To Dare

A/N: All right my dears, we are finally getting to some juicy stuff here. Thanks to everyone for following along faithfully and patiently.

To Dare

Chapter Nine

The first of September arrived in the middle of a sweltering heat wave, almost as if summer was indulging in one last tantrum before ageing into autumn. Fred and George went along with their mother to King’s Cross Station to see Ginny off to her last year at Hogwarts. Mrs. Weasley sobbed through the whole process of passing through the barrier and getting Ginny’s luggage on the train.

“Come on, Mum,” George attempted to console her. “It’s not the end of the world. We’ve already been through that.” But she just cried all the harder. “Just think,” he tried again, “no more worrying about how you’re going to afford all those new books and robes, no more owls from the school about missed curfews or broken rules.”

While George distracted Mrs. Weasley, Fred drew Ginny aside. “Write often,” he told her. “George and I talked last night. If you’re willing to be our field researcher and let us know what pranks our customers are using our products to pull, we’ll continue your salary.”

“Fair enough,” Ginny agreed. “But I’ll need it in Galleons and Sickles. As Head Girl, I can’t very well slip anyone a Ton-Tongue Toffee.”

“Not a problem,” Fred beamed proudly. “Our profits are increasing on a daily basis.”

Ginny smiled. “So having Thalassa Hartwell as your business consultant is working for you?”

“Like magic,” he replied.

“I’m glad. You and George were destined to run a joke shop. For a while there I was worried that you two might have to get regular jobs.”

“Wouldn’t that have been a tragedy?” He rolled his eyes.

They laughed and then Mrs. Weasley interrupted them to hug Ginny and fuss over her until the train was ready to depart. Soon the Hogwarts Express was pulling out of the station while Mrs. Weasley waved and dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief. She wouldn’t allow the twins to usher her off the platform until the train was completely out of sight.


With the start of the school term, the hectic pace at the joke shop eased. The twins’ new fleet of delivery owls got a workout flying back and forth to Hogwarts, but foot traffic into the shop slowed significantly. Fred and George knew from experience that business wouldn’t pick up again until closer to Christmas, so they shortened their shop hours and planned to close completely on Mondays. Unfortunately, that gave them more time to snipe at one another and quarrel as they never had before. They were by turns surly, morose, or just plain sulky, worrying their mother and annoying whichever of their brothers happened to be about. One Wednesday afternoon at the shop, tensions erupted into a blazing row. Fortunately, there weren’t any customers to witness the shouting match, not that the twins would have noticed.

“You missed your chance. You should have just stayed out of it. It’s all your fault she doesn’t want either of us about,” Fred accused.

“My fault? Oh, that’s rich. We both know your idea of romance is waiting until after the pudding to ask a girl if she wants a shag.”

They continued in that manner for nearly an hour, not even noticing when an owl landed on the counter in front of them until the bird hopped forward and nipped, hard, at the nearest fingers.

“Ouch!” Fred snatched his hand back and rubbed at the bite.

The tawny owl ruffled her feathers and hooted irritatedly.

“Ixchel?” George frowned.

The owl bobbed her body forward in a sort of nod and then held out her leg to George. He took the parchment tied there and unrolled it.

“It’s from Thalassa. She’s inviting us over to her flat on Saturday. She says to bring the notebooks and we’ll work on deciphering the coded passages.”

“Let me see.” Fred grabbed the parchment and read it for himself. “Do you suppose she’s going to give us her decision?”

George merely shrugged.

Fred scowled a moment before a crafty look stole across his features. When he looked up, George had his wand out, pointed at his face.

“Don’t even think about it,” George growled menacingly.

“You either,” Fred returned, equally threatening.

“And risk Thalassa’s wrath? No thank you. If she found out we were rowing again, she’d send us both packing.” He pocketed his wand and picked up a quill from the counter. “I suppose it’s too much to ask for you to find something else to occupy your time Saturday.”

“Too bloody right.”

“Thought I’d check. What time shall I tell her we’ll be there?”


