Harry can distinctly remember the very first impression he had had of Bill Weasley. It had been a simple impression; he’d only been pushing 14 at the time. Between the fang earring (a gift from Charlie from his first year on the reserve) and the long hair tied neatly at the nape of his neck, Harry had thought the man had been cool. Maybe Harry just thought he was cool because he did all these things despite Molly’s disapproval.
Naturally, at fourteen he had thought nothing past his impression other than what he labelled it. Bill was cool and that was that. They hadn’t interacted much in the proceeding years after that introduction, often enough to be friendly but not often enough to be friends. Harry thought that might just have been the nature of the war.
It wouldn’t be until after the war was done and over that Harry would really think about Bill Weasley again, in them tense, hopeful days after the war where Molly had barely let any of them out of the Burrow. If she classed you as family then you were at the Burrow, no arguments, regardless of the space. They had all come too close to losing each other in the battle, but maybe Lady Magic was looking over them as every one of the Weasley’s had made it through.
Harry had been desperately glad to have been so easily accepted under Molly’s wing in those days, the days after the very last of his connections to his family had been ripped from him. The Burrow had been sombre, they had all survived, but they had lost friends, people they had worked closely with for years and it had been difficult.
Harry had also felt suffocated, there was barely space to breathe and he felt a lot of pressure to grieve in a way that other people found acceptable. They’d ask him every time he was around if he was okay, tiptoe around him like he was on a tightrope and if they pushed too hard, he’d fall off. And so, he started to avoid them, couldn’t quite bring himself to leave the burrow, but couldn’t quite bring himself to be around people either. He’d become a shadow, sneaking meals after everyone was elsewhere or just skipping meals. He was used to the hunger enough that it didn’t bother him as much as it should. He’d find the quiet places in the Burrow. As much as he had hated the cupboard growing up, being somewhere so small, where he could see all the threats without moving his head brought him comfort, that cupboard on the second floor between Bill and Charlie’s rooms, a corner in the attic, the treehouse out in the garden.
Strangely these spaces almost made him feel closer to the family as much as he kept physically separating himself from them. He could imagine Ginny and Ron hiding in the treehouse after getting caught in the rain whilst flying, imagine Percy in the corner of the attic with a book, trying to just avoid the hub-bub of life as a Weasley, imagine Molly and Arthur getting into a rare argument and toddler Bill and Charlie hiding in the cupboard together. There were signs of the family’s life all over the burrow, in secret rooms he’d only just discovered, on scuffs on the wall he could only imagine the story to but could guess had something to do with the Twins.
Hiding, he supposed, was how things had started with Bill. While everyone tried to suffocate him when he was around, no one really tried to follow him, not quite knowing where he wandered off to when he was hiding, so he had become accustomed to spending his time alone. Until the day he had been found. He had been in the treehouse, it was probably his favourite on such a sunny day, he could see the sun streaming through the window, but shadows shaded him from the effects of its heat. It was pleasant, the perfect way to hide. Sometimes he’d take a book, most times he’d just sit there and think about the past, think about Remus and Tonks, about his parents, about Sirius, of Moody, Snape and Dumbledore. All the lives that had been lost because he hadn’t been quick enough, good enough, brave enough.
So lost in thought was he that he did not hear the hatch open on the treehouse, barely noticed as Bill settled down next to him. It was probably for the best really, Bill had long since outgrew the treehouse, too tall to climb gracefully into the place of his childhood. It didn’t stop him though, not when he just needed the peace and quiet.
“You’re losing weight.” Harry startled at the sound of the voice, calm and without accusation, but there, nonetheless. Bill’s face was almost carefully blank, hair loose, legs dangling out the hatch to compensate for his height. Harry still fit relatively comfortably in the space.
“I’ve always been small.” Harry said it with a blush. He had, always had been, the side effect of childhood malnourishment, but Bill wasn’t wrong. He had been losing weight. Bill didn’t comment, pushing his hand into his pocket and pulling out a croissant.
“Eat, Harry.” And Harry wasn’t quite sure if it was a plea or a demand, but he took it anyway. Nodding his thanks. He bit into it, he knew it was fresh, but it tasted stale, dry, flaky, empty in his mouth. He wanted to stop at that first bite, but he couldn’t, not when Bill was right there next to him. It was exactly the reason why he always snuck his meals, knew that despite not being hungry he’d force food down his gullet just to stop the worry. But it wouldn’t stay down, not the large, heavy, tasteless meals. So, he avoided it. He sighed as he finished the last of the pastry, it settling heavily in his stomach.
“Did Molly put you up to this?” He was surprised it had taken her this long to put someone up to it.
“Nah, needed to get away for a while. No one’s going to look for me up in a treehouse two/thirds my height, are they?” His grin was light, both calming and wrong in the melancholy that surrounded Harry, “Mum’s still trying to push me towards Fleur.” He sounded weary to an extent but not truly bothered.
“You’re not dating?” Harry had always thought they were, they were close and though Fleur did very little for him personally, he couldn’t deny she was in fact gorgeous. How could she not be, she was a Veela. Through the Tournament and Horcrux hunt Harry had been aware that her beauty was not just outside, “You brought a house together?”
Bill chuckled, “Because the rent was cheaper. Outside of Charlie, Fleur is my best friend. She’s not my type.” He said the last bit with a shrug, as if it was that simple.
“But Fleur’s a Veela? How can she not be your type? She’s a good woman too, you’d be lucky to have her.”
“I am lucky to have her, as my best friend. But she’ll never be my type, let’s say she’s a little too womanly.” Okay, it finally made a little more sense to Harry, “I’m sure she’d be very flattered by your assessment though. You are what, only four? Three? Years younger?” Bill’s grin was certainly teasing this time. Harry chuckled then, the irony of the situation hitting him. Laughter felt strange on his lips, he couldn’t remember the last time since the war that he had laughed.
“She’s not my type either.” He sent a cheeky grin up to Bill, one shoulder half tipping. And there wasn’t much more need for words after that, both content to run away with their own thoughts into the quiet warmth of company and the sun beating through a window of a little treehouse.
Bill came to find him increasingly more often after that. The first few times it had merely being chance, then with time it became an active thing. Bill had come to enjoy the quiet company. Come to enjoy the rare but interesting conversation they found themselves in. Bill hoped that he was helping Harry in some way, and when he finally opened up Bill thought he might be.
