If I Were a Painter

He'd lost him.

On top of everything else that made him ineffectual, he had lost Ron almost as soon as he'd gone after him. When he went to The Burrow to see if he could work out where he was from the Weasley family clock, everybody was up and sitting round the table drinking tea. Ron's mum had guessed why he was there and told him word had come from the Grangers and that Ron had shown up there in a state and he was going to spend the night on their sofa until he calmed down.

Harry and Charlie had questioned him about what had happened and then Charlie had offered him a Firewhisky but all Tommy wanted to do was go home and rest up for another busy day of being useless.

He hated sleep. He'd heard about the many awful things happening to the others while he was sleeping. He managed to sleep through being buried alive. He slept through Lee going into shock and convincing himself Ron was an impostor and the real Ron had drowned.

Tommy sometimes lay in bed and heard Auror Maccario's voice bellowing out his last words from the courtyard he had been executed.

I am not afraid of you!

He had a future, a fiancée, he was brave and selfless and strong. He was dead and Tommy wasn't.

"you're a bloody hypocrite if you do this, you have your little speech and your cup of potion and that sick little execution ritual of yours and now you want to throw all that out the window and drag a sick man to die. Where's the honour in that?"

Ron's voice of defiance and protection, at the time it had scared Tommy as well as moved him. He had made a friend who would stand before the men sent to drag him to his death and tell them 'not today you don't'

"Jij, haal Peakes."

Tommy closed his eyes and tried not to think of Jimmy being taken away in his place. Ron was begging for them to take him instead. Fergus was fighting the Death Eaters to try to keep Jimmy out of their clutches but they were all too weak from hunger and easily overpowered.

"Get yer mits offa him yer son of a hag. He's only seventeen fer fuck's sake."

Then Davies was being cursed and forced out of the cell with Jimmy. Two people were going to die for Tommy and the cell block was screaming and bellowing and Ron was barganing with the Puppet Master. All Tommy could think was 'Let me die, just put them back and let me die. Let me do something worthwhile to help them'.

He was no good to anyone in those cells and as far as Lee was concerned, he wasn't of any help to them on the outside world...an outsider himself. He had one thing going for him, though. He had a healthy relationship with his mother. They took care of each other and they understood each other. His mum felt guilty about all the friends she had made who lost their loved ones. She told Tommy about the Thomases and the Creeveys and they both talked about Chiara, Auror Macario's finacee. His mother spoke of her as a friend and Tommy spoke of her as a ray of hope and love that lit up their cells one day.

She was an outsider because she didn't lose her boy, her boy wasn't tortured, her boy wasn't put through hell in that mansion with its attic of cruelty. Tommy was an outsider for the same reasons, he wasn't a part of it all, he was there but he wasn't at the same time.

The telephone rang and Tommy let it trill out before wondering why it hadn't been answered yet, where his mother was, before jogging down the stairs and lifting the receiver from its cradle.

"8683?" he said by way of greeting, it's how everybody in the family answered the telephone, reciting the last four numbers dialed for no fathomable reason at all.

"Could I speak to Julie please?" a crackly male voice asked.

Tommy was immediately suspicious. Why was a strange man ringing his mother?

"Um...she's out, can I take a message?"

"Oh well I was just calling about the ad in the Post this week. She wants to sell her upright piano, I was just wondering if I could come round and have a look at it to see what kind of condition it's in."

Tommy blinked.

"She's selling the piano?"

"I'm sorry?"

"Why is she selling the piano?" Tommy said, more to himself than anyone else.

"I really don't know. Um, maybe I'll try again later. Sorry, goodbye."

The phone clicked and Tommy was left listening to a dial tone for a long agonising minute before replacing it. He looked around the quiet house and then called out.

"Mum?"

Nothing.

"Mum, you here?"

Still nothing.

Tommy marched into the living room and opened the drop down door of the drinks cabinet. They'd never kept drinks in it as far back as Tommy could remember. It was their storage space for papers they needed to keep and receipts and bills and the like. Tommy picked up an opened envelope and pulled out the letter inside. The ink was red and it warned of a suspension of services unless the amount owed was paid in full immediately.

Tommy grabbed another bill and saw more red letters. They were behind in their rent by a considerable amount. Tommy opened more and more letters until he found a letter from one of his uncles.

