Bill bolted upright when he heard the front door open and then subsequently close. The only people who knew the location of the house were Dumbledore's inner circle. But nevertheless, he unsheathed his wand and made his way to meet whoever had entered.

Sirius jumped when he saw the whippet of a boy round the corner.
"Put that away." He yawned, rubbing a hand down his face. Bill immediately slid the wand into the back of his trousers and went over to Sirius.
"Bill Weasley, as I live and breath." Sirius shook his head, pulling him into a friendly embrace.
"When I last saw pictures of you, you were still in your nursing clothes." He chuckled, shaking his head.

He had noticed the extra pair of shoes at the door, but he didn't mention it, until he and Bill were sat in the living room.
"They're Fleur Delacour's." Bill explained and Sirius cocked his head with confusion.
"The French girl?" He asked and Bill nodded.

He felt anxious, wondering if he had put Fleur in danger by bringing her there.
"I don't need to tell you how secret this place is, do I?" Sirius asked and Bill shook his head.
"It is my future wife we are talking about. She should know where I live." He told him and Sirius furrowed his brows.
"Wife? Are there congratulations in order?" He asked and Bill floundered for a moment.
"Well, she doesn't technically know that she will be my wife. I am working on that part." He admitted and Sirius chuckled, slapping his hand on his knee.
"Well, if you're that serious, then she is welcome to stay. But I hope you know what you have dragged her into." He told him as he stood to go and get some sleep in the master bedroom.

Bill huffed as he watched Sirius go. What had he brought her into? This was a war, a dangerous place and time to be and he had actively brought an innocent into that. But that wasn't true, was it? The moment she had seen Cedric Diggery's lifeless body she had been a part of it. In his eyes, he was simply inducting her into an organized unit, a body of people who could keep her protected and safe. That thought settled his anxiety slightly.

Fleur groaned as she heard knuckles rapping at the door. She turned in the sheets and remembered where she was. She felt her cheeks turn pink as her nostrils were filled with the scent of musk and mint.

When she glanced at the ajar door, she flushed even deeper. Bill was stood there in his shirt and trousers, with a nervous expression on his face.
"Come in." She invited him and felt rather strange, inviting him into his own room. He strode across the space and perched on the edge of the bed.
"Did you rest?" She asked him and he ran a palm over the back of his neck.
"As much as I could. It wasn't the most comfortable rest of my life." He admitted and she furrowed her brows.
"You come and sleep here, I'm happy to read one of the books you have." She told him and he began shaking his head.
"That is not a request." She told him and he looked over at her as she pulled the blanket off of herself, clearly forgetting that she was dressed in just her turtle neck and underwear.

She made her way over to the small bookcase and began scanning the editions. She felt a breeze on her legs. She was sure she had kept on her-

She froze as she looked down at her nude legs. She turned back to Bill, her face the shade of a Durmstrang uniform and was relieved to see him under the blanket, turned away from her.

Bill placed his hands over his face as he turned to the wall. He had never seen anything as magnificent as Fleur's legs. Sure, he saw them when she wore her dresses, but they were always hidden by tights and skirts and the like. Yes, future wife most certainly.

Fleur quickly picked out an adventure novel and bounded back to the bed, sitting at the edge, with her back against the wall, and pulled the blanket over her legs. She was grateful that she had kept her turtleneck on. The idea of him seeing her naked breasts…

The thought set her alight and that scared her more than the incident itself. She had never wanted a man to see her like that before. But she found that she didn't mind so much, if Bill had seen her in her underwear.

Bill soon lost himself in the land of dreams, which was filled with dragons and French girls and curses. It was all rather adventurous, but then suddenly, it all fell black and he descended into an even deeper realm of sleep. He felt softness against his skin, smelt sweetness close by.

When he opened his eyes, he was shocked to find Fleur asleep beside him. The book was still in her hand. She had clearly attempted to read, but the sleep had taken her. He was at an impasse as what to do. He wanted to throw his arms around her and pull her so close that she might never leave. But he was her friend, she had said it herself and he thought it would take a few more bouquets of flowers before he ascended from such a title.

So, he laid still and breathed in the sweet smell of her hair, all vanilla and honeysuckle. It was as if he was existing in a dream, as if all of the nastiness and evil of the world had fallen away. He thought that was what love should be: enough to make you forget all of the darkness in the world and provide you with the sweet solace of peace and calm.

