Fleur
"I'm telling you Fleur, you look beautiful." Her young sister, Gabrielle, pulled away a strand of silver hair from her eye. Her older sister was getting her vows renewed in an attempt to have a better wedding—one not crashed by followers of the most powerful Dark Wizard in history. Fleur stroked a hand over her stomach, recently noticeably a bit larger.
"No." Fleur shook her head. "It's too tight. I can barely move." She sighed, and her chest rose and fell. Fleur turned to the assistant, Jane. "Jane, could you find me something maybe something looser? I don't want to make it so obvious." Silently, Jane with her bright red hair that reminded Fleur of her own husband scurried off. Fleur turned to Gabrielle.
The young sister stared. "What?" She cocked her head.
Fleur smiled. "My little sister is so big now. In her fifth year of school, age fifteen! Aww, I love you." She stepped off the podium and hugged her little sis as tight as she could with her now bulging belly.
Gabrielle rolled her eyes, even though she hugged Fleur just as warmly. "You know I love you too." She said, releasing her. "And that's why I'm telling you to get that gorgeous dress!" As she spread her arms in exasperation, both of them laughed for a long time. Fleur sighed, climbing back to the podium.
"Eh. Maybe I should. Let's see what Jane has to offer me." Gabrielle sighed, showing her lack of enthusiasm. "I'll call Bill."
"Bill, why?"
"He's with all his brothers at his party. The house is trashed, I tell you, with all those boys." She sighed. Just then, Jane came into sight. But as she was going to speak, Fleur was already on the phone. "Hello, Bill, are you there?" she asked into the phone. Silence. She turned it off and looked towards Jane with an aggravated smile. Jane didn't smile back. Instead, she showed Fleur the most beautiful ball gown dress, with a faint peach colored skirt and thin soft fabric overlapping each other like petals on a flower. The bodice was completely jeweled with diamonds like a sequined plate. The wedding gown had no sleeves, but it only made it even more beautiful.
Gabrielle swallowed. "That—is the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. Incroyable, Fleur! You must take it!" Gabrielle insisted. Fleur nodded with enthusiasm.
"I agree very much." She squeaked. Fleur took the dress from Linda with a smile, exchanging her own dress for this new one. A moment later, Fleur arrived. Her moon colored hair and her ivory complexion fitted perfectly with the beautiful shine of the dress. The large ball gown skirt of the dress hid her stomach better than any magic would have been able to do. "I love it," she whispered, gazing at herself in the mirror. I—I—I. . ." The rest of her words went unsaid as she sneezed once. Twice. Three times. She almost lost her balance of the podium and had to steady herself.
"Netwaye Macwoob," Jane drew her wand, (beech wood, wampus cat hair core, 11 inches, pliable) said a spell in her airy voice to dispel the germs Fleur had just sneezed onto her wonderful wedding dress, and scowled. "I am dearly afraid Mrs. Fleur Delacour and sister," Gabrielle scrunched her face; could the lady at least give her a name? ". . . That you will have to pay full price for this dress whether you liked it or not. I'm sorry." She sounded sincere, which made Fleur and Gabrielle both a little uneasy.
"Jane, we were going to take the dress anyway. We love it. No need to fret—" Fleur sneezed again, followed by a cough. Gabrielle winced.
Everyone knew about Fleur's sickness. The one still to be determined. It could either one of the worst muggle maladies out there, or a simple cold. Fleur sometimes vomited at random, so it was hard to tell if that was just her being regularly ill in her current state or something grimmer.
Bill
Yes, Bill had lied. It was not a celebratory party for guys only and it was requested that Fleur left for three hours. Did he feel bad? Yes. Would he do it over again? No. Today was a day that could either crush him or make his spirit burn brighter.
He had contacted everyone, including Gabrielle, Fleur's little sister. There were two very important dates coming up: the first year anniversary of the end of the Wizarding War on May 2nd and the birth of Bill and Fleur's child sometime in May as well.
