Fleur Delacour, Bill Weasley, Letters, Summer 1995
Name: Fleur Delacour, Bill Weasley
Format: Letters (Part I)
Date: Late June, early July of 1995
Relevance: Intercepted owls showing communication between Fleur Delacour and a close associate and supporter of Harry Potter (one William Weasley). With the danger of incorrect information being passed on in the wake of the situation at the Triwizard Tournament, and You-Know-Who's alleged return, all correspondence to and from said subject (Miss Delacour) was monitored during her brief stay in Marseille during the summer of 1995.
Ma chere Fleur,
I know it's only been days since you left but they have been considerably long days without your presence. I finished my work at Hogwarts and am going to be taking a job at the bank in London so I am close to home. I will probably still accept private clients for curse-breaking on my time off.
I miss you. I keep thinking about our dinner together- about the way your lips felt on mine when I kissed you the first time. And yes, about that last day and the tree. You are beautiful. I hope you'll believe me when I say that holding you just felt right. Bloody turn-on too, which was more than obvious I know, but also right. Like I could carry you, hold you in my arms, have your legs around my waist forever.
I know you are worried this is too fast. That there is too much happening, that it's all too out of control. You're right, of course. But I could see in your eyes, in the way you touched me, kissed me, that you knew it was good too. I swear I'll never hurt you.
Shit, I think I'm under some sort of spell after meeting you. I can't stop thinking about you, wank
I'm just a wizard. A handsome, dashing wizard, but an honest one, if slightly immodest. Remind me to tell you about Wales sometime. My grandparents, Mum's parents, are Welsh. Granny Annie and Taid, we called them. But modesty was never a high priority. I blame my uncles really. But I'm rambling, I'm certain of it.
Write back to me, ma chere. My owl will wait for a reply, even if you need a few days. She's quite an accomplished hunter so you won't need to feed her. Her name is Euphrates. And she refuses to answer to any shortened form of it. I've tried.
Adoringly,
Bill
Dear William,
Thank you very much for your letter. Maman was most surprised to see an owl for me so soon after I arrived home. as was I, but I think I was a little surprised as well, but this is not to say that I was not hoping looking forward to a letter from you. You did tell me that you would write to me, and so you have. I can say, for the moment, that you are a man of your word.
You make me blush and you are wicked for doing so. I was in the parlour when I first began to read your letter and I could not help myself but blush when I read your second paragraph. I went promptly to my room before Gabrielle or Papa could ask me if I was ill. It is, perhaps, wicked of me to say so as well, but I did so much enjoy out time together. More than I should, I would say. I have been thinking about you too and remembering you and it all makes me feel quite weak and dizzy. Perhaps this is an illness of sorts? To flush and faint and lie about in daydreams? To think only of kisses and the touch of your hands. There. My cheeks are very red again and so I must set aside my quill for a moment to have a cup of water and settle my nerves. You make me say the most indecent things!
You are most indecent. I find that I do not altogether mind so much somehow when it is you. I will surely regret having said this at all, much less having put something like this in a letter when you can pull it from your pocket and point to the very words to infuriate me. I have every expectation that you shall do this, but I refuse to scratch them out! You see, I am even braver than you have thought of me!
I do hope you don't think it improper for me to write back to you so quickly. I told myself a time or two that I would wait to send it, but I find I cannot! I am eager for your next reply in a way that makes me feel I should be ashamed of myself, and yet, I am not. You do find me awfully shocking, don't you? You may tell me the entire truth and I shan't be cross, or not as much as I might be.
Please, do write back, William. Even though this is such a silly letter that says nothing at all. Write to me of Wales and the Bank. Write to me of your brothers and where you are living, but most of all simply write to me.
L
Yours most fondly,
Fleur
P.S. Your owl is very pretty and awfully clever. Gabrielle discovered her fondness for little bits of ham, yesterday, after breakfast.
Fleur,
I am a man of my word. I am also a man who responds eagerly to please his a beautiful woman. Perhaps you might go so far as to call me obedient to her commands. Willing to please her in whatever way she wants.
