I will not write Fleur's speech the way JK Rowling did, because as a French person, I find it insulting. Imagine Fleur rolling "r" or whatever floats your boat, because she does have an accent but the fics wouldn't be readable if it was all in "Fleur speech à la Rowling"
xoxox
The Goblin's name was Bogrod, and he went straight to business when Fleur went to him. She wasn't sure what she had expected, certainly not a welcome party, the selection process had given her a taste of what working at Gringotts would be like, but still…
She was brought up to the second floor, where a desk awaited her as well as a pile of paperwork, binding contracts she had to sign which stated in every terms imaginable and some she never would have thought of that she was not to talk about Gringotts business, and more forms covering more contractual obligations which all related to the safety of the bank.
There was something funny, though not in the hilarious sense of the word, about signing papers and contracts in order to ensure the security of the Bank. Her job was actually to ensure the bank's security, with all means possible.
Fleur had imagined she would be finding counter-spell to allow the use or storage of some artefacts, making them harmless or harmless enough before they entered the bank's vaults, but it turned out that her job would be a desk job as they called it. She would be revising, updating and coming up with new forms and new protocols to ensure the bank's security, all under the eyes of the Goblins in charge of her department who trusted the wizards who worked for them only as far as they could throw them. Fleur felt desperation at that realization but told herself that every great wizard who was good at his job had to start at the bottom or very near the end of the food chain, so that when successful, they would be able to say that they made their way to the top.
She sighed when she admitted to herself that she wasn't really buying what she was selling, but to keep a good face, she had to pretend. Goblins would not be moved by her using her sad face and she wouldn't get what she wanted, so time to suck it up.
She signed the contracts, even those she wasn't sure she understood, because it was a condition sine qua non of her working here, and it took her the better part of the morning. In fact, when she was done, it was time for her to leave her position: she would only be working half days, sometimes morning and sometimes afternoon, but she would not get a full day of work. It had pained her, but she supposed that having only half a day to think about the people she missed was as good as getting full days when she would work and full days when she would mop around. In fact, it was better otherwise she would probably have gone back to France every time she had two spare days in a row. She wanted to be strong but the part of her who was weak was a loud speaker and projected strong emotions.
She got up from her desk, trying to get back feelings in her neck and the top of her back, before going to find Bogrod. She knocked on his door and he barked for her to come in. It seemed that Goblins liked their wizards to work in open space but for themselves they fancied actual offices.
She came in and told him that she was done with the paperwork. She wondered if she had said things the proper way when he looked at her funny, and suddenly felt very uncertain about her proficiency in English, until he spoke:
"I suppose you didn't understand most of what you just signed."
She wanted to tell him that he was wrong and that she had understood everything, but she wasn't sure he was making a jibe about her English skills.
"Most wizards sign the paperwork and only later truly understand what they bided themselves too," he went on.
He didn't say it but she could hear the words about a Goblin never signing something he wasn't fully in control or in accordance with hanging in the room.
"I didn't understand everything, it is true. I was hoping to make copies and read them again tonight to make sure I do understand what I signed up for. You said the paperwork had to be done before I left, and I didn't want to be late on my first assignment, as I was sure that you wouldn't make me sign anything that was contrary to the terms discussed during the selection process, or something that was contrary to Gringotts procedures."
Completely honestly, there had been one point in that long convoluted answer when she hadn't been sure what point she was making or where she was at in the structure of the sentence, but she made it through, and he looked at her weirdly again. She wondered if what she considered a weird look was just an average look to a Goblin, maybe a thoughtful look, or who knew, maybe a bemused one.
"There will be no copies. Nothing involving Gringotts business leaves Gringotts. However, if you want, for this one time, you can come back after lunch break and go back to your desk to complete your reading and your … understanding," Bogrod said, as if looking for the proper way to be both kind and stern.
Maybe he wasn't even being kind. Maybe they just really insisted on everybody understanding everything they signed. When she had signed up for a vault upon arriving in London, the Goblin who had been in charge of her registration had explained everything in layman terms, sometimes to the point of being insulting as he had spelled out things way too simple to require an extra five minutes on their true meaning. Sometimes a word just meant one thing and you didn't need to ponder and wonder about its meaning for centuries.
Though she could only think right now of words who had more than one meaning, funny how the brain worked…
"Is that agreeable to you, miss Delacour?" Bogrod asked again, forcing to leave these thoughts behind.
She was about to answer when there was a knock on the door. It opened before Bogrod could have said anything and she saw that the Goblin wasn't pleased with this possible infraction on his privacy.
She turned to look at the intruder, and she almost gasped.
It was him, the man from the Triwizard tournament, the one who had visited Harry Potter before the Third task.
He was one of the few memories she kept of this year in her life that hadn't been tainted by what happened once they had been out of the maze.
He had stood out in the room where they were greeting their families, and he had certainly caught her eye. It wasn't the ponytail or the earring, though she supposed it did make him stand out from any crowd, but something else, an aura about him.
She may have only been a quarter Veela on paper but as Bonne-Maman Adelaide would say, her full blood Veela grandmother who had given birth to Fleur's mother, a Veela's power didn't depend on the amount of blood of such species in one's blood, it was about connecting with your inner Veela. When she had spotted that man at the Triwizard tournament, Fleur had felt even more in touch than ever with her inner Veela. Sadly, he hadn't glanced her way, or if he had, he hadn't been caught doing it. She wished he had, as she had wished back then. She had been terrified of the Third Task, after Gabrielle's involvement in the Second one, and she had looked for something, anything, to make her feel like she was not walking toward her probable death. A glance from him would have done the trick, but if nothing else, knowing that he was out there had put balm on her fears for a second then.
