Above the wintry mist that rolled along the hillside, Bill Weasley stood tall against the horizon, his lean frame silhouetted by the winter sunset
Above the wintry mist that rolled along the hillside, Bill Weasley stood tall against the horizon, his lean frame silhouetted by the winter sunset. He remained there, hands in pockets, staring out at the night sky until the sun dipped further and the stars shone brightly above. It had been four years ago today that his fiancée, Fleur Delacour, had been killed during a skirmish with a group of Death Eaters. He missed her, but on his thirtieth birthday, he had resolved to move on—and he knew exactly with whom.
As if right on cue, arms encircled his waist, and he felt the immediate warmth of her body against his.
"This is a hard time of year for you," Hermione said quietly as she pressed her cheek to his back.
Bill turned around in her arms and held her close. "Thank you for supporting me, Hermione," he began, "but I'm all right. I would like to move forward. I need to move forward." He leant in and softly kissed her. "With you."
Hermione reached up and ran her fingers along his scarred face, never taking her eyes from his. "I want that, too," she said sincerely, "and I want you."
Bill pulled back just enough to see her clearly. "Are you sure you haven't taken a Confusing Concoction?" he asked with a teasing gleam in his eye.
Hermione lightly thumped him on the shoulder and then wrapped her arms tightly around his neck. "I'm as rational as I've ever been, William Weasley," she retorted matter-of-factly.
Bill cringed at the sound of his given name. "Now is not the time to start sounding like my mum."
She smiled at him and batted her eyes, joking, "I can't help it, but I think I'm falling in love with you."
His manner became serious. "I want you, too—more than you'll ever know," he whispered in a silky voice and then kissed her passionately. "Come home with me."
Hermione nodded her accord, and with that, Bill pulled her close and Disapparated.
Arriving in his sitting room, the couple immediately entangled themselves on the sofa, kissing and exploring one another ardently. Hermione withdrew, face flushed and eyes full of passion. "Are you sure?" she asked him as she moved a stray lock of hair and tucked it behind her ear.
Bill stood and waved his wand over his feet, removing his shoes. "Your turn." He winked and smiled down at her as he reached for his collar.
"Wait," Hermione said, blushing. "Please, let me do that." She kicked off her flats and then stood before him, appraising him with her eyes and hands as she moved in a slow circle around him—touching him lightly over his shoulders, back, and bum until she found herself facing him once again.
Hermione reached for his lapel, placing warm kisses on his neck and the vast expanse of flesh she uncovered with the undoing of each button. She slowly lowered herself before him until the last button was free. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath, stretched her arms upward, her fingers travelling over his stomach and chest, and then back down again to rest on his waistband.
Bill slid his hand through her hair and took hold. Looking hungrily at her lips, he said, "You have a beautiful mouth."
Hermione's mouth parted slightly, tongue darting out to lick her kiss-bruised lips. Opening her eyes, she expressed an eager desire for the man before her. "Make love with me," she demanded enthusiastically, and he pulled her up and into his arms in one sweeping motion.
"Yes, ma'am," he said and carried her toward the stairs to his bedroom.
Hermione awoke with the morning sun shining through a curtain-drawn window. She lazily felt behind her for the man with whom she had fallen asleep and was surprised to find him gone. She opened her eyes and surveyed her surroundings, searching for any sign of him. Her heart warmed as she spotted a note on the chest of drawers. Wrapping herself in the bed sheets, she moved swiftly to the table and stood on her tiptoes to read the note.
Good morning, love,
Freshen up and meet me in the sunroom off the kitchen.
Waiting for you,
Bill
Hermione squealed excitedly and went to ready herself. When she finished bathing, she dressed and crept quietly downstairs. Standing in the doorway to the kitchen, she gazed at the man she had made love with the night before. He was everything she had ever wanted in a man, lover, and friend.
"Quit staring at my backside and have a seat in the sunroom," Bill chuckled as he turned to hand her a cup of coffee.
Hermione wriggled her eyebrows as she accepted the proffered cup. "Thank you," she said and took a sip. "Mmm," she hummed, "just what I needed." Hermione looked past him and reached for a croissant.
"Not yet," he said as he moved between her and the food. "Go sit and relax, I'll be right there."
Hermione tried to see what he was hiding but gave up when he shooed her out of the kitchen.
Bill arrived shortly, carrying a tray with an assortment of fruit, cheese, meat, and sweets.
"Close your eyes," he said after they had each eaten all but a trivial amount of nibbles left on their plates.
"I don't know if you recall, but it's February. The holiday for …" he stammered somewhat with his explanation, "and I wanted to give you this."
Hermione opened her eyes and felt a shiver of happiness rush through her body. "Oh, Bill!" She jumped up and hugged him tightly. "It's gorgeous!"
He placed the new quill set on the table behind them and embraced her in return. "I thought you might need a new set."
"Do I ever," Hermione said appreciatively and lightly kissed him on the mouth. "Thank you."
Bill hugged her close, "That isn't all, but you can't have it until after you've finished breakfast," he added.
She smiled sweetly and teasingly took the last strawberry from her plate and savoured it. "I'm full."
Bill chuckled and kissed her forehead. "All right, all right."
"You do know that I don't require anything else. Right?" Hermione told him as she finished her strawberry. She then looked into his eyes. "You've made me happier than I ever thought I could truly be."
"I'm not doing this for you, Hermione." Bill smiled back at her. "This gift is purely a selfish one."
She drew away from him and looked quizzically at him. "Oh really?" she asked.
"Hermione, love, will you …" he began to ask as he stood before her and opened a large rectangular gift box.
Hermione looked anxiously at him and the package that he held.
"I meant go give this to you last night," Bill said as he raised the lid from the box, "but we got a bit distracted." He repositioned the tissue paper to reveal a beautiful burgundy negligee with silver strands of Acromantula silk skilfully sewn along the edges and thin shoulder straps.
"It's exquisite," Hermione admired as she ran her hands over the soft fabric. "May I?"
Bill nodded and Hermione withdrew the garment from its sachet. "I may not get to finish breakfast if you put that on, you know."
Hermione flashed him a sexy smile. "Meet me upstairs," she dared with a sparkle lighting her eyes. She turned and moved towards his bedroom.
"You're not going to make it all the way upstairs," he teased as he rose and chased after her.
Squealing as he grabbed playfully at her bum, Hermione escaped into the hallway before she was caught and pressed against the wall. She could feel his arousal pressed into her stomach.
"You're not going to have a chance to wear that either," he said, acknowledging the cloth still clutched in her hand.
Hermione's eyes grew dark with passion as she breathlessly challenged, "Promises, promises."
"Yes," Bill said as he leant in to devour her, "I do."