As she opens the door to her ostentatious London flat, Violet is pleasantly surprised by a large hump in her quilt.
"Hey." She mumbled, pulling the blanket back to settle next to your partner in bed.
The redhead man's eyes opened from his fake sleep, heart still thumping wildly in his chest from having run back to her quarters after a long night watching over her from afar.
"I didn't know you were coming over tonight, Bill." The woman chuckled, waiting for him to offer up his arm as a pillow for her. "Didn't you say that you had business to take care tonight?"
"I decided spontaneously. I came here straight from Gringotts." His explanation was as curt as it was unsurprising, expression never faltering from his serious look. He placed a kiss against her temple as she pulled the blanket back up, settling next to him. "You've been working late."
"Oh, you know. There's never enough time to conduct my research properly and read the books I want. Some sacrifices need to be made for knowledge." She dismissed lightly.
Taking a deep breath, Violet felt the tiredness fall over her. Truth be told, there is not just the mass of workload she felt on her shoulders that had been worrying her lately, even with the added stress that comes as a two-income household tragically becomes a one-income. It has been five years since her widowhood, but the mess her husband left behind is hard to sift through.
That being said, it felt inappropriate to bring it up with her equally-widowed boyfriend. Not that night, so late, with the two of them already almost asleep, not when he has his own problems.
His contemplating hum was accompanied by his fingers brushing through her hair, twiddling the end of the strands on her head. He had always had a bit of a fixation on her hair, it always felt light and silky to the touch. When he met Fleur, in fact, the first thing he noticed about her is how her hair looked like Violet's.
Ah, Fleur. Another victim of this war. He honestly feels contrite about her death, but he could not deny it had come to be in a convenient moment for him. It had been best to demobilize as an unattached man.
"What have you been reading?" He asked with unexpected interest.
Admittedly, had she not decided to get up so suddenly and just leave the Ministry library without some warning, Bill would have looked up the books she had been reading himself. However, she too had a tendency for spontaneous actions, and his instincts had reacted quicker than allowing him a quick peek at her studies.
"Just... Spells." She responded, lightly, still reticent about saying anything on the matter. "Some warding spells."
"Warding spells?" He asked, the slight rise in voice carrying his confusion.
"I've been..." The woman sightly. "I've been feeling watched lately."
"By who?" He asks, suddenly and forcefully.
"I don't know." Violet sighed warily, turning to him, drawing her finger over his chest and settling him back down. "I'm worried that it might be some unfinished business of Yaxley's."
Ah, yes. Corban Yaxley, her good-for-nothing deceased husband. A match arranged for her by her uncle, who thought it would be better to have an in with both sides of the war, but did not have the balls to sell off his own daughter to the wicked old man, but his impoverished niece served just as well.
Bill never thought he would feel glad about killing someone until he cast the curse at him.
For four years, Violet had to put up with that man's abuse, she had to tolerate the Death Eaters and Voldemort, and she still found in herself to resist and help their side with critical information. She deserved more than she got off the wizarding world, after the war. Nevertheless, he is always prompt in lending her a hand in whatever she might need, and he is willing to go above and beyond to protect her from whatever, be rogue Death Eaters or the contempt of the public.
"What makes you think you're being followed?" The man questions, softly.
She looked away. "It's more of a feeling, you know? There are bushes rustling when I look over my shoulders, and sometimes I see shadows disappear behind corners. I'm not sure if I am just imagining it, but maybe with a warding spell, I would get notified more easily and be out of harm's way."
By now, Bill was all ears, peaking up at her impressions, and his arm tensed under her head. She could not help but feel guilty over putting this stress on him right now, thinking he might sleep poorly knowing that his lover had such a problem.
Luckily for both of them, Violet could not grasp what it was going through his head instead. He is certainly not all too worried about who might be watching her.
Perhaps she is aware of it, or maybe she is not, but a warding spell was something Bill did not consider she would resort to. She might have a lot of transit in the Muggle society, but he ought to remember that she is a pureblood witch just like him.
It had been a dire underestimation. He is a curse-breaker, his work might be effective, but he is specialized in brute force, without care for whom might realise that the wards had been busted. She, in turn, was a pretty good unspeakable and had a natural affinity to elaborate and complex spells.
Warding herself from evil might sound good in her ears, but to him, it only sounded like the worst that could happen. It would make it unnecessarily hard to watch her, make sure no one put their grabby little hands all over her when she was friendly with them, and it would destroy everything he had worked so hard on to achieve.
In that little warding bubble, she would lose all her restraints that he had put into she so carefully for months now. It had been his tactic to scare her with tales of the coming state of the wizarding world, how the people are hostile to her married name. Now she is trying to turn the tables on him, and he really could not have that, could he?
"I'm sorry, love. I didn't mean to upset you right before bed…" She mumbled apologetic, hugging her partner and laying her head on his chest.
Bill could not help but soak in the feeling of her warmth, the smell of her favourite tea washing over him. He put his hand firmly on her back, urging her with a poke of his finger at her chin to look up at him, even if he had preferred to lay with her like this for a while more. He could not risk her falling asleep now, not without having taken this stupid idea of hers out of her brain.
"You're imagining things." He said, softly. "Maybe it's just because you're not really used to how things are at the Ministry. Whenever I do anything over there, I feel like ten Aurors are staring at me."
At that, Violet could not help but let out an amused snort. "True, I noticed that too."
"And you are an Unspeakable." He insists. "People recognize you, look at you when they see you. You wouldn't want to shock anyone with a ward, right?"
"I..." She grumbles, but he does not let her continue.
"Just imagine one of the clerks approaching you innocently from behind and running right into your spell. They'll have burns for weeks! That's not very good."
"You're right..."
"Besides, there's still the Yaxley situation." He delivers his final blow. Guilt for poking in a sore spot surge slightly, but he suffocates it back down again. "The Ministry might think you're hiding something. The paranoia might get you arrested. Or worse, killed."
All of a sudden, Violet grew very quiet, fingers digging into his shirt.
"No, I don't want that..." She whispers. "I guess it's a stupid idea."
"Yeah." He mumbled successfully, reaching up to cup her hand with his. "Don't worry, love. You're safe. You're safe because I'm here, and I wouldn't let anyone put a hand on you."
Looking up at Bill again, she gave him a nod, letting him kiss her forehead reassuringly before pushing her down softly into his chest again. When he was sure she could not see his face anymore, he smiled wickedly.
"I wouldn't let anyone take you away from me. I won't lose you too." He said, full of conviction.
"I know." She whispered, feeling happy.
The woman could not shake the feeling that something was still very wrong, but she decided to trust him. His reasoning sounded quite well thought-out, and it is not as if she had any evidence to prove anything else, should she be accused of collaboration with Voldemort.
Her head spun lightly from the tiredness and worry, as she decided it was probably best to sleep over the whole thing.
"Thank you." She mumbled. "Sorry for bringing it up. Goodnight, Bill."
"Goodnight, love." He is quick to respond, listening as she took a deep breath and laid down to rest, sleep soon washing over her.
Bill is lucky to have someone as understanding as Violet. After all, there was no-one left to take her away from him, and she had already confirmed to him that she is not leaving on her own, either.
He is not going to let her go.
