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FLEUR DELACOUR of the Harry Potter novels.
Werewolf bites were notoriously brutal. They had a way of destroying not just skin and flesh but lives as well. Dawn had seen it happen – had seen families fall apart, relationships end. So many times the newly turned gave up – choosing a sixty floor drop, a silver blade or a bullet over a life suddenly deemed too difficult. She didn't think Bill Weasley was going to be one of them though. From the look of it his family would rather walk through fire than abandon him. As for relationships...well...
Dawn glanced across the hospital wing to where Fleur sat poised as ever on the edge of her fiancé's hospital bed, her hands cradling one of Bill's larger ones in a tender grip.
No one, not even Mrs Weasley who Dawn had heard had been dedicatedly cynical about her future daughter in law's feelings for her son, could now say Fleur was not absolutely devoted to Bill. It was amazing what a vengeance killing could do to appease doubt.
Fleur had been called not long following her final exams at Beaubuxtons. When Dawn had finally tracked her down it was to find a stunningly beautiful and just as stunningly resolute slayer. When the situation had been explained Dawn had been surprised when the offer to come to the London Slayer institute had been accepted so quickly. It was the training that had prompted Fleur's move to wizarding London and not 'too improve her Eenglish' as was so often claimed. The job working at Gringotts had been her idea also. Just because she was now a Slayer, she said, did not mean she intended on giving up her world.
Dawn had been there the day Fleur had returned to the institute after meeting Bill Weasley for the first time. She had seen the brilliant, love struck smile first-hand the night after their first date. To her, Bill and Fleur seemed made for each other.
And then the attack...and the aftermath...
It had all come to a head three days following the incursion into Hogwarts. Albus Dumbledore's funeral was forthcoming, Hogwarts was repairing its wards, Harry Potter's name was once again splashed all over the papers...and amongst all this, Bill Weasley had taken a turn for the worse.
Fleur had called her in tears and Dawn had hopped a train to Hogsmeade that same day.
When she'd arrived Fleur had promptly thrown herself into her arms.
If there was perhaps one thing Dawn had had the most trouble getting used to concerning Fleur Delacour it was her penchant for the dramatic. At first it had annoyed her – the way the girl swept through life like a spotlight was on her and a camera rolling. Eventually though she came to accept it as just the way Fleur was. And despite the little hissy fits, the sometimes haughty comments and the perpetually ridiculous accent Dawn had come to love her Slayer. Fleur was perhaps the most genuine person Dawn knew. When you were in her heart you were in it forever.
This was perhaps why Dawn could understand that what was happening to Bill was tearing the girl up inside.
It had taken some pointed credential-flashing before she was told anything and then the news wasn't good. Bill's body had begun to fight the poison trying to penetrate his tissue and seemed intent on succeeding no matter the cost. His own immune system was killing him.
They needed the werewolf that had bitten him, they were told. They'd needed Greyback. There was no turning back from what Bill was now becoming – their only hope for saving his life was to flood his system with the poison invading it – let the werewolf virus win.
Predictably this had caused a bit of an uproar. Bill's mother especially had been very vocal about exploring 'alternatives' until calmed by her husband – her outcries turning into broken sobbing. Dawn hadn't noticed Fleur's silence beside her, not until the girl let go of her supportive hand and stood. Dawn had watched, her trepidation rising, as Fleur crossed through the chaos of wizarding doctors and relatives to stand by Bill's bedside. Bending down, the girl had smoothed a lock of hair from his forehead as she whispered in his ear before placing a gentle kiss where her fingertips had skimmed a moment before. The look she'd settled on Dawn as she turned around was undiluted slayer.
"We don't know where he'd be," Dawn had said, already knowing the protest was futile. Whether it was something in her voice or just the vibes rolling off her slayer, all conversation stopped and all eyes were on Fleur as the girl had cocked her head and smiled a feral smile Faith would have been proud of.
"But we can find out."
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It had become apparent early on that locator spells were going to be useless. Greyback was under Voldemort's protection, and as such very little could touch him magically. It had been a setback sure, but not a major one. As Willow always taught – magic only made things easier – there's always another way, often more satisfying in the long run. As Dawn had watched Fleur put her fifth demon through a wall while 'questioning' it she couldn't help but think the slayer would have agreed with the sentiment.
In the end it took them a little over six hours to track the warewolf's den. Protection from magic was all well and good but Greyback was still a werewolf – still leaving ripples in the demonic population of London. And pain was an amazing motivational tool however you looked at it.
The clash with Greyback's pack was short, brutal and bloody. A pack of former wizards, the wolves had been prepared for a magical assault if any – being faced with a stunningly pretty blonde slayer wielding an axe and her tranquiliser gun-toting watcher had made them pause, which was just enough to make them dead or unconscious. Greyback himself was the hardest to fell. It had taken three darts and a lopped off arm before he went down.
Dawn didn't think she'd ever forget the looks on Bill's family's faces when they'd strode through the doors to the hospital wing, Greyback's bulk slung over one of Fleur's shoulders like a bag of rice. Actually she didn't think she'd ever want to. Sometimes the slayer gig proved wildly entertaining and there was nothing like shocking the locals to add a bit of fun to the mix.
If Fleur had thought anything of her blown cover she hadn't said anything. Her time since their return had been faithfully spent at Bill's side, watching as his breathing evened out and his colour returned. Watching as the man she loved came back to her albeit a little changed from the one she once knew.
It was a good sight. Perhaps not the perfect ending – knowing the trials Bill was to face, Dawn could never call it thus – but it was enough for now.
