Fic: Fleur and Bill sitting in a tree....
Title: Fleur and Bill sitting in a tree....
Summary: This is the next part to my Bill/Fleur piece
Characters/Pairings: Fleur/Bill
Genre: Romance, General
Beta: Nope
Rating/Warnings: R to be certain, mention of sex but no description
Medium: Fanfiction
Word Count: 2778
Can the Order post to Tumblr?: yes
If yes, your Tumblr username: tiramisu-misu
Week became months, and soon it was the end of the year. Fleur had asked to be promoted to a full-time position but she had been told it was not possible. This meant that every afternoon, she would leave Bill at work, and though she always found something to do, she sort of hated the fact that they couldn’t work all day long together.
Things were going well, very well, and Fleur felt very much in love with the red haired man. She hadn’t said it, wanting him to say it first, while also dreading for him to say it. It was the Veela plague, as Bonne Maman would say. Sometimes you just didn’t know if the three words were meant or if it was the Veela charm talking. Fleur supposed the longer he went without saying it had to make it so that when he would say it, she would know that he meant it.
Furthermore, they hadn’t yet consumed their relationship, and she wondered what it meant.
She could see that he had more things than just her going on, though she was his only romantic entanglement. They never spoke about it, but she could see that he was preparing for what she could only guess to be battle. She wanted him to trust her, and to involve her in that fight, because she was no fool and she knew what he was preparing against, but she couldn’t force him. She was not stupid, she knew he had to be part of a group, and bringing her in would have to be a group’s decision. The problem was that Bill hadn’t introduced her to people who belonged to the group, or she hadn’t sensed at all that they were part of this side of Bill’s life.
It was frustrating, but she didn’t want to force things to happen, on any front. She knew things had to happen on their own otherwise they wouldn’t mean as much.
One day, she had come home to find Bill waiting for her on her doorstep, and he had had that look in her eyes, it had been so weird. He had the keys, and she had wondered why he hadn’t let himself in. When they had been inside, and had gotten rid of their coat, he had proceeded to place protection spells all over her place, on every issue, every way in or out, every window. He hadn’t said why, and she had wanted to ask, but something had held her back. He had looked some solemn, so focused on the task at hand, she had kept her mouth shut and she had let him do, even though she was a pretty good spell caster too. She knew that he knew it, yet he had found it necessary to redo her spells and do some more.
She had discussed it with her mother when Bill had left that night, and Maman had made her feel better.
“Men,” she had said, rolling her eyes. “It makes them feel better to think they’re protecting us, that they’re taking care of us, and sometimes it feels like they’re thinking we’re not capable of doing ourselves.”
“I chose to see it as a romantic gesture,’ Fleur had said in the floo chimney. “He knows I’m good, it must have something to do with something else, something he hasn’t told me yet, and I figured I would let him do what he needed to do.”
“If you know your man didn’t think you were not up to the task, but that he did it anyway, then you chose the wise course of action. Men would like to believe they’re this different and surprising species, but when in doubt, or feeling scared, they go back to some patterns, such as making sure the people they love are safe.”
Fleur had blushed, hoping her mother was right about Bill loving her, then they had said their goodbyes.
***
They had gotten a routine going on, when he would come over for dinner quite often, but he would always leave before things could evolve toward a sensual territory. Oh, they did make out, and just a tad more, but they were not intimate. Some nights, in comparison, he would leave almost as soon as dinner was over, and she knew that he was going somewhere, and that it had to do with that side of her life he was carefully keeping away from her. She wondered if it pained him, to cut her off. It surely pained her, but she had chosen to believe that things were the way they were until they could be otherwise.
One evening, while they were in the middle of a make out session that would have won them some medals if it had been a sport, she had tried to entice him to her bedroom. She hadn’t been too forward, she hadn’t put on the Veela charm, she had just offered him to move what they were doing to the bedroom.
He had pushed her away gently, and had said immediately:
“You have no idea how much I want to.”
“Try me.”
“But we can’t.”
“Why?”
