Dedicated to you, Mum. I hope wherever you are, you're happy. And I hope you're proud of me.

Happy Birthday!


You shall be Mine, even in Death

'He made me see what Life is, and what Death signifies, and why Love is stronger than both.'
Oscar Wilde

She smiled as she stepped down the last stair. Bill would be here any minute now to pick her up for their date. She did not know where they were going, but they would be together, and that was enough. She had just picked up her heels when the floo chimed, and a voice she had heard before but couldn't recognise called out, "Molly, Arthur, come to Hogwarts, fast!"

She turned to the fireplace just in time to see the Hogwarts mediwitch retract her head at the other end. Fleur could read people better than anything else, and Madam Pomfrey's expression of pity and sadness made her blood run cold. Dropping the shoes, she raced past Mrs Weasley and out of the house barefoot. As soon as her feet crossed the wards, she apparated to the Hogwarts gates and ran all the way to the hospital wing, her heart guiding her to her fiancé.

The doors opened with a bang as she neared them, her magical aura flaring around her. The bed surrounded by the redheads caught her attention at once. Her knees buckled, and she felt like running away. Steeling herself, she staggered to the bed. They made way for her as she approached. She caught the sight of Bill's mangled face, and a single tear trickled down her cheek. Their eyes met, and she knew. He was alive… barely.

When Mr and Mrs Weasley entered the hospital wing, neither Fleur nor Bill turned away. For her, it was just two of them there, looking at each other. His hand clasped hers as if apologising for the cancelled date. She squeezed his hand and closed the distance between them; her lips touched his, and Bill's his eyes fluttered shut. With a last shuddering, warm breath caressing her face, William Weasley slumped to the bed.

"Bill," Mrs Weasley cried, and Fleur stepped back, his hand still in hers, to give them a moment alone. "Oh Bill," Mrs Weasley sobbed, burying her face Mr Weasley's chest, and the latter wrapped his arms around her. Fleur felt a pang of jealousy, realising there would be no Bill to hold her like that now. "A-And he was g-going to be married!"

Fleur stiffened at those words. She turned to Professor McGonagall, who was standing next to her, and asked, "Who did zis?"

"I'm sorry, Fleur," said McGonagall. Fleur's face hardened as she stopped herself from commenting that she didn't need her pity. "It was Fenrir Greyback."

Fleur snarled, and everyone turned to her. "I will kill Greyback," she said. "I am going to avenge your death, Bill… and then… and then I will marry you." All of their jaws dropped open, but she ignored them. She glared at Mrs Weasley in the eye, thinking of all the times when the Weasley matriarch had tried to dissuade Bill from his relationship with Fleur. She was going to show Mrs Weasley that her love for Bill was deeper than anything the overbearing woman could imagine.

With a last look at her fiancé, Fleur turned on her heel and marched away.

o§o

She frowned as her thoughts once again turned to him. She peered to her left, only to meet his eyes, amusement swimming in those deep blue pools. His lips turned upward in a smirk as if he knew his casual dismissal of her allure was frustrating her to no end. Sniffing, she turned her attention back to the paperwork.

.

A shadow fell on her desk as she was finishing the last of the day's work. She looked up, shading her eyes from the lamplight with her hand. He was standing there, a small smile on his lips, the reflection of light from shiny red paint on her fingers dancing on his face, clashing with his long, red hair. Fleur's heartbeat quickened.

"Go out with me?" he asked, his voice husky, making the hair in her nape rise.

Her heart was screaming at her to say yes. She swallowed, her gaze flickering around once, and in a flat voice, said, "No." His smile faltered for a moment, and she hid her smile at a point scored. He raised a sly brow and shrugged. "See you around," he said, turning and walking away without another look back.

o§o

How she reached here she couldn't remember. But she was standing here at Hogwarts, the noise of the battle echoing in her ears, her eyes moving wildly, searching through the rubble and the crowd for her prey.

When she spotted him, he was making his way toward her, and an animalistic growl left her throat.

"Who are you, pretty?" He stepped over a mangled, dead body of a Death Eater and squinted his eyes. "Ah, the blood traitor Weasley's pet Veela! He was rather delicious, wasn't he? I wonder how Vee—"

Bill's name coming from the savage's mouth made her blood boil. Pain erupted from every muscle and bone in her body, and she screamed as her body changed for the first time.* Her hands — claws — grew hot, balls of flame emerging and leaping towards the werewolf. Her wings flapped behind her, hitting her back and shoulders hard. She leapt into the air, her mind familiarising itself with her new form.

