After my fight with Fred, I showed up at Rachel's flat, pounding on the door and, at this point, full on crying.

Rachel opened the door in slight surprise, and when she saw me, her expression gave away the further surprise-and perhaps even alarm-that she clearly felt.

"Soph, what's wrong?" She asked, pulling me inside and shutting the door.

"Fred and I just got into a huge fight," I sniffled, taking a seat on the couch and putting my hands over my face as I took in a deep, calming breath. "I couldn't even stand to be in the same room as him any more."

"What'd the stupid prat do now?" Rachel asked with a sigh taking a seat beside me and gently rubbing my back.

I sniffled again and looked up at the ceiling. "He wants to have a baby."

Whatever Rachel had been expecting me to say, it clearly hadn't been that.

"Oh," she said, blinking rapidly a few times. "Right now?"

I let out a short, harsh laugh. "No. After we get married."

"Okay," Rachel said. She paused. "And that's so upsetting to you because...?"

I turned to look at her. "I don't know if it's something I want."

"Oh," Rachel answered.

I gave her the short explanation of what had gone down between me and Fred and what my feelings were on the topic of children.

"I think your feelings are completely valid," Rachel said when I was done. "No one should make you feel as if they aren't. And you're right about one thing-you shouldn't go into parenthood lightly. Not fully wanting it wouldn't be fair to anyone. Especially the baby. But you shouldn't be afraid to talk to Fred. He was right about that. How can you two expect to have a relationship if you can't talk about even the nittiest and grittiest of things? If you can't do that, then what can you talk about?"

"I just couldn't bear to see him get so upset that I felt that way," I told her. "I behaved the same way in New York when I was afraid to sleep with him. And to do it again? To keep doing it? Where does it end? That isn't fair to him either. And if I keep doing this, regardless of if I can necessarily help the way I feel, who's to say Fred won't give up and go find someone who will give him what he wants? Someone who isn't so difficult?"

"Fred Weasley has never been one to shy away from difficult," Rachel snorted. "When he wants something, he makes sure he gets it. And he wants you."

"But there's a part of me worrying that one day he won't. I want to make him happy, Rach. And I want to be happy too. But the road to happiness isn't always well-paved, is it? Especially for me, it seems."

Rachel snorted. "You have a point. I also think that it's one thing for you to be afraid, and like I said, your feelings and reasons are valid. They make sense. But you can't keep pulling away this much. That doesn't do any good either. Another thing Fred was right about was that you always wanted him to communicate with you, but now you're the one who isn't communicating."

I sighed heavily and sunk lower into the couch cusions. "You've sure been saying that Fred's right a lot."

Rachel shot me a wry smile. "I know. I never thought this moment would come. It's monumental."

"Okay, so maybe you-and Fred-have a point. But he does get even more blunt than usual when he's angry. He begins saying things without bothering to care about hurting anyone's feelings. In fact, I think he intentionally says things just to hurt them because he's angry. I couldn't talk to him tonight. Not with us both so furious."

"That may be true, but that doesn't mean you couldn't have talked to him before. The moment you began feeling hesitation about children. He still might've felt upset, but you said he even told you he was most hurt that you were afraid to come to him. That's what bothered him. Not your complicated feelings about having children."

"Doesn't excuse the fact that he was still an asshole about it," I muttered angrily, standing up from the couch. The hurtful things that Fred had said to me were running on a loop in my brain once more and making me angry all over again. I spun back around to face Rachel. "You know what I think I need? A drink. Possibly several."

Rachel raised her eyebrows. "Really? You're sure about that? From my experience, drinking your feelings doesn't always end well."

"I don't care," I said fiercely. I grabbed my bag again. "Get your things and owl Kayla and Allie. We're going to the Three Broomsticks."


Several shots of firewhiskey later, I was feeling a lot better. My argument with Fred was beginning to feel like a thing of the past. A foggy thing of the past.

"You know, I think this is the way to go," I sighed, resting my head on Rachel's shoulder, a huge smile lighting up my face. "Just spending time with my friends. Girl friends. Instead of men. Men are shit."

I hiccuped and lifted my head from Rachel's shoulder as Kayla appeared at my elbow. She had been getting more shots at the bar and she let out a loud laugh as she handed one to me.

"I'll drink to that," she said, taking a shot for herself and holding it out towards me. "To shitty men!"

I clinked the small glass against hers with a laugh before holding it to my lips, tilting my head back and downing it.

"You've gotten so good at that," Kayla sighed proudly. She looked at Rachel. "Look at our Sophie, all grown up."

"I don't know," Rachel said slowly, studying me intently. She lowered her voice and leaned closer to Kayla. "Maybe we should cut her off."

"Absolutely not!" Kayla exclaimed, aghast. "I have been waiting to see drunk Sophie." She nudged Rachel. "Come on, I wouldn't expect you of all people to suggest cutting someone off."

"I would if someone's about to get sick," Rachel said indignantly, shooting Kayla a scathing look. "Don't be ridiculous, Kayla, I'm not like that."

"How many times have you gotten sick and refused to let anyone try and cut you off," Kayla said. "I think that night in Salem fucked with your head."

"As it should have," Rachel answered hotly. "Sophie could have died and it would have been all my fault because I was wasted."

"Well, all that matters now is that Sophie is, in fact, alive and kicking," Kayla said, holding her glass out towards Rachel expectantly, waiting for Rachel to clink her own glass against it.

When Rachel didn't move, Kayla shrugged and took another long sip of her drink. She glanced at me and smiled as she noticed me absentmindedly nodding my head and swaying in time to the music that was playing.

"We probably should cut her off," Rachel muttered again. "She's about to go on a Fred tirade and he's not even entirely in the wrong for their fight."

Kayla scoffed and rolled her eyes. "Sophie looks fine to me now," she said. "She's in her own little world. I can't promise I'll stop her if she wants to go punch Weasley's freckled face in, but if she looks ready to puke, we'll get her out of here."

"Really good of you," Rachel said with an eye roll of her own. "We really should have brought Sophie straight back home to Fred. Or at least let her just stay the night at my place and send an owl to Fred letting him know she's okay."

"Let him worry," I said with a scoff, fully tuning back in to the conversation.

"Are you insane?" Rachel asked, wrinkling her nose.

"No, she's just drunk and mad at Fred at the moment," Kayla said. "She'll get over it."

"You shouldn't have walked out on him like that," Rachel told me. "He's probably wondering where you are or if you're even coming back."

"Of course I'm going back," I scoffed. "Once I clear my head and I'm not angry anymore."

"Fred doesn't know that."

"Of course he does," I replied.

"I don't know," Rachel said slowly. "The last thing he said to you was that you were just like your parents."

I scowled. "He said that to be an ass. He doesn't believe it."

"Still doesn't mean you should've left the way you did. It looks like you're proving him right."

"I'm going back, Rachel," I said hotly, shooting her a glare. "Am I not allowed to take some time to cool down after all that?"

"Of course you are, but you should've made that clear to Fred."

"It was implied," I argued.

"Implying it is not making it clear."

I shot her another look over the top of my drink. "Since when did you become such a stick in the mud?"

"Since you decided to throw away one of the best things to ever happen to you!"

"I'm not throwing anything away! Fred and I had a fight, that's all. It was a nasty fight, yes, but it's not that serious. I am just trying not to think about it for the time being."

"But I think you should think about it!"

I opened her mouth to retaliate, but Kayla interrupted. "Okay, I've heard enough of you two squabbling," she said, waving her drink around. She looked at Rachel. "Just go easy on her for a bit, okay? Lecture her when she's not drunk."

I noticed Rachel looked at me out of the corner of her eye, but I had started bobbing my head to the music again and decided to pretend I hadn't noticed after all.

Kayla turned back to me again, a grin on her face. "You know, I also can't believe you've finally joined the club."

"The club?" I hiccuped. I stopped dancing and peered at her curiously as I reached for my cocktail glass. I'd been enjoying some colorful drink with rum and orange juice before we'd started doing shots.

