Retail & Therapy
It was an extremely red, extremely skimpy set of underwear.
"This is for Bill," George beamed, holding the coat-hanger up proudly.
"Fleur's going to wear it, not him. Well, I hope so," added Fred.
"Because Fleur's present is this," said George, delving into the shopping bag and withdrawing a camera, "We all know how much she loves looking at herself,"
"And we're writing a note in their Christmas card to say we'd like copies too,"
Tonks raised a smile. She'd been hoping to survive her pre-Christmas dash to Diagon Alley without meeting anybody she knew, but she'd bumped (literally) into the Weasley twins in Madam Primpernelle's, and they'd demanded that she come for a Firewhiskey with them. Tonks had protested that she'd only just left Hogsmeade for her weekend off, but the twins insisted that that was all the more reason they needed to catch up. As sunny and amicable as they were, Fred and George had a Weasley stubbornness which made them difficult to escape from once they zoned in on you. Reluctantly, Tonks had let them take her to the Leaky Cauldron, and the twins were happily giving her a run-down of the Christmas presents they'd bought for everybody. Tonks hadn't been paying much attention, but she couldn't help notice how flashy Fred and George's gifts were. They were wearing dragsonskin jackets and silky cravats, too, and they'd refused to let Tonks pay for a round in the pub. Their business seemed to be going well, and twins were evidently enjoying having money to spend. Tonks supposed that they hadn't really had that before.
"We bought this for Ron," continued Fred, taking a hardback book from the bag, "But actually we think we might save it until his birthd-"
"Fred! Shh!" interrupted George, yanking the book off him.
"What?"
"That book is not for girls' eyes,"
"Come on, she'll be cool with it. Tonks, you're cool with deeply inappropriate literature, right?"
"Literature? Not really my thing," Tonks shrugged, "Inappropriate? Always,"
"You'll enjoy this literature," Fred assured her, tugging the book back from his twin.
George held his hands up in surrender. "Your funeral," he muttered.
Fred shoved the book at Tonks. Twelve Fail-Safe Ways to Charm Witches, she read on the cover. The name rang a bell…something the boys at school had been into, and seemed to believe that girls would never find out about.
"Oh, this. Yeah, I think it was a thing when I was at Hogwarts," she glanced up at Fred and George's identical faces, "Bit kiddie, isn't it?"
"That's why it's for Ron," explained Fred.
"Our baby brother is naïve when it comes to matters of the heart," added George, "Ginny keeps teasing us she's got a massive piece of gossip about him, but we reckon she's only saying that to get us off her case,"
"We'd know if it was him and Hermione, right? We'd have heard the universe's sigh of relief if those two had sorted themselves out,"
George tapped the Twelve Fail-Safe Ways to Charm Witches' cover. "Hence the book,"
Fred flipped it open to the Contents Page. "See?"
Tonks scanned the chapter titles: 1. Primary Principles, 2. Conversation-Starters, 3. Manners and Etiquette, 4. Crucial Consent, 5. Butter Her Up, 6. Keys To Communication 7. When Things Go Wrong, 8. Kissing, 9. Moving To The Bedroom, 10. Wandwork (Diagrams Included)-
Fred snapped the book shut before Tonks could read anymore. "You get the idea,"
And then the train hit. The train of guilt and dread and terror, which chugged permanently through Tonks' mind, turned on its horn and came careering into the forefront of her brain. It had happened every day since the Summer, overwhelming her with remembering Sirius, or flashing back to what had happened at the Ministry. Or a sudden, violent urge to tell Remus something. He'd have a clever remark for when she told him about the Weasley twins buying Ron a book about women, and he'd have one hell of a stumped face if Tonks asked him if he'd ever read anything like that. She loved making him boggle and splutter, because it was cute and un-Remus-y.
