When Bill and Fleur turned up at the Burrow that Sunday, they were the first guests to arrive. That was nothing unusual, but Bill had to admit today he was especially keen to get over there.

They'd naturally found his mother busy in the kitchen, tending to dinner and attempting to make sure everything was perfect. The kitchen felt alive and just as Bill always remembered it—full of fresh smells of delicious cooking while his mother buzzing around, always with too many things to do. She was charming utensils left and right, all while checking over her cauldron. She looked as if she was really trying to out-do herself tonight.

"Molly, do you need any 'elp?" Fleur asked, her eyes already scanning the kitchen and likely spotting several things she could lend a hand assisting with.

"Oh, Fleur!" Molly has said, realizing then that they were standing there. "So good to see you! Yes, I could use some help with some of the food." She smiled from Fleur to Bill. "Hello, dear. Your father is outside arranging tables since we'll be eating out there. You should see if he needs help."

"What I'm hearing is 'get out of the kitchen and make yourself actually useful,'" he joked, taking a step toward the door. "Sure. Right. Understood."

His mother seemed amused at his comment, though her amusement quickly slipped as she suddenly stopped in her tracks to look rather intensely between him and Fleur. Her brow started to slowly furrow, as if she'd seen something curious.

"What's wrong?" she asked. "Something's happened?"

Bill let his expression say that he had no idea what that could have meant; Fleur too had merely shrugged and said, "No. Why do you think something's wrong?"

She continued to stare at them. "You both seem…" She paused, letting herself take them in for another short moment before quickly shaking her head. "It's nothing. I've just been working all afternoon and I'm tired."

"You don't have to work hard on account of us, Mum," Bill offered, though his mother didn't seem to be paying him much attention now. She was already back to asking Fleur if she could lend a hand with her list of tasks she still had yet to complete. Bill took that as a hint to get out of their way and head outside, but not before his mother quickly spoke up once more.

"Oh Bill, if you want something to drink before dinner, there's wine over there on the counter. You can open some for everyone."

Bill, who'd already been halfway across the room to venture outside, now paused. He looked over at Fleur, pregnant with all the risks and fears, and decided he didn't want to draw attention to the fact she wouldn't be drinking tonight. That meant he wouldn't either.

"Oh no, we're good. No wine for us."

His mother looked oddly surprised. "'We're good'?" She laughed a little. "You didn't even ask Fleur." She turned to her. "Did you want—?"

"No, zank you," Fleur said, shaking her head. "Bill is correct. I—we 'ave been…non."

Molly stared at her as if that was likely one of the last things she'd ever expected to hear coming out of Fleur's mouth. Bill had to admit, Fleur—who often treated wine less like an alcoholic drink and more as a dinner party staple, similar to water—seemed out of place with that comment. It was hard to picture a version of Fleur who didn't feel wine accompanied a proper meal.

"Is there a reason…?" she began to ask, though Bill cut her off with, "Just wanted a break, Mum. Nothing serious."

Thankfully, his mother seemed to decide it wasn't worth pushing the topic and pushed it off entirely once one of her bubbling cauldrons started angrily hissing, causing her to rush to tend to it. He and Fleur took the moment to exchange swift looks, having dodged that first hurdle. It was a good thing they were telling everyone tonight because they likely wouldn't be able to hide it much longer.

"Where is everyone?" asked Bill once he was outside, greeting his father and seeing that he was on his own in the garden; enjoying some peace and quiet on a rather perfect evening. It was warm and inviting outdoors; the sky was clear for the first time in ages except for the sun dropping lower and lower in the sky. The weather had been so dreadful lately, it was lovely to be outside.

"Not here yet, it seems," his father called back, smiling as Bill approached.

"Ginny's not here?"

"She's with Harry," his father said as he charmed some lanterns that were hanging from the nearby trees. He turned to look at Bill. "Since she's been home, she's always with Harry."

He'd said it humorously; not with any ill will. Bill couldn't help but grin. It was no longer a secret these days that Harry and Ginny were very much together, nor had it been for quite some time. They'd worked something out before she'd gone back to school, and Bill had heard he and Ron would make trips to Hogsmeade as much as they could to visit. Ginny and Harry were fairly inseparable whenever she was home and he wasn't busy with his Auror training. It was sweet. They seemed happy.

Of course, his parents had been thrilled. Their mother swore that she suspected something for ages, but she never wanted to get her hopes up. At one point, Ginny had told Fleur that Molly had basically told her to please make this work. Not in those exact words, of course, but the message had been clear. She'd got herself a lovely boyfriend in Harry, who they all clearly adored. It would be wonderful if this all worked out.

"I seem to remember your mozer's response to me being a bit…different," said Fleur.

"Well, I mean, maybe you should have tried harder to thwart Voldemort," Bill joked.

Bill helped his father finish setting up the lanterns in the trees, all while preparing the rest of the back garden for dinner that evening. As the pair of them walked back to the house together, his father did politely offer him some wine or whiskey; when Bill shook his head and told him he was taking the night off, he'd almost expected a similar reaction to that of his mother.

But his father didn't seem to find the comment strange at all. In fact, he responded with, "Yeah, perhaps we all should skip the alcohol. Especially with George coming, it may be a good idea."

Bill heavily sighed. "George will likely come with his own supply. He's probably already been drinking most of the afternoon. He often does when he knows he's seeing everyone."

His father frowned, looking pensive and rather sad. "I keep trying to talk to him…"

"We all do, Dad. It's not for lack of trying."

