In Quiet
***WARNING: DH SPOILERS***
Challenge Fifteen: Deathly Hallows Missing Scenes
Title: In Quiet
Author: Vaughn7272000
Wizard/Witch: Bill Weasley/Fleur Delacour
Rating/Warnings: PG/None.
Genre: Drama, Romance.
Word count: 760
DH Chapter: Chapter Six: The Ghoul in Pajamas
Summary: Bill finds solace in an unlikely place.
Ron's indignant, "I'm doing it!" easily drifts three floors down, shattering the momentary silence Bill has managed to find in the oddest of places: a tiny closet with a noticeable crack in its door. He is not hiding from his family, he tells himself, just trying to find a moment of peace amidst the chaos that has cascaded into his life. Lately, he thinks it's not even the chaos in his life that bothers him, it's the disorder and uncertainly filling those he loves and descending over all those around him, like the dark, ominous clouds sometimes seen trailing unlucky people in the Muggle cartoons Dad likes to read.
And it's not a closet, not really-Bill knows it's too small an enclave to qualify-but when they were little, long before his clever, inquisitive younger brother disappeared and was replaced by a diluted shadow of ambition, Percy somehow managed to keep it a neat and organised storage space; he was forever determined to have at least the same as everyone else, if not more. He can recall his brother using it often, bright red hair and an exasperated expression revealing itself through the crack when Bill was sent to find him for supper, but what Percy was using it for, exactly, is eluding him. The first time he came here to escape the hustle and bustle of the Burrow, it had looked entirely too small to be of any real function, so he concluded Percy must have done something to it in order to create a tangible illusion of space. (Something that wasn't in the line of curses, obviously, as Bill would have figured it out by now.)
Despite its once pristine condition, it is now covered in dust and houses nothing but a small, creaky wooden chair. He tries not to dwell on the symbolism too much.
He thinks back to those simpler times, when he all he had to worry about was Fred and George blowing up the entire lot of them or Percy boring him to death with the most minute details of his latest reading material, and is surprised when the door edges open and his bride to be slips in. He supposes people would think him an unoriginal romantic if he told them she could brighten any room, but here she is, proving it is true.
"Ah, so you 'ave discovered ze still spot, too?"
"Still spot?" Bill asks curiously. Fleur's unique perspective tends to confuse those who don't take the time to inquire further; the ones who just assume her English is flawed and she is misspeaking. Bill, however, knows better, and he waits patiently for her to answer.
She seems mildly distracted, glancing about the room with her delicate brow furrowed in concentration. With a graceful swoop, her wand is out, and before Bill can react, she says, "Révélez mon coeur!"
Bright lines crisscross the room, in bright shades of purple and pink, blues and greens. Fleur looks radiant as Bill takes it all in. The lines strongly resemble Mum's yarn, and there are dozens of items affixed to them. Prototype designs of the twins' various projects, which he hasn't seen in years, seem to float before him, the childish crayon scrawls tugging at a place in him he can't even find the words to define; Charlie's beloved plush dragon, Elliot, which Bill could have sworn was thrown out when he left home; something that looks like the remains of Ron's teddy; the delicate yet frayed bows Mum used to favour for Ginny's hair....
A glinting object catches his eye and he reaches out to it, running his fingers over the dented surface.
My old Prefect badge.
Fleur's voice breaks his trance. "It's still 'ere, you just 'ave to-"
They both jump at the sound of his mother's shouting from below, and a mischievous grin crosses Fleur's face. She slowly makes her way over to him, gracefully passing through the cramped space without disturbing a single object, and takes his face in her small hands, gently running her soft fingers across his lips in a way that both soothes and awakens him. He knows that while Fleur has shown him home, she also is home now, and it's nearly overwhelming.
She moves her lips next to his ear and whispers, "No Order, no war...'ere, time is still. All is still."
Bill nods, turning his head quickly and meeting her lips with his own, understanding completely now.
"We are still."
Author's Notes: Thank you for reading, but I am rusty, I'm afraid.
Proof-reader: TambourinePrincessoftheNight