To Love a Twin

Chapter 9: The Family Visit

The next day, Kira got up early. She had managed to cut and hem a pretty red and white checked gingham valance for the tiny kitchen window the night before, but she was dismayed to find that she had neglected to buy curtain rods, or a hammer to install one with. George found her there, standing in the kitchen, glaring at the window as if she were angry at it.

"Morning, Kira," he said. "Something wrong?"

"Oh, I got the valance for this window done, but I'd forgotten to get a curtain rod or any tools to even put a rod up. I still have to find a butcher shop and get a roast to make for dinner. I don't have time to find a hardware store."

"That's not a problem," George said, "I can put your curtain up with a sticking charm."

He looked around the kitchen. She'd certainly been busy. Everything they'd bought had been opened and placed on the counter. The canisters were filled, the tiny ice box held the milk, juice, eggs, and vegetables they'd bought. The dishes, glasses, pots, and pans were in cupboards that had been scrubbed clean.

"That'd be great," she said. She pulled the new frying pan she'd bought from the cupboard. "How do you like your eggs?" she asked.

"Um...cooked is always nice," he said, walking to the stove.

"All right then, Mr. Smart-ass, we'll have them scrambled, with some cheese melted on them. My favorite," she said, walking to the icebox and removing the eggs, butter, and milk.

He opened a door on the front of the stove, pointed his wand at it and said, "Incendio."

A flame burst into life, a flame that obviously did not need kindling or any other material to thrive. Quick jabs of the wand at the burners on top lit them too. Kira broke the eggs into her new white and red mixing bowl, added milk, salt, pepper, and began to stir it briskly with the wire contraption she'd bought at the store. She put a hunk of butter in the frying pan and set it on the stove to melt.

"Can the fire be lowered a tad?" she asked. "I don't want the butter scorched."

George walked over and lowered it. Then, he stood in the doorway and watched as she poured the egg mixture into the pan and stood, stirring it, as the eggs began to thicken. She put a couple slices of bread on the other burners to toast, carefully turning them every few seconds with tongs.

George liked watching her. She was supremely organized, managing to pour glasses of juice, cook the eggs and toast, and grate cheese onto the eggs to melt over the top without anything burning. She was wearing a thin white cotton nightdress. As she passed back and forth in front of the window, George could see the outline of her body underneath. He had not realized how difficult it would be to live as sister and brother with a woman who wasn't his sister.

When she brought the plates over and set them on the table, she noticed where his eyes were directed and flushed. She realized she'd forgotten to put on her robe. She went to cross her arms over the front of her, but George suddenly walked toward her. He stepped behind her and slipped his arms around her waist, pressing her against him. She just fit so well.

"You're so pretty," he whispered, his mouth at her ear. One of his hands slid up her arm and moved aside her hair so he could bury his lips in the crook of her neck, his other hand on her stomach.

He could feel her pulse race under his lips and heard her softly whimper. She wasn't as immune to him as she liked to pretend, he realized.

"Ah, Kira," he whispered, "the same hole exists in both our hearts. There's nothing wrong with taking comfort in each other's arms. Fred would not only approve, he'd applaud. He would hate it if we denied ourselves the chance to be happy, especially if we used him as the excuse. He despised people who held onto negative emotions. It's so easy to wallow in in them. I know. I've been doing it since he died. But having you and the baby come into my life has helped me to come out of it. We have a future, you and I. And because of the baby, so does Fred."

Kira turned to face him. She placed her hands on his chest and then rested her head there. He was so solid, someone to hang on to, and she trusted his kindness. As much as she had loved Fred, he had been insubstantial. He would vanish for days, sometimes weeks. She would be at the point of doubting him, of not trusting that she was even worthy of having anyone love her when suddenly, she'd look up and he'd be standing there, in the shop, warming it with his smile.

She felt so guilty. She wondered what George would think of her if he knew the truth. She had been so miserable before she'd learned that Fred had died. She had come to believe that he had dumped her after getting what he'd wanted. As horrible as learning he was dead had been, it had, at least, let her know that he hadn't just been using her. He would have come back for her if he could have.

