i won't regret a single day

William ‘Bill’ Arthur Weasley Introduction:   “To die, would be an awfully great adventure.” 

tw: blood, death, description of gore

{ cis-male , he/him-they/them , 31, domhnall gleeson } during the trial of voldemort’s last major conspirators, bill weasley was spotted. they work as senior curse breaker at gringotts. rumor has it they are thrillseeking and intelligent, but i’ve heard they’re melancholic and selfless. during the battle of hogwarts they fought for the order. when i think of them, i’m reminded of eyes wide as the moon they stare up, calloused hands, sandy shoes, scarred complexion surrounded by beauty and a smell of raw steak

There were very few times in his life when George had been stunned. ( when harry had given them the money to start their shop, when he’d found out fred was alive, when lina had written that she’d loved ) Now was one of those times. Seeing Bill on stage was like a fever dream. And he was actually good. How had he kept this a secret for so long? If George was friends with one of the most famous bands in the wizarding world, he certainly wouldn’t have kept quiet about it. Yet there was older brother, playing a guitar and singing on stage like he was born to do it. George wondered what other things Bill had been keeping from them. 

As his brother ended his last song, George cheered and clapped his hands for him. Quickly, he turned toward the closest waiter and grabbed two drinks from his tray. Then he started to push his way through the crowd. It wasn’t an easy thing to do. Everyone wanted Bill’s attention now. ( as if enough people hadn’t wanted it before ) However, George managed to shove his way through the crowd til he was next to his brother. He pushed the drink into his hand with a grin that only got bigger at the comment he made. “Joke?” he said. “I don’t even have one after that.” He slapped Bill on the back. “That was incredible. I didn’t know you could do that.” ( there was apparently a lot he didn’t know about his brother ) “Why didn’t you tell me you knew the Weird Sisters? I could have been getting into their concerts for years!” 

The tell tale blush, a trait all the Weasley’s couldn’t avoid rose on his cheeks as he tried to brush it off, but he couldn’t even wipe the elated smile off his face. There was so much his younger siblings didn’t know, some things he felt just had to be kept to themselves though- they all shared so much, having their own little things kept them separate enough from the hive mind. And he loved playing, but the fear of embarrassment or the ribbing he would get from those he loved most made him keep the guitar locked away in a cupboard. 

“It was just a hobby, but I could’ve been part of them you know? We went to school together, had all these plans but-” it was a different time back then, he wanted adventure and he got it and he wouldn’t change it because it ultimately led him to Fleur and now Victoire. “Oh I see, use and abuse me to get what you want out of it.” he said, teasingly. He always had offers for tickets, but all of them had been so busy with their lives and most were too young at the time. “If you want to meet them though, just say, Myron, Kierley and I regularly meet up for drinks-” he said gladly, feeling he could at least give him that after keeping it secret for so long. 

“Mum never agreed with them, but then that’s mum. She’s going to lose her shit when she finds out. But so worth it man.” 

“Rooooooon.” he had to shout as he pushed through some of the crowd, slinging his arm around the youngest brother as he pushed a drink into his hand. He was a little bit more than buzzed, still running on a high of performing with the Weird Sisters and being baby free for the first night in 8 months. It was good seeing all his siblings out at the party and he wanted to make sure all of them were having as much fun as he. And he had left George making eyes at Angelina, Percy was attempting to chat up one of the waitresses, Charlie was somewhere on the dancefloor and Ginny was off causing trouble somewhere which only left Ron as the one he hadn’t checked in on. 

“You better be drinking bro, the one chance we get to be away from mum and make tits of ourselves. and you’re having a dance, I insist- we’ll find you someone. This muggle music aint bad is it?” 