Julie girl,

I know you got behind while you were in Holland and now Tom's in that magic hospital place so I thought I'd send you a check to help you out until you're both back on your feet.

Call if you need more.

Andrew.

Tommy saw the check was untouched, his mother hadn't cashed it, and he wasn't the least surprised. He glanced over to the piano beside the window and sighed. Neither of them could play it. It was his fathers, but he still felt a sense of betrayal at the prospect of it being sold.

It was more than that. It was the fact that a price was to be put on it at all. People were going to look it over and haggle the price down because it had chipped varnish and a stiff pedal and it was ever so slightly out of tune. It was going to be look at like an object, a thing to be owned, and it wasn't. It was part of his home, part of his family, and he knew his mother felt the same way about it too.

How could she sell it?

Tommy sat down on the stool before the piano and ran his fingers along the lid fondly. She'd got into debt because she'd been in Holland, then at the hospital, and it was all because of him. She was going to sell the piano because her perspective had changed and what was a piano when you had your loved one safe and well and with you?

Tommy sighed sadly. He wasn't going to be able to hurt her feelings by complaining about the sale of the piano. He wasn't about to embarrass her by letting her know he'd found out about the final demands. He was going to be strong for her in the same way she was being for him. He'd not suffered trauma like the others. Why was he still living a life of recovery?

He'd get out there and get a job to pay his way. He'd probably never get employed in the Wizarding world right now but how hard would it be to get a job in the Muggle world? He was Muggle-born after all, he understood the money, and most menial tasks didn't require a Muggle education.

He nodded to himself and grabbed the paper from the rack beside the television, flicking to the recruitment section.

"Well, isn't this nice?" Molly beamed at the women as she sat back in her chair and watched the waiter set down their pot of tea and china cups.

"Very mumsie of us, yes," Floella nodded with a curl of the lip.

"Proper china's nothin' to get snarky about Floella, especially when half of mine's been broken."

"Butterfingers?" Julie asked the tired looking, Irish woman.

"No," Marie shook her head and shrugged nonchalantly, "me and Fergus like to throw crockery when we're in a temper from time te time. I think there may be some Greek in us."

Floella chuckled and watched as Molly poured for everyone.

"Ahh see," she teased the red-haired woman, "Molly's even playing mother with us. This is supposed to be a break for you, girl."

Molly flushed in the face and smiled bashfully.

"Well, never having been waited upon, I'm really not comfortable with it. I like to keep busy."

"Learn teh put yer feet up, Mol," Marie said, kicking off her shoes and waggling her toes with a groan of pleasure. "It's rare me corns get any sun, ye know?"

Julie laughed loudly and Marie looked very pleased with herself.

"So, as the only one of us with a husband, are ye gettin' yer end away still, Molly?"

"Marie!" Molly gasped, dropping three sugar cubes into her tea by mistake.

Julie chuckled and felt thankful that she wasn't at any risk of being dragged into any kind of sex talk. Molly was almost beetroot in the cheeks as she mopped up the spatters of tea from the table cloth and Floella tugged the napkin away from her with a tut and a roll of the eyes.

"It's their job to clean up after you. That's why we're paying so much money for nothing but tea, girl!" Floella aid with a shake of the head.

Molly wasn't having it though. She pulled out her wand and Scourgified the spillage discreetly. They were in a posh Muggle place and Marie slapped the back of Molly's hand as if she was a child reaching for a biscuit before dinner.

"Bad girl, Molly Weasley!" she chided with a grin.

"Oh, nobody saw," Molly said as she made sure her wand was tucked away safely in her bag.

"I did!" Julie said chirpily. "And I'm an easily-shocked Muggle, didn't anybody tell you?"

"Well, it's nice to get away from being ganged up on and made the butt of jokes at home to come out with my friends and receive the same treatment!" Molly muttered with a rueful smile.

"Ahhh, ye hear tha girls?" Marie said as she leaned over and gave Molly a one-armed hug. "Molly thinks we're like family!"

"Like my family," Molly clarified, "and I'm sure you all know by now that's not a complement!"

All four women laughed.

"Ah, Molly, your Ron's speech is so much better these days. He was so clear when I spoke to him the other day," Floella said as the laughter faded into smiles.