I would apologise for making you blush but it would be a lie and you know it would be. It wasn't my intent to make you blush, though it is very lovely when you do.
I think I read that 2nd paragraph of yours about a dozen times before I could move on. If that is an illness then, as they say, let us be so afflicted and never cured for I have the same symptoms, ma chere.
They are not precisely indecent- not when they are in private letters. And I shall keep that letter to use exactly as you expected I would. But I must take the liberty of interpretting that scenario to mean that you wish to seem me again- that you know we will see each other again? Because we will. I shall see if the bank has work for me in Marsailles. Or I shall fly there if I must.
The entire truth is that I think you are braver than you think you are. And that you do not shock me. You please me. You make me smile when you say such things. When you are eager as I am. When you will say that you are. God but I want.
Am I still to write to you of the other things? I shall share a flat with an older bloke named Jack who works at Gringotts too. Charlie and I used to run naked through Wales, so my grandmother had to bribe us with jam to keep our pants on. It worked sometimes. Charlie's the dragon keeper in Romania- you met him, or at least saw him- and he means the world to me and having him so far apart is like missing my arm, my lungs- Having you so far apart is li Percy's working for the Ministry now. Cauldron bottoms and paperwork- bit of a git but he's family. The twins are trouble- always have been- but I wouldn't trade them for anything. Ron's growing up quicker than I could have thought- need to teach him about girls though. And Ginny- not my brother- but I love that little Runt. Think she's brighter than the lot of us sometimes.
Your obedient servant (and ginger wizard),
Bill
PS: Tell Gabrielle hello for me.
William,
I promptly took your letter to my room as soon as Euphrates brought it to me. It was perhaps too quickly as Papa raised his eyebrows at me when I came down after reading it and said that I had more colour than he'd seen since I came home. I am quite sure he was teasing me. I cannot say if he would tease me more or less if he met you. I think he would lock me in my room and refuse to let me out!
As for the beginning of your letter, I could say that you show your devotion, but this would ignore the touch of wickedness which I know runs under many of your words. You say things that sound sweet, but have other ideas hidden beneath them. I think I should scold you for it. But first I shall tell you some secrets.
I too am satisfied to remain ill if it continues to feel this way. Not only this, but you are correct in thinking that I would wish to see you again. (Can you believe? - how bold I am in with a quill in my hand!) I still cannot stop thinking about you and our time together. I do wish it could have been longer. What I couldn't say is when we might meet again. There is much happening here and Papa and Maman are so relieved to have me home and safe that I wonder if they will ever let me go anywhere soon. Would you truly come to Marsei
I will tell you one more secret. (Can it be a secret if I tell you these things? Only perhaps if you keep it as well it can be a secret between we two.) And here I must write almost with my eyes closed and then go on, covering my next line with a spare bit of parchment - my lips are still soft from your kisses. I touch them as I read your letters and I feel they change their shape to match yours as they did when you kissed me last.
There! I'll not read the beginning of this letter again so that I will nothing will be scratched out.
You needn't have written about all of my questions at once. I meant for you to only answer what you could each time you wrote to me, but I enjoyed your answer. I think it was a bit quick with many details, but maybe you would speak more slowly than you write it?
Gabrielle was very pleased with your greeting. She thinks you very handsome and I did not disagree with her. She wants to know much about you and I did tell her some things, but others I kept to myself as if a quiet present for me and only me. I am a silly girl for doing this, but a silly girl with reasons, no?
I hope that you and your family are well and that Jack does not tease you about your blushes when you read my letters.
With much silliness and warm thoughts, (I will save your scolding for later as I have no more room to do it properly!)
Fleur
P.S. I must say this now, or not at all. It is absurd that I have only just met you, but I can think of little else. You follow me through my day and I can only remember again and again the tremble you made in me and the press of your kisses. Bill, please come to me in Marseilles.
Please excuse the mess of ink. The bottle was overturned upon my desk and I only returned after much of it was dry. I would have torn off the end of the parchment, only then I would not have had the space to sign because of how the ink had run. Do forgive it. Fond wishes. ~F.
