Hermione, Luna, Ginny, and Gabrielle circled the beautiful gardens in Tortworth Court, examining just days before the wedding the place where Fleur and Bill would have their do-over wedding dinner and dance; inside was where the ceremony would take place.
Fleur brushed her dainty hands against the white flowers, eyeing with great pleasure the grand white chairs and tables arranged around the garden. Now, her stomach was bulging and the small baby growing inside was nearly ready to come out, just hopefully before the wedding.
It was also May 1st, and there was tension and mourning amongst the Wizarding World. There were so many lost. . . Fleur's own brother in law had died May 2nd, and with the wedding on May 4th—the only time the venue was available, Fleur and Bill were questioning their decision to have their joyous event so close to the death of so many, not to mention the brother of the groom and best man.
"Girls, over here." Fleur waved her hand gently to the long, curved bench outside of the gardens. They all turned their heads, Hermione and Gabrielle leading them, Ginny and Luna staying behind to talk excitedly with their brightly colored shades. "Now, I know that it's been a long journey with all of us, with Sophia Weasley, here." Fleur smiled down at her stomach, and she couldn't even see her feet. "My point though, is that you girls have stuck with me through it all, and you all are my very best friends. I love you all." She was beginning to tear up, looking at their bright and hopeful faces. She really did love Hermione, Ginny, Luna, and of course her brilliant sister, Gabrielle.
"We love you so much, Fleur." Ginny reached forwards and touched her hand.
"I know," Fleur smiled brightly. "That's why you all are my maidens of honor!" They all squealed, a mix of confusion and excitement. "I know, I know, it is crazy, but it is not fair to put any of you ahead of the rest, because I'd be a complete mess if not for you girls. Thank you so much." Fleur stepped forward to hug them all—weakly, though.
The comfort their hugs gave her was immense and warm, so much that Fleur didn't want to leave their arms. "Well, the sun is setting," Fleur pointed with disdain to the west, where the blazing sphere of the sun was draining the light from the sky. "I should be home by now. Ginny, come along."
Ginny, Fleur, Bill and Harry were going to have dinner at their house. In the week before the wedding, Bill had made it a goal to speak with friends before early May, which not only was the wedding but, the projected date of Sophia's birth. So far, with four nights left, they had had exciting dinners with Molly and Arthur, Monsieur and Apolline, Vanessa Bruni and Gilbert-Raymond du Bayet, the friends of Fleur from Beauxbatons, whose son Gilbert-Raymond the 2nd turned two-years-old in February.
Fleur had enjoyed them, but she was often drained and the constant swish of the door as it opened to happy faces was choking the life out of her slowly, if planning a wedding while housing another human being wasn't.
Her fiery red hair swung fiercely in the dying wind as Ginny came, angular brown eyes sharp as a tac. She pulled out her wand, as if to apparate, then quickly remembered that Fleur couldn't travel by magic for now and slipped it back into her boot. Refusing to get caught up in the magical amenities she had missed out on in the past nine months, she walked briskly as she could to her car.
"How is Harry doing with auror training?" Fleur started off the conversation. Ginny exhaled deeply.
"Very well, I guess. Since the end of the war, they've been needing them like crazy, since so many were killed during it. That's why Harry's been allowed to train, but also been allowed to train under Horace Weiss and pursue Lucius Malfoy with Neville Longbottom and Blaise Zabini. He likes the work though. He's good at it too. They've got a lead that Lucius might be hiding near Azkaban. . ." Her voice trailed away solemnly.
"Are you alright?" Fleur saw Ginny's eyes watering and parked a few minutes from their home in Forktoad Alley, famous for the old bar built by Richard the Third of England, who was a famed pureblood and Hufflepuff. Funny enough, his wife was Anne Neville.
"Oh, Fleur, no! Harry constantly works and works and works, even nearly a year after the war. He comes home late in the night, tired from work that he can't even saw much about. I love him! But I just feel so unimportant to him. . ." Her face had turned pink. Fleur brushed a hand through her hair and cooed at her kindly.
"Harry loves you, Ginny. I see how he looks at you—I know you matter more than anything to him and he's just trying to protect you and everyone else, which he shouldn't do. He's trying to handle the guilt he feels for all the deaths in the war. You know Harry better than anyone. You know that's all it is. Give him time, that's all." With a kiss on the cheek, Fleur smiled at her as Ginny nodded, sniffling her agreement.
The rest of the trip was brief and silent. Both girls knew that there was nothing they could talk about that wouldn't be awkward, so therefore, they stayed to their own.
When they reached Shell Cottage, though, smiles lit up both of their faces.
Harry was wearing his best suit, with a garnet red tie and hair slicked up in that messy adorable way. Bill also had on a nice pinstriped suit, his fiery hair out to his jaw and his scars looking unnoticeable with his kind brown eyes and the wildflower bouquet in his hands.
Ginny leapt into Harry's arms, and he passionately kissed her back, wrapping his arms around her waist and lifting her off her feet as she brushed her long fingers in his overwhelmingly greased hair. If Fleur wasn't there to caress Bill's cheek and plant a soft kiss on his lips, she feared Bill would've attacked poor Harry. She'd heard the rumors that Ron had done it to Dean Thomas.