"The club of people who have told Fred Weasley to fuck off," Kayla explained. "It's an ever growing club. But I never thought you'd join."

"I didn't quite tell him to fuck off," I said. "It was more like I said fuck you."

"Same thing," Kayla laughed. "Usually you think the sun shines out of his ass too much for you to ever say anything like that to him." She gave me a sly smile. "At least in an angry way."

I shook my head. "Fred and I have our disagreements. Obviously."

"Didn't sound like a mere disagreement to me," Kayla said. "From what you said, it sounded like it was five seconds away from a brawl." She shrugged. "You know, men honestly just don't get it. It's so easy for them to say they want kids because it's easy for them to have kids. Physically, anyway. Fred won't have to do any of the literal physical labor."

"Exactly!" I cried, holding my drink out to clink against Kayla's again before taking a long sip. "That's what I was trying to tell him! He stood there at St. Mungo's in February while his sister-in-law was mid-labor and laughed with George about how he was glad it never had to be him. It felt like they thought it was a huge joke! It felt isolating! As if he could never possibly understand. As if he could be standing right next to me as I deliver a baby and he'd never understand how much pain I was in or what it even took to get to that point. Or even what was to come. Having kids is hard work and it just-it felt like he wasn't taking it seriously."

"You should have just told him that," Rachel said, swirling her straw around her own drink glass.

"I tried!" I hiccuped.

"How well did you try? Or how well did you even explain it? Did you just repeat back to him what he did and call him an asshole for it or did you tell him how it made you feel?"

"What is with you?" Kayla asked, turning to Rachel. "Can't you just let us shit talk men in peace? Usually you're all for joining in." She raised her eyebrows. "I guess things with Patrick are going really well."

"They are," Rachel admitted with a soft, wistful smile. "I really love him. Like-really love him." She looked at me. "You know, it was you that told me that I should tell him how I felt instead of waiting for him to tell me. And I'm really glad I did."

I smiled back, fleetingly. "I'm happy for you, Rach."

"Then maybe you'll let me give the same advice back to you," she said.

"What?" I asked, wrinkling my nose slightly.

"I know you're upset," she went on. "And I get that. You should be. Fred wasn't totally right in everything he said and did, but neither were you. And you also told me that I couldn't be sure about what Patrick was really thinking unless I talked to him. You encouraged me to tell him how I felt despite not having a clue how he'd react."

"Yeah, about being in love with him," I said. "It's different."

"How different is it really?" she shrugged. "You can't say for sure what's going through Fred's head. You can't speak for him. You were so afraid to talk to him for fear of disappointing him or seeing him upset, but you love each other. He's going to help you work through it. You have to work it out together. And you have to talk to him, even if it's hard. That's what relationships are. And I told you a few times that your feelings are still valid. I want to make sure you know that. You don't have to be ashamed for feeling a certain way, even if someone else doesn't agree. That's what you have to figure out together. How to make it work. But it's way better than continuing to hide it all until everything explodes."

I looked at her wearily. I was hearing her, but not truly processing what she'd said yet.

"I think she's too drunk for that kind of deep conversation," Kayla said. "Her eyes are practically glazed over."

I downed the rest of my drink. "Can't we just talk about this tomorrow? I'm so tired of talking about Fred and babies right now."

"Ooh, yes, I'll drink to that, too," Kayla said. "But in order to do that, you need another drink. Come on." She grabbed my arm and tugged me towards the bar.

"Kayla, no," Rachel chastised her. "Get Sophie a water."

"You're being a buzzkill!" Kayla shouted back.


The next morning, the sound of vomiting filled the otherwise quiet space of Rachel's flat.

It was the worst hangover I'd had since I'd come to London-because this was the most I'd had to drink since I'd come here. It was the most I'd had to drink in years, actually. Kayla and I had both vomited last night in the alley behind the Three Broomsticks, and now I'd been kneeling at the toilet for the past hour since I shot out of bed at six in the morning with only seconds to get to the bathroom.

"I told you we should've cut her off," Rachel's voice said from somewhere close by. She groaned. "Merlin, the sound of the vomiting is making my head hurt."

"So you're admitting you're hungover too," Kayla said feebly. "You can't talk about cutting people off, then."

"I'm not the one vomiting, Kay," Rachel snapped. "That was you and Sophie. Honestly, Allie and I should've cut you off as well last night. All you did was encourage Sophie."

"You haven't always been the poster child for sobriety," Kayla shot back. "You were just saying last night how you almost got Sophie killed in Salem because you were drunk."

"How dare you! And excuse me if I want to try harder to make sure that doesn't happen again!"

"No one's out to kill Sophie anymore," Kayla argued. "Honestly, last night was good for her. Sometimes a good night of drinking is exactly what someone needs."

"Not this much drinking!" Rachel replied shrilly.

"Can you two stop yelling?" I begged, trying to fight back another gag as my head pounded. "Please."

"What is going on?" Allie had appeared in the doorway, rubbing her eyes sleepily.

"Rachel's suddenly turned into someone's mother and is chastising me and Sophie for drinking."

"Kayla thinks being this drunk is a good thing," Rachel told Allie.

"It can be!" Kayla argued. "Sophie was wound up tighter than Bethany Turner's Yule Ball dress about her fight with Fred. Last night got her to loosen up. And now she's too busy thinking about being sick to think of Fred. Mission accomplished."

"Who's Bethany Turner?" I asked from the floor.

"Some girl we went to Hogwarts with," Allie explained. She let out a short laugh as she shook her head. "Kayla's right-her Yule Ball dress was really tight."

Even Rachel smiled slightly. "It looked like part of her skin."

"McGonagall almost died on the spot," Kayla laughed. "Made Bethany Transfigure it and even said she'd do it herself if the job didn't get done in three seconds." She laughed again, then stopped abruptly to groan, rub her forehead and lean against the wall. "By the way, Soph, are you almost done with the vomit catcher? I have a feeling I might be needing it."

I responded simply by shaking my head, unable to actually speak as I dealt with another sudden round of vomit.

"Guess that's a no," Kayla muttered.

Rachel let out a sigh and left the room for a moment before returning with two small vials. She handed one to Kayla as she passed her in the doorway, then came over to me. She stopped behind me and began pulling my hair back into a bun. She worked quickly and efficiently and when she was done, she crouched beside me and handed me the second vial.

"Hangover potion," she said. "It should help. You're lucky it's Sunday and today is your day off from the Leaky Cauldron. The rest of us have shifts, but...you can stay here. Take the day to get better and-and sort things out."

I nodded. I was glad I didn't have to spend the day at work looking and feeling like this. Besides, if I was at work, Fred would probably think to look for me there, either to talk to me or continue our fight, depending on how mad he still was. Either way, I wasn't sure if I wanted to see him yet.

I eventually stopped vomiting and Rachel and Allie got me situated in bed with some water on the bedside table. And then they began to leave for work.

"Rach?" I asked quietly, stopping her as she headed out of the bedroom.

She turned in the doorway and looked at me almost sympathetically. "Yes?"

I half-smiled. "You were right. Drinking your feelings doesn't end well. I feel like shit. Although, slightly less like shit after that hangover potion, so thanks for that."

Rachel laughed. "I told you. Believe me, I've done what you did several times. I know how you feel. I get it. But...Fred loves you. I know he's incorrigible and says things he doesn't mean and he's just downright rude sometimes. I know he feels anger pretty hard, but he also loves just as fiercely. He just doesn't show it the same way the rest of us do."

"So he shows it by saying things he knows will hurt me just for the sake of hurting me?" I sighed.

"When he made the comment about you being like your parents?" Rachel asked. "Yeah, that was pretty shitty. But I also really don't think you want to prove him right, do you? Which is why I thought you should've made it clear that you just needed space. And like I said, he told you right out all he really wanted you to do was trust him enough to tell him what you felt. He cares more about that then the issue of having children." She paused. "Did you retain anything of what I said to you at The Three Broomsticks last night?"