Format: Letters (Part I)
Date: Late June, early July of 1995
Relevance: Intercepted owls showing communication between Fleur Delacour and a close associate and supporter of Harry Potter (one William Weasley). With the danger of incorrect information being passed on in the wake of the situation at the Triwizard Tournament, and You-Know-Who's alleged return, all correspondence to and from said subject (Miss Delacour) was monitored during her brief stay in Marseille during the summer of 1995.
Ma chere Fleur,
I know it's only been days since you left but they have been considerably long days without your presence. I finished my work at Hogwarts and am going to be taking a job at the bank in London so I am close to home. I will probably still accept private clients for curse-breaking on my time off.
I miss you. I keep thinking about our dinner together- about the way your lips felt on mine when I kissed you the first time. And yes, about that last day and the tree. You are beautiful. I hope you'll believe me when I say that holding you just felt right. Bloody turn-on too, which was more than obvious I know, but also right. Like I could carry you, hold you in my arms, have your legs around my waist forever.
I know you are worried this is too fast. That there is too much happening, that it's all too out of control. You're right, of course. But I could see in your eyes, in the way you touched me, kissed me, that you knew it was good too. I swear I'll never hurt you.
Shit, I think I'm under some sort of spell after meeting you. I can't stop thinking about you, wank
I'm just a wizard. A handsome, dashing wizard, but an honest one, if slightly immodest. Remind me to tell you about Wales sometime. My grandparents, Mum's parents, are Welsh. Granny Annie and Taid, we called them. But modesty was never a high priority. I blame my uncles really. But I'm rambling, I'm certain of it.
Write back to me, ma chere. My owl will wait for a reply, even if you need a few days. She's quite an accomplished hunter so you won't need to feed her. Her name is Euphrates. And she refuses to answer to any shortened form of it. I've tried.
Adoringly,
Bill
Dear William,
Thank you very much for your letter. Maman was most surprised to see an owl for me so soon after I arrived home. as was I, but I think I was a little surprised as well, but this is not to say that I was not hoping looking forward to a letter from you. You did tell me that you would write to me, and so you have. I can say, for the moment, that you are a man of your word.
You make me blush and you are wicked for doing so. I was in the parlour when I first began to read your letter and I could not help myself but blush when I read your second paragraph. I went promptly to my room before Gabrielle or Papa could ask me if I was ill. It is, perhaps, wicked of me to say so as well, but I did so much enjoy out time together. More than I should, I would say. I have been thinking about you too and remembering you and it all makes me feel quite weak and dizzy. Perhaps this is an illness of sorts? To flush and faint and lie about in daydreams? To think only of kisses and the touch of your hands. There. My cheeks are very red again and so I must set aside my quill for a moment to have a cup of water and settle my nerves. You make me say the most indecent things!
You are most indecent. I find that I do not altogether mind so much somehow when it is you. I will surely regret having said this at all, much less having put something like this in a letter when you can pull it from your pocket and point to the very words to infuriate me. I have every expectation that you shall do this, but I refuse to scratch them out! You see, I am even braver than you have thought of me!
I do hope you don't think it improper for me to write back to you so quickly. I told myself a time or two that I would wait to send it, but I find I cannot! I am eager for your next reply in a way that makes me feel I should be ashamed of myself, and yet, I am not. You do find me awfully shocking, don't you? You may tell me the entire truth and I shan't be cross, or not as much as I might be.
Please, do write back, William. Even though this is such a silly letter that says nothing at all. Write to me of Wales and the Bank. Write to me of your brothers and where you are living, but most of all simply write to me.
L
Yours most fondly,
Fleur
P.S. Your owl is very pretty and awfully clever. Gabrielle discovered her fondness for little bits of ham, yesterday, after breakfast.
Fleur,
I am a man of my word. I am also a man who responds eagerly to please his a beautiful woman. Perhaps you might go so far as to call me obedient to her commands. Willing to please her in whatever way she wants.