Playing was great, like riding a bike his fingers knew the chords and he felt himself for the first time in a long while, light and genuinely care free as they blasted the rock number out to the crowd, his smile was huge in between instrumental breaks and joining in for the chorus, voice throaty and deep against Myron’s roar and shrill. He was still laughing and smiling when it was over and he stood on the stage, feeling slightly embarrassed yet elated he was able to do one thing he had wanted to do. Thanking the group and promising to be back for another he jumped down from the small stage and began making his way through the crowd. He needed a drink, a strong one and he found one pressed into his hands as if by magic, but turning to see who had done it he felt himself groan and he ran a hand across his face. “Whatever joke you’re going to say, out with it. I don't care. Just don’t tell mum.” 

“Did you, Vic? Maybe one day mum will teach you some wandless magic so you can help dad here.” Fleur herself was quite good at it, but it had taken lots of years of hard work, but it was something that had come in handy plenty of time, a great tool that could be useful for Victoire when she grew up. It was beautiful to see their little daughter as curious as ever, with a wonderful father that gave her the safety to explore knowing nothing bad would ever happen to her, not as long he was around. It was at times like this when Fleur reminded herself of how lucky she was.

“Mon amour,” she tried to argue, but ultimately accepted this was a lost battle and took a seat at the table. Being called Mrs Weasley was still new to her, even after all these years. The only other Mrs Weasley was Bill’s mother, a wonderful woman, and Fleur didn’t think she was in any way as good a mother and wife as Molly was. But she loved to hear Bill calling her like that. “Can you believe it’s her first Christmas? It’s difficult to remember a time when Victoire wasn’t with us.” Like it didn’t make sense, because she had always belonged with them somehow.

“Whaaaat, that would be so cool  wouldn’t it Vic?” he questioned, giving her an exaggerated ‘wow’ face as he placed the juice on the table and turned back to grab some glasses. Fleur’s talents were mesmerising, so much that every day he continued to be in awe of his wife. He couldn’t of found anyone better in his lifetime and he thanked any and all gods daily that she had picked him of all people. 

“Ma chérie .” he replied, slightly teasing at her admonishment as he grabbed the last bowl of fruit and placed it alongside the other bits of breakfast and took the seat next to Fleur, moving Vic to sit on his lap. He loved it when she spoke French, even when she was frustrated or annoyed. “I know what you mean.” he mused, looking between his daughter and wife fondly. It was hard, being in such a grey area between trying to make a life after such a tragic event, to the stress and silent pain each time the test had come back negative, the doubt lingering in the quiet moments between them, living in isolation on the beach between work and visiting other members of the family. Now, it felt like life was in colour and he could see the constant beauty in it. 

“To think, we have many more to come- so many firsts we get to experience, together. Mum no doubt has gone overboard, she won’t even remember this Christmas but I bet my next months wage she’s already knitted her a baby Weasley jumper.” he said with a chuckle. 

charlie brought the mug to his lips, taking a few sips of the tea, a part of him wishing there was more brandy. though, more alcohol sounded like a bad idea right now - the weasley had barely slept last night, finishing up an old article about dragonology before he spent the rest of the night at the library, looking up appearance altering spells. he didn’t like being stuck in the office all day. it was.. suffocating. he missed his old job, the outdoors; it would help clear his mind too, but leaving england right now was not an option. “i tried to do some researching. there aren’t many options that would last this long, besides polyjuice.. but even then.. there might be some dark magic involved and it’s almost impossible to find out anything about all that. we can’t know what goes through their fucked up minds.” it was hard to find information about the dark arts and charlie was desperate. if one of them was willing to work with him, then.. “you think- you think we buried someone else? fucking hell, i..” the thought was terrifying. “before we allow ourselves to believe that fred is really alive,” even saying the sentence out loud gave him hope. something charlie wanted to avoid. “we have to talk to someone who knows about this sort of magic.” hell, if he had to ask ( or force ) a death eater for help, he would. this was his brother they were talking about. “if fred’s still out there, if they did something like that to him, they would know. someone has to.”