"About not being ashamed of my feelings but also not hiding them until things explode?" I asked, propping my head up on my hand and rolling onto my side. "Yeah."

Rachel nodded and gave me an amused smile. "Well...just think about it, okay? You've got the whole day to do some thinking. Figure some things out."

I nodded. "Could you just not mention anything to Tom and Martha? I don't want Tom to immediately go wring Fred's neck."

Rachel laughed. "Ah, so it turns out you do love him, huh? Last night you were all too ready to wring his neck yourself, but everything looks better on the morning, doesn't it?"

I nodded. "Thanks, Rach. Seriously. I owe you."

Rachel smiled. "Just feel better, okay?"

I gave another weak nod and fell back into the pillows as Rachel disappeared from the room and headed to work.

I stayed in bed for another few hours, tossing and turning and sleeping restlessly. Eventually, I flung myself out of bed with a heavy sigh. Clearly I wasn't going to get any real rest. I pulled on my clothes from the night before, only after checking to make sure no vomit had gotten on them. And then, I grabbed my things and headed out.

Rachel had said to take the day to figure some stuff out. And there was one place I could think of that just might help me.


Shell Cottage was just as beautiful today as it had been for George and Katie's wedding. I'd only been here once since then, but it looked just the same and just as peaceful as always.

I trekked across the sand until I reached the front door. I hesitated for a moment. And then I gave three quick knocks as I shifted from one foot to the other.

I heard the sudden sound of crying swelling up from behind the door. Loud and angry.

"Bloody hell, we just got her down to sleep," I heard Bill say.

Shit. I was disrupting something. But it was too late to leave now. I heard shuffling noises from the other side of the door.

"Don't worry about eet, Bill, I weel tend to her this time. You answer zee door."

The door suddenly swung open to reveal a slightly disheveled Bill. He stared at me in slight surprise for a moment. "Er-hi," he suddenly stammered. "What are you doing here? Is everything okay?"

"If I'm interrupting something, I can leave," I said, vaguely gesturing over my shoulder towards the way I'd come in. "I just-I wanted to talk to Fleur. And you, too, really." I smiled. "And also spend some time with Victoire and Dominique." My smile quickly fell as Dominique's cries reached an all time high. "But if it's not a good time-"

"No-erm-" Bill hurriedly glanced over his shoulder-"no, come in. It's okay." He stepped away from the door and let me inside. "Dom's just having a rough morning is all. Didn't sleep much last night."

"I can relate," I sighed as Bill led me into the kitchen.

"Is everything alright?" he asked. He reached for the kettle. "Tea?"

I nodded as I took a seat at the kitchen table. "Yes, please."

Bill put water in the kettle and set it on the stove. He turned on the heat and then waved his wand, sending two mugs flying out of one of the cupboard. One came to rest in front of me, and the other at the seat across from the one I was in. And then, finally, Bill turned and rested his palms on the counter as he looked at me. "Is everything alright?" he asked again. "You don't look all that well."

I let out a breath of laughter and rubbed a hand over my forehead before looking up at Bill. "To be honest? I'm a little hungover."

"Ah," Bill said with a quiet chuckle. He came to sit down across from me. "And is there any particular reason why you're hungover?"

"I was drunk last night," I said. "Isn't that typically how hangovers happen?"

"Ha, so witty," Bill answered, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms. "I meant was there any particular reason why you were drunk last night? I'm getting the sense it wasn't just a fun night out."

"I guess it would be all too easy to simply say Fred was the reason," I sighed, leaning back in my own chair and tracing my finger along the handle of the mug in front of me. It was a hand-painted blue mug with a green vine pattern weaving across the surface. It was pretty. I wondered vaguely who had painted it.

"Well, Fred has definitely been several peoples' reason for getting drunk before," Bill said. "He was even his own reason entirely too many times to count."

I swallowed and looked up at Bill with a sigh. "It wasn't just him. It was me, too. We got into a huge fight last night after we got home from Harry and Ginny's party. It takes two to fight-and I was the one to blame for what we argued about."

The kettle began whistling and Bill summoned it over from the stove before charming it to pour water into each of our mugs. "Remind me again-do you take anything in your tea?"

"Just honey if you have any."

Bill nodded and fetched me some honey. I spooned some into my mug and began to stir it. I knew Bill was waiting for me to elaborate. I figured I had to at this point. I'd come all the way here and I'd intended on talking to Bill and Fleur. But it just felt strange telling them all of this.

Just then, Fleur breezed into the kitchen and it was then I'd noticed Dominique's crying had stopped.

"I got her back to sleep," Fleur commented. "Let's hope she stays asleep for a bit." She suddenly noticed me and smiled. "Sophie!"

"Hi, Fleur. I'm sorry to drop by unannounced-and especially when Dominque's had a bad morning."

"Oh, no, don't apologize!" Fleur said dismissively. "Please-I'm glad to see you. We don't have many guests these days-and when we do, they want to see the baby or Bill and I have to tend to one or both of the children. You came at a good time, actually. Victoire's still asleep and now that I've gotten Dominique back to sleep, Bill and I are free to enjoy your company."

"There's some water left in the kettle for tea," Bill told her.

Fleur nodded and prepared herself a mug of tea before joining us at the table. She leaned back in her chair and let out a long sigh as she cradled her mug in her hands. "It feels so good to sit down."

I bit my lip as I watched her. She looked just as exhausted as Bill. Her hair was up in a messy ponytail and she had a smear of what looked like spit up on her shirt. Her skin was paler than ever and she had dark circles under her eyes. Merlin, if raising kids was difficult even for a normal couple like Bill and Fleur, how would it be for me? The queen of making things difficult?

Fleur finally opened her eyes and sat up straight. She raised her mug to her lips and took a small sip of her tea, looking at me over the top of it as she did so. "So-how are you?" she asked. "Not to sound blunt, but-you actually look worse than I do."

I actually let out a laugh. "I bet I feel worse, too."

"Sophie's hungover," Bill shared, an amused smile on his face as he took a sip of his own tea.

"That's funny to you?" I asked, smiling slightly back at him as I raised my eyebrows.

Bill shrugged. "Considering you've been so tame since I've met you. Don't tell me my brother rubbed off on you."

"Bill," Fleur said, shooting him a look.

Bill sighed. "She's right-I shouldn't have said that. I really only meant that Fred and George have had plenty of hangovers just from going out and having fun. But with the turn Fred took after Percy, that comment sounded-"

"I get it," I said. "Don't worry about it. We both know Fred isn't like that anymore-the way he was after Percy died, I mean. He's back to just getting occasional hangovers for fun. Although, I can't see why. They're awful."

Bill and Fleur both laughed. "That they are," Bill said. "Have you tried lemon or ginger? Or both?"

I shook my head.

"I should've made you ginger tea," Bill commented.

"She doesn't need lemon or ginger," Fleur said, getting up from the table. "She needs Buillon."

"What?" I asked, wrinkling my nose slightly in confusion.

"It's a broth," Bill explained. "Fleur swears by it."

"Eet is easy to digest," Fleur went on. "And eet has lots of vitamins and minerals that will help make up for what you lost by throwing up." She pulled out a container and held it up with a smile. "I happen to have some. I made soup with it for dinner last week." She put some into a bowl and warmed it up before setting it down in front of me. "There. That should make you feel better."

I looked down into the bowl, filled with the yellowy broth and various vegetables. I had to admit, it smelled great. I picked up the spoon Fleur had given me and took a bite. "This is amazing, Fleur," I said. "So good."

"Glad you like it," she beamed.

"So, are you going to tell us what your fight with Fred was about?" Bill asked as I ate. "I assume you came here in the aftermath for a reason."

"You fought with Fred?" Fleur asked sympathetically.

"Hence the hangover," Bill told her.

"I see." Fleur looked at me gently. "What's going on?" she asked.

