Written for Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Assignment #3. Mythology, task 4 (Demeter): Write about someone with a floral name

The Insane House Challenge. 538: (Plot point) Arguing over a name

365 Prompts. 351: (Word) Justify

Word Count: 1,170

Fleur was speaking in French, and quite rapidly. Bill watched her pace the room, hands on her hips. No thanks to him, they were now arguing over what to name their second miracle. The bump of Fleur's pregnancy was just beginning to show, and the flowy white shirt she was wearing made it even more apparent. Content with her mutterings, she turned back to Bill, a slight glare in her eyes. He stared at her blankly. He'd picked up some French by now, but not enough to have known what she was saying.

"Laurette is a fine name for a baby," she told him, summarizing her rant. Bill agreed with her, on some level. It sounded beautiful the way she said it, letting the French name roll off her tongue. But he was certain an English accent would ruin it. He'd already gone through it with Victoire; he'd come to expect that the name would be mispronounced as "Victory." He really didn't want it to happen again, for his daughter to have to learn multiple names instead of just one. Said daughter was currently playing with her grandmum, who'd happily offered to watch the toddler for two hours in the afternoon.

"I do like it," Bill told her. "It's a beautiful name. And the meaning…"

"A laurel flower. Zey are some of ze prettiest flowers, either pink or red or white. Beau!"

"They are very nice flowers. But I still think-"

"I know what you still think. Zat 'Dominique' is ze best name."

"It is a French name," Bill reminded her. He liked Dominique. It was easier to say.

"But it's not ze best one. It is good, yes. It will do, perhaps, as a backup in case zere are twins."

They weren't having twins. Every spell they'd done, every potion she'd taken, and every medi-witch they'd visited had told them the same thing: one girl.

"Fleur, Laurette is a great name. Really, it is. But think about it, okay? Isn't Dominique better"

"I 'ave already thought. And I 'ave thought, 'Hmm… Laurette will be ze perfect - parfait - name for our daughter!'" Fleur clearly wasn't happy with his persistence, to the point of using sarcasm unhomurously.

"Maybe you could think some more."

"I will go upstairs, zen. To do my thinking." Bill watched his wife retreat into their bedroom, continuing her French muttering. He knew part of it was the pregnancy - but he shouldn't say so. He hadn't presented his idea in the best way, either, by bringing it up randomly and abruptly. He'd been trying to justify it, to say the topic had to come up sometime, but the truth was this: neither of them were quite prepared to handle choosing a name just yet, and he'd had such little tact as to force the conversation.

He took a moment to collect himself, and to let Fleur calm down, and then followed her up the stairs and into their bedroom.

"Fleur?" he asked, opening the door and leaning his head in. She was sitting on the edge of the bed, arms crossed. "I'm sorry. Maybe we can talk about this better now. I should probably say why I want the name."

"Dominique!" Fleur cried out. "And with zat awful middle name you like, too. What was it?"

"Zoey."

"Oui. Dominique Zoey. What kind of name do you think I am giving my child?"

"Maybe not Zoey as a middle name. But listen, Fleur. Laurette… it sounds lovely when you say it, but what about others? Victoire… it's a great name, I think we made the right choice. It's beautiful, and holds a lot of meaning. But she's going to have to go by Vic. What good is it for her to have such a pretty name when no one can say it right?"

"We say it right."

"And who else, besides our families?"

"I know. It is hard to pronounce. For you Englishmen, anyways."

"I don't want that to happen to…" He gestured at her belly, unsure of what to call their unborn child.

"It is okay. Maybe… maybe you are right. But I am not having Zoey as a middle name."

"I would suggest Nymphadora, but it seems a little-"

"Disrespectful, I know," Fleur said laughing a bit. She'd uncrossed her arms, and patted the spot next to her. Bill sat down. "Merlin, she hated zat name so much. And can you imagine! Dominique Nymphadora. It is like trying to say twist-tongue."

Bill laughed. Every now and then, an English phrase would pop up that Fleur didn't know, and she'd just say the closest to it she could. Bill loved those moments, especially when he was the only one who knew what she meant. It felt like a secret, when really, it was just proof Fleur hadn't gotten the Gringotts job for the sole purpose of "improving her English."

"Dominique Laurette, though," Bill said. "I like that."

"It is still long."

"Long names sound good."

"I 'ave a short name!" Fleur protested.

"It doesn't make me love you any less."

"Very sweet, chéri," Fleur said, leaning against him. She smiled. "When is your mother done taking care of Victoire?"

"We told her we'd be back by four, but Mum sounded a little disappointed when I said that. She'd gladly keep Victoire for another hour."

"What time is it now? Three 'o clock? Zat is good. 'Ave we decided on Dominique Laurette, zen?"

"We'll probably change our minds by the time you have the baby."

"Don't be so sure. I don't hate Dominique so much when zere's no 'Zoey' attached to it."

"Zoey is not a bad name."

"Zere is little reason behind it, though. Oh, did I mention what my maman thought? Zat Roux would be a good name." Fleur started laughing. "It means red hair, one of ze translations."

"We can't possibly know what our baby's hair colour will be."

"We've already had one, and she isn't red-haired. For all we know, zis one could be planning on keeping ze Weasley tradition alive."

"There is no tradition."

"I, personally, think you all planned it as embryos."

"That's not possible."

"And I am not ze only one. Neville Longbottom, Andromeda, Cho Chang, even your own mother!" Fleur counted on her fingers as she went, holding her hand up for Bill to see. "I am telling you, it must be true."

Bill shook his head slightly, and then said, in jest, "And you have kept this from me? How long has been?"

"I am just teasing, chéri. I am not stupid. An embryo couldn't possibly plan anything. A fetus, on the other hand…"

Bill laughed, and Fleur joined him.

"Conspiring embryo or not, I love you," she promised.

"I love you too," Bill said, kissing her. He bent over and kissed her belly. "Both of you."