Drabble(s): Bill Weasley
Characters/Pairings: Bill, Bill/Fleur, various other Weasleys
Word Count: ~1,150 total (for 5 drabbles)
Rating: PG to PG-13.
Summary: 5 drabbles revolving around BIll Weasley. Some fluff, some angst.
Author's Notes: Done for my Drabble Request Challenge for chimbomba (Still open for requests!). Sorry Val, I just realized you asked for gen!fic. Erg, oops. :B I went back and added in Fleur's accent after I was done. [unbeta'd, minor editing]
1. Sleeping In
“Bill, you ‘ave to get up or you will be late for work!”
“I don’t want to,” Bill mumbled into his pillow. Fleur’s hand came down on his shoulder and he felt her lips brush against his ear a moment later.
“Eef you do not get up, zey will fire you.”
“That’s fine, I don’t mind.”
“Bill, you lazy man!” Fleur laughed lightly, her breathe a soft flutter against his neck.
He rolled over and smiled up at her. He brushed some hair out of her face and placed a soft kiss on her lips.
“How about-” he began, kissing her again, “-I call Gringott’s today-” his hands wrapped around her hips, “-And tell them I’m sick?” he muttered into her lips.
She laughed again and let her head fall onto his bare chest. “You called in sick last week, Bill. I do not think you ‘ave ever been zis sick in your life.”
“I have Dragon Pox.”
“Once every week?”
“Sure.”
She laughed, but when he rolled over her and kissed her again, she made no move to argue her point. She liked his sick days as much as he did.
2. One Man Wrecking Machine
“I can’t do this. Shit, Bill, I can’t do this.”
“Charlie, you’ll be fine.” Bill wasn’t so sure, given the way Charlie was shaking like a leaf in front of the mirror, the armpits of his suit jacket already soaked through with sweat.
Charlie ran his hand through his hair. “I’m not ready for this.”
“I said the same thing, and look where I am now.” Bill grinned and held his arms open wide. “Fleur and I weren’t sure either. We both looked like hell standing at the top of that aisle. But we did it, and I’m so glad we did. I’ve never been happier.”
“You two were practically glowing, Bill. You didn’t look like this.”
“Sure-in front of you. You obviously didn’t see what I looked like the moment I stepped into the bathroom and away from you and dad. I couldn’t get my hands to stop shaking. You love Katie, Charlie, you can do this.”
Charlie frowned. He didn’t answer. Instead he adjusted his tie and tried to clear the thump in his throat.
Bill put a hand on Charlie’s shoulder. “You do love her, right?”
“I-I don’t know.” Charlie’s answer was barely a whisper. The two brothers watched each other through the mirror, and solemn understanding swept between them. Bill squeezed Charlie’s shoulder firmly before he left his brother to think. He hoped Charlie would do what was right, but he wouldn’t blame him if he didn’t.
Bill kept his head down through the ceremony as the bride stood alone at the top of the aisle. He knew even as Molly and Arthur raced around trying to find Charlie that he was long gone by now. He couldn’t bring himself to tell, to break Katie’s heart so that Charlie wouldn’t have to. He couldn’t strike out the little bit of love and hope that remained for her, even if he knew letting her suffer like this was wrong.
3. I'm Ready, I Am
He stared at his face in the mirror. His eyes didn’t move as he fumbled for a cigarette from his pocket. He’d cracked the window a while ago, so he didn’t need to do it now. He watched the smoke circle his face and obscure it momentarily from his view. He liked it better that way-it meant he couldn’t see himself.
Now that all the bandages were off, would she still love him? It was worse than it had been at first. The scars were no longer fresh and pink, they were muddled purple or brown or red, rough and jagged. The skin surrounding them crinkled and pinched his face in ways that made him look almost as old as his dad. His bottom lip was split, his eyebrow too.
And she? She was beautiful. She had perfect skin and perfect lips. Why would she want him? But then he remembered what she said:
“Bill, I will always love you. You are ze same man from before, and zese scars make you more handsome to me-my brave, brave fighter.”
His hand shook as he crushed out the cigarette stump in the sink. He could hear a soft knocking on the bathroom door. “Bill? Bill, are you well? Are you ready?”
He cleared his throat. “I’m ready.” He swept the old bandages into the trash bin, his cigarette stumps too. He took a deep breath.
