She woke to the sound of pattering feet amidst the squeals of delight from children. She smiled at that thought, her children. The children she had raised, along with her husband. Her children who loved playing Quidditch in the garden with their father. Her children who loved to help her bake cookies when the time was right. Her children who would pile into bed with her and her husband when a storm broke out in the middle of the night. Her children who looked forward to bedtime just to hear the stories that their father told them of how he and their mother met so many years before.
A light thud on the bed made her open her eyes, when she did; she saw the grey eyes that matched her husbands on the face of her beloved son. Her beloved Nicolas named after he late father who had died when she herself had been her son's age. His silver blonde hair lay mussed up from the wind on the top of his head and his cheeks were rosy red from the winter cold.
"Mama! We fed the ducks!" he cried clambering over her to climb under the covers.
"Nicky!" a much deeper voice called from down the hall, "You best not have your shoes on while in that bed!"
The little boy gasped and jumped quickly down and pulled his Wellington boots off hurrying down the hall after the voice. She took this moment to relish in the warmth of the bed, savouring the last moment of peace before she had to get up and face the world. She must have fallen asleep again for the next time she woke up; it was to the feeling of a pair of lips resting on her forehead. She opened her eyes, this time to see the more mature, wiser storm coloured eyes of her husband.
"Fleur." He whispered in greeting against her temple. She smiled and moved her body so that she was resting now on her husband instead of on the pillows.
"How were zay?" She asked of her children, of whom she had only seen one of this morning.
"Fine, they are busy decorating pancakes for you, one each. You'll have to eat three."
"You'll help me." She stated as she heard her younger son call for their fathers help in the kitchen. He grinned at her, pecked her quickly and slid out from underneath her.
"Cedric!" She called after him, her French accent as strong as it had been ten years ago despite having lived in London for the past eight. He turned to her, the look of love beaming from one set of orbs to another, the same look that had been plastered on his features for almost ten years.
"I love you."
He smiled and Fleur turned over, content with the look he had given her and needed nothing more. She thought at times like these back to her past when she had met Cedric and how they had disliked each other strongly at the beginning, never to such and extent that they would call one another the 'enemy' but still held resentment. She thought of how the resentment had come to understanding throughout the first couple of months, he being the only one who ever really understood what she felt. The understanding turning into a strange companionship over the Christmas period when neither went home and they both stayed at Hogwarts eating meals and doing Christmas shopping together. The companionship turning into jealousy for the other's partner throughout the spring months. The jealousy turning into realization that they had fallen for the almost 'enemy'. The realization turning into acceptance that they would never be with one another and the realization turning into want as the year drew to a close. The want turning into need when their fellow champion Viktor Krum died at the hands of the most evil wizard known and finally the need turning into the comfort and love that both had craved for so long.
After that there was no slowing of the relationship, they courted for merely two months before engagement was proposed. She could remember lying in bed when they had just become engaged, talking of plans for their future together. Of the house they wanted in the country with a lot of land so that Cedric could teach the six children they were planning to have how to play Quidditch. Three down and three more to go. She smiled slightly as she thought 'well actually four down and two to go' placing her hand tenderly upon her stomach trying to comfort the life she knew was forming underneath it.
Her thought process was interrupted when three infants, two boys and a girl came bounding into the room with their father in tow carrying a tray.
"Viktor and Audra insisted that you eat them in bed." He explained to her sitting next to her and showing her the pancakes decorated with faces. Nicolas' she could tell was the one with a crown on. His five year olds mind had discovered a love for Middle Age muggle history. Audra's was the one with strawberry jam lips and white whipped cream hair to match her own and her mothers. The azure coloured frosting was meant for eyes also matching their own. Viktor's was rushed and unfinished, probably for helping his younger sister with hers. He was only two years older and yet acted as if she was still a baby. He looked up to Nicolas though as if he was Dumbledore himself. His hair matched his fathers but his eyes were Fleur's.
She dreamed of Nicolas becoming a Quidditch player, she could see it now. Even now, he was almost as good as Cedric, she could see all that being cancelled out however by a girl, a girl who he would fall in love with. A girl that would give Fleur her first grandchildren and her first heartbreak when he married her.
She could see Viktor becoming a healer, he was so kind and protective of his baby sister that she thought no other job at this time would be more fitting. He would always look out for Audra and probably even Nicolas too.
She had no idea what Audra was going to become for the girl was only two and still a toddler. She did know however that she was going to be as stubborn as hell when she grew up.
Her unborn she knew was going to be a girl too. She could just feel it, maternal instincts perhaps. Two boys and two girls, it fit. It fit everything about her life at that moment. It was perfect, just like her life, perfect. She lived in perfection.
CRASHFleur jolted awake still in the dream like state. The flash from outside made her wake up and realize that it was still raining and the storm had returned. She thought back to her dream and the pain clouded her heart once again as she realized that that was all it was, a dream and nothing more.
She lay back down and softly began to cry as she felt her heart break into 64 pieces. Each night since the last task her heart had been broken once again when she woke up. Now on the fifth night, each piece had been chopped in half. She heard the murmurs from the other girls, some in worry and concern for her, others in annoyance for waking them again even thought it had surely been the storm, which had done so.
She didn't fall asleep that night, afraid that if she did she would dream again and then wake, creating 128 different sectors to her heart. Having once again to realize that Cedric wasn't her husband and he never would be for he had died loving Cho and he had died not knowing her true feelings. Realizing that she would die loving Cedric if only to be with him the mere unreality of her dreams.
A/N – Okay I know a bit of a depressing Oneshot but it came to me when I received a review for Likely Images saying that I focused too much on their perfection, so I began to think of ways I could not do that and I came up with this. I am surprisingly halfway through the next chapter of Likely Images but have only received one review so far for the last chapter so please, please, please go and review.
Hope you all are well;
LJ
X x x