He looked at her and for the first time their eyes met. However, with a Goblin in attendance, Fleur couldn't afford to put on the Veela charm or sigh or do anything that would show this man that she was a woman and he should be worshipping at her altar, Veela blood or not. She only smiled briefly while blushing before lowering her head.
"Yes M. Weasley?" Bogrod asked impatiently, and Fleur was certain she had chosen the right way to act by not forgetting this was her workplace.
"I have to go for a couple of hours, I will catch up on any work I may leave unattended tonight and my performance will be as if I hadn't taken a longer lunch break than the other days," he told the Goblin, and she hid a smile when she finally really heard his voice.
It suited him, suave, but determined. She could tell he was no man one would want to play games with.
She did want to play games with him, but none he would object to, if she trusted her instincts.
"Something wrong?" She asked, raising her head to make sure he would look at her face when answering.
"My brothers acting up, Miss. I know you hate family related business, Bogrod, so I won't bother you with the details. I just need to talk to my parents to deal with this situation and be back to being effective when it's done."
"Be gone then and come back later. Be assured I will be checking on your workload today and what was done or not done that should have been dealt with."
"Yes sir," He answered, and with a short nod for Fleur, he got out.
"What about you, Miss Delacour, will you be back this afternoon to review the papers you signed?" Bogrod asked.
"Yes sir," she answered quickly, mimicking M. Weasley.
"You're dismissed then."
And he turned back to his own work. He was not kidding when using the word "dismissed", as he started acting as if she wasn't there. For a second she thought she had turned invisible. Taking her cue, she nodded and left the office.
She stopped on the other side of the door, her hear beating a thousand beats a second, from too much excitement. She had not expected to meet him here, but she would be lying if she said it was not a good surprise.
A couple of Goblins walked past her and she realized how foolish she must have looked. She went back to her desk, where she fetched her purse, and made her way out of the bank's offices.
Her mood had changed drastically, and she had a smile thinking about the rollercoaster this job was proving to be, between stressful superiors, underwhelming work (for now she hoped) and intriguing colleagues.
She walked in the streets of Diagon Alley browsing for a place where she would be getting her lunch. Several men turned and stared at her as she did so, and she had a small satisfied smile on her lips. That morning when she had arrived, she had been perhaps too stressed out to notice if anybody was noticing her in that way, but it definitely made her feel less like a foreigner.
Being noticed reminded her of home, and the stories Bonne-Maman would tell about her youth. She had been a player, though never taking things too far, and she had never been shy when it had come to telling her daughter or her granddaughters of her days as the Veela of the neighbourhood. She often would brag about the way she had been proposed to over a hundred times before her 18th birthday. Apolline hadn't been the recipient of as many proposals, but she usually blamed it on times changing, and the fact that at Beauxbatons, she hadn't been the only student of Veela heritage.
Ever since she was a little girl, Fleur had attracted stares, benevolent ones, then pointed looks of various kinds as she stopped being a girl and became a woman. It may have sounded like bragging if she had said it out loud, but she was used to people noticing her, and it was a bad day when she didn't make a boy trip on his robes, even back at Beauxbatons.
When she had turned 16, Papa had hired a muggle painter to make a painting of Fleur, the muggle way, as it was a quirk in her family, and whenever guests entered their house, they would stand transfixed in front of the portrait. It made Papa and Maman proud, and when Fleur had asked if perhaps she wasn't putting too much stock on her beauty, Maman had tssked.
"Ma chérie, there are things you have people will never have. You have great looks, and I'm not even talking about our inheritance. You have brains and you have wits. You are more than just your looks. That portrait is lovely because it is something your father and I see every day when we come home and you're away. I will not lie, we are proud to have had such a beautiful daughter but had you been a toad, we would have had your painting made anyway. You would have been the most precious toad to us no matter what."
Gabrielle was counting the days till she turned 16 too and her portrait would join her sister's on the entrance wall of the house.
Fleur finally chose a place to eat, and she pretended to not notice when boys and men alike tripped around her, though it did fuel her ego. She hadn't felt in touch with her Veela side ever since… Ever since she had come back from that bloody maze, but today, she finally felt like her old self.
She thought a lot about M. Weasley as she ate her meal. She wondered what his first name was, and if he would introduce himself to her. She wondered if she would have to ask him herself for his first name. She wasn't scared, nor shy.
She felt a shadow of doubt overcome her when she thought about the fact that he was older than she was. She remembered vaguely from Hogwarts something he had said about being there more than a couple of years ago. She hadn't been able to eavesdrop on his conversation, too busy to take comfort in Maman's and Gabrielle's presence.
Time would tell, she told herself.
She got back to Gringotts, showing her new shiny badge which allowed her access into the belly of the building, and she slowly made her way back to her desk. She was dreading reading all that paperwork again but she understood it was as good an exercise as any to help her strengthen her English skills. Furthermore, she wanted to win some respect from Bogrod by being able to tell him that she knew understood everything she had agreed to.
She took her seat, and started reading everything again, armed with a dictionary. Sometime later, she wouldn't have been able to say when, she heard the door of the offices open and she saw M. Weasley come back into the office space. He looked at her and she smiled shyly at him. He smiled back, and she felt the proverbial butterflies in her stomach.
Oh wait, she thought, when she crossed his eyes again later and again, was there any clause in all the papers she had signed about fraternization between colleagues? She started turning the pages with a renewed attention.