To Dare

A/N: As promised, a mid-week installment. I didn't want to leave you all hanging too long. Welcome to Ebony-Jayde! Thanks for your kind review.

To Dare

Chapter Seventeen

George was furious. What the hell did Bill think he was playing at, coming to the flat when he and Fred were gone, upsetting Thalassa and hurting her like that? He Apparated to the middle of the kitchen at the Burrow. “Bill!” he shouted, catching sight of his brother on the stairs.

“I was wondering when you’d show up,” Bill said. “Let’s take this outside, shall we? Mum’s been upset enough lately.” The two of them went out into the back garden and Fred Apparated a moment later.

“What gives you the right to lay your hands on my girl?” George snarled at Bill.

“Your girl, is she? What’s the matter? Afraid you’ll find out any man will do for her?” He flicked a glance at Fred. “Or perhaps it’s just any Weasley.”

Fred roared, incoherent with rage. He and George charged at him just as their mother rushed out the kitchen door.

“Stop! Stop this!” Mrs. Weasley screamed as George and Fred pummelled Bill mercilessly.


“Damn. Damn. Damn.” As Fred followed George, Thalassa ran to get her wand. She pointed it at the fireplace and shouted, “Incendio!” Fire ignited almost explosively and she had to wait for it to die down a little. She snatched a handful of Floo powder and threw it on the flames. As soon as they began to turn green, she jumped in and said, “The Burrow.” She burst into the Weasleys’ kitchen a few moments later and traced the sounds of a scuffle outside. Fred and George were holding Bill down and pounding on him with bloody fists. Mrs. Weasley stood by screaming at them to stop, forgetting about the wand in her hand.

Thalassa took out her own wand and pointed it at the three brothers. “Accio Bill!” she yelled. His limp form flew through the air to her. She sidestepped and allowed him to fall in a crumpled heap behind her. Quickly, she turned her wand on Fred and George and stopped them in their tracks with a Freezing Charm.

“This is all your fault!” Mrs. Weasley shrieked at her.

“Yes, I’m afraid it is,” Thalassa sighed. “I’m so sorry, Mrs. Weasley. You’d better get Bill inside and patched up. I’ll send these two in when they’ve calmed down.” She waited until Bill had been revived and helped back inside before stepping in front of Fred. She was pale and dishevelled, with her robes carelessly fastened and streaks of soot on her face and in her hair. “Promise me you won’t go after Bill again and I’ll let you go,” she said tiredly.

Fred just glared at her.

“Fine then,” she snapped. “Come summer, you’ll make a lovely scarecrow.” She turned to George. “Promise me, George. Just blink twice if you promise,” she pleaded. After a heartbeat’s pause, she muttered, “Stubborn ass.

“Right then, listen up, the pair of you: this is exactly why I didn’t want to tell you it was Bill that stopped by today.” She drew in a deep breath. “Your brother has come to the conclusion that I’ve bewitched you and lured you away from your family. As insulting as that may be, I can forgive him for thinking that. He is obviously motivated by a deep concern for your well-being. During our discussion, he lost his temper and grabbed me by the shoulders to emphasize a point. He shouldn’t have done that, but I don’t think he actually intended to hurt me. Besides, I gave back as good as I got.

“He let me know that my relationship with the two of you has caused a deep rift in your family. I told you before that I didn’t want to cause problems between you two. That goes double for causing problems between you and the rest of your family. Great Merlin! You tried to kill your brother tonight.”

Fred felt a pang of shame and his anger began to melt away. Thalassa stood before him once again, looking sorrowfully into his eyes. “Promise me, Fred,” she whispered and he blinked twice. She turned to the side. “George?” He must’ve agreed, because she ended her spell with a flick of her wand and a quiet, “Finite Incantatem.” Fred stumbled a little bit as he regained control of his muscles. “Come on,” she sighed. “Let’s get you two cleaned up.”

In the warm, bright kitchen, Thalassa tended bruised knuckles and a cut over George’s eye where Bill had managed to land a punch. She ignored Mrs. Weasley’s venomous glares as best she could.

“Mum, stop looking at her like that,” Fred said testily. Before Thalassa knew what he was about, he’d pulled her robe off one shoulder just enough to reveal the bruises there. “You see what Bill did to her.”

