A/N: Fleur comes home late from work to a terrible sight.
Disclaimer: Nope, I don't own Harry Potter.
I come home late from my job at Gringotts, around one or two in the morning. As it is very dark, I have to cast a quick Lumos to be able to see. As soon as I open the door to our flat, I hear it. The wailing. It sounds like someone is crying. Frowning, I whisper, "Nox," shutting off the light eminating from my wand. Is there someone in the house? It can't be Bill. He is never up this late. I swallow. If he's asleep, then where is this sound coming from? I want to call out to see if it is Bill, but if it isn't, then I don't want them knowing who I am or where I am. I raise my wand, casting a non-verbal Homenum Revelio, and soon realized that there was only one person in the flat: Bill. "Bill?" I call out, into the darkness. "Bill, are you alright?"
The crying stops for a moment and then only continues. I turn the corner into the kitchen and see a figure standing above the sink, clutching the sides with both hands. I grab for the light switch with one hand, not bothering to look back. As the lights flicker on above our heads, Bill flinches visibly at the sudden change in brightness. He's sobbing, crying harder than I've ever seen, and he's drenched in blood. The scarlet stains cover almost his entire front, dripping onto the white tile floor. There's blood dripping from his hands and from his mouth, and I don't understand where it's all coming from. "Bill!" I gasp, rushing forward. "What 'appened? Are you 'urt?"
Every time I touch him, searching for some kind of wound, anything that would explain all the blood, he jerks away from me. "No," he whimpers, turning away from me. He raises his hand and swipes at his mouth, trying to erase all the red.
"Bill, love," I say. I want to comfort him, but he doesn't seem to want me to touch him. Why would he act like this? "What eez wrong? Are you bleeding?"
He just sobs louder, his entire body shaking. I can't stand to see him like this. What happened? My eyes drift towards the sink, and that's when I see it. It's an animal, some kind of furry animal, its insides brutally ripped out and its blood leaking all over the metal. I glance back and forth between my distressed husband and the mutilated creature, and somehow connect the dots. "Bill," I whisper, my words overpowered by his sobbing, "what 'appened?"
Although he is a very tall man, he seems to have shrunk into the demeanor of a child, his shoulders hunched and his hands on his head, bending his neck down and covering his face. "I-I-" He can't seem to get the words out. He hiccups once, makes a sound like a wail, and then falls to his knees, barely able to speak.
Not knowing what else to do, I kneel beside him and hold him to my chest, his head pressed into the crook of my neck. I shush him and stroke his head, comforting him as I would a child. I brush his red hair out of his eyes, running my long fingers over his face and through his hair, trying to wipe his anguish away. He sobs into me, clutching me like a lifeline and accepting my touch. It takes a while for him to calm down, but when he does, I am waiting. He is now hugging me, his forearms crossing over my entire back. When his irregular breathing subsides, I ask him one more time. "Bill." I say his name as softly as I possibly can, releasing him from the embrace and cradling his face in my hands. "What 'appened?"
When he speaks, it is as if he is forcing the words past his lips. "I was trying to surprise you," he explains. "I didn't eat any steak or meat. I wanted to be less of a monster...for you." He squeezes his eyes shut, the crease in his forehead deepening. He takes a shaky breath. "I blacked out. I-I—" He tries to curl in on himself again, but I stop him before he does. "I woke up and there was blood" —his voice breaks— "everywhere. All this blood, blood..." His eyes dance over the tile. "I'd killed it. I'd been eating it, and then I couldn't stop..." He looks down, disgusted, at his bloodstained hands. "I'm sorry, Fleur. I'm so," he whispers, "so sorry."
I gaze at him, stroking his face. "Love, you 'ave nothing to be sorry for. Now, I will clean you up, okay? Wait 'ere." I only move a few feet away to the shelf to get a towel. I only drop my eyes from him for a moment to run water over the towel. I wring it out so that it does not drip everywhere, and then kneel by my husband once more. I reach for his face with the towel to clean off the blood, but he jerks away before I can.
"It's okay, Fleur," he tells me quietly. "I can do it."
As he moves to take the cloth from my hands, I pull it out of reach. "Mister Weasley," I say, reminding him of how human he is, "I do not think you 'ave a choice. I will clean you." I touch the towel to his chin, and gently begin to scrub the blood away. He won't look at me as I do it, so I start to talk. "If you want to get zat shirt clean, Bill, zen we will 'ave to wash it now, before it dries. Okay?"
He doesn't reply, but after I finish his face, I move to unbuttoning his shirt. It's soaked straight through to his chest, so once I set the shirt into the bathroom sink to soak, I fetch a new towel and clean him, starting from his shoulders. He seems so small, so vulnerable. As I work, I notice he gets more and more relaxed, but also more tired, as if all of that crying took the energy out of him.
"I'm guessing you don't want to be married to me anymore," he says, looking me in the eyes with an intensely painful stare. "I'll leave in the morning."
Incredulous, I respond, "Why would you think zat?"
"You don't need me endangering you," he explains, wringing his bloodied hands.
"I love you, you stubborn mule!" I exclaim, louder than before, and he looks up, shocked. "When I said my vows with you, I meant I would love you no matter what!" I gesture to the scarlet towels lying on the floor. "When we say 'in sickness and in 'ealth,' I know zat zis is what we mean! Even if you were a werewolf, I would still love you just the same!"
His head is in his hands now. "I don't want to hurt you."
I put my fingers under his chin and lift his head. "You could never hurt me. Any werewolf could, but you can't." He still doesn't seem to understand. "I accept you for all your flaws, Bill Weasley. Zey make you stronger. I love you no matter 'ow much werewolf you 'ave in you."
"Say that again," he says, leaning into my touch.
"Bill Weasley," I repeat, outlining every scar with my fingertips as I speak, "I accept you for all of your flaws. I love you, I love you, I love you no matter 'ow much werewolf you 'ave in you." For the first time this entire night, I see him smile. "Je t'aime, Bill. Do not forget."
"Je t'aime," he murmurs back, like he does every night. "But—"
I kiss him before he can make any more excuses, and, to my surprise, he kisses me back.
A/N: Aw, I love Bill and Fleur. So perfect. Anyway, thanks for reading!
Challenges used:
Fanfiction Writing Month: December [1310]