Oliver Wood (startingkeeper) wrote in unloading_zone, @ 2010-07-13 17:26:00 |
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Entry tags: | nymphadora tonks, oliver wood |
Who: Nymphadora Tonks and Oliver Wood
Where: Bungalow #9
When: Backdated to Friday, July 9
What: Splinter removal is a team effort
Status: COMPLETE!
Tonks was tired. She'd been up half the night fretting and being upset before finally falling asleep at two or so. Percy was an annoyingly early riser and he woke her up every single morning
when he walked through the living room. Tonks still refused to sleep in the same room as Snape. She didn't care what Harry said either. Snape couldn't be trusted.
Halfway through cleaning her fourth bungalow, Tonks decided to take a nap. She picked one bed and then the next. The second bed had a comforting smell to it. Resting her head on the pillow, Tonks
closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep.
--
Oliver needed to buy gloves. It was the only solution to the ever- present splinter problem. Until he could scrounge up enough coins to purchase the gloves he wanted (he would need a few more days of savings before being able to afford them), he would need to do precisely what he was doing now; wait until it was really unbearable and go home to pick them out with his newly bought tweezers.
Only there was someone in his bed. Not that Oliver needed the bed to use the tweezers, but there was someone in his bed. She wasn't one of his roommates either - Bellatrix was very easily recognisable and this woman was definitely not George. Grinning at the back of the woman's head, finding the situation incredibly amusing, Oliver approached the bed, careful not to make the old floorboards creak, intent on keeping his presence a secret until the last possible moment.
"Goldilocks, wake up," he whispered eventually. "Did you eat my porridge and sit in my chair as too?"
--
Tonks was an incredibly light sleeper. The whisper sounded like a bull horn to her and she bolted up, swinging her fist and connecting with Oliver's shoulder. "Shite!" It took her a moment to
remember where she was and Tonks took a deep breath to calm herself down.
"Bloody hell, I'm sorry!!" She knew she could throw a good punch and hoped she didn't hurt the bloke. "Sorry, sorry. Is this your bed? I was trying for George's."
--
Oliver had no idea what was coming and wasn't prepared for the punch, though once it landed, he did turn at the hip. While it took lessened the impact somewhat, the punch had landed true and the woman clearly had a very good arm. "Ow! Jeez, lady! I'm sorry! Ow." Oliver rubbed at his shoulder, resisting the urge to peek under his shirt to check the progress of the bruise he was sure was already starting to form beneath the surface of his skin.
"Yeah, it's my bed. I didn't mean to startle you, I was just- amused, I guess. I thought it was- Hey! You're... you look familiar." Oliver hadn't let go of his shoulder yet, but he forgot about it. It still throbbed a little, but that was relegated to the back of his mind while he tried to place where he had seen her face before.
--
"I'm sorry! That was an accident." Tonks did feel bad. She generally didn't punch people unless they deserved it. And this bloke didn't seem like he deserved a punch.
She wasn't use to people she didn't know recognizing her. The last few years had been comprised of a very small group of people. "I do? I don't think I know you, mate." Sticking her hand out, she
smiled.
"Wotcher. I'm Do- Tonks."
--
"It's fine. I deserved it for waking you up like that." It was true. He could've just let her sleep. "I'm Oliver," he said, shaking her hand. "Tonks. OH! You're the pink-haired lady!" How many nights had Oliver tossed and turned in his bed, mourning the pink-haired lady whose name he hadn't known until far after the fact. The pink-haired lady who'd saved his life and died in the process and who, it now turned out, didn't give a Snitch about being thanked, particularly by him. But how could he not? How could he go on with his life without acknowledging what she had done for him? Though of course he supposed it was completely understandable, not wanting to be reminded you
died, not wanting to be thanked for dying, not wanting to be mourned by the person whose fault it was that you were dead in the first place. But that wasn't what Oliver wanted to thank her for - he wanted to thank her for saving his life, wanted to apologise for having followed her advice; maybe, just maybe, if he'd gone along with her, she would still be alive in his time. Maybe she wouldn't have died. Maybe they could have killed Bellatrix Lestrange together.