In Shell Cottage, there was an excitement in the air. The Weasley family was dropping thousands of gifts on the table, all in red bags and wrapping. Harry Potter and Hermione Granger, the closest friends of the Weasley family, congratulated Bill and sent their gifts floating to the gift table. Bill was overwhelmed, almost, by the surplus of people carrying around cake and presents for the soon to come child.
The entire idea of the event was for Fleur to feel a little more comfortable when she got home after shopping for the wedding dress, and to lift both Fleur and Bill's spirits if the news they got later into the day was disappointing, though everyone hoped it was not.
A rattle on the doorknob.
Everyone stood still, waiting for Fleur and Gabrielle to walk through the threshold into the arms of excited family members.
Alas, Fleur opened the door and widened her eyes in shock as everyone yelled surprise in the merriest of tones. She quickly put an invisible charm on her wedding dress, but Bill could tell that everyone in the room, including him especially, saw just how beautiful it was, if not exactly what it looked like.
Ginny Weasley and Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley embraced her as she travelled in a dark red coat and black leather boots toward Bill, who was dressed in a nice shirt and jeans. The scars left on the right side of his face after the attack by Fenrir Greyback didn't stop Fleur from planting a kiss on his cheek and hugging him as tight as she could with her bulging stomach. "It's all for you, Fleur. We love you," he looked into her eyes. "I love you."
"I love you." She repeated, and kissed him again. Some of the young girls, like Ginny and Gabrielle, swooned at their affection. Fleur looked around, her eyes watering. She slowly stepped toward the overflowing gift table, picking up a sweet little kitten plush animal; it was snow white and big, blue eyed.
From Ginny and the Lovegood family.
Bill and Fleur turned to Ginny who stood beside Luna Lovegood and her distant, ethereal father, Xenophilius, whose crooked nose and pearl white teeth smiled at the couple. "Take a look inside the box." Luna said, her voice airy and sweet as usual. She had on a lovely little dress that was basically just purple flower blossoms all over.
Fleur opened the box, and out came a tiny little kitten, fluffy and cute as a kitten—as it should be. "Woah!" Bill bent down to pick him up from the floor, a squirming little creature. "What should we name him honey?" Fleur tickled his chin as Bill asked the question.
Smiling, Fleur looked at it and decided. "How about Tiny, because he's so small!" She exclaimed, taking him from Bill's arms gazing with glee as the little creature meowed and nuzzled his head in the nook of her wrist. "Tiny needs a nap, Luna. Could you be a dear and put her on our bed? Thank you." Luna took her gratefully and headed away. Fleur turned to Bill.
"I guess this is where we head out now, isn't it?" She asked, a low tone in her voice. Ginny touched Bill's hand, knowing this is where she left, and walked away after. Bill nodded. Fleur grabbed his hand and walked toward the door.
"Everyone will be here waiting for us, you know." Bill reminded her as he climbed into their red truck. Fleur managed a weak smile and a nod, looking deeply into his eyes.
"We have got to exchange this truck for a minivan or something!" She exclaimed, drawing her pale fingers through her hair strung from the moon. Bill smirked. "I mean honestly, what kind of parents would we be to have a baby sitting on my lap while we drive, or heavens no, flying away in the back-whatever-you-call it." She held a hand to her forehead. "Pickup box?"
"Bam! You got it." Bill smiled at his wife. "So, you know, we thought of some names while you and Gabby were gone." Bill slipped a sheet of paper from his pocket,
"Did you?" Fleur scanned the list quietly. Margot, Louisa, Morgan, Sophie, Molly, Sophia, Aveline, Etta, Elise, Larielle, etc. Emmeric, Atticus, Lincoln, Louis, Walker, Sean, Ethan, Arthur, Corbin. Fleur laughed softly. She did like the names Margot, Sophia, and Elise for a girl (which she very much wanted) and Louis, Ethan, and Daniel, which was a name not on the list. "What a nice thing to do, Bill! I have to say though, I don't think you'll be getting much of a say in this. Perhaps the middle name, though." She grinned playfully.
Bill laughed with her. "Alright, I chose the middle name Molly-Sophie if it's a girl," he whispered, making the last left turn before reaching the hospital, "and Arthur-Atticus if it's a boy." They both exited the car before the towering building of St. Mungo's.
