The Houses Competition (or THC)
House: Slytherin
Class : Charms
Category (Drabble/Standard): Drabble
Prompt(s) chosen: (Song lyric) "Wait for the signal and I'll meet you after dark/Show me the places where the others gave you scars" from Willow by Taylor Swift
Word Count: 999
Disclaimers/triggers: None
Warm summer air swayed the boughs of the willow at the pond's edge. Fleur scanned the water's surface as it rippled in the moonlight. The silvery moon was the only source of light, the silhouette of the Burrow far behind her as she waited.
He was late.
It was unlike him to be tardy, and only her faith in his ability to come home to her kept her mind from picturing every horror that could have befallen him. Fleur knew he would come here first, rather than the Burrow. Every night they rendezvoused at this private space where they could be alone together for a few moments.
A red flare of light skirted over the lake and fell into the water. It was the signal, the sign she'd been waiting for. Footsteps approached from her left, and she turned, her wand drawn in anticipation.
Long red hair framed the face she knew so well, his features distinct even in the dark. Bill Weasley stepped under the willow, his wand drawn. His brown eyes assessed her as he questioned her. "What did I say on our first date?"
"I thought this was a restaurant, but I must be in a museum because you're a piece of art," she replied, her emotions thickening her accent. His humor was one of the qualities she liked best. From the time she started working with him at Gringotts, he had made it his mission to make her laugh. The point of these interrogations was to ask the person something only they would know. It made sense they had chosen their relationship as a focal point, as not many knew the details. Fleur removed herself from her recollection of the event, her rosewood wand fixed on him. "Why did you approach me when we first met?"
Bill grinned. "I wanted to introduce you to my brother because you charmed the dragon to sleep during the first task of the tournament. I figured Charlie could use a few pointers from you."
Fleur exhaled in relief, tucking her wand away. This was her fiancé; she had no doubt. No one else knew what they'd spoken about during the tournament, their secret first meeting.
He opened his arms to her as his grim expression faded into the smile she cherished. "Hello, darling," he breathed out happily.
"Mon amour, you made me worried!" Fleur admitted as she crashed into his arms, her hood pushing back amid the embrace. The whispers of worry faded from her mind, but she knew they would return the next time he left to work, as they always did.
Bill pulled her to him before leaning in to place a soft kiss on her lips. "Forgive me."
"Why are you so late?" she inquired. Her accent was always more pronounced when she was emotional.
"Order work." He wore a doleful expression. "There is no good news coming out of the Ministry, and the goblins believe something is about to happen that will change the value of gold. A lot of money is changing hands very quickly."
"Did you tell Monsieur Shacklebolt?"
She examined him, her fingers smoothing over his cheek. Fleur did not like to see him like this, his charming smile dulled and his lips curved down. The conflict was wearing on everyone around her, but it hurt her the most to watch its effects on him.
Bill sighed, his hand cupping around her fingers and holding them against his cheek. "Yes. He says the same seems to be occurring inside the Ministry. I fear dark times are ahead of us, pet."
"Should we move the wedding?" Fleur was worried it would become the target of the dark forces at work.
He shook his head, moving his lips to kiss her fingertips. "I don't anticipate much will change if we move it to a different date."
"Oui, I understand," she answered. Bringing her other hand up, she traced the healed pink scars along his chin. Fleur felt the same about them as she had when Bill was injured in the battle. They were a badge of honor and courage, and she loved him all the more for them. "I cannot wait to call you my brave husband."
Darkness clouded his eyes and he shut them, taking a deep breath. "Fleur, will you promise me something?"
"What, mon amour?"
Bill exhaled deeply, holding both of her hands in his firmly. "If something happens to me, if I go to work one day and do not come home, I want you to return to France."
"Non, I cannot promise you that," she countered. "What sort of wife would I be if I ran as soon as there was a sign of trouble?" She wouldn't even entertain the idea.
"It was worth a try. You cannot blame me for wanting to protect you," he admitted. With a shake of his head, he let her hands go to cup her cheek. "If something does happen, at least promise to take care of yourself then?"
"Oui," she agreed. All this talk of something happening to him did not sit well with her. Was there a threat she did not know of, or had something happened only he knew of? "Do you fear something is to happen to you?"
"I don't know. I have no idea what tomorrow will bring us, Fleur," Bill whispered tiredly.
She placed her hands against his chest, leaning up to kiss him again, hoping to draw his mind from the weight of the world on his shoulders. "Then must we talk of it now?"
"I suppose not," he responded. "Thank you for waiting for me."
"Of course, mon amour." Fleur smiled, taking his hand in hers. "I saved a supper plate for you."
Bill followed her with a grateful smile on his face out from under the canopy of the willow branches. Together they wandered quietly toward the Burrow, hand in hand, and Fleur dismissed the idea that anything dangerous would befall her future husband.