October, 1995...
-
This is the third entry I've made today. I believe that's a record.
I have written down events and thoughts more than once on certain days. There is no set pattern to my journaling. Many days have no entry, simply because they were unremarkable. A few, dark times in my life are so ingrained in memory that I don't need to read words to recall them vividly. In fact, words could not express the tragedy of them, or the depth of my grief.
Today is unique in another way. I've never scratched out my thoughts in an attic before. I wouldn't be writing these words now, sitting on the floor with my back against a trunk, if it wasn't for Nymphadora.
I brought my lover up to the attic to break it to her gently that I cannot allow her to be with me on full moons anymore. Every time she engages the blood magic that binds us together, there is a real chance that I will drain her vitality...perhaps even take her life.
Call me a man with a 'furry little problem', or call me a monster, but I am not a parasite. I will not risk harming the woman I love, who lies sleeping within the containment circle even as I write.
Nymphadora sleeps because the heat of our argument sparked another type of fire, a passionate expression of love that endures regardless of differences. If I had not spent the day recovering from the change, I too would be asleep.
Observing the way the lengthening shadows play across her skin, she makes me wish I could sketch and somehow capture the beauty of her form. The graceful lines and sleek curves of her back, her arms, her breasts. The little smile that curves her lips, the heart shaped face and pixie spiked hair are all things which words alone cannot do justice.
If words fail to describe her tangible qualities, how can they hope to portray the intangible?
The quality that worries me most is her stubbornness. She jokes about it, says she has a hard head so when we disagree, butt heads, it won't hurt our relationship. My love is a strong-willed woman. Her stubborn determination is part of her forceful nature, part of the reason I find her irresistible.
Nevertheless, what happens if she refuses to accept that I will not allow her to endanger herself? If she is an irresistible force, am I an immovable object? If I am equally resolved to have my way in the matter, what happens when an irresistible force meets an immovable object?
Muggle science would state that the situation is not possible. It is illogical. A force that cannot be resisted and an object that cannot be moved are unable to exist in the same universe.
Yet they do.
Will our opposing views about blood magic cancel each other out? If neither of us moves on our stance, can we find some way to mutually surrender?
I don't know.
The situation reminds me of a song I heard long ago, when one of Sirius' Muggle girlfriends coerced a group of us into watching her favourite film on telly. While others chatted or slipped out of the room for a snog, I found myself tapping my foot to the songs in the musical. One in particular struck me. It described the sort of girl I found inexplicably attractive, a young woman like the one who will soon be sleeping in my arms.
Ironic that the catchy tune fits my situation.
Oh, how do you solve a problem like Nymphadora?
How do you hold a moonbeam in your hand?
-
-
A/N: Yes, the film Remus watched was the Sound of Music, the quote from the song 'Maria' about a very plucky, Tonks-ish girl. :D Thanks everyone who reviewed last chapter and cheered me up after my computer crashed. It turned out to be the system board instead of the hard drive, so I have it back...and all programs are still there! Hooray! Thanks again...♥ 40/16 ♥ adrienne06052 ♥ alix33 ♥ Calenmarwen ♥ ElspethBates ♥ Embellished ♥ Fauzia ♥ Freja Lercke-Falkenborg ♥ GraceRichie ♥ ishandtwofourths ♥ Kileaiya ♥ Ladyofthebookworms ♥ LolaCherryColaGirl ♥ MollyCoddles ♥ Moontime ♥ Nethiel Nessime ♥ Operamuse ♥ rillie ♥ RahNee ♥ Shannon ♥ siriuslycoco ♥ Slipknot-3113 ♥ Sophia Loren ♥ and ♥ sunny9847 ♥