To Dare

A/N: Another mid-week update to make up for the evil cliffhangers.

To Dare

Chapter Eighteen

Bill checked the third floor bathroom first. “Thalassa? You in there?”

“Go away, please.” Her voice was muffled, but she didn’t sound like she’d been sick.

“Are you all right?”

“Fine. Absolutely spiffing.”

“Fair enough,” he answered. “I’ll just be out here if you need anything.”

He heard her mutter something to herself that sounded suspiciously like, “Human Bludgers, the whole lot of them.” Then he heard the lock snick open. He opened the door cautiously. She was sitting on the floor leaning back against the side of the bathtub and her eyes were very red. He got a flannel from the cabinet under the basin, wet it with cold water, and handed it to her.

“I’ve apologized to Fred and George, but I didn’t tell you how sorry I am for yesterday.” He sat on the floor next to her. “I was wrong and I don’t have any excuse for acting like a right arse. Fred told me you’re the reason I’m still in one piece today. And after all I said to you.”

“We both said regrettable things.” She glanced up at his scarred face. “I don’t actually feel that you’re loathsome or unspeakable. Your condition…it’s a war wound, a mark of your courage. In any case, you were trying to look out for your little brothers. I can’t fault you for that.”

His ears turned red. “That’s no excuse for hurting you, though.”

“You didn’t hurt me. You just made me angry. Apparently, that’s all too easy to do these days.”

“Side effect of pregnancy. I remember…” he paused, went still for a moment, and then cleared his throat. “Still, you’d be perfectly within your rights not to forgive me. Tell me to bugger off.”

“I rather thought I had, but you were prepared to plant your arse outside the door ‘til I let you in or came out.”

“I meant for good. If the twins were prepared to defy Mum and Dad and move in with you, they’d have surely refused to have anything more to do with me if you asked them to.”

“I’d never do that. Family is important to you Weasleys. I know better than to ask Fred and George to choose between any of you and me. Besides, this little one is going to need her Uncle Bill.”

“’Her’?” Bill asked a slight smile pulling the scars on his cheek sideways.

“I can hope, can’t I? Your mum just might forgive me if I give her a granddaughter.”

“Good luck. Ginny’s the first girl in generations of Weasleys. Besides, Mum’s already half-forgiven you. You’re quite a formidable witch.”

“Oh I am not,” she sighed. “I can barely manage spells that all of you seem to take for granted and it’s actually a relief that I won’t be able to Apparate for the next few months.”

“I meant the way you keep Fred and George from getting too far out of line.”

Her expression darkened and she looked away.

“They’re idiots, you know.”

“They are not,” she contradicted. “They just haven’t had enough time to adjust to the idea of being fathers yet.” She hiccoughed and buried her face in her hands. “Everything is all mucked up. I wanted to tell them first and let us have a few days before we told anyone else. We were just getting things sorted out between the three of us and now this.”

“Shh,” Bill soothed, putting his arm around her shoulders. “I’m sorry I ruined that for you, but they don’t need to grow up overnight. You have nine months to get everything settled.”

She sniffled. “Seven and a half, actually, but I get the point. I’m feeling sorry for myself. It’s just, there’s this huge responsibility now, and they don’t quite get that part of it yet. I feel like we’re not on the same roll of parchment anymore.”

“You three seem to have done all right so far. This can’t be that much more difficult.”

“It’s different. Always before, we had something uniting us. At first, it was keeping our relationship a secret. Then it was withstanding your parents’ disapproval. Not the most mature things to build upon. This could easily drive a wedge between them and me. It doesn’t matter if they grow up or not, but I have to. I don’t feel like I have the luxury of being able to laugh at all their immature jokes anymore. Even if they’re really funny,” she added with a quiet chuckle. “It’s one of the things I love most about them, their sense of humour.”

“Good Lord, no wonder they both fell in love with you. There’s not another woman in the entire British Empire that could appreciate their pranks.”

“And we’re supremely conscious of how lucky we are, believe me,” Fred interrupted, pushing the door open. He and George stood there, looking quite contrite.

“Eavesdropping?” She frowned.

“Shamelessly,” George admitted. “We promise to do better as long as you promise to laugh at any of our jokes that you find funny, no matter how childish.” He stepped forward and held out his hand to her.

“You’re going to have to do a whole lot more than ‘better,’ but I promise.” She took his hand and he helped her to her feet.