His father nodded, looking as though he was now carrying some heavy thoughts in his head. "I'm honestly afraid he'll…"

But he stopped talking the moment they'd stepped through the kitchen door to find Percy having just arrived, his girlfriend, Audrey in tow. She'd brought a cake of some kind—a Victoria sponge, she was telling Molly—as a thank you for having her.

"Oh, how…lovely," said Molly, sounding surprised as she looked for a place to set the cake down. "But you didn't have to do that. I only wish I would have known, since I already made a cake. A chocolate cake. It's one of my specialties."

Bill caught Fleur's eyes flashing in a funny sort of way even from across the room, as they always did whenever that bloody chocolate cake of his mother's came up. It didn't matter the occasion, the mention of that cake would always pull a reaction out of Fleur.

"I suppose I could just not serve my cake," his mother said. "To make room for yours…"

"Just serve both," Bill said, seconds before Percy added, "We can have two cakes, Mum. We'll put them both out. People will enjoy the choice."

She sighed. "Seems excessive is all…"

At this point, Fleur, who had walked over beside Bill under the pretense of fetching a platter from a cupboard, shot him a look that was clearly holding back a laugh. She whispered, "Zere can be only one cake. You know zis. I know zis. Percy will need to learn zis. Audrey will struggle to understand zis…"

Bill gave her a playful look, his eyes silently telling her, "Don't start" as he reached up and retrieved her platter for her.

"I suppose we could put them both out," his mother said, sounding conflicted, "Had I known, I could have planned around it. Had more variety instead of two cakes. Perhaps some ice cream? Something beside all of this…cake."

"I like cake," Bill offered, trying to diffuse the strangeness. Because poor Audrey was now shifting her weight awkwardly every time anyone said the word 'cake'. She was likely now wishing she'd simply not brought the bloody thing. Beside her, Percy just looked as if this was an utterly ridiculous conversation to even be having. Who cared?

Fleur was right. This felt all too familiar. Is this what they'd had looked like?

"Oh, memories," Fleur whispered to him, smirking as she took her platter and returned to plating some fresh fruits.

Eventually, other than Fleur, his mother shooed them all out of the kitchen, claiming that it was far nicer outside that they should be out there enjoying the lovely evening. Bill and the others filed out to the picnic tables, while Percy went and broke open open the wine. Perhaps for Aubrey's sake after the cake fiasco.

It had only taken him only a few seconds of pouring to offer Bill some as well.

Bill sighed. This was going to keep happening, wasn't it? He considered taking it just to avoid the inevitable questions, but instead stuck to the plan.

"Not tonight," he said, watching as Fleur appeared at the same moment carrying her fruit platter out toward the picnic tables. It had prompted Percy to politely call over to her and ask, "Fleur, would you like some wine?" as he held up the bottle.

"No, zank you!" she called back, just as Bill answered, "She's good."

"Neither of you?" Percy asked after a sip of his own glass, once Fleur wandered over to where they were sitting. He even put on a knowing sort of smile as he suddenly chuckled. "Are we not drinking for a reason? Have some news to share, then?

Bill rolled his eyes, already saying the word, "No," but Fleur had spoken simultaneously. She had a very different answer.

"Well, I am pregnant."

Percy—who looked as if he'd been kidding before and not at all expecting that to have been confirmed—immediately got a bit wide eyed as he proceeded to just avoid dribbling wine down his front. He was looking from Fleur to Bill, seemingly waiting for someone to claim they were joking. When neither did, Audrey offered, "Congratulations."

"Wait, you're serious?" said Percy, still not sure whether he should believe this or not. "Are you actually pregnant?"

Bill turned to Fleur, as if he'd never have expected that in a million years. She'd just…said it. Just like that. No qualms, no fear. It had come right out. Even as fearful as she'd been, she just announced it without hesitation. She was even nodding in confirmation at this very moment.

"Yeah, we are," he finally said with a puzzled smile. "Or, rather, she is, But…" He threw Fleur a silent look that asked, "We're doing this?"

She offered him a lazy smile. "I am already tired of being questioned as to why I am not drinking." She paused. "Also, I zink your mozer already 'eavily suspects it. I keep catching 'er observing my stomach."

"You're actually having a baby?" Percy asked, now smiling. "Well, then. Congratulations, that's—"

"You're having a baby?" came their father's voice, and only then did Bill see he'd returned from having gone inside the house to fetch plates. He was still holding the plates, they'd just gone slack in his arms.

"Did I hear that correctly?"

Well, it seems they were doing this now, which made Bill smile more than he could have anticipated. He nodded for his father's benefit, watching as he immediately made a surprised noise before he went and set the plates down on the first spot he could find. Before Bill knew it, he was coming over to hug both he and Fleur.

"Billy, this is fantastic! Congratulations to the both of you." He smiled at them. "You haven't told your mum, though. We'd know if you'd told your mum."

"I suppose we'll have to tell her now," Bill offered, looking at Fleur to make sure she was in agreement. "I'd been waiting for everyone to get here but…" He shrugged. "What the hell. The news is out."

Fleur agreed; she'd even gestured for him to lead the way as the pair of them headed back to the house and inside the Burrow's kitchen. There they found that Ron and Hermione had just arrived—both informing Molly that Harry and Ginny were running behind, but they'd be here shortly.

After quick hellos and catch ups—it being the first time any of them had seen Hermione since Christmas time—it had been his father who cleared his throat in a way that signaled that they could make all this small talk later. He almost seemed more keen for this announcement to be made than Bill was.

