#sweetgingerpie

Fleur apperated onto the doorstep of the flat she shared with the man who held her fragile heart in his hands. She juggled a box of untouched brownies in her arms that she had carted all the way across London as she worked to let herself into the dark empty flat. She waved her wand unenthusiastically igniting the light bulbs brighting the room. Fleur’s defeated body dropped into the soft cushions of the sofa before setting down the box on the table.

Frowning she reached forward taking one of the squares of brownie she had made from scratch specially for Bill. In an attempt to comfort the churn of emotions she was experiencing letting the chocolate dance across her tongue’s taste buds and fill her bloodstream with sugar.

She had decided it would be a nice idea to surprise Bill with his favourite sweet treat as he worked overtime that evening at Gringotts. He had been working overtime every week and she wanted to reward his hard work. But when she arrived he was no where to be found. She searched all the places she knew and came to the conclusion he had travelled deep down into the vaults hidden far underground, a place in the bank she didn’t like to venture to. So she had inquired with one of the goblins but he had assured her that Bill was not working that evening nor had he ever worked overtime. Fleur walked away feeling foolish and embarrassed.

England wasn’t known for warm weather. More often than not, their little beach on the English coast was plagued by overcast and chilly winds. But, even a broken clock was right twice a day, and today appeared to be that exception. There was a spike in temperature with not a cloud in the sky, and the happy family of four decided to take advantage of it. Bill was able to take the day off to spend time with his family. That was the biggest advantage to no longer being employed by Gringotts. He was lucky enough to establish his own work schedule and he alone got to dictate how much work would take up his life. He was guilty of throwing himself into work at the end of the war. It was an unhealthy coping mechanism that Fleur helped to pull him out of. And when Victoire was born, there was an even greater incentive to spend more time with their growing family. He was grateful for Fleur and their two girls for giving him purpose when the Order disbanded. Now instead of relying on curse-breaking to balance his serotonin, he was spending time with his three favorite girls on their private beach.

Victoire was giggling wildly, the cold ocean water splashing over her toes as she held onto her Papa’s hand. In the background, Dominique and her mother were building a sandcastle after Dominique had collected enough shells to decorate the structure. Bill cherished spending time with his two little lions, especially when their childhoods were short and temporary. He knew that he’d miss them terribly once they got older. If he worked too much he would’ve missed moments such as these, and he would never forgive himself. They were very fortunate that they were able to raise a family on his salary. Being a skilled curse-breaker made him into a valuable commodity, so it wasn’t difficult for him to find work after the war. Curses were afflictions that impacted individuals and their families. He slept well at night knowing that his talents were being used for the greater good and not to make a certain goblin-owned bank wealthy. He could share his work with pride, and he hoped that he was making his own family proud of him.

“Put down those tools and give your more attractive brother a hug!”

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Bill must’ve asked Fleur for the hundredth time that evening. But, Bill wasn’t the only one. Molly was so nervous for the other Order members that she wound up creating a marvelous spread in order to busy her anxious mind. Her sons and husband were about to embark on a dangerous mission. That mission: Retrieve Harry from Privet Drive and, hopefully, safely escort him back to the Burrow. There wasn’t a single Order member that refused this mission. Mundungus Fletcher, whom Mad-Eye had pressured into accompanying them, did not count.

He and Fleur were standing in the narrow, second story hallway: the only space at the Burrow that granted them a private moment from the other people in the house. The pair of them had been staying at the Burrow for the past several weeks, and in the days now leading up to their wedding. Their sleeping arrangements had been less than satisfactory as of late. Once Charlie arrived, Fleur was pushed out of Bill’s room and into Ginny’s. Bill hadn’t shared a room with Charlie since their infancy, but the two men were like boys again when they got back together. But, he had missed his fiancé and was eager to whisk her away to their new home.

“‘Scuse us, mate.”

“Pardon me, m’Lady.” Fred and George spoke as they stepped between Bill and Fleur and made their way down the stairs.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Now it was Remus’s turn to be afraid. But, from Bill’s perspective, he had a greater reason to be. Tonks was pregnant, but not incapable of defending herself or others.

“Remus, my darling, I’ll be fine.” She tried to reassure him.

“Keep the kettle on and the fire warm, Mollywobbles. We’ll be back before you know it.” Arthur tried to reassure his wife as Ginny hugged her body to her father’s side. She too was nervous, but Ginny was silent; resilient, like her father. Bill, however, was like his mother and everyone around him could see him fidgeting with the rings on his fingers and pacing through the living room. He wasn’t worried for himself, of course, but Fleur. By assuming Harry’s identity, she was turning herself into an even bigger target. He was going to fly her into hostile territory and his grip on the thestral would prevent him from defending her. However, he tried to remind himself that he and Fleur had dueled each other many times and she always bested him. He needed to exhibit confidence in her capabilities as a witch and focus on returning them safely to the Burrow.