People's gazes burned into the back of her head, but her attention was fixed on the beast in front of her, who was frozen like a person who had felt fear for the first time in their life. He shook his head and jump forward, his claws grazing at her skin as her talons caught his hair. Fleur let her veela spirit take over her mind, watching from a backseat as her beak pierced his eyes. His screams were like music to her ears; satisfaction filled her heart as she clawed at his face, arms, torso, dancing gracefully out of his reach as he tried to retaliate.

She morphed back into her human form, and as her feet touched the ground, her wand leapt to her hand. Greyback laid there, mangled and beaten, tied in thick, black ropes. There seemed to be a lull in the battle as Death Eaters and heroes alike watched in silence Fleur extracting her revenge. Spell after spell shot out of her wand, cutting his body to pieces, his shrieks ringing around the castle; she stood there, unmoving at his pleas for mercy as his blood spilled to the floor. Greyback's head hit the ground with a thump, his body still, and she spoke, for the first time since her fiancé had died: "Bill, you 'ave been avenged."

Her tongue darted out, tasting the blood on her lips, and she looked around at the frozen faces staring at her in fear, awe, and disgust. She shook her head and twisted on the spot, apparating away.**

o§o

She was sitting down next to him, his arm wrapped around her shoulder. They were here again, at their tree as Fleur had dubbed it, for they came here so often. In the distance, she could just make out the form of Bill's childhood home.

"Why is zis tree so special to you?" She asked, and regretted it almost immediately. Sure, they had been dating for a few months, but this was a personal question.

Bill smiled as if he had been expecting this question for some time now. Then the smile slid off his face, and a faraway look came to his eyes. "I haven't told anyone about this," he said. "You won't laugh, will you?"

He sounded so innocent that a 'No' flew out of Fleur's mouth before she could even process what he had said. He pulled out his wand, waving it in an intricate pattern, muttering words she did not understand under his breath. Before taking up a desk job at Gringotts, Bill had worked there as a Curse Breaker, and even the goblins respected his skills. Whatever he was hiding must be important to him if he had used his Curse Breaking skills to protect it.

The top layer of soil vanished just a few yards ahead of her. A bag shot out of the pit, landing in Bill's arms, and the pit vanished as soon as it had appeared. He zipped the bag open and pulled out a musical instrument — bagpipes.

"My uncles — my mum's twin brothers, that is — bought me this a week before they died," he said, his voice hollow. "I never knew why they did that. I was seven, then. These pipes vanished then, and everyone thought these had either been lost or destroyed, but I found it a couple of years later, in my room. With a note carrying their love. It was like they had magically timed it before they… before they were gone.

"When I started playing, it came to me naturally. For some reason, I kept this, and my skill as a bagpipes player, a secret from everyone." He looked at her ."It is like I was waiting for the right person."

He grew silent and leaned back into the tree. He looked so vulnerable that Fleur's heart broke. She wrapped her arms around his neck and gently kissed him. "Will you play for me?"

His lips curled up in a small smile. "Of course."

o§o

She paddled to the shore and pushed her wet hair out of her face. Swimming in the sea always made her relax, yet today, she still felt dirty. She wiped her arms with a towel and dabbed dittany on the long cuts where Greyback's sharp nails had pierced her skin. They would leave permanent scars, but these were her battle marks, and she would wear them with pride.

She stood and went into the house — it had stopped being home after he left — which they had moved into just before their engagement. It had been beautiful then: a small cottage standing there on the cliff, seashells embedded in the whitewashed walls, sea lavender growing around it. To an outsider, it would still be beautiful. To Fleur, it was a constant reminder of what she had lost.

She had tried to leave the cottage, but without Bill's familiar warmth comforting her in the bed, the sea splashing across the rocks had been the only thing that could lull her into sleep.

Fleur felt tears streaking down her cheeks as she remembered how she had woken up in the nights, only to cry herself to sleep. The pain had not lessened since then… she had now just gotten used to it.

But there was another reason why she could not leave the Shell Cottage: it was Bill's resting place. She had fought tooth-and-nail with Mrs Weasley on that matter, and she had got her wish in the end because that was what she and Bill had decided together. That when they die, they would be buried near their home.

On his funeral, she had broken down and run away when they closed the casket. She had yet to muster up the courage to walk up to his grave, but she sat by the window of her bedroom each evening, watching over him from where his name was not visible. It was as if going there would make it real — that he was gone and she was all alone.

But today, she could not back away. She had to fight her monsters if she wished to tell him about today… and about what lay in future.

Guilt suddenly churned her stomach as she dressed. She felt queasy on what she had done. Yes, it had been a revenge for Bill, but would he have wanted that? Would he have hated her for committing a murder?

No, she thought, it wasn't a murder. Greyback would have killed me if I had not fought.

