So this is a one-shot I got the urge to write while struggling with a LL&D chapter, I wanted to play with something in first-person and settled into writing something with Fleur mainly because I've never really considered her that much before. The title is from the Billy Bragg song 'The Price I Pay' - I wouldn't say this is a songfic at all but it did influence the ending so...
As always, I don't own anything in the Harry Potter universe characters, settings, tablecloths... none of it.
Another note I'd like to make is that I haven't written the French accent in for multiple reasons but mainly because, aside from not knowing where to start, I always feel that writing in accents seems quite false - JK Rowling gets away with it but few else and if I were to write it in in this I'd have to do it Trainspotting style and it would be horrific.
"Bill! What on earth are you doing here? I didn't expect to see you?!" I called out across the desk, trying and failing to stop my hand involuntarily reaching up to my hair, searching for imperfections, checking it was right; whatever right was. I was not normally a self-conscious person, the kindness of genetics had blessed me with confidence and good looks, but Bill Weasley brought out a person in me who I didn't know, I didn't recognise her. She wasn't the blonde witch who stood confident in front of the mirror each morning, she wasn't the witch who'd gone up against a dragon months earlier and she certainly wasn't the witch who'd had wizards falling at her feet at the bat of an eyelid her whole life. This Fleur Delacour was a stranger to me, a stranger I was only just learning to accept and welcome into my life, head and heart because with her came Bill and if Bill Weasley wasn't worth it then who was?
In the beginning I'd scorned myself, I'd been angry and resentful, I'd hated myself and I'd hated Bill: he was making me doubt myself. It hadn't lasted long though, how could it? He came in with smiles dancing across his pale and freckled face, his eyes glimmered with laughter whenever he made a cocky remark that made me quirk a brow, it wasn't long until I realised he did it just so I'd raise a brow heavenwards and give him a look of derision. My English improved and with it came a new found sense of humour, it wasn't that I'd never had a sense of humour before, it'd just been more refined and dignified but as I got to know Bill and England it felt like I learnt how to laugh properly too.
When I was growing up I laughed, my father is a jolly man and he encouraged it, but there was always the emphasis on being a well brought up lady too, so as I grew I laughed with my father less and less until I became a haughty shell of the girl I'd been as a child. Beauxbatons had done little to cherish my inner-child, Madame Maxine always pressed that we should behave like ladies and we did so to please her, but as we pleased her and our parents we lost ourselves in the manners and etiquette and it was only now, with Bill Weasley, that I found my inner-child again and learnt what life was supposed to be.
So now, with his open face beaming across from me, in the middle of Gringotts Bank, I was suddenly nervous, because this was all new to me and uncertainty made me very uneasy.
"Fleur," he greeted me in the same happy way he always did and I cherished the sound of my name from his lips like a fool, "I'm not supposed to be in, no, but I came to ask you," he paused as if to muster strength, "would you come home with me, have dinner and meet my parents tonight?"
Oh.
I didn't know what to say, my heart was crying out 'yes' in a very unladylike manner but my heart was rarely to be trusted these days; my head was still processing the question, trying to determine whether I was ready to meet the formidable Molly Weasley who'd intimidated me before I'd even met Bill at the Triwizard Tournament not too many months before. Bill's face was falling, he was doubting himself now, I could see it in his eyes; I considered pretending I didn't understand, playing the 'Je ne parle pas Anglais' card but a stream of French curses came to mind when I saw his smile drop and I knew I'd have to go to dinner now. I couldn't refuse that face and I hoped he'd never realise it himself.
Bill offered me his arm with a smile that he probably intended to be reassuring but I found somewhat grim, I felt like I was about to take on the Welsh Green again, I'd have rather taken on the Welsh Green actually, I knew where I stood with a dragon. I gripped the arm tightly to me as we spun into Disapparation and Apparated on a country lane in rural England, Apparation and nerves weren't a healthy combination and I immediately felt a wave of nausea take me over, making me wary on my feet and cling to Bill tighter. He was unaware though and led me towards a gate and through to a yard that the old Fleur would have called 'quaint' with condescension but the new me saw it as idyllic, it was a part of Bill and I loved it for that, the chickens scratching in the dirt, the strange little gnome hiding behind a plant pot: they were all factions of Bill and his childhood – how couldn't I love it?
His hand held mine now and he lead me by it up the path and to a back door which he opened and pulled me through. My reluctance was in full-swing now, my head screaming that this was surely not a good idea and to get out while I was still alive; my heart was skipping rope in my chest and my breath hitched as Molly Weasley came before me, the infamous woman who I'd heard so much about from the beaming wizard who was speaking an introduction that I couldn't for the life of me hear. Mrs Weasley was looking at me expectantly now and I cringed, involuntarily letting my face show it, I hastily smiled but it was too late, doubt and hostility was already being birthed the witch's eyes and my heart sunk now, fearing that I'd ruined everything in my seconds of delay.
"Mrs Weasley, you have a lovely home, thank you so much for welcoming me." I said to her, hoping compliments would raise the woman's opinion of me but the damage had been done, at best I was now a snob in her eyes – possibly a polite one from my compliments, but a snob nonetheless.
