.
For a long time Bill thought he wasn't made for love. He was raised in an extremely loving family, and he had nothing to complain about. He saw his parents, even after years of marriage, treating each other with affection, companionship and complicity, and he couldn't see himself in the future in the same way. At Hogwarts no person had ever made his heart soar, at least not that he could remember. After finishing school, he distinguished himself as an accomplished curse breaker and travelled all over the world fighting the forces of darkness. He stayed for many years in Egypt, he was used to living alone, and thanks to the heat and dry climate of Cairo - so different from the humid and grey climate of England - he considered living there for the rest of his days. However, his sense of justice did not allow him to live a nomadic and solitary life, and he had returned to London to join the Order of the Phoenix.
The Ministry's refusal to accept that Voldemort had returned, and the scarcity of missions as a curse breaker made Bill agree to give English lessons to a French exchange student who, according to his brothers, had participated in the Triwizard Tournament the year before. So for a long time Bill thought he wasn't made for love, but that was before he met Fleur Delacour.
It was ironic that now the memory of his ex-wife brought only mocking smiles between one glass of firewhisky and another. He had also noticed that the more he dwelt on the past with Fleur, the more he smoked automatically. He lit one cigarette and soon he was lighting the second, and then the third, and then the fourth, and thus a quarter of his salary was only used to pay for the packs of cigarettes that he consumed in an unrestrained manner.
He couldn't understand how the woman who had declared such sincere love for him when he had been attacked by Greyback, who had fought by his side in the war, who had kept him company while he ate pieces of raw meat, who had stood by him through good times and bad, was now nothing more than a vague memory of a person he was beginning to doubt he had ever really known.
Bill didn't complain about the peace that had consumed the magical world since the fall of Voldemort, but he did get bored with his job at times. It was difficult to perform the role of curse breaker when almost all of the wizards allied to the darkness were now imprisoned and their belongings saved in vaults. There was very little left to do. That day, however, had been very interesting. Along with some fellow aurors, Bill had tracked down a small group of Voldemort sympathizers dealing with dark matters in a clandestine pub. Upon noticing the presence of ministerial agents, the three former eaters cast a spell that washed the entire place up in flames. They hadn't cast a fire, it was much bigger, and no auror could put out the blaze that licked violently at the bar's peeling walls.
And that's where Bill came in: like a curse-breaker, he managed to put out the fire and returned, drenched and with a smile on his face, to the Ministry as the aurors led the three men away for questioning. As he took the lift, he remained oblivious to the disapproving glances of the other workers, who were probably annoyed by the puddle of water Bill had left in the small cubicle. He noticed that one or the other had gotten off in departments other than his own, just to get out of there.
The redhead laughed internally. When he was alone in the tiny cubicle, he heard a familiar voice ask him to hold the lift, and so he did. Hermione Granger, his younger brother's ex-girlfriend, entered, furious, and didn't even say a word to him.
Bill didn't usually talk to her much, it was true. To be honest, he didn't talk to almost anyone. Ever since Fleur had filed for divorce and gone back to France, everyone at the Ministry treated him too carefully, and it bothered him. He thought it would last a few weeks, but it went on for years, and he ended up shutting himself off more and more, until there was no one left to exchange a simple "good morning" with. However, that day was different, he was excited, so he decided to strike up a conversation with the witch.
"I'm glad you're having a nice day, Miss Granger", he commented, unable to restrain his tone of debauchery.
She stared at him angrily, those narrow brown eyes running up and down his body, lingering for a few seconds longer on the puddle of water at his feet.
"Look who's talking", she replied.
Ouch. She was in a really bad mood, and Bill decided to hold back his laughter and stare at the wall. Only when she apologized did he consider the possibility that he had answered out loud. When he reached his floor, he exited the lift with a simple good-bye. It had not escaped his notice that Hermione had become a very interesting woman.
Rumours were circulating in the corridors that she would be the first female Minister of Magic in a long time, and Bill knew it would be the right choice. She was extremely competent and dedicated, qualities he had had the opportunity to notice even before she joined the Ministry. He remembered her always commenting pertinently when they took Sirius' house as headquarters for the Order, he remembered when he and Fleur hosted the witch, Harry and his brother during the war, and he remembered her duelling masterfully at the Battle of Hogwarts.
Interestingly, Hermione had been the one to reassure his mother when he was wounded by Greyback. He wasn't sure if she was aware that he knew, but he did. His mother, previously hysterical at the possibility of having a werewolf son, had come to treat the situation very calmly, and commented at the time that Hermione had done some research and explained to her that Bill would not turn into a lupine entirely. He also remembered how much his mother cried on his shoulder when he heard that Ron and Hermione had broken up, lamenting that the family would lose the girl. He realised that he never knew why the two had broken up, but he imagined it was because Hermione had become a woman, while Ron had - for a long time - remained a boy.
