Prompt 10. Beautiful
Characters: Fleur Delacour, Bill Weasley
Disclaimer: I do not own anything under the Harry Potter franchise. This is fan written for fans to read. No copywrite infringement intended.
Sorry for the delay in updating!
Sometimes, Fleur hated her face. She hated that she was always the pretty one. She was never the funny one. She was never the kind one. She was never the talented one. Even when she had the opportunity of a lifetime to prove herself – the Tri-Wizard Tournament! – she was never seen to be on par with the other champions. The Goblet of Fire itself had chosen her to be the Beauxbatons champion; did that not prove she had magical talent, intelligence and quick thinking? That she was more than a pretty face?
But no. She was just the pretty champion. She was never the brave champion. Never the clever champion. Never anything more than a pretty face. Even that boy, the fourteen year old Harry Potter was taken more seriously than she was. Though admittedly, after the first task she had understood why – such a talented flyer! – but she could not have helped being extremely jealous of the easy way he had received such high marks, even with an injury and the possible breaking of the no-object-is-allowed-in-the-dragon-enclosure rule.
The Yule Ball had passed as expected: boy after boy after boy staring, and not too few girls either, a mix of lust, adoration and jealousy on their faces. Half wanted to have her for themselves, the others despised her for the looks she could not control. So she disappeared into the darkness of the grounds of Hogwarts Castle with her date, and kissed. It was easier, there, under the cover of night, to believe he was kissing her for her personality, not her face.
Then the second task had come and the Potter boy had proved again that he was as brave and resourceful as a wizard three times his age, whilst she had been overcome by those devious Gindylows. She had failed to protect her sister, her brave Gabrielle. This was the first time she truly doubted her place in the completion. If she couldn't protect her own sister, was she worthy of eternal glory?
It took her a long time to get past her new-found insecurity. She had to, in the end. The third task – the final task, thankfully – needed all her attention. In the hours and days she spent preparing, practicing hexes and charms and incantations, Madame Maxine was always there. Complementing and criticising both, she builds up her confidence and spell work again.
It is in the afternoon of the task that it happens. She sees him. He's tall and his bright hair is pulled back into a low ponytail, but that's not what attracts her. It's the way he talks to Harry Potter, chatting to him as if he were an equal and not a child ten years his junior. It's the way he acts around his mother, holding the door open for her on his way out. It's the way he smiles at her, as if she were his friend and not a complete stranger.
She's so caught up in a whirl of emotions when she leaves for France that she can't be too disappointed that she didn't even share one conversation with Bill Weasley (she overheard one of the Hogwarts students calling his name). The sudden, unexpected murder of Cedric Diggory, a boy she had grown to like very much over the past year leaves her shocked and grieving, with strong desire to do something, anything, to prevent any more people dying.
So she packs her bags and goes back to Britain, applying for a job in Gringotts. Even Goblins appreciate the value of a witch with two languages, and she starts training to be a liaison between the British and French Gringotts branches. The constant exposure to English helps her language skills immensely, but she still makes mistakes. After several embarrassing situations, her supervisor suggests taking lessons with another member of staff.
"Here's someone who's up for it. He's around your age and very nice," He said, handing her a piece of parchment with directions to an office. "His name is Bill Weasley. Have you met him?"
She holds the parchment to her chest, remembering the smile he had sent her three months previously. He had been the first man she had ever met who had not smiled at her beauty. Her heart thudded. Her day suddenly looked much more beautiful.