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A Cup Of Tea
Ernie plodded down the street, sighing to himself when he saw Arabella peering out of the window towards Privet Drive. This was how he found her almost every time he came home, and he hated the worry he saw constantly etched on her face. He let himself in the house, hanging up his coat before entering the living room. She glanced his way when he walked in, smiling at him in welcome.
He had been living with her for three years now, though of course, the muggles who lived in the surrounding houses had no idea. Padding to the kitchen, he leant down to stroke the ginger cat lay across the doorway. Before he moved in with Arabella, he had never been fond of cats, but living in a house with five of them had made him learn to love them.
"Do you want a cup of tea," he called, knowing the answer, but asking the question anyway. This had turned into a ritual of sorts for the two of them, and he was loath to break it.
"Yes please, and some biscuits. I'll light the fire," she replied.
It would be easier if she let him light the fire, with a wave of his wand it would be done after all, but she always refused. She had taught him to live, not without magic, but in spite of it. Almost automatically, he made the tea manually, and when he helped her clean up, he did it without magic. She had taught him that magic was a luxury, not a god given right to abuse.
Carrying the tray into the living room, he smiled softly as he watched her sitting in front of the fire, poking the small flames with a poker. She never looked more beautiful to him than when she was lighting them a fire. He didn't know what it was, perhaps the concentration on her face, the way she would stick her tongue out of the corner of her mouth, or the way she would smile when the fire roared, always happy when it worked first time.
They sat in silence for a while, until she joined him on the two seat sofa in front of the window. They rarely turned the tv on, preferring each others company, be it talking or sitting comfortably silent. She was worrying her bottom lip, and he sighed again.
"Are you still worrying about the little Potter boy?" he asked gently, taking her hand in his own.
She nodded, glancing behind her, to where she had left the curtains slightly parted, in the direction of Privet Drive once more.
"Do you want me to fetch Dumbledore?"
"And tell him what? I don't know that there's anything going on, anything untoward. I just have a...a bad feeling about that family."
"I've never known your intuition to be wrong before, Bella. Has Harry said anything when he comes around?"
"He barely say's anything, that's part of the problem. I shouted him from the kitchen today, and when I came back in the lounge, he was looking around like he was confused. I don't think he know's Harry is his name, Ernie."
She sighed and leant back into his embrace, shaking her head.
"He's five years old, but, I don't know. He doesn't act like he is, you know. Anyway, Dumbledore will be here for a report next week. I'll tell him of my concerns. How was work?"
"Work was fine, love. You know how it is on that bus, gossip all day long. Them old women, they'll be the death of me, I tell ya," he joked, poking her gently in the side. She chuckled, waving his hand away.
"Now, now Ernie, there's no need for talk of that nature. Us ladies don't gossip, we share information."
"Yeah, right, and I'm a hippogriff."
"I thought there was something different about you, but I didn't think it was anything that different. Perhaps I need a new eye prescription," she muttered, a mirth in her eyes that made him laugh.
"Ah, Bella, I love you, you know that don't you?"
"Of course I know that, soft sod. I love you too."
Kissing her husband gently, she sat forward, taking hold of the two cups of tea on the table. Handing Ernie his, she sat back enjoying the warmth the fire was letting off.
This was what life was all about. Sitting in front of the fire with the person she loved most in the world, enjoying a cup of tea. She was happier than she ever thought she could be, and she wondered what she had done to deserve such a wonderful man as Ernie, but whatever it what, she hoped she kept on doing it.