"I need to put him to rest, in my mind," she said. "I do have feelings for you, George. I'm so grateful for the kindness you've shown me. I know I need to move on, and I'd like to move on with you. But right now, my mind is all mixed up. I know you're right. He would be the the first to tell us to get over it and move on. I'm sorry."

"I understand," he said.

"Where is he buried?"

"At Hogwarts. All the graves of those who fell in the battle are there, surrounding Dumbledore, the headmaster. It seemed fitting, somehow. Dumbledore's Army. A lot of good people died that day."

"Can I go there? I want to see his grave. There's this huge part of me that still doesn't believe it. Maybe it would help."

"I'll take you," he said, still holding her and stroking her hair. "We'll go this weekend. I'd also like you to see the new store we're opening. We'll stay at the Three Broomsticks in Hogsmeade."

After breakfast, Kira straightened up while George donned his magenta robes and went down to the store.

Kira retrieved all Fred's jumpers from the trunk and spread them out on the kitchen table. She began to cut them up for her planned blanket, making sure to cut neat, perfect squares around the letter F's on each. For each and every one, she mentally relived a different time she and Fred had been together.

Fred and George had begun stopping into the shop while she was minding it when she was fourteen. When she was sixteen, the visits had become less frequent. Fred had later told her that they had left Ottery St. Catchpole and opened a business in London.

But then two Christmases ago, her father had sent her outside to shovel the walk. He had gone upstairs, not letting her go up to find a coat or gloves to wear. Fred had come by, and she'd asked him where George was. Fred had told her that George was with Debbie at the paper shop. Then he'd asked her what she was doing outside with no coat on. He'd reached out and taken her red, freezing hands in his and tried to warm them. When she'd told him that her father wouldn't let her go fetch a coat, Fred had told her to get back inside and he'd take care of the walk.

Kira had stood in the shop watching him through the window. After a minute, George had joined him and the two had spoken for a few minutes. All the time they'd spoken, George had been looking in the window at her. Finally, he had given her a short nod and left. When Fred had come in to say the sidewalk was clear, he'd wanted to be paid for his labour.

"You're full of it," she'd said, laughing. "You never even touched that shovel. I was watching through the window. You were talking to your brother."

"You're calling me a liar?" he'd said, placing his hands over his heart. "I'm wounded."

Kira had gone outside to check. She couldn't believe it. Not only had the snow and ice vanished, but the pavement was actually dry. She'd come back inside and looked at him. "How did you do that?" she had asked, confused.

"Magic," he'd answered, with a wicked smile. "Now, my wages, please?"

Kira's curiosity had been extinguished by his smile. "How much do I owe you? I don't think I can afford it."

Fred had walked over to her, stopping less than an inch away. "Just this," he'd said. He'd bent and kissed her on the forehead. "And maybe this." He kissed her on the nose. "And this." He kissed her cheek. "And most definitely this." He'd covered her lips with his.

Before he'd left, he'd asked her to meet him later that evening, in the gazebo in the park. She'd said yes, knowing that she'd risk anything, even her father's wrath, to see him again. The next time they'd met in a cafe. She used to sneak out after her father had passed out from drink, or when he was in the pub. Her mother had never asked any questions.

After all of the jumpers were cut up, Kira got dressed and headed out herself, stopping in the store to tell George that she was going to find a butcher shop. She made her way through the Leaky Cauldron and out to Charring Cross Road. She walked down to the sewing shop to ask Yvonne if she knew of a butcher in the area. Yvonne did, so Kira walked a few blocks up the street and found the perfect roast.

On her way back through the Leaky Cauldron, she smiled at the sudden silence that accompanied her entrance. She was getting used to it and found their undivided attention rather amusing. She approached the bar and greeted Tom, the barman. "Good Morning, Tom," she said brightly.

Tom looked at her and hesitated a moment before answering. "G'mornin' Mrs. Weasley," he said.

"George said to ask you to let me through the wall, into Diagon Alley. Would you help me through, please?"

"I'll help her through, Tom," said a woman behind her. "It's just about time for my shift to start anyway."

Kira turned around to see Verity sitting at a table with another witch. She was wearing her maroon Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes robes. She got up and walked toward the back hall that led to the brick wall. Kira smiled at Tom and wished him a good day and followed Verity to the back alley.

"Thank you, Verity," she said.