Thalassa slapped his hands away and shrugged her robe back up. “Stop it. I don’t need you to grass on Bill to your mum.”

Mrs. Weasley looked horrified. “Bill! You didn’t!”

“Ah, hell,” Bill groaned. “I didn’t mean—I’m sorry.” He ducked his head in shame.

“It’s not as bad as it looks,” Thalassa said gently. “They’re only bruises. I’ll mend.” There was a long uncomfortable silence, and then she said, “You all need to work this out. If someone will lend me a broomstick, I’ll be on my way.”

“It’s hours to London by broomstick. Why do you want to go that way?” Fred asked, confused. “Besides, this concerns you. You should be here.”

“No, this is between you Weasleys. It’ll be easier if I’m not here. And you know my Floo is only set up for outgoing traffic.”

“Why don’t you Apparate?” George was just as puzzled.

“She can’t,” Bill said.

“Shut it,” Thalassa hissed. “Not like this. Not now.”

“What?” Fred was completely lost.

“Tell them,” Bill insisted.

“No. Oh no.” Mrs. Weasley sat down in the nearest chair with a thump. Thalassa could tell by her expression that she’d guessed.

“Tell us what?” George asked peevishly.

Thalassa sighed and wrapped her arms around her waist. “I can’t Apparate because I’m pregnant. It’s too risky. If I splinched myself, I could miscarry.” The silence that followed her statement was deafening.

George frowned suspiciously. “How come you told Bill before you told us?”

“I didn’t tell him, he guessed.” She grimaced. “Apparently, I smell pregnant.”

Mrs. Weasley heaved herself up out of her chair. “Well that settles it. You’re not going anywhere tonight. It’s freezing outside. You can sleep in Ginny’s room.”

“That’s not necessary,” Thalassa protested. “I do know a Warming Charm. I’m perfectly capable of finding my own way home if someone will just lend me a broom.”

“You are not flying on a broomstick for three hours in the middle of February with my grandchild and that’s final.” Mrs. Weasley put her foot down, figuratively and literally. Fred and George gaped at their mother, and then exchanged surprised grins.

Thalassa opened her mouth to argue further, but before she could speak, a wave of dizziness washed over her. Seeing her sudden pallor, Mrs. Weasley warned, “Catch her, Fred.”

He looped an arm around Thalassa’s waist and guided her into a chair. She bent over and put her head between her knees. “All right, I’ll stay,” she said, her voice muffled. Fred kept a hand on her shoulder to steady her.

“Fred, George, when she’s recovered, you can take her up and get her settled. You’ll probably want a quick wash, as well, my dear. The Floo can leave one feeling quite gritty, I know.” Mrs. Weasley was in her element, taking charge. “I’ll whip you up a potion to help with the dizziness.”

“No, I’m feeling much better now, thank you.” Thalassa sat up slowly.

“You need to take care of yourself. No more of this tearing off across the country in the middle of the night. You two,” she fixed Fred and George with a fierce glare, “shouldn’t be upsetting her like this. And you,” she rounded furiously on Bill. “I’d have thought you’d have more sense. What were you thinking, manhandling a pregnant woman like that?” He cringed away from his mother’s anger like a whipped pup.

“He was thinking I’d ruined his brothers’ lives,” Thalassa interrupted. “Please, Mrs. Weasley, between the slap I gave him earlier and the beating he just took from these two, Bill’s more than paid for any hurt he caused me. I’m tired of being the cause of conflict for this family.” She stood carefully, Fred and George hovering close on either side.

“Let’s get you up to bed,” George said, gently taking her arm.

She shook off his hand. “I’m pregnant, not terminally ill,” she said crossly and turned to make her way up the stairs.


Soon, she was propped up in Ginny’s bed with Fred and George perched on either side of her, looking at her as if she might break if they moved too quickly.

“Are you sure?” George asked. “That you’re pregnant, I mean.”

“Yes, I’m sure. I went to the midwife yesterday. I was going to tell you last night, but…” She shrugged.

“How--? When--?” Fred floundered.

She gave him a crooked smile. “I think you know how. As to when, I’m reasonably sure it was Christmas. As best as I can remember, that’s the only time we forgot to do the Curse, and the timing would have been right.”

“Do you have any idea which one of us is the father?” George asked quietly.