They sat down at the little table beside the window, eating and talking over fresh lemonade and barbeque brisket. Fleur was expecting Bill to talk to Harry about auror training, but he didn't, which made Fleur awfully suspicious.
"I hear that Hermione and Ron are quite happy together, eh?" Bill smiled with Ginny. "You guys think Ron might pop the question soon?" All tensions that were slightly strung in the air disappeared with the mention of everyone's favorite Wizarding couple.
"Oh, I do hope so! I wouldn't mind if any of you proposed on our wedding, to be honest. You're both so lovely, and they're so lovely." Fleur crooned romantically. Harry and Ginny blushed redder than the hair of a Weasley.
Ginny took another sip of her lemonade. "I don't know, actually, but they did move in together. . . a charming little terraced house in York, did you know?" She informed, her breath rattling with the bittersweet liquid down her throat. "Ron's getting a job as the Hogwarts Express driver and cleaner, because little Blysects come in the night and supposedly turn everything they touch into white silk. So the job is more of Hogwarts Express driver, reverse-magicer, and Hermione see-offer, because she'll be returning to school in the Summer. . . as well as Luna, Seamus, and Dean."
Taking a large bite of his barbequed brisket, sent all the way from the Burrow and cooked by his own mother, Bill danced around questions with Ginny and Harry, asking Ginny what profession she was going to take on.
This, brightened Ginny's face a bit.
"I got accepted into the Hollyhead Harpies, Bill! Chaser position!" He squealed. "Believe me, I was going to tell you, I just thought that I should give all the good news on your wedding day, so that you would be unbelievably happy!" Fleur and Bill looked at each other, sympathetic and happy.
The spirits were raised without the use of any, and soon it seemed the night was over. Ginny and Harry disappeared with a swish of their wands to their respectable homes; the Burrow and a one-room flat. As soon as they were gone, Fleur chugged down the lemonade, magically popped popcorn with a swish and twirl of her wand and slid it down her throat.
Before long, a robe and Bill's arms were wrapped around Fleur as she quickly slid into a much-needed rest.
. . . . .
Fleur woke up feeling strange. She was queasy, her head was pounding, and there was something wet beneath her in the sheets of her bed. "Bill," she whispered, frightened but excited.
"Yes, darling," Bill's voice was slurred into the pillow.
Fleur smiled brightly, taking great effort to plant her feet onto the ground. "I think we need to go to the hospital." Almost calmly, she picked a lovely little white midi-dress, waiting for Bill to respond.
"Why? Wait. . . Oh my goodness gracious Weasley, Fleur." He began to weep in his hands. This was the day his brother died. The day his daughter is to be born. How could the world match such days together in the cruelest way? It made him sick to his stomach.
Nonetheless, Fleur was dressed and prepared for the pain and emotions to come, May 2nd or not. Sophia Weasley was meeting the world today, like it or not, because it was the day so many met their end, but among them, Lord Voldemort, and that was a victory.
She came into the hospital screaming like a madwoman, the feeling like needles breaking apart her skin so painful it overwhelmed her and ripped at her chest, like a knife to the heart. As well as Bill supported her and rescued her to the nearest doctors, who took her into a room on the third floor, he had accidentally used magic to bring them there, and that had multiplied the pain by the thousands for Fleur.
In the room of delivery, Bill prayed silently and held Fleur's hand as her face drained of all color and she grunted and screamed in furious pain, all while Dr. Alessandria Bowe commanded her to push harder. "Bill," she breathed, the color in her once brilliant blue eyes dim, "p-promise me," she screamed again in pain. "I want our little one to be named Victorie, after everything we've been through Bill," Fleur seemed as though she wanted to laugh, but that was too much effort. In the distance, almost, like through a tube, he heard Dr. Bowe asking for her to push.
Bill laughed. "You sure, Fleur? I love it, but I want you to be sure." Bill recommended. Fleur rolled her eyes even in her great pain.
"She's coming!" Dr. Bowe hollered, and her words had never brought more joy to the both of them.
"Yes!" Fleur screamed at him. Her howling voice made Bill grin, once again having a small little argument that he never could win. "Victorie Molly Weasley. . ." Then she was silent. Sweat dripped down her forehead to her jaw, and Bill didn't know if she was breathing or not, but her hand was quickly losing warmth. Her chin rested against her shoulder, not moving. A rattled gasp left Bill as he heard the shrill but warm cry of a baby. . .
One of the nurses, with a dark blonde pixie cut and deep grey eyes handed the rosy cheeked baby into Bill's arms. She already had her mother's sharp blue eyes and signs of her moon strung hair. "Victorie." He breathed, brushing his thumb against her cheek. Bill poked his head up when a nurse called urgently while standing over Fleur. His heart dropped. Baby Victorie was taken from a wizard healer who had just come in the door.
"To the nursery," he said as an explanation. "Come. Let the doctors deal with Fleur Weasley for now. This girl is beautiful! What is her name?" He said, leading quietly Bill out of the room as the doctors worked over Fleur, making his heart pound, and possibly hers.