“I’m not ready for tomorrow.” Since that very first time, this was probably the most melancholy Bill had found Harry. It wasn’t unsurprising, three weeks after the final Battle and the Lupin’s funeral was now upon them. Harry and Bill had always kept their distance in the treehouse, but something about the sadness that went deeper than the frown on Harry’s face led Bill to wrap an arm around Harry’s shoulders, his breath fanning along Harry’s hair as the younger man leant into the embrace.
“You never will be.” It was one of the hardest truths, the lack of desire to accept things as they were would never go away, would never be ready to accept the people you loved were gone. Harry’s voice was almost silent when he spoke again, as if daren’t let his words be heard.
“I know it was better for everyone, but sometimes I wish I could sacrifice it all, that I would let Voldemort win if it meant that I had my parents back, if I could hear Sirius promise we could be a family when it’s all over again, if Remus could put his hands on my shoulder and level me with the steadiest look that made me think I was either very capable or very foolish or very brave depending on the situation.” Bill felt his heart breaking all over again at the thought of all Harry had lost, not having words that could make any of this better. He pulled Harry just a little closer, hoping that if anything his presence was bringing some comfort.
“Oh, Harry, I wish it could have all been different.” Bill couldn’t even begin to sympathise, he had lost friends certainly to the war, but his family was all still here, every time Harry had gotten even the chance of that it was stolen from him once again. And suddenly Harry was sobbing, his head burying in Bill’s chest, and all Bill could do was hold him even tighter and ride the storm out. His hands carded through unruly hair and he felt helpless, his heart breaking for the things that Harry had faced in just eighteen years of life, more than he had faced in twenty-eight he was sure.
Harry had apologised profusely once the sobs had quieted, a blush warming his cheeks from the shame of being so exposed. Bill had waved it off, squeezing him in the embrace they were still in.
“There’s no shame in grieving Harry.” Had been all that he had said. Harry wasn’t quite sure he agreed yet, but he accepted that he could not take back the vulnerability he had shown, “Mum’s making stew tonight, come to dinner?” Bill’s blue eyes were hopeful, that the light meal would be something that Harry could accept.
Harry just nodded, he wasn’t quite sure he wanted to be around the whole family, but he was surer he didn’t want to be alone with the grief still so close to the front of his mind. Harry almost allowed himself to smile as he saw Bill climbing out of the treehouse, he’d only ever seen the man as smooth, charming, put together, but he looked gangly, his limbs too long for his own good, as he extricated himself from their sanctuary. Harry’s own descent was smoother, more practiced. It was bound to be, between his smaller stature and the fact he was coming here, over his other hideouts, more often meant the trip was almost second nature.
“Is it not uncomfortable for you up there?” Harry couldn’t help asking, children’s treehouses were not made for full grown men of 6’5”. Bill, looking decidedly more comfortable on solid ground, gave an easy shrug.
“Better than some of the other spots you could have chosen.” His voice was light, making it clear that there was no malintent in his comment.
“Hmm, yeah, I can’t imagine you still fitting in the cupboard between yours and Charlie’s room.” Harry felt a little less comfortable with Bill, at first, now back on the ground, up in the treehouse Harry could forget that Bill was nearly a foot taller than his 5’8”. He kept his gaze forward to avoid focusing on the height difference, Ron was pretty much the same, so it was a tactic he was used to.
“Hmm, Charlie might still though.” There was amusement in the redhead’s tone, but all Harry could do was scoff.
“No way, he might be short enough just, but those shoulders would never fit.” He shook his head as he said it, not believing for one moment that Charlie ‘dragon tamer’ Weasley was capable of fitting in small cupboards.
“Whose shoulders will never fit where?” He hadn’t even noticed they’d reached the house until Fred was looking at him with curiosity and a characteristic grin.
“Harry doesn’t think Charlie can still fit in our cupboard upstairs.” Harry didn’t even need to look at Bill to see that distinctive Weasley grin on his face. He wondered just when he had been able to pick up the man’s expressions without seeing them.
“And you thought he could?” Fred’s voice was incredulous as they settled at the table for lunch. Harry was glad for the conversation so that all Molly could do was twinkle with a mixture of happiness and worry when seeing him at the lunch table, “I think you’re going senile in your old age, Billy.”
Bill swiped at Fred, and though Harry couldn’t quite pull a smile himself, he felt something warm settle in his soul to be back in the fold.
“Who you calling old? I’m in my prime.” Bill had turned his nose up at the end, his eyes dancing with mirth.
“Maybe if someone folds me in half I’d fit?” Charlie piped up; his face looked like he was genuinely considering it. Harry sometimes thought it was a wonder the Weasley boys made it through their childhood, let alone the war.
“Unless you can fold your shoulders, I think you’re out of luck.” Harry’s voice was quieter than the jubilant Weasleys’ but it was heard, nonetheless.
“He’d need an episkey from Lockheart for that.” Came Ron’s grinned response, Harry and Ron locked eyes at the memory of Lockheart and him removing Harry’s bones. Charlie bristled at the thought, rolling his shoulders as if to check they were still there.
“Shush now boys, tuck in.” With grins still being shared across the table, the Weasley family, Harry and Fleur tucked into their meals. After the conversation Harry had had with Bill that first day Harry couldn’t help wondering if Fleur was being made to stay to push her towards Bill.
“Who’s turn is it to wash up?” Ron asked the question to the table once everyone had finished. Harry almost grinned as Bill groaned beside him as all eyes turned to him. He nudged the elder man with his shoulder.
“I’ll help. I should pull my weight.” He shrugged, already starting to gather the plates from the table. He tried to ignore the worried looks from Molly, her brow furrowing.
“Are you sure dear? Bill can manage.” Of course, he could, thought Harry with an eye roll, knowing Molly just wanted to coddle him a little more.
“It’s a bit more fun when you’re not alone, right?” Gave Harry with a shrug. And if he was washing up with Bill, he neither had to be alone nor in the middle of the Weasley bustle. Harry should be slightly alarmed that he was falling back on Dursley habits in his grief, he couldn’t imagine it was a good sign for his mental state.
The next day had been just as bad as Harry had feared it would be. The mood in the Burrow just as heavy as he had expected it to be, they had all known Remus to varying degrees. Harry was sure it was impossible to meet Tonks and not love her, though he remembered Remus trying very hard to deny it. At this rate, memory would all be that he had left.
He felt wrong in the heavy black robes, right for the occasion but so very wrong for the people who were being buried. He could just imagine Tonks turning her nose up at the sea of black, Remus accepting it but secretly agreeing with his wife it was too sombre. He put his brightest shirt on underneath, the only colour he allowed on this day.
