Part 8 - Fleur
Fleur Weasley loved her home at Shell Cottage. She and Bill had renovated the inside to their satisfaction, making it warm and cozy, and the perfect place to raise a family. But just as comforting to her was the scenery that surrounded her home. Wild and beautiful, the cliffs and the ocean that bordered her house gave her a sense of belonging. She hoped she'd never have to leave.
She stood outside the door, her hand cradling her swollen belly as she stared out toward the sea. Gray clouds hovered over the horizon, stark against the green grass and the blue of the ocean. Wind blew across the land, swirling the fabric of her skirt against her legs, while long strands of hair whipped across her face. She loved the feel of the wind. It made her feel strong and alive. She lifted her gaze to the sky and hugged her arms around her shoulders. She was finally at peace.
It hadn't always been this peaceful, she thought as she looked over at the grave Harry had dug to bury the house elf. Dark days veiled her life ever since she came to work at Gringotts, and then throughout her visit with Bill's family. Everyone was worried, even the goblins, but it didn't really seem to hit home until her Bill had been attacked. Fleur frowned at that memory. She had been so worried that he had died. She shivered and pulled the edges of her shawl tight to ward off the chill. Those were scary times.
But those days were over. She ran her hand over stomach and smiled down at the baby she carried. It would be a boy, she decided. And he'd grow up strong and capable, just like his father. Her smile turned into a frown as she turned her gaze back to the distant storm, the dark clouds swirling around reminding her of the war at Hogwarts. It had been cloudy that day, too,
She had almost lost Bill during that terrible war. She shivered again as she remembered the sight of him when everyone gathered in the main hall while they waited for Voldemort's final attack. Blood covered the sleeve of his shirt, but it was the feral look in his eyes that scared her the most. It seemed as if he enjoyed the battles he fought.
But he came back to her, Fleur reminded herself. The wild look in his eyes dissolved into sorrow, then he pulled her into a warm embrace as he buried his face into her neck and whispered that he was okay. The baby within her kicked as Fleur stared off into the distance. He had come back to her and now they had a baby to look forward to. A future filled with promise and life, a long way from the fear and death that shadowed them for so long.
That thought cheered her. She looked down again, but this time her gaze took in a patch of bright yellow iris that grew along the path. She reached down to pick one and brought it up to her nose to inhale the sweet flowery scent as the wind blew her hair back over her shoulder. This was her home, she thought with a contended smile. Always will be.
The baby kicked once more and Fleur rubbed her belly. "You will be safe, my little one," she crooned in her native language. Her gaze turned to the sky where she saw a ray of sun streaming down through a gap in the clouds. "We will all be safe."
