Fleur Delacour had, from a young age, been taught the ways of a 'lady', delicate, pure and sensitive. Her marriage to Bill Weasley was, perhaps, a lasting effect of her constant rebellion against this way of life which her parents pushed upon Fleur in her upbringing. Bills life, and for that matter, career was somewhat more abstract, and this in itself appealed to Fleur, however it was the independence which each family member maintained that fascinated her. Each Weasley was unique, different, yet they all were accepted for who they were amongst eachother. This was far from what Fleur had grown up with, and it lifted her spirits to be accepted for who she was, despite how much it deviated from the upper-class role which she had been encouraged to take by her own parents.
After she had received her acceptance letter from the Beauxbatons Academy of Magic her perfect little sister had been the first to react, she had burst into tears, clinging to her mothers legs, screaming for her letter, although it was not yet her time. Meanwhile her parents had made arrangements for a pampered evening out, new dress, jewellery, a show and dinner. Fleur found herself strangely neutral to her surroundings, her sisters tears were drying at the prospect of a night of being glamorous, however for quite a while now Fleur had found little pleasure or excitement in these activities, they were too routine, too predictable. In fact the only variation was the show, and tonights particularly appealed to her. It lingered with her later that night as she lay in bed, she saw it again in her mind, and marvelled over the grace of the performers, the perfect way they walked, and the way birds flitted from their costumes. She silently dreamed that one day she could perfect an act like that, convince her parents that she was the lady they wanted her to be, and hopefully she would then be free to express herself more accurately in her free time. Apart from the expression and talent demonstrated in the show she had found the rest of the evening quite stifling, the restaurant which she had been visiting since she was an infant was familiar, the people, the staff, and the exquisite menu, all never varied, it lead Fleur to the realisation that she was bored. She hoped that her time at the Academy would change this, but she doubted it. She wanted to be content in herself, and have her family accept her for who she was. At this stage it was only here, in her room, that she felt truly at home. She sat up and held the covers close to her and inspected her room. Posters of various bands covered the walls, although not the ones that your every day witch would listen to. No, Fleur preffered more alternate, heavy music once away from her parents expectations and into her little haven. Amongst the posters was her most prized possession, a single page from one of her favourite shows. This sheet contained the incantations and directions for several spells, yet she had not tried any, her ignorance towards even the most simple magic prevented this. She laid back once more on her pillows and shut her eyelids sleepily, wishing once more that the beginning of her education also assisted her in her efforts to please her parents, and herself.
The Tri-Wizard Tournament. Eternal Glory. It was all very nice, or so Fleurs parents thought. Looking back the part which Fleur herself had found most enjoyable was the preparation. She had managed to earn the role of organising the girls entrance at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, a reason which her parents finally felt validated the return of her precious stage transcript which had, many years ago, resided on her wall. (She had arrived home form her first year at Beauxbatons to find that her parents had stripped her room of any belongings which could have been called personal, expecting her to finally be the perfect daughter, like her sister). This in itself had been a small victory for Fleur, however as she moved with the other girls down the Great Hall of Hogwarts she felt that she had finally achieved the act which so many people seemed to expect from her. She had easily performed the spell which produced birds from her robes as she moved, and at that moment she, like the birds, had felt free, at least within this moment. She guessed this inner triumph had led her to make the first move with Bill. When he left for Romania their relationship had been still so fragile, yet she had promised to write, and write she did. An owl a day, and he returned every one (with a few extras in between). This communication made Bill's younger brother, Rons, offer to the Yule ball intensely uncomfortable for Fleur, she regretted causing him embarrassment, yet later on they both saw the humour in the event. It was perhaps Bill's fond recollection of his family which led her to finally accept her that her perfect little sister, Gabrielle, was just that. She remembered kissing her little forehead as she dosed against her shoulder on the return trip to Beauxbatons in the carriage. Fleur may not have won the tournament, and for that she was glad. As she had still won eternal glory in a much more valuable from, on top of that she was, at last, content.
Call her selfish but, in the wizarding worlds hour of darkness Fleur was blocking it all out. Bill's hands were around her waist, they were dancing their first dance as a married couple, together at last. She loved him, he knew her as no other did, he accepted her quirks, her slight deviations from the outside lady which she appeared to be, and sometimes even encouraged them. Something which no-one else had done for her. Her parents were troubled, however even they could not shield their eyes from the happiness which radiated from her. She tilted her face up for a kiss, and she received one. Ever so sweet, but it was cut short, for it was at that moment Kingsley's message arrived from the ministry. Chaos reigned, yet Bill's hand clasped hers. All would be well.