Order Only Private message to Tonks

[alt_charlie]

You know, I realised today while we were all at Grimmauld -- we're halfway through this! Barring disaster -- touch wood -- it's four more months to go until we get to meet the Bap. I can't wait to tell him everything I've been saving up. (Yes, this week I'm convinced he's a he. Told you.)

And then I thought, you know, you and I haven't talked about whether or not you want me at St M's when it's time, and I was going to ask, only when I thought of it you looked like you were having a good old time of it with Frank. Who I think knows -- at least, I think I remember telling Alice it was all right if she told him, but that whole day or so between Dumbledore talking to us and Beltane is still a bit of a blur -- but I didn't want to interrupt, and then you were having that talk with Jeremy, and -- well, anyway.

It's up to you, either way. I'd like to be there if it's possible, but I can think of half a dozen ways, easy, that it could cause trouble with our various cover stories. Especially if the poor kid winds up looking like a Weasley right out of the gate. I'm afraid you might wind up a bit of a scandal, Mrs Ponds!

Comments

[alt_charlie]

Oh, little things here and there. I was down at the Burrow a few weekends ago helping Mum harvest the apples, for instance, and I thought back to when I was young and Mum taught me how to recognise the apples that were ready for picking -- which made me think of when Bill and I would climb the trees to get the ones at the top, which made me think of all the times Dad would come out and see us climbing the trees, out onto the branches Mum kept telling us not to trust our weight to I mean, and how he'd shake his head and sigh but only cast a feather-fall charm on us both and let us keep going. Which made me think of all the things I'm going to let the Bap get away with, and how I want to promise him that I'll let him have as many adventures as he wants, he just has to listen to me when I tell him No to something for safety. That kind of thing. I've got a whole raft of promises saved up, and tonnes of stories about Dad to tell him. Even a few stories about Percy, the poor bastard.

(And I had a nice long talk with Sasha and Alex last week about safety-proofing around dragons -- Sasha made us all learn every charm in the book when the twins started walking, but I told her a friend was preggers and I'd probably wind up babysitting a lot, so could we go over it all again. She had a lot of useful tips.)

That was smart about telling Poppy, but oh, the looks you're going to get. And I'd love to be a fly on the wall when she lights into Dumbledore about the whole thing. (Was it just me, or was he looking particularly worn down today, and being more Dumbledoreish than usual? He cornered Snape for a nice long talk, did you see? They both looked dead grim. Well, more grim than Snape usually looks.)

And I'm glad you want me there, because I'd really like to be there. I still can't get over the fact that we made a person!

Oh -- and, I'm off shift on Tuesday this week. Think you can win free? The leaves up here are half turned and it's awfully beautiful. We could take a picnic and go wandering around the grounds of the castle. You look like you could use a bit of an adventure.

[alt_nymphadora]

I saw, yeah. I hope to steer clear of whatever they've got brewing. It doesn't look particularly pleasant. Given the choice, I'd rather get Poppy's looks any day.

And yes, oh yes, oh very much yes. Barring sudden shift changes, I ought to be able to carve some time. I've been going back and forth between the same three places every day for too long in a row, and it's been making me itchy.

[alt_nymphadora]

D'you know, you really are going to be fantastic at this father business. I can just tell.

[alt_charlie]

D'you really think so? That's a relief. Not that I was worried I'd be bad at it, not exactly, only ... well, we've talked about the middle of the night worries. And they're not real worries. It's not like I really think I'm going to turn out to be, oh, like Farty the Grouch would be as a father. But it's so queer to think that in another four months there'll be a tiny human in the world who's half me and half you, and I'll be a quarter of the people raising him and responsible for his everything.

I've been thinking lately about how much I miss Dad, and how much I'd like to talk to him about this. Ask him how he felt when Mum was pregnant with Bill and he was getting ready to be a father for the first time himself. I feel like he would have had so many useful things to tell me. I've already realised that I'm thinking back to how he was with us whenever I try to picture being a father.

But I reckon, the best thing to do is to just love the damn kid senseless, and work out everything from there. And I already do. Love him to bits, I mean. I'm so looking forward to meeting him.

And Tuesday it is, then.