Mr Weasley stepped forward now, gripping my hand and welcoming me, whatever aversion his wife had developed in my seconds of faltering clearly hadn't taken root in Bill's father and I was thankful for it as he now took my arm and led me to a prepared dining table. Bill pulled my chair out for me, he played the gentleman around me and I found it both endearing and amusing, he didn't need to and, from the look on his brother Percy's face, it wasn't a common occurrence but it was appreciated anyway. To me Bill's awkward manners were the assurance I needed that this wasn't effortless for him either, that he struggled with the person he was and the person he wanted to be in this relationship.
The meal was served, a roasted joint of meat with vegetables both roasted and boiled and I ate appreciatively, quenching the previous nausea with Molly's home cooked food. "Mrs Weasley," I was too nervous of addressing her by her first name in case she'd take it as another offense, "this food is lovely, thank you". I'd grown fond of English cooking in my months in the country, at Hogwarts I hadn't been too keen, it settled heavy in the stomach and was often carb heavy but as I spent more time with Bill my love of it, like so much else, had developed and I now knew when to appreciate good English food.
Molly smiled appreciatively and, as she murmured thanks, Bill dropped his hand briefly to squeeze my thigh, a sign of confidence from my boyfriend that I took assurance from, I was starting to earn his mother's approval, now I just needed to keep it up. "Mr Weasley, you and Percy both work at the Ministry, yes? That must be interesting? Do your departments ever interact?"
"Oh no," Percy started, "very rarely, I'm Junior Assistant to the Minister, you see. We have very little time for the Muggle Artefacts Office, they operate with the Department of Magical Law Enforcement primarily and any concerns that they raise are brought to us through them". Mr Weasley flushed slightly when his son finished and I recognised the colouring of his ears and neck as something Bill had inherited from his father; he seemed ready to correct his son but also smart enough not to raise the subject, content to let Percy and his apparent superiority complex be. Dinner continued with more smatterings of awkward conversation, sometimes Bill instigated it, sometimes his father but never Mrs Weasley or myself; any confidence I'd acquired from Mrs Weasley's earlier approval had been absorbed by Percy's dull arrogance and I floundered, very much unlike my old self, whenever I posed a question in my mind to put to the table.
"If you don't mind me saying, Fleur, your English has certainly improved, do you credit this to your roll at Gringotts? You must see an array of people come through the doors," Percy asked me as Molly magically gathered our plates and summoned a cheesecake from the sideboard, I couldn't understand why Percy Weasley always felt compelled to question people as if he were interrogating them for the Wizengamot and it certainly didn't help my nerves.
"Thank you Percy, Gringotts has helped, certainly, as has Bill," I chose to ignore the quiet little 'humph' noise that Molly made at this comment, "I find it very fascinating there, so many characters walk through with so many stories!" I tried to keep it light, hoping that Percy would maybe drop the subject, if it didn't seem dry enough for him to pursue it then maybe I'd get to sleep tonight. Truthfully, I didn't wholeheartedly enjoy the roll at Gringotts but I did enjoy the company, not only Bill's, I'd made friends there, friends that laughed and joked and giggled and did all the other sorts of things that witches my age were supposed to do; things that seemed improper at Beauxbatons, but I couldn't explain that to Percy and certainly not in front of Bill's parents.
We finished our cheesecake with appreciative noises and a content silence finally settled over the table, for the first time all evening I felt relaxed, not enough to be entirely comfortable, but relaxed enough to lighten up and enjoy the conversation and company more. We talked more, about Beauxbatons, France, Bill and his siblings and successfully avoided the Ministry topic and soon enough it was late in the evening, the dishes were done and Percy was yawning and assuring us that he simply must go to bed, else Fudge wouldn't be happy in the morning.
Bill went to fetch my coat for me then, leaving me with Molly and Arthur, I smiled tentatively and thanked them for welcoming me into their lovely home. I wasn't sure whether Molly believed my words, her doubts of me still lingered in her eyes and I was saddened that our first meeting hadn't gone better. I pulled her into a hug in an attempt to assure her of my sincerity, it was stiff, awkward and neither of us was sure when to pull away but I hoped it had expressed what I'd wanted it to: that I cared for her son, and by default her, and that I wanted her to like me. Bill returned with eyebrows raised at the awkward embrace and his mother smiled and pulled him into a much more relaxed hug, whispering something into his ear, I felt a wave of temporary jealousy and I wasn't sure who it was intended for. Was I jealous of Bill for having such a close relationship with the witch in front of me whose approval I so desperately craved? Or perhaps I was jealous of Molly's closeness to Bill, how effortless it was.
We held hands as we walked back down the path, Bill had told his parents he was going to Apparate me home, another example of his unnecessary, sweet chivalry that I secretly cherished as much as I admonished it. We turned into Disapparation and were soon faced with the door to my tiny, little London flat. Bill turned to me, holding both hands in his and pulled me closer into his chest so I had to raise my head to keep eye contact.
"Thank you for that, I know you were nervous, it meant a lot to me" he told me, smiling as he lowered his face to kiss my forehead.
"It's the price I pay, Bill," for loving you, I finished in my head but was content with leaning up onto my toes to plant a soft kiss on his ready lips; content to keep one secret to myself for just a little while longer.
The Price I Pay lyrics copyright Billy Bragg
I might continue this if I get any interest (both from readers and myself), reviews would be greatly appreciated either way.