A/N: French translations are at the end of each section. I really like the use of French in their relationship, but there doesn't seem to be an easy way to provide translations in text without breaking the flow of the story; I'm doing the best I can.

At first, Fleur didn't open her eyes. She lay still, letting consciousness slowly take shape. She had no memory of dreams, but there was a sweetness, a safe, comforting sort of resonance that filled her.

"Good morning."

She felt the whispered words as much as heard them, and realized her cheek was still against Bill's chest, her arms draped across him, one of her legs over his. Suppressing a yawn, she nuzzled against him, breathing in his smell, her eyes still closed.

" 'Ow did you know I was awake?"

He didn't answer, but she felt his hand rest against the top of her head, then slide over her hair and down her neck to gently rub her back.

"You're beautiful."

She opened her eyes and looked up into his.

"Because I am in love," she answered.

"So am I," he said quietly, running his hand through her hair again. "So am I."

Fleur shifted a little, scooting up towards Bill's head, so her face was next to his.

"I love you, William Arthur."

He smiled, a warm, youthful, untroubled smile that made something inside her swell with joy, and she couldn't resist kissing him.

"I love you, Fleur Isabelle."

"I love you," she said again, just for good measure, and because it felt so good to finally be able to say it.

"I'm sorry, Fleur." His face was suddenly more serious.

"For what?" She fingered one of his crimson locks, twining it through her fingers.

"For not telling you that from the start. For keeping secrets from you. For hurting you, for pushing you away. I'm sorry that we're in a war, and that things are going to be hard for us in the future." He paused, bringing his hand up to caress her cheek. "I wanted to save you from that pain, that darkness. But it was you who saved me."

"You saved me too, Bill," she said quietly. "I was so lonely...I hid behind a mask of pride, acted as though I was better zan everything, but it was all pretend...all a lie, so zat I did not 'ave to face ze truth, zat I was ze one not good enough.

"But you...I could not fool you. I 'ad everyone fooled, even myself, but...do you remember when we saw each other for ze first time? At 'Ogwarts, you were with Monsieur Bagman, and you looked at me across ze lawn?

Bill nodded slowly.

"It was as though you 'ad looked right through me...all zose years of building my facade, and in one moment you broke right through...and I started to realize 'ow lonely I was, 'ow frivolous and selfish..." Fleur trailed off, playing with a lock of Bill's hair, unable to meet his eyes. He didn't say anything, but silently pressed his lips against her forehead, stroking her hair with his hand.

"Maybe it is silly, but I think zat is when I started to fall in love with you. I kept thinking about you, wondering who you were, 'oping I might get a chance to see you again...but when I met you at Gringotts, I was afraid, afraid zat you would turn out to be just like all ze other men I 'ave known, zat I would 'ave come all ze way to England for nothing."

She felt suddenly embarrassed; she had not meant to say that last part, and felt herself blushing. But Bill lifted her chin to meet his gaze, and she saw both laughter and understanding in his eyes.

"Well now that you're here, I hope I can live up to expectations. We wouldn't want you to have come all the way to England only to find I wasn't worth the effort."

Fleur giggled in spite of herself, but soon became serious again.

"You were better...better zan I 'ad dared to dream," she said, very quietly. "It frightened me."

"Why?"

"Because...I was afraid I was not good enough for you. And when you kissed me on Christmas...it seemed to good to be true. I was afraid zat I would lose you, zat you would not love me, would not want me."

Bill shook his head, then kissed her forehead again.

"How could I not want you? You're the most amazing girl in the whole world." He kissed her temple, her cheek, the tip of her nose. "How could I not love you? C'est impossible."

Fleur smiled to hear her native tongue from the lips of the man she loved, and snuggled closer, wrapping her arms around his shoulders.

"Non, tu es l'homme le plus étonnant dans le monde," she murmured into his chest. His gentle hands spread across her back, caressing her, and she felt the slight roughness of his jaw on the top of her head. He was so comforting, so warm and secure, she felt herself almost starting to drift back to sleep.

"Would you marry me?"

At first she wasn't sure if she'd actually heard the words, or whether they had been the beginnings of a dream. Opening her eyes, she raised her head to look into Bill's face.

"Marry me?" he repeated softly.