On Saturday, they arrived at Thalassa’s flat at one-fifteen, only a quarter of an hour later than they’d said. They brought with them the rucksacks of notebooks, a case of butterbeer and a half-case of her favourite Muggle beer.

“If we drink all that, we won’t be able to decipher our own names,” Thalassa commented.

“You seriously underestimate our tolerance, love,” George chuckled, leaning over to kiss her cheek. He wasn’t sure how he managed to be so nonchalant. She looked positively radiant in her cherry-red robe.

“Perhaps,” she said, giving his shoulder a little squeeze and then pointing towards the kitchen. “I think there’s room in the refrigerator for about half of that.” She turned to Fred and offered him the same casual embrace she’d given George and he dropped a kiss on her other cheek.

“How have you been?” he asked.

“Bored,” she answered with an exaggerated sigh. “I didn’t realize how deadly dull my life was before you two walked back into it.”

“You hear that, George? She missed us.”

“How could she not? Haven’t we dedicated ourselves to being the most charming, witty, and entertaining wizards in all of England?”

A gurgle of laughter from her was their reward. “You forgot modest,” she teased. “I made sandwiches. I figured you wouldn’t have eaten.” She gestured to the platter on the counter.

“Still feeding us? I suppose this means you’ve decided to keep us,” George said with a smile.

“You’ve already earned your keep several times over.”

“We keep telling you that we got the better end of our bargain,” Fred said, getting plates out of the cabinet. “Wait ‘til you hear how our ledgers balanced this week.” He named a respectable figure.

“Net profit?” she asked, raising her eyebrows in surprise and he nodded. “That is impressive, but you can’t lay all the credit for that at my door. All I did was explain a few basic concepts of economics. You two actually did all the work.”

“I don’t think you appreciate how desperate our situation had become,” George sighed. “Nor your own ability to force those ‘basic concepts’ into our thick heads.” He picked up two bottles of butterbeer and a Muggle beer and pointed his wand at them to perform a Chilling Charm.

Pink tinted her cheekbones at his compliment. “All I appreciate is that I’ve laughed more in the last month than I have in a very long time, even with all the things that have happened lately.” She took the now-cold bottle he offered her.

They filled their plates and found places at the table. As they ate, the conversation was easy and comfortable and Thalassa felt her mood lighten considerably. This was what she’d missed, the good-natured teasing and lively banter. The give-and-take (and sometimes parry-and-thrust) the three of them engaged in warmed her heart and filled her soul in ways she’d never suspected were possible. She knew then what her decision must be. There was no way she’d be able to give up this even-handed camaraderie to pursue a relationship with just one of the twins, even if she could decide she cared more for one than the other. George had said if she chose to remain friends with them they’d respect her decision, but could they go back to the way things were? Could she?

“Going to start spouting prophecies?” Fred teased, waving a hand in front of her eyes.

She blinked, startled. “What?”

“You’ve been in a trance for the last five minutes,” George told her. “Haven’t listened to a word of my fascinating story, have you?”

“I’m sorry,” she said contritely. “What were you saying?”

“Forget it,” he waved dismissively. “If you can’t be bothered to hang on my every word…” His expression held all the sorrow of a pup that had learned a new trick with no one to notice.

“Why don’t you tell us what you were thinking that was so mesmerizing?” Fred invited.

She turned her solemn gaze from one to the other. “Later. We should get out the notebooks and get to work.”

They rolled their eyes. “And I thought Hermione was bossy,” Fred grumbled.

“I’d like to think I’m a little more tactful than that,” she said with a trace of irritation. “Besides, didn’t I feed you first? What more do you want?” There was a heartbeat’s pause as the twins’ faces both split into wicked grins and Thalassa realized the opening she’d just handed them. “Never mind, never mind,” she said, hastily standing and starting to clear the table.

“We’ll help with that,” George offered.

“No, I’ve got it. Go on and get out the notebooks. You can start by telling me what you’ve tried that didn’t work.”

