Title: Christmas Spirit
For: This story is a present for Val/ChatterChick
House: Slytherin
Name: oh nargles/Tenzy
"You're sure about this?"
"Positive."
"Mum'll have kittens."
"We are married Bill."
"If you're sure."
Christmas at The Burrow was a tense affair, that Fleur noticed with a sigh. A sigh that was very much noticed by the woman to her left.
Molly Weasley was a woman Fleur admired. She had great tenacity and Fleur thought of her fondly, reminded greatly of her mother, but the woman to her left was not Molly Weasley. The woman to her left had been Molly Weasley but no longer was, and that saddened Fleur for a reason she could not describe.
It also gave Fleur determination. Determination to bring back life into the Weasleys.
They had all been trying, all of them, even George, the one that had lost his twin. It irritated Fleur that the Weasley matriarch had given up, enough to make her relapse into her roots and mutter in her mother language.
It had been a year, a year and seven months, Fleur had counted.
George's ear space seemed dull and pink, tears had dried up and Monsieur Weasley smiled.
Molly Weasley remained stubborn however, and in mourning.
It simply would not do Fleur decided, however much she was fond of Madame Weasley and the other witch gave her pause, the time for mourning had passed. It had passed not when the bodies where buried but the night when the tears came and pillows were shredded, Molly Weasley had done none of those things and Fleur had had enough of mourning.
"Are you happy Madame?"
The tension rose, if possible, and the others seated at the table rose their voices to suit the tension.
"Have you heard about the new Firebolt model that's out Harry?"
"I was on that a month ago Ron, took the liberty of getting us both ones with our names."
"Brilliant! I reckon I could finally - "
"Ginny could you pass me the marmalade?"
There was a pause there.
"Hermione it's dinner."
Hermione had the grace to blush.
"I mean, pass the salt please Ron."
The conversation continued and Fleur tuned it out in favour of glancing at Mrs Weasley.
"No."
The other woman's response startled Fleur, though she remained composed outwardly. She had expected the answer, except in more words.
Fleur sighed.
"What do you expect from me? My son died!"
The conversation continued to rise in pitch.
"Oi Ron, pass the salt!"
"It's closer to you George!"
"Harry did you get my memo from the Ministry, Kingsley said he passed it on to you."
"Did he? Oh yes! He did, I left it on your desk Hermione."
"Now Hermione you were telling me the function of a robot, how does one control a robot?"
"Right Mr Weasley! I'm not quite sure to be honest, robotics isn't my field of expertise. Dad knows a bit though, they just recently installed a robot that's supposed to automatically stamp papers."
"Where do they work again?"
"They're dentists, sort of like tooth healers."
"Ah."
Oddly it was Percy Weasley who broke.
"Right, now, everyone, I think we all need to just lower our voices!George get the salt, it's closer to you, no, wait, I need the salt, Ron, pass the salt. No, aargh, what I mean to say is, we all need to calm down."
Percy Weasley had always struck Fleur as the outsider of the Weasley family, when he spoke it was with a pompous attitude that grated on almost everyone's nerves. It had endeared Fleur at first, and then it had become irritating. Percy's outburst gave her a new form of appreciation for that particular Weasley.
"Oui, oui, might I suggest a Noel toast?"
The Weasleys looked confused for a moment before Hermione hastily explained.
Fleur shot the younger girl a grateful look before continuing.
"It's been almost two years since You-Know-Who - "
"Voldemort." said Harry almost instantaneously.
Fleur cleared her throat.
"Oui, Voldemort has fallen for almost two years now and I believe in the spirit of Noel we should relieve ourselves of burdens." Fleur shot a pointed look at Mrs Weasley.
Apparently Mrs Weasley had had enough.
"Now just what are you implying!"
It was a statement, not a question, and the other Weasleys sensed a storm.
Ignoring Bill's attempts to placate her Fleur drew herself up to her full height, dwarfing Mrs Weasley by more than a foot.
"I am not implying Madame Weasley, I am saying. I am saying this; your adamant refusal to let go is bringing down this family; your stubborn mourning for your lost son is causing you to neglect the ones you still have; how do you expect to raise a child in this environment of self-pity and death?"
Fleur waited with bated breath for a response, an outburst, a cry of anger. She did not expect tears. She had never seen Molly Weasley cry and was under the impression that although the woman was motherly and loving, she simply did not have time for tears.
"A - a child?"
Fleur caressed her stomach with a smile and nodded.
"Oui, a child."
