I do not own.
Pathetic
The word rolled through his head over and over as he lay awake in the room he had grown up in. Bill Weasley had never really feared anything. He had always known he would be crushed if something happened to his family, but he hadn't really feared it. He hadn't been afraid of heights or spiders or the dark curses he dealt with on a daily basis. He never feared being caught out of bed at school. Professor McGonagall had told him it was lack of common sense that did it. That had been after he had gone up against five older Slytherins alone, instead of calling a teacher, and landed himself in the hospital wing.
The girl he had dated n his sixth year had told him he was brave, a true Gryffindor. He didn't agree. Bravery required fear, didn't it? He hadn't been afraid of the group of older boys, so facing them wasn't brave, it was just stupid. He had always got along well with the twins, because they, like him, developed a reckless disregard for their own wellbeing early in life. He almost felt guilty when he realised they would be coming to Hogwarts the year after he left as he listened to Madame Pomfrey muttering to herself.
"I'll be glad when I'm rid of you, though you'll probably end up getting yourself killed within a year, curse breaking, really." She huffed and handed him burn ointment. "It's a warning label Weasley, not a challenge." She glared at the head boy, then turned to his little brother, quidditch captain who grinned sheepishly and ran a hand through his hair. "And I suppose you're going to do the same are you? Run blindly into caves to fetch things that are better left alone."
"No ma'am, I'm going to be a dragon trainer." Charlie answered with a bright grin. Madame Pomfrey pursed her lips, dismissed them both, muttering something that sounded suspiciously like "Molly was such a sensible girl..."
Bill had never had to be brave, he'd been fearless, but he had been sorted into Gryffindor. He had always just assumed that when the time came he'd prove to be brave as well. He had been proven wrong. As he lay, staring at the cracked ceiling, his fear consumed him.
Pathetic
He had been brought to the Burrow from the hospital wing so that he could rest and Fleur and his mother could both coddle him to their hearts' content. He could hear the house around him, creaking and bending and the wind rushing in through cracks in walls and ceilings.
Madam Pomfrey couldn't fix him this time. He couldn't go to the healer at work and get a potion and a raised eyebrow and be fine. He was terrified. He could hear and smell everything and his own house terrified him. In one night he had gone from fearless to afraid everything, even of himself, especially of himself. He'd been bitten by an untransformed werewolf. There was no way for them to know what would happen to him. The healers all smiled at him and told him he was very unlikely to have any real transformations, he would likely be completely safe. Likely wasn't good enough. He wasn't ready to take that risk with Fleur. He saw how the healers looked at him, it was the same way everyone else did. Pity or fear. His mother, his family, they pitied him. Everyone else he'd seen, people who had been in the hospital wing, they feared him. Remus pitied him, it was a different kind of pity, Remus had been in a situation like his.
If the healers feared him, what did that say about him? Would he hurt someone? Kill someone? Only three people had been allowed in his room since he'd arrived. The three people who didn't fear or pity him. He wouldn't let his mother in, couldn't stand the way she looked at him.
Pathetic
Ginny and Hermione had come by. They wanted to apologize for misjudging Fleur, for thinking she was shallow. Fleur smiled and nodded at them and only Bill knew how much it meant to her. As they left Hermione turned back to him.
"For the record, Bill, you wear them well. I've become rather attached to my own you know. I think they give character." She pushed her robe to the side to show the blackened web-like scar that was partly visible above her top.
"She's right, you were always cool, now you're kind of mysterious looking. Of course that'll go out the window as soon as you open your mouth so you'd best be glad you already got the girl." Ginny agreed and they left.
He did have the girl, and she was staying. No one could really have blamed her if she left now, it was her free pass, but she didn't leave. Her presence scared him more than anything. What would he do if he hurt her? She kept telling him she knew he wouldn't hurt her, but if he didn't know that, how could she possibly be sure?
Fleur came in with a tray of food; he was still confined to bed rest. "Your muzzer is worried." She set the tray down in front of him. "You need to talk to 'er." She sat down on the bed with him as he picked at his food. "And you need to get better." She stared at him for a long while. He was convinced her penetrating stare could see straight into his mind. As if to prove his point she spoke again. "Beel, I am not as fragile as you zink." She held out her hand and a ball of flame appeared. "I know you won't 'urt me, but if you try, I can stop you." She threw the ball at the window and it shattered. "You are not ze only one in this relationship 'ou 'as a less attractive side."
He cracked a grin. "Oh but that's where you're wrong, that is hot." She slapped his arm lightly. She was right, nothing to fear. He may not be brave, but who needs courage when you've got a complete lack of common sense? "So how do you feel about the Andes? I hear the Inca had some interesting protective curses." She smirked back at him, practically glowing.
"We'll go after ze war. Your petit sœur was right, not at all mysterious when you speak."
I don't know. I just don't, but I like it.