“Quidditch game on the WWN in ten minutes,” Fred said with what he hoped was a winning smile. “If we stay, we might be able to cadge another meal.”

“I didn’t realize my cooking was that bad,” Thalassa said dispiritedly.

“It’s not,” Fred back-pedalled.

“She’s teasing you, you prats,” Bill said, getting to his feet.

She threw him a sour look. “You’re not supposed to tell them that. How am I supposed to keep them in line if you take away my best weapons?”

The four of them shared a laugh as they started back down the stairs. They crowded into the living room and Bill turned on the radio. Thalassa sat between Fred and George on the couch, careful to keep her displays of affection toned down to smiles and warm glances. Fred had his arm across the back of the couch behind her shoulders, but he and George were equally circumspect. None of them wanted to upset the fragile peace. As the match progressed, they discussed the plays and commented on the strategies that unfolded. Bill was amazed at Thalassa’s store of Quidditch knowledge.

“Told you she was mad for the game,” Fred smirked.

Thalassa started to laugh with him, but yawned instead.

“Tired?” he teased.

“No,” she replied a bit defensively. She’d had quite a lie in, after all. “Just sleepy.”

Mrs. Weasley looked up from her knitting and frowned. “You should have your feet up. Your ankles will start to swell in a few months. Best get in the habit of putting them up now. Fred, George, one of you move and give her room.”

“It’s all right, Mum,” George said. “Here, Thalassa, lie down and put your feet here,” he patted his thigh. “I promise not to let Fred pick on you if you fall asleep.”

“Smart-arse,” she murmured, but smiled a little and did as he suggested, lying down with her head in Fred’s lap. George began massaging her instep and she gave a small sigh of contentment. Soon she was fast asleep.

Fred glanced down when the sound of her breathing changed. “No, not tired at all,” he said gently, stroking her cheek with one finger.

“She’s going to need more sleep than usual,” Mrs. Weasley said quietly. “Quite a few things will have to change.”

“Yes, Mum,” sighed George. He carefully moved Thalassa’s feet off his lap and stood up. “I’ll just carry her upstairs and put her to bed if you don’t mind, Fred.”

“That’s fine.”

George lifted her carefully. She slid her arms around his neck and sighed deeply. “Oh George,” she said sorrowfully. “Your mum hates me.”

The clicking of the knitting needles stopped. Fred looked over at his mother’s stricken face. “She talks in her sleep when she’s under stress,” he explained in a low tone.

“Shh,” George soothed. “Mum doesn’t hate you.”

“Yes she does,” Thalassa argued plaintively. “She doesn’t like it that I sent my badge back and she thinks I’m a tart because I’m with you and Fred.”

He walked out with her in his arms. “Mum doesn’t care about that stupid badge and she doesn’t think you’re a tart.”

“Oh.” Pause. “Well, my mother hates me.”

“Your mum doesn’t hate you either. Go back to sleep.”

“All right.”

He started up the stairs as she fell silent and her head lolled against his shoulder. When he got to the third floor landing, Ginny’s door was closed. He wasn’t going to wake Thalassa to open it, so he continued up to his and Fred’s room. Fred’s bed was closer to the door and he set Thalassa on it with a sigh of relief. She was still far too thin, but four crooked flights of stairs made him aware of every pound she’d put on in the past month or so. Rather than shift her around again, he pulled the blanket off his bed to cover her. Then he sat down on the side of the bed to watch her sleep.

George hadn’t trusted himself to look up when Thalassa began talking in her sleep, but he’d heard his mum gasp and stop knitting. He rather thought it would do his mother some good to realize how badly she’d hurt Thalassa. It was all very well for Mum to set aside her grudge for the sake of the baby, but Thalassa deserved better than that. Family, especially this family, couldn’t have been more important to Thalassa. Protecting Bill after the way he’d treated her was a perfect example, and defending Percy all the time, not to mention the way she’d insisted he and Fred go home for Sunday dinner each week. Thalassa had even tried to develop an appreciation for Celestina Warbeck. She’d make a good mother, he realized and the thought made him smile.


When the match was over, Mrs. Weasley set aside her knitting with a frown. “What can be keeping George?”

Fred tamed the smirk that automatically tried to surface on his face. “Relax, Mum. He’s just watching her sleep. He enjoys that. So do I, come to think of it, but George is fascinated. I think he hopes she’ll spill more of her secrets when she talks in her sleep.”

“I’m just going to go check on them.” She heaved herself to her feet.

