August 1999
The weather wasn't any better than his mood was that day. Dismal clouds arched overhead, spread across the sky; their sheer grey dreariness preventing the slanting shafts of a persistent sun from piercing through. The viscid, humid, air hung heavily everywhere, and the occasional drops of rain that plopped from above and then stopped abruptly, did not help either. It was as if even the weather couldn't make up its mind whether to rain or not, which according to Bill Weasley, shouldn't be happening. Especially after the War.
He shook himself mentally, as he strode up High Street, swathed in an oversized travelling cloak, his wild, red, hair all over his face. There he was, thinking about the War again. Couldn't he just put it all behind him? Of course not. He knew the answer as well as the dried Billywig wings on display in the Apothecary opposite.
He smothered a sigh. He had other things to worry about, so why couldn't he just worry about them?
Like the stupid Chipping Clodbury riot, that was sending all the goblins in Gringotts into a frenzy, and affecting Bill's own association with the more well-mannered of their race? And the fact that though it was almost September, B.O.G members kept dropping in and trying to recruit the Gringotts Goblins.
Like the fact that he wanted a transfer to another country immediately -hopefully Egypt- because he wanted to get out there and be useful; but at the same time felt guilty for wanting to leave his family when they needed him most.
Like the fact that George had shut up Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes and said he'd never open it again.
Like the campaign Mum was on to get Charlie to move back into Britain, and the fact that though Bill knew he never could, was enlisted to help persuade him.
He paused outside Gringotts and tried to smile at the security goblins, who merely nodded and let him in. He stifled another sigh and made his way to his desk, amidst the usual crowd. Wizards and witches stood in queues, waiting to draw money or deposit precious stones or coins. Bill nodded to Gornuk who waved at him with a large emerald in one hand. Consoled that he had at least one friend, he sat down in his seat and pulled a large roll of parchment towards him. He was busy outlining another trip to newly unearthed buried temples in Greece, when three strange goblins sat themselves on the chairs by the walls that were reserved for people without appointments. They glanced at him in disdain and the tallest one sniffed disapprovingly. Bill ignored them and continued working.
Soon, they were jabbering away in Gobbledegook about goblin rights, the riot, and general wizardkind. Bill, who had picked up a smattering of Gobbledegook during his time in Egypt, pricked his ears and tried to listen without appearing to.
After a while, the conversation dwindled and died, and the three goblins, impatient with the sitting and waiting system of Gringotts for the appointment-less, got up and left. Bill, having finished his paperwork at the same time, leaned back in his chair and fell to thinking again.
If prejudice against wizardkind was going to raise to such towering heights, he may very well have to leave his desk job at Gringotts, and move to another country. He couldn't say he minded moving very much. Frankly, the desk job bored him, even though he never looked bored. He had only taken it up so that he could work closer to the Order. But now, after the War, the desk job wasn't necessary. And there wasn't exactly much a Curse-Breaker could do in London. Of course, he could always join the Office of Curses, Jinxes and Hexes in the Ministry. But he knew that it was not what he wanted.
Ever since fifth year, when McGonagall had given them different pamphlets on various Wizarding occupations, and given him only one, single pamphlet, he had known what he wanted to do after leaving Hogwarts. Even now, he could remember what the pamphlet had said, which had so caught his fancy.
"Are you seeking a challenging career involving travel, adventure and substantial danger-related treasure bonuses?", it had asked.
That's what he liked in his life: plenty of adventure, a bit of glamour and yes, danger too. That's why he went to Egypt, and not once since that day, did he regret it. So what was there now to stop him from returning to Egypt?
Several things, he realised. Firstly, Gringotts may not give him that option considering that vacancies in Egypt were very few. But that was easily solved. He could go elsewhere. Greece perhaps, or further down Africa. After all, adventure was what he wanted.
The second problem was Fleur's own opinions. She had finally grown comfortable with his family, and with England. Would it be fair to her, to ask her to move once again? Though of course, she liked challenge as well as he did, having participated in the Triwizard Tournament. Well, nothing ventured, nothing gained. He made up his mind to ask her, that night itself, if possible.
The third and final problem was Mum. After losing Fred, she wanted all her children as close to her as possible, and she wrote to Charlie everyday, pleading with him to consider working from England. His arguments that it was impossible to work with dragons in England always fell on deaf ears and in the end, it was up to him, Bill, to calm her down and to promise that he would write to Charlie. It pained him to watch Mum sit in front of the clock at mealtimes, while everyone else was eating, and stare at Charlie's hand, holding her breath when it moved from 'Work' to 'Traveling' and releasing it when his hand stopped at 'Home'. Though part of him thought she was being overprotective, a tiny voice urged him to think that he would not want her to do the same with him also. He decided he'd come to her last after asking Fleur and applying for a transfer.
Bill stood up and gathered the rolls of parchment in his arms. After depositing them at the front desk, he turned to the nearest fireplace.
Back in Shell Cottage, Bill stood up and dusted himself.
"Fleur?", he called, his eyes scanning their little living room. At this time of the day, Fleur would generally sit by the fire, in one of their cozy armchairs and write to her family in France, or knit, or read; or do any of the small everyday things that required her at most concentration. But today she was nowhere to be seen. He was just about to go upstairs and see if she was resting, or something, when the fire behind him began to hiss and cackle. He turned. It had turned green, and Fleur was stepping out of its flames, her face radiant as usual, but at the same time a little sad.
Bill eyed her worriedly. Where had she been that made her return looking so? Not that he was going to ask her. He never wanted to become one of those suspicious husbands who never trusted their own wives.
"Bill!", she exclaimed, when she noticed him standing there. "You are back so early? Ees somezing wrong?" She moved up to him and caught his arm anxiously. "You are not 'urt?"