“Well, we figured it had to be a code of some sort, so we tried every code-breaking charm we could think of,” George said, unpacking notebooks and parchments of their own notes.

“Dad wouldn’t have used an Encoding Charm. He was just as bad at charms as my mother is at potions.” Thalassa piled the dishes in the sink and took over the armchair.

Fred sprawled on the couch, taking the end nearest Thalassa’s chair. “When the spells didn’t produce any results, we got a book on Muggle codes. We tried everything in it and none of that worked either.”

“Did you bring it with you? The Muggle code book?”

“Sure,” George pulled a thin volume out of his rucksack and handed it to her, “but like Fred said, we tried everything in it.”

“I want to look at it anyway. It might give me some ideas. What else have you tried?”

“That’s it.” Fred shrugged. “We’ve been busy making stuff for the shop.”

“Right then, let’s just start with something basic. Make a table of contents for each book and we’ll see if a pattern emerges.”

That kept them occupied for a couple of hours while Thalassa looked through the book on codes. She found it utterly fascinating, the complexity and ingeniousness of the codes, all accomplished without magic. At one point, Fred covered her hand with his to stop her from tapping out Morse code on the arm of the chair. It felt good and she let him retain hold of her hand just a shade too long before pulling away. When she finished the book, she closed it and set it aside. Frowning thoughtfully, she idly traced the design on the cover with one finger. George, seeing her preoccupation, fished a Knut out of his pocket and flipped it into her lap. She picked up the coin and chuckled. “You’ve overpaid me, I’m afraid. What time is it?”

Fred glanced at his watch. “Near five-thirty.”

“I think it’s time to start supper.” She stood and pocketed the coin, going into the kitchen.

“We’ll help. What do you want us to do?” George stood as well, dropping his quill on the end table.

“There’s not room in my kitchen for all three of us to work without tripping over one another,” she said.

“All right then, I’ll help,” he insisted, following her. Neither of them saw the angry glare Fred directed at his twin’s back.

Dammit, Fred thought. Git’s probably been plotting that strategy since we got here. He could only move to claim Thalassa’s chair so he could observe the activity in the kitchen. He watched as Thalassa set George to cleaning and chopping vegetables. She and George worked in harmony, trading quips and reminiscing.

“Do you remember when we tried to enter the Triwizard Tournament and you wouldn’t help us?” George was saying.

“And you and Fred ended up with those long, white beards?” She smiled at the memory. “Yes. I did tell you that Dumbledore would have set the Age Line to detect one of the ingredients of an Ageing Potion.”

“You could’ve saved us the trouble if you’d just thrown our names in for us. I was right pissed at you for a couple of days, but I eventually got over it.”

“At least you lived to get over it. I heard what happened to poor Diggory,” she said quietly, almost too quietly for Fred to hear in the other room. “It could’ve been you or Fred, or even Lee if the Goblet had coughed up one of your names.” She glanced in Fred’s direction and a look of surprise flitted across her face as she caught him glowering at her and George. She frowned at him before she turned her attention back to whatever was in the large pan in front of her on the cooker. She was subdued for a while until George managed to make her laugh again. After that, Fred guarded his expression more carefully.

Unlike luncheon, supper was uncomfortable, but each of them determinedly pretended not to notice the tension. “Did you make any progress, Fred?” Thalassa asked between bites.

“A bit,” he answered somewhat shortly.

“And? Anything unusual show up?”

“Not really. Each book starts out with one common potion or another, a Healing Draught or Shrinking Solution or some such…”

“That’s odd. Why would Dad write down potions he could make in his sleep?”

“Maybe it was his way of identifying the notebook,” George suggested. “They’re not numbered, dated, or titled in any other way.”

“Maybe,” Thalassa said doubtfully. “Did you read that bit in the code book about the manuscripts that could only be deciphered by laying a template over the text that had holes punched in it to reveal the characters you were supposed to read? That sounds like something that would appeal to Dad.”