However, his wife was so busy and preoccupied putting some final touches on the roast she was tending to, that she hadn't paid attention to him.

He cleared his throat again. "Molly…"

"Arthur, did you take the plates out?"

"I did, but—" He looked at Bill, urging him to go ahead.

"Right. So, uh, Mum…"

"There are napkins and cutlery as well," she continued. "Ron, perhaps you could—?"

"Mum," Bill said a bit more directly. "Can you…stop for a minute?"

"Um, well, not really, dear," she said as both Ron and Hermione scooted away from where she was still bustling around the kitchen, attempting to stir a pot and charm the flames on the cauldron in the fire.

"Molly," Hermione said. "Do you need—?"

"Oh, just the napkins if you'd like to help Ron, dear. Fleur's been helping me with the—"

At Fleur's name, Molly stopped and turned to look right at her—almost as if to check she was still here. Both she and Bill were standing there rather awkwardly, waiting to get her attention. Fleur even had her hand on her stomach.

"Oh, there you are," she said with a smile. "I was hoping you could help me with—"

"Mum, it'll just take a second," Bill said. "It's big news."

For whatever reason, that seemed to do it. She visibly slowed down; her expression went curious. She clearly now suspected something was up. It was the same look she'd given them earlier when they'd arrived.

"What is it?" she asked.

Bill laughed a little, looking at Fleur. "Well, we've got a bit of an announcement we'd like to share."

Perhaps it was the way he said it because immediately the vibe of the room changed. Hermione seemed to sense what was coming already—her eyes going to Fleur, then Fleur's hand on her stomach, and then her jaw dropping open just slightly. Ron—who was snacking on carrots that had been on the counter—also seemed to sense what was about to be said because he stopped eating and threw Bill a look. One that very much said, "Are you about to…?"

But it was his mother Bill was really paying attention to. She had let herself back up onto the counter, her hands on it as if she was proactively supporting herself. It was obvious in her face what she was hoping to hear next; if Bill hadn't been about to make that very announcement, he'd have felt bad for getting her hopes up like this.

"Bill…" she said, looking rapidly back and forth between him and Fleur. "Are you…? Is this…? Fleur, are you…?"

Bill smiled at Fleur. "Are you?"

"If you are asking if I am pregnant, zen yes—"

Before she could finish, a joyful scream came out of his mother. She even accidentally knocked a bowl of salad lettuce she'd had resting on the counter to the floor. She didn't even flinch at the mess; she was too busy letting tears well in her eyes and she rushed over to hug them.

"Oh, I knew it!" she said, hugging them for what felt like ten times in a row. "I knew it. I could sense it. And then you weren't drinking!" She smiled at them, a tear rolling down her cheek. "I'm so happy for you! How far along are you?"

"Thirteen weeks," Bill said, prompting his mother to swat him and scold him a bit for waiting so long to tell her. How could they have kept this a secret all this time? Such amazing news should be shared!

Bill and Fleur exchanged looks, but neither of them were about to get into the gritty details at the moment. Tonight was for celebration, not for remembering the last hellish several months.

"Congratulations!" Hermione said, with Ron adding, "Looks like I'm going to be an uncle."

That was really all they got to say before Molly began shooting off question after question at Bill and Fleur, already half forgetting about the dinner she'd been so focused on moments before. In fact, it was Hermione who was now moving around pots and stirring things; making sure nothing burned or overcooked. Bill could hear her giving Ron quick instructions to help.

"You must sit, dear," Molly said to Fleur, ushering her into the nearest chair. "Don't over exert yourself. I have plenty of others to help with dinner." She stood back and smiled at her before then smiling at Bill. "This is such wonderful news. We'll soon have a baby around! A little boy or girl—"

"A girl," Fleur said quickly. "It will be a girl."

"Is that what you feel it'll be?" she asked. "I thought both Percy and Ron would be girls, but I was obviously wrong." She laughed. "You never can be quite sure."

"Oh, I am quite sure," Fleur said without hesitation.

"It's a Veela thing," Bill told his mother. "They have girls."

"Oh!" his mother said, as if that had only just occurred to her. "But you're not full Veela, so how can—?"

That unlocked a very long conversation about Veela bloodlines and how this was apparently going to occur—which, to her credit, his mother hung on every word of Fleur's explanation as if she'd never heard something so interesting in her life. It was clear she'd have sat there listening to baby chatter all evening if they let her.

But in this case, it only lasted roughly ten minutes; until the door to the kitchen swung open to reveal a…well, not-drunk George. Looking at him, he actually didn't seem that bad tonight. Tired and rather hollow looking, but that was mostly the norm for him these days. He was arguably sober and didn't smell like Firewhiskey. That was a win.

"Are we not eating yet?" he muttered, looking around the room as if he didn't understand why everyone was gathered in this particular spot. "I'd thought I'd time this to show up exactly on time for dinner."

"Oh no," said his mother, suddenly jumping up. "The dinner…"

She was immediately reassured by Hermione and Ron that things were fine; that Hermione had even started plating things and handing them off to Ron, Percy, and Arthur to take outside.

"You missed the big news," Percy said to George.

George ignored Percy's comment deliberately. He'd instead wasted no time in pointing to the wine in Percy's hand and asking him, "Where can I find that?'

Percy clicked his tongue. "George, I don't think you should…"

"It's a simple question, Percy," George snapped, already heading off the lecture. "Answer it or be a prat. I'll figure it out one way or another."

"George," said his mother gently, gesturing to Bill and Fleur. "There's been some exciting news."

