Wedding Afternoon: Jam

Guilt must have a sense of humour, because Nymphadora Tonks is dancing with George Weasley. The boy who has sustained a horrible injury because of Remus, and the girl who he's consigned to a life in poverty and exile, now with a werewolf pup to boot, are chatting and chuckling as they spin each other around the dancefloor in the Weasley's back garden. Remus is resisting the temptation to punish himself by watching them, so is instead concentrating very hard on the back of Viktor Krum's head while Krum talks to Hagrid. If only, Remus tells himself, he could have resisted temptation like this when it came to Tonks. He'd tried to push her away, but eventually gave in to lust and stupidity and selfishness. Now look where that's lead. Marrying her was bad enough, but now he's knocked her up, lumbered her with a half-breed husband and a God-knows-what child. And the worst part is that she's so happy about it. Dora's been glowing since she found out about the baby a few days ago; laughing louder than usual and touching him all the time. Remus wants to scream at her that she shouldn't be smiling about it, she should be terrified. This is a catastrophe. Last night he'd mentioned terminating the pregnancy and Dora had looked horror-struck. He'd wanted to snap that it wasn't an appalling idea; people did it all the time. She was only a few weeks gone, so although she kept saying "the baby" it was hardly more than a clump of cells at the moment. A tumour. It needed to be wiped out like a tumour, but he'd known from Tonks' face last night that she'd never agree to it. I'm having this baby, she'd told him, and when Dora had made her mind up about something woe betide anybody who tried to change it. He'd learnt that the hard way.

Then there's the boy she's dancing with, one of a pair of twins now missing one of his pair of ears. Remus knows that what happened wasn't entirely his fault, but he replays it on loop in his mind, asking himself what could he have done differently. If he'd glanced behind himself at the right moment, if he'd reminded George that being Harry's weight and size would affect his manoeuvrability, if he'd dodged the Death Eaters by flying higher instead of diving. Thestrals had been deemed the safest way to fly and Remus had thought that he'd been being helpful by saying that he'd travel by broomstick instead. What a stupid idea, he realised now. He wasn't a strong flier; he should have known he'd make mistakes in the air. He should have thought more of George, barely a year out of school- why hadn't Remus insisted on going by Thestral to keep him safe? And he'd ended up almost getting the boy killed. The twins joke about the hole in George's head, but everybody else winces when they see it. It's ghastly and surely it'll end up getting infected or causing some sort of problem in the future? A cheerful nineteen-year-old lad and Remus hadn't been able to stop him getting this dreadful injury.

Remus takes a sip of pumpkin juice and stares at Krum. He feels awful and, ironically, the only person who could make him feel better is half the reason he's feeling awful in the first place. He wants Tonks to come over and hug him from behind and tell him, like she sometimes does, "Don't worry, daft thing. We're going to be alright". He wants her to run her thumb over his cheek and sift her hands through his hair. He wants her to look at him with her mischievous smile and her eyes with that mad Black glint in them and tell him whatever bonkers thought is in her head. He wants-

"They're both flying way above their height with us, eh?" says a voice. Remus glances round to see Fred Weasley slipping into the seat beside him. He helps himself to Remus' glass and takes a sip, but pulls a face and puts it back down when he realises that it isn't alcoholic. Then he crosses one leg over the other and glances over at where Tonks and George are dancing.

"I thought you were off mingling with Fleur's Veela cousins?" Remus asks grumpily. He can't be bothered with Fred Weasley right now.

"Treat 'em mean, keep 'em keen, Professor," Fred trills. Remus shoots him a confused look and Fred elaborates, "I'm leaving them be for half an hour or so, pretend I've got some deeply important business to attend to. Make them wait for me. Girls are into it," he says wisely.

"What if they use that half-hour to find somebody else?" Remus asks. He vaguely hopes that this will make Fred go back to his Veela and leave him alone, but the boy seems to have thought this all through.

"They might," Fred shrugs, "But it's a wedding; there's plenty of birds to go around. What are you doing? Don't you dance?" Fred demands.

"I've already danced," Remus says. It isn't entirely untrue- Dora had dragged him up there earlier and he'd managed one song before shrugging her off.

"You're not dancing now. Come on, I'll help you find someone-" says Fred, leaping to his feet.

"I'm fine thanks, Fred,"

Remus expects Fred to ignore this and continue to ramble, but instead he looks shrewdly at Remus and sits back down.

"Something wrong, Prof? You look like someone's fed your Pygmy Puff to Fang". It's four years since he taught them, but twins still insist on calling Remus 'Professor' or 'The Prof'. Remus suspects that they reckon it winds him up, but actually he finds it rather charming.

"It's nearly full moon," Remus explains, even though the full moon is actually nine days away. Being a werewolf is beyond dreadful, but at least it gives him a ready-made excuse for being reluctant and distant.

"I call bull on that, sir, the full moon's at the end of next week," Fred chirps.

Bugger. How on Earth does Fred know that? Remus looks at him questioningly.

"George and I need to know it to pick moonflower roots for our daydream charms," he shrugs, "So. What's bothering you?"

