He hadn't been there for six whole years, but Merlin, it felt exactly like it always did. The familiarity of it all, the warmth, the joy that would forever be linked to Hogwarts in his mind. The grounds he knew so well, the secret passageways he could still remember and all the stolen moments he'd lived hidden within them, the exciting buzz and never-ending chatter of the students as he walked through the Great Hall. Of course, when his Mum said she wanted to go support Harry for his final task, he was the first to offer to accompany her, even taking himself by surprise. It just never occurred to him, until that very moment, how much he actually missed this place, his second real home.
He noticed his Mum had the same light in her eyes, the one that told him she was reminiscing long lost days. She, too, must have held a special spot in her heart for the old school. A smile was playing at the corner of her lips and she almost looked girlish. In spite of all her bickering and disapproval of his ways, Bill was very fond of his mother and loved her deeply. Seeing her joyful made him happy as well.
"Oh, there's Harry," Mrs Weasley noticed, pointing towards a skinny teenager, with a mop of dark hair and a sullen face. Bill obediently followed his mother, privately thinking that what the boy really needed, more than a hug actually, was a ticket out of this competition. He shook his head and went by Harry's side, fondly patting him on the shoulder as older brothers usually do when reacquainted with their younger siblings. As the rest of his clan, Bill Weasley started thinking of Harry as part of the family, secretly agreeing with his brothers that he'd make a right match for Ginny. Not that they cared to share with her their little elder brotherly conversation, surely not; she'd hex them all into the next day if she ever found out. It was him, after all, that had taught her all the funny, wicked hexes, and he was wiser than to go around saying things that would upset his baby sister. Bill smirked and switched his attention back to the teenager in front of him.
"Apparently, all champions are accompanied by their parents and family today," Bill thought as he looked around. "The Diggorys, with Amos as obnoxious and loudmouthed as ever, and next to them, by their strong Vs, probably the Krums – huh, that's an interesting thought, even big Quidditch heroes need their mummy from time to time; and the last group is probably French, if my ears to do not deceive me. If they're one bit like that bloke I had to work with back in Egypt, then I'm not really keen on meeting them," he continued his musings, unconsciously combing his shoulder-length hair with his long, freckled fingers. Twisting the elastic band between his thumb and index finger, Bill tied his ginger locks back into his usual ponytail and patted the top of his head in search of any stray hairs.
A bizarre feeling interrupted his thoughts. He felt like he was being watched. All of a sudden, the atmosphere in the room started suffocating him, he couldn't breathe well and he had the impulse to swish his wand and bang all the windows open. Inspecting the room, he identified the source of the nuisance in the form of a pair of large, deep blue eyes, fixed on him with such a determination it took Bill by surprise. And beneath them, the most seductive little mouth he'd ever seen. They belonged to a girl, a woman almost, of such breathtaking beauty it nearly made him feel dizzy. Even as she was standing there, watching him intently from the other side of the room, Bill knew he'd never know anyone as graceful, as interesting as her. His fingers brushed over the fanged earring and it dangled, making her quirk an eyebrow and bite her lip ever so slightly. He noticed she had pearly white, even teeth, and full, red lips, which seemed to be made only to be worshiped and kissed. What he didn't notice, though, was his mother observing their private exchange with a critical eye, a humph and the crossing of her arms against her chest, an old sign of disapproval Molly Weasley had patented herself.
Even as they left the room, walking with Harry round the Hogwarts grounds, his mind stayed with the girl, wondering who she was, and where she came from; whether he'd ever get to see her again, or maybe get the chance to speak to her.
"Last to enter the maze is our charming champion, Miss Fleur Delacour of Beauxbatons Academy," Ludo Bagman's voice boomed from above the stadium. He was sitting next to Mrs Weasley, his brothers, Ginny and Hermione, cheering for Harry and silently praying he'll be just as lucky for the last task as he had been for the first two. They knew in their heart of hearts that nothing but sheer luck had protected the boy so far, coupled with pure Gryffindor wit and bravery.
"Fleur," he thought. "A graceful flower," Bill smirked slightly, amused by his own cheesiness, his gaze fixed on the back of her blonde head. "So she is French, then. Oh well, guess I'll have to work around that," he laughed, scratching the back of his neck. He heard his sister scoffing, but was too caught up in his own mind to try and mask his feelings – or even the red splash of colour than crept up his features, a curse each member of the Weasley clan had to bore.
As the time went by and the champions progressed within the maze, the Weasleys and Hermione tried to maintain a calm and comforting tone to their conversation. Each of them was waiting for the Tournament to finally be over, to know that Harry was once again safe and to be relieved of the strain they'd been feeling ever since the poor boy had been announced as fourth champion.
A scream and Bill's heart skipped a beat. He instinctively knew it was her, Fleur, that something might have happened to her. He wanted to jump off the bench he'd been sharing with the many members of his family and to run, no, fly to her side, see if she's alright.
"Seems like this was not a good day for Miss Delacour, but I'm being told that she is out of any serious harm," Bagman informed. It was the first time Bill had been grateful to hear him, and he sighed in relief.
"Good thing she didn't end up eaten by the Sphinx," George commented.
"Yeah, too pretty to be mangled, that one," Fred supplemented his twin's thought. "Uptight, though," he added, after thinking it through, eliciting a giggle out of Ginny. Bill felt slightly annoyed with his brothers, but decided to keep his mouth shut.