“There are things… Things you need to know, otherwise it would cheapen any steps we’d take further…”
She had been glad her English had been getting better and better, because Bill never changed his language registry to something less complicated, he always made her work for it, in a way, and she liked it. She was no babe who needed to be cooed at. She needed to learn.
“Bill, “she said, putting her hands on his arms, and smiling at him, “you don’t… I mean, I’m not a virgin if it worries you.”
He had looked heartbroken upon hearing her words, and she had felt defensive.
“I’m sure you’re not either!”
“No, I’m not,” he agreed. “I just… It’s stupid, and so macho, but I would have liked it if you had been one….”
“If it makes you feel better, there were only two boys, and I use the word “boy” on purpose. The first one was almost two years ago, and it went as badly as any first times usually go. The second one… It happened when I was back at Beauxbatons after the Triwizard tournament. I don’t have many memories of it,” she said, trying to find the words that would depict what she had done, and why she had done it, in a way that would make him understand.
He seemed to have understand right away that she was not about to tell him about her sexual prowess, that it was to be understood on a different level.
“Cedric was dead,” she said, amazed that she was not in tears, though she felt like her heart would explode. “Cedric was dead, and I was back in what was a normal setting, a safe place, and I tried to go back to being a girl. I slept with a guy from my year, and it was… It didn’t make me feel back to normal, it only made it more obvious that I would not go back to being Fleur from before. We never had a second go or anything, I was not interested. The reason I am saying this, is not to hurt you or flaunt my sex life, I just want you to know… I do not have the what’s the word, maidenhood? I have lost my virginity, but I didn’t find an extraordinary new world when it happened. I stand by the choices I made, I hope you will understand them.”
It was painful, to tell him some truths she only kept to herself, and hope he would understand. If he didn’t, it would mean he didn’t deserve her, but she wanted him to be worthy of her.
“I get it, or I think I do,” he said, rubbing her hand. “Thank you for sharing this with me.”
She raised her face to him, and he kissed her. She felt warmth spread in her body, not arousal, but the warmth she supposed one felt, when feeling their beloved’s affection. She was so in love with him, it was not funny. He could crush her, but the more time she spent with him, the more she realized, she could crush him too. Such power. His heart was in good hands, whether he knew it or not.
***
When Christmas time came, he still hadn’t introduced her to her family, and that fact coupled with the fact that they still hadn’t made love made her feel extremely weary, and hurt too. She told him that she would go back to France for two weeks, and he didn’t say anything about his plans, or about wanting to join her. It hurt.
Christmas was a time you spent with those you love, right? Then why weren’t they finding a way to be together?
This question plagued her mind as she went back to visit her family.
Maman listened to her doubts and her fears, and didn’t tell her that it was going to be okay, because they both knew empty promises were no comfort.
They decorated the tree in advance, as they always did, and they hadn’t told Gabrielle Fleur would be back for the holidays, so they were counting the days till they would go meet her younger sister at the train station.
Fleur had tried to write to Madame Maxime, but the owls had always come back without having delivered her letters. On the other hand, she had started writing to Viktor Krum, on a whim, and when he had replied back, she had been pleasantly surprised. He understood more that he let on, and she realized that he would pick up in her letters on things she hadn’t dare say. She realized she hadn’t paid him enough attention the year before, but they had been through the same things, and while they didn’t react to things the same way, their common experience paved the way for their friendship to become more than just being acquaintances almost right away.
The day before she would go pick Gabrielle up from the station, as Fleur was dining with her parents, her father telling a delightful story about her mother as he always did (Papa so worshipped Maman, Fleur longed for that kind of love), when something unexpected happened. They heard the sound of an international floo call, and Bill’s head appeared in the chimney.
Maman took Papa by the hand and led him away without a word, while Fleur got on her knees next to the chimney. He looked so tired, and worried, and scared….
“Bill,” she said.
“I needed to know you were okay.” He said, as if he felt the need to apologize to her for appearing.
“Shush, love,” she told him, caressing his face the best she could, through the flames who had turned cold.