George sighed, clearly uninterested, but realizing he wasn't getting around this. "Sure. Fine. It's always something around here. Who can bloody well keep up? What is it now?"

"Well, it's that Bill and Fleur are…" she began to say before she stopped suddenly to look at him and Fleur, as if urging them to give their own news.

"Oh, that?" George muttered rather indifferently. "Right, yeah, they're having a baby. Good for them. Congratulations or whatever."

Before anyone could respond, George had already looked in the direction of the back garden and muttered, "I'm going outside. It's too bloody crowded in here." He then pointed at Ron as he passed him, asking. "Is the wine outside?"

Ron shrugged, though George didn't stick around to see if there was anything more to say on the matter. He'd hastily made his exit.

The room grew quiet after that, as if often did once George made a choice to suck all of the air out of the space with his presence. The silence was only broken by Ron nudging Hermione to say, "Let's go keep him company" before following after him. Bill saw that his father had already gone after him as well.

Percy sighed loudly, which was all too typical. They were all concerned about George, but Percy tended to be the most…vocal? Disapproving? Constantly in need of telling George about how he had a problem burying his grief in trauma in substance abuse? If Bill had been told off by George to fuck off and mind his own business one-hundred times, Percy had likely heard it one-thousand.

"Don't start tonight," Bill said to Percy, reminding him of the house rule that they weren't supposed to get on George's case at Sunday dinners because all it did was piss him off and make him leave. In fact, George and Percy had such a huge row once a few months back, that their parents had forbidden any of them from trying to stage some sort of intervention conversation with George while here at dinner. That sort of talk was to be held elsewhere.

"I won't if he won't," Percy muttered. "But you know the more he drinks, the more he—"

"Percy," their mother said, her tone still gentle. "We are all trying with George. We are. But the last thing we need is to make him feel like we're ganging up on him and cause him to go running off into the night—Merlin, know where. Please keep the peace." She gestured to Bill and Fleur. "Tonight is for celebration."

"If he doesn't start with me, I won't with him," Percy muttered, turning to walk out of the kitchen as if he didn't particularly want to have this conversation either.

It was rather mad how quickly the mood could flip around this place.

Thankfully, the mood soon switched right back to pleasant the moment Ginny and Harry had arrived a short time later. They were full of apologies for being late, but they'd needed to make a stop. They'd brought along a special guest with them.

"Oh, hello Teddy!" said Molly, immediately grinning from ear to ear at the sight of little Teddy Lupin, who was being carried in Harry's arms as he and Ginny entered. "What a surprise!"

Teddy—who was sporting brown hair and one light eye, one dark one—didn't particularly respond to the greeting he got; instead he was just curiously looking around the kitchen and at all the people now watching him. He'd grown like a weed since Bill had seen him at Christmas—after Andromeda had joined them here at the Burrow for dinner. Back then, he looked like a baby; now he was trending toward a little toddler. Even the way he was sitting up straight in Harry's arms, quietly looking around and observing; he was a little person.

"You didn't tell me you were bringing Teddy," said Molly, still cooing over him.

"We didn't exactly plan on it," Harry said, turning to look at his godson, who immediately turned and looked back at him. That made Harry grin.

"We went over to Andromeda's to say hello to Teddy since I hadn't had the chance yet since I'd been home," Ginny said, reaching over to tickle Teddy in the side, making his giggle and squirm a bit in Harry's arm. "And he was just so excited to see Harry, that when we tried to go, he got upset."

"I haven't got to see him much lately," Harry offered, shifting Teddy from one arm to the other. "Training days have been long."

"So, I suggested we bring him along for dinner," Ginny said. "We invited Andromeda as well, but she declined. She actually seemed keen on the idea of having a night off."

Molly chuckled. "Teddy is always welcomed!" she said, still beaming at Teddy as Harry set him down on the ground. Everyone watched as he quickly toddled over to the nearest chair, grabbing it to support himself.

"He can walk now," Bill said, almost in disbelief. "Bloody hell, he's gone and got big."

"He's growing far too fast," Ginny said, walking over to greet both Fleur and him with welcoming hugs, seeing as they hadn't seen each other in a bit. Harry meanwhile, along with Molly, was running interference on Teddy going anywhere near the hot surfaces in the kitchen. Molly even gave him a large plastic spoon to use to bang, which he was now fully embracing.

"Well, Teddy won't be the only little one around here soon," said Molly, looking at Bill and Fleur and again prompting them to share their news.

Bill both simultaneously sighed out of frustration and chuckled out of amusement. "Mum, you could let us—"

"Why?" Ginny asked, looking over at them as well, though her expression seemed to already know. "Hold on. Am I going to be an Auntie? Tell me you're pregnant?"

Fleur nodded, earning a happy sort of squeal and another big hug from Ginny, who then immediately practically tackled Bill in a hug.

"You're going to be a dad. You're going to be responsible for…" She looked over at Teddy. "One just like that!"

Teddy happened to turn and look at them then, shrieking a bit and then giggling as he hit his spoon against the table a few times.

Bill smiled at him. "I can't wait."

At the same time, George had walked back into the kitchen, apparently in search of more wine, but he did stop when he noticed Teddy banging his spoon. He actually seemed amused to see him—a rare, genuine smile appearing as he walked over to where he was banging on the chair.

"How's it going, little man?" George asked, tousling his hair before reaching down to pick him up. "You're getting big."

