Fleur laid in her single bed and stared at the ceiling. She had arrived in England a few weeks before, travelling from her home in France for her summer internship at Gringotts bank. She had felt rather fortunate to receive the position. Her year in Scotland had made her realise just how lacking her English ability was and she was determined to do what she did with every other adversity in her life: meet it head on.
Her parents had not been so supportive of the journey at first.
"You have just been in Scotland for a year! Why do you need to go to London?" Her father had asked, but she had stood her ground and insisted that English was a valuable skill that she would need to perfect if she was to get a respectable job.
Her Father had agreed, rather begrudgingly after a while and given her the funds required to rent a room in a girl's house near the bank. Her room was nothing special, but it was enough to keep her warm and dry, and it had a bed for her to sleep in and desk to study at. It was suitable for her needs.
She had found herself in a strange predicament since the TriWizard tournament. Whenever her mind was not focused on anything specific, all she could think of were dragon hide boots and fang earrings.
She shook her head, sitting up on the edge of the bed. She had only seen him once, one time and he had barely even looked at her back then. But could she blame him? He was there to see Harry Potter and when the chosen one was around, everyone else sort of faded into the background.
She huffed, she had no idea of his name or who he was or where he had come from. But from the moment he had stepped foot in that tent, her mind had been fixed on him, with his shaggy hair and his stained shirt.
Fleur was never one for crushes or boys. Her father had forbidden any sort of dilly dallying until she was old enough for him to pick a husband for her. She had always thought it rather unfair, but that was the thing with old money, their ways were set in concrete.
She had not whispered a word of her fascination with the ginger man. She knew if she had, her father would have scorned her and reminded her that her eighteenth birthday had just passed and she would soon be married off to some wealthy wizard who she had never met before.
So, she went to London, in an attempt to release herself from such tyranny of her family and to carve out a life of her own.
Bill sighed as he placed a hand on a thick leather bound book that he had yet to crack.
"I know, I know. But they need me." He spoke to himself. His father had begged him to come home and assist the order of the phoenix after the return of you-know-who. He had been gone in Egypt for all of his adult life. So he thought it would be pretty crappy if he refused them now, in such a time.
So, he agreed and found a position in the Diagon Alley Gringott's. He wanted to remain in the life that he had forged for himself. But, his family needed him, so he would go.
He was grateful that Dumbledore had taken care of his accommodation, offering him a room in the Order's headquarters. Bill was by no means a wealthy man. He had chosen a career of passion rather than that of wealth and thus had not acquired many assets.
The house was grand, tucked inside of a powerful charm. He slung his leather trunk on the bed and then heard footsteps down the hall. This was an unknown and new place for him, so he unsheathed his wand and prepared himself for a battle.
"Put that down, you daft plonker." His dad cried and Bill chuckled, shaking his head.
"I've only come to check that you arrived alright." He explained and Bill nodded, pulling his dad into a hug.
Molly Weasley had come along too, making tea and buttering scones at the rather ancient dining room table.
"When are you starting at Gringotts?" His mother asked and he told her the following morning.
"It is lucky that they offered you a position." She nodded into her tea and he supposed she was right.
"Yes, there are not enough bedrooms at the Burrow for me to go there over summer." He joked and Molly nodded.
"Quite right." He wanted to ask about what his family wished for him to do for the Order. But nothing was said.
"When he needs you, Dumbledore will call." Arthur whispered and Bill nodded firmly. When he was called, he would go.
His parents didn't stay long and once they left, he found the house rather empty. Sirius said he came and went as he pleased and apart from that, no one took up in the house apart from Bill. He wondered if it was right, for a single person to be cooped up in such an old empty house as this one. But, he had no other choice.
Fleur clutched her messenger back close to her body as she wandered down the cobbled streets of Diagon Alley. She had never been there before and the onslaught of sights and sounds and smells made her eyes widen in shock.
She tucked her head down and followed the map that the goblin from Gringotts had given her. The streets were winding and confusing, each with a more peculiar name than the last. But finally, she looked up and saw the craning body of the bronze dragon guarding the bank. She had seen it once before, very briefly. But now, she gazed up at it in wonder.
