Sep. 9th, 2006

leplusbeau: (Bill and Fleur - back at you)
So many things had happened in such a short period of time.

When all hell broke loose on Bloody Sunday, Fleur's mother and little sister had been unable to contact anyone; for weeks, they hadn't even known anything had been any more wrong than before on the tiny Mediterranean island. (Fleur had said leave Paris; for once, her mother listened.) One of the local shop boys had mentioned in passing that something funny was happening "up North," and off the two had gone to visit with Fleur before sending little Gabrielle off to school.

(Her mother just thought Fleur passed out from the shock of being called fat. How was she to know she was dead for two months? It was summer! They were on holiday! There were drinks! Pool boys! No bathing suits required, no tan lines, comprendez-vous?)

The surprise over finding her mother and sister alive sent Fleur into an early and unexpected labour; fortunately Bill had at least set up the cribs in the nursery. After a long and seemingly endless night (where Bill really only felt like passing out the two times, at least by his count), they proudly welcomed Rose and Charlie Weasley into the world. The twins were beautiful: Rose had the softer female Weasley look about her and Charlie... well, he inherited his mother's slender pale build and exquisitely sculpted features. That much was clear from the start.

After much consideration, rejoicing, and reunion, Bill and Fleur made the decision to leave London. The memories of his brothers' deaths were too fresh; he couldn't be near Diagon Alley and he couldn't go to Milliways without remembering them. What was best was for him to lose himself in his work and that, of course, meant Egypt. Once the twins were old enough to travel -- about a month old, in fact -- the family moved back to Luxor. They'd always wanted to be an international family -- experienced citizens of the world -- and this was the perfect opportunity. Fleur, of course, was an instant celebrity there with her silvery hair and brash defiance of local clothing (or much of any clothing, in fact).

For Bill, this meant curse-breaking by day and parenting by night. He'd never been so happy as he was these days, with his wife and children there. And Fleur... well, she looked simply radiant. If Egypt didn't suit her, she rarely complained. From time to time she disappeared for an hour or an afternoon -- mostly with the children in tow -- but Bill understood. She'd always been like that and as far as he was concerned, a happy Fleur meant a happy family. Their family would never be what was considered strictly normal, but he'd never cared about that. So long as they were content (and they were), he didn't give a hang what anyone else thought.


Fleur was never very good at sticking to one place or one thing for very long. The exception to the rule had been Bill. And then she had popped out two perfect little bundles of weeping joy, and she discovered... she had more than one exception. It was a shock. And she and Bill fought, sometimes, in ways they never had before. They had two tiny little people to look out for, now. He didn't understand some of the things she did, and she didn't understand why he wanted to teach them certain ideas. It was another culture clash they had never considered before becoming parents, and it was hard. But then Bill would smile at her over the top of Charlie's head, or run his hands over her silvery hair, whispering terms of endearment in his horrible French, and that would make it all right again.

The nights took on a routine of their own. She would look over at Bill when he was mostly asleep on the couch with little Rose curled against his chest, and the realization that she loved them all was no longer such a shock. Hiking Charlie a little further up her shoulder, she would go tuck in their beautiful boy before reaching for equally priceless Rose; each of them needed their own alone time with Mama and Papa. Once the twins were settled, Fleur would curl up against Bill's side until the slight chill of the desert evening partnered with her soft melodic humming roused him. Inevitably when that happened, he'd flash her a quietly sleepy smile, put his arm round her, and carry her off to the four-poster bed in their own room.

Some things, after all, never changed.


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September 2006

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