“No. You were both there. It could be either one of you.” She leaned her head back and closed her eyes.

“Tired?” Fred asked.

“A bit. It’s been a long day.”

“Well, then we’ll clear off and let you rest.” George stood.

“Go on,” Thalassa urged. “I’ll be fine. Go make peace with your mum and Bill.”

They kissed her tenderly, each sneaking in a cautious caress of her tummy and walked out, leaving the door slightly ajar. Out on the landing, they paused to exchange a significant look. Then, squaring their shoulders, they made their way downstairs to face their mother’s wrath. She and Bill were still in the kitchen.

“So,” Mrs. Weasley began ominously.

“Mum, wait,” Bill said, standing up slowly. “Fred, George, I want you to know I’m really sorry for what happened this afternoon. It’s no excuse, but I suppose I’m still adjusting…I forget my strength. I never meant to hurt Thalassa.”

“No, you only meant to intimidate her into breaking it off with us,” Fred accused. “Couldn’t make her blink first, could you? She’s made of stronger stuff than that.”

“You don’t think it hurts her to know our family won’t accept her simply because she happens to love both of us?” George asked quietly. “The time she’s spent here is the closest she’s ever been to belonging to a proper family. She keeps telling us, Fred and me, that we take it for granted.”

“And she’s right,” Fred interrupted. “We took it for granted that, after a couple of weeks to get over the shock, you lot would remember that it’s love that’s important.”

“Even after the way all of you have treated her, her first concern is that we make peace with you,” George continued. “Bill, Thalassa forgives you, so we do too. But,” he growled, “if you ever put your hands on her again, it will be the very last thing you’ll ever do.”

“That’s quite enough of that,” Mrs. Weasley said sharply. “Whether any of us likes it or not, Thalassa is now a part of this family. Bill will treat her with the same care and respect as he does Ginny. And so will the rest of your brothers, or they’ll have me to answer to.” She drew herself up to her full height. “And you two—“

“I’ll, er, just go to bed,” Bill said, edging toward the stairs.

Mrs. Weasley continued as if he were already gone. “Of all the irresponsible--I know your father and I raised you better than this. If you couldn’t control yourselves, there are potions and spells to prevent just this sort of thing from happening.”

“We know, Mum,” George muttered, turning red.

“Is it too much to ask that at least one of you show some sense? It’s not as if you’re still thirteen, sneaking down to Hogsmeade in the middle of the week.”

“We remembered to do the Infertility Curse nearly every time,” Fred protested. “Thalassa says we only forgot once.”

“All it takes is forgetting once! Well, you’re just going to have to learn to be responsible now with a baby on the way. I suppose you’re the father, Fred.”

“Er, well, actually…” Fred began nervously.

“Not you, George,” Mrs. Weasley sighed.

“We’re not sure who the father is,” George said reluctantly.

“What do you mean you’re not sure? I thought you said you only forgot the Curse once.”

“We, ah, I suppose we each thought it had already been taken care of,” George said, looking down at the floor.

“You—oh!” Mrs. Weasley worked out for herself what they didn’t say. “You weren’t thinking at all!” she shrieked.

“Mum, it happened right after Christmas,” Fred tried to explain. “She was very upset. We were trying to comfort her and things sort of got out of control. And—and we’re in love with her,” he finished defiantly.

“Love is no excuse for carelessness or stupidity! Did you ever stop to consider the consequences?” She speared them both with her angry gaze. “Well?”

“No,” he answered guiltily. “Not really.”

“Mum, we love her, and she loves us,” George said earnestly. “That’s the most important thing, isn’t it? We’ll work things out, and you’re always here if we need advice.”

“Hmph,” she snorted. “You’ve never asked for advice before, particularly when you most needed it.”

The kitchen door swung open to admit Mr. Weasley. “Molly, I’m sorry I’m late. You wouldn’t believe what—“ he stopped as he saw the twins. “Boys, what are you doing here?”

“Your sons,” Mrs. Weasley began darkly.

“Mum, we’ll tell him,” George interrupted.

“Thalassa is pregnant,” Fred announced.

“Oh dear,” Mr. Weasley suddenly looked very tired. After a quick glance at his wife to gauge her mood, he asked, “And which of you is the father?”

“We don’t know,” George admitted.

“I see. So, a Paternity Divination and then a wedding?”

