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A Secret of Their Own

Summary:

Fleur and Bill share a quiet moment together on the beach.

Notes:

Written for Day 10 of the Weasleys, Witches, & Writers Fall Fluff Fest 2024.

The prompt: Bonfire

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

Fleur bid the final guest farewell and watched as they vanished through the Floo. She breathed a sigh of relief. As fun as it was to host friends and family, she always welcomed the solitude that followed their departure.

Shell Cottage sat quiet now. She tidied up as she walked through the front room. The dishes began washing themselves in the sink at a flick of her wand. Molly had insisted on helping before she’d left, so the food was already put away and the sand they’d tracked in from the beach swept away so not a speck remained.

Bill, however, was nowhere to be found. She wasn’t worried, though. She knew where he was.

Fleur closed the door tightly behind her, then made her way carefully down to the beach. The fall breeze wasn’t quite so cold yet to be unbearable, but they’d still lit a bonfire for everyone to enjoy. Some of them had enjoyed lounging by the warmth of the fire as they’d celebrated the reason for their gathering. Others had joined in on an impromptu Quidditch match with the beach as their pitch.

The flames were much lower now, the silhouette of her husband keeping watch nearby.

Silently, she slid an arm around his waist and welcomed his in return across her shoulders. He smelled of smoke and seasalt. Spice and musk. Looking up, she saw past the scars ravaging his skin to the wizard beneath–calm, discerning, and compassionate. He’d retained those qualities even after the werewolf bite.

He was rougher in other ways. There was a darker edge to his appetites. Fleur didn’t mind, because she, too, had her own violent tendencies. She’d demonstrated as such the first time they’d come together. He’d proudly kept the “battle scars” of her passion afterward, and continued to do so each time that followed.

They were mates. They were husband and wife.

Parents, soon.

“Should we go back inside? Are you cold?” Bill looked down at her with concern, already thinking of two instead of one within her still slender frame.

She shook her head. “You are all I need.” And it was true. One of the most notable changes he’d undergone was elevated body heat. It didn't matter how cold it got; he no longer needed to concern himself with thick cloaks or gloves. Fleur merely had to stand in the circle of his arms to warm herself, just as she was doing now.

“How’s our girl? Is she behaving?”

“‘Ow are you so sure ze baby is a girl?” she teased. They’d had this conversation countless times since they’d first learned of the pregnancy.

He tapped his nose as he smirked down at her. “Yet another side effect. I realised just today what it meant.”

Fleur rolled her eyes, but pleasure unfurled like the heat currently radiating out to her fingertips and toes.

A girl. They’d have to think of names. Consider decor. She would be the first of this generation–a victory considering all they’d endured these long years.

“Let’s keep zat our secret for now,” she murmured.

Bill hummed in agreement, pulling her even tighter into his embrace.

They stayed like that a while longer yet, the crashing waves and crackling fire their only other company under the waning light.

Notes:

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I adore beach bonfires--they're probably my favorite way to enjoy one. The sound of the ocean, the cawing of seagulls, the sand dunes covered with waving grass. If you've never experienced one, I highly recommend trying it out sometime if the opportunity presents itself. Just make sure to have the necessary permissions and safety precautions! Some beaches do not allow bonfires, or restrict them to certain times of the year.

This fest has me yet again writing from a new perspective. I've never written for Fleur before--her French background has me completely uncertain how to approach her character and dialogue. I hope I didn't do too poorly here!

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