Fred sincerely hoped he was right about George and Thalassa, but he didn’t dare suggest that Mum might want to leave well enough alone.

Mrs. Weasley slowly made her way up the stairs, hanging on to the banister. The stairs seemed to get steeper and more uneven every day. Ginny’s door was closed and the room empty when she checked, so she went up another flight to check the twins’ room. Their door was ajar and she found George just as Fred had said, watching Thalassa sleep. Mrs. Weasley studied her son’s profile for a moment while he was still unaware of her, standing in the doorway. His mouth curved in a tender smile and his face glowed with love.

They really are perfect for one another, she thought. It should have been so simple. Why did Fred have to get involved and complicate everything? She sighed and George turned at the sound. He stood carefully, quietly followed his mother out into the corridor and closed the door behind them.

“She doesn’t actually think I hate her, does she?” Mrs. Weasley whispered.

“You heard her, Mum. What do you think?” he replied.

“Well, I don’t hate her. I’m just very disappointed. This arrangement isn’t what I would have liked for any of you.”

George stepped away from the door and went to sit on the stairs. “To be honest, Mum, it wasn’t my first choice either.” He reached for her elbow to steady her as she carefully lowered herself to the step next to him. “There’s no help for it, though. Fred loves her every bit as much as I do.”

“What are you going to do if Fred turns out to be the father?”

“Help them raise it. Father the next one, if she can be persuaded to have more,” he replied.

“She can’t very well marry both of you.”

“No she can’t,” he agreed, “and she’s said that because she can’t, marriage isn’t an option for us. Fred and I teased her about starting a family anyway.” He shook his head. “I should have realized that whole discussion was just her subtle way of finding out how we would react when she told us she was pregnant.”

“But—“

“Mum, look,” George said gently. “This is the way it is. I know you don’t like it. I know it’s going to cause a scandal. I’m sorry for the trouble this is going to make, especially for Dad. I’m even sorry for the trouble it’s going to cause Percy, but I love her. The only way I’m going to give her up is if she tells me she’d be happier without me.”

“I feel exactly the same way, Mum.” Fred had come up the stairs so quietly that neither George nor Mrs. Weasley had heard him.

“How long have you been listening?” George asked, his voice only conveying mild curiosity.

“Since ‘Fred loves her every bit as much as I do.’ It’s true, you know. You might as well ask me to stop breathing as give her up.”

Mrs. Weasley just sighed. George eyed her uncertainly and decided he’d said enough for now. He gave Fred a speaking look and his twin took the hint.

“Actually, George, I was going to Apparate back to the flat, check on the owls and pack some things. I though we could stay the night again, if that’s all right with you, Mum.”

“This is still your home,” was her response.

“I’ll go with you,” George said. “If Thalassa wakes before we get back, tell her where we’ve gone, won’t you?”

“Yes, yes,” she waved impatiently. George helped her to her feet. “I’d still feel better about this if one of you would just marry her.”

“We plan to ask her,” Fred said. “But it’s still her decision. There’s nothing we can do if she says no. It won’t mean we’re shirking our responsibilities.”

“I should be grateful I lived to hear the words ‘our responsibilities’ come out of your mouth,” she teased.

“Yes, well, we’re going to be fathers. I suppose it’s time we grew up. Come on Fred. I’d like to be back before Thalassa wakes.”


When they arrived at the flat, they immediately knew something was wrong. As soon as George touched his wand to the door to unlock the security charms, it swung open. The devastation they found inside was unbelievable. The shelves had been tipped over and all of Thalassa’s media players were smashed. The couch and chair were slashed and the stuffing pulled out. All the crockery was on the kitchen floor, mostly broken, and the contents of the refrigerator dumped out. Ixchel fluttered madly about their heads, hooting frantically. All of the potions Thalassa had stored under her worktable were spilled. Everything had been pulled out of the armoire and vanity drawers and Thalassa’s old school trunk opened and upended. The mattress was off the bed and the bedcurtains pulled down. The snowglobe Ginny had given Thalassa for Christmas was shattered on the hearth. Hodge clung to the perch he shared with Ixchel, his right wing bent awkwardly. Worst of all, though, Thalassa’s Silver Arrow was snapped in half and laid on her worktable.

“Bloody hell!” Fred swore.

George was trying to calm Ixchel. “Hush now. You did what you could. Settle down. I need you to carry a message to Ron.” The tawny owl finally landed on his shoulder while he wrote a quick message using a broken quill dipped in a puddle of spilled ink.

