Author's Note: I am becoming quite the prolific writer. At any rate, this takes place the Christmas of what would be Harry's seventh year. Half-Blood Prince spoilers, but nothing major. Thanks to mnemosyne23 for the twin idea!

There may be a second chapter to this; if not a chapter, definitely a sequel one-shot.

The Decoration of the Tree

"Bill!" Fleur giggled. "Stop teeckling me!" She slapped at his hands and put her hands on her hips. "We must get zis tree decorated. Eet ees December nineteenth." She glared at him playfully.

"You're right," he agreed. "This is a very serious matter. My hands will stay at my side."

"Except when zey are helping me decorate," Fleur added shrewdly.

Bill stuck his tongue out at her. "I like to decorate."

"Good." They pretend-glared at each other for a minute before dissolving into laughter. "Now, where are your decorations?" Fleur asked, looking around as though they might appear out of nowhere.

"Oh, um, actually, I don't have any," Bill replied sheepishly.

"You don't have any?" Fleur replied, shocked. "Quelle horreur! Why not?"

"Well, I was living in Egypt; there aren't many pine trees in Egypt. And then two years ago I stayed at Mum and Dad's, and last year we went to Mum and Dad's," Bill explained.

This was their first Christmas together, and they both could barely contain themselves with the sheer joy of it. Bill had promised Mrs Weasley that they'd be over Christmas Eve, and maybe Christmas Day afternoon, to give and open presents with the Weasleys, and they were going to Fleur's parents' house on Christmas Day evening, but Fleur had been adamant that Christmas Night be spent just the two of them.

Or rather, the four of them.

Bill reached out and rubbed Fleur's belly, still mostly flat. "I should have waited to tell you about zeese babies until Christmas," Fleur said, wistfully. "Eenstead I told you as soon as I knew."

Bill laughed. "Oh, I don't mind."

"Yes, but I 'ad to buy you a real present," Fleur sighed dramatically. "Now, back to ze important zings. 'Ow can we get some decorations?"

"Maybe Mum has some extras?"

"We could just go to Diagon Alley and get some zere," Fleur said. Her eyes lit up. "Our very own decorations, Bill!"

Bill grinned. "All right, let's go. But we walk, all right?"

"Walk? Whatever for?"

"Because-" Bill kissed her belly, "I don't want to put you through the Floo when you've got my heirs in there. And Apparating made you sick yesterday." He kissed her collarbone while she sighed.

"Vairy well. Very well. We shall walk."

"Plus, we'll get to see all the decorations on the way. Muggle London has some nice decorations, too." Bill knew that Christmas decorations were her weak spot.

"Oooh, I love all zis!" Fleur sang out happily. "Noël ees my favorite time of year! I am going to teach our babies all ze French carols..." She continued in this vein as she searched for her shoes and put on her best Christmas robes, a deep forest green.

Bill smiled adoringly at his wife (wife - it still was so incredible that she was his wife) and put on his own Muggle clothes. "Fleur, sweetheart, we're going through Muggle London - maybe you should dress like a Muggle."

"Oh, right!" Fleur changed out of her robes and put on a Christmas dress, instead. She continued to chatter about Chrismas, lapsing into French, and finishing up with, "I will show our babies how to decorate een ze French way, instead of zis English way. The English, they do not know how to properly celebrate, I 'ave always said this."

"You have always said a lot about the English," Bill said dryly.

Fleur smiled guiltily. "But eet is all true."

Bill shook his head and took her hand. "Let's go to Diagon Alley."

As they walked along the street, Fleur exclaiming over particularly pretty decorations ("Zey must be French!"), and Bill listening to her in amusement, they clasped hands and every once in awhile Fleur touched her hand to her very slightly rounded stomach. They finally reached Diagon Alley and stopped in all the Christmas shops, buying decorations like this was the last Christmas. Bill shrunk them all to fit in one bag, and they walked back home, quiet and contented.

Bill unloaded the tiny boxes from the bag, and restored them to their normal size. Fleur clapped her hands in delight and Bill chuckled at her enthusiasm.

As they hung ornaments on the tree with music from The Nutcracker playing in the background, Fleur hummed along and Bill watched her.

It was never any use to tell Fleur she was beautiful. Even when Bill said it, she laughed and refused to take him seriously. But what Bill could never get across to her was that she was beautiful because of who she was, not because of how she looked. Bill watched her slender hands tuck an ornament in just the right place, watched her lips curve upward in a soft smile. He remembered her flying into a temper when she got an owl from her sister talking about how mean the girls in her neighborhood were to her. Fleur had immediately coerced Bill into Apparating with her to her parents' house to talk to Gabrielle and cheer her up, and Fleur stopping to translate what was going on every few minutes, because after two sentences, they lapsed into rapid French.

Bill smiled and hung another ornament.

Before they knew it, the tree was decorated. Fleur stepped back and sighed in appreciation. "Magnifique," she sighed happily.

"Yes," Bill replied, looking at Fleur. She blushed.

"Stop zat."

"What?" Bill asked innocently. "I was admiring the tree. What were you thinking?"

Fleur stepped over the boxes and threw her arms around Bill's neck unexpectedly. She kissed his ear. Bill made a sound deep in his throat. "What's that for?"

"For being wonderful," she whispered, kissing his jaw. "For being my 'usband." Fleur kissed his neck. "For being ze fazzer of my children." Bill kissed her lips fiercely.

"Thank you," he said.

They stood there for a long time, loving each other. When they stopped, or at least, slowed down, Fleur rested her head against his chest. "Let's sit down," Bill said quietly, realizing how tired she was when she unconsciously put most of her weight on him. He sat back on the couch, and Fleur pushed him to where he was lying down and she on top of him. He stroked her hair and she planted soft kisses on his collarbone.

"When shall we tell your family about the babies?" Fleur asked.

"I was thinking Christmas Eve," Bill replied. "Would you rather tell them sooner?"

Fleur looked up at him in surprise. "I would 'ave thought you would."

Bill tightened his hold on her slightly. "I like having a little secret."

Fleur snuggled against him. "So do I."

She listened to his heart beat steadily. Fleur reached up and lightly traced his largest scar across his face. He looked back at her unblinkingly.

"Let's tell them Christmas Day," Fleur said softly. "At lunch."

"Okay."

"And then zat night, we can tell my family."

"Sounds like a plan," Bill smiled. He lowered his lips to hers again, and there they lay in the glow of the Christmas tree lights for some time.

Please review! I want to know what you think, good or bad.