Wedding Afternoon: Marmalade

He elbows his way through the crowd to where the cute blonde is eating a slice of lemon cake.

"May I have this dance?" he asks her.

Tonks swallows her cake and glances at the left-hand side of his face, but he claps his hand over it so she can't see his ear, or lack thereof.

"Uh-uh. Guess," he demands.

Tonks looks him up and down. "Fred,"

"Better luck next time," he replies, removing his hand to display the hole where his ear used to be, "Now you have to dance with me,"

"Well, since you ask so nicely how can I resist? Although here's your warning that I'll probably tread on your toes,"

"Looking forward to it," George grins. He holds his hand out to lead her onto the dancefloor. Ginny is jiving with Charlie, Mum is dancing with Rowan Keveny and the Lovegoods are flitting around waving their arms is a bizarre jazz-hands movement. George waves to them and pulls Tonks into hold. The music is upbeat and jumpy, George's favourite type. None of that boring waltz-y malarkey.

"I thought you and Fred were off chasing Veela?" Tonks asks, raising her eyebrows as they begin to dance.

"Oh, we are," George assures her, "We're making a tactical retreat for the moment,"

"Dropped an accidental tonne-tongue toffee again?" she asks wryly.

George is impressed that she's heard that anecdote, and he tells her so. "But not that kind of tactical retreat," he adds, "We're leaving them for a while, playing hard to get. And what better way to do that than to dance with the most beautiful girl at the wedding,"

He winks. She is pretty, he reckons, especially today. Something about her is glowing with happiness. George doesn't have much time for girls who are too serious. His new sister-in-law's a stunner but she takes herself too seriously and doesn't smile often. From what the twins have observed, Ron might be on the cusp of getting somewhere with Hermione (they knew that book would do him good), but George has never understood what Ron sees a bird whose so uptight. Tonks is a fun type of girl, the type who jokes and giggles and explains how to get Extendable Ears through shield charms.

"Somebody's put their flattery hat on today," Tonks notes, "Can you spin me a bit slower, it's like dancing with a drunk Portkey,"

"Right, sorry," he says, slowing down. He's getting used to his missing ear so sometimes his movements can be too sharp and fast. "Anyway, I haven't got my flattery hat on, I'm usually this level of charming. You obviously haven't been paying enough attention,"

"You not getting enough attention? Fat chance,"

"I'll take that as a compliment. Where's the Prof got to, anyway?" George asks. He's barely seen Lupin all day.

Abruptly, Tonks' expression changes. Her face doesn't fall exactly, but there's a slight dimming of that glow about her. She stiffens in George's arms.

"Um, I'm not sure. I think he was talking to Hagrid,"

George can tell immediately that there's something not right here. He gives her a shrewd look, wondering if he should press it further. They only got married a few weeks ago, they can hardly be having problems already, can they? This is Ginny's area, and George makes a mental note to ask her later. In the meantime he settles on addressing the topic indirectly by shrugging, "Bet your wedding was much less palaver than this,"

Tonks looks relieved at the change of subject, "Yeah, it was really quiet, no dancing or dress robes or anything,"

"No dress robes? Wish I'd gone to yours instead of this one,"

"But there weren't any Veela at our wedding," Tonks points out, "Whoops, sorry. Told you I'd step on your toes,"

"Dress robes and Veela, or no dress robes and no Veela?" George ponders, moving his feet out of her way. The twins had bought new dress robes for the wedding which were a vast improvement on the revolting second-hand ones Mum gave them for the Yule Ball, but the collar and cuffs were tight and the bottom swirled unhelpfully around his feet. But the Veela girls were dazzling….

"Come off it, you'd take the Veela. You two don't care what you look like," scoffs Tonks.

"Hey!" George protests, then adds, "Although if you mean that we can pull any look off, however ridiculous, then you do have a point,"

"You're taking to the girl whose idea of fun is turning her mouth into a beak. I'm the queen of ridiculous looks,"

"And you pull them off ravishingly. I'm disappointed the pig nose isn't making an appearance today,"

"Might bring it out later," Tonks shrugs.

"I'm looking forward to it," he replies. They reach a corner of the dancefloor and head back the other way.

"Well, watch out for any pigs sneaking up on you while you're getting off with your Veela,"

"I'll give you five sickles if you do that to Fred,"

"Ten,"

"Six,"

"Seven,"

"Done,"

They shake hands, and after the song ends, George announces, "Shall we get a drink?"

He steers Tonks over to the bar, grabs two Firewhiskies, clinks them together, hands one to Tonks and drains his own. Tonks holds onto the glass but doesn't take a sip.

"Drink up," George coaxes.

"I think I'll have juice actually," Tonks says, setting the Firewhiskey down, "I've had enough booze for today,"

Boring. Who knew marriage would make her such a square? "Get a life, Tonks," George groans. But she shrugs and takes a pumpkin juice instead. That's weird- why isn't she bantering back? George isn't sure what's up and Tonks is being oddly evasive, so he continues cajoling.

"You haven't had too much, I've barely seen you drink anything all-"

He stops abruptly as realization slams into his brain. Woah. Woaaaah. She's not drinking. She wouldn't let him spin her fast. She's got that happy glow about her.

"Holy Merlin," George breathes, "You're pregnant,"

Tonks smiles. Then her jaw stiffens. She puts her glass down. George's brain is busy whirring with this revelation but he can see that Tonks is calculating how to reply. When eventually she settles on, "Err, yeah," she can't keep the grin from creeping back onto her face.

