Post by OSUSprinks on Sept 1, 2008 0:53:22 GMT -5
Title: The Flowerbox
Rating: E for Everyone
Genre: Fluff??
Summary: Just a bit of nothing, but the best I could think of. I hope you enjoy!
Quitely, he slipped out of bed and out onto the terrace. His gaze fell on the old, wooden flowerbox and he smiled.
"Filius? What are you doing?"
He could still remember the tone of his mother's voice and the way he had cringed upon hearing it.
"What do you think I am doing?"
He remembered praying she would not realize what it was for. She was his mother, after all, which made her old; an idea that made him laugh now.
"It looks like you have got some muggle tools, from who knows where, and are making a box of some kind." She had stood before him, looking down at the hammer. "How close am I?"
He ran a hand across the top of the wooden box, it's paint flaking with age. The small hearts he had painstakingly painted all those years ago were faded, but still visible in the pale moonlight.
"It's a present."
"For Pomona?"
He remembered how surprised he had been and how his mother had laughed. They had talked about his feelings for the Hufflepuff prefect and how he might tell her. She had helped him hold the wood together -though he had insisted on using the muggle tools since he was not old enough to use magic at home.
"Mum, do you really think she could like me?"
With a last glance at the faded flowerbox, Filius turned to look into their bedroom. The moon's blue rays fell across her peaceful face. He remembered his mother's confident answer to his question.
"Of course she could."
"Filius? What are you doing?
His wife barely opened her eyes as he made his way back to bed.
"Just remembering."
He drew her close and held her in his arms as she drifted back to sleep.
"Goodnight Pomona. I love you."
Rating: E for Everyone
Genre: Fluff??
Summary: Just a bit of nothing, but the best I could think of. I hope you enjoy!
Quitely, he slipped out of bed and out onto the terrace. His gaze fell on the old, wooden flowerbox and he smiled.
"Filius? What are you doing?"
He could still remember the tone of his mother's voice and the way he had cringed upon hearing it.
"What do you think I am doing?"
He remembered praying she would not realize what it was for. She was his mother, after all, which made her old; an idea that made him laugh now.
"It looks like you have got some muggle tools, from who knows where, and are making a box of some kind." She had stood before him, looking down at the hammer. "How close am I?"
He ran a hand across the top of the wooden box, it's paint flaking with age. The small hearts he had painstakingly painted all those years ago were faded, but still visible in the pale moonlight.
"It's a present."
"For Pomona?"
He remembered how surprised he had been and how his mother had laughed. They had talked about his feelings for the Hufflepuff prefect and how he might tell her. She had helped him hold the wood together -though he had insisted on using the muggle tools since he was not old enough to use magic at home.
"Mum, do you really think she could like me?"
With a last glance at the faded flowerbox, Filius turned to look into their bedroom. The moon's blue rays fell across her peaceful face. He remembered his mother's confident answer to his question.
"Of course she could."
"Filius? What are you doing?
His wife barely opened her eyes as he made his way back to bed.
"Just remembering."
He drew her close and held her in his arms as she drifted back to sleep.
"Goodnight Pomona. I love you."