When he opened the door, it was with his eyes closed, his back tensed for any number of rejections.
He didn’t expect soft hands on his face and sweet, sweet kisses.
4. She Moves in Her Own Way
He sat in his pajama bottoms at the counter, a coffee mug in his hands. Fleur didn’t notice him as he watched her move around the kitchen after Molly. He was only vaguely aware of the fact that he was supposed to be an active member of their conversation.
Every once in a while he heard his name, and he responded with a “Yeah”, “Mhm” or “I don’t know” depending on the intonation of the voice.
But he couldn’t help and be entranced by the way Fleur’s hand gently found her stomach when she wasn’t helping Molly cook, or the way whenever she tucked her golden hair out of her face it always fell back again, much to her annoyance. Bill chuckled.
“Bill! William! Are you even listening, dear?” Molly demanded.
Bill shook his head and his eyes flitted to his mother’s scowling face. He hid his smile behind his coffee mug. “Sorry, mum, I got distracted.”
He saw Fleur roll her eyes at him then, but the next time she passed by his stool she gently squeezed his knee. “Silly man.”
5. Handful of Names
“Hello Bill.”
“Hey, Percy.”
They stood opposite each other in the entranceway. Percy had just reached for his coat and Bill had just begun to shake his off his shoulders.
“I wanted to say congratulations on your marriage, brother,” Percy added awkwardly. He held his hand out to Bill. When Bill simply looked at it, Percy dropped his gaze. “From what I hear, she is a wonderful woman,” he tried.
“Percy.”
Percy glanced upward; his hand was still poised in the air between them. Bill gently lowered it. He felt Percy’s eyes searching out Bill’s new face. The kid never had been good at hiding his emotions, and Bill took in all the guilt and horror that lined Percy’s expression.
“Welcome back, Perce,” Bill said softly. He took a step forward and hugged Percy tightly. He clapped his hand warmly across his younger brother’s back. “Now quit acting like you did this to me. Even if you had been there, you couldn’t have stopped it.”
“Thank you,” Percy breathed as he stepped back. His shoulders softened, a very faint smile touched his face.
“Just glad to have you back, bro.”
Word Count: ~1,150 total (for 5 drabbles)
Rating: PG to PG-13.
Summary: 5 drabbles revolving around BIll Weasley. Some fluff, some angst.
Author's Notes: Done for my Drabble Request Challenge for chimbomba (Still open for requests!). Sorry Val, I just realized you asked for gen!fic. Erg, oops. :B I went back and added in Fleur's accent after I was done. [unbeta'd, minor editing]
1. Sleeping In
“Bill, you ‘ave to get up or you will be late for work!”
“I don’t want to,” Bill mumbled into his pillow. Fleur’s hand came down on his shoulder and he felt her lips brush against his ear a moment later.
“Eef you do not get up, zey will fire you.”
“That’s fine, I don’t mind.”
“Bill, you lazy man!” Fleur laughed lightly, her breathe a soft flutter against his neck.
He rolled over and smiled up at her. He brushed some hair out of her face and placed a soft kiss on her lips.
“How about-” he began, kissing her again, “-I call Gringott’s today-” his hands wrapped around her hips, “-And tell them I’m sick?” he muttered into her lips.
She laughed again and let her head fall onto his bare chest. “You called in sick last week, Bill. I do not think you ‘ave ever been zis sick in your life.”
“I have Dragon Pox.”
“Once every week?”
“Sure.”
She laughed, but when he rolled over her and kissed her again, she made no move to argue her point. She liked his sick days as much as he did.
2. One Man Wrecking Machine
“I can’t do this. Shit, Bill, I can’t do this.”
“Charlie, you’ll be fine.” Bill wasn’t so sure, given the way Charlie was shaking like a leaf in front of the mirror, the armpits of his suit jacket already soaked through with sweat.
Charlie ran his hand through his hair. “I’m not ready for this.”
“I said the same thing, and look where I am now.” Bill grinned and held his arms open wide. “Fleur and I weren’t sure either. We both looked like hell standing at the top of that aisle. But we did it, and I’m so glad we did. I’ve never been happier.”
“You two were practically glowing, Bill. You didn’t look like this.”