He then proceeded to dance him around the kitchen a bit, making silly noises and turning him quickly around in circles. It caused great laughter for Teddy, but he did seem to be acting a bit reckless with him in such a contained space. Bill saw that Harry was watching the scene like a hawk.

"George, put him down," his mother told him, just as Ginny said, "It really is too small a space to turn him around like that, George. Things are hot and there are loads of sharp objects."

"He's fine," George said, though he did put him down. "You're acting as if I'm throwing him like a Quaffle." He looked at Teddy. "They're no fun, are they?"

Teddy was already far more interested in getting to bang his spoon again.

"See Teddy, this is why I like you best," said George. "You don't talk."

He then threw the rest of them a look, clearly annoyed, before going to grab yet another bottle of wine to take back outside with him.

There was a collective sigh around the room, just as Ginny walked over to pluck Teddy up and carry him over to where Bill and Fleur sat. She put him down just in front of them, and pointed at Fleur's stomach as she knelt down beside him. "Teddy, did you hear? There's a baby coming."

"Beeee…" Teddy said, dropping his spoon. He seemed both confused and upset by this and started scanning the floor.

Ginny grabbed it and handed it back to him, now addressing Fleur. "When are you due?"

"December."

"Around Christmas time, if all goes to plan," Bill said. He'd said that last part with far more emphasis than he probably should have.

"A Christmas baby!" Molly gushed, she and Harry standing back to watch Teddy now drumming his spoon on Bill's knee. "Oh how wonderful! The best gift. Charlie was almost a Christmas baby. Bill, you weren't far off either. I have so many fond memories of having a little baby around for the holidays."

"Christmas," Ginny said, turning to Harry. "That would make Teddy how much older?"

"Uh," Harry said, looking as if he was thinking about that. "Not quite two years? He's in April, so…"

"That's not too bad," Ginny said, reaching over to give Teddy a quick run through of his hair with her fingers. "They can certainly be friends. Teddy, you're going to have a new friend! A little boy or girl—"

"Girl," said Fleur and Bill in unison, not missing a beat.

"Oh, you know already," Ginny said, sounding surprised. "I'm having a niece!" She smiled and looked back at Teddy. "And Teddy can have a little girl friend."

Bill blinked, the phrasing catching him off guard. "Alright, hold on. Bit early to start with that—"

"Friend that is a girl," Ginny emphasized, rolling her eyes. "That's all I meant. No one's pairing off their babies, Bill. That would be weird."

"Oh, but could you imagine…" Molly cooed, as if just the idea was too cute for her to even comprehend.

"Zey will 'opefully be good friends," Fleur said in a subject changing sort of way, turning her attention then to Teddy, who was oblivious to those around him that were planning out his future social life. He was instead far more interested in using her leg to balance himself.

"Just so you know," Harry offered, watching the scene. "If either of you would like some nappy changing practice while he's here, he's all yours."

That earned him a laugh, which Teddy mimicked with a particularly loud and adorable shriek of laughter of his own. He looked up at Fleur and smiled a somewhat toothless grin at her, drool and all, which made her gush a bit. He was a cute kid. It was hard not to want to study his every move right now just to prepare for what was coming their way.

"Do you 'ave a bib for 'im?" Fleur asked as the drool started to drip down his chin. It caused Ginny to look at Harry, who seemed momentarily confused before he suddenly reached for the baby bag that they'd brought along.

He was quickly digging through it, pulling out changes of clothes and toys, muttering, "Andromeda said everything would be in here. Where is…?"

"Here," Molly said, stepping forward with a cloth for Fleur. "Use this."

They dabbed Teddy's chin, all while Harry continued to search and mumble in frustration. It made Ginny smile and say, "Voldemort never stood a chance, but the baby bag gets him every time."

Harry finally gave up searching, pulled out his wand, and said, "Accio bib!" Within seconds, a bib came flying out, straight into his hand. He then held it up, almost proudly.

"Would you believe," Ginny said, her voice so low it could have only been meant for Fleur beside her, "I find him especially sexy when he's like this. The whole caretaker thing. I don't know what that says about me."

"Being a good caretaker iz sexy," Fleur said back, glancing over at Bill and smiling at him.

"Here, I'll do it," Bill offered once Harry walked over with the bib, seeing as Teddy had toddled over several steps to his chair and was right in front of him, inspecting the seam of his trousers. As he affixed the bib around his neck, Teddy looked up and was now putting all of his attention onto his face.

Bill smiled at him once he was done; his little face only inches from his. "There you go, mate. That'll keep you dry."

"Boo boo…" Teddy said, reaching up to rather gently touch Bill's face. "Boo boo…"

"Ohh," Fleur said, looking rather gooey at Teddy clearly inspecting his scars. She seemed to find it all terribly sweet; if Bill had to guess, her baby fever had just gone up by a thousand percent in the moment.

Or maybe that was just him.


Fleur found herself very at peace now that news of her pregnancy was out for all to hear. She'd have thought a part of her would have regretted finally saying something, if only because of the still present risks she was now all too acutely aware of. But she found now that the secret was out, it had the opposite effect. She felt free and calm. She felt happy and excited. She felt optimistic for the first time in ages.

The Weasley were all buzzing from the happy news and just the lovely evening in general. The evening air was warm and pleasant; the sky was clear and calm. Dinner was delicious and the company was, on the whole, enjoyable. George was still rather ornery most of the meal, throwing out little barbs here and there to get people to bite, but they were all used to how he could be while drinking, and no one generally took the bait. Percy tended to be the one who resisted the least, but he was currently on the complete opposite end of the picnic table chatting with his parents, Audrey, and Hermione about Ministry life and what Hermione should expect now that she had plans to join the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures later on in the summer.

