This began as a chapter of A Kind of Homecoming, but seems to be outgrowing that. It may or may not end up being compatible with that story, depending on how they both develop. I'm so out of practice at writing I'm just letting the muse take me where it will right now.

(I know the dates don't fit with canon. Bear with me.)

Unexpected

Fleur looked at the tiny phial in her hand with horror. There was no mistake: the liquid inside was a clear bright gold.

How had this happened? No, that was the wrong question. She knew exactly how it had happened of course, and could make a fairly accurate guess as to when. How had they allowed it to happen? How could they have been so careless?

They wanted children eventually, had discussed it. Bill had told her teasingly he wanted to have eight just to out-do his parents, and she had told him tartly that in that case he had definitely married the wrong woman. Two children would be fine, maybe three. No more than that.

And really Bill was okay with that. He had loved growing up as part of a large family, but he also knew that he had missed out because of it. Not enough money, not enough of his parents' time and attention, too much responsibility for himself and Charlie as the eldest of many siblings. Two or three children sounded good to him.

But not yet. Neither of them were ready to start a family yet. They hadn't been married a year, and it had hardly been an ideal first year of marriage. And Fleur was still so young. She scarcely felt old enough to be married, let alone a mother. She and Bill wanted time and space to themselves for a while before thinking about babies. They wanted to find out what married life felt like in a world where they were not at war.

And yet, here Fleur was with a phial in her hand that confirmed what she had suspected for nearly a week now. She was pregnant. How on earth was she going to tell Bill?

She was nearly three weeks into the Healer training programme by then, and already knew that it was the right choice for her. Every evening she had been bubbling with enthusiasm as she told Bill about her day, what she had seen, what she had learnt, and what she had done. But this evening she sat quietly, picking at her food, not looking at Bill and hardly responding when he spoke to her.

"What's the matter, love?" he asked, putting down his knife and fork and looking at her. "Has something gone wrong?"

Fleur felt the tears starting then, because this shouldn't be wrong, it should be happy and wonderful and exciting. But it didn't feel any of those things: it felt wrong. It was wrong. She swallowed hard.

"Je suis enceinte," she blurted out, looking at him worriedly for his reaction, and then realising that he did not understand the most important word in the sentence. Rapidly she recast it into English. "I am pregnant, Bill. I am so sorry." And she began to cry.

"Oh love…" He was around the table in a second and pulling her into his arms, holding her as she sobbed against his chest. Now she had begun to cry, she felt as if she might never stop. She had been holding in her feelings all week as the suspicion that she might be pregnant grew. And today as she went to her classes and worked with her trainer on the wards at St Mungo's, the reality of the phial of golden liquid had always been at the front of her mind, making her careless and inattentive and earning her more than one rebuke from her teacher. Now that she could be honest with Bill, her self-control failed her utterly.

Bill tried to soothe her, becoming increasingly worried as her sobs became almost hysterical.

"Hush, love, hush. It's okay. We'll work this out. It's okay, it's okay."

"I don't want…" Fleur gasped. "Not now. Not yet."

"I know, love, I know." Bill didn't want it either. Not now. Not yet.

"I'm – I'm going to be sick!"

Bill conjured a bowl just in time, and vanished the resulting mess with his wand. Then he half carried Fleur into the living room, depositing her on the settee and conjuring a glass of water for her.

"Drink this, Fleur. Slowly. Don't start crying again, it'll just make you feel even worse. We'll get through this, I promise. We will."

Fleur gasped, fought down her sobs, and sipped at the water, her breath still catching. Bill came to sit beside her and put his arm around her, drawing her to him and kissing her hot face.

"You poor love," he murmured. "How long have you known?"

"I – I began to worry last weekend. I only knew today when I did the charm to find out."

"Oh Fleur. Why didn't you tell me?"

"I – I did not want to worry you. And – and I 'oped that I was wrong. And – and telling you would make it real some'ow."

"You poor love," he said again. "What do you want to do? Have you thought?"

"I do not know," she said slowly, her voice still catching.

"There are charms, potions.."

"Oui, zere are. But non, Bill I cannot. Zey may be right for some witches, but not for me. I cannot. Zis is our bébé, even if eet is not as we 'ad planned. I cannot do zat ."

"O-kay," he said slowly. "So we rethink our plans. It's not the end of the world, Fleur. We were going to have kids sooner or later. This is just sooner."

Fleur gave a shaky laugh and reached up to kiss him.

"You are being so reasonable about zis chéri," she said. "I thought – I thought zat you would be angry wiz me."

He pulled her closer. "Why on earth would I be angry? It's just as much my fault as yours, and this is going to be harder on you than on me, I think." He paused, wondering if this was the time to bring this up, but he carried on, realising that it was probably uppermost in Fleur's mind. "What will you do about your training?"

"I do not know. I spoke to one of ze ozzer trainees yesterday, She is in 'er second year and I know she 'as a little boy. She said zat zey let 'er continue wiz 'er training until she was close to 'aving ze baby and zen zey let 'er come back when 'e was old enough to leave wiz someone. I will 'ave to talk to my trainer, but I 'ope I could do something like that too. I do not want to give zis up, Bill."

"That sounds good," he said. "And I don't think you should give it up if it's what you want. It will just be – harder. More complicated."

"I know." She choked on a sob. "I did not want eet to be like zis, Bill. I wanted 'aving a baby to be special, wonderful, but now it feels as if eet is all spoilt."

He pulled her to him and used his fingers to wipe the tears from her face.

"I think – I hope – it won't always feel like this," he said seriously. "Maybe once we've both had time to get used to the idea, it will feel exciting and wonderful."

"Maybe," she said in a very small voice. "Eet does not feel like zat now, though. Bill…"

"Yes love?"

" I do not want to tell anyone. I mean – I sink I weell 'ave to tell my trainer, but no one else. Not our families. Your muzzer…"

Bill groaned and closed his eyes. "You're right, love," he said. "My mother will be so over the moon at the thought of being a grandmother, she won't talk about anything else for the next nine months. We'll keep it ourselves for a while."

Fleur managed a rather watery smile.

"I 'ave been a Triwizard champion, and 'ave coped wiz a war and my 'usband being attacked by a werewolf," she said, her voice still a little shaky, although Bill could tell she was trying to speak more firmly. "I can cope wiz 'aving a baby. Such a leetle thing, after all."

Bill laughed and kissed her.

"Such a little thing," he repeated. "it'll be okay, Fleur. We'll be okay."