Fred went to the fireplace and lit a fire with his wand. He threw on some Floo powder and said, “The Burrow.” He bent to stick his head into the flames. “Mum, Dad, Bill!” he called when he could see the kitchen.

Bill ran in from the other room, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley close behind. “What is it?”

“Someone’s broken into the flat. Everything’s destroyed. Keep Thalassa there until we can get things cleaned up.”

“I’ll come help,” Bill volunteered. “It’s the least I can do after yesterday.”

“Fine,” Fred agreed and pulled his head out of the fire. He threw on another pinch of Floo powder and said, “Eeylops Emergency Service.” He contacted an Animal Healer with the service, described Hodge’s injury, and gave them the address of the flat.

Ron got there first with three other Aurors including Tonks. They began casting their spells to collect evidence immediately. The Eeylops service arrived soon after to take Hodge for treatment.

Bill walked in just as the Healer was leaving. “Mum’s called Percy back to the Burrow and she suggested you call Hermione to help with this lot. Good Lord.” Bill was taken aback by the scope of the damage.

Fred gave his older brother a hard look. “Glad you’re here, Bill,” he said. He picked up the pieces of Thalassa’s broom and thrust them into Bill’s hands. “You can start with this.”

“Ah, no,” he mourned.


When Thalassa woke, it was full dark and she didn’t know where she was. She reached out to either side and winced when her wrist collided with the sharp corner of a bedside table. She felt around on the tabletop until she found a wand. “Lumos,” she said and looked about the room. Not her flat, and not Ginny’s room, either. Twin beds, adverts from Zonko’s pinned up on the wall, and scorch marks in the corner told her this must be Fred and George’s room. She got out of bed and padded to the door. “Nox.” She put her wand in her pocket and went out into the corridor. She found the loo first, then made her way downstairs. She was surprised to find Percy seated at the kitchen table, talking with Mr. and Mrs. Weasley. Thalassa stopped uncertainly on the bottom step.

“There you are,” Mrs. Weasley said kindly. “Did you have a nice rest?”

“Yes, thank you. How long was I asleep?”

“Oh, about four hours.”

“Four hours,” Thalassa echoed faintly.

“Are you hungry?”

Thalassa’s stomach contracted. “Not just yet.” She finally descended the last step and sat at the table across from Percy. She gave him a tentative smile. “Hello, Percy,” she said softly. “It’s nice to see you again.”

“Hello, Thalassa. Mum tells me congratulations are in order.”

“Yes, I suppose they are. Thank you.” She was surprised at his calm reaction.

“Can we expect a wedding in the near future?” he asked.

Thalassa looked down. “Since I haven’t received a proposal, I can’t really answer that.”

He gave an exasperated snort. “Trust Fred and George to pull a stunt like this.”

She pressed her lips together to hold back a sharp reply. “That’s not fair,” she said carefully. “The three of us have barely had a moment alone since they found out.” Her eyes filled with tears. “And I don’t know what I’d say if they did ask. I’m sorry if this makes things difficult for you at the Ministry.” She included Mr. Weasley in her apology. “I never meant to cause trouble for any of you. Fine way to repay all your kindnesses,” she added miserably.

“Now don’t you worry about any of that,” Mr. Weasley said, patting her hand. “We’ve weathered scandals before. You concentrate on taking care of yourself.”

Thalassa sniffed a little and nodded, wiping her tears with the back of her other hand.

Mrs. Weasley put a cup in front of her. “Weak tea. It should help to settle your stomach.”

Thalassa murmured her thanks and took a cautious sip. “Where are Fred and George?”

“When you slept so long, they decided to pop back to your flat and pack some things. They thought it best if you all spent the night again.” Mrs. Weasley sat down at the table. “Did the midwife give you a due date?”

“No, she said it was too soon to make that prediction but I imagine it’ll be sometime toward the end of September.”

“And how soon can you have the Paternity Divination done?”

“I don’t know. I forgot to ask. I don’t even know how it works, and I’m not sure I want to have it done, in any case. I mean, I suppose I will if it’s important to Fred and George, but that’s another thing we haven’t had time to discuss.”

Mrs. Weasley glanced up at her clock. The twins’, Bill’s, and Ron’s hands were all set on ‘Travelling.’ “Ah, good. They should be arriving just…about…now.”