Fleur awoke as she turned over and found a rather solid object in her way. She jumped when she opened her eyes and found rivers of ginger hair in her face. When had she laid down? When she has fallen asleep? She couldn't be sure, but by the look of pleasured shock on Bill's face, he didn't seem to mind.

He watched as she froze in shock.
"I-" She attempted to explain herself, but could find no good excuse for her laying in the bed with him.
"If you wanted a cuddle, all you had to do was ask." He teased her and she hit an open palm on his chest, as naked as her legs. When had he taken his shirt off? She looked about the room and found his trousers and shirt strewn on a chair. She squeezed her eyes shut. She had never seen a man in such little clothes, it was not proper.

But those were her mother's words talking. She had been sheltered her whole life, first kept away from boys, then sent to an all girls school, her parents had made it very clear that she was not to consort with the opposite gender. Oh, if they could see her now! But, she checked the ground, not burning up, checked her hands, as steady as ever. It was as if laying beside him had changed her life in no large way.

And that was the truth. Everything her parents had ever told her about love and forbidden romance was a lie. She loved the heat that radiated from Bill Weasley and she enjoyed the smell of his long ginger hair and she shuddered at the thought of him being so close.

Bill could watch the cogs turning in her mind.
"Would you like me to go?" He asked and she placed a hand on his forearm.
"No." She said too quickly and he sent her a knowing grin.
"Ah, I see." He nodded slowly and she covered her face with her hand.
"It's not that. I just wish we could sleep longer." She explained and he wrapped his arms around her.
"Sleep like this?" He asked in jest, but she melted against his chest and did not push him away as he had expected. She placed her hands against the tufts of ginger hair on his chest and not a moment later, he felt the slow, relaxed breathing of her slumber.

He was in heaven, there were no two ways about it. Absolute, glorious heaven. He wondered what Ron would think if he knew what his big old brother was doing. He was sure he would be met with disbelief. He had trouble wrapping his head around it himself, but she was here and she was real, pressed against his chest and he didn't want to question it.

She was the one who woke up first, she climbed out of the bed and pulled on her dress. She began padding around the house, in hopes of finding something, she was unsure what, but something.

She paused when she reached the threshold of a room, painted a deep moss shade of green, with old wooden floorboards. Sat against the wall was an ancient, rickety piano. She hadn't played in such a long while, but she was sure it was like the broom, you never truly forget how.

She perched herself on the stool and lifted the lid. The keys were old and yellowed and she was unsure if they would be in tune. But it was worth a try.

Bill awoke to the soft melody of a piano. He didn't know that Sirius could play. It seemed rather out of character for him. He was more suited to a bass guitar, or a set of drums. But, there was no doubting that it was the paint being played. The notes reverberated throughout the house, which seemed rather shocking after it being so silent for so long.

He pulled on a jumper and some trousers, tying their laces as he began to go in search of the sound. He had not realised that Fleur was gone, and he didn't put two and two together. But, when he saw it was her perched, elegant small fingers caressing the keys, it made more sense to him.

He leant against the doorjamb and watched for longer than he could comprehend. He felt himself embalmed by her song, soothed by the rolling phrases. When she finished, she turned and jumped out of her skin.
"How long have you been there?" She asked and he shrugged his shoulders.
"Long enough."

They awoke just in time for dinner. Sirius offered them to eat, but Bill wanted to go out. So, they pulled on their shoes and Bill crouched to fasten the buckles for her. She protested but he would not hear it.

Fleur rather liked having him down there, by her feet. He was so much taller than her, that any moment where she was above him felt rather empowering. They made their way out into the town and ended up in a little pub.
"What will you do tomorrow?" She asked and he placed his chin on his palm and looked at her.
"That depends." He told her and she cocked her head to the side.
"On what?" She asked and he sent her a small smile.
"On what you wish to do." He answered and she blushed a deep plum.

Bill loved when she blushed so deeply.
"You know, I wanted to go for a hike, in some beautiful British forestry, but I have no idea where to look." She told him and Bill sent her a smile.
"I know exactly where to take you." He told her and they ate the rest of their meal in the promise of going hiking the next day.