Watching
She watches as they huddle together, talking. Their tones are hushed and she wants to know what they're saying, but makes no effort to do so.
The war is taking its toll, and it's noticeable in the atmosphere. Bill and Fleur stand a few paces away, vaguely hostile expressions on their faces. Somewhere she registers that it's strange that Fleur have that expression: maybe in another world, another life, Fleur would be the girl dancing around the room, smiling, laughing. They all might.
She tries to soften the tension with a compliment about how beautiful the house and surroundings are, plays with the wind chime. She's more there than usual; during the time in the Malfoys' cellar, she lost some of the vagueness. The knowledge that at any time, one of them could call for their Lord sharpened some of the dreaminess. Her compliment seems a little contrived, though she does mean it. She doesn't have the heart to talk about Nargles or Crumple-Horned Snorcacks: the most she can muster is a bit of lore about wind chimes. It's idyllic, and it's a little bubble that doesn't quite manage to stay away from all that's going on. Geographically it's some distance away, but the war still hangs over them.
The dead house-elf and injured goblin are just further proof, as if the weak Ollivander and escape from his headquarters wasn't enough.
They're scattered now. Harry looks out at the grave he dug for Dobby, and she ponders it. It's so him; she realises that he considered Dobby a friend and a magically-made grave wouldn't be quite enough. He told her once, the story of his second year, during which he met Dobby and Dobby tried to protect him.
Ron and Hermione join Harry, though Ron is barely recognisable and Hermione has become Bellatrix Lestrange – Polyjuice, she supposes. She's grateful, suddenly: this is the closest Hermione will come to being a dark witch.
Fleur is in the kitchen, and Bill is tending to Ollivander. She closes her eyes for a moment, blocking out the three humans and one goblin, and pretends that it's a domestically peaceful scene: Bill could be tending to a sick relative, while his wife cooks and a friend of the family visits.
Her eyes open just as the quartet link hands, obviously preparing to Apparate. She wonders what it is they need, why they need to make bargains with a goblin. Goblins aren't easily bought or bribed.
They vanish and with a jolt of understanding, she realises that there's likely going to be a battle soon. They're going to do something dangerous and incredible and stupid, like they did during school, and it's going to trigger a battle.
She picks up her wand, admiring the wood. During the long hours in the cellar when night could have been day or day might've been night, she would ask Ollivander about wands, never anything really specific, but whatever came into her mind. It often sparked discussions, and she thinks it comforted them both.
Bill returns, telling Fleur that Ollivander is asleep now. Fleur puts lunch on the table, and they pick at it. The food is good, and she forces it down, telling herself that she'll need to eat if she's going to fight in any battles.
Fleur eyes the fake Galleon curiously, and she briefly explains it. A minute later, it's hanging on a fine chain around her neck, close to her collarbone. When it warms, she wants to know immediately, and agrees to alert them so they can begin sending out the warnings and messages.
They clear up from lunch, tune the wireless and wait for news.