Fortunately, Hermione didn't drift away from his family. After all, she was Harry's best friend and godmother to one of Ginny's children with the golden boy. She was always present at family lunches and dinners, as was Bill, and only at that moment did he realise, with a certain amount of curiosity, that the two never spoke to each other during these gatherings. Truth be told, they had known each other for years, but they didn't really know each other. He knew her only from what he heard from others, while she probably only knew that he was a Weasley and had been marked by a werewolf.
.
As usual, he had been the last to arrive at The Burrow for his nephew's birthday. As soon as he appeared in front of the house, he noticed that Charlie had also just arrived and was already standing in the doorway. His brother turned back and smiled when he saw him.
"Late as always" the younger man joked. And Bill pulled one last cigarette from his pack, lighting it with his wand, causing Charlie to raise an eyebrow. "You know Mom hates it when you smoke".
"She won't even notice, the house is packed", Bill answered with the cigarette in his mouth. He checked his pocket to see if he had brought a second pack, and with some relief realized that he had.
When they entered, his mother obviously ran to curse him and only let him into the house after making sure he didn't have any more cigarettes. The house was full, as usual, but infinitely louder. The children were at that age where running and shouting seemed a matter of necessity, while the adults were scattered in groups, each with their own business.
Some subjects during dinner were the same as always: Charlie and his father created conspiracy theories about dark wizards in Eastern Europe - a subject that Bill particularly loved to feed just to see how far their paranoia got -; his mother complained about the size of his hair and his earring; Harry and Ron talked animatedly with George about some subject he couldn't identify and Ginny talked with her mother and Angelina something about James and quidditch. There was only one thing different about this dinner in particular: Hermione. Bill had already realised he was being watched, and it was with reassurance that he looked back at her. Something roared in his chest when her cheeks turned pepper red, and he held her gaze. He wanted to see how long she could keep up the exchange without looking away.
It was the first time in years that he had looked at her so directly, and he came to the conclusion that, indeed, Hermione had become a very interesting woman. She had already lost her girlish features, her face was leaner and more angular, her brown eyes were penetrating, and her pink mouth was definitely quite eye-catching. He smiled through his nose when she gave up that battle of gazes and gave in, peering at her own plate.
Bill was aware that he was a handsome man, he didn't harbour any insecurity in that regard, despite the scar he carried on his face and his beard fortunately managed to partially hide. However, he couldn't help but feel intrigued by Hermione, since she was one of the few women who had always been as oblivious to him as he was to her. And just as he had paid attention to her that day, he could no longer divert his interest to anything else. He became curious and followed her every movement, the way she talked to the others, the strands of hair that escaped from her bun - very similar to the bun she wore at the Ministry that week - the marked lines of her collarbone and a few spots on her arms, which were exposed by the dark blue dress she wore. She had become a very, very interesting woman.
The redhead realised that he could easily become obsessed with the enigma that Hermione was to him when he caught himself staring at the woman once more as she hugged his brother, who had just announced that he would be a father. As soon as she raised her arms to wrap Ron in a warm embrace, Bill noticed that her blue dress had ridden up a little, revealing the fold behind her knees, and this very ordinary piece of skin caught his eye.
He kept trying to figure out if she still had feelings for the younger Weasley or if she was really happy about the news. Such a thought caused a stirring within Bill that he could not clearly identify. Hermione noticed the red-haired man's gaze on her and once again turned her attention away. The older Weasley shook his head and decided to go out for a smoke and clear his head a little. However, it didn't take him long to smell her and know that she had followed him.
"I thought you had put the cigarettes out", she commented, and he felt her approaching because the sweet smell coming from her neck was stronger. When she stood beside him, he turned to her.
"That pack was empty", Bill replied winking one eye and smiling mockingly. "The full one was in my pocket the whole time".
She laughed, and he liked the sound of her laughter. He couldn't remember ever seeing her laugh before. He was surprised when she asked him for a cigarette and took his cue to move closer to her. The subject was mild, and he purposely kept close to her body, because every time he did, she blushed, and that made something inside him feel victorious.
"Why haven't you ever tried to engage a relationship with anyone after everything?" she asked him, and he stared at her trying to figure out what was going on in her head. Deep down he had liked her pursuing the subject of Fleur. No one had done that since their divorce. He replied that he had never met anyone interesting, and when she again turned red and looked away from him, he became more intrigued.
"Why? Do you want me to marry you?", Bill asked. The little monster inside him was delighting in his teasing. He had lied that he knew she would ask him to marry her, he had asked only to see her get embarrassed. He was enjoying teasing Hermione.