Verity smiled weakly at her. "You're welcome," she said, her eyes lingering on Kira's stomach more than necessary. She touched the bricks with her wand and the wall opened. "No offense, but are you pregnant?" she asked as they began their walk up Diagon Alley.

Kira barked out a laugh at the bald question. She patted her stomach and said, "Yes, actually, I am. I'm due in early February sometime."

"Listen, I don't want you to get the wrong idea. There was never anything between Geo...I mean Mr. Weasley and me. And...now he's married, I'd never...I mean, I don't go around messing with married men, you know? I admit, I had hoped, but I didn't know he was with someone else."

"I understand, Verity," she said. "I know it must have been a shock. I'm sorry for that. George should have handled it better."

"I'll get over it," she said. "There are other wands in the trees."

By now the two girls had reached the store. Kira walked in to see that George's family had arrived. They had brought Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and Harry with them. Her heart fell as she realized that the roast wasn't half big enough for all of them.

"Oh, here's Kira now," said Mrs. Weasley, coming over to give her a hug. "We want to take you and George out to dinner tonight, dear. We want to celebrate your wedding."

Oh, but I'd bought a roast, Mrs. Weasley," Kira said.

"It'll keep," said Mrs. Weasley. "And enough of that Mrs. Weasley stuff. Fleur calls me 'Maman Weasley.' I hate it. Please, just call me Mum like all the children do. Now, don't be stubborn about making dinner. You weren't expecting all of us, but Ginny had to come to be fitted for new Quidditch robes. She's been named captain of the Gryffindor team for her last year. And, of course, Harry wanted to come with her. Ron had been planning to come anyway, to help with the store, so, of course, Hermione came too."

Ron came over, "Hi, Kira," he said, "listen, don't mind Percy. He's a huge git, but he eventually comes around in time. Sorry he was mean to you."

"Well, it was his birthday, and his bedroom," said Kira.

"There is absolutely no excuse for the way he treated you, Kira," said Ginny. "I'm sorry too. But you need to stand your ground with people like him. You can't let them run you off. Muggles don't have an easy tme of it in our world, Kira. You can't take everything some nasty git says to heart or you won't make it."

Kira smiled at Ginny, knowing that she was right. She needed to develop more of a backbone.

George came over and draped his arm over Kira's shoulders. "Why don't we all go upstairs? You can see what Kira has done with the flat. By the time she's done, Witch Weekly will want to devote their home and garden issue to it."

"I can't wait to see it," said Mrs. Weasley. "We brought you both a few things. After all, every bride deserves to get wedding gifts."

Mr. Weasley, Ron, and Harry each picked up baskets that had been stashed behind the trick candy counter. As they climbed the stairs, Kira wondered what was in them. They looked no larger than any small handbasket, yet the men were struggling as if they weighed a ton.

Once upstairs, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley sat on the sofa with Kira. George brought in the two kitchen chairs for Hermione and Ginny. He perched on the arm of the couch, next to Kira. Harry and Ron stood in the kitchen door.

"Oh," said Ron. "I left my trunk downstairs. I'll bring it up and unpack later, when we come back from dinner. Have you gotten around to cleaning out Fred's room for me, George?"

George inwardly cussed Ron. He didn't want his parents knowing that he and Kira slept in separate rooms. He'd forgotten that Ron had planned on moving in today. You'd think Ron would have figured that plans had changed with Kira's arrival. He was busy trying to come up with some excuse when he heard Kira speak.

"Oh," said Kira, "I'll have to get my things out of there."

Mr. and Mrs. Weasley exchanged a worried look.

"You're using Fred's room?" asked Mrs. Weasley.

"There wasn't enough room in George's closet, so I just stuffed my things in there. George's drawers and closet are such a mess, and I haven't had a chance to straighten things up in there yet."

George found it difficult to hide his smile of triumph. Without even trying, Kira had effectively been cornered into moving into his room. He had to hand it to her. She was honoring his request that his family believe that their marriage was a normal one, and she sure could think fast on her feet.

Mrs. Weasley visibly relaxed. "Oh, George, now that you're married, you really need to pay more attention to things like this. You have to stop being so messy."

"I know, Mum," he said. "I'm trying." He was now silently blessing Ron.