Even Hermione had turned up, her hair caught in a neat bun, eyes soft as she pulled Harry into a tight hug. He choked on the tears in his throat, sure that he’d only held back because of the tears he had let go yesterday. She’d spent the weeks after the war with her parents, they had been surprisingly easy to find, but their memory was only half back, they had to take it slowly so as to not fry their brains.
Hermione and Ron stood either side of him, Harry was convinced they had always been his strength. He let his hands grip each of theirs tightly as he watched the coffins lower into the ground, the officiator sounding wrong and impersonal as he spoke his rights. Harry couldn’t have told you a word he had said, them falling on empty ears and vacant eyes.
He had gone straight to the treehouse when they had returned to the Burrow for the wake. Hermione following his escape with concerned eyes as Ron placed a steadying hand on her to stop her from following. Harry was glad for Ron allowing him this privacy.
For the first time, Harry wasn’t glad when he heard the familiar sounds of Bill climbing the ladder. He continued staring at the wall.
“Not today, Bill.” He didn’t want to talk, he just wanted to be alone as his heart accepted that today meant that Remus and Tonks definitely weren’t coming back. Bill neither turned away nor answered, he merely continued his ascent, stopping in his usual space, one leg pulled to his chest, the other dangling out the hatch to the treehouse. Harry could feel the warmth radiating off Bill, his presence solid despite his silence.
Maybe Harry didn’t want to be alone as he thought he had.
That none of the other Weasleys knew where either he or Harry ever were, was a miracle, especially when his legs were hanging out of the treehouse most of the time. He was glad for it, nonetheless, never expecting to find friendship in his kid brother’s best friend. And yet it had creeped up on him, where he had started sitting with Harry out of chance, it had become a conscious choice, the moments with Harry the quietest he could ever remember at the Burrow.
Bill always made sure to bring some food with him, another thing that had started as chance and had become conscious. Bill was glad to see after nearly a month of this Harry looked pleased for the offering rather than like every bite would end with him being sick. He came to more meals too.
“Bill, what do I do with my life?” Melancholy as Harry was prone to be, this was the most lost Bill could remember hearing his friend since the day before Tonks’ and Lupin’s funeral. Bill settled back against the familiar stiffness of the wooden wall, only softened by the cushions that Harry had slowly started to bring up into his haven.
“You don’t want to be an Auror anymore?” That’s a lot of what Ron went on about, how he and Harry were going to be Auror partners and keep the world in check.
“I never really did. Didn’t think it would matter.” He accentuated his point with a shrug, as if the thought he wouldn’t make it through the war was something he’d long accepted.
“You thought you’d die.” He couldn’t keep the shock out of his voice, he couldn’t imagine his days at the Burrow without Harry now that he had them.
“I did die. It was just by chance, that I was a Horcrux, that I was able to come back. Sometimes I wonder if I made the right choice.” Bill couldn’t speak for a moment, his voice trapped behind the lump that was caught in his throat.
“I’m glad you did, come back, that is.” He settled on in the end. And though worry still shined in those emerald eyes they also shined with affection as they shared a sign. For all that everyone called Fleur beautiful, he couldn’t think the Veela held a candle to Harry in this moment.
He flicked his eyes away at the thought, coming as a surprise, unbidden. He had never thought of Harry as attractive before, not because he wasn’t, but because of the role they played in each other’s life. He was just his little’s brother’s best friend. Until now, now when he was a friend and he spent more time with the man than nearly anyone else.
“Do what you want to do, do something you love, explore. The world is at your fingertips.” He returned to the conversation, trying to distract his brain from his wandering thoughts, “Was there something that caught your interest when you were looking through the careers packages?” Harry didn’t answer for a moment, his breathing steady.
“There were a few I suppose. I liked the idea of being a vet for magical creatures. I like helping, I love animals, and depending on what route I went down I could settle or travel.” Bill certainly hadn’t been expecting that response. And yet he could almost imagine it, the tender way Harry would care for an injured Kneazle kitten, tickling a dragon under his chin to distract him from the pain it was feeling.
“You should talk to Charlie, healing might not be his speciality, but he should have some idea about the healer on the reserve.” Charlie was itching to go back to Romania by now. The UK, the Burrow, might be home, but his heart had always been with the Dragons.
“He wouldn’t mind? Me bugging him, that is?” Charlie had never been unfriendly to Harry, but Bill could understand his reservations. Charlie and Bill were best friends from a mix of being the oldest and the travellers, the younger ones just didn’t know them as well, Hell he was off to Hogwarts around the same time Gin was born.
“Nah, he’ll talk anyone’s ear off that will listen about his dragons.” Bill couldn’t quite remember where his little Brother’s obsession had come from, but it had never died.
“Why doesn’t he and Molly compromise? She wants him home and he wants the dragons. Surely there’s closer reserves.” Bill blinked. He had never considered that.
“Romania was where the offer came up, where he was needed. But I might just suggest a transfer to him now, maybe Wales could do with a new tamer.”
The first kiss came around two months after that first meeting where Bill had shared his croissant.
“I’m gonna do it.” Came Harry’s sure comment as Bill settled into his space in the treehouse. Bill blinked, the comment coming out of the blue.
“Do what?” Naturally, with his brothers, he was wary as to what that comment could mean.He had learnt the hard way that it rarely meant anything too good.
“I’m going to become a magical vet. ‘Mione suggested going back to Hogwarts, but I don’t think I’m ready. I’m going to self-study. The twins have already said they’d help with Potions, DADA will be a breeze after the DA, McGonagall has offered help with Transfiguration, and COMC I can subsidise with visits to Hagrid. I’ve actually got the time to study now, without someone trying to kill me every year.”
“It’s not the same as animal healing, obviously, but come to Shell Cottage, Fleur has some healer training before she moved to the UK.” Bill wasn’t sure, if he was being perfectly honest, if there was another reason he was inviting Harry into his home.
“Oh my, whatever would Molly have to say about that, “now, now, Harry, you’ve got to let the couple have their space.”” Bill chuckled at that, “Why haven’t you gone back to Shell Cottage yet. Fleur is clearly going slowly mad and I’m surprised you’re not after having your own space for so long.”
