Drabble: Bill/Fleur
Title: The Gryffindor Season
Words: 397
Rating: PG
Warnings: None
"You know, Beel, it's your season." The porch swing creaked as Bill and Fleur swayed gently.
"How so, love?"
"All of the reds and golds of the leaves-they are Gryffindor colors, just like your hair."
Bill laughed, "I'd say my hair is starting to get more silver now."
"To me, your hair will always be like the autumn leaves." Fleur cuddled up closer to Bill and kissed his cheek.
Bill chuckled. "It's not fair-your hair was silver when we were young, and it's still silver now that we're . . ."
"Old?"
"Hey! I'm not old yet, just old-er. My hair might be as silver as yours someday, but yours will never change."
Fleur threw her arm across her eyes. "Ah! The hardship of being part Veela!"
Bill laughed, reaching around Fleur to tickle her. She shrieked and tickled him back. After struggling and laughing, making the swing jerk wildly, Bill breathlessly asked, "Truce?"
"Of course." Fleur cuddled up against Bill again, arranging the blanket over their legs to keep out the chill in the air, the swing still creaking.
"So, do the other houses have seasons?"
"Yes. Spring is for Hufflepuff with the black and yellow bees buzzing everywhere, summer is Slytherin with the bright green of the trees and grass, winter is for Ravenclaw because the sunlight reflecting off the icicles on the trees is sort of blue."
"That last one particularly is a stretch," Bill chuckled.
"It works best for Gryffindor."
"What about those orange leaves? Orange isn't a Gryffindor color." Bill winked at Fleur.
Fleur smiled. "The orange is for Quidditch season and Ron's Chudley Cannons."
"The orange leaves are the Cannons' consolation prize?" Bill and Fleur both laughed. "I can't believe Ron passed that obsession on to Louis," Bill sighed dramatically, "but the game next week will be fun, even though they'll lose."
"We see the children more now that they 'ave left home than we did when they were in Hogwarts."
"That's true. And we are all alone in an empty house. Why don't we go inside and curl up together in front of the fireplace? We'll still hear the wind whistling through the leaves, but can stay warm. We can drink some wine, eat homemade bread and that cheese you love. Then we can have . . . dessert." Bill waggled his eyebrows.
Fleur kissed Bill softly on his lips. "Let's have dessert first."
Words: 397
Rating: PG
Warnings: None
"You know, Beel, it's your season." The porch swing creaked as Bill and Fleur swayed gently.
"How so, love?"
"All of the reds and golds of the leaves-they are Gryffindor colors, just like your hair."
Bill laughed, "I'd say my hair is starting to get more silver now."
"To me, your hair will always be like the autumn leaves." Fleur cuddled up closer to Bill and kissed his cheek.
Bill chuckled. "It's not fair-your hair was silver when we were young, and it's still silver now that we're . . ."
"Old?"
"Hey! I'm not old yet, just old-er. My hair might be as silver as yours someday, but yours will never change."
Fleur threw her arm across her eyes. "Ah! The hardship of being part Veela!"
Bill laughed, reaching around Fleur to tickle her. She shrieked and tickled him back. After struggling and laughing, making the swing jerk wildly, Bill breathlessly asked, "Truce?"
"Of course." Fleur cuddled up against Bill again, arranging the blanket over their legs to keep out the chill in the air, the swing still creaking.
"So, do the other houses have seasons?"
"Yes. Spring is for Hufflepuff with the black and yellow bees buzzing everywhere, summer is Slytherin with the bright green of the trees and grass, winter is for Ravenclaw because the sunlight reflecting off the icicles on the trees is sort of blue."
"That last one particularly is a stretch," Bill chuckled.
"It works best for Gryffindor."
"What about those orange leaves? Orange isn't a Gryffindor color." Bill winked at Fleur.
Fleur smiled. "The orange is for Quidditch season and Ron's Chudley Cannons."
"The orange leaves are the Cannons' consolation prize?" Bill and Fleur both laughed. "I can't believe Ron passed that obsession on to Louis," Bill sighed dramatically, "but the game next week will be fun, even though they'll lose."
"We see the children more now that they 'ave left home than we did when they were in Hogwarts."
"That's true. And we are all alone in an empty house. Why don't we go inside and curl up together in front of the fireplace? We'll still hear the wind whistling through the leaves, but can stay warm. We can drink some wine, eat homemade bread and that cheese you love. Then we can have . . . dessert." Bill waggled his eyebrows.
Fleur kissed Bill softly on his lips. "Let's have dessert first."