"Yes," Molly nodded proudly, "he's been working so hard."

"And Charlie is still at home?" Julie asked, feeling a pang of envy at Molly and her full house.

"He won't go back to work until things settle down at home," Molly sighed. "I've tried talking to him about...well, what he did, but he only wants to talk to Ronnie about it."

"Oh, Molly, my love," Marie frowned, "that's not fair on the lad. He has so much to carry already."

"He knows. He's waiting for things to get better and then he's going to..." Molly stared off into space for a moment before blinking and shaking her head to clear it. "I don't know what he wants to say but he's staying until he gets to say it. I can't say I'm not happy about it. He's usually away from home for so long."

"Maybe he could talk to Lee for me, get him to embrace staying at home for a day or two."

"Could we get the bill, please?" Julie asked the waiter with a smile.

Soon enough, a small silver dish was set down with a piece of paper and four small chocolate mints set upon it. Molly was mightily impressed by such a treat and put hers into her handbag to show the family when she got home. Marie wolfed hers down in one and Floella told Molly to take hers and give it to Lee. 'You'll being seeing him before I do I'm sure,' she'd told Molly. Julie pulled out two notes from her purse and set them down on top of the bill, weighted down by the one remaining mint so it didn't blow away in the breeze.

Very quickly, the waiter was back to whisk away the dish and leave them to enjoy the last drop of tea from the pot, Molly pouring as always.

"I would suggest Ron go to your house one night to keep Lee company but then...well then, I know Harry would be at a loss. He does pine, you know? Never had a friend like Ron before, you see, and he doesn't know what to do with himself at our house when Ron's not there."

"But he's still courtin' yeh girl, Ginny, isn't he?" Marie frowned.

"Oh, yes but, I don't know, they've become quite lukewarm with each other since Ronnie came home."

"It could be the same problem, Molly," Julie suggested. "Lee pines for Ron and can't concentrate on anything else. Ron's pining for Hermione but he can't be with her in his state. Harry's pining for Ron and neglecting your Ginny who's pining for Harry!"

"Oh all that pine!" Marie groaned. "You could start a forest fire with that much kindling."

Molly sighed and chortled and Floella began to pull her shawl, a summery coloured wrap, around her shoulders. Julie put her purse back into her bag and zipped it up before looking up to see if the others were ready to go. Molly glanced over to the waiter who was inside, chatting to one of the waitresses.

"He's still not back with your change, Julie?"

"What?" Julie blinked. "Oh no, places like this tend to assume the change is their tip and leave us to go. He was a nice enough fella though; I don't begrudge him a little something."

Marie and Molly stared at her blankly. Floella pulled her own purse out of her handbag and opened it, looking to Julie expectantly.

"Oh no, it's on me," Julie smiled. "Put it away."

"Are you sure, girl? I have Muggle money that just sits in my purse for months these days. Let me go halves with you."

"No, no, I insist." Julie said as she put her hands in her lap under the table so no money could be placed into them.

"Okay, then," Floella said as she closed her purse once more, "my treat next time though, yes?"

"Oh yes. I'll have a cream cake then!" Julie teased.

Floella laughed and shoved Julie gently. Molly was still glancing at the waiter and waving every now and then to catch his attention.

"He's not coming back with your change, Julie," she said worriedly. "What was it you said you had to pay for as well?"

"Yeah," Marie said with a frown. "We only had a pot'o tea between us. I know it's overpriced here but not that much."

"He kept the change as a tip." Julie smiled and pushed her chair away from the table, ready to stand.

Again, Marie and Molly simply stared at her. Floella leaned over and whispered into her ear.

"The Wizarding world don't have tipping, Julie."

"Oh really?" Julie blinked. "Sorry, I didn't realise. Well, it's a little bit extra you give to the person who served you."

Marie's frown deepened.

"Fer what?"

"For...serving you." Julie explained simply.

"He doesn't already get paid fer than?" Marie asked.

"No, he does. He gets his weekly wage but the customer can give him a little extra for good service."

"You didn't give it to him though, Julie," Molly said as if worried that Julie hadn't noticed something very unreasonable had just happened to her. "He just took it without asking. He kept your money."

"So, he's assuming his service was so good it was worth all yer change, is that right?" Marie said, now glaring at the waiter through the window.