For a minute, Fleur couldn't speak. She just stared into his grey blue eyes, which held that strange expression she had never known what to call, that she had first seen just before he kissed her for the first time. And suddenly she understood what it was, what it meant.

"Yes," she whispered, barely breathing. "Yes," she said again, feeling joyful tears well up, and torn between laughing and crying. "Amour de ma vie, oui, Je suis à toi pour toujours."

Bill was laughing too, and he wrapped his arms around her, rolled her over in the bed and kissed her.

"Tres merveilleux," he said quietly, between kisses, "Je t'aime."

"Pour toujours," Fleur repeated, as she kissed him back.

"Pour toujours," he replied.

Translations:

Non, tu es l'homme le plus étonnant dans le monde: No, you are the most amazing man in the world.

Amour de ma vie, oui, Je suis à toi pour toujours: Love of my life, yes, I am yours forever

Tres merveilleux: Marvelous, fantastic.

Pour toujours: Forever

It was with a strange sense of surreality that Bill went through his daily routine at work. Everyone seemed to know that something had happened at the Ministry late last night, but it was not in the newspapers (he suspected that the Ministry was still trying to compose its formal statement), and the rumors were still vague. Everyone just went about their day, apparently not knowing or caring that Voldemort had attacked the Ministry of Magic, that Sirius Black was dead.

Yet at the same time, he himself could hardly feel the weight of Sirius' death, borne up as he was on the joy of his engagement to Fleur. It was strange; after all the doubt he'd gone through about their relationship, the second guessing and guilt and wondering if he should even be with her at all, he suddenly found himself feeling remarkably sure. He hadn't planned to ask her. Thought about it, yes, but always in a distant, 'someday after the war' sense. But as they had lain there together, as she murmured his name and told him she loved him, he had suddenly realized that the point of no return was long since past. There could be no more pretending, no more doubts, no more secrets. And so in that moment the words had come to his lips straight from his heart, and though his mind may have been slightly surprised, it knew better than to interfere.

He caught glimpses of Fleur around the office that afternoon, and couldn't help but notice she seemed to be glowing slightly. Had she always done that? There was always that aura of Veela magic around her, but this seemed different, stronger. She saw him, and flashed him a brilliant smile that almost made his knees weak. A passing financial clerk tripped over his own feet, scattering files all over the floor. Bill couldn't help laughing as he helped him collect them; the young clerk had a glazed, slightly confused expression on his face as though he didn't know quite what had happened.

"You're a danger to society, you know," he murmured to Fleur, as she kissed his cheek in greeting.

"C'est la vie," she replied unconcernedly."But would you 'ave it any other way?"

"Never," he answered.

"Oi, Weasley." Antonio Benelli was standing in the hall, grinning. "I thought I sent you to pick up the security listings for the Bruges transfer, not to make out with pretty assistants in Arceneau's office."

Bill sighed dramatically.

"Duty calls."

"See you after work?" Fleur asked. Bill hesitated, lowering his voice.

"I can't, I have a...meeting."

She nodded in understanding.

"Come over later, zen? I want to talk to you about something."

Bill nodded, then left her with a last kiss on the cheek and followed his boss back to his own office.

"What did you do to her?" Benelli teased, still grinning.

"What do you mean?"

"Eugene's been complaining all morning. Apparently ever since she came in she's been glowing like that, and he says his male staff are completely useless, and he can barely concentrate himself when she's in the room."

Antonio looked positively delighted at his colleague's inconvenience. Although Bill had come to realize that Benelli and Arceneau were fast friends, the two disagreed on practically every issue one could hold an opinion about, and seemed to take pleasure in antagonizing one another.

"What does that have to do with me?" Bill asked, feigning ignorance though he knew his boss wasn't fooled. Benelli just rolled his eyes.

"Come on Bill, it's completely obvious. The way she looks at you, anyone would think you had enchanted her."

C'est la vie: Such is life.

If the reality of Sirius' death had been hard to comprehend during the day, it returned twice as heavy that evening, when Bill arrived at Grimmauld Place. The Order trickled in to sit around the large table, all looking rather despondent. Mad-Eye was present, looking meaner and more grizzled than ever, as was Tonks, though she looked sickly and had to take a sip of healing potion every half hour. It wasn't until everyone had sat down that Bill realized they had, as usual, left an empty seat between Remus and Arthur. But there was no-one to fill it. Sirius was gone forever, with his bark-like laugh, his youthful smile that shone unexpectedly from his wasted features, his hoarse voice that would never again be heard in the halls of his ancestral home.

