Legal disclaimer: The following characters belong to J.K. Rowling, and this story derives from her original works, storylines, and world. Please do not sue me, I can barely pay tuition.

Warning: W-slur mention

Author's note: Since this is at least one year after the last time we hear Fleur speak in-text, I'm going to go ahead and run with the idea that her French accent (though not indicative of the quality of her English) has gotten lighter so that I don't have to write out the accent as intensely. I'm also going to go ahead and disclaim that I'm a native French speaker raised in a linguistic minority context; so while I love my language I am totally in my lane while pointing out how much of a mess it is. Also this is loosely based on my actual parents, so shout-out to them for making me.

House: Hufflepuff

Role: Player (Second Year)

Category: Round 3, Drabble

Prompt: [Character] Fleur Delacour

Word Count: 943

This is Not Versailles

Fleur was lying with her head on his lap, which was the perfect position for him to play with her hair. Then again, if she'd been leaning against him, he could have wrapped his arms around her and put his hands on the baby bump that was just starting to become visible. Or, if they'd been laying in bed an arm's length away from each other, he could be reaching over and tracing circles against her stomach lazily. There was no bad option, really, for where to be as she told him all about how emmerdant one of the Goblins in her department was being.

"You forget the word for bronze once and say copper –once— and suddenly you are branded an idiot for life," Fleur said. "Never mind that I speak six other languages better than 'e ever will. Including Gobbledegook! Imagine how badly 'e would be treating me if I didn't speak it…"

"I know you know not to let it get to you, but don't," Bill said. "The Goblins have been especially sensitive since the war, though you can't blame them. They shouldn't be taking out on you, but…"

"As your mother would say, 'the worrying is not good for the baby,'" she said in a rather good imitation of Mum, who could never know how hard Bill laughed.

"Anyway, this is just convincing me even more that the baby will 'ave to be multilingual," Fleur said. "We will 'ave to teach it everything when it is still young. Of course, after French we will 'ave to teach English, for your family…"

"After French?" Bill asked. Fleur looked up at him and blinked.

"Well, French will be its first language," Fleur said simply.

"Right," Bill said.

"Did you not expect..?"

"I hadn't thought it through," Bill said quickly. "It's fine, just…"

"I told you before : le français s'apprend, l'anglais s'attrape." She smiled, noting the look of confusion on Bill's face. "Judging by how confused you were by those words, I think it is safe to say that you will 'ave to learn a bit quicker, my dear."

"I suppose I will," Bill said. Suddenly, lazing around the house was no longer relaxing. He should be… he should be in a library. He should be learning about participe passé or whatever verb tenses the French used. Merlin, he was going to have to learn what gender different objects were. That's right, chairs were going to have genders in his head now. What a mess that was. But it was going to have to be Bill's mess, apparently.

He panicked at the mere thought of it. Once, he hadn't turned off a light and Monsieur Delacour had told him that "this wasn't Versailles." Bill still had no idea what that meant. Another time, he'd been teasing Gabrielle with some outlandish lie and she'd told him that her ass wasn't chicken and nobody else had thought that that was a weird thing to say. How was he going to learn this godforsaken language where if you said 'girl' wrong you accidentally called someone a whore?

"Bill?" Fleur asked, sitting up.

"I'm fine. Just now realizing the downside of having such a pretty French teacher," Bill said, taking his hand. "I think I've been... distracted… Haven't really been learning my verbs, so much as…"

"Putting some of them into practice?" Fleur smiled.

"You could have made me conjugate any other verb that night…" Bill defended.

"And I picked embrasser," Fleur said, leaning in to kiss him. "Which you already knew very well, but became quite proficient in."

"French kissing is close enough to the French language, right?" Bill grinned.

"I believe l'Académie would disagree, but I will consider it a very good foundation for learning the rest. Which you 'ave about 26 weeks to do."

"No pressure," Bill said.

"Well, a little bit of pressure," Fleur said. "My child will either 'ave a papa or no father at all. This is important to me."

"Oh, I know."

"And I get what I want," Fleur said.

"Oh, I know."

"Historically that 'as worked in your favour, but I would recommend you… 'it the books," Fleur said.

Bill smiled. She'd picked up that particular idiom from Ron, having interrupted a full-on, three-way fight between him, Hermione and Harry about whether or not they should all go back to finish seventh year to ask for its meaning. It had been extremely blunt, but also extremely efficient as far as de-escalating tension went—and learning, apparently.

"I maybe should 'ave warned you earlier," Fleur admitted. "You were probably not expecting this."

"I wasn't expecting anything much when I chatted up this blonde girl in the Hogwarts infirmary. I wasn't expecting her to speak Gobbledegook, be so good at maths, have such a sharp sense of humour, know how to wiggle her ears, be so fierce, emerge from a war's bloodiest Battle with the most confirmed, registered hits… I just think I'll need to spend more time with your mother, that's all," Bill concluded. "Maybe Gabrielle will help…"

"They would love that," Fleur said.

"Elles su-rray tray con-tan-te," Bill sounded out.

"Mais c'est très bien, Monsieur Weasley!" She said leaning in to kiss him, always his favourite part of French lessons.

Bill smiled, and she leaned against him—which meant that yes, he finally got to prop his chin on her shoulder, wrap his arms around her, and put his hands on the baby bump. And in that moment, he was sure that there was no possible downside to hitting the books. If he was really going to learn the language of love, he felt like he was already halfway there.

MC4A Spring Bingo

Space Address (Prompt): 2B (Love)

Word Count: 943