Bill felt his cheeks flame, Fleur did keep asking when they were going to leave, and all he could say was soon. Charlie had moved back to Romania just last week, though he was considering a move to Wales at most, and at least promised to come home more often. The truth was, he didn’t want to leave quiet summer days spent with Harry in the treehouse. In fact, unless he was at work, there was a good chance that this was where he’d be.
“I like the company at the Burrow.” He settled on in the end, hoping that his words did not give too much away.
“I doubt, as long as you came to visit, it’d be much different, most of the time you’re either at work, or up here with me.”
“Exactly.” Bill hadn’t quite meant to say it, felt like he had given too much away, was hyper aware of Harry by his side, his warmth constant and familiar, and strangely right.
“Oh.” Harry’s voice was quiet, and when Bill dared to look over those green eyes shined in the light streaming through the window. He watched warily as a small smile slipped onto the younger man’s lips, a crooked thing, tentative in the quiet, “I think I’ll miss you when you return to Shell Cottage, too.”
Bill was pretty sure, though not definite, that it was him who moved first, his hand coming to a cheek before his mouth followed, descending on Harry with a desperation he hadn’t felt in a long time. He couldn’t remember the last time a kiss has felt like this, but it was probably the first one that had built over quiet moments over passing weeks.
Harry flowered under his ministrations, lips moving with his, a soft sigh transferring into his mouth. Bill was almost glad for the size of the treehouse in that moment, glad for the restraint he demanded. He hadn’t necessarily imagined this, but it wasn’t anything like he’d thought it would be. The push and pull, the softness, the soft sounds that were audible despite staying in Harry’s throat.
He pulled back with a sigh, human nature demanding an end. Harry’s eyes fluttered open to meet his own, the pupils dilated just slightly, a grin determinedly on his face. This time it was Harry who led, pulling Bill into him to steal a single chaste kiss before allowing his forehead to rest against Bill’s. Bill probably could have professed a million clichés in that moment, like he was a magnet drawn to Harry, that the kiss was electric, that this felt more right than any other kiss he had ever had.
“Let me cook you, dinner sometime?” Harry’s words seemed louder just because of the silence that was their spot.
And then a year had passed, a magical year at that as far as Bill was concerned. That kiss had just been the start, and while their relationship was still a secret it flourished, nonetheless. As Harry had promised, one evening they had gone to Shell Cottage, just them two, and Harry had cooked them dinner. Except it hadn’t been just dinner, it had been their first date, Harry had set the little dining table with a few candles and a single Lily. He had been shy at first before realising that he was ridiculous, that this was Bill, his friend first and foremost. That first date had become fourth and fifth and sixth dates and even more, but all of them, by chance more than active hiding, had remained private.
In fact, the only person who knew about Bill Weasley and Harry Potter was Fleur Delacour. How could she not when a number of their dates happened under her roof, Shell Cottage becoming their place of refuge as much as the treehouse at the Burrow. With Harry’s self-study and known friendship with both members of the household no one bat an eyelid, thought something else was going on. Why would they, when they were all convinced that it was Fleur that put that look of love on Bill’s face?
Harry didn’t mind what they thought, as long as he knew, late in the night as Bill worshipped his body, that the look was reserved for him, aimed at him.
It had been near idyllic until just over a year later, another summer come and gone, before a spanner was thrown in a work. Bill had returned to Shell Cottage that fateful day with a dazed look on his face. It was immediately obvious to Harry that something was worrying his lover, a thought that was only confirmed when the older man swooped in for a kiss almost savage in its desperation. Harry, despite his worry, could do nothing but melt into the action, returning the fervour if not the desperation. Both were gasping when they pulled apart, but the storm raged on still in Bill’s eyes.
“Bill, Billy, what’s wrong?”
“Dad came to me today to talk about an old family contract that arrived today. He didn’t think it was a problem, you know how they all think I’m dating Fleur, thought they were just pushing forward plans we’d already made.” Bill was never one to ramble, yet he was now, his words coming out in a flurry, “There’s no way out of it, I asked the Goblins, I have to meet it’s terms or I’ll lose my very identity.”
“Bill, love, you need to slow down. What are you on about?” Harry rubbed his hands down Bill’s arms, hoping to calm the man from his panic.
“There’s a contract in the family, the heir has to marry before they’re thirty or else they’re stripped of the family name.” Harry’s brows furrowed, the Weasley’s now might be the kindest people he knew, but past Weasley’s had clearly being made of the same pureblood savagery of the Malfoy’s.
“We weren’t planning on it definitely, but it’s not a problem. Unless you’re that opposed to marrying me?” He thought his light words would cause laughter in his partner, but those blue eyes still tormed like the sea.
“It stipulates a woman. I have to marry a woman.” Harry took a sharp breath in.
“And there’s no way out?” Bill shook his head, “What other stipulations are there? Producing an heir, divorce?”
“Needs to be at least five years, and no heir is required as long as another Weasley has children.” Harry breathed a little. It was bad, but not terrible.
“Bill, it’s shit that they can put law’s like that on us, but it’s not that bad. Someone, probably Percy, or Ron will have had a kid in the next five years. Other than that, it’s just finding a woman who would be willing to accept that a marriage to you would be just to meet the contract. Because whatever happens, we’ll still have each other.”
Bill snorted at Harry’s calm approach, though Harry could feel some of the man’s own stress abating under his hands as he continued to stroke up and down his arms. Harry leant up, placing a gently kiss just to the underside of Bill’s jaw. It would be alright.
“And where, pray tell, do you propose we find such a woman?” Harry’s eyes twinkled as he made the suggestion.
“We wouldn’t force her of course, but my suggestion would be to give your family what they’ve always wanted.” Bill’s eyebrow’s knotted together for a moment before the understanding dawned in them.
“Fleur?” Harry nodded, an easy smile on his face. If anyone would understand, and also be willing to help, it would be Fleur.
“My friends, you are speaking about me?” Neither had heard Fleur return home. But apparently, she had heard her name mentioned. Bill flushed at the realisation, but Harry just grasped his hand and turned to face the beautiful blonde.
“We have a favour to ask of you. Quite a significant one at that.” She looked between the pair, at Bill’s worried blues and the determination in Harry’s emerald’s before nodding.
“I will make you boys some tea, and then we can talk.” It always made Harry laugh when Fleur referred to them both as boys for saying Bill was a good 6 years older than the woman. As much as Molly had not liked the French woman at first, they had a surprisingly lot in common.
Fleur let her mind wander to just what the two men could want. As much as she loved them both, outside of sharing her home, a mutually beneficial arrangement, they asked very little of her. In fact, she would call them her very best friends here in England.