Nonetheless, the man holding his baby made quiet small talk with him until reaching the nursery, and he was forced to answer to this man, Jonah Duffy, a kindly and plump man who wrapped his baby in a blanket and asked him what he did for a living, how long he had known Fleur, and then, an outline of his relationship with Fleur.
He swallowed, tears coming down again. "I love her so much. I would die for her. Kill for her. When I met her, she was the most beautiful, most intelligent, most passionate person I'd ever met. Now, I don't know if I-I can say she 'is' or s-she 'w-was.'" He choked through the words.
Just then, a familiar nurse came up to his side, asking him to come with her. Without hesitation, he ran down back to the room faster than the nurse could keep up with, and the breath was swept from him when he saw his gorgeous Fleur with dozens of empty potion bottles on the nightstand, and a wrap around her frail bicep where an enchanted injection was placed.
It nearly broke him.
"We had to place her in a coma because of the pain she was suffering. We gave her a pain injection to help that, but that didn't work much, and then we sedated her into a coma, so now, when her vitals are stable, we'll bring her out." She stated sympathetically.
"W-When will that be?" Bill began to cry.
"Anywhere from a few hours to a week." He released a sob. His beautiful Fleur was trapped in a sleep and could possibly miss the first week of their child's life. The room she had specially decorated for a child name Sophia that was now Victorie, she would never get to be the first one to dip the sleepy girl into her pink crib. She wouldn't dress her for church, or dates with friends, or checkups if she stayed there for so long. "We're afraid that her vitals aren't very good. If it stays this way for the next few days, she could stay that way for the next few months."
Bill could barely keep himself up. "I-I need to leave." He threw himself out the door and waved his wand around madly, speaking loudly, "Expecto Patronum!" A silvery antelope spew from his wand gracefully, carrying the message that was in his heart to his sister Ginny and brother Ron.
Fleur is not doing well. I'm going home to the Burrow with Victorie, our daughter.
Scooping a now cleaned and sleeping Victorie from her small crib. Grabbing his wand, he closed his eyes and transferred himself away to the Burrow.
Home.
His Mother didn't ask what had happened, just cried in joy at her first grandchild, a girl, and such a beautiful one at that. It pained Bill into gulping down all the firewhisky and brown ale to think that his mother didn't care about the state of his bride.
Ginny cared though. Ginny cared enough to bring Harry from his home, and Harry cared enough to bring Ron, who cared enough to bring Hermione, who cared enough to bring Luna, who cared enough to bring Neville, who had foolishly been left out so much.
Together they pulled the drinks from him and focused on the positive: the beauty young Victorie would grow to be. Her personality and talents Bill and Fleur would come to learn. Her Hogwarts house, though Bill argued that Fleur would insist her firstborn child go to Beauxbatons and perhaps that they all move to France. This made everyone laugh.
Neville, though, was invited, and he didn't know what to do, mostly. Quietly, but powerfully, he added, "how proud Fred would be." This shook a tear and more from everyone, who gave their own reactions to this remembrance of two terrible things on one terrible day and that's when the drinks were brought back to the table.
No one spoke for a long time, until Hermione, who had secretely been tossing out her drinks, spoke. "Bill, Fleur wouldn't want you sullying yourself. You should return home. Get sleep. Ron and I will gladly go with you to take care of Victorie, if you need."
Both Weasley brothers sat on edge at her offer, one out of exhausted gratitude and the other from confusion. "You would do that for me, Her-My-Knee?" Bill slurred, his eyes falling short.
Sympathetic, Hermione patted his arm. "Of course. Molly, please get baby Victorie!" There was a distant cry of Molly Weasley singing her agreement from the third or fourth floor of the Weasley home. Hermione lifted up her drunken boyfriend and hopefully brother-in-law (though that she wouldn't tell anyone) and walked them out the door, bidding goodbyes to Harry and Ginny and ignoring Neville.
Ugh, Neville.
By the time they were at Shell Cottage, both boys were passed out either on the sofa or in the bed, and Hermione was left rocking Victoire back to sleep after giving her a bottle of milk and some peach baby food.
She placed her in her pink wooden crib, rocking it gently.
There was a slight pang in her heart when she thought of Fleur and Bill and their relationship, and how much she wanted that kind of strong, sensible, wonderful marriage. She also wanted a child as beautiful as this one, even though she was having a wonderful time looking over Teddy Lupin, the war orphaned son of Nymphadora Tonks and Remus Lupin. The child was nearly a year old and was an energetic one. Ron was sure his hair color was actually the ginger brown color of his late mother, and his eyes were the gentle black of his father, though his hair often took a neon blue appearance.
Gently as she could, she put a rocking charm on the crib to continue rocking it even after she left the baby to sleep. Then, Hermione did what Hermione did best. She took an interesting book from the Delacour-Weasley family shelf and read herself into a fantasy trance.
She was in such a trance, she didn't notice Bill waking up and leaving through the back door, only one thought in his mind.
Fleur.