“Let’s go! Hurry up!” Mad-Eye lectured as he stepped across the threshold, waiting for the others to join him outside.

“I am going to start dinner, but keep going wizout me.” Fleur whispered against Bills ear before she stood, using Bills leg to push herself up onto her feet from the sofa that she had been squeezed in between Bill and Tonks as order business was discussed. 

She felt the blood drain from her head as she moved from the sitting room full of order members and into the kitchen where the voices began to fade. She grabbed the bench for support, catching herself while she swayed with dizziness before lowering herself into the kitchen floor. Fleur pulled her legs up to her chest letting her head rest against her knees, her breathing had become shallow and quick as her body fought to pump oxygen to her brain. She took long deep breaths in and out endeavouring to control her drumming heart and spinning head. 

“Fleur?” A voice filled the kitchen sending a jolt though Fleurs body. Her head shot up and collided with the cabinet behind her. “Uh.” She winced before responding to the voice. “Yes?” She massaged the back of her head. 

“What are you doing down there?” Molly rounded the end of the counter and peered down at a very pale looking Fleur. “I was feeling a little dizzy but I am better now.” Fleur spoke using the counter top to pull herself back up onto her feet. Her face flushed red, embarrassment driving her to her feet long before her body was ready to be vertical again.

“You don’t look well Fleur.” Molly diagnosed, “Sit down.” Molly pulled out one of the seats from the kitchen table and guided Fleur into it. 

“I am fine, only tired and I ‘ave not eaten as much as I should ‘ave today, eets been so busy around ‘ere today wiz ze guests staying and ze order meeting. And wiz Beel being away at work all night I ‘ave not been sleeping well.” Fleur tried to explain as Molly moved through the kitchen. The fear grew each evening as Fleur watched Bill disappear into the night for his evening shifts at Gringotts. She worried each and every time that he left out that door, worried for his safety, worried if he would return to her. The dark and eerie nights brought fear that consumed her, it filled her with terror and unrest. The darkness outside shell cottage brought the shadows that moved, the noises that sparked her imagination and the nightmares that plagued her sleep. There was no Bill to calm those fears, just an empty bed and an empty house. Most nights they sheltered wizards and witches that sought refuge and a place to hide in the spare bedrooms of Shell Cottage, she wasn't completely alone on those nights but they couldn't give Fleur the comfort and peace that her husband did by just being there by her side. 

“Eat.” Molly instructed placing a piece of chocolate cake in front of Fleur. “If you haven’t been eating your blood sugar will be low.” 

Fleur followed her mother-in-laws instruction, using the fork to shovelled the sweet brown dessert into her mouth, the icing staining her lips. “Thank you Molly.”

“Why don’t you go upstairs and rest?”

“Thank you but I am fine, I will finish preparing dinner.” 

Fleur tried to stand but Molly pushed her back down. “I can do that.” 

“I am fine, I will rest once Beel ‘as gone off to work.” 

“Is this the first time you’ve felt dizzy?” Molly questioned. 

“I felt a little dizzy zis morning and I vomited but I zeenk eet eez something I ate zat my body did not like, I did not ‘ave an appetite since zen, but zere was no time to eat if I was ‘ungry.” 

Molly looked at Fleur up and down. 

“Are you pregnant?” She questioned. 

“Pregnant? Do not be silly No.” she shook her head with a laugh. 

“I cannot be pregnant. My avoir ses règles...menstruations? ‘ave been regular. Ze last one was lighter zan normal i zeenk eet must be all ze stress. Ze same zing ‘appen during ze triwizard tournament.”

Molly looked at Fleur in unbelief and wandered out of the kitchen leaving Fleur alone while she lifted another piece of cake into her mouth feeling her dizziness easing with the sugar her body was beginning to digest.

“Try this.” Molly returned to the kitchen with a vial of translucent liquid. “If you pee in a cup and then add this potion, about a teaspoon, if it turns pink your pregnant.” She explained handing it over to Fleur. 

“Thank you, but eet eez impossible, we ‘ave been doing everyzing we can not to.” Fleur desired to be a mother, to share a baby with Bill but she had agreed with Bill it was too dangerous with the war raging throughout England. Bill had explained how strongly he felt about bringing a child into the world with fighting and persecution and fear. She too feared that scenario, her baby, her love and joy hurt and killed by the death eaters turned her stomach. 

“Just try it.” Molly replied turning to the fridge. 

