Author's Note: I would like to thank slenderpanda597 for beta-ing this story for me.

None of the characters or settings are mine. They belong to JK Rowling.

Awkward Encounters

Mid April 2000

Ron leaned against the bar and ordered two butterbeers to take back to the table for him and Harry. The others hadn't shown up yet. Somehow or another all of his brothers and a fair number of their friends had managed to convince the witches in their lives to sanction a wizards' night out. What with George's (and Fred's) birthday just past, Ron's coming up, Percy's recent wedding, Bill's baby due soon, and May 2 looming in the near future, it rather seemed now or never.

"Hm, red hair, freckles, natty jumper…you must be a Weasley."

Ron looked at the woman who had just sidled up to the bar next to him. She was older than him, but pretty.

"Which one are you?" she asked.

Ron quirked a smile. He was often recognized these days and not too many people didn't know exactly who he was. His brothers had managed to slip back into anonymity after the war, except George, the face of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. But Ron, being friends with Harry and helping to bring down Voldemort, had become a bit of a celebrity, the same as Hermione and Neville. Although, he enjoyed it more than they did.

"I'm Ron," he said.

"Which makes you brother number…"

"Six," he laughed.

"Ah. I dated your eldest brother back at Hogwarts."

Ron looked at her strangely. Something about this exchange seemed off.

"I'll give him your regards," he said. The bartender brought his butterbeers and he was anxious to make his escape.

"Is he still in Egypt?"

One eyebrow rose. "You haven't been in England in some time, huh?"

She laughed. "Is it obvious? I was in America when You-Know-Who fought that battle at the Ministry and I thought it prudent to stay put. I returned a few months ago."

Ron couldn't imagine Bill with this woman, though she did have an incredible body.

"Yeah, Bill was back before that actually," Ron answered, then added knowingly, "He's married now."

"Hey, look at this!"

Ron felt a heavy hand on his shoulder. It was Charlie.

"Baby brother has thoughtfully got us drinks already!" he laughed, nicking one of the bottles and taking a swig.

"Oi!" cried Ron. "That was Harry's."

"And this one must be mine," said Bill with a smirk, taking the other bottle.

"Bloody, big prats," Ron grumbled.

"Oh, sweet Merlin, what happened to your face?"

Bill stopped mid-swig, his expressive eyes shuttering. Ron cursed under his breath. He'd forgotten about the witch, Bill's ex-girlfriend. He should have warned her. He should have warned Bill. Five angry scars raked across Bill's face, thanks to a run in with an untransformed werewolf during the war. And those were just the obvious scars.

Ron had never known Bill to be uncomfortable about his injuries, he was as easy going as ever. But Ron wasn't dumb enough to believe that Bill was not completely unaffected, especially in moments like these.

Bill looked to the witch. "Teresa Castle? I-I haven't seen you since…"

Charlie put a hand on Bill's shoulder, his face like thunder. "Graduation."

Charlie had a tendency to take these things more personally than Bill did. Ron had always wondered if his oldest brothers had some sort of secret pact: Bill remained level headed and worked out a solution to any given problem. Charlie, on the other hand, got to react emotionally on both their behalves and yelled or punched a wall or something equally dramatic.

"Bill," the witch stammered, "I-I-I didn't know…I didn't mean…Merlin, your face."

"Bill's a war hero, Teresa," Charlie snapped, he gestured to Bill's face. "Can't you see that?"

"Enough, Charlie," Bill said quietly. "Ron, you take Charlie to the table. Tell everyone the first round is on me."

Ron pulled Charlie away. "Hey, mate, that was intense."

"I always hated that witch," Charlie growled.

"I think you embarrassed Bill…and her."

Charlie looked sheepish. "Did I? Shit."

oOo

Bill looked at his old girlfriend. They'd been together a good part of his seventh year. Mostly they'd shagged in every broom closet in the castle. They were not one another's first, but she was his first girlfriend to put out. They'd had a big row in the end, when he'd told her that he was leaving for Egypt. He never understood why, it had always been obvious to him that they would go separate ways when school ended.

"I'm sorry," she was saying. "It's just a-a shock. And you were so handsome."

"Don't worry about it," he said.

Bill found that he was often putting people at ease after careless words. A part of him screamed at the unfairness of it all. Why should he be the one to sooth another's feelings when he'd never truly grown accustomed to the stares and insensitive remarks. Still there was no sense in being surly, he supposed.

"And at least you only ran afoul of Charlie," he added with an awkward attempt at humor, "and not my wife. Believe me, you got off easy."