Molly was fretting anxiously, her husband murmuring quiet words of soothing in her ear. Dumbledore arrived last, his face grave and careworn, and looking older than Bill had ever seen him. He did not sit down, but looked at the empty chair for a long time. At last he spoke.

"Let us stand and remember Sirius Black." There was a scraping of chairs as the Order rose to its feet, Tonks a little shakily and helped up by Remus.

"A man of passion, of courage, of loyalty and honor. A brilliant student, who nonetheless had far more fun while at school than was strictly allowed." At this Remus, who's expression had been one of bitterness and sorrow, actually cracked the slightest of smiles.

"A man who should have lived in peace, but was imprisoned for a crime he did not commit, rejected by those who should have defended him, who nonetheless persevered beyond all hope. Who should have enjoyed his amazing second chance, surrounded by friends until old age, but whose life was cut tragically short."

Dumbledore gestured with his wand, conjuring a bottle of firewhiskey along with many small glasses, which filled themselves and floated over the table towards each of the members of the Order.

"He was the best friend a man could ask for," said Remus quietly, as he reached for his glass. Others round the table nodded in agreement.

"To Sirius Black," Dumbledore said, raising his glass, and the rest of the Order followed him.

"To Sirius Black." They drank to the memory of a friend, of a comrade in arms, who had fallen before his time fighting for those he loved. Bill saw Snape, inconspicuous in the shadows near Dumbledore, scowling, examining his still full glass. The potions master's longstanding enmity with Sirius was obvious, but after a brief moment of hesitation, Snape lifted the glass to his lips and drank. Dumbledore stood in silence after finishing his own drink, then joined the rest as they sat down.

"I am sure that everyone present understands the gravity of our current situation," he said at last. "Voldemort has at last returned openly; the war has begun in ernest. We will have hard times ahead of us, and I am not naive enough to hope that Sirius will be the only one to leave an empty place at this table before they are over. However, we must address some of the most pressing circumstances first. Unfortunately, I am no longer certain that this house is secure. Black tradition decrees that it passes to the eldest male heir bearing the name, but Sirius was the last of his line. We must therefore find his will; I expect he will have left his possessions to Harry, but it is possible that ownership of the house will pass instead to his eldest living relative, Bellatrix Lestrange, whatever Sirius has put in his will."

There was a murmur around the table as Dumbledore spoke, and Tonks gave a shudder.

"So dear old Aunt Bella could just show up at any moment?"

"How do we find out?" Remus asked.

"First we must examine the will," Dumbledore continued, "but if Harry has inherited the house he will also have inherited Kreacher; I will be able to determine whether this is the case fairly easily. In the meantime, I suggest that we vacate Grimmauld Place until its ownership can be ascertained"

"We can accommodate meetings at the Burrow if need be," said Arthur.

"The school year ends next week," added Molly, "Harry can come home with us; I expect we'll have found Sirius' will by then."

"Thank you for your hospitality, Arthur," said Dumbledore. "Unfortunately, Harry must return to his relatives home this summer for at least a fortnight. He is protected there by the ancient magic I invoked over that house. However, I may have need of him in a few weeks time, and will determine whether it is safe for us to return here before bringing him to you, Molly."

"So what's Fudge's new position, now his head's been finally dragged out of the sand?" Moody growled.

"I believe the ministry is preparing an official statement, to be released Sunday," Dumbledore answered. "Once they do, of course, I doubt that Cornelius will retain his office much longer."

"Rufus Scrimgour's already got his eyes on the job," said Kingley.

"At least the Order won't have to hide from the ministry any more," Emmeline Vance commented. She had been found unconscious in a storage closet at the ministry, having been stunned by the Death Eaters infiltrating the department of mysteries, and was quite put out about it.

"I'm afraid that may be little consolation, now that Voldemort is free to act openly; but Severus can say more on that point." Dumbledore gestured to Snape, who nodded before addressing the Order at large.