They stayed this way for a long time, taking comfort in one another, though she didn’t know what had prompted him, what had distressed him so much that he had needed to see her. They finally broke apart, and he told her that when they would meet in person again, he would let her in on some things going on. She couldn’t wait.
The next day, she went and welcomed her sister who was delighted by the surprise. She thought of Bill, of course, especially after her mother had dropped the story of Bill’s appearance at dinner, much to Gabrielle’s enchantment.
When Fleur left, a week later, she was ready, to hear it, to learn what was going on, to participate if she could. More than anything, she was ready to see Bill, and tell him in person that she loved him. The word had slipped out, when she had come to meet him at the chimney, and she wanted to say it, for real, knowing she meant it, and that he would if he said it back.
He was waiting for her when she portkeyed back to London, and he kissed her for the longest and most delicious time, until the attendant had to shoo them away. Hand in hand, they went back to her place.
He told her about the Order of the Phoenix, and more importantly, he told her about his father’s close call with death. She tried to take it all in, knowing he needed her now. She could see it in his eyes, and she wanted to be there.
She listened to his missions, where he went when he wasn’t with her. She discovered this side of his life she hadn’t known but had felt hint of, and many things had started making sense. He asked her to forgive him for having kept her in the dark, and she finally said those words which had been burning the tip of her tongue. He said “I love you” back and it was like nothing she had ever felt before.
They slept like the dead that night, having fallen asleep on her couch. When they woke up, they had had breakfast, and the air had seemed different. The fact that they hadn’t been intimate hadn’t seemed like such a big deal anymore, for all he had told her had showed her how much he trusted her.
And so their routine went on.
One night, he stayed over, and they made out, then made love, a memory she would always cherish.
In February, he asked her to come with him as he went back to visit some friends in Egypt, and she said yes.
Maman hadn’t raised an eyebrow when Fleur had mentioned they would be sharing a bedroom, but Fleur had felt like a naughty young girl. She had remembered something Bonne Maman had once said “why do every generation believe they came up with sex? We did it before you did,” and Fleur supposed Maman’s lack of reaction was the proof of how right Bonne Maman had been.
Fleur was not allowed in the Order, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to be part of it right now, not out of cowardice, but because she could only depict too clearly in her head the danger they were all in, and she knew Bill wasn’t ready to have one more loved on in danger.
So they went to Egypt, and Bill started introducing her to some of his friends. He showed her the places he loved the most. He showed his world, and she fell even more deeply in love with him, for he was so generous when sharing, she felt like she barely deserved the trust he placed in her.
“But you do, Fleur,” he had told her when she had said that concern out loud. “I love you”.
“I love you too,” she answered, then let him lead her to another one of his favorite spots.
She didn’t know what would be coming next, she didn’t know if she should be thinking about the future or taking it each at a time. She enjoyed thoroughly sleeping in the same bed as he for a whole week, as when in London, when he was not sleeping with her, he was running an errand for the Order. So many nights she had laid awake, wondering if she would get warned if something happened to her man. It was torture, but she supposed you had to take the good with the bad.
That week in Egypt was perfection.
“One day,” he told her, “I’m gonna marry you.”
“Funny,” she replied with wit, though feeling so moved, “I don’t recall saying yes.”
He had jumped on her and tickled her mercilessly.
Overall, it had been the perfect trip. Coming back to London had felt so difficult, but the more they changed, became more intimate, became more fusional, the more she couldn’t wait for what would come next. She had her fears and he had his. She wanted to meet his family but knew that it would mean being introduced to more members of the Order of the Phoenix, and Bill still wasn’t ready. He would tell her about his siblings, she’d tell him about Gabrielle. He mentioned them going back to France soon, so that he could meet her family.
The future, in many ways, had never looked grimmer, with what was going at Hogwarts, and the Death Eaters on the loose. Only a blind man wouldn’t see the war coming, and she was not blind.
She was also deliriously happy. Being in love did that to you, and a French woman in love was unstoppable. She would look after her man, no matter what came next.