I would apologise for making you blush but it would be a lie and you know it would be. It wasn't my intent to make you blush, though it is very lovely when you do.
I think I read that 2nd paragraph of yours about a dozen times before I could move on. If that is an illness then, as they say, let us be so afflicted and never cured for I have the same symptoms, ma chere.
They are not precisely indecent- not when they are in private letters. And I shall keep that letter to use exactly as you expected I would. But I must take the liberty of interpretting that scenario to mean that you wish to seem me again- that you know we will see each other again? Because we will. I shall see if the bank has work for me in Marsailles. Or I shall fly there if I must.
The entire truth is that I think you are braver than you think you are. And that you do not shock me. You please me. You make me smile when you say such things. When you are eager as I am. When you will say that you are. God but I want.
Am I still to write to you of the other things? I shall share a flat with an older bloke named Jack who works at Gringotts too. Charlie and I used to run naked through Wales, so my grandmother had to bribe us with jam to keep our pants on. It worked sometimes. Charlie's the dragon keeper in Romania- you met him, or at least saw him- and he means the world to me and having him so far apart is like missing my arm, my lungs- Having you so far apart is li Percy's working for the Ministry now. Cauldron bottoms and paperwork- bit of a git but he's family. The twins are trouble- always have been- but I wouldn't trade them for anything. Ron's growing up quicker than I could have thought- need to teach him about girls though. And Ginny- not my brother- but I love that little Runt. Think she's brighter than the lot of us sometimes.
Your obedient servant (and ginger wizard),
Bill
PS: Tell Gabrielle hello for me.
William,
I promptly took your letter to my room as soon as Euphrates brought it to me. It was perhaps too quickly as Papa raised his eyebrows at me when I came down after reading it and said that I had more colour than he'd seen since I came home. I am quite sure he was teasing me. I cannot say if he would tease me more or less if he met you. I think he would lock me in my room and refuse to let me out!
As for the beginning of your letter, I could say that you show your devotion, but this would ignore the touch of wickedness which I know runs under many of your words. You say things that sound sweet, but have other ideas hidden beneath them. I think I should scold you for it. But first I shall tell you some secrets.
I too am satisfied to remain ill if it continues to feel this way. Not only this, but you are correct in thinking that I would wish to see you again. (Can you believe? - how bold I am in with a quill in my hand!) I still cannot stop thinking about you and our time together. I do wish it could have been longer. What I couldn't say is when we might meet again. There is much happening here and Papa and Maman are so relieved to have me home and safe that I wonder if they will ever let me go anywhere soon. Would you truly come to Marsei
I will tell you one more secret. (Can it be a secret if I tell you these things? Only perhaps if you keep it as well it can be a secret between we two.) And here I must write almost with my eyes closed and then go on, covering my next line with a spare bit of parchment - my lips are still soft from your kisses. I touch them as I read your letters and I feel they change their shape to match yours as they did when you kissed me last.
There! I'll not read the beginning of this letter again so that I will nothing will be scratched out.
You needn't have written about all of my questions at once. I meant for you to only answer what you could each time you wrote to me, but I enjoyed your answer. I think it was a bit quick with many details, but maybe you would speak more slowly than you write it?
Gabrielle was very pleased with your greeting. She thinks you very handsome and I did not disagree with her. She wants to know much about you and I did tell her some things, but others I kept to myself as if a quiet present for me and only me. I am a silly girl for doing this, but a silly girl with reasons, no?
I hope that you and your family are well and that Jack does not tease you about your blushes when you read my letters.
With much silliness and warm thoughts, (I will save your scolding for later as I have no more room to do it properly!)
Fleur
P.S. I must say this now, or not at all. It is absurd that I have only just met you, but I can think of little else. You follow me through my day and I can only remember again and again the tremble you made in me and the press of your kisses. Bill, please come to me in Marseilles.
Please excuse the mess of ink. The bottle was overturned upon my desk and I only returned after much of it was dry. I would have torn off the end of the parchment, only then I would not have had the space to sign because of how the ink had run. Do forgive it. Fond wishes. ~F.