The back door opened and Thalassa looked up in surprise. First Percy was here, and now Hermione, and even Ron in his Auror robes. Thalassa’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “What’s going on?” she demanded, shoving back her chair and standing up.

Fred and George pushed through the cluster of people to go to her side. “Sit down a moment,” George said, taking her hand. Fred turned the chair next to Thalassa’s around and sat down facing her. George knelt on the floor on her other side.

Fred took a deep breath. “When you left the flat last night, do you remember setting the security charms on the door?”

“What? No, I—“ she stopped, her face going pale. “No,” she whispered. “I didn’t set the charms. I didn’t even lock the door. What’s happened?” She looked around at the rest of their brothers and Hermione. Only Ron would meet her eyes but his expression gave nothing away. “What’s happened?” she repeated, panic giving her voice an icy edge.

“Someone broke in while we were all here,” George said. “We’ve cleaned up the mess and fixed everything we could, but we had to send Hodge with the Eeylops Healer.”

“Ixchel?”

“Is fine, if a little upset,” Fred reassured her. “Nearly all your potions are gone and your greenhouse was pretty torn up. We couldn’t do anything for your telly and stereo and all that lot, and your mirror by the door is ruined. We could fix the glass, but…”

“It won’t hold the charms anymore,” Thalassa finished. “Was anything missing? Your brooms?”

“As far as we could tell, nothing was taken.”

She propped her elbow on the table and leaned her forehead into her palm. “Why? This doesn’t make any sense. Why would someone break in and not steal anything?”

“There are two possibilities,” Ron said. “One is revenge.”

“But I don’t have any enemies,” Thalassa protested, lifting her head. “I barely have any friends.”

“Think about it anyway. This sort of thing, it’s usually a jealous ex-lover.”

She blushed. “I don’t have any of those, either.”

“You’d be surprised how many people turn nasty when an old flame starts dating someone new,” he said.

“You don’t understand. I don’t have any ex-lovers, jealous or otherwise. Since I left school and until these two,” she indicated Fred and George with a nod of her head, “I only went on two dates, both with Ian.”

“What about before you left school?” Ron pressed.

“I didn’t really have time for that sort of thing back at school.”

“What about that Slytherin you went with to Hogsmeade that time?” Fred asked.

Thalassa frowned at him. “That was over before it got started. Don’t you remember? Flint and the rest of the Quidditch team worked him over with Beater bats for going around with me. He spent the whole Christmas break in the hospital wing. I visited him once while he was there to tell him not to bother with me any more, that I wasn’t worth taking a beating over. He seemed a bit relieved.”

“Fred, George, what about you two? Any ex-girlfriends that seemed to have a rough time letting go?”

“No,” they chorused defensively, their ears going red.

“I’ve tried to part on good terms with all the women I’ve dated,” George said with an uncomfortable glance in Thalassa’s direction.

“And I haven’t generally gone for the possessive types.” Fred shrugged apologetically.

Ron gave them a speaking look. “The other possibility is that someone was looking for something they didn’t find,” he continued. “Is there something you have, or that someone thinks you have, that’s of value?”

“More valuable than my potions? More valuable than numbered Lightning Bolts, second and third off the line? No.”

“Yes, you do,” Fred contradicted. “Why didn’t we see it before?”

Thalassa stared at him in confusion for a moment. “Dad’s books,” she said, finally understanding.

“Where are these books now?” Ron asked.

“Gringott’s. We rented a vault and stored them when we figured out what was in Dad’s notes. Nobody but the three of us knows what’s in them, though.”

“Someone does, or they at least suspect,” George said.

“Where’s your key?”

Thalassa hooked a finger under the chain around her neck and pulled her key out of her robes. “Fred and George have the other two. It takes all three keys to open the vault.”

“Perhaps you should destroy the books, or at least put it about that you did,” Mr. Weasley suggested.

Thalassa shook her head. “Anyone who knows me at all, knows I wouldn’t just destroy the record of my dad’s work.”

“Enough of this talk,” Mrs. Weasley said firmly. “You lot go wash up for supper.”

“I’m still on duty,” Ron said. “I have to go file my report.”

“I never thought I’d see the day when you turned down a meal,” Hermione teased.

“Tonks is a fairly lenient training officer, but I really do need to get back.”

“Well, I’m staying,” she replied with just a trace of defiance.

“That’s fine,” he said mildly. “See me out?”