Her subconscious laughed at the bland lie. It was you who went to the battlefield in his pursuit.

She shook her head. She had sworn vengeance for Bill. She could not think like that now. But deep inside, she hated herself for what she had done.

Now was not the time for feeling guilty. She steeled herself and went out to the back of the cottage. Her legs shook, and she rubbed her sweaty palms on her skirt. The sea breeze caressed her face gently as if trying to comfort her. Her feet stopped a few feet away from him. She strengthened her resolve and looked up into the grey marble. A cold hand gripped her heart and she felt her chest constrict; she couldn't breathe. There, etched into the marble was written his name, along with the words: 'No matter how hard Death tries, it can never separate true love.'

A humourless smile flickered to her face. 'You are a 'opeless romantic, Bill,' she used to say. She kissed her fingers and touched them to the gravestone and sat down. She hesitated once, her voice caught in her throat, and then began speaking. She talked about how life had been since the day he had left. The sun went down, but she sat there in the moonlight, talking, venting out her sorrow, anger, frustration, guilt, and all the multitude of emotions she had kept locked up.

She took another gulp of water from the goblet she had conjured. Her throat was raw from all the speaking, but she couldn't stop. The words came tumbling out of her mouth as she spoke of her fight with Greyback, and she instantly felt better having shared her feelings with Bill.

She stood up, dusting her skirt, and conjured a wreath of red roses. She placed it on the grave, shivering slightly in the cool night, and whispered, "I-I will see you a-at ze—"

She couldn't complete the sentence. Her knees gave out, and she fell to the ground, tears cascading down her cheeks as she stared at the grey stone, the starlight casting an ethereal sheen on it. A wispy silhouette glittered in the distance, of a man smiling and waving at her, but Fleur could not tell if it was her imagination or not. Her hand reached up in the direction of the man, trying to reach out to beyond the veil and pull him back, as darkness claimed her.

o§o

They lay side-by-side on the grass in the shade of their tree, their bodies touching. Bill's bagpipes — which he played for her whenever they came here — sat by the trunk. She was twirling a strand of her hair when, suddenly, he sat up.

"Fleur," he said, "Did you slip some Firewhiskey into my drink or are you just getting hotter?"

She laughed. "'onestly, Bill. You poured us fresh water, and zat was ze only drink we had. And you have used zis line before, you know?"

He rubbed his chin. "Have I? All right, here's another one: Are you using the Confundus Charm or are you just naturally mind blowing?"

Fleur sat up, laughing. The wind blew her hair in her face, making her shiver, and she scooted closer to Bill. "You know you are a 'opeless romantic, but you are 'opeless at pick up lines."

Bill hung his head as if distressed by the news, which made her laugh even louder. When he looked up again, his face was so serious, she felt a shiver run up her spine. He stood up and held out a hand, which she held onto and pulled herself up.

"Not even Veritaserum could make me express how much I'm truly attracted to you, Fleur Delacour," he said, and her lips tugged up into a small smile. "I cannot imagine fighting the upcoming battles without you by my side… as my wife." Fleur gasped. "So, will you make me the happiest man on earth? Will you marry me, Fleur?"

She could feel her eyes stinging. Not trusting herself to words, she nodded, and his strong arms scooped her up in an instant. As her lips found his, he murmured, "For the record, I've already asked your father for the permission."

Fleur smiled, wondering what good she had done to deserve such a wonderful man.

o§o

She stared at her reflection in the mirror — a muggle one, as she couldn't stand the magical mirrors' comments. No one would deny she didn't look beautiful. She was wearing a sleeveless, plain, ivory gown with streaks of black. Her hair had been pulled back in an intricate french updo, and she was barefoot, her heels in her hands. With a sharp pang, she realised how much the situation was just like that day. She let the heels drop to the floor and turned away from the mirror as her father entered.

"I'm ready," she said.

"You don't have to do this, Fleur," his father said in a low voice, his tone wary as if he feared she would lash out at him. She sighed as she remembered how difficult it had been to make everyone see that this was what she wanted. That was before she had snapped and had effectively shut them up.

"I need to do zis."

Her father sighed. "Are you not going putting on your footwear?"

Her eyes turned to the black heels. She looked back at her father and shook her head.

"All right, let's go." She let her father take hold of her arm and picked up the instrument, and they apparated to the venue.

She could see the sun setting behind their tree under which the altar had been built. Her father, whose hand lay on her arm, sniffled at her side because he knew there was no one waiting at the other end. Near the front, Mrs Weasley was sobbing loudly.