As it were, Audrey just so happened to also work in Magical Creatures, and Hermione was clearly keen to pick her brain. Percy, who after the war had found himself working in the Department of Transportation, seemed to simply want to add his input on all Ministry related matters wherever he could. Fleur noticed that he seemed to have a lot to say about this department he didn't even work in. She couldn't help but think Audrey must have liked him very much to listen to him talk as much as he did.

Seated beside Hermione was Ron, but he was turned in the opposite direction in his seat, talking to Harry, Ginny, and George about life at Grimmauld Place. Apparently as of now, Harry, Ron, Neville, and Seamus all lived there together. "A Gryffindor dorm room, part two," Ron had called it. "Minus Dean." That was because Dean had made the choice to go back and finish his final year of school along with Hermione, but Harry had invited all of the other boys to come and stay at Grimmauld Place for the time being. It seemed to be quite the lads' pad.

That had been a year ago. Now Dean, Hermione, and Ginny were all home for good and they were all trying to figure out what was going to happen next.

"Hermione's going to come and stay for a bit," Ron was saying, "She's there now, staying with me—"

He'd said that last part rather proudly.

"But she doesn't want to live there permanently," he continued, glancing over at her to see if she was paying attention, though she was still speaking to Audrey. "I think it might have to do with how many blokes we've got in there right now, but, I mean, she's not the only one. Hannah stays over with Neville sometimes."

"But she doesn't live there," Ginny said. "And I agree with Hermione, it's crowded. Also it smells like the Burrow used to in the summertime. Like boy funk..."

Fleur wrinkled her nose, remembering what that was like when she'd spent that summer in the Burrow. It was one of the reasons she was happy to know she'd never have to live in a houseful of boys. They managed to create some very distinct odors.

"So it smells like home?" Bill said, grinning at his sister.

"It smells like home if mum wasn't there to clean up after everyone," Ginny countered.

"We do clean," Ron argued.

"We do," Harry agreed. "We actually did a big clean just before you and Hermione got back."

"I thought we did a good job," Ron offered.

"So," Fleur cut in, addressing Ron, "if Hermione wants to move away from Grimmauld Place, would you go with her?"

"We're trying to convince her to wait it out a bit," Harry said. "Since things are changing."

Ron was nodding again. "Right. Seamus is talking about leaving, and Neville's mentioned him and Hannah maybe finding a place together." He paused. "Though I don't know if he meant that now or later."

"It's hard to say with Neville," Harry said. "He's always going back and forth. Just the other day he was saying he didn't know if he wanted to finish Auror training."

"He wants to quit?" Bill asked.

Harry shrugged. "He just seems tired of it all. I think he rushed into it because he wasn't entirely sure what else he wanted to do."

"If it were up to Neville," Ron said. "He'd go and get a little garden somewhere and just tend to it everyday for the rest of his life. You can tell he wants to put everything we've trained for behind him. He wants peace and quiet and plants. That's his ideal life."

"That is not Auror life," Harry emphasized.

"Definitely not," Ron mumbled.

"That sounds lovely," Fleur offered. "Auror life is not for everyone."

"It's not," Ron agreed. "Sometimes I even wonder…" He trailed off, sticking a forkful of food into his mouth, but never finishing that thought.

"Anyway," Harry said, "once everyone else moves out, it would just be me and Ron." He looked over at Ginny. "And it would be nice if we could get it to be just you, me, Ron, and Hermione—"

George suddenly laughed, having been rather quiet up until this point. He was looking at his sister. "Oh shit. Does mum know you've been thinking about moving in with Harry already?"

Ginny sighed. "She doesn't get a say. I'm old enough to make my own choices. It's nobody's business."

"Sure, in a perfect world," George said. "I just want to know what mum said about it when you told her."

Ginny stared at him for a long moment. Fleur had to admit, she was curious to what their mother would have said as well. She seemed to remember her having opinions about her and Bill moving in together. And that had been when he was twenty-five…

Ginny hummed, looking away from George and over at Teddy, who was seated between she and Harry. "I haven't talked to her about it yet, but—"

George let out a bark of a laugh, glancing down the table where their mother was still listening in on the conversation with Hermione, Audrey, and Percy. He took a swing of wine from his third—fourth? fifth?—glass and muttered, "Oh, that will be fun. Let's do it now!"

Fleur threw George a look. He'd entered chaos mode and was ready to watch the world burn. She wasn't a fan of him when he acted like this.

"It's only something we're talking about," Harry said, just as Teddy started shouting, "Reeeee!" which apparently meant "Harry." He wanted him to pay attention to the carrot piece he was trying to hand him.

"Right," Ginny agreed. "It's just an idea. We may not. Hermione and I have talked about getting a place too since she's not keen on Grimmauld Place. There's a lot of talk going on. No point telling mum anything yet until there's a plan."

George looked like he'd been about to say something back—something likely that would start some trouble—and Bill, as if sensing it, suddenly interjected with, "Hey! Gin, when do you start training with the Harpies?"

Quidditch. Not that Fleur cared at all, but Bill had once mentioned to her that Quidditch was one of the few safe topics George could usually slip into as he had in the old days. As it were, everyone was especially excited about the following season considering Ginny had been picked up to play Chaser for the Holyhead Harpies, an all female professional team. She'd apparently had a great final season for her school house team and had proven to be quite the athlete.

