Girls, Girls, Girls
Fred snores. Oh, how he snores. Like the Pacific on the rocks during a vicious storm. Like a chainsaw. No, a pavement saw. I wondered, as I stared at the ceiling waiting for sleep to come, whether some forward-thinking Order member had charmed the ceiling plaster not to crack under the relentless assault of sound waves.
The preceding nights I'd dosed him with a potion to help him sleep, and had inadvertently saved myself the annoyance of listening to his racket. But tonight? No. Tonight he'd declined the potion, and was sleeping like a baby. A loud, loud baby. I stretched my jaw all the way open and worked it from side to side, trying to force my tension headache to relax. I squeezed my eyes shut tight, then let them flip back open. Awake, awake, awake. The snoring continued.
I flipped to face the wall, indulging in an irritated sigh on the way. Something crunched atop the blanket. I felt for the source of the sound. Ah. PlayWizard. Perhaps there's something fitting about informing myself about PlayWizard poses in the middle of the night in a strange house. Or there would be if I were a teenaged boy, and wanted to claim I was just reading it for the articles. Heh.
I felt around for the rest of the stack. Once I had them assembled, I swept my bare feet to the floor and slid quietly from the creaking four-poster, stashing my wand under the drawstring of my pajama pants. I took a moment to yank down the hem of my camisole before creeping into the hallway and sliding the bedroom door shut.
Once I was out I lit my wand to make it to the stairs. The absurdity of my situation nearly made me laugh aloud. Yes, Arthur. Here you are, a grown woman, in your pajamas, stealing downstairs in the middle of the night to look at naughty pictures. I tensed my stomach and held my breath to keep from chuckling. Skip the creaking step, watch the corner, don't wake the portraits, and—the light was on in the kitchen. I froze with my hand out to push the door open. Maybe no one was in there? Maybe they'd just left the light on?
Well, Arthur. No guts, no glory. I gave the door a push. And saw Remus sitting at the table with a cup of cocoa. I thought of running.
"Anna?" His quiet voice stopped me. I straightened up and walked through the door as though I wasn't holding a pile of girly magazines.
"Hi Remus." I said. "What brings you here?" Now, I really don't think Remus processed the second sentence. His eyes were glued to the photograph on the cover of the PlayWizard facing him—I was clutching the stack to my stomach as I walked—and a look of mingled alarm and amusement was contorting his normally serious face.
"Anna." He said calmly.
"Yes?" I ventured.
"You have a PlayWizard magazine." His eyes met mine, and I started laughing. Hard. I vaguely saw Remus' head tilt in continued surprise as he gawked at me. My eyes were watering, and I collapsed into a chair across from him throwing the magazines on the table. "Anna?" He called.
"It's…" I cleared my throat trying to stop cracking up. "It's okay, Remus." He nodded, uncertainly. "I'm—the twins—George—oh the hell with it." I tried, then dissolved into panicky giggles again. Remus rose and came around to my side of the table, putting a hand on each of my shoulders. He gave me a slight shake.
"Anna." He said firmly. "Anna."
"I'm—I'm not actually hysterical," I insisted. I coughed a couple times and wiped the tears from my eyes. "I'm really not." I coughed again and turned to face him. "Really, Remus. I'm okay."
"Anna." He looked dubious.
"Really," I said, forcing my face to a slightly more serious expression. "Let me explain." He nodded and returned to his chair, still looking wary. "Okay. I told the twins about the business with PlayWizard."
"Right."
"And we were playing Truth or Dare to pass the time, earlier."
"Tell me you didn't, Anna." Remus' earlier horror was fading into amusement.
"No! I mean—yes I played Truth or Dare with the twins, but I didn't allow them to dare me to do anything. I'm not a complete idiot." He inclined his head at me. I continued. "So I dared George to retrieve all the copies of PlayWizard he could find in the house."
"That's how you got them, not why you're here with them at—" he paused, looking at the kitchen clock, "three in the morning."
"Well." I paused, wondering if I really wanted to tell Remus I was considering posing. So long as I said nothing about Wade I figured it wouldn't hurt. "I was thinking about doing it."
"You can't be serious." Remus leveled a professorial gaze at me.
"What's it going to matter, Remus? You know I don't have anyone to marry. I'll be living as a muggle in America in a few months anyway." Without the information about Wade my sudden willingness to consider the idea made no sense at all. Remus' face showed he wasn't buying it. "Besides. I don't know I'm going to do it. I don't even really know what they want me to do. I've never looked through one of these before." I gestured to the magazines.
"So that's what you were going to do under the cover of darkness." Remus smirked.
"Actually that's why I was laughing." I grinned. "I was going to look at them some time tomorrow, but Fred snores like you wouldn't believe. I couldn't sleep, so I came down here. As soon as I saw you I realized how it must look." I chuckled. "I mean, it's like a teenaged boy's nightmare—getting caught by a professor in the middle of the night with a stack of naughty magazines." Remus joined me in a laugh.
"I will have to take house points, but I may be lenient since you're showing such an interest in research, Miss Arthur." He teased. I nearly snorted. His face went slightly more serious. "I ought to warn you that Sirius will find those missing soon enough."
"Augh—don't tell me. Not one more word. No." I shook my head vigorously. Remus laughed. "I'll just dare George to put them back, and I'll never have to think about it again. In fact, I'm not going to think about it right now." I turned with exaggerated primness to my magazines. "Now if you don't mind, I've got work to do."
"I mind." I jumped at the voice behind me. It wasn't one I recognized. I whirled and Remus stifled a laugh behind his mug. "And they aren't mine, Mooney." It was Sirius.