She frowned at him and glanced significantly in the direction of Thalassa and the twins.

“Oh, right. Fred, George,” he walked over to them, “congratulations.” He shook Fred’s hand and clapped George on the shoulder. “Thalassa, welcome to the family.”

“Thank you,” she replied faintly.

“If you think of anyone…”

“I know, send you an owl.”

“Right. ‘Night, all.”

“Come home more often,” Mrs. Weasley scolded.

“Yes, Mum,” he sighed, catching Hermione’s hand and pulling her after him out the door so they could say their goodbyes privately.

Thalassa exchanged grins with the twins. “Go get cleaned up,” she told them. “I’m just going to help your Mum.”

“Oh no, dear. You go on,” Mrs. Weasley protested.

Thalassa stood and lifted her chin. “If you truly don’t want me in your kitchen, I’ll go, but I need to do something.” Her hands shook slightly as she held them out in mute appeal. “I’ve had plenty of rest. Please, if I’m to be part of this family, I should do my share.”

“Very well,” Mrs. Weasley agreed somewhat reluctantly and Thalassa smiled with relief as she rolled up her sleeves.

Assured that Thalassa was going to be all right, Fred and George took the bags they’d packed up to their room. Fred stared at his bed, pulling at his lower lip thoughtfully. The covers still held the imprint where Thalassa had lain. “Think Mum will fuss if Thalassa sleeps in here with us?”

“Almost certainly,” George answered.

Fred sighed. “I don’t care. I missed her last night. I missed being able to hold her.” He chuckled. “I even missed the way she sticks her cold feet on my leg.”

“I know what you mean. I missed the scent of her hair and I kept waking up because I couldn’t hear her breathing.”

“Gods, we are so pathetic,” Fred shook his head.

“Completely whipped,” George agreed. “Come on, let’s move the furniture.” They rearranged everything and changed their two single beds into one bed large enough to hold the three of them.


It felt right, crowded in around the kitchen table with everyone else. Mrs. Weasley kept urging her to eat, “Just a little more.” Fred and George were so well behaved, Thalassa was sure they were planning some mischief. Even Percy unbent more than usual. More than once, she found herself on the verge of tears, just listening to the flow of conversation. By the end of the meal, though, she was visibly wilting.

“Bedtime,” George said, pushing back his chair.

“Not yet,” Thalassa argued. “I need to help with the washing-up.”

“Not tonight,” Fred insisted. “You’ve had a long and trying few days and you need your sleep.”

She tried to protest further, but couldn’t get her first sentence out without stopping to yawn.

“Bed,” Fred ordered, but not too sternly. “Now. The baby needs sleep.”

Thalassa blushed and ducked her head, but allowed him and George to usher her upstairs. When she would have stopped at Ginny’s room, they pulled her along to the next flight of stairs.

“You’re with us tonight,” George explained.

“Is that all right with your parents?”

“We didn’t ask,” he admitted.

She stopped on the stairs and pulled her hands out of their grasp. “I knew you two were plotting something.”

“Come on,” Fred urged. “It’s not as if we can get you any more pregnant.”

“We miss you,” George added. “Just keep us company for a little while. We really do have things the three of us should discuss.”

She couldn’t argue with that, so she simply turned and continued up the stairs. George opened the door for her, but Fred swept her up into his arms. “What are you doing?” she laughed.

“Carrying you over the threshold. George got to do it earlier, though you were asleep.” Once inside, he set her on her feet and kissed her.

She noticed what they’d done with the furniture, but made no comment. She merely found the suitcase they’d packed for her and started rummaging through it for a nightgown. There wasn’t one. “You didn’t bring me anything to sleep in.”

“Sorry,” George apologized. “I suppose we’ve just gotten used to you not wearing anything to bed at home.” It wasn’t exactly the truth. They didn’t think she’d want to wear any of her nightgowns after the intruder had pawed through them.

“I’ll have to go get one of Ginny’s,” she sighed.

“No, I’m sure George and I can find something for you in the things we left here.” They searched through the chest of drawers and came up with a pair of track pants and a faded t-shirt that displayed the slogan ‘Quidditch=life’. They wouldn’t let her put on the shirt, though, until they’d healed her remaining bruises.

“You don’t have to,” she protested as she felt the tingling warmth spread across her skin.

“We should have done it last night,” George overrode her argument. “There,” he said as the last purple mark faded. She pulled on the t-shirt and sat down on the bed.

