THC Year 8, Round 8
House: Slytherin
Class: Potions
Category: Drabble
Prompt: [first line] There's nothing quite like the first snow of the season
WC: 563
Beta: bea weasley, Ash Juillet; Aya Diefair, DaughteroftheOneTrueKing
A/N and Warnings: Mentions of character death, colonial looting
There was nothing quite like the first snow of the season. Bill knew this better than anyone else. He remembered staring outside the Ancient Runes classroom and rushing outside as the first fat flakes fell down from the sky. If he was lucky, he would be home and hold Ginny up to the sky, showing her how to stick her tongue out so the flakes could melt on her tongue. He is no longer a child, nor is he defined by his ability to be an older brother.
The beauty of the first snow reminded Bill of happiness, happier days and memories he built. Fleur asked him out during the first snowfall of the season. She looked so determined, and slightly scared, as she rambled about weather patterns and blurted out that she thought he was pretty. Bill's heart ached at that memory. She was so young, eager to take on life, and all she had wanted was to stand as his equal in everything.
He would have given up ever reliving the magic and childish wonder of a first snow if it meant seeing Fleur again. He could hear her voice in his head berating him for his thoughts. Their line of work was dangerous, unethical, and highly skilled. Fleur had been in a constant battle with her morals from the minute she started taking on more complex Curse Breaker assignments.
So it had been a welcome relief to her when the Department of Mysteries had offered her residency to study The Veil. She had talked it over with Bill when they were breaking into a Mayan Temple none of them had any business being in. The sun had shone with brutal intensity that day, and Fleur murmured to him that she was only asking for his opinion, not his permission. They had three children at home, and she argued this job might be the stability that Victoire, Louis, and Dominique needed. They would be closer to family rather than hopping around between countries and continents.
Bill knew that what Fleur was asking of him was to compromise. She wasn't asking him to leave with her but rather to find a more permanent idea of what a homebase could look like. To some extent, the idea had appealed to him too. He wanted his children to experience the wonder of the biting cold winter and the warmth brought on by thick hearty stews and crusty breads. All things up until that point had been pushed aside in favour of more lucrative work assignments.
"Let's do it," Bill had said as they broke through a nasty flesh-decaying curse. It was so easy, with Fleur ignoring what other people had thought of him and his life had been so incredibly easy.
Slowly, they moved back to Shell Cottage and became like any couple who worked a nine-to-five job and raised children. The change had been a welcome one, and Fleur adored coming back home at a set time. Their children had their cousins, and life was even more idyllic than it had been on the road.
Bill had been excited to watch the first snow with Fleur, to show her all the little traditions he had collected over the years. And then Fleur fell into The Veil during the first snow a year ago, and all those special moments were tainted by her absence.