Disclaimer: I own nothing!

A/N: Another Weasley story...This one's not planned out at all. Hope you like it!

Nothing. It had been almost a year since Bill Weasley had felt anything, and there was nothing he could do about it.

It was unfair, really. Unfair to Victoire. She never asked for a broken father. Never asked for her mother to be taken from her during childbirth. Fleur had been so excited about their daughter, had bought a wardrobe of frilly dresses and small dress robes, had decorated the baby's room. However, after she had…died…Bill had turned most of the day-to-day care of his daughter over to his mother. The little girl looked too much like her mother; the Veela blood was strong, and her blond hair and light eyes stared intently at him, as if accusing him of her being motherless.

He couldn't stand those eyes; they looked too much like Fleur's. Therefore, he did what any other single father should do: work himself crazy day and some nights. Victoire stayed with her grandparents while he worked. He made no excuses as to why he was never home; his parents seemed to understand. If he couldn't be found at Gringotts or out in the field on a job, he was at Shell Cottage, wrapped in a blanket that smelled like Fleur. His werewolf senses still picked up her honeysuckle perfume, the scent he had first noticed about her, even before the attack that had enhanced his sense of smell.

He loved his daughter; he truly did. However, he just couldn't bring himself to feel that love, to enjoy the little girl, to bring her home and care for her like he should. Molly had tried to talk to him many times about his detachment from his only child, but he had just waved goodbye to his mother and father, kissed his daughter, and walked out the door.

Currently, however, Bill was lying naked in his bed, feeling the effects of the full moon outside. He hadn't been able stand the restraints of his clothes during a full moon since he had been attacked. Of course, hyper-sensitive senses and a taste for raw meat were two of the few side effects of his run-in with Greyback. He just preferred to forget about the other one or two.

Lying there, he thought about a conversation he had had with Charlie that morning at the cottage. His younger brother was the only one who could get more than a few words of greeting out of the eldest Weasley boy, and he used it to his advantage today.

"When are you going to let her go, Bill?" Charlie had asked, looking around Bill's home.

Bill's head had jerked up. "What the hell are you talking about, Charlie?"

"The fact that you've shut us all out for a fucking year. Or hey, maybe I'm talking about how your own daughter barely knows that you're her dad! You even know what her first word was?"

"I…uh…"

"You don't, do you? You've missed out on an entire year that you're not going to get back, and you don't care! You and Fleur fought for equality in this world; hell, you almost died for it! Now, you're letting your grief rule your everyday life!" Charlie's face was the infamous Weasley red by now, and Bill could tell that he was angry with his older brother.

"What do you want me to do Chas? No, I don't know what Victoire's first word was; I missed her first steps, her first smile…Mate, she just…she needs better than me! I…I'm afraid I'll just hurt her!"

Charlie stopped. "Hurt her?"

Bill nodded. "Do you know just how many times I had to heal Fleur while she was alive, Chas? When I love someone, the wolf in me does too. Wolves mate for life, and my passion for Fleur's Veela blood showed through more than it should have many times. I hurt her unintentionally too many times to count, and I've hurt many men for looking at her the wrong way. I've had to restrain myself from killing them."

"But…the attack wasn't that bad…Greyback…"

"Got me deep enough to make sure that I have wolf instincts and senses. You know my senses are hyperactive, and I'm protective over those I love. The fact that Fleur had Veela blood just enhanced that even more. I'm afraid that if I let myself love my daughter like I should, I'll be just as protective; as her father, I'm supposed to be protective. However, as a werewolf-crazed protective father, I'd be dangerous."

Charlie shook his head. "No, Bill. You can control yourself! You do love Tori, and you could never hurt her! I've seen you with her…when you allow yourself to touch her. You hold her like she's the most precious gift you've ever been given. Don't deny yourself that." Bill's younger brother stood to go. "By the way, her first word was 'Daddy.' Hermione Granger made sure of that when she was around."

Bill lay in bed that night and listened to the sounds flowing in from outside. Sounds of the ocean rushing up and washing away the sand on the beach. Sounds of seagulls flying around hunting food. He thought about what Charlie had told him that morning.

Hermione Granger had apparently taken up with his daughter, educating her about her father even when he wasn't worth the effort.

He sighed. He had to get back in his daughter's life. As much as he respected and loved his family, Hermione included, he couldn't leave his daughter's upbringing up to them any longer. She deserved a father, even if a mother was an impossibility. He drifted into a troubled sleep, vowing to take the next day off of work and go get his little girl.

Hermione Granger looked down at the little blonde girl in her arms, enjoying the way Victoire cuddled deeper into her embrace as Hermione rocked her back to sleep.

The smallest Weasley had taken an instant liking to Ron's ex-girlfriend, to the embarrassment of Hermione. She and Ron had broken up just a month before, two years after the end of the war. They had not begun dating immediately, as Hermione had gone back to Hogwarts to finish her NEWTS, and Ron had gone into auror training. Harry had surprised them all and had begun traveling the non-wizarding world, sending them both random gifts at all times of the year. Hermione had asked him about his decision when he had visited her at Hogwarts just before leaving. He had just shrugged.

"England is the only country where I'm the 'Boy-Who-Lived.' I want to be somewhere that doesn't know who I am for a while. You need to be your own person a while, as does Ron. Live your lives, and I'll do the same."

Hermione had looked at her best friend. "What about Ginny?"

"What about her? I broke up with her before seventh year, and we just never reconnected. I need a life away from the Weasleys, Hermione, as much as I love them. They've been great, but they're not truly my family, and I can't keep pretending." He hugged Hermione, whispering in her ear, "I love you, Hermione. I'll write; I promise."