The time dragged by painfully slow, seconds turning into minutes and minutes into hours. If he concentrated hard enough, he was positive he could hear his own nerves cracking under the pressure that engulfed the whole stadium. Apparently, they'd found Viktor Krum knocked out in the heart of the maze, the Imperius curse cast on him, while Harry and the Diggory boy were still somewhere inside, fighting to secure the first place and a chance at eternal glory.
A lifetime passed before they appeared at the end of the maze, all smeared in blood, Harry shouting and Cedric looking so stiff. So cold. And that's when all hell broke loose. Bill couldn't quite remember much of what followed after, in the mayhem and daze that everyone drenched in. He could only recall walking after Albus Dumbledore, stepping inside the Hospital Wing and offering to be the one to carry the message. He'd left Hogwarts before he realized it, all thoughts of the girl who had controlled his mind earlier pushed aside. There was no time for anything else. The war had begun.
Still, he returned on the castle grounds at the break of dawn. This time, he had a message for the headmaster and his pledge to join the Order at the ready. He had to be part of it, he could no longer sit around and do nothing, while innocent lives were being taken away. He would no longer be the spectator on a bench, waiting for something to happen, witnessing the evil unfold without lifting his wand to try and make a difference. He wasn't quite sure what made him firmly set his mind on returning to England for good and fighting with the Order, he couldn't quite put his finger on it. It might have been the girl's scream inside the maze, or it might have been the strangely calm expression on Cedric's face, the last ounce of warmth leaving his body as his parents cried over his lifeless form. But, truth was, it didn't really matter to Bill. All he knew was that he was ready and nothing and no one could make him change his mind. He pulled his cloak tighter around his body, a shudder enveloping him in the chill of the first hours of the morning.
A drop of white caught his gaze, drawing his attention to the edge of the forest. His eyes widened, watching as a figure seemed to float about, emanating such a powerful aura that it almost beautified everything it laid upon. The figure, belonging to a young woman, appeared to be tending to a pair of spectacular horses, and Bill was positive he'd heard Hagrid describing the creatures in great detail over the summer. He understood who they must have belonged to, and, even more, who the woman had to be.
Without his notice, Bill's feet started taking him closer and closer to the young witch, walking faster than his mind could work to find the right words to say.
"Good morning," his mouth formed the greeting and he instantly wanted to dig a hole and hide. He'd never felt less cool.
"Ah," the woman nearly shrieked, turning around with her wand pointed towards his chest. Recognizing him, she hid her wand back within the folds of her white robes, and gave him half a smile that did not reach her eyes. Dark rings were painted underneath her mesmerizing blue orbs, but they did nothing to take away the beauty of her face. "You frightened me," she added, a heavy French accent laced between the syllables.
"Sorry," Bill sheepishly smiled and stretched out his hand. "Bill Weasley."
"Fleur Delacour, enchantée," she gracefully accepted his hand and delicately shook it. Her name was honey to Bill, the way she rolled each letter on her tongue stirring him and awakening his senses.
"I'm sorry for what happened to you yesterday," he found enough sense to stop staring and reply in a humanly fashion. "In the maze," he added, seeing the confused expression on her face.
"Oh, Viktor – it was not 'is fault. 'E was not 'imself, non?" Fleur shook her head, draping her hands around her tall, slender figure as if to protect herself. Secretly, Bill felt ready to declare his own self as the only one to protect her against all evil from now until eternity.
"The Imperius curse, yeah. I heard," he frowned. "I used to see its effects everyday, you know. Back in Egypt, I mean," he heard himself talking. "Er – I'm actually a curse breaker for Gringotts and, until yesterday, I was based in Egypt," Bill randomly continued, a hand through his long hair. Rita Skeeter might have had it right: I am a long-haired pillock if this is how I choose to charm a woman , he thought dejectedly.
"You used to?" she asked, a glint at the corner of her eye.
"Yeah, I reckon it's pretty safe to say that I used to," he nodded, trying to look as serious as he possibly could, parting his legs in a firm stance. Flexing his muscles a bit was also an option he considered.
"And what iz it that you are doing now?" Fleur inquired, flipping her silvery hair over her shoulder. Bill felt hypnotized, wanting to reach out and touch it, comb it, feel it beneath his fingertips.
"Probably take on a desk job at Gringotts, so I'll be here when it starts," he paused. "The war," he gravely pronounced the two words.
Fleur bit her lip, heavy lids falling over and hiding the blue of her eyes. She seemed genuinely sad, and it pained him to see her ache so - which was in itself crazy, because he'd barely met this girl. Get a grip , he mentally smacked himself.
"Fleur," a voice sounded from the carriage, an accent as heavy as hers. "Où es-tu?"
"I'll see you later, then," he took it as his cue to back away. The eldest Weasley brother turned around to leave before his mouth could open again and gibber away all the wrong things.
"See you," she replied softly. "Bill," her honey drenched voice echoed from behind him and it was something in the way she said it that made him want to come back running and prostrate himself at her feet, vowing to never leave again.
Instead, he straightened his posture and continued to walk towards the castle, towards Dumbledore, an important message for the Order on his lips. A war was about to be fought and he had to keep his focus. It was now or never.
thankyous and love and appreciation are being sent to littlerose13writes and megzfadingvoidangel on tumblr for their support and awesome beta-ing! 3
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