"Late July," she said, smiling modestly. "Training starts then, and we'll see how I do. I'm not guaranteed to start. I'll likely only be a reserve at first."

George snorted a laugh, gulping down more wine. "Please. They're not benching Harry Potter's girlfriend."

Ginny's eyes narrowed hard on him. Fleur couldn't blame her. When George was like this, he was especially hard to tolerate. Harry had even looked up from where he was collecting carrots from Teddy to stare rather intensely at George. It was him who said, "She's really good. Her Quidditch career has nothing to do with me."

"Sure, if you want to believe that's all it is," George said, spiraling further into his usual self-destructive mode.

Fleur gaped at him. She heard Bill beside her mutter, "George, don't start…"

"Hermione said Ginny led the school in scoring last term," Ron said.

"I did," Ginny said tersely.

"She's great," Harry said, looking at George rather seriously. "You know she's great."

"Fine, she's great," George spluttered. "But that doesn't mean these teams aren't going to use you as her boyfriend and her adjacent celebrity to sell bloody tickets. It's called marketing."

"You know what, George…" Ginny began, though she seemed to think better of it and instead bit her tongue; a grimace on her face as she looked away and down at Teddy. She began urging him to eat some mashed potatoes, almost as a means of distraction.

"Who's the one with the successful business here?" George said, between sips of wine and looking from person to person. "The one who understands marketing? That would be me."

Fleur glanced at Bill, his expression seemingly mirroring her thoughts. Because she suddenly wanted to ask George who was the one who couldn't even be counted on to turn up to this business of his some days. Who wouldn't still have a successful business if it wasn't for his friends and family helping him?

But she didn't. No one said anything. They'd reached that point in the conversation with George where they all held their tongues because there was no sense in trying to reason with him when he'd been drinking. That generally meant there was no point in reasoning with him ever. He was right; they were wrong. This is who he'd become. He was looking for a fight and none of them were prepared to give it.

George, however, picked up on what the silence meant straight away and was clearly disappointed no one was fighting back. He was already muttering, "All of you are so fucking sensitive." He then stood up, wine in hand, and added, "Fuck it. I'm going to…"

For a moment, Fleur thought he was going to leave; everyone apparently was because they were all watching him. But he instead went in the direction of the orchard, disappearing within the trees without so much as another word.

That meant he was going to visit Fred's grave.

"Arse," Ginny muttered quietly, glancing down at Teddy as if maybe she shouldn't have used that word around him. Teddy, however, didn't know or care. He was busy squeezing mashed potatoes between his fingers before sticking them in his mouth. He'd stuck them in his hair at some point too, apparently.

George leaving seemed to have also silenced the conversation at the other end of the table as well; they were all now acutely aware of the heaviness that had settled. Molly and Arthur both asked variations of, "What happened this time?"; Ron was already whispering a quick recap to Hermione.

"Someone needs to get through to him," Percy said, his tone frustrated. "What are we supposed to do? Spend the rest of our lives walking on eggshells around him? Or the rest of his, because the way he's going…"

"Percy, don't you dare," warned his mother.

"I don't want anything to happen to him!" he argued. "But if we keep acting as if…"

Conversations broke out all around the table—some in hushed whispers, other's piggybacking off of Percy's argument. Everyone was in agreement that something needed to be done, but no one seemed to know what to do. Post war life was certainly not perfect in any particular sense. Trauma was still visibly everywhere; people were putting on brave faces, but they often slipped despite their best efforts.

Add to that day to day struggles—such as the last six months Fleur and Bill had spent in her own mental health spiral due to her pregnancy issues—and some days were so very hard.

Fleur sighed and looked at Bill, who clearly was thinking about his brother, but also clearly confused and out of his element. What could one do when there wasn't a one size fits all solution?

"Let's talk about something cheerful," Ginny suddenly suggested, and she was looking at Bill and Fleur. "Have you two started thinking about names for the baby yet?"

Fleur felt a bit taken off guard by the question, having not really allowed herself to properly think of something so permanent like a name for this baby since this was the closest she'd come to having an actual baby. Prior to this pregnancy, she'd let herself half dream of some, though she'd never said them aloud. She hadn't even discussed the idea with Bill.

"We haven't," Bill said, looking at Fleur. "It's not something we've done…yet."

"You have plenty of time," his mother offered. "I don't think we named Ron until the day after he was born."

Ron made a face, as if that didn't surprise him at all.

"We do have time," Bill agreed, Fleur nodding as well. "We're just sort of taking it slow and enjoying…um…" He paused, looking for the right words.

"Enjoying every minute for what it is worth," Fleur said, putting on a quick smile.

The rest of the night was mostly peaceful, seeing as George was gone and no one else was particularly looking to start anything. They'd enjoyed their cakes—plural—under the night sky and the lit lanterns, and Fleur had made a point to let Audrey know how wonderful hers was; how nice it had been to have a choice.

"I almost feel like I offended Molly by bringing one," Audrey said when it was just the two of them. "I'd only been trying to be polite. I didn't realize…"

Fleur smiled. "There is much you will need to learn about Molly Weasley if you continue to spend any time dating one of her sons." She exhaled heavily. "I could write a book…"

"I'd read it if you did," Audrey quipped.

George never did come back that night. Bill and Ron had gone to check on Fred's grave, only to find that he wasn't there. He'd clearly left without announcement or any goodbyes. This wasn't unusual—even when he was in a decent mood, he tended to just leave unannounced—though it did always upset his mother when it happened.