But she didn't want to be thanked, didn't want his apologies, and after so long wanting to say only that to this woman, this fantastic woman who had saved his life and given hers in exchange, Oliver didn't know what else to say. "You don't know me yet. But that's alright."
He nodded and then gestured over to the bed with a tilt of his head. "You can go back to sleep. I won't both you anymore, I just came for my tweezers."
--
Reaching up to touch her hair, Tonks frowned a bit. She missed her hair. "Um. I was once? Sorry, but how do you know me?" There only so many months between her depature from the real world and her
death. Maybe a year at the most.
Tweezers? Why did he need tweezers? There was no way she was going to sleep now. Some bloke knew her and used tweezers. This was interesting.
--
Oliver's smile was sad but not the least bit stiff as he explained, "We've done this already. On the journals. You didn't want me to thank you for saving my life."
With another smile, a more regretful one this time, Oliver reached behind her for the tweezers he kept near his bed. He saluted with them before turning to the loo where he would painstakingly remove the splinters from his hand. Normally, a man like Oliver might just sit on his bed to do it there, where there was at least a bit of air circulation rather than in the closed off loo, but there was a woman here and it was rude and not to mention a little disgusting, picking bits of wood out of his skin with an audience.
--
Well why did he look so upset?! Tonks didn't do her job for the thanks. It always made her feel uncomfortable when people thanked her. She saved people because it was the right thing to do and not for their gratitude.
As he leaned closer, Tonks caught the smell of outdoors and sweat and sunshine on him. That was her favorite smell. Only people who really lived smelled like that.
"Hey!" Suddenly he was out of the room. Scampering off of the bed, Tonks slid on the rug and nearly fell into the bathroom door. She caught herself (barely) and opened the door without knocking. "Running off so soon?"
--
Oliver had only just sat down on the edge of the bath (which he knew to be dangerous because the thing toppled easily) when she barged in. He couldn't have looked any more guilty if he'd been caught doing something naughty, looking up at her in surprise, his tweezer hand caught immobile on its way to its destination, a long bit of wood that was just barely sticking out of his thumb. He'd heard all the bumping and slipping on the other side of the door before it burst open and he didn't recall there being an obstacle course outside the bathroom door, which made him smile again; she was certainly eager to keep him in her sights...
"What would you have done if I'd been on the toilet just now?" he asked her when he finally caught himself.
--
"Wonder what the hell you needed tweezers for." She paused and then flashed him a cheeky grin. "Unless that's how you pull it out and if so I am SO sorry." Tonks had the ability to laugh and joke with most people. Why should Oliver be any different.
--
Oliver was the very image of shock. "I mean, what if I'd been on the toilet before needing the tweezers?" He shook his head at the audacity of this woman to assume that he would need tweezers to use the loo, very amused despite knowing his pride should have been terribly wounded. It wasn't; this was excellent. He liked banter as much as the next Gryffindor.
"The tweezers," he explained patiently, putting emphasis on his smile and the fact he was not actually upset, "are for the splinters in my hand. I think I've got one or two in my forearm too. See?" Oliver lifted his hand, palm facing her so that she could see the many bits of wood currently embedded into his skin.
--
Tonks sat on the toliet and wrapped her fingers around his wrist. "Nice," she said appreciatively. "That's impressive. I've never met someone with a wooden dick before. You should stop wanking so much." Plucking the tweezers from his other hand, Tonks began to slowly pull out the splinters one by one.
--
Oliver threw his head back to laugh this time, a deep, resonating sound. She was good. But he said nothing of the origin of the splinters, saying instead, "I would, but everyone needs a good wank every now and again."
--
Well she couldn't argue with that!! Tonks grinned happily for a few moments before it occurred to her that she was grinning. "You made me smile. Thank you!"