"Well damn, this couldn't be any more embarrassing." I heard that come out of my mouth as I thought it. I wish that didn't happen when I was tired. Sirius threw his head back and laughed heartily before joining us at the table.
"Sirius, this Anna," Remus said, "and Anna, this is the owner of the stack of PlayWizard magazines you've brought."
"They're not mine, Mooney," Sirius insisted. "They're probably George's."
"Perhaps Ron's." Remus said mildly.
"Hermione would've killed him for it." Sirius shook his head. As they argued I flipped open the top issue on the stack, the one with beach scene on the cover. I paused at a set of photos of a woman in lingerie. She wasn't any less clothed than a lot of the women at Miami Beach.
"See anything you like?" Sirius teased, leaning to look over my shoulder. I rolled my eyes at him.
"It's not as raunchy as I thought." I mused.
"So you're considering it." Remus noted.
"I don't know yet." I muttered. But yes, I was considering it—if the twins' film worked. I flipped another page to a layout of a witch stepping out of a pool. I squinted at it. It couldn't be. I frowned.
"Something wrong, there?" Sirius pressed, leaning over my shoulder. I tapped a finger on the witch's bosom.
"She's had a boob job." I declared.
"She's had what?" Sirius blinked at me. I turned the magazine so Remus could see the photograph. He grimaced a bit.
"She's had muggle plastic surgery on her breasts." Sirius looked stunned. I put the photo in front of him and pointed out an unnaturally globular breast. "They put a capsule full of saline or silicone in the breast tissue to make it look larger, and to keep it from sagging." Sirius grimaced; Remus winced. "It's sort of interesting how they do it without losing nerve function in the skin. Anyway—you can tell she's had muggle surgery because you can see the outline of the capsules. Also, if you look under the breast you can see just a little bit of a scar." I put my fingernail where the scar was faintly visible. "See there?"
"Not really—wait." Sirius put his nose nearly to the paper. "Yeah. See, Mooney?" He turned the magazine to Remus, who barely glanced at it before nodding. He pulled the magazine back to himself. "It's not that big of a scar. How do they get the—ah—capsule in there?"
"Incisions," I explained, pulling the magazine between us to show him on the model. "They start here and go up, then there's another here." Sirius nodded eagerly. "The surgeon opens a gap in the tissues, here." I tapped the picture.
"How?" Sirius asked. I wondered how much detail I could give without making him vomit. I've found most wizards don't do well with descriptions of muggle surgery.
"They use tools to go in and lift open a space." Sirius cringed. "She'd be drugged to sleep during all of it," I added quickly. "Once they get the capsule in there, they inflate it. They make sure it's in the right place, then they stitch up the incisions."
"They stitch them!" Sirius exclaimed.
"Just until the skin heals." I nodded to him in what I hoped was a reassuring manner. He looked a little peaked, regardless. Then he started to smirk.
"Do they ever get them in the wrong place?" Sirius wondered. I snickered, and I could see Remus fighting a smile.
"Sometimes." Remus said.
"Probably more than you'd think." I said. "And they settle after the surgery."
"They settle?" Sirius exclaimed.
"Well, more like they descend." I explained. "My stepmother's settled unevenly at first." I snickered. "She looked ridiculous."
"And what were you doing noticing your stepmother's breasts?" Sirius raised an eyebrow. Remus avidly watched the exchange.
"Believe me, they were hard to miss." I defended myself. "First of all, I knew her before her chest inflated. And secondly, since the operation she's looked like she's carrying watermelons." I laughed, remembering her uneven melon-breasts.
"And it helped that you already despised her." Remus added.
"Jack did too." I noted. "My brother," I explained to Sirius.
"As enlightening as this has been," Remus paused to yawn, "I'm going to turn in. Good night."
"I am too," Sirius said. "'Night."
"Good night, you two." I said, turning back to the stack of magazines.
"Remus told me what you were doing." Tonks burst into Fred and my room without preamble. Fred perked up immediately when it looked like I was about to be scolded. "You and I need to talk."
"Privately?" I asked. She looked serious.
"Now." She gestured toward the door. I followed her to the kitchen.
"George told me about the film they're developing. He said they'd got you to promise you'd wait until it was finished." She looked at me, obviously expecting a response. I nodded mutely, cowed by the serious, professional Auror Tonks. "You have to, Anna. If you give it a month we'll have time to plan. I can go in with you—maybe as a photographer to use the film." I nodded again. "Anything else would be stupid."
"You mean anything sooner than a month?" I asked.
"No. Anything without my help and Harry's help. Anything without a plan and backup." She stared me in the eye.
"So you're going to wait a month?" I asked.
"We're getting information." She paused and appeared to consider her next comments. "We'll get more if we can find a way for you to do this without getting killed."
"I know," I butted in, "and that's why I should do it."
"Listen to me, Anna." Tonks' voice went hard. "You'll make yourself useless to Harry and me if you so much as communicate with anyone from PlayWizard without planning it with us first. So don't. Do you understand?" I nodded.
"Does this mean you've talked Harry into considering it?" I ventured.
"It means I will." Tonks grinned for the first time since we started talking. I nearly sighed with relief.
"So Remus told you about my explanation of muggle boob jobs?" I smirked.
"Your what?" Tonks sputtered.
"I explained boob jobs to Sirius as we looked at PlayWizard. Ask Remus." I put on an exaggeratedly innocent face. Tonks laughed.
"That's why Sirius was asking about stitches." She shook her head. She stood and narrowly avoided hooking her foot on a chair leg as she rounded the kitchen table. "I'll ask Remus about it," she called as she headed for the front door.