She set the drinks down on the kitchen table before settling into one of the wooden chairs. She smiled softly as she saw that they continued to hold each other’s hand. She really wished that they would tell everyone of their relationship, she knew everyone would be so happy for them. But alas, it was not her place to out them, and as long as they were happy.
“What is bothering you both?” She took a sip of her tea as she looked at her friends.
“Bill has to marry a woman.” Harry’s lip curled up in distaste at the comment.
“An old family contract forced onto the heir. He must marry a woman before his 30th Birthday else he will be disinherited.”
“Merde!” She had certainly not been expecting that. Harry nodded in agreement to her assessment of the situation, Bill just looked like he would rather ignore the whole situation, “Is there any other stipulations of these contracts. An ‘eir? ‘ow long term would it be?” She needed all the information before she would accept it.
“It doesn’t stipulate an heir, though it is preferred. Obviously, we’d ignore that part. We have to stay married for at least five years.” She had no romantic prospects at the moment, any she did would have to understand her loyalty to her friends to be worth her time. It would only, when all was said and done, be a piece of paper disallowing her marriage for five years. She could not see that as too much of a chore in comparison to helping out her dear friends.
“I will do it.” Her voice was strong and sure, brokering no argument she was sure would come from Bill. Too righteous for his own good sometimes was that man. Harry smiled widely throwing himself into her arms, placing a kiss to her cheek.
“Thank you so much for this Fleur. Our debt to you is indescribable.” She rolled her eyes.
“Non, it is nothing. We will get a piece of paper to save Bill’s name, you will continue on your relationship as is, I will pursue any relationship I see fit. At the end of five years you will hopefully finally marry, and all will be well.” Bill looked like he was about to cry, Fleur got the distinct impression it was from relief that the situation wasn’t quite as bad as he had initially feared. She believed it truly, all will be well.
Naturally, the Weasley’s were ecstatic to see that Bill and Fleur were marrying. They flooded around and Molly was making plans as soon as the engagement ring was shown off. That, and a place to ‘honeymoon’ had been Fleur’s only stipulations to the agreement. Well sue her, she liked pretty rings, she would move it to another finger when out and about.
Whenever Bill placed an arm around her waist, she could practically feel the sensation of wrong that went through the man. She was around the same height as Harry, so the placement was natural, though she imagined the feel, with her distinct curves, was very different. Her heart went out to Harry, she could see the difficulty he faced as he watched the family fawn over her and her upcoming marriage, the casual intimacy between her and Bill that the family took for romance but was only friendship. They both agreed that this should be Harry’s place, and with time, it would be. For now, though, Bill and Harry continued on as they had in private moments, being back at the Burrow more often, found them gravitating back towards the Treehouse, despite it being late winter.
“Oh my, we have less than a year to plan this, we must get on!” Molly was proving to be a true bridezilla despite only being the mother-in-law. Fleur got the distinct impression she would be ready to strangle the woman by the end of this farce. In fact, only Ron and Charlie seemed to realise that this may be not all that it was cracked up to be. Charlie knew his brother too well, and Ron his friend. It was a miracle no one else saw the jealousy rolling over Harry in waves. It was one thing to talk hypothetically, it was another to see all the plans be put into motion.
“Non, we will Marry in spring, a small affair, ‘ere at the Burrow.” Her voice was that same decisiveness that she had agreed to help fulfil the contract with Bill in, her eyes almost icy in their unyielding nature.
“You want it here?” Molly softened, her eyes filling with tears.
“Oui, we just want a small family affair.” It was already going to be too much of a show without adding unnecessary spectators. Fleur had told her mother the truth of the marriage, she had not been best pleased but had agreed to come and bring Gabrielle and her papa. One day, Fleur promised, one day she would find her man and it would not be the same farce of her marriage to Bill.
Bill felt sick. He thought that he would be ecstatic the day his wedding came around but all he felt was nauseous. This whole thing was wrong. As beautiful as Fleur was, both inside and out, she was not the one he wanted to marry. No, the one he wished to marry was there in the front row, sat between the twins, smile on his face possibly the fakest Bill had ever seen. He tried to keep his eyes away from Harry, there was no point torturing them both with what could not yet be.
“You don’t have to do this, Billy.” Charlie’s hand on his shoulder was warm and sure, but oh so very wrong. Bill gave the most convincing smile he could manage to Charlie, up there as his best man.
“I do.” Blue eyes searched brown before Charlie nodded, and they both turned, turned to wait for Fleur to enter.
No one could deny that Fleur looked a vision as she walked down the aisle. In another life he was sure he might have cried at the sight; in this life they shared a nod. A nod that understood that this must be done, a nod that acknowledged their plans for the reception.
And half an hour later, with lies of a relationship that did not exist, they were married. Molly had naturally been in tears. Appoline was keeping it together much better, then again, she was aware of the lie for what it was.
Just before Bill and Fleur were to leave for their honeymoon Harry joined them in the backroom to ensure they were ‘safe and ready’ for the journey. In actuality, Polyjuice was drank, and Bill’s lover became his wife, and his wife became his lover. Both looked uncomfortable in their temporary skin. Bill held a hand out to Harry with a smirk.
“Are you ready for our honeymoon, my wife.” Despite coming from a more feminine face, the glare was just as potent.
“Do not tease me, William.” Harry clasped a hand over his now delicate throat as his voice came out high and dainty and French, “I’m not talking again until this damn stuff wears off.” Bill and Fleur laughed heartily at Harry’s expense. Fleur was less perturbed, having already masqueraded as Harry once before.
And then they were off, Bill and Harry to their honeymoon, and Fleur, Fleur returned to the party as Harry, a secret smile on her face. Tomorrow, tomorrow she would depart for her own holiday. She had certainly earned it.
“Bill! Fleur! Oh, I’m so sorry to disturb you at such a time but it’s urgent!” Fleur stumbled back to her hotel room at hearing Molly Weasley’s frantic voice calling through the Floo network. She had, before this interruption been enjoying her holiday, she had been sunning herself on the beach, taking in the rays and developing a healthy tan.
“Molly, what iz ze matter?” Her tone was probably sharper than it needed to be, but she had no idea what the woman was doing here.
“Where’s Bill?” But before she could answer Molly carried on, “I know it’s your honeymoon, but no one can find Harry, and we were hoping for both your help in finding him.” Fleur swore under her breath. In all their planning they had not come up with contingency for where Harry would be for the duration of the honeymoon, as he was still studying there was little need to call off of work but had forgotten about his friends and family.