"Your brother told me you were married."

Bill smiled properly now, his eyes sparking with joy. "Yeah, we're going to have a baby in a few weeks."

"Oh. Congratulations."

"Cheers. So, how about you?"

"I've been in the States for a number of years now. Just got back. I suppose that I was hoping to renew some old connections. When you left for Egypt, I figured that you weren't the type to get married and have a baby."

"Yeah? Well, we didn't spend a lot of time getting to know each other," Bill said a bit harshly.

He was growing wary of this conversation. This was supposed to be a night of celebration, but it wasn't getting off to a great start so far. He was rather glad that Fleur wasn't here. She had a tendency to be fierce in moments like this and the pregnancy made her more volatile than usual.

"And a war hero?" Teresa asked.

Bill felt a blush creep up his neck. "Charlie overstated it."

"Did you know Harry Potter?"

Bill guffawed now. "You really are out of the loop. Yeah, I know Harry Potter. He's going to ask my baby sister to marry him any day now, I would imagine."

The bartender levitated five pitchers of butterbeer to him.

"Listen, Teresa, it's been nice talking to you. I hope you find whatever it is you're looking for. No hard feelings."

With that he took his pitchers to the tables his brothers were occupying. Percy and Oliver Wood were looking at pictures of Oliver's nephew and little boy. George had an arm around Ron, taking the mickey much to Harry's amusement. Charlie was swigging his butterbeer, watching the proceedings with a smile. He could see Lee Jordan and Neville Longbottom coming from the direction of the loo. He tried not to think about the people who should have been there but were not…

oOo

It was late when Bill returned to Shell Cottage. He took his boots off at the door, swaying dangerously but avoiding landing on his arse. Maybe he was as pissed as his brothers had claimed. Not that any of them were in any better shape. He snickered as he pictured Ron and Harry stumbling down Diagon Alley singing the Gryffindor fight song. Those boys could not hold their liquor.

But at least they didn't weep all over him like Charlie, the bleeding girl.

As quietly as possible, he made his way upstairs in the dark. He found Fleur crossing the room when he got to the bedroom.

"What are you doing up?" he asked.

"I was in zee loo…again," she replied sleepily, crawling into bed.

"It won't be long now," he reassured her. "Then you can have your bladder back."

He crawled in next to her without even taking off his clothes. Fleur snuggled in close as he reached around and rubbed her back, her big belly between them. That was their child she was carrying, who even now he could feel squirming against him. If he hadn't already been completely in love with Fleur before, then surely seeing her pregnant with his child would have done the trick.

"Did you have fun?" she asked.

"More than we should have, surely."

"No one was arrested?"

He laughed softly. "Let's just say that it is a good thing we had a Ministry official and two Aurors with us."

"Bill…" He felt her shake her head against his shoulder. "You stink."

She pulled away, sitting up slightly. He imagined her nose wrinkling delicately in disgust.

"I'll shower," he said with a laugh.

After his shower, Bill pulled on a pair of pajama pants and returned to the bed. Fleur was already back to sleep, she'd stolen his pillows and blankets again. And she was snoring softly, something she would not admit to doing ("Veela do not snore!"). He shook his head and pulled out the spare blanket and pillow he kept hid under the bed. Crawling in beside her, he wrapped an arm around her middle. The baby kicked against his palm and Bill fell off to sleep with a smile on his face.

oOo

August 2000

Teresa had to admit that she had thought of Bill many times since she had run into him in the pub back in April. The longer she was in England, the more she understood the toll the war had taken on her community. The news she had received in the States, she realized, had been faulty more often than not. She began to feel guilty for sitting it out, as every person she knew seemed to bear some mark of the war. And Bill had come to symbolize the whole war in her mind.

Because of that, she felt deep shame over the way she had acted that night. True, she had been shocked, but that was no excuse for forgetting her manners.

She visited Madam Malkin's in early August, passing a pram on her way in. As she was winding through the racks of clothes, she heard a familiar voice.

"How did you talk me into coming shopping with you?"

Teresa peered around the racks to see Bill sitting in a chair by the changing rooms. He was at his leisure, in Muggle jeans and a black t-shirt, his long hair pulled back into a ponytail. He was holding a little pink bundle against his chest, looking as natural as possible. In profile, it was easy to forget how ravaged his face was.

"Somebody had to take care of zee baby while I tried on clothes," came a female voice from behind the curtain. A female voice with a thick French accent.

"Oh, and Audrey couldn't make it?"

"Audrey! Pfft! She has terrible taste in clothes."