8. Kissing. Tonks thought about kissing him a lot, remembering the taste and shape of his mouth. His lips were often dry and chapped, the texture rough though the pressure was soft. She remembered the pixies-in-the-stomach giddiness when she looked up into his face knowing he was about to kiss her (the childlike urge to giggle and curl away from him, juxtaposed by staggering desire to snog. And the trepidacious, awed look on his face, flooring her with how precious he made her feel). That happened less than the number of times she kissed him. The ratio, Tonks has come to realise, was wildly different: she kissed Remus far more than Remus kissed her. It was symbolic of other aspects of their relationship: it was her who was pursuing him, pushing for them. Tonks had mostly believed that it was because Remus was nervous and haunted and uneasy in relationships. But perhaps she'd been kidding herself. What if the answer was more simple and less dramatic: she wanted him more than he wanted her. She loved Remus more than Remus loved her back. That explained how easy it was for him to leave. Yes, his guilt and shame and belief that he was saving her were definitely part of it- disappearing on a mission to Fenrir Greyback's pack wasn't a convenient relationship get-out. But it still demonstrated the uncomfortable truth about the discrepancy in their feelings. Tonks wanted to grimace because it made her look so stupid. Like a ditzy kid in love with a teacher or a popstar or a friend's big brother. And okay, she thought he was cool and smart and fascinating and she'd looked up to him- idolised him, really- but it hadn't felt like a childish infatuation. It had felt like, it had been, a real, true love story. She'd been in love before, but with Remus it was substantial and important. Tonks knew it had been meaningful to Remus, too, but perhaps she should start accepting that their romance had impacted her more than it affected him. What the hell was she supposed to do with that acceptance? Talk herself out of love with him, like Remus had recommended she do? That was impossible.
"Wake up, Nymphadora!" interjected one of the twins loudly.
"What?" she mumbled, "Oh, sorry. Yeah,"
The boys were looking at her expectantly, and she realised what they were waiting for: "I mean, don't you dare call me that,"
"Fred was asking if you have to get Mad-Eye a Christmas present," George ploughed on, "He's got to be tricky to buy for,"
"That wasn't a plug, by the way," added Fred, "Although…"
"I haven't seen a budget so I don't know how many of your defence gimmicks we're buying," Tonks informed him bluntly.
"Gimmicks!?"
"For that we're charging double,"
Auror Opinions on the Defence Range at Weasley's Wizard Wheezes varied from hugely in favour, to utter disdain. Mad-Eye pretended to most people that it was the latter, though he'd admitted to Tonks off-the-record that the twins' creativity "wasn't bad".
"Right," she muttered, and saw Fred and George glance at each other with concerned, resigned faces. Before Tonks could do anything else, Fred put his hand on hers. He looked at her with the same expression he'd looked at George with, though this time there was more sympathy on his face. Tonks almost choked on her Firewhiskey.
And she nearly fell off her chair when Fred asked gently, "Are you…okay?"
Was this the Weasley twins asking her a sincere question? Holding her hand as if to console her. Fred and George had always been sweet, their kindness presenting itself through banter and jokes, sarcasm and gossip. They paid attention and shared chocolates. Now that they had money they were enjoying spoiling their friends with drinks and gifts and favours. Tonks had never known them to show kindness through being tender like this. Nonplussed, she stared back at Fred, and the pity in his eyes mortified her. There was no joke or scam or gimmick. They were her friends and they were genuinely asking.
"I'm fine," she answered swiftly.
"You sure?"
"Yes. Work's a ball-ache at the moment. Thought I was shot of Hogwarts," she said, aware that this was both a weak excuse and a weak joke.
"At least you're being paid to be there," George pointed out, "We wouldn't go back to school for a hundred galleons,"
"Is that what's getting you down?" asked Fred, and Tonks could tell that what he meant was: That clearly isn't what's getting you down.