Before she could lose herself in the details of the nose and the claws, she took a deep breath and proceeded into the bank, with her head held high in a false sense of confidence.
The bank was run by goblins, and although many were made uneasy by their seemingly mean tempers, Fleur had grown up near a goblin family and she knew their ways. She sent the short man a curt smile as he came to collect her.
"This way." He grunted at her and she took no offence. They were curt and short, she was sure that she would sooner hear silence from a goblin than a complex sentence.
She heard her thick-soled shoes squeak on the fine marble floor. She was sure her mother would have insisted on her wearing some awful grey three piece something. But she was not under her mother's roof anymore and she thought the jumper and dress, with her black tights was professional enough, and it seemed the goblin also didn't mind.
The sound of coins clinking together filled the large space.
"Your daily duties will be to run errands for the managers." He told her and she nodded, there was nothing a goblin liked more than a silent response. What was the point of speaking when a nod of the head could have the same effect?
She hadn't imagined that she would be handling money or dealing with customers, but the idea of fetching coffee and filing papers made her deflate a little. But it was all practice, that was how she had to view it.
They stopped at a little wooden desk and she placed her fingertips on the surface.
"This is yours." He told her and she nodded.
"Thank you." She offered him a small politeness and saw something she had never seen before. She was sure, if her eyes were not mistaken, that the goblin blushed, ever so slightly.
She waited for him to be out of sight before she peered down at the chair behind the desk. It seemed comfortable enough. The leather had worn down where its previous owner had obviously kept it for many years. She wondered who they were, and why she was now taking ownership of their position and their chair.
The paperwork on the table was rather mundane. She read through the letters and found it easy enough to respond accordingly. There were a few words that she needed to pull her French to English dictionary for. But for the most part, the work was simple and she found herself relaxing back into the old worn-out chair.
Bill scurried along. He knew when he woke up that he was going to be late. He pulled on the laces of his boots as he rushed out of the door and fastened his buttons as he ran through Diagon Alley. He hated being late, but the time difference was getting to him and he had been up most of the night, thinking of curses that he had left in Egypt.
When he arrived, the goblin who met him made no mention of his tardiness or his unkempt appearance. He simply started waddling away and turned to check if Bill was following, which he did.
They started walking through hallways and locked doors and down into the vaults of Gringotts. Goblins were not one for chatting and Bill huffed as he looked around, what a boring lot they were.
At last, they walked through a final door and he was met with a familiar face. Her nose was scrunched as she fingered through a dictionary and he tried to pinpoint where he had seen such a beautiful person before.
"This is Fleur. She will be the assistant this summer. You may ask her for any assistance." The goblin announced and the girl looked up. Bill was knocked from his axis. Her wide crystal blue eyes, the way her hair curled around her shoulders, she was far finer than any assistant he had been provided in Egypt.
It was him, Fleur couldn't believe it. Fang swinging from his ear and bronze amulet hanging from his neck, it was really him. He smelt of patchouli and mint and she felt her mouth fall agape as she looked up at him.
"This is William Weasley." The goblin told her and she sent him a small smile.
"Please don't hesitate to ask for anything you might need." She told him in a shaking voice and he thrust his hand towards her.
"Please, call me Bill." He told her and she placed her hand in his, across the desk. His hand was so large, encircling hers completely. He was warm and his skin was chapped and she shivered a little when he touched her.
He was in awe of her. Her fingers were so soft and slight, so different from his own. He held her hand for entirely too long, holding the stare of those ocean blue orbs, he felt rocked to his core.
"Mr Weasley." The goblin broke Bill from his trance and he was ushered along to his working space.
He was shown books and lockets, all cursed enough to give his experience a run for its money. Although he looked, he didn't really see any of it, all he could see was blonde hair and blue eyes and brown summer dresses with soft hands. He had never liked women, always thought of them as too much trouble to take seriously, but this one had him wrapped around his finger, with a single touch.