“Molly, calme down. All iz fine.” Molly sat at the order, confusion on his face, “Harry iz safe, ‘e iz on my ‘oneymoon.” Fleur explained with a little smile.
“What on Earth are you on about?” Okay, so maybe she had not done the best job of explaining.
“I will call Bill and ‘Arry ‘ere, they will be ze best to explain, oui?” Molly nodded absently as Fleur headed to the Floo, calling the address of the Hotel she knew Bill and Harry were at. America was several hours behind the Maldives, so Fleur was unsurprised to see a bleary eyed and shirtless Bill on the other side of the fireplace.
He was rubbing his eyes as he let out a bleary, “Wa’s the matter?” And seconds later Harry was there as well, equally sleepy looking, arm wrapped around Bill’s shoulder, a gentle kiss to his shoulder.
“’Arry is missing, or so your mother says.” Fleur offered with a smirk. They blinked in confusion at first before understanding dawned in their eyes.
“Shit! Mum’s there?” Fleur nodded once. Bill sighed, sharing a look with Harry, “We’ll be there as soon as we’re dressed.”
The floo connection ended.
“They will be with us soon.”
The moments between ending the phone call and Bill and Harry’s arrival was significantly awkward for saying this woman was technically her Mother-In-Law. Molly kept sending suspicious and confused looks to her as she sat in her saran wrap on the armchair in the lounge. She greeted Bill and Harry with kisses to both their cheeks when they finally arrived, glad for their presence so she did not have to deal with Molly alone any longer.
“Harry! You’re safe? Where have you been? Fleur hasn’t been making any sense.” Fleur snorted as the Weasley Matriarch crowded around Harry, patting him down to check for injury. Her snort turned to a smirk as Harry grimaced just slightly as the woman got to his hips, she could only imagine Harry wasn’t too disappointed despite the slight discomfort, that’s what honeymoons were for, non?
“Mum, let the man breathe.” Bill offered with an eye roll, pulling his lover away from his mother and into his own side with an arm around the waist. Honestly it was a wonder no one else had figured the pair out, they gravitated towards each other. Disgusting really. Molly watched the action with narrowed eyes before glaring at Bill.
“And what about you William? Where were you, you clearly weren’t here with your wife.” In any other situation Fleur would have laughed at the look on Bill’s face, Harry however had no such qualms, bringing a hand to his mouth to suppress his laughter.
“Mum, me and Fleur are best friends. We only married to fulfil that dumb contract. As much as you all wanted it, I’ll never be in love with Fleur because I’m gay.” Molly’s eyes widened at the admission, and Bill looked like he would be sick as he waited for his mother’s judgement.
“Is my boyfriend of a year and a half.” Bill said calmly, there was nothing more than to let it all out of the bag.
Of all reactions, Fleur had not been expecting Molly to start crying. She moved to place a hand on the woman’s arm.
“Molly, it iz okay, I knew going into this. We made the best of an old contract. We will merely divorce once we have played it out.” But Molly did not stop crying, her head in her hands before drawing Bill into what looked like a tight hug.
“Oh Billy, I’m so sorry I put you through this.” Bill patted his mother on the back, throwing Fleur and Harry concerned looks.
“Mum, it’s okay, it’s not your fault.”
“It is. You don’t understand. There was no old contract, just a new one, one I made because I wanted you to settle down with Fleur. I was so sure that you were both in love and just weren’t sure about marriage yet. I thought the contract would show you that marriage was the right thing for you both.” The tension was temporarily so thick in the air that it could have been cut with a knife, a flicker of disbelief crossing Harry’s face, betrayal across Bill’s. Bill stepped away from her, almost stumbling as if burnt.
“But I took it to Gringott’s, they said it was valid.” There was disbelief in the redhead’s tone, as if he couldn’t quite imagine his mother had done this.
“And it is valid, it’s just not as old as you think.” Molly had stopped crying now, her voice steady as she admitted her crime.
“Why? Why would you do that?”
“I thought it was best at the time.” She looked like she was going to say more but Bill interrupted her, standing, practically towering over her.
“For who? For me who had to marry someone I didn’t love? For Fleur who has had to put off any of her own marriage decisions for five years to help us? For Harry who had to watch the person he loved marry someone else?” But they were both Weasley’s and Molly did not back down, Harry cowering just slightly in the back of the couch as he watched the scene, Fleur with a hand on her wand if things changed pace.
“I didn’t know! You say you’ve been dating for a year and a half but no one else knew!”
“We didn’t go out of our way to hide it, just because no one realised. You were all so hung up on me being with Fleur that we didn’t have to hide it. Even if I hadn’t been with Harry do you think forcing marriage would be good for any relationship.”
“You needed to settle down! You’re nearly 30 that’s no age to still be a bachelor.”
“I don’t need to do anything! It’s my life, mother! Not yours, not dad’s, no one but mine to do with what I like.”
“It’s my prerogative to do what’s right for you, William.” Her eyes were steely, what guilt she had felt eradicated by Bill’s anger.
“But it wasn’t what’s right for me. It’s what’s right for you. Would another contract have surfaced in two years when Charlie nears thirty? Will you condemn him like you condemned me? Condemn him to a life where either him or his wife would be miserable because he’s asexual and never had any desire for a relationship? Making us all fit with your ideas of a successful adult life?”
“He just needs to find the right person, he can be happy!” Bill snorted at his mother’s ignorance. As much as he adored her, she could be ignorant to the wider world at times.
“He is happy. He has friends and us and his dragons, that’s all he’s ever wanted.” Sometimes Bill thought that Charlie and him, were so close because Molly had never properly understood Charlie, especially when he had reached puberty and hadn’t acted like Molly had expected.
“Look, maybe we should go home, explain to everyone else that I’m safe.”
Harry was certainly glad to see the animosity in the air end, but he was not glad, necessarily to be back at the Burrow. Not because he didn’t love them, but because he knew what questions would be coming as soon as everyone had hugged him a little too tightly to make sure he was actually all right.
Naturally, as was her nature, it was Hermione who started the questioning, her hug almost desperate in its tightness, “Where on earth were you, Harry James Potter? No one could find you! We thought you were injured! Or kidnapped! Or dead!” Harry patted Hermione’s back awkwardly.
“I’m sorry for worrying you all,” Then with a blush, “I was in America, with Bill.” One reaction was certainly not what he was expecting, Ron grinned, pointing a finger at his girlfriend.