"You know how what it's like up there in the cold when there's only daylight for six hours," she blagged, "And, umm, it's been a crap year,"
Which was mostly true. 1996 had kicked off with Bellatrix escaping from prison, had middled with Sirius dying and Remus leaving, and was ending with poisonings in Hogsmeade. There'd been three, almost four months, of a joyous, beautiful, fun relationship, but that was over now and everything was worse because of it.
"I know," nodded George.
"You can owl us if you need us," said Fred, and Tonks was relieved to see that his tone was the familiar, "papering over problems with humour" voice which was the Weasley twins' trademark, "And we'll owl some Nosebleed Nougats up to get you off Hogsmeade night shifts,"
He winked and let go of her hand.
"Another round?" offered George, "Toast to a better year next year?"
"Nah, I'd better head off. Got some life admin to do at home," Tonks said, which was actually true.
Hogsmeade and heartbreak had meant that she had even more unopened letters from Gringotts than usual. Plus, there was always Order work which needed doing, and she should probably grit her teeth and pop in at Mum and Dad's place. Visiting home nowadays felt awkward and bleak. Mum probably blamed her for Sirius' death, but didn't want to admit it. Perhaps idiotically, Tonks had told Dad about Remus. She knew he'd accept it more than Aisling, Levi, or God forbid, Mum. But he'd still gone barmy, he'd said some horrible words about Remus, and Tonks had caught him since, eyeing her, mulling it over in his mind. Tonks couldn't stand the idea of Dad imagining Remus being all sorts of heinous things and doing all sorts of dreadful stuff to her. She was the one who knew Remus and loved him. She'd seen him as a werewolf, so she knew that all it was was humiliating and pitiable. Nobody, including Remus, believed her. The Order were on Remus' side of course, but none of them knew him like she did, and with Sirius dead, Tonks was the only person who understood what being a werewolf was like for him. In Divination she'd studied Cassandra, the woman who made true prophecies but was never believed. What Tonks hadn't appreciated in Divination was just how lonely Cassandra must have felt.
"God, you're such an adult," huffed Fred, "We never do admin,"
Tonks eyed him sceptically. Anybody making that much money that quickly must have to do tonnes of loans and payments and taxes, not to mention all the intricacies of running a business.
"What's that face for?" exclaimed George, "Seven years of skipping homework never did us any harm,"
"Right, well, I'll see you two later," Tonks sighed, pulling her cloak on.
"Are you coming round over Christmas?" asked Fred, "Mum keeps banging on about it,"
"Umm. Probably not. Say thank to Molly though, and tell Ginny I promise I will get round to writing to her soon,"
"Yes, sir," said George. Tonks hugged and kissed them both goodbye, clawing around her brain for a joke to leave on. You always had to leave the Weasley twins with a joke. And especially today when if she didn't they really would worry. Tonks was always thinking of wisecracks at inappropriate moments but now, the one time she needed to come up with a gag, her mind was blank.
"Bye," she muttered, lamely. For God's sake, why couldn't she think of a joke? Who did the Weasley twins take the piss of? Ginny, Ron, Fleur- Fleur. Come on, here had to be some low-hanging fruit when it came to Fleur jokes.
"Hope Fleur likes her new knickers," Tonks managed to jest.
The boys spluttered with laugher, and she thought she might collapse with relief. She waved and dashed from the pub as fast as she could. Humiliation swirled with victory inside her along with the Firewhiskey (she hadn't had a drink for weeks. Tonks knew that she had a tendency to go too heavy on the booze when she was stressed or upset. Nothing crazy or dangerous, just a smidge of over-indulgence. This was perhaps the most upset and stressed she'd ever been and she knew there was the possibility to go completely off the rails. When Savage has produced a bottle of Merlot on their first evening in Hogsmeade Tonks had realised that it was probably best that she refuse it. She hadn't not gone teetotal, but she wasn't drinking much at all anymore, and missing it only made her think of how much better off she was without it).
Tonks yanked the hood on her cloak up and bolted down Diagon Alley, with the noise of the twins' laughter still cackling behind her.