I swirled my spoon around my soup for a moment. "Fred, um...really wants to start a family after we get married," I finally said. "And I-I'd like that, too. I can picture it. The having a family part, you know? The end result, I guess. But I keep hesitating to go all in. I'm scared. For a lot of reasons."

"Ah," Fleur said as she and Bill shared a look of understanding.

"Was last night the first time the topic ever came up?" Bill asked.

"Not quite," I answered. "He and I talked about it last year. I told him I saw a future with him. I told him I'd never had time to think about that kind of thing before-marriage, children, a family. But now that I had the time, I could see it. Which was the truth. But since then, I've had lots of time to think about it. More time to think about it. I've had nothing but time to think about it. And I started to feel hesitant. And I was afraid to tell Fred and not only disappoint him, but feel like a liar. I told him I saw a future with him and now I'm holding back? Would he believe me if I said the first bit is still true?"

"Of course he would," Fleur assured me. "As completely childish as Fred sometimes acts, he does understand complex emotions. He's had complex emotions."

I shrugged. "I guess you're right. Anyway, it's not having a family with him that I'm afraid of. It's feeling more unprepared for this than most. It's a little bit the pain of having a baby. And it's mostly the fear that I'm going to be complete shit at raising a child. Then there's a part of me that's feeling like I'm expected to do this. You two have just had another baby, Ginny's going to have a baby and I'm sure Hermione will have one soon, too. I've never had such first-hand experience with people I'm close to starting families. I never thought it a possibility for myself. Which means I've never put much thought into everything that goes into it. From pregnancy to labor to delivery to raising a child. And I know Fred will help me once the baby would be born, but the pregnancy is all me. What if even during that process, I manage to do something wrong? Like my own body just...fails?"

"I think you need to just stop assuming you're going to fail," Bill said bluntly. "I think it sounds like your fear is failure, not actually having kids."

I nodded. "I think I agree with you. And sometimes I fear that Fred's never going to understand what I'm going through. He's never going to understand those worries. I'm afraid of it all being a very lonely process. And a painful one that maybe I won't be able to handle."

"You handled Eric," Bill said. Fleur kicked him under the table and he winced. "I meant that in a good way. Look at what you survived."

"Yeah, but because of that, I'm afraid of going through that much pain again."

"I won't lie to you," Fleur said, "it is painful. But it isn't as lonely as you think. Fred may not be able to relate, but I can. Ginny will be able to. So can Molly. Just think-she's delivered seven babies."

Bill snorted. "Yeah, well Mum's great at making things look easy, so maybe we shouldn't go by her example."

Fleur rolled her eyes. "Regardless, she's been through it. And what about your own mother? You could talk to her if you feel comfortable enough to do so."

I nodded. She was right. "But what if I'm not a good mother?" I asked. "I don't know the first thing about taking care of babies."

"You know some things," Fleur assured me. "You've helped with Victoire and Dominique. And they both feel comfortable with you. And they like you. Victoire doesn't yank out fistfuls of just anyone's hair, you know."

I actually laughed. "That's comforting." I took in a deep breath as I finished off my soup. "I just-haven't had many positive role models or any real guidance until recently. I've let so many negative parts of my past go, but so much of it is still with me. I'm afraid I'll be screwed up forever or that I'm just too defective to raise a child properly. And I was afraid to tell Fred all of this because I know how much he wants a family and I know how he tends to think things are so simple. And he has such an unbelievable and unwavering amount of faith in me. He thinks I can do anything."

"He adores you," Fleur said quietly, a small smile on her face.

I smiled too as I stared into my tea. "I love him for feeling that way, but at times, when I don't feel that way about myself, I feel like a-a fraud or something. I feel overwhelmed." I sighed. "Anyway, all of that combined with the fact that I felt Fred wouldn't be able to relate to what I'd have to go through and the fact I thought he'd see me as a liar or as someone who was leading him on-I just didn't think he'd understand, no matter how hard he'd try. I thought he'd just be angry."

"So you kept it all to yourself," Fleur said.

"So I kept it all to myself," I repeated, slowly nodding my head. "For months. Fred knew something was up and kept asking me about it, but I avoided him. I avoided the entire topic until it all boiled over. I shouldn't have done that. I've seen what it can do-I've preached about it to Fred from my stupid high horse multiple times. But now-I suddenly couldn't follow my own advice."

"Then perhaps you should apologize," Fleur shrugged. "Tell him exactly what you told us. People can't be perfect all of the time, you know. We make mistakes."

"And I'm going to guess he said some pretty nasty and hurtful things to you last night as well," Bill said. "Otherwise, you wouldn't have gone out and gotten drunk."

I nodded. "That wasn't the answer either, though." I groaned. "I was so angry that I behaved exactly like Fred's old self. Everything he worked so hard to overcome-the pent up feelings, using alcohol to deal with anger...I went ahead and did all of it. What is wrong with me?"

"We all make mistakes," Fleur said. "What matters is if, and how, we work to fix them."

"You shouldn't shoulder all the blame, either," Bill said. "You're not the only one who did a few things wrong. You said yourself it takes two to fight. Fred is honestly probably kicking himself now. He always does that. He gets extremely hot headed and then calms down and sees reason. Sometimes with George's help."

"You know," Fleur began, leaning forward and resting her elbows on the table. "I was afraid to become a mother as well. Terrified, really."

"You? Really?" I asked, glancing up at her.

She nodded. "Most people are afraid to become parents. I had similar worries to you. How badly would it hurt? What if something went wrong? What if I accidentally did something wrong? What if I made a mistake and did something to put my baby in danger? I got a little crazy. I would worry about accidentally and unknowingly feeding the baby something they could be allergic to. I worried that I'd unknowingly put them to bed wrong or hold them wrong or feed them wrong. I was worried about messing up because I didn't know some bit of information. It nearly drove me mad."

"And me as well," Bill said. "You should have heard her. Every day, she'd give me a new scenario. What if I drop the baby? What if I fall with the baby in my arms? What if the high chair or the crib breaks? What if they're allergic to the soap I bought for their baths? Any possible scenario, she thought of it. Believe me."

"It's normal to be scared, Sophie," Fleur said. "And, yes, having children is hard. Look at me." She gestured to the spit up stain on her shirt. "I have various stains on my clothes every day. Half of them are mystery stains. I don't even know what they are. I'm exhausted. Bill and I both are. You heard Dominque screaming just this morning. I'm sure Bill told you she didn't sleep last night. But we've taken turns trying to get her down and we take every few seconds of down time we can get. We're figuring it out. And it is all worth it in the end. We have two beautiful daughters. And when we look back at our hard work, we're proud of it." She smiled wryly. "Mostly."

Bill snorted. "Yeah, like I was really proud when Dominique spent hours last night screaming into my face. Or after dinner last night when Victoire was too overwhelmed by her sister's screaming that she decided to walk over and slap her across the face."

Fleur snorted into her tea as my mouth fell open.

"Vic did that?" I asked with a slight laugh.

"Oh, yeah," Bill nodded. "She came right over with the meanest frown on her face and just-" He mimicked a slap and made a popping noise with his mouth as a sound effect.

"And don't forget when you almost gave Victoire a sip of your scalding hot tea last week," Fleur said.

"I was so sleep deprived," Bill said, shaking his head. He looked at me. "Almost gave her the tea instead of her bottle."

"I'm not completely excused from mistakes, either," Fleur said. "One day, I was folding laundry and trying to put Dominique to sleep and I accidentally put her in the linen closet and the sheets in her bassinet. It was mortifying. I felt like the worst mother ever."

"I heard crying coming from the closet on my way by a few moments later," Bill said. "Which was a place I never thought I'd hear crying from."

I let out another laugh as Fleur reached over and patted my hand. "All parents make mistakes. We're all trying to figure things out. And I think we can learn from the mistakes of others instead of letting them ruin us. If starting a family is what you really want, Sophie, you should have it. If a fear of failing or making a mistake is the only thing stopping you, then you shouldn't worry too much. You're not alone, no matter what."