“Did you ever find anything that looked like something you’d use as a template?” Fred asked.

“No,” she sighed. “But to be honest, I barely glanced at the notebooks until I lent them to you two. I wouldn’t have known to look for anything like that in his things. There might be some clue at Hartwell House, but I don’t want to try searching there except as a last resort.” She laid down her fork and pushed her plate away. “So back to the books for a while after supper, or have you two had enough for one day?”

“I suppose we could work a little while longer,” George said. “Unless you’re wanting us to clear off.”

“No, I meant if you were tired of slogging through those books, we could do something else. I’ve a whole shelf full of movies.”

“Whatever you want to do,” Fred replied diplomatically.

“I’m just happy to have the two of you here. Why don’t you think on it while I do the washing-up?” She took her plate to the sink.

George didn’t need any time to think. He knew what he wanted to do, but until Thalassa told him and Fred her decision, there was nothing for it but to wait. He and Fred cleared the rest of the dishes off the table for her and went back into the living room. George looked at the notebooks and parchments spread out on every flat surface and sighed. He suddenly felt the need to be far away from his twin. “I’m going to have a look at her greenhouse.” He nodded to the sliding glass door near the fireplace. “I’ll be right back,” he added as a warning.

Fred waited until George had gone out onto the glassed-in balcony that served as a greenhouse before joining Thalassa in the kitchen. He leaned against the counter while she washed the supper dishes. “Have you given any more thought to what we discussed the other night?”

This was it, then. She couldn’t put off telling them her decision any longer. She sighed. “I told you I wouldn’t risk our friendship.”

“And I told you I wasn’t going to just give up.” He moved right behind her and slid his arms around her waist.

“Fred,” she began warningly.

“I hope you don’t think all I’m looking for is a quick shag,” he murmured in her ear. “I really care for you. We could be good together.”

Thalassa leaned her head away. His warm breath against her temple was making her weak in the knees. Fred took advantage of the opportunity and kissed her neck. She closed her eyes as a small whimper escaped her lips. Part of her wanted to give in to the intoxicating sensations he was stirring up. A wave of guilt washed over her. “Fred, stop it,” she protested breathily.

“Mm. No, I don’t think so,” he said, nipping at her earlobe.

She moaned softly, gripping the edge of the counter. She could feel his arousal pressing against her bottom.

“No,” she choked. “I mean it, Fred. Stop. George is in the other room.”

“He went to check out your greenhouse.”

“He could come back in here at any moment. I don’t want him to see us like this,” she said a little desperately and wrenched herself out of his hold. She quickly moved away, as much as her tiny kitchen would allow.

“Why not?” he asked suspiciously.

“You’ve already been fighting. I won’t have that happen again.”

Understanding began to dawn on Fred. “So then you’ve decided on George.”

She dropped her eyes. “George and I are just friends.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

“It doesn’t feel right, what you and I did the other night, and what we were just doing.”

He closed the distance between them, took her chin in his hand, and tilted her face up. “Look me in the eye and tell me you don’t fancy George.”

Her gaze slowly drifted up to meet his and her eyes filled with tears. “I can’t,” she whispered. He let her go then and stepped back. She bit her lip and blinked to clear her vision.

“Thalassa,” George called, striding in from the other room, “your mugwort could stand thinning and your lavender--“ he stopped and looked curiously from her to Fred, taking in the tense atmosphere. “What’s going on?”

Thalassa turned her head away so he wouldn’t see her expression. “Nothing. Thank you, George. I’ll take care of that after I’m done putting away the dishes.”

They took her hint and left her to it. Fred sat down heavily on the couch and George took a seat at the opposite end.

“Couldn’t wait until my back was turned, could you?” George accused in an undertone. He felt like strangling Fred.

“Didn’t do me any good,” Fred retorted. “She fancies you, you git.”

“Not nearly enough,” George replied with more than a touch of bitterness. “She handed me the same excuse she gave you: she doesn’t want to ruin our friendship. I thought that was just because she didn’t want to tell me she preferred you.”