Fred and George looked at each other uncertainly. “We haven’t exactly discussed that with Thalassa yet,” George answered. “We’re not going to leave her to handle this responsibility alone, but she may not want to get married.”

“Not want—“ Mrs. Weasley spluttered.

“So what you’re saying is that you didn’t think things through before you jumped into this relationship.”

Fred shifted uncomfortably and looked away, but George met his father’s stern gaze steadily. “It’s true, we didn’t fully consider everything,” he agreed. “But we will work things out. All it takes is love and open, honest communication.”

“Since you two seem to have the situation well in hand, I suppose I’ll leave you to it.” He turned to Mrs. Weasley. “Is there any dinner left?”

“That’s it? ‘Is there any dinner left?’” Her wrath began to boil over.

“My dear,” Mr. Weasley put his arm around her shoulders, “Fred and George are adults now. They’re free to make their own decisions and take the consequences of those choices. If they say they can manage their own lives, we have no option but to believe them.” He fixed them with a steely look. “I will say this, though. One of you is now responsible for another human life, and an innocent one at that. Raising a child is the most perilous task you could ever undertake. Children don’t understand excuses, so you had better make sure you’re up to the challenge.”

George had the grace to look abashed then, but Mr. Weasley’s stern speech put some heart back into Fred. He looked up and said, “We will be. We have your example to guide us, after all.”


The next day, Thalassa woke to the bright midmorning sun and a horrible clanking sound. She reached for Fred and George in a panic before she remembered where she was. She lay still, resisting the urge to jump out of bed and investigate. If she moved too quickly when she woke up, it only made her queasy. Whatever that noise was, it must be a normal occurrence because she heard no voices raised in alarm. When she finally thought it might be safe to move, she sat up slowly. A packet of digestive biscuits lay open on the nightstand and her robe had been cleaned and was folded neatly on a nearby chair. She munched a few of the biscuits and took her time getting dressed before she made her way downstairs. Mrs. Weasley and George were sitting at the kitchen table and from their slightly guilty expressions, Thalassa concluded they must have been discussing her.

“Good morning,” she greeted them, determined to start the day on a cheerful note.

“Good morning, love.” George stood to give her a hug. “All recovered from last night?”

“I think so.”

“Would you like some breakfast, my dear?” Mrs. Weasley asked.

“Just toast and tea if you don’t mind,” Thalassa answered a little uncertainly, trying to decide if the older witch was still angry with her. She let George seat her at the table. “Where’s Fred?”

“He and Bill are helping Dad with some repair work,” George said.

“Is that what that awful racket was just a little bit ago?”

“No, that was probably the ghoul in the attic. It rattles the pipes every now and then.”

“You should go help your father and brothers,” Mrs. Weasley said with glare at George. “Now that you’ve made sure Thalassa’s well, you don’t have any excuse for lazing about.”

“Not until I’m sure you’re not going to badger her,” George answered, meeting his mother’s stern look with one of his own.

“George Weasley! You may be grown with a baby on the way, but that doesn’t give you the right to back-talk me!” Mrs. Weasley used the tone of voice that usually made her sons cower. Today, although George flinched at her anger, he didn’t back down.

“George,” Thalassa said, laying a gentle hand on his arm. “Your mother is welcome to badger me all she likes. This is her house and after last night, you have precious little moral high ground on which to make your stand.”

“But—“ he started.

“No. I told you last night: no more disagreements with your family over me, for the sake of the baby, if nothing else.” Thalassa’s quiet appeal, punctuated by the simple act of resting her hand on her stomach, worked where his mother’s shouting hadn’t.

“All right.” He kissed Thalassa on the forehead and she smiled at him reassuringly before he left the kitchen.

Thalassa turned to Mrs. Weasley with a calm expression. “There,” she said. “Now you can say whatever you like to me and neither of them will ever know.”

“What must you think of me?” Mrs. Weasley said, a hurt expression on her face.

“I think you’re a mother who loves her children very much and who is fiercely protective of them. You have every right to be furious with me, but I meant what I said earlier. I don’t want Fred and George to be on the outs with the rest of you. I think it’s time we got everything out in the open and decide how we mean to go on.”