Bill hadn’t even known where to start, or what a good plan could be. Whoever this Fred was, it wasn’t theirs at the moment. If George was right and it was him, truly him, how could they approach a man who had no memory of them. If it were Bill, he would call them all crazy and get one of those muggle restraining orders. But it was equal frustrating not being able to fully know the full truth and what indeed had happened. Or why someone was pretending to be him. Was it deatheaters still at large just being callous bastards in tormenting them more. “Dark magic is a possibility, who knows what shit they were playing around with or what they learnt from You- from Voldemort.” he could say it now, he made himself say the name, he was gone, he wouldn’t live in the fear of him no longer. “And we could indeed of buried someone unknown or innocent- it was a crazy time, I hate to think who’s in there, who’s body we cried over.” he added, running a hand across his eyes. The sleepless nights from Victoire, his work and now trying to deal with this was taking it’s toll. He felt more like sixty than in his thirties. “Who could we even ask, they’re either dead, held up in Azkaban awaiting these trials-” finally, five years to just bring them to trial, it was a joke. “-or have managed to wriggle out of being involved- we can’t just march into the ministry and ask to speak to them in jail-” he mused, struggling to recall anyone who was still out and about who would know or who had been close enough to possibly know. “Malfoy is a no go, from what I recall he was excused or a deal was made, I don’t know the full extent- half the Slytherin’s still around refused to fight and left as far as I know so they wouldn’t be involved, it’s hopeless.” 

Fred really had to hand it to Angelina, she really helped him out in remembering certain spots of Diagon Alley. She gave him little tips that made things easier. Dare he say, it but it was starting to feel as almost as if he had been here his whole life. He was getting quite familiar with it all, with the twists and turns, with where each shop was, to find what he needed when he needed it. She had given him a proper look on it all. That was how he found himself standing outside the animal shop, he loved his owl but sometimes a man needed something more to keep him company.

He didn’t keep track of time, why should he? He had no family to meet up with, he was off work until the new year, and he had all the time in the world to do whatever he pleased. With his hands in his pockets, he heard a throat clear. He turned and tilted his head slightly. Looking at the other man he gave the ginger a tight smile. There it was again, the look. A look as if you saw someone familiar, someone you recognized, or perhaps someone you knew. Ever since he ran into the owner of the joke shop, George he was certain that was his name, he knew where the confusion came from. They looked almost identical.

“Sorry is there something I can help you with…” pausing, his lips pursed in thought. “I didn’t quite catch your name…”

Now he regretted it, because he had no idea what to say or what reason to give to explain why he had stopped him in the street. Even if they shared similar characteristics, red hair being the most alongside the same nose, but the rest of his face was marred by the scars across them. Maybe he could just pass it off as a mistaken identity. 

“No, sorry, I saw the red hair and thought you were someone I knew. Our- My family kind of share the red hair traits and there’s a lot of us, it’s an easy mistake to make.” he said, refraining from wanting to reach out then and there and just hug him. Maybe it would help, maybe it would jog his memory or maybe it could just be enough for Bill to accept his brother was indeed alive even if it wasn’t his brother right now. 

“Um, it’s Bill. Well, William but I prefer Bill. Bill Weasley.” he held out his hand, fingers twitching just a little. 

That was thing about Bill. He wasn’t lack their mother. ( no nagging or pushing for more information ) If they didn’t want to talk about it, he said his peace and left it at that. It was something that George admired about him, really. ( he could never do that; not push where his family was concerned; he loved them too deeply not to push ) Maybe that was why Bill was older brother, because he knew when to let things go. 

“You did a great job,” George said. By the time most of his siblings were in Hogwarts, Bill had been grown and go one to work as a cursebreaker. ( the coolest job ever it seemed when he was a kid ) He’d been Head Boy and very popular. All the younger Weasleys had wanted to be like him at some point, George assumed. “You’ll do great. Vic is lucky to have you, you know.” ( i was lucky to have you, he thought ) 

“That bad?” he asked. George was surprised. Vic was in a good mood nearly every time she saw him. ( that he showed her different party tricks might have had something to do with it ) He never figured she’d have trouble sleeping. ( he wondered if kids had nightmares like everyone else did after the war; if in some terrible way the war had managed to affect even the children who weren’t born yet ) “You know Vic is welcome at my flat any time. Bring her over and we’ll eat a bunch of sugar and bounce off the walls before we crash.” 