“You know, George,” said Fred, eyeing Thalassa up and down. “I don’t think we ever looked that good in those clothes.”

“I have to agree,” George smiled.

“Oh, I don’t know about that,” Thalassa teased. “I remember you wearing this t-shirt, George. And I’m reasonably sure I’ve seen you in these track pants once or twice, Fred. You both looked pretty good to me.”

“Really?” Fred raised one eyebrow. “I though you only had eyes for Oliver Wood back then.”

“That doesn’t mean I didn’t notice other things.”

“Well, right now, I’m noticing that it’s a bit chilly in here,” George said as he stripped down to his boxers. “Crawl up under the covers so we can share body heat.”

She complied without argument. It was cold in their room.

“So when did you first think you might be pregnant?” he asked, sliding into bed next to her.

“Last week, when we had our conversation about whether or not to cut your hair. I realized I was about two weeks late. Monday, I owled the midwife for an appointment. It wasn’t until Friday that I realized we’d forgotten to do the Infertility Curse on Christmas.”

“We did forget then, didn’t we?” Fred mused, settling in on her other side. “Well, I’m not surprised. You were pretty upset.”

“Still, I should have remembered,” she sighed.

“You’re not unhappy about this, are you?” George asked, a worried frown on his face.

“Not exactly,” she replied. “It’s just that this is going to cause so many problems for everyone.”

“Were you going to have the Paternity Divination done?” Fred asked.

“Is it that important?”

“It would be nice to know for sure,” he replied. “Then whichever of us isn’t the father of this one can father the next one.”

“I see.”

“What? Is that wrong?”

“No,” she said thoughtfully. “Are you saying you’ll feel differently about this baby if it’s George’s and not yours?”

“It doesn’t matter to me,” George spoke up. “I’ll love any child of yours just the same whether Fred’s the father or I am, but we both want the opportunity to have kids with you.”

“Oh, never fear,” she said mildly, “you’ll both share in the experience of parenting.”

“And what is that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing. You’re both allowed to feel how you feel, but this is a perfect example of why I wish we’d talked about all this before I got pregnant.”

“We’re talking about it now,” George reminded.

“All right. I want our child to have three parents, not two parents and a live-in uncle.” She kept her eyes on her hands, clasped tightly together, and waited.

Fred spoke first. “So you don’t want to have the Divination done?”

Thalassa took a deep breath and looked up. “Not particularly, no. It’s not as if the father could be someone other than one of you two. I just think if we’re all in this relationship together, we should share in all the responsibilities and benefits equally.” She looked from Fred to George. “It will mean you both get to be ‘Daddy’ right away,” she pointed out. She watched the grin spread slowly across George’s face and turned to see Fred wearing an identical expression of love and pride that was distinctly male. “But,” she said gently, “if it’s really important that you know who the biological father is, I’ll have the test done. Assuming the spell can tell the difference between the two of you, that is.”

“I never thought of that,” George said. “There’s no rush, I suppose, unless you wanted to get married right away.”

“I told you the other morning that marriage wasn’t an option for us.”

“You know, we’re both perfectly willing to marry you,” Fred said. “In fact, George told me when we got into that row at the apothecary that if I wasn’t intending to marry you, I should clear off.”

“That’s sweet,” she said dryly, “but unless we can figure out a way I can marry both of you, I’m not getting married.”

“It doesn’t feel right.” George frowned. “I mean, we’re responsible for you being pregnant. To not marry you, it feels like we’re abandoning you to your fate.”

“I don’t think you’d be permitted to abandon me, even if you wanted to,” she said with a tired smile. “Don’t get fussed over it. I’m the one who’s going to have to deal with the whispers and stares.”

“That’s what we’re talking about. We can protect you from that,” Fred said gently. “What difference does it make if only one of us can legally be your husband? We don’t have to let it change our relationship.”

She shook her head. “You’re wrong. Marriage changes everything.” She yawned hugely.

We can discuss this tomorrow,” George said firmly. “You should get some sleep now.”

“I should go back to Ginny’s room,” she said, her eyes drifting closed.

“Just stay here,” Fred murmured close to her ear. “You’re already settled and comfortable. We’ll tell Mum you fell asleep while we were talking and George and I didn’t have the heart to wake you up and move you.”

But Thalassa was already nearly unconscious and made no argument. The last thing she felt before drifting off was Fred and George each sneaking a hand under the covers to rest protectively on her belly.