The older witch gave Thalassa a long look, sizing her up. “Very well,” she said, nodding once, curtly. She waved her wand and a plate of toast and the tea things floated over to land on the table. The tea poured itself into two cups and Mrs. Weasley settled herself in the chair opposite Thalassa. “Did you mean to get pregnant?”

Thalassa lifted her chin. This was plain speaking, indeed. “No. This was unintentional. We forgot to do the Infertility Curse and the timing was just right, or wrong, depending on how you look at it.”

“Why in the world weren’t you taking a contraceptive potion? You work in an apothecary, for Merlin’s sake. And Fred and George aren’t the most responsible of my children.”

“Actually, I think they’re quite responsible. They just have a different view of what their responsibilities are. But as to your question, I can’t take the potion. It makes me sick.”

“Have you told your mother about the baby yet?”

“No, and I’m not looking forward to that conversation. I really did want to tell Fred and George first. I meant to, Friday night, but they brought Charlie to dinner. I didn’t want to tell them in front of him and then I fell asleep in the taxi on the way home. They’d already left for work when I woke up Saturday morning…” she sighed. “I imagine there’ll be hell to pay when Mother finds out.”

“I understand that your mother won’t be happy about this, but it’s her grandchild. Surely--”

“You’ve never met my mother, have you?”

“We’ve not been introduced. She was at Hogwarts after Arthur and I left, I believe. I’ve been in to the apothecary a few times, but that’s all.”

“I’d be surprised to meet anyone with less maternal sentiment than my mother. She won’t think of this baby as her grandchild. It will be just another way in which I’ve frustrated her social-climbing efforts. She’ll never be able to get me married off now to some rich Pureblood with one foot in the grave. She didn’t even approve of my friendship with Fred and George. To be perfectly blunt, you Weasleys aren’t rich or influential enough to suit her.” Thalassa sighed. “Not that I care about her opinion. I’d rather my baby grow up poor but surrounded by a loving family, than with the cold comforts money and influence can provide.”

“Well, once you’re married to whichever of the boys is the father, there won’t be anything your mother or anyone else can say about it.”

Thalassa had wondered how long it would take to get to what she was sure was Mrs. Weasley’s main concern. “I’m not going to force either of them to marry me just because I’m pregnant.”

“I would hope that I raised my boys better than that. Of course whichever one is the father will marry you. Fred and George know better than to shirk this responsibility.”

“I don’t want them to marry me because they feel obligated!” Thalassa jumped up from the table and went to the window to look out over the half-melted snowdrifts scattered over the garden. She blinked away hot tears and pushed her hair back from her face. “I love Fred and George, both of them, equally. I know that’s hard to understand. Sometimes I don’t even understand it. When I began to realize that what I felt for them was more than just friendship, I kept waiting to feel more for one than the other, or for my feelings towards one to wane. It never happened. It still hasn’t. If anything, I fall more deeply in love with them every day.” She sniffled, losing the fight to hold back her tears. “If the world were different, I’d want to marry them both, but only if they truly wanted to marry me, not because they think they have to.”

“But things aren’t different,” Mrs. Weasley said matter-of-factly. “You can’t marry them both and you are pregnant. Raising a child is difficult enough without trying to do it alone, not to mention the shame of being an unwed mother.”

“I know,” Thalassa said in a very small voice. “I wish that having a baby had been a decision that the three of us made together, after considering all the different issues and problems that would come from that decision. But things didn’t happen that way. We’re just going to have to do the best we can. I know it’s not going to be easy. Nothing about this relationship is easy except for loving them.” She spread her hand over her still-flat belly. “And now loving this little one,” she said, realizing it was true. Mrs. Weasley was silent so long that Thalassa finally turned to face her once more. “This baby is a Weasley, regardless of whether or not I marry the father. I want this little one to grow up knowing he or she is loved and wanted. I want my child to understand that love and family are more important than power and money.”

Mrs. Weasley blinked at her in surprise. “Well of course your baby is a Weasley. I was worried you might not want him to be around us, after everything that’s happened.”

“No,” Thalassa said, wiping her tears with the back of her hand. “I’d never keep your grandchild away from you.”

“Mum knows you wouldn’t,” Fred said from the doorway. He frowned at his mother. “What have you been saying to her?”

“That’s between your mum and me,” Thalassa said fiercely. “How long have you been eavesdropping?”

“I haven’t been,” he replied defensively. “I just came to see how you were getting on.”