He noticed that she was crossing her arms in front of her own body tightly, and he saw that the little hairs on her arm were shivering. He offered her his jacket and couldn't help but stare for a split second at the scar on her forearm when she reached out to take his jacket. They both had their scars, and it made Bill even more intrigued by her.
"So...am I wrong?"
"Would that be so awkward?", she asked, looking away again. Bill was grateful for that this time, because it allowed him to disguise the fact that he was actually surprised that she was definitely thinking of marrying him. He had spoken in jest, to tease her, to see her embarrassed. He could not see a single reason why she would really want to form an alliance with him, precisely with him.
"Why me?" Bill asked curiously.
"Because you're the only person I know who's still available" she replied. And it was a lie, he knew it was a lie. Nothing had gone unnoticed to Bill since Greyback's attack.
Nervousness warmed Hermione's skin, consequently making the sweet scent she had on her neck run stronger to Bill's nostrils. He could feel her muscles stiffening and her fingers nervously clenching her own arms under his jacket. She was lying, and he knew it. And it intrigued him.
He teased her, repaying her lie with an intimate truth of his own. He felt triumphant when she became nervous at the thought of Bill supplying his full-moon needs with her. Since Greyback's attack, Bill had strong predatory instincts during the full moon. Besides eating raw meat, he would become possessive, dominant and sometimes violent. On those days, Bill would not drink alcohol and would avoid situations that might feed his wilder instincts. In the beginning, it was common for him to fight in bars and relieve his tension by having sex with Fleur. His ex-wife liked the full moon. She liked it when Bill fucked her around every corner of their house and she liked it when he bought a fight for her in the streets. She had never tried to reassure him, on the contrary, she seemed to enjoy feeding that wild side of him. For a long time Bill didn't understand why, until the divorce also cleared his mind about it: Fleur liked Bill to fight over her, to claim her for him. Fleur didn't want a quiet love, she wanted someone who would fight violently for her all the time, she wanted someone who would feed her ego. And when Bill could no longer fulfill this narcissistic need of his wife, she abandoned him for another.
Bill had lived through hell more times than he would have liked and, in a way, was relieved at the separation. He didn't want a possessive, violent existence, at least not as long as he could be himself, away from the influence of the full moon. Yet there with Hermione, something inside his chest was moving like a caged animal. Images of her against a wall, with that skirt of her dress raised to her waist and her legs around his torso invaded his mind without asking permission. And it made him more intrigued than he already was. That night, which wasn't even a full moon night, Bill came home with his trousers too tight and took a cold shower.
.
It wasn't until the morning of the fourth day after dinner at The Burrow that Bill received an owl from Hermione. He woke up to the animal's pecks on his window and took the leg that wrapped around his waist off him, getting out of bed completely naked and walking to the window. He took advantage of the fact that he was already up and lit a cigarette, swallowing the smoke and calmly opening the parchment. A mocking smile escaped his lips when he read that Hermione had thought about the possibility of what they had talked about and would like to have dinner that day so they could sort some things out.
"Have you received good news?" a sly, newly awake voice reached Bill's ears and he stared at Samantha, who was in bed still curled up in the sheets.
"Interesting news, no doubt", he answered, putting out his cigarette and walking towards the bed, lying down on the brunette.
"You're very sexy smoking" she said, sliding under him.
"And you look very sexy naked in my bed" he replied, taking her mouth greedily and ripping the sheet between them.
Bill was enjoying his single life, having been involved with a number of women since his divorce. All of them with no strings attached. Charlie said that Bill had become a womanizer and constantly made the joke that Bill was a curse breaker and, in his spare time, a heart breaker. But Bill disagreed. He had always been completely honest with every woman he had ever been involved with. He knew what it was like to have a broken heart, and he had no claim to cause the same pain in anyone else.
He had fun, and they had fun. Samantha was his most recurrent lover. She was American and had been transferred from the Ministry in the United States to the Ministry in England, and the two had a very good relationship: she was the nearest thing to a friend to Bill, and the two of them recurrently shared a bed. This relationship had been going on for four years, with a few hiatuses whenever she became more seriously involved with someone else. During these periods, Bill was with others, usually temporary foreign employees. He didn't know if he had a thing for foreigners or if the fact that they were only in England for a short time suited Bill, who no longer wanted a serious relationship.
As soon as Samantha left his flat, saying she would stop by the house before work, Bill took a shower to wash the smell of sex and cigarettes from his body before heading off to another completely tedious day at the Ministry. It wasn't until his lunch break that he remembered he hadn't replied to Hermione, so he went to the local owl and wrote a letter to the witch, saying he accepted her invitation for dinner. He recommended they go to a restaurant he had discovered a few years earlier. The food was good, the atmosphere cosy and it was hardly crowded. He arranged to meet her directly in front of the place, around seven o'clock at night.