“Ha! I told you. But no, you kept ensuring me that Bill was in love with Fleur, that it was someone else that Harry was in love with. But I know my best friend and I know my brother!” He sounded vindicated at the knowledge. Harry almost wanted to laugh, what a change of situation it was where Hermione was the emotionally inept one.
“Then why did Bill and Fleur get married, huh Ron?” Hermione was never one to back down though. Ron shrugged at the question; he hadn’t added that much up.
“I don’t think it was by choice.” It was Charlie that added this. Harry felt uncomfortable for the way they were discussing his relationship as if he wasn’t in the room, “I thought Bill’s comment to me on the day was an assurance he was okay with it, but hmm, maybe not. Maybe he really meant it when he said that he had to get married.” He was looking curiously at his elder brother, as if he was looking at the day with new eyes.
“Harry did look rather miserable at the wedding for how much time he’d been spending at Shell Cottage.” Came Ginny’s input. Harry got the distinct feeling that the family were kicking themselves for not seeing the truth sooner.
“Okay, okay we’ve all determined that Bill did not willingly marry Fleur,”
“But why exactly did they marry then?” The twins talked in that usual way they had, the way that both endeared them to Harry and greatly exasperated him.
“It was a contract. I married Fleur because of a contract. It stipulated I had to marry a woman before my thirtieth Birthday, or I would be stripped from the family.” Harry thought, personally, that was the worst part. That Molly had risked taking Bill’s very identity from him just so he would live a life consistent with her own beliefs.
“There’s no such contract!” Percy’s voice was sure, “No contracts were made for the Weasley Family since the 1600’s due to one that went very wrong.”
Harry could do nothing but grip Bill’s hand tightly at the tone that escaped his lips with his response, “There was no such contract until now. Until mum made one up because she thought it was time I was done being unmarried.” Bill wasn’t a naturally bitter person; he was easy going and rolled with the punches. But this hurt.
“That’s bullshit! None of it makes sense! Why would she stipulate a woman and not just marriage? Scratch that why would mum do that at all?” Ron always was the one to shout first and listen later. He looked wildly towards a stoic Bill and his mother, her eyes showing her guilt.
“It was the natural conclusion. Man and woman were meant to be together.” There was less conviction in her voice than when they were back in the Maldives. And yet somehow, to Harry, it felt all that worse. That Molly thought that marrying a man, being gay, was natural to an extent.
“You’ve lost it, mum. You do realise that only me and Gin are fully straight right? Until today always thought Bill was Bi, the twins are, Charlie is asexual, and Percy is Gay. I think you’ll be holding out for a while for those ‘natural’ marriages.” Harry couldn’t help looking at Percy with a little surprise. He would have never have guessed it. Then again, Percy always one of the more private Weasley’s.
His honeymoon was descending into Madness. He shouldn’t be back at the Burrow. He shouldn’t be feeling this hurt, and his mother should surely be more understanding. He just wanted to leave, take Harry back to America and enjoy the rest of their Holiday. But all the Weasley’s were involved now. With a sigh he wrapped his arm around Harry’s shoulder’s, knowing the man enough to know that he would have been hurt by his mum’s implication that gay marriage being unnatural.
“Honestly, at least Bill has good taste,” Ron flashed a grin to his best friend, “Can’t get any better than our Harry.”
“He was meant to marry Ginny. She’s loved him since she was a little girl.”
“Mum no. I loved the boy-who-lived. Harry, just Harry, is my brother, a very good friend. Plus, he doesn’t know I know, but I know Dean has brought a ring. We’re all happy mum, you’ve got to let us grow up.” Gin’s voice was calming, steady and so sure. Bill had never been prouder of her, her maturity shone through. She flashed him a grin, and any doubt that it might have just been empty words faded away with it. At least his family was behind him.
“I’ve made a right mess of things, haven’t I?” His dad had stayed silent until this point, but he wrapped an arm around his wife.
“I’m afraid so, Mollywobbles. They’re not children anymore.” He turned to the family as a whole, “Come, we should sit and talk. I think it’s time we were all a little more open.”
And so, they followed Arthur to the kitchen, clambering around the table. This would certainly prove to be interesting if nothing else.
“Well then, we may as well start with you Bill, being as you and Harry are why we are here. Fleur was aware before hand that it would not be a long-term arrangement? You and Harry are happy? How long have you even been together?” Bill’s hand was on Harry’s thigh as he smiled at his father. There was very little doubt as to the second question, while no one knew that Bill and Harry had been together, they had known both were happy.
“Fleur knew from the very start. She was the second person after Harry to hear about the contract.” Before he could carry on, Fleur interrupted.
“It was ze least I could do. I knew what I was getting into. Zey are both dear friends.” Sometimes Bill remembered how his family had first treated Fleur and thought that he and Harry didn’t deserve her and her agreement to help them. His dad offered her a sincere thank you, and Bill got the impression regardless of however fake the marriage was in heart, Fleur had been truly accepted by the whole family now.
“As for your other questions. I can honestly say Harry makes me the happiest I’ve ever been.” Well if his words didn’t convince them, he was sure the soft smile on his face would. Harry squeezed his hand where it still rested on Harry’s hand, placing a soft kiss to his shoulder, “We’ve been together about a year and a half. During the summer after the war.”
“That’s where you always disappeared to!” Ginny’s voice was almost accusatory, “No one could ever find you during the summer. And none of us could understand why you hadn’t gone home when Fleur was clearly going mad.” It was like everything was slowly adding up for them.
“And it was after Bill started disappearing that Harry started cheering up!” Came Fred’s addition with wiggling eyebrows. Bill merely rolled his eyes at his younger brother, honestly.
“Why did you keep it quiet so long?” Bill could see the genuine curiosity in his father’s eyes.
“It wasn’t purposeful, we just never really thought about making it some announcement, it just was. You mistook our closeness when we were here for friendship rather than the romance it was.” Bill explained with a shrug of the shoulder that Harry wasn’t currently leaning on. Even now, other than the kiss to his shoulder they weren’t behaving much different than they usually did, the Weasley’s were just seeing it with new eyes.
“I see. Or at least I do now,” Came his dad’s response with a grin, “Well, being as we’ve started with oldest, we may as well go chronological. Charlie my boy, Ron earlier said you were asexual, was he right?” Bill grinned to see Charlie looking so uncomfortable. It was nice for someone else to be in the firing line.