After Bill and Fleur said their goodbyes and their thank yous to everyone—after they received one last round of "congratulations!" and "it's such wonderful news!"—they found themselves back at home, readying themselves for bed. With the windows open and the peaceful sounds of sea waves crashing in the distance, Fleur had assumed they'd simply sleepily crawl into bed and call it a typical night. The pregnancy did tend to make her more tired than usual; she could easily go to bed much earlier these days.

Bill, however, surprised her just before she tucked herself in by bringing back up a topic from dinner that she assumed neither of them would breach again for months.

"Do you have any names picked out?

She stared at him from her spot on the bed. Was he serious? Did he think she was foolish enough to let herself name the baby yet after everything they'd been through? She was asking for heartbreak by doing that.

"I just mean," he said, laughing a little awkwardly once he caught the face she was making, "are there names you like? I can't help myself from wondering…"

"Do you have names?" she asked.

He shrugged as he pulled the blankets back and got into bed beside her. "Not really. Perhaps? I'm trying not to get too invested in anything without talking about it with you."

"Do you…want to talk about it?" she asked slowly. "Because, if I am truthful, I may not be ready to name this baby until I have her in my arms."

"Which is fair," Bill said. "I tend to agree. But I also am not a fan of just calling her 'it' or 'the baby' for the next few months. I feel like I need a nickname or something."

Fleur was confused. "A nickname? What do you…?"

"It's just what my family did. You heard my mum. They didn't name Ron until he was born, and with so many kids, you couldn't just say 'the baby' because there was always another kid around we all still considered the baby. At least until the new one came." He paused. "We called Ron 'Bean' until he was born."

She laughed. "Bean?"

He nodded. "Because one day my dad was trying to explain to the twins how mum had a baby inside of her—which they, as toddlers, assumed meant a full sized one and they were very confused. But he had them instead picture a bean. A bean that would grow bigger and bigger…"

He waved his hand dismissively, "You get the point. Anyway, we all started calling Ron "Bean." It was his nickname." He paused to consider something. "Ginny was 'Flower'. Fred and George were just 'F & G' because my mum already planned to name them after her brothers' initials…"

He looked back at her. "I don't remember if I, or Charlie, or Percy ever got one, but the nicknames just felt better than calling them 'the baby'. I feel like we need one."

Fleur had to admit, she found all of this rather hilarious. She would have never guessed her sensible, usually adverse to silly things, husband would make a request like this. Fatherhood was already bringing out a surprising side of him.

"What do you have in mind?" she asked, smiling at him. "And do not say Bean…"

"No, Bean is Ron," Bill said obviously, looking down at her stomach. "This one should be stronger. She's going to be strong, I can tell."

Fleur continued to smile at him.

He reached over and put his hand on her stomach, and if she didn't know any better, he almost seemed to be channeling the baby. His face was screwed up in concentration. It was all so especially silly, she had to laugh.

"She'd be about the size of an apple now," he mumbled to himself.

"No foods," she said.

"Foods aren't what I'm going for," he said, still pondering. "I'm thinking more…" He was quiet for a long moment, as if he was thinking. "See, I feel she's more our personal little…victory. You know? She needs something that conveys that." He turned to her. "Maybe something French? What's that in French?"

"What is…?"

"Little victory."

"Petite victoire."

He smiled at her; there was a noticeable light now appearing in his eyes as if she'd hit the nail on the head and found exactly what he was looking for.

"Yeah, see, that's really cute." He looked back at her stomach. "Our petite victoire. That's perfect. Let's call her that while she's in there."

Fleur looked down at her stomach as well, where Bill's hand was still gently resting on it. As far as nicknames went, she didn't hate it. She could actually get behind calling the baby that until they discussed a proper name. It did certainly send a message. After everything they'd been through—everything from day one, from the day they'd met, through the war, to their pregnancy struggles—they'd finally reached a point where they would soon have something real to show for everything.

And even if their journey was more of énorme victoire instead of just a petite one, the message was clear. They'd come a long way, they'd suffered and celebrated; loved and lost. But they'd made it through this far; they would keep pushing forward.

And forward further with their petite victoire.


A/N: * always feel the need to note, before someone corrects me, that my Victoire's birthday is in December, which is why you saw it mentioned that way. Well aware it's supposed to be in May these days, but I started writing about Victoire pretty much straight after DH came out-well before JKR told us anything about her. For that reason, I always stick with the birthday I originally gave her.


Other than that, that's it. That's the story. :)

The "oh, it'll just be a side project I do..." that turned itself into a 60+ chapter, 400,000+ word beast. I always swore I would avoid jumping straight into the HP canon of the seven books because I like the freedom of writing without the tight canon restrictions, and this is probably the closest I'll ever get, but it was an experience. I certainly have a new found respect for Bill and Fleur after trying to work out how they would approach their world and situations. I can only hope I did them justice.

I can now add their story right alongside their kids'. Somehow I keep getting myself even more involved in this Weasley/Delacour family, but they've apparently become my thing; my little niche corner of the Weasley centric fic-world. With that said, I DO plan to add more to Bill/Fleur's journey by exploring their life as parents, which I've mentioned before. I plan to have it as another collection of stories type of vibe; much of it touching on my next-gen stuff. It's why I'm making it a separate story apart from this one. This one based more in actual canon; that one based more on my own head canon. Keep an eye out if that interests you.

Anyway, this is where we part. For those of you that sat and read this entire thing, those that commented, and those that had thoughts they shared-thank you. I appreciate each and every minute of attention someone gives my writing because I know you easily could be doing something else. So thanks. :) Until next time.