"What about Ginny or Hermione or even Mum."

"Ginny hates to shop, Hermione is only useful in a bookstore and I will not dignify zat last one wiz a response."

Bill was smiling fondly, stroking the baby's cheek. "There is always Angelina."

There was a beat of silence from behind the curtain, then, "Zat is not a bad idea."

"I had to have a good one eventually. Why do you need new clothes anyway?"

"Because I do not fit into any of zee old ones," came the outraged response. "I blame our darling daughter."

"Did you hear that, Victoire?" Bill cooed. "Maman is blaming you for the extra curves. I think it was all of the chocolate gateau, but no one's asked me."

A blonde head stuck out of the curtain, his wife's face hidden behind her long hair. "Zat is right, Bill Weasley, no one asked you."

He chuckled. "You know that you'll be thin as ever in a few months. Besides, I rather like all the new curves."

"Hmph, well, your muzzer said zey will only last until I am done nursing her."

"See, then we should enjoy them while we can."

The blonde head disappeared behind the curtain again. "You enjoy zem, zey are not leaking all over you."

"They do sometimes and I don't mind that either."

There was a pulse of heated silence, then, "Shush, mon Bill."

Teresa's heart ached to watch Bill tease his wife and hold his baby daughter. She suddenly remember why she had made such a big scene when he told her he was leaving for Egypt and leaving her behind (oh, those weren't his words, but it was the general meaning). It wasn't just his handsome face or the great sex that she had wanted to hang on to. In the rare moments when they weren't all over each other, he had been kind and funny like no boy she had known before and no man she had known since.

Dredging up what little courage she had, Teresa walked up to Bill. She had to set things right. For she did have a certain amount of honor and she could not allow things with Bill to stand as they were.

"Bill," she said softly, as she approached.

He looked up, surprise plain in his eyes. Had his eyes always been so blue and so expressive? He stood, shifting the sleeping baby into the crook of his right arm. He extended his left hand to shake hers awkwardly. She looked down at the hand grasping hers and noticed the simple gold band that encircled his ring finger and that, along with a collection of scars across the back of his hand, a part of two of his fingers were missing.

"Teresa," he said with a nod. "How are you?"

No one in Wizarding Britain ever expresses surprise over seeing one another after long periods of time. They were a small community and generally visited the same areas eventually. It was never if you would see someone again, but when. It was different in the States, where the Wizarding community was larger and more spread out.

"I wanted to apologize," Teresa said, not quite meeting his eyes, "for the way I acted the last time we met."

She heard the rattle of the curtain being swept open behind her, saw Bill look over her head, but Teresa carried on.

"I was unforgivably rude and insensitive. I am sorry if I upset you or made…things harder for you to bear."

Bill was looking at her steadily, he didn't dismiss her words or try to make light of the situation. He merely nodded.

"Thank you," he said calmly.

"No, it is I who should thank you."

"For what?"

"For what you did in the war. For standing up when I was too cowardly to even return home."

Bill averted his face, carefully running a finger along the baby's hairline. He cleared his throat and mumbled, "Well, you know, Gryffindor and all that."

"Say," he said in that eager voice that said he wanted to change the subject, "this is my wife, Fleur Weasley."

Teresa turned to the woman behind her. She was stunningly beautiful and Teresa knew right off that this was no mere witch. She had long silvery blond hair and eyes so blue they rivalled the Mediterranean and creamy, soft skin. She also looked vaguely familiar, though Teresa could not place her.

"Comment allez-vous?" said the other woman, extending her hand.

Teresa took it, surprised by the firmness of the grip. "I am well, and you?"

"Bien, merci."

"You are a very lucky woman, to have such a brave husband."

Fleur looked at Bill and there was such love in her eyes that Teresa felt as though she was intruding on a private moment.

"Oui, so lucky, I know zis."

Author's Notes Part Deux: The basic idea for this story came after I read keeptheotherone's wonderful Hidden Chambers and Unseen Monsters. I wondered what it would be like for Bill to meet old girlfriends, in particular, after being mauled. If you haven't read Hidden Chambers, I highly recommend it.

But really, this was story I wanted to read, but couldn't find so I wrote it. I would still love to read other's take on the same idea. If any of you want to write your own version, I would love to read it so let me know.

So, read and review, please. You'll make my day.

Author's Note Part Trois: So, I updated this to correct my abysmal high school French. Bad Mum, as well as a guest by the name of Almedias corrected my French. I thank you both. And I curse you, Google Translator!

Oh, and don't forget to review, sil vous plait et merci!