A Better Christmas
A/N: This was written for the lovely Raven of the Shadows for The Golden Snitch Secret Santa Gift Exchange. Merry Christmas, Raven!
And please forgive my horrible French dialogue (not to mention the whole story itself, I didn't want you to miss out, I'll have it beta'd ASAP XD)
"Bill, are you going to 'elp me?" Fleur asked.
Bill looked up from the Prophet he was reading and plastered on a smile. "Nope, I think you've got it," he said, winking at her.
It was all he could do to appear calm and collected. Inside, his heart was pounding against his ribs, threatening to burst. His palms felt sweaty, enough to cause him to wipe them on his pants whenever he thought Fleur wasn't watching, and his throat felt dry. If he allowed her to see just how nervous he was now, Christmas, he was sure, would be ruined.
With a glass bauble dangling from one of her fingers, Fleur scowled at him. "Bill, you 'as to 'elp me! Zee tree eez not finished yet!"
"It looks fine to me," Bill said, waving his hand at the tree.
Fleur's blue eyes narrowed further and she held out the bauble. "Eet needs to be perfect!"
Bill turned his gaze away from her and focused on the tree instead. The large, green pine tree nestled by the window reached from the cream carpet floor of their apartment all the way to the ceiling. Fleur had managed to find a tree that was lush and thick. The smell of sap wafted through the small living room, making the small fairies employed to light the tree a little nauseous. Fleur had covered every branch possible with a pattern of glittering gold and silver ornaments. Every ornament matched, from the shiny glass baubles to the decorations shaped like icicles and candy canes. Not a single hand-made ornament was there, save for the little wreath Fleur's sister had made at Beuxbatons. Bill had been fine with leaving the tree how they had gotten it.
Even so, the tree looked more than finished and Bill couldn't find a single thing wrong with it. It was Fleur in every way—perfect and all he needed.
"It's fine. Besides, you're the one who wanted to put up the tree. You do know my mum will have one set up at the Burrow, don't you?" Bill said, still avoiding Fleur's gaze.
Mentioning his mother was a mistake, for as soon as he did, a million butterflies took flight in his stomach. What would she think about his decision? Would she be happy for him, or would she threaten to cut off more than his hair? Perhaps it wasn't a good idea to tell anyone now, perhaps he should wait until after the holidays.
"Ha! Your mother's tree… you know eet won't be zee same!" Fleur said, shaking her head. Selecting a glass-shaped rocking-horse from the box at her feet, Fleur added, "I want zis Christmas to be perfect."
The butterflies now swarmed in his stomach, causing Bill to shift in his seat. "Now, now, mum's tree is just as beautiful, I know you'll like it," he said, making the mistake of looking at Fleur.
Fleur opened her mouth to say something but closed it. Sniffing, she turned from Bill and placed the rocking-horse onto the tree.
"Eet won't be zee same."
"Come on, Fleur, we'll have a great time. Don't worry about the tree now, let's go pack and maybe have an early night," Bill said.
Fleur continued to select ornaments, her movements slower and more deliberate than usual. Bill could see that her shoulders sagged a little, her head held just a little bit lower. It broke his heart to see her like that—almost enough to stop his heart from rapidly beating.
They had planned to spend the week leading up to Christmas at Fleur's parent's house before heading off to the Burrow on Christmas Day for dinner. Fleur had spent every Christmas at her home in France, enjoying helping the family's house-elves decorate the large tree and house. Her family would gather on Christmas Eve to have a small feast and sing songs. Bill had been looking forward to being part of the celebrations himself, especially in terms of getting to know a bit more about Fleur and her family. Unfortunately, an early gift in the form of an invitation to spend the time overseas had been given to Fleur's parents, and now they were off sunning themselves in Spain with Gabrielle. Fleur had been invited along, but she had been adamant that she wanted a snowy Christmas.
Bill had tried to make some of the delicious food for Fleur to help remind her of home, however, his questionable culinary skills had only made Fleur pine for her French life more.
"I'd like to finish zee tree," Fleur said, adjusting a few decorations. One of the snowflakes caught the light of a fairy, casting silver specks across her face.
Bill stared at her, watching the silver specks dancing around on her smooth skin. One seemed to slide down her cheek. With a start, he realised that it was not a reflection of the ornament.