They suspended their conversation when Thalassa walked through, a small pair of secateurs in her hand. She looked at them suspiciously, but said nothing.

When she was out of earshot, George leaned forward. “Did she actually say she had feelings for me?”

“No,” Fred said carefully. “I just guessed, but she didn’t deny it.”

“Look, she said some things the other night that led me to believe—well, you don’t suppose she fancies both of us? I mean, enough so that the idea of seeing either one of us makes her uncomfortable?”

A flurry of emotions crossed Fred’s face. “It’s possible,” he said thoughtfully. “If that’s so, what do we do about it?”

“I don’t know. I thought at first that I just reminded her of you. I mean, I know she’s always been able to tell us apart, but we are twins. Would it be so bad if she actually had feelings for both of us, to the point where she won’t, or can’t, choose?”

Fred considered that for a long moment. “No,” he said slowly. “Obviously I would prefer it if she didn’t fancy you at all, but at least I’d know she wanted me for myself, not just because, as you said, one of us reminds her of the other.” He propped his elbows on his knees and buried his head in his hands. “Bloody awful mess.”

“I agree. It would be simpler if she could just settle on one of us, but she’s apparently not going to do that. Her solution is to ignore all this and hope it goes away.”

Fred made a derisive noise in his throat and slouched back against the cushions. For the first time, their frustration with the situation united them, instead of setting them against one another.

George continued. “So are we going to try both seeing her, then? It’s not what I’d prefer, but this is killing me, being near her and not being able to be with her. I’d be willing to give it a try if that’s the only reason she won’t agree to anything other than friendship.”

“I suppose,” Fred agreed glumly. “It’s either that or nothing, right?”

“The only question is how to approach her. I can’t imagine just saying, ‘Thalassa, seeing as how you seem to fancy both of us, Fred and I wondered if you’d mind if we just took turns having a go.’”

“No, that’s brilliant,” said Fred sarcastically. “What woman wouldn’t be gagging for an offer like that?”

“What other choice do we have?”

Fred shifted uneasily. “There is one other option.” He gave George a meaningful look.

“What?” George looked blank for a moment, and then blushed to the tips of his ears as he caught Fred’s implication. “Oh,” he muttered.

“It’s not like we’ve never done that before. Tonks--“

“I remember,” George interrupted. “How could I forget?” he said uncomfortably.

“You didn’t seem to have a problem with it at the time, mate.”

“Yes, well, I wasn’t in love with Tonks and neither were you. It was…what it was.”

“You think being in love will make it worse, or better?”

“I don’t know, but if the other arrangement would be difficult to tactfully suggest, how could this possibly be any easier?”

“Tactful suggestions aren’t in my range. I’ve always found it easier to apologize than ask permission.”

“Not always a good idea when it comes to sexual encounters.”

“You know what I mean,” Fred responded irritably. “Use the direct approach. Kiss her first and if she doesn’t slap you, ask for more.”

George was doubtful. “It could backfire horribly.”

“It could,” Fred agreed, “but even if it does, she’s said that her main worry is losing our friendship. She’ll forgive us eventually.”

“I’m not exactly comfortable with this.”

“Which part?” Fred asked mockingly.

“All of it, really.”

“All of what?” Thalassa came in, bunches of herbs in her hands.

George jumped up. “Here, let me help you with that.” He took some of her burden and followed her into the kitchen. He helped her hang up the bundles of herbs to dry. “I feel badly now. This is your day off and I have you harvesting herbs. Why don’t you sit down and I’ll rub your shoulders?”

“That’s not necessary,” she hastily declined, remembering the last time he offered to give her a massage.

He leaned close. “Nothing to worry about,” he said in a low voice. “Fred’s here to chaperone.”

“Oh,” she said uncertainly. Surely, George wouldn’t do anything improper right in front of his brother. “All right, I suppose.” She went and sat down on the couch.

“Turn and put your feet up. I’ll give you a foot massage,” Fred offered.