From the kitchen came the sound of the brand new tea kettle boiling. Kira got up to make tea for all of them. Mrs. Weasley followed her into the kitchen to help.

Mrs. Weasley saw the pile of squares Kira had cut from Fred's jumpers. She picked up the smallest, on top of the pile. "Fred's jumpers," she said, "why are they all cut up?"

"I'm piecing them together to make a quilt for the baby," Kira answered. "I'm sorry. I suppose I should have asked you first. George thought it was a good idea."

Mrs. Weasley smiled sadly. "It is a wonderful idea," she said. "Heaven knows, he seldom wore them. I see you're doing other projects too." She began to sort through the pile of material that lay neatly folded on the table.

"Yes, I made the little red gingham valance for the kitchen window last night; I hemmed it by hand. The sheer white is for the living room windows and the green jacquard poplin for the bedrooms and bathroom. I love to sew. I feel at peace when I'm sewing. My mother taught me when I was little. I made nearly everything I have, even this dress," she said, indicating the spring-green a-line dress she was wearing. She then told Mrs. Weasley about the job offer at the Muggle sewing supply store on Charring Cross Road. "I'll be able to get everything done so quickly using the sewing machines in the store."

"I had no idea you were so talented," said Mrs. Weasley. She glanced down at Kira's stomach. "I hope you don't mind my asking, but are you sure about your dates for the baby? It's just that you are already showing, and you're not even four months along yet. Fleur is just about as far along as you are yet she's not showing at all."

"Oh yes," said Kira, "I'm very sure."

"The only time I showed that early was when I was having the twins," she said. "I know it's none of my business, but have you seen a doctor yet?"

"No," Kira admitted. "I couldn't think of an excuse, and I was afraid my father would start asking questions. To be honest, I'm not looking forward to having those kind of examinations. I was reading books in the library, and they really seem horrible and embarrassing. Are you saying I could be having twins?"

"It's possible. They do tend to run in families. We have a hospital here in London, St. Mungo's. The healer who delivered all my children still works there. I could contact her and she'll even Apparate here to see you. She's very good, and completely understanding of a first-time mother's fears. And it's completely normal to be apprehensive the first time, you know."

"But I'm not a...you know."

"That won't matter. We all go about having babies the same way, you know. If, after meeting Healer Whitney, you feel more comfortable with a Muggle doctor, you can still go see one."

"I might go see one, just to get the ultrasound. I'd really like to have the picture. I could still have your Healer deliver the baby, or babies. Twins would be awfully cool."

"Ultrasound? What's an ultrasound?"

"Oh, it's a machine that uses sound waves to create an actual photo of the baby. If you're far enough along, they can even tell if it's a boy or girl."

"That's amazing. I had no idea the Muggles have managed to come up with such a thing. A picture of an unborn baby. Imagine that."

Mrs. Weasley floated the cups of tea into the parlor. Mr. Weasley placed one of the handbaskets on the low table that stood between the couch and the fireplace. It landed with a thud, as if it contained a hundred pound weight.

He removed the neat square of white linen that covered it. Give me a hand here, George," he said. George handed his cup of tea to Kira and bent over the table. He and his father reached into the basket and pulled out a rocking chair, a full sized rocking chair.

Kira nearly spilled the tea.

"We knew that George only had this sofa to sit on," said Mrs. Weasley, "and that you will need a rocking chair soon, and we had this one from Arthur's mother. Put in to the side of the fireplace, Arthur, right in front of the window. Try it out, Kira, dear. You'll not be able to get up off this old sofa in a few months, you know."

Kira set the two cups of tea in her hands on the table and walked over to the rocker. It was lovely; the arms were gracefully curved. On the back was a fancily scripted W. She sat down and placed her hands on the arms. "It's absolutely gorgeous," she said. "Thank you, I really love it. And I'm sure it's going to get a lot of use."

Ginny got up and took Kira's vacated spot on the couch next to her mother. Harry perched on the arm, next to her. Ron took his sister's vacated chair, moving it closer to Hermione.

Mrs. Weasley reached back into the basket and pulled out a radio, an old-fashioned, large, wooden radio.

Kira peered into the basket. "How does that work?"