Staring at his hand, Tonks pulled a long splinter from his thumb. "Does this make me the mouse?"
--
It took Oliver a moment to figure out what she was talking about. "I guess it does." He liked that comparison, and he watched her work on his hand, trying to remember more details from that story. "You're definitely wilier than I am. Also obviously smaller. That also means I owe you a favour or two, doesn't it?"
--
Tonks nodded, not wanting to speak as she sloooooooooowly pulled another splinter out. "You can owe me two more smiles. I want two more smiles at some point in the future."
--
"Wow. With those rates, people must owe you favours for the rest of their lives! Run the other way when they see you coming in case you make them any more indebted to you than they already are." Oliver was bored with looking at the tiny slivers of wood slowly coming out of his hand. They were probably going to be here a while, and he had his other hand and the few splinters in his forearms. "We should make conversation. Or go outside. Can we go outside to do this? I hate... tight spaces like these." And his thighs were going to be cramping up soon from holding most of his weight off of the side of the bath.
--
Tease all you want, but a smile was more than she could hope for lately. Tonks really needed to smile and feel good and if she could get someone to make her smile twice then it would be amazing. "I'm pretty sure we are making conversation. That's what happens when two people talk, mate." She stood up and flashed another smile at him. "I don't mind going outside. I like outside." Tonks linked her arm through Oliver's and tugged him off the bath.
--
"Is that what that is? I've always wondered." Oliver went along, a little surprised at being manhandled but quite fine with it, following Tonks down the stairs. It wasn't as though he could do otherwise without jostling her, what with her grip on his arm not having let up. He wondered if she was planning on pulling another splinter out of his hand as they made their way there, but the pinch of ill-aimed tweezers hadn't come before they made it outside.
"So much better," he breathed as he let the fresh air in. It was sunny out, a beautiful day, not a cloud in the sky and for the hundredth time in the past three days, Oliver wished he'd had his broom with him. And that he could fly it. Oliver took a seat on the second step of the porch, leaving space beside him for Tonks who still had a secure hold of his hand. "Thanks for this." He could've done it himself, but it was already notably less boring with someone else with him.
--
"It's fine," she said with a smile and settled down next to him. "Remus comes home with the worst things in his hands after the moon. And I'm forever tripping and falling into things. So between the two of us, I've become a splinter removing pro." She didn't really want to think about Remus. Tonks pushed him from her mind and focused on Oliver's hand. She felt comfortable around him. She felt comfortable around a lot of people, but more so with Oliver than others. That was a nice change from feeling awkward and unwanted on the island.
"What were you actually doing?" Tonks pulled the last splinter from his right hand and reached for his left to get started on that one.
--
She was far better at plucking out splinters than Oliver was - he kept missing his target and pinching himself when he did it. He didn't know what to say about Remus; he'd been his Defense professor his last year, had been a good man. Oliver had heard that he and the pink-haired lady - that professor Lupin and Tonks - had gotten married, but long after he had known her.
"I'm the wood gatherer on the island," he opted to say instead. Answering her questions would be a lot easier than starting a conversation about her husband, the one who, by all appearances in the journals, didn't remember her at all.
--
"Better than being a maid. That's why I was in your room," she explained and turned his hand slightly to pluck a particularly stubborn splinter from his palm. "I miss being an Auror. Though it's pretty nice not worrying about dying every time I go to work." Stupid splinter. It wouldn't come out. Tonks set the tweezers down and brought Oliver's palm to her hand. Using her mouth to suck the splinter to the surface of his skin, Tonks pulled it out with her teeth. There. She got it.
"So," she said slowly. "What's the world like after I die? I'd be really pissed if it sucked and it was all for nothing."
--
Oliver's attention had begun to waver, attracted to the space between the trees in the distance, but snapped back to the goings-on in his palm when he felt suction there. She was sucking his palm! The pink-haired lady was sucking his hand. Oliver closed his mouth that he'd felt fall open at some point in the last ten seconds during which he'd been staring quite openly at her.
