| Cassis By: GiantKiller [email protected] Author Notes: Bill and Fleur challenge fic- FRENCH!!!! She saw him from behind while she was sitting at an umbrella�d table outside a harbourside caf�. He was walking towards one of the narrow sloping streets leading away from the docks. She couldn�t say how she recognized him, though the ponytail- as flaming red as the swirling logo on the empty Orangina bottle in front of her- was a clear identifier. He was dressed in muggle clothing: cotton shirt, baggy shorts and straw sandals, but she wasn�t fooled. Feeling foolish but running with it she stood up. �Bill Weasley?� she called after him. He turned and approached her table. He stopped only a metre away, on the other side of the rope barrier surrounding the caf�s patio. His freckles were so densely packed that they gave the illusion of a tan. He smiled, very do-I-know-you. �Hi, uh . . .� �Fleur,� she extended her own, properly tanned arm, �Fleur Delacouer.� �Right, right. You were the Beauxbatons� champion.� He shook her hand. His grip was strong. She grinned, touched her wide-brimmed sun hat. �What brings you to Cassis?� He looked around. Cassis did have a small wizarding district, the Rue d�Magie, but this was not it. �You know I�m a charmbreaker for Gringotts in Egypt?� She shook her head. �Well I am. I�m here for the charms conference. Like a paid vacation.� �But that is why I am here!� Fleur cried, �My father is one of the speakers at the conference!� They laughed, a little too long. �Where are you staying?� She asked. �At La Monde a l�Invers, in the Rue d�Magie.� His accent wasn�t bad. �It�s really just a B&B- uh, bed and breakfast.� �I know the phrase. It looks cozy. We are just across the street, at l�Hotel Lunaire.� He nodded. She nodded. The silence stretched. �Well, I�ve got stuff to prepare.� He said. �I guess I�ll see you at the conference.� �Oui.� She said. �Yes.� He walked away, up the street. Fleur watched him go, then sat back down and fidgeted with the bottle. He was so cute! She�d thought so the first time she�d seen him, prior to the final challenge of the tournament . . .before the world had gone so dark. Before He-who-must-not-be-named was in the world again, before he killed one of the other champions- it could have been her!- and tried to kill brave little Harry, whom Bill had come to visit because he had no other family. �N�etre pas morbide!� she told herself, and looked out at the harbour. A dog was sleeping in the shade of a stone bench. Boats bobbed on sparkly blue water. Bill. Bill was tall and lean and modern. He had a steady job in a stable industry, he knew how to get around in the encroaching muggle world, and his smile would make a dragon blush- or even Madame Maxime! Bill was fantastic- he was obviously taken. Fleur picked up her shopping and went back to her hotel. *** The next time she saw him was couple of days later at a streetside patisserie. It was drizzling rain. She stepped under the patisserie awning, but he was talking to the owner and didn�t notice her. �Je voudrais un pain au chocolat, s�il vous plait,� he said, �and un caf� blanc.� He paid in franc coins. �Merci,� he said and blew on the hot, milky coffee. He turned and almost bumped into her. �Bonjour,� she said. �Fleur! What a coincidence, running into you again!� �The world is full of them.� She smiled winningly. �Don�t I know it, don�t I know it . . .� He offered her the croissant. She tore off the end and picked an almond off the top, sucking gooey chocolate from her finger. He tore another chunk and chewed. They finished the pastry. �That rain�s really starting to come down now,� he commented. �Where are you going? � �Just back to my hotel, when I spotted you.� Water spattered increasingly loudly on the canvas over their heads. �Then allow me to walk you back.� He stepped into the street and winced as a cold drop slid down his collar, which he turned up. He handed her the folder tucked under his arm. �Oh, no,� she said, �I�m fine. � �Take it,� he said, �It�s alright, it�s got an Ever-dry charm on it. Speaking of which,� he continued as they walked, he sheltering his coffee with one hand and Fleur sheltering her head with the folder, �I saw your father�s lecture yesterday. Some really innovative applications.� Fleur nodded. They walked in silence. When they got to the hotel steps she hesitated to return the folder. �Have you got a girlfriend?� she blurted. He stared at her, then laughed. �No, I�m single. But I bet you�ve got a boyfriend.� She shook her head. �Would you like to have dinner with me?� He blinked. �Fleur, you�re still in school.� �I�ll be eighteen in a couple of weeks.� �And I�ll be thirty in a couple of years.� �So?� He sighed. �Go on inside to your parents, Fleur.� She tried not to show that it stung, gave him the file and crossed the lobby to the stairs. He waited until she got to the first landing, then crossed the street to his own lodgings. Fleur flopped down on the bed in her and Gabrielle�s room, pushing aside a pile of her sister�s new clothes. Rejection, while not completely foreign, was not a familiar feeling. She had to admit she was surprised that he was that much older than she was, but she didn�t think that was the whole reason. Did he feel he was being disloyal to his school, his country? That was stupid. Did her accent put him off? Most English boys she�d met had seemed to like it. Did he just not like girls? She though he would have said so. She sat up and looked in the standing mirror. �Miroir,� she asked it, �Je suis jolie, n�est pas?� �Tres jolie, mademoiselle,� it answered. She sighed. *** The next time she saw him he was waving at her from across her hotel lobby. It was the morning of the last day of the conference. She had her book bag slung over her shoulder; she was going to the open debate before the closing speeches. �Fleur!� Bill called, coming towards her. She stopped on the last step. �Fleur, I�m sorry about what I said last night. It was just . . . well, for one thing I don�t know you at all. And I just kind of felt, with everything going . . . the way it is, that this isn�t the best time to make new friends, or start new relationships of any sort, because that�s just one more person you could lose. But then last night I couldn�t sleep, and I was thinking . . . this is when friends are most important, in the crunch-time. This is when you need other people most, and if we stop talking or making new connections that�s when we�re weakest and most vulnerable . . . you know?� He looked at her hopefully, earnestly. His eyes were brown and liquid, like a puppy�s. She didn�t say anything, just stared back. �What I�m trying to say is: Mademoiselle Delacouer, would you like to have brunch with me? I packed a picnic and I though we could catch a ride on one of the tour boats. The sun�s out, and it�s so beautiful.� Fleur�s lips spread into a radiant smile. �Monsieur Weasley, I would love to have brunch with you.� End Back to Book Fanfiction Back to Fiction Back to Main |