Remus tries to think of something to say to divert the conversation, but Fred follows his gaze and theorises, "Well, you're obviously looking everywhere apart from your wife and my brother, so it's going to be something to do with them. George isn't going to steal your bird, if that's what you're worried about. He's got his own Veelas to attend to,"

"Right. Good to know," Remus mutters disinterestedly.

But then Fred says abruptly, "Does his ear bother you, sir?"

Remus turns to him. Fred's face is the most serious Remus has ever seen it.

"Don't beat yourself up about it, okay? We all knew what we were getting ourselves in for, joining the Order, fetching Harry that night. Me and George have talked it through hundreds of times and we agree it's worth it. Neither of us would have done it if the other one didn't want to, and we've thought it through and we do want to. So don't get thinking it's your fault,"

Remus almost gapes at him after this rather perplexing speech. He hadn't expected such a thoughtful and generous response. And Fred's right, isn't he- the twins are jokesters but they're not idiots, and they know exactly the risks they're taking on. Remus shouldn't have dismissed him.

"Thanks, Fred," he says at last.

"S'alright," the boy nods, looking oddly noble until he adds, "I mean, it's not a leg or a hand or a bollock, is it?"

"No, it's certainly not a bollock," Remus agrees, smirking in spite of himself.

"It's only an-" but Fred cuts himself off abruptly and looks down at his shoes.

"Fred?" Remus prompts, confused.

"It's only an ear," the boy whispers. When he looks up again, his face is completely different, "It's not really though, is it, sir?"

"I'm sorry?"

"Look, I said it wasn't your fault, and it isn't but …it's- it's not exactly easy," Fred mumbles. Remus has never heard him sound so hesitant. He says nothing and waits for Fred to continue. "I don't like not being identical. Our entire lives it's been Fred-and-George, 'Which one are you?', 'I can never tell you two apart'. That's our identity. Ironic, isn't it? And now, well, now we're not,"

Remus feels pity sink in his stomach. He hadn't thought about this before- it must be so bizarre and bewildering for Fred.

"Fred. I'm so sorry. I suppose everybody's been asking how George is but not you,"

"I'm not jealous," Fred replies quickly, "I'm…sad. I feel a bit betrayed, like he's left me somehow,"

"That makes sense," says Remus immediately, because it does. Of course it would seem to Fred like being left behind. Losing a piece of his identity. Being an identical twin is an unusual relationship, especially twins as close as Fred and George, so for an obvious physical change to happen to one of them must feel huge. It is huge.

"Have you spoken to George about this?" Remus asks.

"Of course," responds Fred, sounding mildly offended at the question.

"And what does he say? You don't have to tell me if you don't want to,"

"Nah, it's okay. He gets it, but it's different because it's happened to him, hasn't it? I'm the one left behind. I'm not used to that. And the identical thing…I feel a bit exposed. Nobody to hide behind,"

"You think you hide behind him?" Remus asks, surprised.

"Nah. But we…I dunno, it's hard to explain. You know how we are, sir,"

"Yes, I do," Remus smiles.

"Well, we're not like that anymore, are we?" Fred gazes dejectedly at his feet and finishes, "It's not your fault, okay?"

Remus looks at him and tries to believe his words, words which were unexpected from Fred Weasley's mouth. Inamongst the guilt and sympathy and inner turmoil, Remus feels strangely proud of him.

"Fred, I never-"

"-though I was that sensitive? We keep it well hidden,"

"No, I was going to say I never agreed with Professor Sinistra that the two boys who never did their homework in fifth year were going to become good-for-nothing wastrels. I'm pleased to say I was right,"

"Oh, Professor Lupin, you make me blush," says Fred, fanning himself mock-girlishly. Then he twigs an eyebrow and prods, "Anyway, now I've told you my woes, what about you? Trouble in paradise?"

"Everything's fine," says Remus, then grimaces at how tart his voice sounds.

Fred gives him a sceptical look. "Sir. Come on. It's obvious that y-"

"You're not going to get any gossip out of me because there's nothing to tell," Remus informs him. He crosses his arms, then realises it looks too defensive and unfolds them quickly. He shouldn't have interrupted either. Merlin, he doesn't know how to handle any of this.

"Fine, don't tell me," Fred sniffs, "Nothing stays quiet round here for long and we all know Tonks can't keep her trap shut,"

Remus glares at him but Fred ignores it, stands up and announces testily, "If you'll excuse me, I've got Veela to attend to, and you've obviously got a busy schedule moping. Thanks for the heart-to-heart,"

"No, it's-"

"If you weren't too busy feeling sorry for yourself you'd realise that I'm asking because we all want to help you, not cos I want to take the piss," Fred tells impatiently. If you weren't too busy feeling sorry for yourself…Dora had said something similar to him a long time ago, hiding in the attic of the house nextdoor to the Averys'. Remus isn't sure if she'd been right. He wants to ask Fred what he means- who else can tell something's wrong? (He doesn't like the idea of people talking about thme). What have they been saying? What do they think they can do to help?

"Fred, listen-"

Remus jumps to his feet, but Fred's already disappeared into the crowd.