He tried to take comfort and find truth in George’s words, that he was going to be great and Victoire was indeed lucky. That nothing else could ever go wrong and she would grow up healthy and happy and loved by all. If only that was true, the fear that resided in him daily, at thinking one day Victoire would follow in her dad’s footsteps perhaps a bit more than people bargained for. Mixed with the diluted Veela blood from Fleur and his wolf blood, had they brought a child into the world or someone who would face such torment and ridicule if it manifested? He had no idea how these things worked. And no one to talk to about it. 

“Not the greatest.” Otherwise we’d all be here right now. he murmured, slightly more melancholy than he intended. “Yeah, maybe she’s just a finicky baby, or it’s her teething or something magic related, I don’t know.” he mused, thinking he should know more about babies seeing as he had been around so many growing up. 

“But I can assure you, if you feed her sugar, Fleur will kill you.” he added, trying to move past the momentary feeling of sadness and make it lighter. “And I won’t stop her because my wife terrifies me just as much as our mother. But if you’re willing to babysit, I’ll talk with Fleur. Who knows, might help you more having someone else to look after. Maybe Angelina can help?” he added with a hidden grin, taking another drag of the cigarette. 

George hummed knowing full well that there was no way Bill could have lived with that. He might not be as protective as their mum was, but he was still their ( cool ) older brother. He might share a smoke with George, but he wouldn’t leave him locked in a tomb with curses that could end his life. Besides, George liked to think that he was in the running for the top three of Bill’s favorite siblings. ( number one went to Ginny of course ) 

He shrugged. “You’ve got me there.” Fred had been the first in line to forgive Percy. Of course, George had been right behind him. ( even though he’d wanted to strangle his brother while he was working for the ministry ) He couldn’t say he understood the struggle that Percy went through, he knew that he’d struggled. ( george had his own ambitions after all and he understood wanting to chase those; what he didn’t understand was pushing your family down to do it ) 

When Bill mentioned him smiling more, George turned to look at him. “Waxing poetic are we?” he said. “Well, let me think, it’s because the whole family got to be together for Christmas, and I’m just so excited about it.” He batted his eyelashes just to make sure that Bill understood he was being sarcastic. ( even though what he’d said was a lie; they all weren’t here )

“You are a great role model.” George didn’t know one better really. “Look at how all of us turned out. And don’t count Perce. He obviously didn’t look up to you since he had his nose in a book all the time.” He took a drag of his cigarette as he listened to Bill talk about Vic and her sleeping troubles. “Why don’t you just let her sleep with you and Fleur? Seems like that would be the solution that gets you and her the most sleep.” He shrugged. “I don’t know. Sleepless nights don’t sound so bad.”

He shot him a look of half amused, half annoyance at his sarcasm before nodding as if he believed the words coming from him. “Okay, be like that. Just know it’s been noticed and it’s nice and I’ll leave it at that.” he muttered, turning around a quickly peer through one of the windows, no one had noticed them outside and he clocked one figure he was still curious about before turning back once more. 

At being called a great role model, a toothy grin graced his lips. Oh, if only, he thought to himself. But it still warmed his heart. He had in a way, been a third parent to a lot of them. He was proud of them all, even Percy. “I guess I did my best, now I just gotta do even better with Victoire.” he mused, wondering if he was going to end up channelling either their mum or dad as a parent. He hoped more like their dad, but who knew, everyone was different when it came to being an actual parent. 

“She slept in the same room and the same bed as us for a short while, but even then we didn’t get much sleep because she struggled to settle and half the night we both just stared terrified something was going to happen.” she was such a miracle to them both, although four years wasn’t a lot to try, it certainly was more than most young married couples and for a short while, they had worried something had affected them from the war. “If you’re happy having sleepless nights, feel free to babysit. I don’t even remember what a solid six hours feel like.” he added with a laugh. 