"Uh-" He cleared his throat and blinked away a few images before he could make them out completely. "A maid. That's very different than Auror."
Right, he was staring. He had to stop doing that. Oliver turned his head to face forward. Life after her death. Right. She died. She died, saving him, and was now sucking his palm. This was weird. "It's... the world. No one's tried taking His place yet, which is great. Quidditch still exists. It's pretty good. Lots of Death Eaters die in the Battle, and the rest are caught and sentenced to Azkaban. The Malfoys aren't, though. I don't know how they got out of it, exactly, but it seems like it was on a technicality. ... It's a good place. I wish you could see it."
--
Tonks dropped his hand for a moment and ran a hand through her hair. "Yeah, well. At least there's a world, right? Silver lining and all that." It royally sucked that she died. Tonks hated knowing that she left her son behind, but she had to remember what it was all for. They had known what could happen and saw so many other people die as well. Knowing that they had died for a reason, for a purpose? It almost made up for it. Almost.
"I love Quidditch," she said with a smile. "I'm a big Harpies fan, of course. Do you follow it?"
--
Oliver couldn't help but think that she looked like a Harpies fan; she seemed to have the 'I'm a woman and I'm tougher than you' attitude they promoted.
"Follow it?" Oliver grinned. "I play for Puddlemere United. I'm their Keeper." She wouldn't know about him, of course. He was after her time. Although, he supposed, that was probably a good thing. Far from throwing themselves at him, Oliver remembered people being rather cold to him, mostly. Unhappy that he was replacing the old starting Keeper, the one caught doing all sorts of drugs before games. Seems more than half of the team's fans preferred that bloke high out of his mind to Oliver sober. That didn't matter though. Oliver did what he loved best, who cared what everyone else thought of him?
--
"That's brilliant!" In her excitement, Tonks jabbed Oliver with the tweezers. "I can't play worth a lick. I crash too often." She scooted a bit closer to Oliver and started working on his forearm. Which was very tan and nice. It was sort of hard not to notice "You must miss flying like I miss my morphing. Like you don't feel whole."
A bit of blood appeared on his skin and Tonks frowned. "Did I hurt you?"
--
"OW!" Oliver watched the blood bead on his skin and then looked up at the excitedly speaking Tonks. "Ah-" It had hurt. "No, it's fine." Quidditch was a much more interesting topic anyway. "I miss it more than you know. Or I guess maybe as much as you know. It's... It's everything." Oliver knew that was Wrong. Wrong with a capital W. He'd been told often enough that he had his priorities wrong. That he had let each of those people go, one after the other, in favour of Quidditch, convinced Oliver that he had made the right decision all along, if only because he couldn't stand the thought that he had been wrong, that he had ruined his life with so much ease. "I don't feel right on the ground. I'm not myself. Not as much, anyway. So what's the morphing? Is that what makes your hair pink?"
--
"Mhmm. Pink, orange, yellow, green, long short.. but it's not just my hair. I can change everything about myself. I don't like being this way." She felt too exposed, too vulnerable like people were seeing an incredibly private part of her. Tonks frowned again and dropped Oliver's arm. "There. All done. You now owe me two smiles."
--
She could change everything? Oliver found that peculiar. Did she often change herself so much? In truth, he didn't recall Tonks having so many scars when he'd seen her at the battle in her future. And she'd had pink hair, obviously. That she would change these things about herself even during war, during a battle, had him worried, though he couldn't say exactly why. He supposed it was that she was hiding from something. Or hiding something, though he couldn't tell what. He hadn't noticed anything that he would want hidden, were in he in her place. It did worry him, though he knew it wasn't his place.
"Thanks," he said, retrieving his arm and taking a good look at it, nodding at a job well done. "I'll try to catch you unawares, then. An unexpected smile has to be worth more than a planned one." Oliver rose from the step. "I'll be getting back to work, get a few more splinters before I call it a day. You're free to nap in my bed any time you like."