“Just fine,” she replied more calmly.

“It’s time for me to start dinner,” Mrs. Weasley said, clearing the table.

“What can I do?” Thalassa asked.

“Oh, nothing. You go rest. I’m sure you’ve noticed your magic is more powerful now that you’re pregnant. It takes more out of you, too. Yesterday was draining in more ways than one.”

“All right,” Thalassa agreed, subdued. Fred hadn’t missed the hurt look that she quickly hid. He put his arm around her shoulders and steered her into the living room.

“Have you given any thought to how you’re going to get home?” he asked, more to distract her than anything.

“Could I get you or George to Apparate home and bring me my broom?” She sat down on the couch with him next to her.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea—now don’t get mad at me. I don’t think you should be flying long distances on a broomstick with your dizzy spells. You could fall off.”

“I’ve never fallen off a broom in my life,” she said indignantly.

“Yes, well, you’ve never been pregnant before.” He took her hand in his. “And don’t even suggest the Knight Bus. The way Ernie drives that thing,” he shook his head. “I don’t want you two thrown about like that.”

Thalassa ducked her head to hide a smile.

“What?”

“I’m an ‘us two,’” she said, blushing.

“Yes you are,” Fred agreed with a grin.

She leaned her head against his shoulder. “I suppose I could Floo to the apothecary. I’ve some Muggle money there for emergencies. I can take the tube or get a taxi home from the Leaky Cauldron.”

“You really should have your Floo fixed to allow incoming traffic. There are spells you can use to block unwanted visitors, you know.”

“I know,” she sighed. “But we’re going to have to find a new place before the baby’s born anyway.”

“What’s wrong with your flat?”

“Honestly, Fred,” she sighed exasperatedly. “There’s not even room for the three of us.”

“What about your building in Diagon Alley? We could add another story.”

“That might work for a while,” she agreed hesitantly. “Diagon Alley isn’t an ideal place to raise kids, though.”

“What do you suggest?”

“I’d really like to find a place in the country. Someplace like this.”

George stuck his head in the doorway. “There you two are. What are you up to?”

Thalassa held out her hand to him. “We were just talking. What do you think of looking for another place to live?”

His face fell. “You’re chucking us out?”

She rolled her eyes. “No. Don’t be thick.”

He crossed the room and sat next to her on her other side. “What did you have in mind?”

“Someplace with a big garden and loads of room, out in the country, with roses.” Her eyes took on a dreamy, faraway look as she described her ideal home. “…and maybe a gardener’s cottage where you two could work on developing new products.”

“Why do you get your potions lab in the basement, but we have to have our workshop in a separate building?”

“Because I’m less likely to blow up my lab. And we’d definitely need a place where we can get out the broomsticks and fly. It’d be a shame to let those Lightning Bolts gather dust.”

They continued to discuss what they wanted in a house until Mrs. Weasley called them all to dinner. Fred and George were so attentive and solicitous that Thalassa had to bite her tongue to keep from snapping at them. “Don’t hover,” was all she said, and they reacted as if she’d hexed them. She sighed inwardly, her appetite quickly waning.

“Not hungry?” Fred asked tentatively, watching her push her food around on her plate with her fork.

“Apparently not. Everything looks so good, but…” she shrugged helplessly.

“That’s all right, dear,” Mrs. Weasley said. “I was that way with Percy. Completely lost my appetite.”

“Yeah, he affects me that way, too,” said George.

Thalassa scowled at him. “You know I don’t like it when you talk like that. At least have the decency to insult Percy to his face.”

“She’s got a point,” said Fred with a smirk. “It’s so much fun to see him turn that lovely shade of puce.”

Thalassa laid down her fork. “I’m sorry. I’m not feeling very well. Would you please excuse me?” she said stiffly and got up from the table. She quickly made her
way up the stairs while Fred and George stared after her in surprise.

Mr. Weasley sighed heavily. “Lads, perhaps you should give some thought to acting like adults for a change. That girl needs a father for her baby, not two more children to raise.”

Fred and George exchanged a guilty look. “I’ll go talk to her,” George said, pushing his chair back.

“No,” Bill stopped him. “I owe her an apology for yesterday and it’s pretty obvious she doesn’t want to see either of you at the moment.” He stood and followed Thalassa up the stairs.