dream-pad

More than you could know

Originally posted by forever-proud-nerd


 

Your eyes fluttered open, from the few hours of light sleep that you had managed to steal, in between the chatting and cuddling, that newt and yourself were able to squeeze into the night.  The soft sunlight leaked through the curtains and lit the bedroom with a cosy glow.

You stretched your arm out behind you to try and find your tall husband, but you only found the soft, still warm sheets. You breathed a sigh of relief, he couldn’t have left yet. You placed a gentle kiss to the top of your daughters head. She had snuck into yours and Newt’s bed at some point through the night. you flung yourself out of the welcoming bed, being careful not to jostle the it too much, so your child could go on dreaming, of whatever her heart desired. You padded across the plush carpet to the cool tile of the bathroom, you stood in the door way simply admiring the sight before you. Newt stood with his bare freckled back to the door, staring intently at his reflection as he shaved his angular face.

You studied his back like a map, the peaks of his shoulder blades giving way to the valley of his spine, the freckles sprinkled so perfectly across the expanse of his pale skin along with the occasional scar, faded from raw pink to white over time.

His soft voice pulled you from your thoughts, ‘I can’t concentrate when you stare at me like that, love’ a smile spread across your face. You stepped away from the door frame and snaked your arms around his slender waist, resting your forehead between his shoulder blades. “well you are rather nice to stare at Mr Scamander’ you mumbled into his back.

He let out a chuckle before rinsing his now clean shaven face, you handed him the fluffy towel from the rail.

Newt turned around to face you and pulled you into him, he rested his chin on the top of your head as you nuzzle into his chest, constantly listening to his strong even heart beat, you felt a small hand patting at your thigh. You let out a light chuckle as newt picked up your one year old daughter, she clasped her chubby arms around her father’s neck, he placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. His sea foam eyes brimming with tears, he had taken a year off from the field, staying at home to write his book, he would occasionally go on day trips around England if the need called for it, but this would be his first week long trip since poppy was born.

You gave him a reassuring smile as you cupped his face in your hand. “it’s not long, sweetheart, you’ll be back in our arms in no time’ you tried to ease his worries, attempting to push your own down at the same time. He gave you a weak smile ‘I’d best finish getting dressed, I can’t very well go hunting for beasties half-dressed can I?’ he said as he booped poppy’s button nose, she giggled gleefully at her father. Before he handed her back to you, he slipped his shirt over his shoulders, along with his waistcoat and finally his jacket. You straightened his bowtie, he always did tie it a little crooked. You were sure that he did it on purpose, just so you could fix it.

You walked newt to the front door, poppy still on your hip, her fingers tangled in your soft hair. Newt wrapped you both up in his arms, breathing in your scent,’ we’ll be right here waiting for you when you get back, we’ll mi’ he cut you off with a deep kiss, it was also a promise, a promise that he would come back, that he would miss both of you every moment that he was not by your side.

He slowly let you go with a kiss to both yours and poppy’s foreheads, ‘I love you both so much, more than either of you could ever know’ with that he took a slight step back, admired you for a moment and disapperated.

 

Have a great day and be safe

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Sleepwalking was common after the war. No matter how the prefects would soothe the foreheads of anxious second-years once again afraid of the dark, no matter the amulets anxious parents hung around their surviving child’s neck, every other night quiet, dreaming feet would pad down winding staircases and across the stone floors of the castle. Sometimes they would talk or cry in the empty Great Hall. Sometimes their magic would go haywire and strong winds would gust through the corridors.

The castle, however, would always do its best to protect them, just has it had during the war. None of the sleepwalkers ever got caught in a trick stair, or wandered to close to a crumbling ledge where spells had blasted the stone wall away. None of them was ever forced to wake up in the dungeons where they and their friends had once been tortured. Hogwarts led them to secret courtyards with trickling waterfalls, or armchairs in front of a glowing fireplace, or the humming stained glass windows in one of the music parlors, as if to say, when they awoke, “See? You’re safe here now.”

(photo:Willy Vanderpere)