“Sure-in front of you. You obviously didn’t see what I looked like the moment I stepped into the bathroom and away from you and dad. I couldn’t get my hands to stop shaking. You love Katie, Charlie, you can do this.”
Charlie frowned. He didn’t answer. Instead he adjusted his tie and tried to clear the thump in his throat.
Bill put a hand on Charlie’s shoulder. “You do love her, right?”
“I-I don’t know.” Charlie’s answer was barely a whisper. The two brothers watched each other through the mirror, and solemn understanding swept between them. Bill squeezed Charlie’s shoulder firmly before he left his brother to think. He hoped Charlie would do what was right, but he wouldn’t blame him if he didn’t.
Bill kept his head down through the ceremony as the bride stood alone at the top of the aisle. He knew even as Molly and Arthur raced around trying to find Charlie that he was long gone by now. He couldn’t bring himself to tell, to break Katie’s heart so that Charlie wouldn’t have to. He couldn’t strike out the little bit of love and hope that remained for her, even if he knew letting her suffer like this was wrong.
3. I'm Ready, I Am
He stared at his face in the mirror. His eyes didn’t move as he fumbled for a cigarette from his pocket. He’d cracked the window a while ago, so he didn’t need to do it now. He watched the smoke circle his face and obscure it momentarily from his view. He liked it better that way-it meant he couldn’t see himself.
Now that all the bandages were off, would she still love him? It was worse than it had been at first. The scars were no longer fresh and pink, they were muddled purple or brown or red, rough and jagged. The skin surrounding them crinkled and pinched his face in ways that made him look almost as old as his dad. His bottom lip was split, his eyebrow too.
And she? She was beautiful. She had perfect skin and perfect lips. Why would she want him? But then he remembered what she said:
“Bill, I will always love you. You are ze same man from before, and zese scars make you more handsome to me-my brave, brave fighter.”
His hand shook as he crushed out the cigarette stump in the sink. He could hear a soft knocking on the bathroom door. “Bill? Bill, are you well? Are you ready?”
He cleared his throat. “I’m ready.” He swept the old bandages into the trash bin, his cigarette stumps too. He took a deep breath.
When he opened the door, it was with his eyes closed, his back tensed for any number of rejections.
He didn’t expect soft hands on his face and sweet, sweet kisses.
4. She Moves in Her Own Way
He sat in his pajama bottoms at the counter, a coffee mug in his hands. Fleur didn’t notice him as he watched her move around the kitchen after Molly. He was only vaguely aware of the fact that he was supposed to be an active member of their conversation.
Every once in a while he heard his name, and he responded with a “Yeah”, “Mhm” or “I don’t know” depending on the intonation of the voice.
But he couldn’t help and be entranced by the way Fleur’s hand gently found her stomach when she wasn’t helping Molly cook, or the way whenever she tucked her golden hair out of her face it always fell back again, much to her annoyance. Bill chuckled.
“Bill! William! Are you even listening, dear?” Molly demanded.
Bill shook his head and his eyes flitted to his mother’s scowling face. He hid his smile behind his coffee mug. “Sorry, mum, I got distracted.”
He saw Fleur roll her eyes at him then, but the next time she passed by his stool she gently squeezed his knee. “Silly man.”
5. Handful of Names
“Hello Bill.”
“Hey, Percy.”
They stood opposite each other in the entranceway. Percy had just reached for his coat and Bill had just begun to shake his off his shoulders.
“I wanted to say congratulations on your marriage, brother,” Percy added awkwardly. He held his hand out to Bill. When Bill simply looked at it, Percy dropped his gaze. “From what I hear, she is a wonderful woman,” he tried.
“Percy.”
Percy glanced upward; his hand was still poised in the air between them. Bill gently lowered it. He felt Percy’s eyes searching out Bill’s new face. The kid never had been good at hiding his emotions, and Bill took in all the guilt and horror that lined Percy’s expression.
“Welcome back, Perce,” Bill said softly. He took a step forward and hugged Percy tightly. He clapped his hand warmly across his younger brother’s back. “Now quit acting like you did this to me. Even if you had been there, you couldn’t have stopped it.”
“Thank you,” Percy breathed as he stepped back. His shoulders softened, a very faint smile touched his face.
“Just glad to have you back, bro.”