RP: Something Has Changed
Visiting her parents had been particularly draining this time. After the loss of Gabrielle, the Delacour family had become distant and felt cold. Her mother Amelie had dreams of her eldest daughter marrying a rich and influential member of the French Wizarding aristocracy and instead she had chosen an English curse-breaker who clashed with anything she had ever imagined for a son in law.
The contrast between the Delacours and Wealseys was obvious as those between black and white, night and day. The constant parties and socialising of Fleur’s family never offered the same sort of fulfilment as time with Bill’s family offered. In her family, appearance and reputation was everything. It had given Fleur her confidence, but nevertheless she much preferred how she was just accepted for who she was with the group of vivid redheads. Though she barely noticed the enamoured or often lascivious looks she got from strangers, Fleur cherished her in-laws all the more for their closely bonded ties.
Fleur made the effort to go visit her mother and father every few months for a brief time. The war was wreaking destruction on the lives of everyone around her and she stubbornly refused to let it tear her family apart, would not acknowledge that the fractures were there before the conflict had broken out and stolen her precious sister Gabrielle from her.
It had only been a short visit of two days. Stoatshead Hill was becoming busier every day, with more and more people congregating there as their homes were destroyed in random and pointless attacks. This was where their world would start to rebuild itself, if the war ever ended. So many people in one place though meant it was important to retain the peace and Fleur knew she couldn’t help if she was away in her home country.
With so many losses, the Order also couldn’t spare any help they could get. With two more days left of her visit, Fleur had cut short her mother’s disappointed murmurings and bid her parents goodbye. An odd feeling had been churning in her stomach and Fleur had the strong urge to get back to Stoatshead and her husband Bill.
Clutching the small jewellery box that had been transformed into a Portkey, Fleur felt the now familiar tugging sensation as stopped waving to her parents. The sight of the tall, dark haired wizard and his half Veela wife standing outside their palatial villa disappeared in a whirl of colours and the time it took for her to return to the point just outside the town seemed to pass in an instant.
Fleur landed on the weed-strewn gravel with a practised grace, her hair settling in a neat, silvery-blonde wave down her back instead of in a tangled mess like often happened to other Portkey users. Her hands swept over her midnight blue robes (they were her favourite, complimenting her eyes and figure spectacularly) even though they had been charmed not to wrinkle.
Something has happened. There was no question about it. The cool evening air seemed to hum with a faint, but unmistakeably noticeable hum of electricity. Her attention was distracted the moment after by the sound of someone approaching from around the corner. The crunch of the gravel under foot indicated the person was not trying to sneak up, but Fleur’s wand was at the ready - these days it was not safe to assume anything.
“Who is there?” Her clear, contemptuous voice rang out clearly through the air as the area was bathed in the bright white light that flared from her wand tip with the unspoken incantation for Lumos.