"No! Not at all, it's just the way Muggles do things. I mean it's not even so bad here. If you go to America, you're expected to tip a certain percentage no matter what the service was like!"

"What?" Marie exclaimed.

"Well, if the service is poor you can refuse to tip at all Julie," Floella conceded before turning to Molly and Marie. "But it is the generally accepted thing to do over there. Like saying please and thank you is to us here."

"But..." Molly was still confused, "but he's being paid by the owner of the tearoom, yes?"

"Yes," Julie nodded.

"He's being paid to serve us tea?" Molly went on.

"Yes," she confirmed once again.

"So why are you tipping him for serving us tea if he's already been paid to do it by the owner?" Molly asked, looking totally lost.

"It's like a bonus for him being friendly and polite and not keeping us waiting," Julie explained with a smile.

"He should do that anyway!" Marie exclaimed loudly.

"That's what I thought," Molly frowned.

"Yeh lettin' him keep yer money without askin' fer doin the job he's already bin paid teh do?" Marie said for her own clarification.

"Well, when you say it like that..." Floella said as she too frowned and looked over her shoulder at the waiter who now seemed to notice the table full of women hadn't departed and were in fact scowling at him.

"It's alright, girls," Julie said in a placatory fashion, "I don't mind. He was very nice."

"Bollix was he!" Marie swore and waved her hand to beckon him back to the table now she had his attention.

"But..." Julie said, feeling herself cringing with embarrassment as other patrons of the tearoom stopped chatting to watch.

"He didn't even pour, Julie. I did," Molly said, still not quite understanding why Muggles helped themselves to money they hadn't earned and didn't deserve.

"Well, we did say to let him do it," Floella said reasonably.

"But he was gone," Marie countered. "He put the pot down and scarpered. Yes you, c'mere!" Marie snapped as the waiter gingerly approached the table.

"Is there a problem, ladies?" he asked timidly.

"I'm really sorry about this but..." Julie began before Marie cut her off.

"Yes, there is. Yeh didn't bring my friend her change. Why is that?"

"Oh," he said, startled, "I'm sorry I just assumed...I'll go and get it now." The man turned to leave, but was stopped by Marie's voice.

"And who are you to assume?" Marie said as she got to her feet.

"I am very sorry, madam. I'll get your change now."

"No, you get back here and tell me what yeh did fer us that was so bloody good ye assumed you could keep her change without askin'," Marie said with a raised voice.

The man mouthed silently and waved his hand around as if he was literally grasping at straws.

"What kinda place is this that you charge us through the nose fer a simple pot o'tea and then help yerself teh our money as reward fer showing common courtesy?"

"I'll get your change right now, madam, and I am very, very sorry," the man said before practically running away.

Once he'd gone, Floella frowned at Marie and beckoned her closer to hiss something for only the four of them to hear.

"Hold on…you were married to a Muggle. You know all about tipping."

Marie winked mischievously and waggled her eyebrows.

"Watch this," she said as she stood up straight again and the waiter and the manager came scurrying over to the table, "and who're you then? Come teh explain the rip-off that just took place, have yeh?"

"I am the manager of this establishment, madam, and I am truly sorry of you feel insulted, offended or conned in any way."

"Is it yer policy to take away this woman's option teh tip by keeping her money without her say so?" Marie said as she pointed to Julie, who was now sinking slowly beneath the table in embarrassment.

"Indeed, it isn't and I would like to reimburse your friend in full by way of an apology for this unpleasantness." The Manager smiled in a way he apparently thought was charming.

Marie drew in a deep breath and looked to Julie.

"Well, that's somethin' I suppose, Julie, open yer purse...yer man here's goin' teh give yeh a tip."

Floella almost exploded with stifled laughter. Molly was nodding her head approvingly and Julie felt as if her head was going to burst into flames as she took her money back from the grovelling man.

As they left, Floella's eyes strained to hold back tears from escaping. A jovial and triumphant Marie linked arms with Julie and smiled.

"It's the Finnigan party piece, ye know?" she said proudly. "My Fergus doesn't get himself thrown outta pubs accidentally. He always seems to get inteh some aggro when his money runs out."

Julie chuckled and squeezed Marie's arm while Molly and Floella trailed along behind them, Molly fretting about still keeping the mints when they hadn't paid their bill.