the chair, grabs her nearly off her feet, and gives her one of the deepest kisses she's ever received.
Into her cheek, laughing still harder, he says like an invocation of a spell, to her, to the Twins, to the force of creation of every world that is and could be:] Thank you. Thank you.
[From the photo-which in another minute he'll enchant with every protective invulnerability spell he owns-Harry and Ginny, Ron and Hermione, all grown up, clearly together, radiatingly happy, surrounded by children with amalgams of their features, smile and wave and tell him that absolutely everything was completely worth it.
Through hers, his wish had been granted after all.]
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