Lost Moon

hold your eyes
fill up with air
fill up with air
I had a dream I was saying a prayer

Life had been hard for everyone, this last year. Well, more than a year, even, but with all the changes in regime and the regulations and decisions on the muggleborns' treatment, the last year alone had been harder than the last. That school -which he trusted not one bit- and letting them go -which he trusted even less-  seemed to be decisions not made because they were the right thing to do, but because they would bring a positive image to the Ministry. To Andromeda, now a Lestrange. His mother had once admired her, believed her to be a great woman, but Cressida had been disappointed. The point was that things had been more than just a little unpleasant, and the nerves and fear of something violent breaking out had been churning his stomach for months. Things were tense and tension always eventually made something snap if it didn't let up. Nothing, however, seemed to be letting up. It was because of this that Silas had decided they should get out of the country, for the holidays at least. They weren't running anywhere, but they had to get away for a little while. Be happy without reservations. Did it make him feel guilty, while there were so many innocent people suffering? Yes, of course, but there was very little they could do to help those poor people. The end of the school year, for Lufkin students, had meant many days of regaining their energies. Now, they could pick some place nice to catch their breath. Forget, at least for a couple of weeks.

As professors, they made enough money to afford to stay at a nice bed and breakfast. It was kept by a lovely elderly couple, cozy and warm and overlooking the bay. They could have their morning coffee on a terrace, to look over the town and the shining waters. Zach was still sleeping, in the smaller single room they'd gotten for him. The sun was bright, the air was warm, the little town was calm and picturesque and the people were friendly. They may not have spoken the language, but translation charms did work on occasion. English wasn't such a strange concept in Spain. Especially in a town that had a majority of its industry in tourism.

Carrying a tray covered with two cups up tea, a plate with several local types of pastries, and two glasses of juice from the town's very own fruit, he went out to find his husband at their table. Setting down one cup -exactly how Aydrien preferred his tea- he leaned down and kissed him warmly. "Morning, love." Then he took a seat beside him, settling with his own cup of tea -some cream, no sugar- he took a bite of the lighter looking baked goods. He made a pleased sound, chewing happily and holding out the bitten piece of... he wasn't sure of the name anymore? His mind was mostly on standby after a whole year's work. "Try it, A. It's really good."