He decided to take advantage of the break to take a walk and smoke a cigarette, and wondered why Hermione was considering him for a wedding. He didn't want to get married again, he had joked about it with her only to feed his own ego. Something inside him wanted Hermione to find him attractive too, wanted to tease her. He was taken completely by surprise when she, in fact, confirmed that she was considering asking him to marry her. And she had lied. He wasn't the only available man.
Determined to clear things up over dinner, he leaned against a shop window, staring at the movement of the street. Hermione was a reasonable person, he remembered well how everyone said she was intelligent and extremely pragmatic, so he thought it would be quite easy to say that he was actually joking, and that he wouldn't marry her. He wouldn't marry her, but he could help her find a husband.
Staring at the movement of the street, he was surprised to see George crossing the street towards him.
"Bill!", the younger brother exclaimed. "How nice to see you here!"
"What are you doing here?", Bill answered nicely, throwing the cigarette butt on the ground and putting it out with his foot. With a wave of his wand, he put the now unlit cigarette butt in the trash.
"I had to sort some things out at Gringotts, Angelina is taking care of the shop", George explained. "Do you have time? I'm starving!"
"Sure, I just went out for lunch", the older man answered.
"Cigarettes don't feed, Little Bill. You're two pounds away from losing the position of best-looking Weasley to me, and Angelina won't like that".
The two laughed and Bill pointed to a coffee shop in the next block, and the two continued walking side by side.
"How's work?" George asked.
"Tedious, I spend more time answering memos than out in the field" Bill complained.
"Yes, I suppose that's the onus of having Shacklebolt as Minister" George replied. "Without dark wizards, all eaters in Azkaban and no corrupted objects, I don't think there's much left".
"Yeah, there's not much left at sight, Gringotts won't ever open up those dark vaults".
"But as everything has a silver lining", George continued. "Maybe the next Minister will be a complete incompetent and things will pick up again".
"I thought the next Minister would be Hermione", Bill commented, opening the door of the cafeteria for George to enter. The two of them made their way to an empty table and took off their coats, propping them up on the turned wooden chairs.
"Not likely, my little big brother" George replied, beckoning for a floating notepad and quill to come over to the table to jot down their orders.
"What do you mean?" Bill asked, interested, and automatically ordered a rare steak and a beer for the feather.
"I'll have the day's dish, please", George replied to the quill and turned his attention back to Bill. "Hermione has less than three years to get married and have a child, and it's just not going to happen. And you know what happens to people who break the law".
"But what if she does?" Bill asked, feeling uncomfortable.
"It won't happen. Hermione may play hard, but I know her", the younger man sipped his drink and talked as if he were talking about the weather, which was, for some reason, irritating Bill. "She won't marry unless it's for love".
"Love marriages last as long as loveless ones", Bill replied bitterly. "You seem to hold her in low regard".
"Okay, let's say she does get married and doesn't get kicked out of the magical world", George dropped his glass on the table. "In three months she would murder her husband and go to Azkaban. One way or another, she gets screwed".
"She's not capable of murdering someone" Bill replied in reflection and George giggled.
"Marry her then", the younger man replied teasingly. "And let's see how long you last".
Bill rolled his eyes and thanked the waitress, who brought the two of them their plates. He took a bite of his steak and put it in his mouth.
"I was joking" George justified himself. "Hermione is one of the best people I know and would make an ideal minister. But I was serious about the wedding. She doesn't stop for a second. First school, then the search for the… horcruxes…", he whispered the word. "Then the war, school again, then work. We all thought she'd be with Ron, but it didn't happen. And how to judge her? Ron was never enough for her. Hermione was born to be alone, but unfortunately the Ministry doesn't accept wizards and witches being happy alone".
George's words left Bill thoughtful. The fact that Hermione had been so dedicated and had given up so many things for what she believed in made Bill consider accepting the chestnut's proposal. She had spent the last ten years busy saving the magical community in all sorts of ways, so it was clear that in just a couple of years she wouldn't have time to marry for love. No, Hermione would never marry for love.
Bill knew from experience that love marriages don't last forever and cause as much suffering as those without affection. So he could not allow himself to feel sorry for Hermione without feeling sorry for himself along the way. George said that Hermione had been born to be alone, and Bill well knew that he too had been born to be alone. Perhaps, Bill thought, the two of them could help each other. If the two of them married, Hermione would stay in the magical community and earn her position as a Minister, while Bill would go on with his life as normal, but with the reassurance that his family's friend would be safe, and would not be married to someone who could mistreat her or make her life a living hell. Both of them, in a way, could win.