A/N: Hi! Thank you so much for the reviews, I'm so happy with the response I received for this! I thought everyone would be sick of Fred and Vi...guess I was wrong! It was definitely not a good idea to start this though...there's something else I should be updating right now that I left on a massive cliffhanger. Oops. Anyway, enough of my rambling – please review and thanks for reading!
And I never saw you coming
And I'll never be the same again
This is a state of grace
This is a worth while fight
Love is a ruthless game
Unless you play it good and right
These are the hands of fate
You're my Achilles heel
This is the golden age of something good
And right and real – State of Grace, Taylor Swift.
When Fred opened the door to the flat that evening, the first thing that struck him was that he was pretty sure he could hear a cat being strangled. Or maybe a dog whining. It even sounded a tiny bit like a fly buzzing, really shrilly. Then he realised.
It was Viria singing.
Clicking the door quietely shut behind him, Fred found Viria dancing around the kitchen. She had her back to him, and clearly hadn't heard him come in. She had the radio on loud, singing along to a song he'd never heard before – probably something from a Muggle radio station, she'd always liked their music. It looked like she was making cupcakes.
"We are never ever ever getting back together, we are never ever -"
"Um...Vi?"
Viria spun round, grinning sheepishly, "I didn't hear you come in"
"Clearly" Fred grinned back, moving into the kitchen, "Enjoying yourself, were you?"
"Yes! I found a new cupcake recipe, orange chocolate. It looks pretty good. You want some?" she held out the mixing spoon, and Fred brought it to his lips to taste the cake mixture.
"Delicious" he agreed, and Viria beamed.
"Thanks" she reached towards the radio and turned the volume down as the song ended, "I do hope I didn't lose you any customers with my singing"
"I couldn't hear it from downstairs, but I think you might lose yourself a husband if you carry on with it once I'm home" he was trying not to laugh at the indignant look on Viria's face, and when she saw that, she smiled again.
"Okay, okay. It can't have been that bad"
"Vi. Seriously. It was that bad"
"Oh" she gave him another sheepish grin, and started spooning the mixture into the cake cases, "I'll make it up to you with cakes"
"Or more than cakes?" Fred suggested, resting his hands either side of her waist. Viria shrugged him off.
"At least let me put the cakes in the oven first! I mean, really..." her exasperation only thinly veiled the smile in her voice.
"Fine, fine" Fred backed away, "What's for dinner?"
Viria suddenly stopped moving, her hand frozen over the baking tray. Fred frowned.
"Vi?"
She turned around slowly, her eyes widened appealingly and her mouth in a little round 'O', like it always did when she'd done something wrong.
"Cupcakes?" she offered, looking guiltily at him from under her eyelashes. Fred snorted with laughter.
"Oh dear. You completely forgot, didn't you?"
"Maybe? Oh, Fred, I'm sorry! I'm no good at this whole housewife thing, am I? I'll cook something proper for you tomorrow, I promise"
"It's okay" he laughed, putting his hands on her waist again and drawing her closer, "But you'd better not forget tomorrow. George is coming back, remember, and he'll be very upset if he doesn't get any food. He's almost as bad as Ron"
Viria snorted too, "Okay, I promise! Poor George. A whole weekend sampling the delicacies of Paris with his new 'friend' Angelina and having to come back to a plate of macaroni cheese"
"I'm sure it'll be delicious macaroni cheese" Fred retorted placatingly, lips pressed against her neck. Viria shrugged him off again.
"If you don't let me put these in the oven, you'll not be getting anything to eat at all!"
"If you can cook snails, surely you can do macaroni cheese or spaghetti bolognaise or something?" Ginny taunted, clearly confused. Viria flicked the white sauce from the pan at her friend's freckled face.
"Stop it! I thought I could, too. Turns out I'm not the domestic goddess I thought I would be"
"What's that saying about good wives? Chef in the kitchen, whore in the bedroom and all that?"
"I've definitely got one of them covered" Viria shrugged, winking at Ginny. Ginny peered over her shoulder at the lumpy-looking sauce.
"Well it's definitely not the chef part, is it? Blimey, Viria, I've never seen anyone mess up a white sauce before! Ever"
"Oh, leave me alone!" Viria cried, running out of patience, "I can't do anything!"