"The dementors are under the full control of the Dark Lord, and have begun to leave Azkaban already. I expect by next week they will have deserted the prison entirely and spread across Britain. The Dark Lord has also been successful in bringing at least two giants to join him. He will first move to inspire fear, with murders and chaos; his blows will land heaviest on the muggle population to begin with. He wants wizarding Britain afraid and uncertain, not united against him."

"He did not hear the rest of the prophecy he so eagerly was seeking." Dumbledore picked up where Snape left off. "In the midst of his campaign of terror expect he will continue to look for an opportunity to attack both Harry Potter and myself in particular. The Order should maintain a presence at Hogwarts, in addition to working reactively against Voldemort's actions."

"We're always reacting," Mad-Eye grumbled, "and it's never enough. We ought to be working to defeat him altogether."

"Be assured, that is my deepest concern," Dumbledore answered cryptically, "but it is not the work of the Order at this time."

Bill meant to apparate straight to Fleur's flat as soon as the meeting was over, but his mother caught his sleeve.

"Bill dear, can you come over this weekend to help us move back? Ron and Ginny are getting back on Thursday, and Ron wants Hermione to come stay with us the week after - and of course Harry will be coming as well. I'd like to be all moved in and settled before they get here." Bill nodded

"I'll come over Saturday afternoon."

Fleur practically skipped home after work, dropping by her fiancé's office for a kiss. He had a meeting with the Order of the Phoenix tonight, but he said he'd come over around eight. Her fiancé - the word made her fingers tingle with excitement. It was almost hard to believe that she was actually engaged, and to the most amazing man on earth.

Feeling she must tell someone or else explode with happiness, she found a sheet of parchment and began writing a letter to her family, to share her good news. She had told her parents about Bill of course, but always said a little less than she could - everything had seemed so new and uncertain, and she didn't want to get her own hopes up too high. Although her mother had included a few pointed questions in her letters, she seemed to understand Fleur's hesitancy, and was tactful in her comments. Now there was no need for such discretion, and when she had finished she was not entirely sure that her parents would be able to read the letter; her handwriting was rather larger and much messier than usual, and she had used quite a few more exclamation marks than was grammatically appropriate.

When Bill finally arrived, she ran to the door, flinging it open and leaping into his arms.

"Steady on," he laughed, carrying her back across the threshold, nudging shut the door behind him. "You'd think you hadn't seen me for three weeks, not three hours."

"But without you, ze hours feel like years," she answered unashamedly, covering his mouth with hers. Bill shrugged out of his jacket and her feet touched the ground again, drawing them towards her bedroom.

"I love you," he said against her lips. Fleur deepened the kiss, her hands trailing down to unbutton his shirt as Bill's found their way under her blouse. She let her fingers wander over his chest, then began to unfasten his belt as her back pressed against the bedroom door.

"Je t'aime aussi," she murmured between kisses, "J'adore." Her voice trailed into a whimper as his hand slid up her stomach and his lips moved down her neck. "Je te veux, mon mari."

Bill paused, raising his head back to meet her eyes.

"Are you sure?" His expression was tender but serious. "It's so soon...we're in the middle of a war, you have-" but she silenced him with another kiss, holding her lips against his. At last she pulled away, looking back into his eyes.

"Zat you will be my 'usband? I 'ave never been more sure of anything in my life."

"What about...I mean, do you think we should...wait?" He glanced down at her hands, hovering in the act of unbuttoning his trousers. "Till we're married, I mean..."

"What is a wedding?" she asked softly, their faces just inches apart. "Family and friends, flowers and pretty dresses. Ceremony, with rings and speeches and tears, and it will be beautiful. But it is not a marriage." She lifted her hand to touch just over her heart, then laid her fingers against his chest. "Zis," she whispered, "zis is a marriage. Tu es le seul pour moi, et Je te veux. Ce soir. Pour toujours."

Bill covered her hand with his then imitated her, resting his palm over her heart. The tips of their noses brushed together as, ever so softly, he touched his lips to hers.

"Pour toujours."

Je t'aime/aussi: I love you/too

J'adore: I adore you

Je te veux: I want you

Mon mari: My husband

Tu es le seul pour moi, et Je te veux. Ce soir. Pour toujours: You are the only one for me, and I want you. Tonight. Forever.