A/N: Hey, y'all! This was written for the Hogwarts Eastern Funfair for the Ferris Wheel. My prompt: (color) seafoam green
Word Count: 1048
Thanks to my sister for beta'ing!
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. Those rights go to JK Rowling.
Enjoy!
Bill Weasley smiled as he watched the four kids splash around in the seafoam green waves. Only three of them were his— Victoire, Dominique, and Louis. Teddy was the orphaned son of two of Bill's old Order friends. He'd been adopted by the Weasley clan, and Bill had always had a soft spot for him. So, naturally, they'd invited Teddy along on their holiday to France.
The young metamorphmagus was getting a little frustrated as he tried to teach Victoire, who was two years his junior, how to build a proper sandcastle. His face was patient, but his hair was growing red, a telltale sign of his annoyance. The six-year-old bent bent back down and and filled the bucket once more with wet sand. He then flipped it over and slowly lifted it up, revealing a cylindrical tower. Victoire laughed delightedly as she stuck bits of broken shells into the tiny castle, and Teddy watched, satisfied.
Bill's gaze roamed to the left, where his two-year-old daughter, Dominique, was splashing around with one-year-old Louis and their mother, Fleur. Bill couldn't help but smile. It had taken a while for Fleur to get into the groove of being a mother, but now that she had the hang of it, she was enjoying it immensely. Bill himself quite liked being a father.
He ran a hand through his long red hair, a finger brushing briefly against a raised scar left over from his run-in with Greyback seven years prior. Bill had never been disgusted by his scars, though it had felt a bit like he was seeing someone else's face in the mirror for a while. Fleur hadn't cared, and Bill's parents had grieved his injury more than his tarnished looks. The hardest thing to get used to was how others stared. When you have this many scars on your face, you turn heads. Still, Bill had had no idea how rude people could be until he was on the receiving end of it. He been gawked and pointed at, and once he'd seen an older couple cross the street to avoid him.
His kids, though, were used to seeing him like this, and had never hesitated to kiss him on the cheek. His nieces and nephews didn't mind them either. Teddy had even told him once that they made him look like his father. And reminding Teddy of Remus was not something Bill was ashamed of.
But then, thinking of Remus always led to memories of the war. And those always led to Fred. Losing his little brother had been… harder than fighting the war itself. He still remembered the blatant disbelief, and the horrible numbness he had felt as he stared at the unmoving body that had once been his brother. He hadn't cried. His mind hadn't yet processed the truth of the situation; Fred was dead, and wouldn't be coming back. At the time, it had seemed impossible that he'd never hear his brother laugh again.
Now, he had grown used to the silence.
Fred Would never be lost to him, Bill knew that. It just hurt to realize that as many stories as Bill would tell his kids of wacky, brave Uncle Fred, they would never look up to him the way they did Uncle George or Uncle Harry.
But Fred was still, somehow, present in his life. He was the voice reminding him to cherish the laughter of his daughters and son, to hold on to small joys, to never take for granted a single moment he shared with his little family.
Family was a thing to be protected and held dear. None of the Weasley children (or their spouses) had argued about having a family dinner at the Burrow once a month. The Weasley grandchildren loved family dinner night– they got to see all their cousins, eat delicious food, and the garden always needed de-gnoming.
If Bill was being honest, Remus' reaction to Teddy's birth had played a major role in his decision to have children. As a curse-breaker he traveled a lot, and hadn't been sure about whether he wanted to put his family through that. But when he thought about Remus' utter joy as he had been announcing his son's birth, he felt a strong need to feel that same happiness. Bill wanted to feel the unadulterated love and awe that came from bringing into the world a life that was half him and half the love of his life. He hadn't regretted his decision.
Bill watched his family a few minutes more. Fred would be proud, he knew.
The sun beat down on him as he made his way over to the rest of his family. He ran over to Teddy and a Victoire and scooped them both up in his arms with an almighty roar, ignoring their shrieks of laughter. He carried them over to Fleur and the two youngest, splashing through the green waves. The salty water was cold against his bare legs, and he shivered slightly as he dropped the two kids into the water. They squealed as they fell, and Fleur laughed while she struggled to keep her hair dry.
The family of six spent the next couple of hours playing in the water, until finally, Louis and Dominique began to get worn out. The Weasley family packed up their things and trudged to the car. Bill was holding both Louis and Dominique, and Fleur was carrying Victoire; Teddy had insisted that he could walk by himself. Bill and Fleur loaded the kids into the car (they had opted for Muggle travel), then climbed in themselves and began to drive home.
They had to turn around a few minutes later because Bill had forgotten Louis' shoes.
The sun set slowly as they pulled away from the beach. Bill cast one more look over his shoulder at the seafoam green sea, then grabbed his wife's hand tightly.
"We should do that again soon," he murmured softly.
She nodded sleepily, her long blonde hair plastered to her for head. She curled up in the passenger seat, keeping their hands in entwined. She looked so much like their two daughters.
Bill gazed at the horizon as he drove, a small smile on his face. Somewhere, Fred was smiling down on them.