I nodded. "Thanks, Fleur."

"I think Bill is right," she added. "It sounds like you're just afraid of failing. At all of it. Of producing a healthy child and then having to raise them and make sure they stay that way. Healthy, I mean. And safe. But I think a good piece of advice is really not to take yourself so seriously and not to be so hard on yourself."

I nodded. "I'll try," I whispered with a quiet laugh.

Just then, we heard the sound of crying from one of the upstairs bedrooms.

"That's Vic," Bill said, looking up towards the ceiling.

"She must have just woken up," Fleur sighed. "She'll need to be changed and then she needs to eat." She looked at Bill. "One of us should go get her quickly or she'll wake Dominique."

Bill started to stand, but I interrupted. "Hey, I can go do it-if you don't mind. I can change her and bring her back down. I'd actually really like to, if that's okay with you."

It crossed my mind that it may have sounded odd. The fact that I'd told Bill and Fleur that I'd really like to get their baby up from a nap. But I knew they'd understand and I did really want to try. Usually, the extent of my interactions with the kids was playing with them or watching them if Bill and Fleur were busy, and I'd even fed Victoire a few times. But I'd never changed a diaper or comforted them while they were upset. And suddenly I wanted to. I wanted to try. To prove to myself that it wasn't as daunting as I made it out to be. Doing this suddenly felt so important.

Bill and Fleur shared a look before Fleur turned back to me and nodded. "Sure, eef you would really like to." She smiled. "Everything you need should be set out on her changing table in her bedroom. Diapers, wipes, all of it. And you can pick out an outfit to dress her in, too, if you'd like." She smiled. "Oh! And she also likes when you hum songs to her. She loves Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star."

I smiled. "Got it." I headed for the stairs and took in a shaky breath as I climbed them, following the sound of crying to Victoire's bedroom. I hesitantly pushed open the door and the sound of crying grew louder.

"Hi, Vic," I said quietly, crossing the room to her crib and lifting her out of it. She continued crying, but buried her face in my neck as she did so, brushing her snot covered nose back and forth across my collarbone.

"Thanks for that," I whispered with a quiet chuckle as I began bouncing her slightly to calm her down. I began humming Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star, as Fleur had suggested.

At first, it didn't seem to work. Victoire kept crying into my shoulder. "Mama," she sniffled.

For a moment, I thought of going to get Fleur. Of telling her Victoire didn't want me, that whatever I tried wouldn't work because Victoire only wanted her mother. But I didn't. Not just yet. I wanted to keep trying.

"Mama's downstairs," I whispered. "We'll go down and see her in a minute. Are you hungry?"

Victoire nodded, her cries coming out in sniffly, shuddering gasps now.

"Okay, then let's get you changed and we'll go down and see Mama, yeah?"

Victoire let out a few more quiet cries, but I continued to soothingly sway back and forth with her in my arms as I hummed another song to her. And a moment later, she was quiet.

I carried her to the changing table and put her down, unzipping her soft pink pajamas and using my wand to summon a burgundy, corduroy, overall style dress from the closet, along with a white shirt to go under it.

I effectively managed to change her diaper, albeit a little clumsily. But I did it. Victoire squirmed a bit, but otherwise was very well behaved.

"You're such a good baby, aren't you?" I asked, leaning down and pressing a quick kiss to her cheek. She giggled and reached up to grab my face, nearly poking me in the eye.

I giggled and pulled back before swiftly leaning in and kissing her other cheek. "And you're so cute!" I went on.

She grabbed at my face again, but I leaned back before going in once more, this time for a kiss on the forehead. "So cute!" I exclaimed with a laugh.

This time, Victoire managed to grab a fistful of my hair. I tried to gently pry it from her small fist, but that small fist was strong. And then suddenly, she gave my hair a good yank.

I bit my lip to muffle the cry of pain that came out of my mouth.

"You know that hurts, don't you?" I asked her as I buttoned the straps of her dress. "I know you're probably just jealous of how much hair I have, but you also don't have to be. Yours will grow just as long one day." I grinned as I gently pulled her to a sitting position and ruffled her platinum blonde hair, which now reached down to her chin, but still baby-fine in texture. "And it'll be such beautiful hair. Just like your mother." Still smiling, I held out my hands, palms up, towards her. "Ready to go see Mama?"

Victoire giggled and reached out for me. I laughed and picked her up, holding her up above my head as I peppered her cheeks with kisses and she laughed.

"Whee!" She exclaimed, grabbing two fistfuls of my hair this time.

"Hey, what did I tell you about that?" I laughed, lowering her down and holding her against my hip as, this time, I successfully managed to extricate my hair from her fingers. I looked over at her and smiled as I tapped a finger against her nose. "Your hair will grow. In the meantime, I'd like to keep mine."

Victoire responded by sneezing directly at my neck, covering my skin with even more spit and snot than before. I froze and let out a quiet groan.

Someone snorted with laughter from the doorway. "Cute," a familiar voice said. "You know, I really love a girl covered in baby bogies."

I whirled around to see Fred in the doorway, casually leaning against the doorframe, his arms crossed and a playful smirk on his face. I simply stared at him for a moment. Victoire even began lightly tugging on my hair again and I didn't even try to stop her-although, at least she wasn't yanking it out this time.

How had Fred known I was here? Had Bill and Fleur told him? To say I was surprised to see him was an understatement to say the least.

"What are you doing here?" I asked.

Fred smiled as he pushed off the wall and ambled towards me and Victoire.

"I came to see Bill for some brotherly advice," he said, smiling down at Victoire and running one of his hands over the top of her head and then trailing a finger down her cheek before giving it a gentle pinch. He glanced up at me. "And then he told me you had coincidentally stopped by as well."

"So you didn't know I was here?" I asked, looking at him curiously.

"Nope, it was pure coincidence," Fred said. "Guess we both had the same idea to come to Bill and Fleur for a talk." He was now making funny faces at Victoire. She laughed and held her arms out to him, stretching her body towards him as well. He gently took her from my arms and began tossing her into the air above his head.

"Careful, Fred," I said quietly. But I couldn't help the small smile that was spreading over my face as I watched him. He was so good with her. He clearly adored her and she loved him in return. It was heartwarming.

"She's fine," Fred laughed, still holding Victoire above his head as he lowered her belly to his mouth and blew a raspberry. She squealed with laughter and grabbed at his face, pinching his nose with the tiny fingers of one hand, and pulling at his hair with the other. Fred laughed again and tossed Victoire into the air a few more times before blowing another raspberry on her stomach. When he caught sight of my face, he lowered Victoire and held her to his hip as he looked at me. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

I shook my head and blinked a few times. "No real reason. "You're just really good with her."

"You weren't so bad yourself," Fred said as Victoire grabbed hold of one of his sweatshirt strings and promptly stuck the end in her mouth. He gently pulled it away from her before crossing over to the changing table and grabbing a few baby wipes. He passed them to me with a slight smile. "Although, you might want to wipe off your neck. It's a little slobbery."

"I thought you loved a girl covered in baby bogies," I answered, using the wipes to clean up the mess on my neck.

Fred just smiled, but said nothing as he simply watched me.

"How long were you standing in the doorway?" I asked him as I threw the wipes into the trash bin.

"Long enough," Fred answered, one corner of his mouth twitching up into a playful half-smile.

I stood there and stared at him for a moment longer, studying him with my arms crossed, unsure of what else to say. While I liked that we were almost acting normal, I also knew this was the easy way out. There was still an elephant in the room and we were ignoring it. And it was making me a bit uncomfortable. I didn't want to ignore it anymore. Not after the fight we'd had last night.

"So Fleur mentioned Vic needed to eat," Fred said, turning to press a quick kiss to Victoire's head as he bounced her against his hip slightly. "So I guess we should bring her downstairs and hand her over." He looked back at me, his smile now faded from his face. "And then after that...I think we need to talk."

