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[leplusbeau]

Fleur is sitting on the floor of their flat, holding a broken picture frame. The glass is broken, but their wedding picture, Bill twirling her about on top of that fake Eiffel Tower in Las Vegas, is still mostly in tact.

She can't say the same for their couch.

Most things are slashed, broken, shredded. Only one of her mother's paintings survived, and that's because Fleur had it under their bed because she had not found the right place to hang it.

At least nothing is burned. She just. No, she can't think of that right now.

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[thecoolone]

Squatting next to her, one hand on her shoulder, Bill surveys the damage. "Imagine if we'd been here, love. We left not a moment too soon." Though luck might or might not have anything to do with it, he won't negate it by pushing it aside; he's always thought that most everything happens for a reason.

Those three owls in quick succession happened for a reason.

His trip to Alexandria with Albus happened for a reason.

The fight at Hogwarts happened for a reason.

He's not so certain about Fleur's family's disappearance or the death of his brothers, though. He's tried to be strong for his family, but privately, he's torn. Things will never, ever be the same; his world has lost two vibrant and funny and smart and loving and mischievous and kind people.

Two of his brothers are dead. They're gone forever, and he's got no idea about Lurline and Gabrielle. He's devastated, but he has to be strong. He has to be that way for Fleur and really, he has to be that way for himself. It's only in the dark of night when Fleur is sound, sound asleep that he lets himself cry.

Picking up a large shard of glass, he puts it on the table he just righted. There are easier ways to do this, but this is the necessary way: one small piece at a time.

[leplusbeau]

She doesn't really bother with all that. She lasted through a battle, damnit. Being strong only lasts for so long.

Her mother and sister are dead like her father, friends are hurt, her husband is hurt, and someone has killed her couch. The first thing she ever bought with her own money and picked out and was all hers and hers alone, and it's so stupid that she is starting to cry again. It's just a couch.

So she rubs at her eyes and pretends to fix the picture frame.

[thecoolone]

Bill knows better than to ask questions: everyone grieves a loss in their own way. It's just... he doesn't know what to do. He doesn't know if he should hold Fleur or back off. He doesn't know if he should put things right here magically or not. He doesn't know if he should be out looking for incontrovertible truth that her family is gone, like she seems to believe, or just let it go.

So instead he runs a finger across their wedding picture. There's a knife slash through it, between the two of them.

"I'd like to fix that."

He needs to do something.

[leplusbeau]

She looks up at him. Shocked, really. For just a moment, she forgot he was here.

"Oh, Bill." She forgets about the picture and grabs him, throwing her arms around his neck. "If it had been you..."

Because she would have moved on, one day, if had been, and that's terrifying. Because she loves him, but she knows she would have and could have. Even though she only wants to grow old with him. And it makes her cry a little harder.

"Iz all so stupid. So stupid."

[thecoolone]

"It wasn't my time."

That's about all he has to say about that. But privately he agrees: the whole thing is stupid, and it's pointless, and he's glad Voldemort's gone.

He's very glad.

But it doesn't mean he isn't sorry that so many innocents went with him. Standing, he reaches for Fleur's hand: they've not yet looked into the room that was to be the nursery. While it's true they didn't have much in the way of baby things, there were a pair of cribs, still in boxes, stacked carefully against the wall: he feels a sudden need to look for those.

Whether or not Fleur wants to or is ready to go doesn't matter: he's taking her. He's not letting her leave his side; they move through the flat into the second bedroom.

"Lumos. Oh... look."

Despite it all, he smiles so very softly: both boxes are miraculously intact.

"Look, love. The cribs. They're all right."

It's a small, small victory, but its size doesn't mean it's any less critical. Tears rim his eyes and he holds Fleur tight.

[leplusbeau]

"Oui." And she is smiling a tiny bit because good. She can get a new couch that is more child friendly. And the room is mostly intact. Only a little repair work on the animal wallpaper.

Fleur tips Bill head back toward her, knocking her forehead against his. "Oui.</small" She repeats.

[thecoolone]

It's the first smile he's seen on her face in weeks. "Oui, Fleur."

Life goes on, no matter what people do or don't do. No matter who dies or who lives, life goes on.

"Let's get this room cleaned up first, love. Right now."

New lives on the way: it seems the place to start.