"Love you too. Be careful."

"Always. You know I plan my every step." He gave her a goofy grin.

"Yeah, sure you do." Hermione slapped him on the arm.

"Ouch! Another thing: You're a brilliant woman; don't settle for anything less than what you want and deserve. That includes a certain friend of ours."

"Harry! Don't talk about Ronald like that!"

Harry shook his head. "I love Ron, but I just think you move too fast for him. Just think about it, okay?"

"Uncle Harry was right, wasn't he, Tori?" Hermione spoke to the sleeping girl. Ron hadn't wanted to believe that Hermione, just a year after finishing school, was already working directly for the director of her research department at St. Mungos. For all intents and purposes, Hermione was a healer, but she rarely saw patients. Her job was to research potions and their effects on humans. She also was continuously coming up with new potions, testing them whenever she had a chance.

Her director had heard great things about the young healer before she even left Hogwarts, and Healer Brianne Thompson had pulled many strings to get the "brightest witch of her generation" onto her team. She had been ecstatic to hear that she wanted to be a healer, and it could only help her program to have a third of the Golden Trio (the brilliant member, at that) in her research lab.

Hermione loved her job, and it showed. She flew through her training, and she was done in half the time as it took the other students. Thompson immediately recruited her, and Granger began presenting ideas the first day. The director knew she had not made a mistake.

Ron Weasley, however, was questioning Hermione constantly. They had begun their relationship just after Hermione's graduation, and for a while, it had worked wonderfully. Ron had taken it upon himself to gather a team of aurors to go to Australia to retrieve Hermione's parents while she was in school. He had improved in his spellwork enough to reverse the obliviation spell that Hermione had set upon her parents, and for that, she would be eternally grateful. Her parents had forgiven her, and they seemed to like Ron while she was dating him. However, her mother had seemed to see the same problem Harry had.

"Love, are you happy?" Hermione was at her parents' for dinner. She stopped drying the bowl and turned to look at her mother.

"Mum?"

"Well…you don't seem…happy. I can tell you love your job, and I know you love learning under Healer Thompson, but what about your relationship with Ron?"

Hermione looked determinedly at her Karen Granger. "Mum, my relationship with Ron has been wonderful for a year. He's a great guy and one of my best friends…"

"Is that why you're with him?" Karen countered her daughter.

"What?"

"You're comfortable with Ron; he's your best friend. Harry's gone; you're out of school. You no longer have an excuse to see Ron every day. However, if you're dating him, if you're in a relationship, you two will see each other on a regular basis. Is that why you're with him?"

Hermione was turning red. "Mum! Why are you making my relationship with Ron seem like...like a safety net?! You're saying if the situation had been different and Ron had left, I'd have been with Harry?"

"I'm saying you don't seem content…in love. Honey, you've dated the boy for a whole year; I'm not rushing your relationship, but shouldn't some sort of deeper feelings have developed by now? However, if he's there out of comfort, there's no hope for that. You've taken this as far as it'll go." Karen looked contrite to have to tell her daughter this.

"You're saying I don't love Ron?" Hermione was close to tears now.

"I'm asking you. Do you?"

"I…" Hermione struggled for a moment, then she broke down. "Mum…I don't know what I'm doing!" She reached across the sink with wet hands and felt her mother's similarly damp hands cling to her t-shirt.

Karen held to her daughter. "Why cling to this relationship if you're not happy?"

Hermione was a mess. "I…I just can't stand it, Mum. I thought I'd fall in love with him; I mean, we're best friends! That's the basis for a strong relationship, right? But lately, every little thing he does gets on my nerves! We annoy the hell out of each other, and there's nothing we can do about that. It's like Hogwarts all over again!"

"Why don't you talk this out with him? Surely he sees this?"

By the end of the night, Hermione had agreed to talk to Ron. Two nights later, the two had gone their separate ways. At least, they were no longer dating.

Hermione stared at the little girl in her lap who had stolen her heart and berated her father. Bill Weasley was not the man she told Victoire about at bedtime each night, but she could not, in her own conscious, weave bad stories about the child's father. She deserved to have good memories of her daddy; who knew: maybe one day he'd grow some bollocks and take care of his little girl.

"Still up, you two?" Hermione heard a whisper behind her. She smiled, knowing who it was.

"Ron, go to bed. You have to be at work early in the morning."

The redhead sat down on the window seat in Victoire's room. "Yeah, well…I've gone on fewer hours than this. I have to stop sleeping here; I never go home anymore."

"Same here. The Burrow just draws people here, doesn't it?"

Ron nodded. He then looked down at his niece. "Poor thing. Bill needs to let Fleur go and realize he has a little girl to look after."

"Yeah. Ron?"

"Yeah?"

"Go to bed."

Ron grinned. "Yes, Mum. Want her in bed?"

Hermione nodded. "Please." Ron picked the little girl up and placed her in her crib. The two walked to their rooms together: Ron to his and Hermione to Bill's old room.

Ron took Hermione's hand. "Sorry if I make it seem awkward around here."

"You don't, Ron. I shouldn't be here anyway. I just can't leave Victoire here pining after a man she doesn't even know when I'm the only one who can calm her."

"Maybe you should adopt her. Surely Bill would let you." Ron looked at his best friend.

Hermione chewed on her bottom lip. "Possibly. I'll have to think on that and talk to Bill. 'Night, Ron."

"'Night, Hermione."

The next morning, the family was eating breakfast when Bill stomped into the kitchen unannounced.

Molly stood quickly, waving her oldest son to the table. He just shook his head as he bent down to kiss her on the cheek.

His mother looked at him confusedly. "What do you need then, son?"

"I want my little girl. I've been out of her life long enough."