Shell Cottage was never quiet ever since Victoire had been born, and Fleur wouldn’t change a thing. It was unusual to open her eyes, feeling completely rested, and realize it hadn’t been the little girl’s cries that had brought her back from slumber. Blinking to get used to the sunlight illuminating the room, a sigh escaped her lips at the sight of her husband’s empty side of the bed. Stretching a little to get the feeling of her limbs again, Fleur got up and reached for a fluffy sweater.

It was the sweet voice that brought a smile to her face. There was nothing lovelier than the way Bill talked to Victoire, it made Fleur fall in love all over again with her husband. Fleur leaned against the doorframe, looking at Victoire’s eyes staring at her father like he was the most wonderful person in the world, and Bill definitely was. “Morning, love,” she greeted, walking over to him. Fleur gave him a kiss and then smiled at Victoire. “I see you’re daddy’s little helper today! Yes, you are! My darling girl. Here, let me help you two.” She went to get the juice.

The smile on his face, a smile only reserved for Fleur stretched across his face as his eyes fluttered closed momentarily upon her lips upon his. Even after all this time, every kiss set his body alight and his heart to beat just that little bit faster. “Morning, beautiful.” he greeted back, before pulling a face towards Victoire, who’s gummy smile widened towards her mum. “She’s been very helpful, stopped dad from burning the croissants and even tried to use a spoon to stir the coffee.” he added, Fleur already going to get juice stopped him giving her the play by play.

“-Hey, this is us making breakfast for you. Sit that lovely butt down Mrs Weasley. You deserve to be waited on.” he admonished, walking over to take the juice from her, pressing another quick kiss to the top of her head. 

He felt like he’d been knocked sideways, ever since George had broken the news to him and the rest of the family. How was it possible? How were they supposed to take this and roll with it when it felt like he and they had been gut punched once again. Who did they grieve over? Bury and stand at the side crying for? How could he simply ‘ignore’ the fact his brother was alive. The family had been in uproar since, so many arguments had started up once again over what the right plan of attack could be. Bill still didn’t know where he stood. So distracted, he couldn’t even focus at Gringott’s and had instead taken it upon himself to walk the cobbles in search for food and maybe some inspiration on how to deal. 

And it was just as he turned the corner from Carkitt that he saw him at a distance. At first his thought was to address George, having spent so long since the battle only addressing him. Until he noticed one obvious sign. Both ears. Like breath had been stolen from him, he stopped in his tracks and looked pained as he wondered if this was destiny and fate giving him the sign he needed. He looked so healthy, so happy and so....alive. Memories of his body flashed before him, how he had wept at that moment. He could just ignore it, turn around and leave it be. But instead he took another few steps forward, approaching Fred and cleared his throat.

“Hey, excuse me-” here we go, he thought. If anything, he could just see for himself he was well and he was here and if that meant pretending and playing along with the lie, he would force himself too. 

“Who’s the cutest little Weasley in the world? You are, yes you are.” he crooned, Victoire balanced on his hip as he laid out the breakfast items he’d acquired onto the kitchen table. Victoire had been unsettled for a couple of hours and Bill had taken it upon himself to soothe and feed her whilst Fleur still slept. But it was Christmas day and they weren’t expected at the Burrow for a good few hours yet. Which meant him being able to make breakfast for his wife, with of course ample help from Victoire. 

“First Christmas, would you believe it? You’re going to have such a good time and be so spoiled and grandma is going to give you so many cuddles and hugs. You think mummy will like her breakfast?-” Victoire looked up at him, gums wrapped around a ice ring, soothing her mouth from little teeth beginning to poke through. “-I’m going to take that as a yes.” he muttered, moving to pick up the plate of croissants and pain au’s alongside fresh fruit. He gently ‘hmmed’ a song as he worked, hearing just a faint creak on the floorboards in the hallway