“You two really are going to spoil me,” she warned, laughing.

“You deserve to be spoiled, but if it bothers you that much to accept a little cosseting, just take it out of your consultant’s fee,” Fred chuckled.

“We’ll see.” She kicked off her shoes and propped her feet on Fred’s thigh. George perched on the arm of the couch behind her. Thalassa slowly began to relax under their thorough ministrations. Fred was every bit as talented as George.

“Mm. How did you two get so good at this?” she asked, and then realized it was a story she most likely didn’t want to hear. “Strike that. None of my business.”

George laughed and gave her shoulders a gentle shake. “Relax. Wood insisted the whole Quidditch team learn sports massage so we didn’t spend so much time in the hospital wing. I’m surprised you didn’t know that.”

“Oh.” She could feel a blush spreading up her neck.

“You have such tiny feet,” Fred remarked by way of a subject change.

“Things that don’t get any sunlight don’t grow,” she replied.

“What?” He gave a startled laugh.

“It’s something my mother said. I was chubby when I was younger. You remember from when we were at Hogwarts. My feet were always in the shadow of my body, so…”

“That’s a horrible thing to say to a child.” Fred was aghast.

“For Merlin’s sake, Fred, you’ve met my mother. Calculated cruelty is her stock in trade.”

“Still,” he sighed, beginning to work his way up her calf, “to treat her own daughter like that, it’s bloody awful.”

Thalassa just sighed. There didn’t seem to be much to say to that and she didn’t really want to think about her mother just now. She didn’t want to think about anything, actually. She just wanted to take pleasure in having both Fred’s and George’s hands on her at the same time. She could feel something deep in her soul begin to unfold like a crocus opening to early spring sunshine.

“Scoot forward so I can reach further down,” George told her, working on the muscle knots below her shoulder blades.

She obediently shifted closed to Fred. This was divine. She closed her eyes to better savour the sensations and so missed the significant look the twins exchanged. George slid off the arm of the couch to sit directly behind her. At the same time, Fred moved to lean over her. She felt George’s lips graze the side of her neck mere moments before Fred’s mouth came down on hers. Desire swamped surprise so quickly that thoughts of resisting never had time to form in her mind. She kissed Fred back and slid her hand up to stroke the nape of George’s neck. George cupped her breast in his hand, caressing her through the fabric of her robe. Fred moved his hand slowly up her thigh, tracing an erotic pattern on her skin with his fingertips.

Someone was moaning, hungrily, thickly, and Thalassa realized it was herself. Fred and George eased her robe down off her shoulders, nibbling at the flesh they exposed. She wondered briefly when her robe had come unfastened. Fred trailed a path of kisses down from her collarbone. He took her aching nipple into his mouth and flicked the hard point with his tongue. George still fondled her other breast, now without the barrier of her robe. She moved restlessly, her desire roused to an unbearable pitch. Encouraged by her passionate response, George smoothed his other hand over her abdomen while Fred kneaded her hip. When she felt them begin to slide their fingers under the waistband of her knickers, though, a sudden panic cut through her haze of lust.

“No,” she gasped and pushed their hands away. She struggled to disentangle her limbs from theirs. “Stop it!”

Fred and George, slow to react to her protest at first, immediately ceased their efforts and let her go. She scrambled to her feet and put the width of the room between herself and them.

“Omigod. Omigod. Omigod.” With shaking hands, she attempted to straighten her clothes. She managed to get some of the fasteners fed through some of the loops, not the right ones, but enough to hold her robe closed. She compulsively finger-combed her hair, tugging at the honey-blonde locks. “I can’t believe that you--that we--that I--,” she broke off, unable to find words to describe what had just taken place. She sank into the chair and buried her face in her hands.

Fred and George exchanged dismayed looks. “Thalassa, we’re sorry.”

“Love, please don’t cry,” they both spoke at the same time.

