Author's Note shifty eyes I promise I haven't forgotten about the Decoration of the Tree... I'm just busy and lazy all at once. Maybe this will tide you over? Takes place somewhere between OotP and HBP.

Though the Night Be Dark

Bill sat alone in The Leaky Cauldron, tossing back firewhiskeys. He stared moodily at the wall, and tugged on his snake fang earring as he slammed his bottle down. "Tom!" he called, holding his bottle in the air to signal that he needed a new one.

Generally, Bill was a good-natured, easy-going guy. So some might wonder what could cause this overall pleasant guy to be so… frown-y. Could it be the stress of moving back to England, a cold and rainy country, from Egypt, a not so cold and rainy one? Could it be the awkwardness of telling his mother that he didn't want to move back into the Burrow? Could it be the condescending letters from Percy telling him that if he chose, Percy could get him a great job in the Ministry? (The nerve of him, honestly. As though Bill needed help getting a job.) Or could it be trying to map out all the secret locations Dumbledore had given him to look over when he'd first joined the Order?

The answer, of course, was none of the above. The reason Bill Weasley was grumpy and easily-annoyed was because it'd been weeks since he'd gotten to see his girl.

Fleur Delacour had decided to spend Christmas in France. She'd had enough vacation time saved up, and given the Christmas vacation that was already given through Gringotts, she hopped over to the nearest International Apparition Point and zinged herself to France.

That was the second of December. It was now the thirty-first, and Bill had taken to the bottle out of desperation. He'd received exactly two owls from Fleur; the first telling him she'd arrived safely and would he please stop sending all the owls, the droppings were getting out of hand, and the second wishing him a happy Christmas and telling him that his present would be given to him in person.

It wasn't fair. He hadn't meant to look desperate, and Bill tried to convince himself that he wasn't. Sure, he missed Fleur, but they'd been dating quite seriously for eight months. This was the longest they'd gone without talking. Of course Bill would be thrown off a bit.

"Hey! Tom! My firewhiskey?" he called down at the bartender.

"No."

"What? I'll pay for it, I've got the money."

"I said, no," Tom replied firmly, shaking his head. "I'm gettin' ready to close for a little while anyway – 'm opening again 'roundabouts eleven if ye want t'come back an' celebrate the New Year."

Bill heaved a great sigh and stood to his feet. He tossed a couple of Sickles on the bar and then fastened his cloak around his neck and walked out into the cold.

Tromping to one's flat, which is approximately a kilometer away, through the snow and wind and hail is exactly as much fun as it sounds. Bill had learned his lesson about trying to Apparate after a firewhiskey when he'd splinched himself, and ended up with his lower half buck naked in the living room of the Burrow, and his upper half stuck on the floor of his bathroom. While it was amusing for… well, all the other Weasleys, Bill hadn't found getting his arse smacked repeatedly by Fred and/or George quite as hilarious as everyone else apparently had. His mother had kindly wrapped a towel around his waist until it was straightened out, but Bill's face still burned at the memory. So he walked home from the pub. He withdrew his wand from his pocket and unlocked his door, and went directly to the bathroom to take a hot shower.

Drying off, he walked into his living room to get some clean clothes when he noticed a very familiar owl sitting with great dignity on top of a pile of dirty dishes. "Fleur!" he breathed, his heart jumping into his throat. He leaped over to the owl and got the letter off its leg as quick as he could.

Cher,

I am returned from la belle France. Please come to my flat tomorrow at one to receive your gift – I am very excited to see you, ma puce.

Je t'aime!

Fleur

"Tomorrow?" Bill said aloud. "I – tomorrow?" He flung the parchment on the floor and the owl flapped away with an indignant hoot. She flew away and Bill stomped into his room, throwing on sweatpants and a T-shirt and huffily got under the covers.

After tossing and turning and semi-sleeping and then being wide-awake intermittently for what seemed like years, Bill turned and looked at his clock. It was one-thirty. Happy New Year, he thought a little sourly. He sighed and flung an arm over his face, feeling the scratch of his stubble against the inner part of his forearm. "Screw this," he said suddenly. He flung the covers off and jumped out of his bed. Bill found some old sandals and jammed them on his feet as he threw a cloak on, not bothering to tie back his hair. He found his old Comet Two-Sixty and walked out onto his balcony and flew over to Fleur's flat.

Needless to say, the foolish man was quite half-frozen by the time he stopped the broom outside Fleur's window. He sniffled and then knocked on her window. Bill saw her stir, and he knocked on it again, saying "Fleur!" as loudly as he dared.

Fleur grabbed the covers and pointed a wand at the window. "'oo's there!" she shouted.

"Fleur, no! It's me!" Bill gestured frantically for her to not cast a spell. She dropped the wand and squinted out the window. "Let me in!"

"Bill? Mon Dieu, what are you--" Not bothering to finish her sentence, she flung open the window sash and pulled him in. "Look at you!" Fleur went off in French, pulling his wet clothes off and throwing some of his other pajamas that he'd left at her flat at him. She cast a drying and a warming spell at the former curse-breaker, and Bill stopped shivering. "What on earth were you theenking! Non, I do not think you thought at all! You couldn't wait until tomorrow, you 'ad to fly over een the middle of ze night and--" Here Fleur broke off into French again, obviously chastising Bill severely. She continued muttering in French as she pushed Bill into her bed and wrapped the covers around him. Finally, once Bill was bundled up under her quilt and his lips were no longer blue, Fleur climbed into bed next to him and said, thankfully in English, "Why on earth did you do thees? Did you not see where I 'ad said to wait until one tomorrow – well, today?"

Bill buried his face in the pillow and started to laugh. "I just wanted to see you." He looked back up at Fleur and grinned sheepishly. "I've missed you."

Fleur's face softened and she smiled indulgently, smoothing his hair back from his forehead. "I missed you, too."

"Yeah?"

Fleur nodded and leaned over him, pressing her lips against his in a gentle kiss. Bill lifted the covers and Fleur snuggled closer to him, still kissing.

Quite awhile later, the two lay entangled on the bed, Fleur's head resting on Bill's chest while he stroked her hair. "You know," he began musingly, "I don't think I like being away from you for so long."

"Oh?" Fleur murmured sleepily. She shifted and then looked at him, smiling a little naughtily. "I could not tell."

Bill tugged her hair lightly. "Funny. I meant… well…"

Fleur frowned slightly. "What?"

"What if we got married?" Bill blurted out.

Fleur pulled away from him, her mouth open in shock. Bill sat up as well, and grabbed her arm, looking intently at her eyes. "No, seriously, would… I mean, would you want to?" he asked in a small voice.

Fleur paused for a long moment, and Bill thought he might die. His face grew heated and he looked down at his hands. "I--"

"Yes."

"What?"

"Yes, oui, I do, I want to marry you," Fleur said hurriedly, as though she were trying to get the words out as quickly as she could.

"Really?" Bill asked, his eyes brightening. He grabbed the part-veela and kissed her hard. "You're serious?" he asked again, eagerly.

"Yes!" Fleur laughed, flinging her arms around him ungracefully. She moved to a more comfortable position and repeated, "Yes, Bill, I want to marry you. Because you make me feel smart et important and, oh, I love you and I missed you terribly."

Bill kissed her forehead, her nose, and her lips in quick succession. "That's because you are," he said seriously. He kissed her throat and whispered, "We'll get a ring tomorrow."

"This ees a vair nice New Year so far," Fleur murmured, giggling a little.

"Hush," Bill smiled, pulling her back down on the bed with him with a long kiss.