Ash/Slytherin/ 93 points (2778/30)
Summary: This is the next part to my Bill/Fleur piece
Characters/Pairings: Fleur/Bill
Genre: Romance, General
Beta: Nope
Rating/Warnings: R to be certain, mention of sex but no description
Medium: Fanfiction
Word Count: 2778
Can the Order post to Tumblr?: yes
If yes, your Tumblr username: tiramisu-misu
Week became months, and soon it was the end of the year. Fleur had asked to be promoted to a full-time position but she had been told it was not possible. This meant that every afternoon, she would leave Bill at work, and though she always found something to do, she sort of hated the fact that they couldn’t work all day long together.
Things were going well, very well, and Fleur felt very much in love with the red haired man. She hadn’t said it, wanting him to say it first, while also dreading for him to say it. It was the Veela plague, as Bonne Maman would say. Sometimes you just didn’t know if the three words were meant or if it was the Veela charm talking. Fleur supposed the longer he went without saying it had to make it so that when he would say it, she would know that he meant it.
Furthermore, they hadn’t yet consumed their relationship, and she wondered what it meant.
She could see that he had more things than just her going on, though she was his only romantic entanglement. They never spoke about it, but she could see that he was preparing for what she could only guess to be battle. She wanted him to trust her, and to involve her in that fight, because she was no fool and she knew what he was preparing against, but she couldn’t force him. She was not stupid, she knew he had to be part of a group, and bringing her in would have to be a group’s decision. The problem was that Bill hadn’t introduced her to people who belonged to the group, or she hadn’t sensed at all that they were part of this side of Bill’s life.
It was frustrating, but she didn’t want to force things to happen, on any front. She knew things had to happen on their own otherwise they wouldn’t mean as much.
One day, she had come home to find Bill waiting for her on her doorstep, and he had had that look in her eyes, it had been so weird. He had the keys, and she had wondered why he hadn’t let himself in. When they had been inside, and had gotten rid of their coat, he had proceeded to place protection spells all over her place, on every issue, every way in or out, every window. He hadn’t said why, and she had wanted to ask, but something had held her back. He had looked some solemn, so focused on the task at hand, she had kept her mouth shut and she had let him do, even though she was a pretty good spell caster too. She knew that he knew it, yet he had found it necessary to redo her spells and do some more.
She had discussed it with her mother when Bill had left that night, and Maman had made her feel better.
“Men,” she had said, rolling her eyes. “It makes them feel better to think they’re protecting us, that they’re taking care of us, and sometimes it feels like they’re thinking we’re not capable of doing ourselves.”
“I chose to see it as a romantic gesture,’ Fleur had said in the floo chimney. “He knows I’m good, it must have something to do with something else, something he hasn’t told me yet, and I figured I would let him do what he needed to do.”
“If you know your man didn’t think you were not up to the task, but that he did it anyway, then you chose the wise course of action. Men would like to believe they’re this different and surprising species, but when in doubt, or feeling scared, they go back to some patterns, such as making sure the people they love are safe.”
Fleur had blushed, hoping her mother was right about Bill loving her, then they had said their goodbyes.
***
They had gotten a routine going on, when he would come over for dinner quite often, but he would always leave before things could evolve toward a sensual territory. Oh, they did make out, and just a tad more, but they were not intimate. Some nights, in comparison, he would leave almost as soon as dinner was over, and she knew that he was going somewhere, and that it had to do with that side of her life he was carefully keeping away from her. She wondered if it pained him, to cut her off. It surely pained her, but she had chosen to believe that things were the way they were until they could be otherwise.
One evening, while they were in the middle of a make out session that would have won them some medals if it had been a sport, she had tried to entice him to her bedroom. She hadn’t been too forward, she hadn’t put on the Veela charm, she had just offered him to move what they were doing to the bedroom.
He had pushed her away gently, and had said immediately:
“You have no idea how much I want to.”
“Try me.”
“But we can’t.”
“Why?”