"Ah!" Fleur exclaimed. "You can't have Molly-Sophie because I was thinking I liked the sound of Sophia Weasley, and it's just not right it it's Sophia Molly-Sophie Weasley, you see? I wouldn't mind Sophia Molly Weasley though. Your Mum is quite nice." Fleur looked as though it hurt just to admit that.
Nonetheless, Bill smiled brighter than the sun, standing just south of the threshold to what Bill ever so little wanted to hear.
"Really? Do you mean it?" He asked. Looking straight at him with her cornflower blue eyes, crisping the air with her smile that radiated only pure perfection, Fleur nodded. Bill grasped her hands and kissed her smoothly. "You're the best." He said.
"I do believe that is true." Fleur jokingly brushed a strand of her nearly white hair off her shoulder. As the white halls of St. Mungo's echoed the muddled words of both Bill, Fleur, and many others both tragically ill and the ones leaving happily healthy. "Are you ready?" Fleur croaked. It didn't take a genius to tell that her heart was beating faster than a roaring Hogwarts Express.
They entered the iron and gold designed elevator, each to their own silent thoughts. As they entered room 3822, Bill and Fleur were more scared and scarcely hopeful than they had ever been in their entire lives.
The last time they felt so afraid and anxious was when death eaters began a massacre at their very own wedding.
However, it wouldn't help to show his angst. Bill placed an arm around her and kissed her cheek.
Fleur
Dr. Tiffanie Roosevelt wiped her sleeve across her bruised cheek. She was a young lady, probably straight out of wizarding school and then the Ministry's Magical Medical Academy. She explained the purplish-red bruise as the injury of a flying bike experiment she was put up to by her eccentric husband, who she called "Hugh."
What really astounded Fleur was the fact that her words were heavily spoken with a French accent. Fleur couldn't help asking one of the nation's sisters a few questions. "Yes!" Tiffanie exclaimed. "I was part of the Ombrelune house, and I'm proud to say!" Fleur knew this was the house of those eccentric and masterful with tools and experiments. Strange though, most doctors fit into either Bellefeuille, the house of the healers, helpers, and kindred spirits, dedicated to helping. Or Pappillonlisse, the house of the researchers and diplomats. How odd.
"I met my dear husband in house Ombrelune. What house were you in?" Tiffany said, grabbing a fan of small, golden fork-shaped objects. Before Fleur could respond though, she was pressing the object against each side of her throat, soft side, thankfully.
Then, with a terrible pinch, the sharp end on the almost-fork clipped some of her flesh and blood from her body. Fleur yelped, grabbing at the plain hospital bedsheet. "Ooh, just a little pinch, Mrs. Weasley." Tiffany reassured. "I'll just do a little bit of this—Vistickio—the bit that was scraped onto the mini fan solidified into a cube. Tiffany levitated it with a swish of her wand onto a piece of silver lined black cloth. It folded over the micro-cube of Fleur's literal flesh and blood, and then dissolved into a silvery texture.
Tiffany picked it up, examining it slowly, then breaking out into a startling smile. She dipped down to hug both parts of the couple. "Congratulations! Fleur," she puckered her lips, her heart pumping, "you only have a simple fading head cold. And she is fine!"
Fleur and Bill's jaws dropped. "She?" They said in unison. "You mean. . . it's a girl?" Fleur's eyes were filling with tears of joy now, and Bill was having the same reaction.
This was the best news they could have wished for. Health. A girl. Happiness. All of it was right at their fingertips, and now, they knew they could turn more of their attention to the renewal of their vows.
The air was sprinkled with such joy and relief, it was surprising that the couple didn't giggle and kiss themselves to death. With their foreheads resting against each other's, it was like a new window to freedom—of worry, terror, and all things they had feared.
"Well," Bill began, wiping a tear from his chin, "I think the family will want to hear our news." They both broke out in effortless smiles again, so excited and hysterical, it all seemed like a dream. Still excited beyond belief, Fleur nodded, mouthing the word yes.
. . . . . .