She steadied herself and brought the pipes — Bill's pipes — to her mouth and the tune he always played for her sounded around the valley. She had never been any good at playing pipes, yet today, the tune came out perfect, magical notes floating in the air. Just like when Bill played. People looked at her, their emotions varied. She ignored them, and with firm steps, she marched down the aisle with her father.

She turned her attention to the altar, where Bill should have had been standing. The Minister for Magic, who was presiding over for the ceremony, was there. To one side, Bill's brother, Charlie, stood with the tiny box with the gold wedding bands in his hands. To the other side, her bridesmaids, Gabrielle and Ginny, waited for her, bouquets of white, red, and black roses in their hands, matching the flowers decorated Bill's bagpipes. Same flowers, the only decoration for the wedding, decorated the aisle and the altar — the red his as favourite, the white as hers, and the black… to mark his absence.

When they reached the altar, her father simply let go of her, as there was no one to place her hand into. She took her place, staring expectantly at the Minister, who sighed and started with the ceremonies.

When the time came to exchange the vows, Fleur closed her eyes, concentrating on the image of the man she loved. His voice filled her ears, and even though no one would believe her later, she could have sworn it was not her imagination.

'Fleur,' he said, 'I think I started to fall in love with you the first time I saw you. It was at the third task of Triwizard Tournament. I felt you would never fall for a British with all the handsome Frenchmen in your country. When you took up the job at Gringotts, it was like a dream come true. I loved how I could rile you up by just ignoring you. But Fleur, you do not need your Veela allure to draw me to yourself. I am yours, forever. I cannot swear to hold you when you fall, to feed and shelter you until I live, but I swear on the existence of my soul to be with you for the eternity, or until you grow tired of me. I love you, Fleur Delacour.'

Fleur opened her eyes, and she could feel the wetness of her cheeks. Looking at where his eyes would have been if he were here, she spoke: "Dream on, Weasley. You are not going to get rid of me zat easeely." She could hear the gasps coming from the crowd, but her attention was fixed to his image in her head. Her accent thickened as she spoke. "I theenk I started falling for you when I saw you at ze Tournament, too. I knew you worked at Gringotts, so I took ze job zere. Zen you asked me out after teaseeng me, and even zough I wanteed to say yes, I declined. But zat was ze beginning and 'ere we are. I swear on my magic, life, and soul, to be with you for ze eterneety. Je t'aime William Weezley."

Just as the Minister announced the exchange of rings, the box in Charlie's hand snapped open. Mist shimmered around the two rings, and the smaller one disappeared, reappearing on Fleur's finger a moment later. The people watching the ceremony gasped. A smile flickered to her lips as the other ring vanished.

The Minister stood there, his mouth agape. Charlie patted him on the shoulder, and he said: "I pronounce you husband and wife. You may now kiss the bride."

Out of instinct, Fleur leaned forward. A ghostly form shimmered into existence: an ethereal being whom everyone who had met the oldest Weasley sibling would have recognised as Bill Weasley. She felt a stunned silence descend on the gathering as his form solidified, and he leaned forward to wrap his arms around Fleur. They watched in awe at the terrible beauty unfurling before them. Fleur's lips met Bill's; all her senses around numbed, and she felt everything around them dissolve.

o§o


Hold on, ye great nerds... I've got explanations:

* — It isn't known if a part Veela can transform or not, but I believe that they would be able to, if the emotions are strong enough.

** — Yes, I know you can't apparate inside Hogwarts, but the wards were broken during the battle, so I assume there would be an exception this once.


I would like to thank my Beta, KianCalling, for looking this over and picking out the things I had missed.
You're awesome, KC!


Word Count: 3632

Prompts used:

From December Event: 12 Days of Christmas

• Partridge in a pear tree: Incorporate a tree (Christmas, forest of trees etc)
• Turtle doves: Write about 2 'love birds'.
• French Hens: Incorporate a member of the Delacour family.
• Gold Rings: Write about an occasion where gold rings are exchanged
• Geese a-Laying: Incorporate geese or a person 'laying' with another
• Swans a-Swimming: Write about swimming (learning to swim/an animal swimming etc)
• Pipers Piping: Incorporate someone playing the pipes

From Gringotts Wizarding Prompt Bank

• Wizarding occupation: Desk Job at Gringotts
• Pick up line: "Are you using the Confundus Charm or are you just naturally mind blowing?"
• Pick up line: "Did you slip some Firewhiskey into my drink or are you just getting hotter?"
• Pick up line: "Not even Veritaserum could make me express how much I'm truly attracted to you."
• Pairing: Bill/Fleur Delacour
• Potions/Ingredients: Dittany
• Weather words: Sea Breeze
• Single-word prompt descriptors: Raced
• Single-word prompt descriptors: Staggered
• Single-word prompt descriptors: Beautiful