“There are things… Things you need to know, otherwise it would cheapen any steps we’d take further…”
She had been glad her English had been getting better and better, because Bill never changed his language registry to something less complicated, he always made her work for it, in a way, and she liked it. She was no babe who needed to be cooed at. She needed to learn.
“Bill, “she said, putting her hands on his arms, and smiling at him, “you don’t… I mean, I’m not a virgin if it worries you.”
He had looked heartbroken upon hearing her words, and she had felt defensive.
“I’m sure you’re not either!”
“No, I’m not,” he agreed. “I just… It’s stupid, and so macho, but I would have liked it if you had been one….”
“If it makes you feel better, there were only two boys, and I use the word “boy” on purpose. The first one was almost two years ago, and it went as badly as any first times usually go. The second one… It happened when I was back at Beauxbatons after the Triwizard tournament. I don’t have many memories of it,” she said, trying to find the words that would depict what she had done, and why she had done it, in a way that would make him understand.
He seemed to have understand right away that she was not about to tell him about her sexual prowess, that it was to be understood on a different level.
“Cedric was dead,” she said, amazed that she was not in tears, though she felt like her heart would explode. “Cedric was dead, and I was back in what was a normal setting, a safe place, and I tried to go back to being a girl. I slept with a guy from my year, and it was… It didn’t make me feel back to normal, it only made it more obvious that I would not go back to being Fleur from before. We never had a second go or anything, I was not interested. The reason I am saying this, is not to hurt you or flaunt my sex life, I just want you to know… I do not have the what’s the word, maidenhood? I have lost my virginity, but I didn’t find an extraordinary new world when it happened. I stand by the choices I made, I hope you will understand them.”
It was painful, to tell him some truths she only kept to herself, and hope he would understand. If he didn’t, it would mean he didn’t deserve her, but she wanted him to be worthy of her.
“I get it, or I think I do,” he said, rubbing her hand. “Thank you for sharing this with me.”
She raised her face to him, and he kissed her. She felt warmth spread in her body, not arousal, but the warmth she supposed one felt, when feeling their beloved’s affection. She was so in love with him, it was not funny. He could crush her, but the more time she spent with him, the more she realized, she could crush him too. Such power. His heart was in good hands, whether he knew it or not.
***
When Christmas time came, he still hadn’t introduced her to her family, and that fact coupled with the fact that they still hadn’t made love made her feel extremely weary, and hurt too. She told him that she would go back to France for two weeks, and he didn’t say anything about his plans, or about wanting to join her. It hurt.
Christmas was a time you spent with those you love, right? Then why weren’t they finding a way to be together?
This question plagued her mind as she went back to visit her family.
Maman listened to her doubts and her fears, and didn’t tell her that it was going to be okay, because they both knew empty promises were no comfort.
They decorated the tree in advance, as they always did, and they hadn’t told Gabrielle Fleur would be back for the holidays, so they were counting the days till they would go meet her younger sister at the train station.
Fleur had tried to write to Madame Maxime, but the owls had always come back without having delivered her letters. On the other hand, she had started writing to Viktor Krum, on a whim, and when he had replied back, she had been pleasantly surprised. He understood more that he let on, and she realized that he would pick up in her letters on things she hadn’t dare say. She realized she hadn’t paid him enough attention the year before, but they had been through the same things, and while they didn’t react to things the same way, their common experience paved the way for their friendship to become more than just being acquaintances almost right away.
The day before she would go pick Gabrielle up from the station, as Fleur was dining with her parents, her father telling a delightful story about her mother as he always did (Papa so worshipped Maman, Fleur longed for that kind of love), when something unexpected happened. They heard the sound of an international floo call, and Bill’s head appeared in the chimney.
Maman took Papa by the hand and led him away without a word, while Fleur got on her knees next to the chimney. He looked so tired, and worried, and scared….
“Bill,” she said.
“I needed to know you were okay.” He said, as if he felt the need to apologize to her for appearing.
“Shush, love,” she told him, caressing his face the best she could, through the flames who had turned cold.
