He's surprisingly good with his hands.

It makes sense, considering his quidditch background, but it's not something that she'd expect from a lanky boy who's all angles and wide grins.

But one day he fixes their uneven kitchen table – the Muggle way – because they're cooped up in this small house and it gives him something to do. She knows that he feels useless – god knows that she does – but it's hit him especially hard. He was always the one on the frontlines, never one to hide, but now he has to hang back. They both have to hang back. Because they have a baby – fuck, she never thought she'd be twenty years old and saying that – and they have to keep that little boy safe. Because in the few months that they've had a son, he's become their world without their realizing.

So over the days, and then the weeks, and then the months, it becomes a routine as her husband fixes every crack, tilt, dent, and creak in the house. She watches him sometimes, when the baby is asleep and there's nothing good on the telly. Or even when there is something good on the telly. Call it cabin fever but it has reached the point where she cannot resist looking on as takes the broken and downtrodden into his hands and brings them back to life, whistling tunelessly as he works and clicking his tongue whenever he's in deep thought. And so she just watches him until he catches her gaze and he winks knowingly because how could he have not noticed this odd fascination of hers? How could he have not noticed the amount of times her gaze has followed his hands or the numerous occasions that she has threaded her fingers through his simply because she likes to be enclosed in his hands. Hands that are warm and quick and healing and safe.

And so he sees her watching him, just as he has so many other times, and he makes her wait like he always does – taking sweet his time to sand the back door or touch up the paint in the living room or tighten that leaky faucet.

And he wears a smug grin the entire time because he likes to make her wait for it.

And then he's pushing her on the bed, his hands touching her with fire, and showing her again and again just how nimble those fingers can be.

A/N: So this came out of nowhere - please review! :)

Disclaimer: Day 7238: Still not J.K. Rowling