Oh, oh, on borderland we run,
We run and don't look back
Three
They had to get back to some sort of normal sooner or later, and ten days after the funeral, Bill returned to work.
He knew he should probably be grateful that Gringotts was willing to have him back. Not only had he been absent from work for nearly three months, but also (and maybe more importantly) his brother had been one of the culprits who had broken into a high security vault, stolen a valuable dragon, and caused a ridiculous amount of damage to the building itself. It had been in a good cause of course, but you couldn't expect the Gringotts goblins to see it like that.
But Bill also knew he was damned good at his job. There might be reasons that the goblins didn't want him back, but there were more reasons to give him a good dressing down on his first day and then carry on as if nothing had changed. Which was exactly what happened.
It was oddly comforting to be at Gringotts again. It was something blessedly ordinary, something from before the world went to hell. (And Bill wasn't really sure when that was because it seemed to have happened in stages. He was pretty certain though that the particular level of hell he was in right now began at the moment he saw Fred's body lying on the floor of the Great Hall, with his mother sobbing and George sitting like a statue by his twin's head.)
The goblins and wizards and witches of Gringotts didn't seem to care about that too much. Of course, people said things like, "Good to see you back," and, "I'm sorry about your brother," but that was incidental to the work at hand. The war and its consequences might never have happened. Treasure inventories and curse-breaking hadn't changed, and Bill was able to immerse himself in them with more concentration than he had expected. He was almost cheerful when he returned home that first evening.
Fleur was frankly grumpy. If the cottage had seemed empty with just her and Bill in it, it seemed even more so with only her and the cat. Her part-time job at Gringotts had come to an end a few weeks before their wedding, and events since had kept her so busy that she didn't miss it one bit. But now, with Bill out all day and only a kitten for company, she was bored and lonely. She needed to find something to do.
"You said you'd be happy staying at home before we were married," he pointed out reasonably enough over supper that first evening.
Fleur snorted impatiently. "Zat was zen. Zis is now. I was a child zen. Sings 'ave changed."
"You weren't a child," he objected, grinning. "It would make some of the things we got up to a bit problematic if you were."
Fleur almost smiled. "You know what I mean. I was a romantic leetle girl 'oo thought zat looking after 'er 'usband was enough. Eet is not."
She glared at him, daring him to pretend offence that looking after him was not enough for her. He was wise enough not to.
"So, what do you want to do?" he asked instead.
"I 'ave been thinking," she said slowly. "I liked 'aving people to look after. I liked 'elping zem. People think zat because I am vain, I do not care about ozzers, but I do."
"I know," Bill says quickly. "I never thought that about you."
Fleur dismissed that with an impatient wave of her hand. "You do not count, chéri," she said. "You are my 'usband. You 'ave to think good things about me."
He laughed. "So what do you want to do, my clever caring wife?" he asks teasingly.
"I want to be a Healer," she says, and for once she manages the English "h" perfectly. This is important enough to pronounce right. "Do you think zat I could?"
He looked at her. The last year had taught him that Fleur could probably do anything she put her mind to.
"Of course you could," he said slowly, "if that's what you really want."
"Eet ees," she said firmly. "I am sure of eet." Voicing it out loud had made her more sure. She really wanted this.
"Then go for it!" he said, raising his wineglass to her. "New beginnings and all that."
She laughed and slid out of her chair, coming to sit on his lap.
"I will not forget to look after you too, chéri," she said sweetly.
"You'd better not."
He bent his head to kiss her, and it was a long time before either of them said anything else.