"Wow," marvels George, "Congratulations,"

"Thanks, George,"

He pulls her into a hug and kisses the top of her head. A baby. Tonks is having a baby. Crikey.

"Blimey, you two don't hang about. Only married five minutes and you've already got one in the oven," he observes, releasing her from his embrace.

"To be honest it wasn't entirely planned," she admits.

"The Professor's a speedy operator, eh?". Who'd have thought it of shabby old Lupin? George is impressed. But this time Tonks' face does fall.

"Oh, sorry," George backpedals hastily, "Have you told him?" Surely she must have done, she's hardly going to tell him before she tells her husband.

"Yes," Tonks confirms, and her eyes drop to the floor.

"And?" George prompts.

"And what?"

"Nobody pulls that face unless there's an 'and',"

"There's not," she says defensively.

"Is the Prof not happy about it?"

"George-"

"That's why he's avoiding you," George theorises, "He thinks it's too soon?"

"He's not avoiding me," Tonks snaps, "It's none of your business,"

Blimey. George, who counts himself as an expert on angry tones, has never heard her use that that one before. She sounds stung, too. Was it too personal a question? But of course he's going to be interested; she's his mate. Alright, he's nosey but Tonks knows that and she is too and that's why they get on. She's dealing with a Weasley twin, she knows what they're like. She likes that they're like that.

"I'm your friend, I just-" George begins, but the look Tonks gives him makes him change tack, "Alright, I'm sorry. Forget I said anything,"

Okay, okay, he'll shut up if she's going to be tetchy. George decides immediately that he's gone off this pregnant version of Tonks. Get back to him when the kid's a toddler and ready to have fun with.

Tonks closes her eyes slowly then opens them again. "Could you not tell anybody, George?"

"Oh. Alright, if you want," he says, confused. He rubs the spot underneath his missing ear uneasily.

"Not even Fred,"

Now she's being seriously ridiculous. "Well, I have to tell Fred," George scoffs. They don't keep secrets from each other. Never have, never will.

"I'm serious. We- I- he," she stammers, then seems to give up on a pronoun and continues, "Keeping it quiet. You know, what with everything else going on,"

"Fine, if it's that important to you I won't tell Fred," George promises, although he definitely will. Fred comes above everybody else.

"Thanks," she says stiffly. There's an awkward pause, and then Tonks mutters, "I'm going for a sit down. You'd probably be getting back to your Veela,"

She turns away abruptly.

"Tonks," George calls. She can't leave on that note. George has to know what's going on. He takes a couple of steps to follow but Xeno Lovegood gets in his way with his stupid dancing and by the time George has shooed him out of the way Tonks has merged into the crowd. Usually she's easy to find because of her hair, although today the blonde makes her less conspicuous. George cranes his neck but he can't see her, and the Prof hasn't reappeared either. Merlin, what's up with those two? George grabs another Firewhiskey while he computes it all. He'd been vaguely aware since a couple of years ago that the Prof and Tonks were close mates, but their engagement announcement a few days after Dumbledore's funeral had been a shock. Mum had been having kittens about it of course. And now Tonks is pregnant. The Prof is going to be a dad- that's a bizarre idea. He's, what, forty? He's a nice chap but a bit of a lone…well, wolf. George can't picture him playing trains or mashing bananas. And how's it going to work out with the werewolf thing? No matter how much of a decent bloke Lupin is, the idea that that's what he is makes George shudder sometimes. And the Metamorphmagus thing? Is Tonks going to give birth to a pink werewolf? Her initial reaction when George worked it out had been to smile so she must be pleased. But Professor Lupin's looking miserable and perhaps avoiding her so George doubts that he's as thrilled. Lupin's a worrier so he's likely to be panicking about baby clothes and burping and all that. He's an adult so he's probably got it into his head that it's not a good idea to bring a baby into the world at the moment. Well, it's not a good idea to run a joke shop either, but WWW has done better than ever this Summer holiday. Everything would be better if they all stopped being so flipping pessimistic. Professor Lupin's concern must be stressing Tonks out too. That's why she was being so Hermione-ishly waspish. She's normally like his ballsy big sister and George can't imagine her as a parent either (surely she'll drop the kid?). He needs to run this by Fred. George understands everything better once he's talked it through with Fred even if they're both as nonplussed as each other.

George grabs an extra Firewhiskey for his twin, checks his reflection in the glass in case he bumps into the Veela girls on the way, and sets off to find him. The abundance of Weasleys here today means that it's less easy to pick out a specific redhead. If Fred's snuck back early and nabbed George's Veela he'll hex him. It'd be very Fred to cheat like that. George scouts around for him by the desert station and the gate and the suspiciously spotless chicken coup. He's about the investigate inside the house to see if Fred's disappeared in there, when a familiar voice yelps at him.

"George, there you are. I need to talk to you- I've just been with the Prof and he was really weird with me, there's definitely something up,"

Fred is standing behind him also holding two glasses of Firewhiskey and looking perturbed.

"Did he tell you?" George asks, swapping his extra glass with Fred's.

"Tell me what? He didn't say much,"

A grin splits George's face. "Oh, Fred. Oh brother mine, do I have news for you…".


This chapter was lots of fun to write, so thanks for taking the time to read. Feedback has been a bit thin on the ground lately so I'd really appreciate it if you reviewed this chapter, or any other chapters. Thank you so much.