April 6 1998
"Look Harry, making agreements with Goblins is dangerous!"
"I know what I am doing Bill," said Harry and he retreated downstairs to join Ron and Hermione.
Bill glared at his descending figure. If Bill knew anything, he knew about Goblins. Working for them certainly gave one an insight into their makeup. Making a deal with a Goblin was risky. They were tricksters and always found a loophole in getting what they wanted. Harry might have saved the Goblin, but that did not guarantee that Griphook would give in so easily.
Bill sighed as Fleur called to him softly from the bedroom. He stormed into the room and slammed the door shut. His wife was sitting at the dresser, a letter in her hand and a brush in the other. A frown crossed her face and turned to him, her blue eyes swimming.
"What is it, love?" ask Bill, rushing to her side. She composed her features and gestured to the letter in her hand.
"It's from Gabrielle. She writes zat papa is very ill. He 'as caught a muggle disease called cancer, which our hôpital cannot cure. C'est très bizarre. But Gabrielle wants me to come and see papa before he passes."
Bill regarded his wife carefully as she told him of her father's illness. She refused to look at him and kept her beautiful head pointed to the floor, staring at the letter. Bill knew that she did not want him to think her weak.
The news of Monsieur Delcour's illness had a strange affect on Bill. He had only had the pleasure of meeting Fleur's family at the wedding, for they never had the money or the opportunity to travel to France. Although nowhere near as attractive as his half-Veela wife Apolline, Monsieur Delacour was a pleasant fellow who was stout in proportion with a short black beard. For such a jovial man to fall ill to an incurable disease was a terrible blow, and Bill was surprised at how brave Fleur was taking the news.
"Well then, when are you going?" he asked, wrapping his large hand around her dainty one.
"Don't be daft, Guillaume! How could you even suggest such a thing when zare is a war going on?"
"Because your father is ill, darling."
"Oui, papa est très malade," she said very softly, so softly that Bill lifted her chin to be able to hear her. "Mais, zeese things 'appen. I cannot leave you Guillaume. Not now. Not ever!"
"But love," said Bill, worried for Fleur's mental health. "Your father..."
'Non! Papa will die knowing zat his daughter was fighting to keep her family and ze rest of the wizarding world safe!" Fleur looked at Bill fiercely, her eyes blazing with tears and determination. She flipped her hair and stood straight with her shoulders back. At that moment, Bill thought she was the most beautiful creature in the world. "He will be proud to know zat I am not giving up! It will be what he wants! Gabrielle can go and comfort him for me with maman. But I? I will stay here with my husband and togezer, we will win zis war!"
Bill hugged her tightly and kissed her.
"That's my girl!" he beamed at her. "My beautiful, stubborn, French girl!"
"Je ne suis pas une fille, Guillaume. Je suis une femme!"
Laughing, Bill kissed her fiercely, pulling slightly on her lower lip. He loved it when she spoke French to him, even when he couldn't understand her.
"Love, you know I can't understand you when you speak French," he whispered in her ear.
"Exactement, ma cherie!"
They held each other's hands tightly and left the room.
Luna Lovegood rushed up to meet them.
"Fleur!" she said happily. "Daddy fixed the house and I am going to go back and live with him until I go back to Hogwarts! Dean is coming with me!" The girl was delighted, and continually jumped, pulling Dean Thomas by the hand. Her dirty-blonde hair bounced around her face. The boy looked less enthusiastic to be spending the rest of the holidays with the Lovegoods but he smiled along with Luna happily.
"Of course, ma cherie, zat is perfectly fine. You may stay as long as you wish!"
With an excited squeal, Luna pulled poor Dean outside to frolic in the sand.
Fleur laughed at them. She wished life was as simple as Luna made it out to be. How Fleur wished she was in France, braiding Gabrielle's hair and playing with dolls, like she did as a child. Times had changed; she was a married woman now, in the midst of a brutal war, and trying to protect her family. But Fleur knew that with her beloved Guillaume by her side, she would face this war head on and live to see her grandchildren grow.