She jumped up and began to pace. George stood, intending to offer comfort, but she shied away from him. He froze, but spoke to her in soothing tones as if trying to gentle a wounded animal. “We’re so sorry for frightening you. Hush. We shouldn’t have just sprung that on you. We should have talked it over with you first. Shh. We won’t push you into anything you don’t want.”

His words began to have a calming effect and Thalassa’s pacing slowed until she simply stood in the centre of the room with her head down. She hugged her arms tight across her chest, hiding her face behind the curtain of her hair. George carefully edged closer until he was just within arm’s reach. Fred stayed where he was on the couch and remained silent, wisely allowing his twin to take the lead in this.

George reached out his hand but stopped just short of touching Thalassa’s shoulder. “Please, love, look at me,” he entreated.

Slowly she raised her eyes to his, confusion and distress plain on her face.

He continued carefully, still not quite touching her. “We never meant to hurt you in any way. I hate it that we upset you so. We promise we’ll never touch you again, if that’s what you want.”

A jumble of emotion so raw it hurt him to see it contorted her features. “I--I don’t know what I want,” she said helplessly.

George finally allowed his hand to rest lightly on her shoulder, a non-threatening gesture of comfort. She trembled, but whether it was a reaction to his touch, or an outer symptom of her inner turmoil, he didn’t know. “Here,” he chided gently, oh so gently, “you’ve done up your robe all wrong.” He carefully redid the fastenings properly, taking heart when she didn’t flinch away. “Come on, sit down.” He led her back to the sofa and seated her next to Fred. George knelt on the floor in front of her. “Start by telling us what you don’t want. Sometimes that’s easier.”

Thalassa drew in a shuddering breath and steeled herself to face her own tangled desires. “I--,” her voice cracked and she cleared her throat before trying again. “I don’t want to lose you, either of you. I’ve tried to do without you, and I can’t. Every day is an adventure with the two of you about. You bring so much joy and laughter and I really need that. I want you in my life for as long as you’ll stay.” She took another, steadier breath. “I care about you both and,” she gulped, “and not just as friends,” she finished in a rush. “I just can’t choose between you. Please don’t ask me to.”

“We’re not. We won’t,” Fred reassured.

“We care about you, too,” said George. “You know that, don’t you?”

Thalassa looked at him, guilt and relief in her eyes. “I wasn’t sure,” she said ruefully. “I was beginning to wonder if this was some sort of competition between the two of you.”

“No,” said Fred earnestly. “My feelings for you are real.”

“I think that the fact that we’re willing to consider a more unconventional relationship proves that this isn’t some sort of silly rivalry.”

“Unconventional.” She gave a short, sharp laugh. “There’s a nice word. This, what we were doing--” she broke off, panic rising once more. She twisted her fingers together in her lap.

The twins exchanged a long, thoughtful look and Fred nodded for George to continue.

“Did we move too fast? Are you afraid we’ll get carried away and hurt you somehow?”

“No, not exactly,” she said shakily, “but there are two of you and only one of me. If you did get carried away there wouldn’t be much I could do about it, would there?”

“We’d never--“ Fred began indignantly, but stopped when Thalassa turned and levelled a stern look at him. He looked disconcerted as he recalled his actions earlier when he was alone with her in the kitchen. “Well, that is, you didn’t sound very convincing at first,” he said defensively, “but I’d have never hurt you.”

“We don’t all have to be together,” George said patiently. “It just seemed the most efficient way to let you know how we feel.”

She closed her eyes. “No,” she choked. “I liked it. Before, when I was alone with one or the other of you it felt wrong. I don’t know how or why, but just now, it felt right and that scares me. I’m not that sort of girl. At least, I never would have thought I was. Apparently, I am.”

“Bollocks,” Fred snapped. “You’re just you. You’re kind and generous and responsible.”

George took up the litany. “You’re passionate and patient and we only want to make you happy.”

“And you do, both of you, but ultimately I’m responsible for my own happiness. I have to do what I feel is in my best interests.” She sensed their instant despair on a visceral level and it literally stole her breath.

