Author's Note: Enjooooy!

Disclaimer: The following characters belong to J.K. Rowling, and this story derives from her original works, storylines, and world. Please do not sue me, I can barely pay tuition.

Warnings: NA


Stacked with: MC4A; Hogwarts

Individual Challenge(s): Forehead Kisses; Hola, Bonjour, Jambo; Gryffindor MC; Beauxbatons MC; Summer Vacation; Seeds; Golden Times; Old Shoes; Themes and Things A (Love); Themes and Things B (Escape); Rian-Russo Inversion; In a Flash; Click Bait It; Yellow Ribbon; Yellow Ribbon Redux

Word Count: 1066


Summer Bingo

Space address (prompt): 5D (Trip)


For Better or For Worse

Bill had to say: he was somewhat disappointed at how quickly that "for worse" bit of his vows came into play. He and Fleur had only been married for a few hours before disaster struck.

In the chaos of the day, Bill's big accomplishment was that he'd stopped the Death Eaters from taking Ginny away to question her about Harry Potter's whereabouts on her own.

"We'll cooperate," he'd promised, looking in the eye of a man he'd used to work with, tasting a bad, bitter taste in his mouth as he did. "But don't separate us. It will be simpler for you."

Ginny had done well, held her temper and her ground.

"I don't know anything about where Harry Potter would have gone," she said. "We were together for months; no need to exaggerate. Besides, if he honestly cared as much about me as you seem to think, would he have told me anything of value?"

Hermione: they didn't know her. Yes, she was a Muggleborn. No, they didn't know whether or not she'd been planning to return to Hogwarts. They'd have to know where Harry Potter was first to even guess whether or not Hermione Granger would be with him, of course.

When they'd seen the trio disappear, the twins had slipped away to relocate the ghoul to Ron's room and it was put to its very first test. It passed with flying colours, but the Death Eaters wouldn't leave them. Now, they were all lurking in the Burrow's living room, waiting for something to give. Remus and Tonks had made themselves scarce once most guests had been evacuated for Remus' sake, and to protect Tonks' cover and perhaps preserve their in with the Auror Department—they'd be worried sick. It had been hours, and they were all getting tired and antsy. Bill worried that a mistake or a disaster was near.

"You can search the house if you like," Dad repeated calmly. "But there's nothing here. We don't know anything. We can't help."

It was the line Bill had used hours ago, and it was the line they'd all used consistently. He hoped that it would be enough, but refused to let doubt enter his mind. It had to work. It just did.

"Potter's got to be somewhere," the Death Eater said.

"Perhaps he took a trip," Fleur said, breaking a silence that had felt stiff and forced to Bill, like an electrical storm brewing.

"Sweetheart," Mum whispered to her quietly.

"Watch your mouth and mind your manners," the Death Eater said.

"Sir, I have plenty of manners—and etiquette as well, which means looking at a situation and acting appropriately. For example: this was a wedding, not some sort of political organization or rally. If you require proof of this, I can offer you a slice of cake or point to this dress that I am wearing—and that your people, by the way, got dirt on," she said, gesturing to her white gown amongst the many, many other hand gestures that came as she spoke. She shook her hair back. "But this is, I think the expression says, the tip of the iceberg as to why I am unhappy with this hours-long investigation of yours."

She picked up again before the Death Eater could start again, gesturing wildly and picking up the rapid cadence that Bill knew she was borrowing from French.

"My baby brother-in-law is upstairs, sick," Fleur said, pointing. "We have been entertaining you so long, we have not been able to check in on him. That is unacceptable. My little sister, here—she is tired and exhausted and has answered all of your questions already about this boy she is not dating. What more do you hope to squeeze out of her? Is it really so difficult to talk to a child in the first place? If there was a lead here, you would have found it by now. If Harry Potter was in this house, you would have found him by now. Hermione Granger, obviously not here either. You should look elsewhere because there is no trail here and if there was one it would be dead, as my kind family has been saying—but too politely because they are British and that is not their fault."

Bill wasn't sure how this was going to play out, but Fleur's deep blue eyes held all of their gazes at once. She crossed her arms over her chest and cocked her head to the side expectantly. Her veil shifted with the movement, and reminded Bill of just how stunning she looked.

"The Dark Lord will want to know what happened here," one of the Death Eaters said.

"Surely," Fleur said. "Do you require assistance to find the door, or may my family sit down for the first time in several hours?"

"We'll see ourselves out," the other said. He pushed into the others' shoulders. The various Weasley and Delacour family members in the living room cleared a path for them as they left.

One of them stopped in the doorway of the living room.

"By the way, sorry about your dress," he mumbled. And then he left.

Once they heard the front door close, Bill went off to check that they'd really gone. Charlie was hot on his heels, and they watched the Death Eaters Disapparate. They went back to the living room.

"They're gone," Charlie said.

A general sigh of relief came out.

"Gabrielle, viens," Fleur said reaching out for her sister and clutching her to her chest.

Ginny collapsed on the couch, head between her knees. She swatted away Fred's hand when he approached. Dad squeezed a shaking Mum in his arms. The Delacours looked shocked and confused.

Bill couldn't look away from Fleur, who eventually felt his eyes on her. She kissed Gabrielle's hair before turning to him. He reached out for her and she came, nestling herself between his arms. He kissed her forehead and then rested his chin on top of her head.

"A lot happened today," he said quietly. "But after seeing that I know, if nothing else, that I made a good choice today."

She looked up at him and smiled.

"It's the dress," Fleur shrugged. "Nobody wants to fight a bride on her wedding day."

"That's only partially true, I think."

"Are you fighting me on this now, M. Weasley?"

"Maybe I am, Mrs. Weasley," he said.