I swallowed and took in a deep breath before nodding. "Yeah, I think we do too."

Fred nodded as well before lightly kissing Victoire's head again and heading for the door.

I followed him down the stairs and stood in the kitchen doorway as he brought the baby over to Fleur. He handed Victoire over, but not before tickling her and making her laugh hysterically a bit more.

"I didn't know he was going to show up," Bill said in a low voice, appearing at my side in the doorway. "Fleur and I didn't tell him you were here, I swear."

"I know," I said, nodding. "He told me it was a coincidence."

"He came over for advice about you," Bill said. "I was right when I said he was feeling like shit over the fight. And he was worried about you. At the time, he didn't know where you'd gone. He said you didn't come home last night."

"Did you tell him-?"

"No," Bill said, shaking his head. "I didn't tell him where you'd been."

"What did you tell him?"

"That I knew he was frustrated, but his problem had always been with saying hurtful things out of anger-almost as if he wants to push people over the edge for fun or in pure retaliation for making him angry. As if just because he's hurt, he has to make sure the other person is too. But then regrets it when he realizes he did hurt someone and he hates the way that feels. That's always been his issue and I told him you had a right to be angry. I reminded him he needed to be patient and actually take the time to listen to people when they're upset instead of just simply retaliating and intentionally making them even more upset. I did tell him that you had some things to tell him as well. He asked how I could possibly know that. And then I did finally tell him that you'd shown up here and were up with Vic."

I nodded, but didn't get a chance to say anything else. Fred had finished handing the baby over to Fleur and he'd come back over to me, his hands in his pockets. He cleared his throat. "So, Fleur was just telling me how lovely it is out on the beach this time of year." He pointedly tilted his head towards the front door.

I looked at Fleur, who was holding back a laugh and I had to smile slightly as well. I looked back at Fred. "Is that right?" I asked.

Fred nodded. "Since we're both coincidentally here and now that we're off baby duty..." He trailed off and inhaled deeply before letting it out. "I think we really do need to talk. And I figure it'll be harder for you to continue to be furious with me while we're on a beautiful beach."

Bill let out a loud snort of laughter. "That's brilliant. And a nice attempt. But it's quite untrue. Fleur and I live here and she still gets angry with me plenty."

Fred leaned over and playfully tried to swat at Bill, who blocked his hand with a laugh.

"Can you just back me up for one second?" Fred laughed, managing to swat at Bill's head.

"I'm just being honest," Bill said, holding up his hands and walking into the kitchen to join Fleur. "Now go on, get out of here. Both of you. And don't come back in until you've made up."

Fred rolled his eyes and turned to me. He tilted his head towards the door again. "Come on," he whispered. He turned and led the way towards the door. I hesitated for a brief second before following him.

"I mean it," Bill called after us. "I'm going to lock the door behind you!"

We walked down towards the water in silence, stopping at the line where the looser, dry sand met the wet sand. The waves crashed in one by one, slowly rolling all the way up to the toes of our shoes before pulling away again.

Fred sighed and lowered himself down to the sand, running his hands through the soft granules, scooping a handful up and letting it fall through his fingers. He looked up at me, squinting in the sunlight. "Well? Aren't you going to sit down?"

I stared at him for a moment before lowering myself down beside him and sitting there stiffly as Fred casually leaned back on his elbows, stretched out his legs and stared out at the water. Silently. He didn't say anything for a long while. I kept glancing at him out of the corner of my eye as I sat there with my hands in my lap and my back ramrod straight. Finally, I couldn't take it anymore. I let out a huff of air. "Are you going to say anything?"

Fred slowly turned his gaze towards me, eyebrows raised and a look of half amusement and half disbelief on his face, as if he were thinking Is she serious right now?

"You asked me out here to talk. And you're not talking," I went on.

Fred's eyebrows shot up even more. "Damn," he said as a frown turned down the corners of his mouth. "You know, Sophie, I don't exactly hear any words coming out of your mouth either. If you ask me, I'm not the only one who should have something to say. But then again, for a while, you rarely had anything to say. Maybe you're reverting."

"Fred..." I sighed, closing my eyes and looking away, trying to hide how hurt I felt that he was even suggesting a regression to the person I'd been before. I hated the mere thought of it.

It was quiet between us for a moment. Fred scooped up another handful of sand and let it fall through his fingers again as he watched it intently. Finally, he let out a long breath of air and sat up straight. He turned to look me in the eyes. "I'm sorry," he said. "I'm sorry for what I just said, firstly. I didn't come here to hurt you again. I wanted to make things right. I'm sorry for comparing you to your parents, too. I didn't say it because I believe it to be true, but because I was angry and in that moment, I wanted to get to you. I was hurt and furious and I wanted to lash out at you because I was hurt and furious. I regretted it immediately, Soph. I'm really sorry."

I averted my gaze to look down at my hands for a moment, trying to keep my demeanor as serious and rigid as possible. But eventually, I caved. I sighed as my shoulders relaxed. "I know. I saw it in your face." I looked back up at him again and met his eyes. "The thing is, though, I'm afraid you may have been right. I shouldn't have walked out on you."

Fred shook his head. "It may have been better that way, in the end. We were getting nowhere and only making each other angrier." He paused. "It would have been nice to know where you went, though. And that you were safe."

A blush heated up my cheeks. It was exactly as Rachel had said last night. At the time, I hadn't given a shit, but now all I felt was guilt.

"I'm sorry," I said. "You're right. I was angry-furious, actually-at what you said. You can't do things like that, Fred. You can't just say things to intentionally hurt people just because you're angry. I was already hurt and angry and confused too!"

Fred nodded. "I know. I didn't want to hurt you. That's never what I wanted. I just wanted to make you mad, which isn't much better. But instead I actually hurt you and I'm sorry."

I sighed again and looked at him. "Thank you for apologizing. But I owe you an apology as well. You weren't the only one who did something hurtful. I'm sorry I didn't talk to you about how I was feeling. I'm sorry I avoided the subject. I'm sorry I let it get to the point of boiling over. I've preached the importance of communication to you so many times, but this time I failed to do it myself. It wasn't fair."

Fred nodded. "Apology accepted. Why didn't you come to me about it? Truthfully, it did hurt that you didn't."

I let out a slow breath of air and ran my fingers through the sand before explaining to Fred exactly what I'd told Bill and Fleur. I told him absolutely everything. And he sat there and listened, drinking in my every word about how I worried he'd be too blinded by his own desire to have children to hear and understand my side. That he wouldn't understand or relate to the parts that he didn't have to experience himself. I told him every reason for being afraid to tell him. I told him how his comment at St. Mungo's had upset me. I told him about my fear of doing something wrong. Of being a bad mother. Of failing. On any level.

"It's not just about me worrying I'll somehow decide to leave," I said. "It's about me not wanting to mess up at all. Even during the pregnancy. What if something goes wrong? What if I can't handle it? What if during labor I start having flashbacks of Eric hurting me?"

"Soph, not ever messing up...that's impossible," Fred said. "Everyone messes up. We're not perfect, but most of us do a pretty good job of figuring things out. You think my mother did everything perfectly with seven children running around? We've all had scraped knees, bruises and broken bones. Not because she's a terrible mother and didn't take care of us. But because things happen. And when it comes down to it, how could you not be a good mother? I just saw you upstairs with Vic. You were great. She loves you."

My throat constricted with emotion as I half-smiled. "Yeah?"

"Yes," Fred said earnestly. "And you're not going to be alone. We've talked about this before. There are so many of us here to help you. And I'm going to be here every step of the way. I'm sorry if I made you feel isolated or if I drew attention to the fact that I'll never understand what it'll be like. I'm sorry if I made you feel like you'd be alone in that. You won't be. In the event that we do have children, I promise I'll do everything in my power to make you as comfortable as possible."