Fleur studied the vial briefly, her heart wandering off with her mind imagining creating a family with Bill, a little boy with ginger hair smiling up at her while he was snuggled safely in her arms. Quickly the daydream turned dark, death eaters swirling around her, fighting to take her baby. She forced her way back to reality, to her kitchen, pocketing the vial and moving to help Molly. 

               ...

Fleurs eyes snapped open, her body trembling in fear, her heart pounding, she sat up looking around the room suspicious and paranoid that the death eaters from her dreams had followed her into her home. She pushes herself up off the sofa where she had fallen asleep, her camomile tea sat half drunk on the end table. Fleur hadn’t been sleeping well while Bill was away working nights, it always took her hours to fall asleep and she never stayed asleep very long before she woke up startled by dark nightmares. She rubbed her heavy eyes before checking the time, there was still three whole hours before Bill was expected home. She reached down for her mug, the tea now cold as she carried it back to the kitchen. Fleur dropped the mug into the sink turning, raising her wand “nox.” She whispered, the kitchen collapsing into darkness. She began to climb the stairs when she heard a knock at the door. Fleur froze in place, she slowly turned on the second step and eyed the door, listening for any sound. The knock sounded again. She quietly moved towards the front door, raising her wand. “Who’s there.” She spoke loudly, emitting confidence ans power through her voice.

“It’s me Reg Catermole.”

“What song was playing when you, Mary and ze kids arrived?” Fleur questioned

“Flighty Aphrodite by Celestina Warbeck.” The voice answered from behind the door.”

Fleur sighed in relief as she unlocked the door and pulled it open finding a very tired and filthy Reg who stumbled over the threshold.

“You are ‘ome early. Eez everyzing ok? Where eez Beel?.” She poked her head out the door searching for her husband in the darkness but it was still and empty.

“Bill sent me home, he’s covering my shift. It’s hard work, I work at the ministry I am not use to hard physical labour.” Reg spoke exhaustion lining his voice. “You have a very kind husband.”

“Thank you.” Fleurs eyes shining with pride. “E eez one of the kindest wizards I know.” Fleurs heart swelled with love for Bill, his kindness, his selflessness and willingness to help others was just a few of the reasons she loved him dearly. Her chest ached, missing him even more than usual in that moment, wishing he was there with her.

“Go up and rest you look tired.” Fleur sent him up to bed, before checking the locks and spells protecting the door before she followed up to her own room.

Fleur shifted against the sheets, rousing from a heavy slumber, slowly and reluctantly she opened her eyes finding a brightness behind her eye lids. She rocketed up pulling her wrist up to her eyes squinting at the round face, reading 5:40. Her bounding heart slowed as she realised she hadn’t slept through Bill’s return home. She lifted her head and surveyed the room, the lightbulbs were still glowing, illuminating the bedroom from the night before it had been the light fixtures not the sun that she had first concluded. The book that she had been reading the earlier was still open beside her. She must have fallen asleep reading. She had been wide awake after being woken by a nightmare earlier that morning, she had started reading to keep her mind of the fear that bubbled inside her and in a hope to try send her back to sleep.

Fleur pulled back the covers and swung her feet over the side of the bed, her feet searching for her slippers. A wave of nausea washed over her, her head spinning. Her fingers clutched at the sheets below, wishing away the feeling, but it didn’t improve, it only built. Fleur flung herself up onto her feet, using all of her energy and speed to transport herself to the bathroom, just in time for the little of last nights dinner she had consumed to fly from between her lips and into the toilet bowl. She knelt on the cool tile floor as she heaved over the toilet, her heart racing as she tried to force air into her lungs between each hurl. She came to rest against the bathroom wall, trying to catch her breath once the heaving had subsided. 

She forced herself up knowing Bill would be home soon. She splashed cold water against her face and set her toothbrush to work washing away the foul taste that lingered in her mouth before emerging from the bathroom looking washed out and exhausted. 

Fleur stood at the window overlooking the back garden of Shell Cottage, the sun hadn’t yet peaked above the horizon but the darkness was surrendering and the stars had disappeared. The rising sun sent shimmering rays across the hills behind their house, the sky painted with gold and pink flecks. Her eyes scoured the space beyond the window for movement, her ears listening for the sound of an arrival over the chirping of the birds waking. 

With a crack her eyes bolted to where the sound had come from and found a tall shadow crossing the lawn. 

She flung open the door, stepping out onto the porch, pulling her robe tighter as the crisp cool morning air bit at her exposed skin. “My Sweet Ginger Pie.” She exclaimed, her eyes twinkling with excitement and relief, wasting no time she wrapped her arms around his neck, holding him tightly against her body. She could feel a dampness press through her thin pyjamas from Bills wet and mucky work clothes but it held no interest to Fleur, all that was important to her now was having her husband back home and in her arms. 