"Oh, by magic," said Mr. Weasley. You'd usually need a wand to turn the radio on, but I attached a dial I got off an old Muggle radio, so you'll be able to turn it on too. Usually, you can only get the Wizard's Wireless, but I figured out a way to have it pick up a few Muggle stations too."

"She meant the basket, Arthur. It's wizard space, dear," said Mrs. Weasley. "We have a spell to make big things fit into small spaces."

"Oh, thank you," said Kira. She leaned forward and turned on the radio. Some woman was singing about a love potion gone bad. "She has a pretty voice."

She looked over at George as he groaned painfully, but he immediately pasted a benign smile on his face.

"That's Celestina Warbeck," said Mrs. Weasley, beaming at Kira. "She's my favorite singer."

They placed that basket on the floor, obviously much lighter now. From the next, they pulled jars of Mrs. Weasley's homemade pickles, jams and sauces plus a lovely assortment of fruit and vegetables.

Hermione and Harry hopped up and heaved the last basket up onto the table. "This is from Ginny, Harry, Ron and me," she said. She stood back as Ron got up and came over to the table. He and Harry reached into the basket and pulled out a bassinet. They placed it by Kira's rocking chair. Inside was an assortment of soft blankets, baby gowns, booties and tiny caps.

"We got everything in white, yellow, and green so it would work for a boy or girl," said Ginny.

Kira sat, looking at all of them. Then, suddenly she burst out crying. "I'm sorry," she said, "Thank you all so much. You've all been so nice to me."

"She does that a lot," said George. "It doesn't matter if she's happy or sad. She just does it. It's impossible to tell what'll set it off."

"George, you're an idiot," said Mrs. Weasley. "It's all right, dear, we understand. Everything used to set me to crying too when I was expecting, remember Arthur?"

"Oh yes, I remember," he said, passing Kira a handkerchief from his pocket. From his expression, you could tell it was not one of his fondest memories. "You may want to stock up on handkerchiefs, son."

"Thank you, Mr...er... I mean Dad," she said, taking the hankie and dabbing at her eyes.

"These are really pretty teacups, Kira," said Ron, remembering the chapter on compliments from Twelve Fail-Safe Ways to Charm Witches. "I really like the bit of detail on the rims."

George looked at the rim of his cup. He hadn't even noticed the delicate ring of tiny squares with a dot in the center of each before.

"Oh, thank you, Ron," Kira sniffled. "George liked it too. He picked out the dishes in the store yesterday. I was going to get the plain ones, but he said to get these when I asked which he liked better."

"Kira is making a quilt for the baby from all of Fred's old Jumpers," said Mrs. Weasley. "She loves to sew, you know. She even made that dress she's wearing."

"I think I'll embroider a monogram for the baby on all the baby things too," she said. "I...I mean, we're naming the baby after Fred. Fredi, with one D and ending in an I if it's a girl."

"Boy's seem to run in the Weasley family, Kira," said Mrs. Weasley. "Ginny here was the first girl born in generations. We were so sad that Arthur's parents had not lived to see her. His mother would have been thrilled. She'd always wanted a daughter."

"Well, I really don't care if I have a boy or girl," said Kira, "So long as he or she is healthy. Or they."

"I was mentioning to Kira in the kitchen that she is showing rather early. She may be having twins. She's agreed to have Healer Whitney come see her. I'll send off an owl to her as soon as I get home."

"That would be awesome," said George. "If it's twins, we could name the spare after me. Georgia if they're girls, of course."

"Whatever you want, George," said Kira, "so long as it's not Bozo."

"Bozo! That's an excellent name," said Ron.

"You'd have to find yourself a really stupid wife if you wanted to name your son Bozo," said Hermione, her voice a warning.

"Er...right...maybe not then," said Ron.

Soon, they all left for the Leaky Cauldron for dinner. Once more, the entire place fell silent as they saw the Muggle in their midst. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, however, ignored it.

"Tom," Mr. Weasley called out, "We're going to need a large table. We're celebrating the addition of our new daughter-in-law to the family."

Soon, they were sitting around a table, eating, and enjoying themselves. George stood and announced that he was buying a round of drinks for the house. "I want everyone to drink to the good health and happiness of my bride," he said.

By the end of the evening, everyone in the place had taken the time to make Kira's acquaintance and had wished her well.