Ginny looked at the tears in her friend's eyes and sighed, "Okay, Viria, it's okay. Your hormones are really playing havoc with you today, aren't they? That's the second time you've been moved to tears this morning!"
Viria swiped at her eyes impatiently, and looked suddenly up at Ginny with a huge beam on her lips, "I've thought of something!"
Ginny leapt down from the kitchen worktop, gawping, "You have?"
"Carbonara! Papa used to make it with me when I was little. I'm sure I can still remember it"
Ginny felt herself visibly sag with relief. Viria's stress over the cooking was starting to do her head in.
"Thank God for that" she muttered to herself, and moved to help her best friend.
"You did a really great job with the food. It was a great homecoming present. Thanks" George had come out to the kitchen where Viria was supervising the plates and cutlery magically cleaning themselves. She smiled at him.
"It was nothing, really" she said with a casual shrug, as though she hadn't almost had a nervous breakdown over the meal. In the end it had turned into such a success that she'd invited Harry, Ginny, Ron, Hermione, Neville and Luna to share it with them.
"How was your weekend away?" Viria queried, recalling how George had insisted she not invite Angelina. He squirmed under her inquisitive gaze.
"It was...I don't know. Good"
"Something happened, didn't it?" Viria asked, eyes narrowing, "What did you do, George?"
"Nothing!" he protested, holding up his hands just like Fred did when in trouble, "Nothing"
"George, you're my husband's twin. If I wasn't able to tell when you were lying I'd be a pretty crap wife" she said sternly, eyeing her favourite brother-in-law with suspicion. George sighed heavily.
"I don't really know what went wrong. It was all going so well – "
"You slept with her, didn't you?" Viria realised, eyes widening, "You did, didn't you?!"
"No! Well...yes. But she wanted to, it wasn't like I forced myself on her or anything. It was..." he reddened. Viria did too.
"You can talk to Fred about what the sex was like, I really don't want to hear that. But what happened afterwards?"
Looking relieved that she didn't want too many details, George continued, "I don't know. I thought it would mean that we were...well, a couple, but she didn't seem too excited by that idea. I thought I was a commitment phobic, but she looked terrified everytime I even tried to bring up the subject! And then we hardly talked for the rest of the trip, and she won't answer my calls. I don't know what went wrong"
"Aw, George" Viria squeezed his hand, sympathetic, "It's going to be fine. Everyone can see the spark between you. You should go to see her, now. Go and find her and tell her exactly how you feel, that you understand if she's not ready but you needed to see her. There's nothing a woman likes more than a declaration of love"
"Seriously?" George looked doubtful, "Won't that just scare her off even more?"
"Trust me. Go to her" Viria urged, "You'll regret it if you don't"
"Regret what?" Fred appeared in the kitchen, "George, you were supposed to be getting dips for the crisps"
"It's my fault. I started asking him about the trip"
"Ah" Fred's eyes lit up with interest, "Really? And that led on to the subject of regrets? Uh oh"
"Uh oh indeed" George agreed wearily, rolling his eyes, "Your lovely wife is trying to persuade me to go to Angelina and tell her how I feel"
"You should!" Fred agreed earnestly, "Seriously, George, think what would have happened if I hadn't told Vi how I felt! You have to do it, if you really care about her"
"I do"
"Then go!" Viria cried, "Let me and Fred be the matchmakers for once, won't you?"
"That's the other thing I came to the kitchen to tell you" Fred began, lowering his voice, "Another of our matchmaking plots has succeeded. Luna and Neville are holding hands, they won't let go of each other for anything. Something's definitely happened there"
"Yes!" Viria squealed, clapping her hands, "See, George, you have to trust us now! Please?"
George reached for his coat, still draped carelessly over the chair he'd chucked it on earlier, "Fine. I'll go. But if it all goes wrong I'm blaming you"
"I agree to those terms" Viria conceded, ushering him out the door, "Go!"
Once the door had slammed behind him, Viria turned back to her husband, wrapping her arms around his waist.
"I love the idea of us being matchmakers" she said happily, "Think, in another sixteen years, we can matchmake the baby!"
Fred laughed, kissing the tip of her nose, "Not if it's a girl. If it's a girl, she's not being matchmade until she's thirty-five. At least"