“Ow was your night?” She questioned stepping back, her arms releasing him from her hug but weaving her fingers around his as she pulled him inside, closing the cool morning air behind them. 

“I will start on breakfast if you want to shower?” She rose up on her tiptoes and placed a gentle kiss against his cheek, sending him upstairs before turning back into the kitchen. 

Fleur was slow in preparing breakfast, pulling items out of the fridge was a battle this morning as she listened to the running water of the shower upstairs. With the pan heating up on the stove top she opened a bag of bacon, reaching in and placing the rashers in the pan, it didn’t take long before the meaty smell wafted into her nose and turned her stomach. Fleur felt her belly lurch, her torso contracted as she gagged, the temporary colour from her face from Bills return now draining. She forced her legs to move towards the sink where her body heaved choking on the last of what was left in her gut. Her fingers blanched white as she clutched the side of the counter. 

When there was nothing left, she lent over to open the window letting the fresh morning air leak into the kitchen and rid the house of the nauseating smell of bacon. She wiped the green bile smeared against her chin with the backside of her hand. I only bought that bacon last week, she thought to herself, covering her mouth and nose with her hand as she turned off the stove with the almost burnt bacon and threw the cooked meat into the rubbish bin along with the bag of raw rashes concluding that it must have gone bad for it to smell that terrible.

Of all the outcomes that the healers had suggested they prepare for, this was not one of them. A week before they had induced labor, Bill had already picked out a headstone that they would use to mark his grave on the sandy hill overlooking the cottage. Bill was prepared to dig, by hand, a small plot to lower their second child down into. However, instead, the healers proposed that they ready their home for their latest arrival. Bill dusted off Dominique’s old crib and prepared the bassinet for Louis’s arrival.

As excited as Bill was, he was also very nervous. Louis had grown to the standard size of a newborn; he was nursing, hungrily; and he seemed okay. The healer in charge of his case had been optimistic, but she emphasized the fact that Louis was a unique case. For all they knew, this was the most normal his life would ever be. They needed to stay vigilant about his health, and monitor his progress: regular check-ups and routine medication had been prescribed to keep him going and to keep him safe.

While Fleur had completed the paperwork to check Louis out of hospital, Bill lowered the sleeping baby into his car seat. He was still very small and delicate. It seemed almost impractical to take him to Shell Cottage when everything here was designed to keep him alive. He knew that it was his nerves still creeping in, that they would be able to bring him up at home without issue.

The ride home was without issue with Bill making a handful of stops so Fleur could nurse him. Otherwise, the ride home was pleasant as Bill kept taking glances at his wife and their napping newborn in the backseat. Traditional magical transportation was too much for the newborn, so it was rather a tradition itself for Bill to drive them back to the coast.

Waiting for them at Shell Cottage was Fleur’s mother and their two toddlers. As he pulled up to the back of the house, Mrs. Delacour was waiting in the back kitchen doorway with the two girls at her feet.

“Attendez ici, les filles,” she spoke, holding the two girls back while their mother and fathered removed Louis’s car seat, “I-I want to see Louis!” Victoire exclaimed, “Shhh, ma chère, vous aurez votre chance. Patience,” she warned her eldest grandchild.

No matter if he’s pulled over, he’ll just use the Confundus Charm.

He was erratically travelling East along the B3293 motorway towards Tinworth in his refurbished green Jaguar E-Type. This was a much safer form of transportation, funny enough. Every member of the Weasley family was being tracked by the new Ministry, and Bill’s utmost priority was keeping the location of Shell Cottage, and Fleur, a secret. The latter had been stuck at Shell Cottage since their wedding three months earlier and she hadn’t held back in expressing her displeasure. But, it wasn’t just claustrophobia that was settling in with her. She was, rather unexpectedly, seven weeks pregnant. His mother, who doubled as their midwife since they were unable to go to hospital, had voiced her concerns to her eldest son. She had delivered all but one of her children during the First Wizarding War, and she would not wish that burden on any other family.

But, there was another problem: Fleur was part-Veela. She was classified as a ‘Half-Breed’ by the new Ministry and, therefor, a target for ridicule, discrimination, and persecution. Fleur was in danger, and their unborn child was, too. Their wedding had also been an illegal ceremony, and they were being sought for interrogation.

At the time, which was around twenty minutes ago, Bill expressed an almost confident optimism regarding the future of the pregnancy and their growing family. He had behaved very stoically this past week when they found out. However, his turbulent driving may have been an indication of an underlining fear.

As he narrowly missed an oncoming vehicle, he swerved back into the left lane before skidding off onto a gravel turnout, stopping the car abruptly.