“It’s just too scandalous, isn’t it?” George asked sadly.

“It is scandalous,” she agreed. How can I do this? she wondered briefly beofre she waded ahead. “But if I allow my fear to keep me from being with the two most wonderful men I’ve ever met, then I don’t deserve either one of you, much less both of you.” She was too amazed at her own boldness to actually look at either one of them, but she felt Fred go still next to her. George’s swift intake of breath was very loud in the silence.

“Are you sure this is what you want?” he asked carefully.

“No, I’m not sure. That is, I’m sure that right now, at this moment, this is what I want more than anything in the world. Will I still want it when everyone is whispering about me? I don’t know. All I do know is that I can’t be with just one of you. I’m willing to try any arrangement that’s fair to all of us.”

“Do you want to think on this a few days before you make a decision? We did rather fly out of the sun with this.”

“What difference is a few days going to make? Besides, I’ve thought about this until my brain is ready to melt. The only solution I could come up with is apparently unacceptable. There is no easy answer. We're just going to have to find our own path on this."

"As long as we remember we’re all in this together, we'll be fine," Fred said confidently.

"And we must be honest with one another," George added. "No more evasions and half truths."

"Very well," Thalassa agreed. "In the spirit of complete honesty, I have to tell you that I don't have any contraceptive potions here."

"That's all right," Fred grinned roguishly, "George and I both know the Temporary Infertility Curse. Though it seems a little odd, you working in an apothecary and all."

"Well, as to that, I," she looked away, blushing. "I never needed it before," she finished indistinctly.

"Thalassa," George said carefully after a moment of startled silence, covering her hands with one of his, "are you saying that this would be your first time?"

She nodded. "It doesn't matter, does it?"

"Of course it matters," Fred exploded. "We don't just go about blithely deflowering virgins."

"You mean you won't--that you don't want me now?" Her lip trembled as she turned hurt eyes on him.

"No, that is not what Fred meant," George soothed. "Is it, you colossal prat?" He glared at his twin.

"No, didn't mean that at all,” mumbled Fred apologetically. “Just a bit of a shock."

"It's just that this could be awkward and overwhelming enough with only one partner. Your first time should be special.”

“I’m fairly certain that the circumstances meet the criteria for ‘special’,” she remarked dryly.

“Someone special, then,” George argued.

She sighed impatiently. Now that she’d made her decision, she didn’t want to agonize over it any longer. “Are you saying that this isn’t special for you? Do this all the time, do you?”

“No,” they both hastened to reassure her.

“Then shouldn’t you look for your own special someone for each of you that you don’t have to share? I’m sure your family would like to see you with nice girls.”

“We’ve already found our nice girl,” Fred said quietly. ”We can’t help it that we both fell in love with the same one.”

“That’s why we’re hesitant to let you throw yourself away on us. You’ve waited this long, you should wait for someone you love.”

“I did,” she said simply. She leaned forward and kissed George. When she ended the kiss, she looked into his eyes for long moments. Reassured by what she saw there, she smiled. Then she turned to Fred and kissed him as well. She nipped playfully at his lower lip when she came up for air.

“So what was all that rubbish about staying just friends?” Fred asked, giving her a puzzled frown.

“It was the best I could come up with,” she replied defensively. “I never imagined we could do…this, all together. All I knew was that I couldn’t choose and I didn’t want you two rowing any more.” She stood and extended a hand to each of them. “It hurt, knowing you weren’t getting along and that I was the reason. When I was younger, I used to watch the two of you together and wish I had a twin, someone I could confide in, someone who would always understand me. Silly of me, I know.”

“No, it’s understandable, I suppose, if you didn’t have any brothers or sisters growing up,” George said, taking her hand as he stood. “If you’d had six siblings to contend with, though…”

“Very likely I would have wished to be an only child,” she finished, laughing.

Fred grasped her other hand and rose from his seat. “Well, you’ve got two twins now. We can’t promise to always understand you, but you’re certainly free to confide in us whenever you feel the need.”