45. Chocolate
He opens the door to find her slumped over the table, head cradled in her hands. She doesn't even register his presence until he slides his palms down her arms.
"Rough night?"
"Dementor infestation at a muggle school," she sighs, leaning into his touch. "No one realized until someone over in Muggle Relations caught news five of its teenage students committed suicide in the past month."
Merlin, she looks so beat…
"Then I was correct in my assumption that bringing this over would do you some good."
The confused tilt to her eyebrows smoothes into a sly, if tired, smile when he produces a gold-wrapped slab of Honeyduke's Best from his overcoat pocket. "And here I thought you were terrible at divination."
"Still am," he assures, kissing the top of her head. "Ran into Kingsley at Grimmauld. And after much painful deliberation, I decided you'd need the chocolate more than me."
She smiles for real this time, shaking her head in mock disapproval. "Chocoholic." The word comes out a lovely mix of laughter and speech, and brings a light to her dark velvet eyes that hadn't been there before. Her arms slide themselves around his neck and she teases him with that smile, her lips only just out of his reach.
"Lucky for you, Remus m'love, you'll get to taste it when I kiss you my thanks."