"No, I am fine." he replied, helping her off with her wraps and shrugging out of his own. "I had nothing to do so I decided I'd just come home."
Fleur paused in hanging their overcoats on the two hooks by the fire and raised one eyebrow. Bill smiled despite himself. She could read him so well.
"We uh we need to talk, Fleur.", he said finally, and was surprised to see her nod.
"Yes, eet's time we did", she said, coming back to him and taking his arm.
"Well, what ees eet you want to ask me, Bill?", she asked once they had both settled comfortably on the brown couch.
"Fleur, I would like to return to Egypt, or if there aren't any vacancies, go to Greece or Rome." There, he thought. He had dropped the bombshell. What would she say now?
To his surprise, Fleur nodded again. "I was expecting this," she said, slipping her arm through his. "'Ave you applied yet?"
Bill shook his head. "I couldn't, without asking you. In case, you didn't feel like moving,"
Her eyes opened wide. "Did you even theenk, that I would not weesh to move, when you want to go?" Her lip began to tremble. "Did you theenk I would let you go without me?"
"No, no." Bill put his arm around her. "I was just wondering, if you'd like to move again. Since you took so long to adjust to England, I don't think it's fair on your part, to ask you to move again."
"Bill," she said, shrugging out of his embrace. "I am your wife now. Eef you go, I go." Her eyes met his, and held them, firmly. "Wherever." He nodded, and she smiled and put her head on his shoulder.
"But Mum?" he asked, after a while.
"She weel 'ave to be convinced," she replied.
"Bill," she said after a long, loving silence.
"Mmm?"
"I went wiz your Mum and Ginny to visit leetle Teddy and Mrs Tonks just now." Her fingers tightened around his. "'E ees such a friendly baby. I wish Remus and Tonks 'ad more time wiz 'im." Bill nodded slowly, uncertain to where it all was leading.
"And I theenk", she hesitated. "I theenk I want to 'ave a leetle baby of my own," She finished quietly, and looked up at him, her eyes shining with unshed tears. "Of our own."
Bill started. He hadn't expected this. Then a smile curved his lips. The idea was beginning to appeal to him. He could visualise a small child, with his recklessness and Fleur's beauty. A new Weasley; their parents' first grandchild; their child. He looked down at his wife, she was watching him anxiously.
"Well, yes. I think that's a brilliant idea." he said to her, smiling. She snuggled closer to him and he put both arms around her.
"At least, we won't have to convince Mum for this one," he joked, and she laughed shakily.
They sat like that for over an hour, her head tucked under his chin, sharing each other's warmth and not saying a word.
"This came for you," Fleur said, later in the day, as he sat on the floor by the fire, repairing their bedside table with magic. She handed him a letter.
"It's from Charlie!", he said, opening it. She sat on the couch and peered over his shoulder.
"Dear Billy Boy," he had written, getting straight to the point. "Tell Mum as nicely as you can that I will not be able to visit home this year ("That's nothing new," said Bill). They need me here as much as I can. With all the post-war unrest here in Romania, we should all be kissing Merlin's toenails that the dragons haven't escaped or died. Instead most are cursing the fact that they have all become all nervous and very particular about who's handling which dragon. As lucky me is a regular favourite here, I need to be on ever-present babysitting duty. Besides it's breeding season right now, and I'm in charge of 200 dragon eggs (double duty due to lack of staff), and cannot leave them now.
How are you and Fleur? Are you staying with the rest at The Burrow? Why don't you two take a break and visit me here in Romania? My quarters are much larger than what they were last time, Bill, and you two'd enjoy the little wizarding villages we have around our sanctuary. We have a huge French community here, by the way, Fleur, so you'd feel right at home."
Bill put the letter down and looked at Fleur. "What do you think?" he asked her.
Her eyes were shining. He smiled. "And I owe you a proper honeymoon. We couldn't have one with the war and all, but nothing's stopping us taking one now. What do you say?"
"Oh, Bill!" She grasped his forearm.
"Anyway to pacify Mum, you can tell her I am doing fine and will write as often as I can. I would send a picture but I don't want Mum to have a fit when she sees the burn on my face that I got from an overly excited Ukrainian Ironbelly last week. ("Oh no", cried Fleur.) My love to Dad and the rest of us Weasleys, and to Harry, Hermione, Mrs Tonks and Teddy. Oh yes, and to Muriel too (if I have to, that is). Tell Ginny that I expect regular letters from her now that she's finished school. And tell Hagrid, if you see him, that his Norberta's on her third litter now.
All my love to the belle Fleur, and whatever's remaining, to you Billy, my brother. (Bill snorted.)
Love, Charlie.
P.S. And tell Mum that I have NO intention of finding a nice girl and settling down, but between us, let me tell you that I've been thinking twice about this attractive, young dragon I'm currently in charge of. Too bad she's an expectant mother."
Bill was laughing as he folded the letter and handed it to Fleur. She also was smiling as he stood up and took her in his arms.
"Well, what do you say? Shall we drop in on Mum and Dad right away and break the news, and then take a Portkey to Romania in a couple of days?"
Fleur couldn't help laughing at her husband's eagerness, at him smiling down at her, all traces of worry gone with the arrival of Charlie's letter.
"Don't you theenk you must first write to Charlie and tell 'im we are coming and when?" she asked. "Eet might be a- what do you Eenglish call eet? Ah yes, a rude shock to 'im if we suddenly appear."
Bill laughed. "Yes, you're right, as always. I'll write to him right away." Letting go of her waist, he reached for a piece of parchment and a quill and began scribbling a hasty note to his brother.
"What about the transfer?", she asked suddenly. Bill looked up. "Oh that! I will apply right away, but Mum needn't know yet. She may not let us visit Charlie then, you know."
Fleur nodded, and left the room, while Bill tied the letter to their little grey owl.