I nodded. "Thanks, Fred." I looked up at him sheepishly. "And again, I'm sorry I didn't come to you about this. I'm sorry for avoiding you. But like I said, I was afraid of disappointing you. I was afraid of hurting you by telling you I was suddenly feeling scared about having kids. I know how much it means to you."

Fred didn't say anything right away. He began running his hands through the sand again. "I do want a family," he said. "A fairly big one, too. I've always had it in my head I'd have at the minimum two kids, but I'd prefer at least three." He looked over at me. "But you have just as much of a say," he said. "If not more. You're the superhero that has to bring them into this world." He shrugged. "So, yeah, I guess it's a little disappointing. But I'd never force you to have kids if you aren't ready, which right now...right now you're not ready."

I shook my head. "Another dumb mental road block," I sighed. "I've got a few, in case you haven't noticed."

Fred smiled. "I have, and that's okay. I've helped you knock them down before and I'll do it again. I'm not going anywhere, Soph. I told you I'd keep reminding you of this whenever you began to doubt the permanence of your own happiness. You're not ready for kids now-or maybe even in the near future. So what?" He paused. "But...you think it could be an option? Potentially?"

I laughed at the hopeful tone in his voice. "Potentially," I said. "Like I said, it's not having a family with you that frightens me. I can envision doing that, but the thing is that in all my fantasies, I'm not such a freak."

"You're not a freak," Fred insisted. It was quiet for a moment before he spoke again. "Also, I wouldn't leave you for it either. I'm not only with you for babies, contrary to what you thought I was saying last night."

I half smiled. "No, I know you're not." I paused. "There is always adoption, you know. We have options. We can talk about them..."

Fred nodded and shrugged one shoulder as he gazed back out at the water again. "Yeah. We could." After a moment, he turned and looked at me again, a terribly serious expression on his face. "I just want to make sure you know that whatever you're feeling about your parenting capabilities, it's all untrue. You have your damage, I get that. I have damage, too. But you are not unfit to be a mother. I know you, Sophie. You'd be brilliant."

"We've talked about how our pasts will always be a part of us," I said, "and I'm afraid the bits that are still part of me will prevent me from being good at this. At raising a child. And I cannot let Eric taint that, too."

"You're letting him taint it by not allowing yourself to move forward. You can't let him hold you back from things you want. Things you can see in your future if it wasn't for him and what he did to you. If you let him continue to have this grip on you, you'll never fully let him go in the way that you need to. He'll continue to ruin your life and your happiness. You won't be able to have the life you want and deserve if you let his memory control your decisions. You have to let him go for good instead of letting him come back to haunt you every time you have to make an important life decision."

I thought about that for a moment. "You're right," I finally whispered. "It's just proving to be easier said than done."

"I know you would love any baby we have unconditionally," Fred said. "I know it and you know it."

I nodded. "I know you said this earlier, and I agree: I don't think I'm ready to have a baby so soon."

"Right, but who said we have to have a baby now anyway?" Fred asked with a laugh.

"I didn't say now. What I meant was, I'm not sure I'll want to jump right in immediately after the wedding either."

"And I said that's fine with me," Fred said with a slight chuckle. "We're going to work on it. You said it's a possibility one day. You even just said yourself that we have other options, too. And I'd actually prefer to wait a little while before we jump into this as well."

I looked at him in surprise. "Yeah?"

"Are you surprised?" Fred laughed, looking over at me.

"Yeah-I just thought-I thought you wanted to get started right away."

Fred shook his head. "We have time," he whispered, looking at me in amusement. "And I don't know about you, but I'm looking forward to spending a considerable amount of time after the wedding enjoying my new wife." He let his eyes travel over me, up and down, as he leaned back on his elbows again,

I laughed. "Okay, okay, fair enough." I looked up and met Fred's eyes again. "So, we're okay?"

Fred nodded. "We are." He rolled over so that he was supporting himself on one elbow and facing me. He reached over with his free hand and used his fingertips to brush a wind blown strand of hair off of my forehead and behind my ear. He trailed his fingertips down the outer edge of my ear, making me shiver slightly, before his hand came to rest lightly on the side of my neck, his thumb on my cheek and the rest of his fingers curling around to the back of my neck. His eyes wandered down over my face from my eyes to my lips and back up again.

"If I didn't know better, I'd say you wanted to kiss me," I whispered.

Fred let out a breath of laughter and grinned as he lightly tugged me down towards him as he stretched upwards to meet me halfway. He pressed his lips to mine before pulling away slightly and going in for a second kiss.

I scooted closer to him to get more comfortable and after a moment, I even flung one leg over him so that I was straddling him as he leaned back on his elbows again.

"You do realize that Bill and Fleur can see us from the house, don't you?" Fred asked with a slight laugh between kisses. "And they're probably watching us right now."

"That's a way to kill the mood," I said, leaning down and pressing one, final hard kiss to his lips before rolling off of him and lying on my back in the sand, staring wistfully up at the clouds.

"That wasn't my intention," Fred groaned.

"What was your intention by bringing that up, then?" I asked.

"I don't know, maybe I was hoping you had a weird kink," Fred laughed.

"I absolutely do not," I said with a half-laugh of my own.

"Don't knock it 'til you've tried it," Fred commented lightly.

"Have you tried it?" I asked, looking at him curiously.

Fred looked at me with a wide smirk on his face as he wiggled his eyebrows. Then, he burst into laughter and shook his head. "Nah, not really my thing either. Especially if my brother is involved." He suddenly rolled onto his side again, facing me with his head propped up on a fist. "Mum's making lasagna for dinner tonight," he whispered, reaching across me and putting his free hand on my hip, aimlessly tracing his thumb back and forth.

"That's right, it's Sunday," I said, closing my eyes. "I forgot that meant going to the Burrow for dinner. I've got to go home and change my clothes. And I'd like to stop back at Rachel's to leave her a note that everything's okay."

"You went to Rachel's last night?" Fred asked, wrinkling his nose in confusion.

"Yeah, why?" I asked.

"It's just...I actually, um, stopped by her place last night looking for you. Like I mentioned, I just wanted to know where you were, even if you wouldn't talk to me. I was worried. I even stopped by the Leaky Cauldron and picked up a blueberry pie, pretending I was picking it up for the two of us. I figured if you were there, they'd have known what happened and either Martha would say something or Tom would jump over the bar and try to kill me. But they acted none the wiser so I knew you weren't there."

"Why didn't you just ask them?"

"And tip them off that I didn't know where you were?" Fred asked, widening his eyes. "Are you mental? I wasn't going to be the one to tell them that bit of news. If Tom already knew and tried to kill me, at least that would confirm you were safe and I'd know where you were. But if you weren't there and he didn't know, I wasn't going to be the one to tell him."

"So you mean to tell me that we have an entire blueberry pie sitting at home all because of your plan to find me but not get murdered in the process?"

Fred nodded. "Yeah," he laughed.

"Maybe I should disappear for a bit more often if we get pie out of it," I whispered.

"Please don't," Fred groaned, leaning down to kiss me.

"So..." I prompted. "After you went to the Leaky Cauldron, you went to Rachel's?"

Fred nodded. "But she wasn't there."

I looked at him sheepishly. "That would be because she, Kayla, Allie and I went to the Three Broomsticks last night."

Fred looked at me curiously. "So, let me get this straight. You were angry, you went to Rachel's, and then the two of you rounded up Kayla and Allie and went out to a pub? While you were angry?"

I nodded.

A teasing smirk lit up Fred's face. "You got wasted last night, didn't you?" He laughed.

I flushed red. "I did. That's how damn furious you made me. You literally drove me to drink."

Fred laughed. "How bad was the hangover this morning?"

I groaned. "Pretty bad. But the girls took care of me. Rachel actually kept trying to cut me off from alcohol and give me water."

"She did? I'm a little surprised," Fred said.

"Kayla was the one encouraging me," I went on with a smile.

"Now that isn't surprising in the least," Fred laughed.