They stayed this way for a long time, taking comfort in one another, though she didn’t know what had prompted him, what had distressed him so much that he had needed to see her. They finally broke apart, and he told her that when they would meet in person again, he would let her in on some things going on. She couldn’t wait.
The next day, she went and welcomed her sister who was delighted by the surprise. She thought of Bill, of course, especially after her mother had dropped the story of Bill’s appearance at dinner, much to Gabrielle’s enchantment.
When Fleur left, a week later, she was ready, to hear it, to learn what was going on, to participate if she could. More than anything, she was ready to see Bill, and tell him in person that she loved him. The word had slipped out, when she had come to meet him at the chimney, and she wanted to say it, for real, knowing she meant it, and that he would if he said it back.
He was waiting for her when she portkeyed back to London, and he kissed her for the longest and most delicious time, until the attendant had to shoo them away. Hand in hand, they went back to her place.
He told her about the Order of the Phoenix, and more importantly, he told her about his father’s close call with death. She tried to take it all in, knowing he needed her now. She could see it in his eyes, and she wanted to be there.
She listened to his missions, where he went when he wasn’t with her. She discovered this side of his life she hadn’t known but had felt hint of, and many things had started making sense. He asked her to forgive him for having kept her in the dark, and she finally said those words which had been burning the tip of her tongue. He said “I love you” back and it was like nothing she had ever felt before.
They slept like the dead that night, having fallen asleep on her couch. When they woke up, they had had breakfast, and the air had seemed different. The fact that they hadn’t been intimate hadn’t seemed like such a big deal anymore, for all he had told her had showed her how much he trusted her.
And so their routine went on.
One night, he stayed over, and they made out, then made love, a memory she would always cherish.
In February, he asked her to come with him as he went back to visit some friends in Egypt, and she said yes.
Maman hadn’t raised an eyebrow when Fleur had mentioned they would be sharing a bedroom, but Fleur had felt like a naughty young girl. She had remembered something Bonne Maman had once said “why do every generation believe they came up with sex? We did it before you did,” and Fleur supposed Maman’s lack of reaction was the proof of how right Bonne Maman had been.
Fleur was not allowed in the Order, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to be part of it right now, not out of cowardice, but because she could only depict too clearly in her head the danger they were all in, and she knew Bill wasn’t ready to have one more loved on in danger.
So they went to Egypt, and Bill started introducing her to some of his friends. He showed her the places he loved the most. He showed his world, and she fell even more deeply in love with him, for he was so generous when sharing, she felt like she barely deserved the trust he placed in her.
“But you do, Fleur,” he had told her when she had said that concern out loud. “I love you”.
“I love you too,” she answered, then let him lead her to another one of his favorite spots.
She didn’t know what would be coming next, she didn’t know if she should be thinking about the future or taking it each at a time. She enjoyed thoroughly sleeping in the same bed as he for a whole week, as when in London, when he was not sleeping with her, he was running an errand for the Order. So many nights she had laid awake, wondering if she would get warned if something happened to her man. It was torture, but she supposed you had to take the good with the bad.
That week in Egypt was perfection.
“One day,” he told her, “I’m gonna marry you.”
“Funny,” she replied with wit, though feeling so moved, “I don’t recall saying yes.”
He had jumped on her and tickled her mercilessly.
Overall, it had been the perfect trip. Coming back to London had felt so difficult, but the more they changed, became more intimate, became more fusional, the more she couldn’t wait for what would come next. She had her fears and he had his. She wanted to meet his family but knew that it would mean being introduced to more members of the Order of the Phoenix, and Bill still wasn’t ready. He would tell her about his siblings, she’d tell him about Gabrielle. He mentioned them going back to France soon, so that he could meet her family.
The future, in many ways, had never looked grimmer, with what was going at Hogwarts, and the Death Eaters on the loose. Only a blind man wouldn’t see the war coming, and she was not blind.
She was also deliriously happy. Being in love did that to you, and a French woman in love was unstoppable. She would look after her man, no matter what came next.
Ash/Slytherin/ 93 points (2778/30)