His palms still sweaty, Bill pushed himself up off his chair. His knees still wobbled a little, his heart resuming its thrumming against his chest before leaping to his throat. He wasn't sure if he was completely ready, but he knew he would not let Fleur cry. Not tonight.
"Perhaps we could open up a present each tonight?" Bill said, walking over to Fleur.
He wrapped his arms around her, pressing a kiss to her head. At first, Fleur stiffened in his grasp, probably determined to remain upset, but slowly, with another kiss, Bill could feel her relaxing.
Wiping away another tear, Fleur twisted her head to look up at him. Her eyes danced with excitement as she asked, "Now?"
Bill nodded and within a second Fleur was stooped down near the base of the tree, flicking through the various boxes and parcels sitting underneath it. Grabbing a large parcel with her name on it, she stood back up.
Bill had to suppress a grin as he took the parcel from her. This was it; it was time to ask before he burst.
Fleur frowned at him as he put the parcel back under the tree, sitting it among the other wrapped gifts waiting for her there. Getting down on his knees to find it where he had hidden it amongst the innermost branches at the bottom, Bill then pulled out a small box.
"This one's for you. Merry Christmas, Fleur," he said, holding it up to her.
Fleur gasped, fresh tears springing to her eyes. She made a funny squeaking sort of noise, pointing from herself to the box and back again. It was only when he nodded that she took it and ripped off the gold paper around it.
Looking back to him once more, her eyes shining, Fleur opened the leather jewel box. Almost immediately, her face transformed from a wide grin to a frown. Bill worked hard to hide the snicker that now rose to his lips, putting it down to both his nerves and amusement. Lifting out the object inside, Fleur turned back to him.
"A… corkscrew?" she said, blinking.
Bill nodded, lifting a hand to his mouth to hide the way the corners turned up. "Do you like it? You'll probably need one when we go to the Burrow. You know, 'cause there'll be a lot of us and finding things in that house is a little impossible."
Still blinking, Fleur stared at the corkscrew. Her mouth opened and closed like she was lost for words. Her hands began to tremble just like his were, and Bill knew it was now or never.
Reaching into his robe pocket, he pulled out another box, identical in shape and size, and held it out to Fleur. She stared at it for a moment, her eyes narrowing.
"This goes with it," Bill said.
He swallowed when Fleur didn't immediately accept it, shifting on his knee. He had gone too far, hadn't he? Maybe this wasn't the best way to ask… Sitting up, he pressed the box into Fleur's hand.
She glared at him before tearing off the wrapper, more slowly this time. Inside was yet another leather jewellery box, and as Fleur opened it, Bill cleared his throat.
There was no turning back now.
Staring into her eyes—or as best he could with her staring at the box—Bill said, "Fleur Marie Delacour, from the moment I met you—"
"Oui!" Fleur said, the same squeaky sound emanating from her throat.
Relief flooded through his body as he saw Fleur break out into a smile again, holding up a small but elegant diamond ring. His legs and hands were still shaking, even as he gripped onto one of Fleur's hands.
"Let me finish," he said, feeling his own eyes start to water.
"Oui!" Fleur said again, turning her grin to him. "Yes!"
"Fleur, I haven't asked yet—"
"Oui! Oui! A thousand times yes!"
"—Will you marry me?" he finished, laughing as Fleur wrapped her arms around his neck. "You didn't let me finish."
She began to sob. Bill held her tightly, breathing in her minty scent. Fleur held onto him a little longer then pushed back, grinning from him to the ring he now slipped onto her finger.
"You didn't let me answer properly the first time," Fleur said, nudging the corkscrew lying on the floor.
Bill laughed again, pulling Fleur closer to him. Fleur tilted her head forward and crashed her lips against him.
"Just one condition, zough," Fleur said after a minute of kissing.
Pulling back, Bill felt his heart leapt to his throat yet again that evening. "Oh?"
Fleur leant back and reached into the box of decorations. Pulling out a bauble, she slid the loop onto one of his fingers.
"You have to 'elp decorate," she said, pulling him over to the tree. "Merry Christmas, Bill."
Pressing a kiss to her forehead, Bill hung the decoration on one of the branches, trying to match the pattern Fleur had created.
Fleur might not have had the Christmas she had wanted, but at least Bill now had hope that he had made it a little better.