"Rachel gave me a hangover potion this morning, too, and let me stay in her flat for the day. And when I came here, Fleur gave me-"

"That delicious French broth?" Fred asked. When I nodded, he smiled and rolled away from me so that he was lying on his own back beside me. "Yeah, that stuff works wonders." He turned his head back towards me. "How are you feeling now?"

"Better," I told him.

He nodded and sat up, stretching his arms above his head before standing and dusting sand off of his clothes. He reached out for me and helped me to my feet as well.

"I'll take you back to Rachel's so you can leave her a note," he said, helping to dust sand off my own clothes. "And then we can head home and get cleaned up to go to the Burrow." He shifted some hair off of my shoulder as he examined my collarbone a little closer. "Looks like you missed a spot-you've still got some bogies on you."

I let out a half-groan, half-laugh as I buried my head in my hands. I looked back up at Fred and smiled as I reached up and lovingly ran a hand through his hair. "I love you," I whispered.

"I love you more," Fred answered, leaning in until his lips were an inch from mine.

"Not possible," I breathed out before closing the gap and kissing him. His hands found my hips and he pulled me closer to him as he bent me backwards slightly. We only jumped apart when a sudden, extra forceful wave slammed against our legs, drenching our ankles and calves in cold water.

I let out a squeal as I jumped away from the water, further up the sand. "Shit, that's cold!" I breathed.

Fred laughed as he began following me back up towards the house. "You mean you don't want to go for a swim right now?"

"We don't have time, Fred. "We've got to get going if we want to go to Rachel's, go home, and get ready to make it to the Burrow on time. And don't forget, we need to factor in the time it usually takes you to find your damn shoes."

"It doesn't take that long!" Fred protested.

"Your record is eleven minutes and forty-three seconds," I said. "And you'd better not be planning on beating that record anytime soon."

"That's actually impressive," Fred chuckled. "Nearly twelve whole minutes spent looking for shoes."

"It's terrible, Fred," I told him.

We made our way back to the house and let ourselves in the front door. Bill poked his head out of the living room. Beyond him, I could see Fleur sitting on the floor, playing with Victoire.

"Have you worked all your shit out?" Bill asked.

"You tell me," Fred shrugged. "Don't act like you weren't watching us from the window. What did it look like to you?"

Bill tried and failed to hide his smirk. Victoire had suddenly ran over to him and hugged his legs, so he picked her up and gave her temple a quick kiss. "What do you think, Vic?" He asked. "Would you say all that kissing Uncle Fred and Aunt Sophie were doing outside means they like each other again?" He smiled as he lovingly ran a hand over Victoire's head, smoothing out her hair. "Hm? What do you say? Yes?"

"Yay!" Victoire squealed, clapping her hands.

"That's her way of saying yes," Bill laughed.

"Well, she's right," Fred said, tickling Victoire under her arm as she squealed with laughter. He glanced at me. "Although, I have always liked Sophie. A little anger wouldn't change that."

I shook my head as I smiled. "I appreciate that, but let's face it, Fred, neither of us liked each other last night."

"Speak for yourself," Fred snorted.

I raised an eyebrow and crossed my arms, jutting out my hip as I shot him a look. "I think you're confusing love and like. For example, I still loved you last night, but did I like you? Absolutely not."

"Tell me, did it feel like you loved him when you were getting wasted at the pub?" Bill asked. "I'm willing to bet there was actually a lot of Fred shit-talking going on."

"You are not much of a help with anything, are you?" I exclaimed, turning to gape at Bill as Fred laughed.

"He's not," Fleur agreed, standing up from the floor with a sigh and coming over to us. She looked at me with a tiny smile. "You should get a move on, though. I'm guessing you want to get cleaned up before we have to be at the Burrow."

I nodded and turned to Fred. "Ready to go?"

"Ready when you are." He leaned over and lightly pinched Victoire's cheek. "I will see you soon, pretty girl."

Fred and I said our goodbyes and headed first to Rachel's, where I scribbled her a note of gratitude for her help, and also letting her know I was okay, I had made up with Fred, and we were going to the Burrow. Then, we went back to our own flat where Fred ever so graciously let me take over the bathroom first. I took a wonderfully warm shower, changed my clothes, fixed my hair and even put on a little makeup to cover up the fact that I was still a little pale.

I made myself a mug of tea while I waited for Fred, and drank it while sitting at the window seat in the living room, overlooking Diagon Alley, which was fairly quiet-as it usually was on a Sunday afternoon. If I craned my neck just a bit, I could barely make out a corner of the Leaky Cauldron. I smiled to myself as I looked at it. I wondered how the girls were doing working through their own hangovers-particularly Kayla.

By the time Fred came down the hallway into the living room, I was deep in thought about my visit to Shell Cottage and I barely heard him come into the room.

"Sophie? You okay?"

I finally jolted out of my thoughts and turned my head to see Fred staring at me, a look of slight concern on his face.

"Yeah, I'm okay," I said quietly.

"You were a million miles away," Fred commented, sitting down at the other end of the window seat, right beside my feet. He lifted them up and stretched my lower legs across his lap as he put a hand on my leg and rubbed his thumb back and forth over the fabric of my jeans.

I watched the slow, methodical movement of his thumb for a few moments before looking up and meeting his eyes. "I was just thinking about this morning at Bill and Fleur's. When Bill answered the door, Dominique was screaming and Bill looked a mess. Dominique hadn't slept last night and Bill and Fleur were clearly extremely stressed out."

"Neither one of their children like to sleep," Fred said. "Vic is better now, but you remember how fussy she used to be. And now it looks like Dom's the same way." He shrugged. "It's baffling that they don't appreciate sleep. They'll be begging for more of it once they're grown up."

I laughed. "True." I inhaled slowly and let it out. "Anyway, I was just thinking how I didn't judge Bill and Fleur for what was going on. Not one bit. I didn't think it was because they were bad parents. It didn't even cross my mind. And they aren't bad parents. They're very good parents. They're just two people trying their best to take care of a baby who had a bad night. So it probably isn't fair to judge myself so harshly either on my parenting skills-before I've even had the chance to give it a proper try."

"You're just figuring that out now?" Fred asked with a laugh.

I smiled and looked down into my mug of tea. "I've got to stop holding myself back," I whispered, the smile fading from my face. "I've got to stop thinking that what happened to me has fucked me up beyond repair and beyond normalcy. You were right-doing that lets Eric win. I have moments of clarity-moments when I make these huge strides and push past all my doubts and fears. Like in New York, for instance. And it felt so good and I was so happy and I've never regretted it for a moment. But then the next hurdle comes along and it feels like a completely different scenario." I took in a breath and looked up at him. "But I'll never know unless I try. And in the moments I'm spending with Vic or Dominique, or both...I really enjoy them. And in those moments, I wonder what the hell it is I've been worrying about. In those moments, I realize just how much I do want a family."

"You need to have as much faith in yourself as everyone else does," Fred answered. He smirked. "Also...do you honestly think I'd want to start a family with you if I thought you'd be a shit mother? I'm not that much of an idiot."

I laughed. "Good to know."

Fred reached for my hand, picking it up and pressing a kiss to my knuckles, keeping his eyes on mine as he did so. "We'll figure it out, okay? Like I said, I'm not in some kind of massive rush."

I nodded. "And I promise that I'll keep you in the loop if I decide to have another meltdown."

Fred laughed. "Please do." He leaned forward and gently kissed my forehead. "Are you ready to go?"

I nodded and let him pull me to my feet. "Let's go so I can be the first to get to that lasagna your mother's making."

"You can't be first because I'm going to be first," Fred argued.

"You most certainly won't be," I said. "I'll fight you for it."

Fred snorted and lightly shoved my shoulder. "Please. Haven't we done enough fighting for a while?"

"We have, which is why you should ever so graciously allow me to get that lasagna first."

Fred let out a loud laugh. "Yeah, right. In your dreams."

And with that, he held out his hand to me. I took it and we headed off to the Burrow.