“Yes, Ronnie is right. I’m asexual and aromantic, I’ve never been romantically or sexually attracted to anyone. And yes, I’m happy, I don’t feel like anything is missing from my life. I have the dragons.” The fond smile Charlie had for his dragons was the one Bill recognised as the one from when Ginny was young. Their dad searched Charlie’s eyes for a moment before smiling warmly and turning his gaze to Percy. Said brother, rolled his eyes before interrupting before their dad could question him.
“Before you ask; yes I’m happy, yes I’m gay, and yes I’ve been dating Oliver Wood for 8 months.” George snorted at the last part.
“Talk about chalk and cheese.” Bill had to withhold a chuckle at the way Percy stuck his nose in the air.
“Yes well, it works for us.” And no one questioned him past that, knowing it would not do them well. Arthur then turned to the twins, taking a minute to study then, taking a second to tell which was which. Bill was glad for that; he knew that it bothered the twins more than they let on when people didn’t try to tell them apart. If Bill was being perfectly honest, it was something he’d learned from Harry in their early days. He had named them wrong and later, in their treehouse, Harry had told him where and why he was wrong and how he told them apart. He hadn’t got it wrong since. His dad finally settled on Fred, sticking correctly, if only by a few minutes, to his rule of chronology.
“Fred, any secret relationships from you? You are happy? How’s the shop doing?” They had started the day searching desperately for Harry, Bill didn’t think they’d imagined it ending with an interrogation.
“Nah, no secret relationship, yet. Just enjoying the bachelor’s life. People love success,” He added with a cheeky grin, “The shop is great, we’re going to expand soon, to another location and add fancy dress robes and spells to the main store.” Fred was grinning wildly, and Bill couldn’t help a small shiver of trepidation at more chaos those boys were bringing into the world.
“Oh, that’s fantastic! Halloween will never quite be the same!” Their father did not look as alarmed as Bill himself was, “And George! Things are still well with young Lee? You agree the shop is well?”
“Damn yeah, Lee is bloody great. He’s definitely going to love this story. And what do you expect? That I’m gonna disagree and tell you that truthfully we’re near bankruptcy?” He laughed just on the side of mockingly, showing what he thought of that idea. For saying that place was always packed, especially on Hogsmeade weekends, it would be a tad unbelievable.
“Ronnie? Things are well between you and Hermione? Your career, you are happy?”
“Well? Things are never well between me and ‘Mione, but that’s just how we like it,” He sent the fondest grin to his girlfriend, Harry chuckling beside him, “I think once the last few Death Eaters have been caught I’m going to go part time and start studying for sports coaching. I miss Quidditch, and it will allow me to explore some muggle sports as well.” He added with a shrug. Bill could imagine Ron in that career, could imagine his boyish ways would be a win with the children.
“Harry. I know we’ve heard it from Bill already, but things are well for you too yes?” Harry blinked up at Arthur. He was meant to be going in Chronological order, but he hadn’t asked Hermione, and Fleur had only commented because of the nature of the contract. Arthur met his gaze gently for a moment before he smiled warmly and placed a hand on Harry’s shoulder, “Harry, you must know by now we consider you as a seventh son, an eight child. You may not carry the name or the typical hair but whether you marry into the family or not we’ll always consider you a Weasley.”
Harry had to swallow around a painful lump in his throat as he simultaneously tried not to cry and beamed largely at the Weasley Patriarch, “Really?” He had to double check, make sure it wasn’t just some dumb joke.
“Always, Harry.” It was Molly that spoke. Her assurance steady despite her earlier unhappiness. And now that he looked he could see it reflected in the other Weasley’s too, in the roll of Ron and Percy’s eyes, in the matching grin’s on the Twin’s faces, in the warm smiles on Charlie and Arthur’s faces, the easy acceptance in Ginny’s and the squeeze of Bill’s hand on his thigh. His grin grew, knowing they saw him as family as he did them.
“I really don’t have much to add relationship wise. Fleur was beautiful but the wedding sucked. I’ve managed to get an apprenticeship at a local vets, it doesn’t start until after the summer, but I know it’s because they’re impressed with my work rather than my name because I set up a legal pseudonym with Gringotts.” His blush was pleased, he hadn’t even got around to telling Bill yet, his confirmation only coming through the morning of the wedding.
Bill turned to him with surprise, “You got it?” His eyes were shining with a mix of pride and lack of true surprise. As if it was a given. Harry nodded with a pleased grin, blushing just slightly as Bill placed a kiss to first his forehead, then his nose before adding one to his lips that was just short of indecent for the company they were in.
“Congratulations Harry, I bet you can’t wait!” Harry pulled away from Bill, blushing a bit stronger at Arthur’s comments, or maybe just the leering grin on Fred’s face, “Ginny, my darling, you mentioned you think young Dean is going to propose?” Ginny snorted.
“I bloody hope so for saying I found the ring in jacket pocket by accident. Maybe it will be on my birthday or the war anniversary? Soon I hope,” Her smile was fond, and Harry was unsurprised by the matchup after his sixth year, “Work is still good, they’ll be making me an actual player, rather than reserve next season, and if I do well I have a chance of making the England team by the next world cup.” There was excitement on Ginny’s face as she spoke of where her career was going, she always had been obsessed with quidditch, almost Oliver Wood levels of obsession.
Finally, when all their children had spoken, Arthur turned to Molly.
“You see Molly-Wobbles, they’re happy. Everyone of them. And no, not all of them found happiness through traditional roots, but they’re happy, nonetheless. And that’s all that matters, that’s all we ever wanted, do you remember when we first had Bill, and you looked down at him, and you made that promise that you’d make sure he was always happy? Well your promise, it’s fulfilled, and not with contracts and manipulation but by letting them live their lives.” Molly took a moment to look each of her children in the eyes, taking in the way they had all grown and take in their words regarding the life they had chosen to live, before she smiled a bittersweet smile.
“I’ve become a little bit silly haven’t I, Artie?” Harry blinked at the nickname, he’d never heard the woman use it before, her husband nodded not unkindly at her comment, “I guess I will have to go to Gringott’s and cancel the contract. It will do you all well.” Harry smiled at Molly, glad she had finally come around, glad that Bill would no longer be married to Fleur, only if it was only in name, glad that the family, their family finally knew about him and Bill.
“Okay but, can Fleur finish her holiday, and me and Harry finish our honeymoon before we sort out the paperwork?” And the Weasley’s let out a laugh, the tension slipping from the room.