Fleur de Lys
Fleur checked the face of rose gold-plated watch. It was 4:58 and the normally unruffled and perfect-looking Fleur Delacour looked anything but. She had cleaned two floors and she still had two minutes until she was done. Blowing a lock of hair out of her face, Fleur lifted the last bottle of cleaner onto the shelf. After putting all the supplies back in their places, she shut the door of the closet and went off in search of Hildon.
She began walking down the corridor, back to the staircases when she turned the corner and bumped into something that sent her tumbling onto her bottom.
She looked up flustered to see dark red leather platform pumps. Merde. Her gaze continued up to see the flawless Emmeline Law looking down at her haughtily.
“Zorry,” said Fleur, dusting herself off and getting to her feet. She averted her eyes from Emmeline’s condescending stare.
“Next time watch where you’re walking,” replied Emmeline, side-stepping Fleur.
Fleur’s gaze snapped back up to Emmeline’s face. She narrowed her blue eyes angrily. “What ees your problem?” asked Fleur.
“Right now, it’s the fact that you can’t walk straight,” answered Emmeline, raising a perfectly-arched eyebrow.
Fleur shook her head incredulously as Emmeline walked past her. She continued on her way to the staircases and hurried down the steps the ground floor. When she reached her locker she kicked off her rubber boots irritably and stepped into her blue suede heels just as James walked into the room.
“So, how did your first day go?” he asked, putting on his white trench coat.
“ ’Orribly,” replied Fleur. “First I spilt cleaner all over myself trying to open ze bottle, zen I fell down a flight of stairs and nearly snapped my wand trying to clean ze sinks. Eet was ’orrible.”
“You poor thing,” said James. “My first day I spilled coffee all over my boss and accidentally spilt ink all over my brand-new lavender silk robes. But, don’t worry, it’ll get better.”
“I ’ope zo,” sighed Fleur.
“Don’t worry,” answered James. “It’s nothing a little retail shopping can’t cure.”
This is how Fleur Delacour found herself staring hopelessly at two pairs of perfect shoes. White lace-covered nude satin pumps and lilac patent-leather peep-toe slingbacks. “What do you zink?” asked Fleur, a shoe on each foot. “Wheech one looks better?”
“Definitely the nude lace and satin ones,” said James.
“Are you zure?” asked Fleur, staring desperately at the shoes.
“Definitely,” replied James. “You can’t go wrong with Muggle shoes like that.”
“Okay,” sighed Fleur, stepping out of the shoes and handing the lilac slingbacks to the sales clerk. She nestled the nude and white satin lace pumps back in the tissue paper of the pristine white box and slipped her feet back into her blue suede pumps.
“Feel better?” asked James. “The shoes are perfect.”
“A leetle beet,” answered Fleur.
“That’ll be £457,” said the cashier as Fleur handed over her credit card. But even when her card was accepted and the cashier handed over the white carrier bag, Fleur didn’t feel the least bit better.
“Okay, spill,” said James, pushing open the glass door of the shop and stepping outside. “What’s wrong?”
“Not-zing,” sighed Fleur. “Just zat zometimes I theenk zat I’d be better off back een France.”
“You don’t like it here?” asked James.
“Eets not zat,” replied Fleur. “Eets just zat I ’ad plans and I’ve been ’ere tree months and not-zing good ’as ’appened to me.”
“Well, the good only comes after the bad,” answered James. “Besides, things will look up.”
“I ’ope you are right,” said Fleur.
Fleur and James continued walking along the street in silence. “But, you were right about some-zing,” said Fleur after a moment. “Emmeline ees a bitch.”
“What happened?” asked James.
“Eets stupid, she’s just ’orrible,” answered Fleur.
“Well, don’t let her get you down,” said James. “She’s just miserable because she practically throws herself at Bill Weasley and he has never reciprocated, but he has an interest in you.”
“Me?” asked Fleur incredulously. “Beell Weezlee does not ’ave a zing for me.”
“I know Bill Weasley and he’s never looked at anyone the way he looks at you,” said James.
“Zat’s impossible,” replied Fleur.
James raised an eyebrow and Fleur hit his arm with her carrier bag. “ ’E does not,” she said.
“Whatever you say,” answered James, a smirk playing at his lips.
“You can’t deny zat ’e ees beau, zough,” reasoned Fleur.
James held up his hands. “Hey, I know he’s good-looking.”
Fleur sigheddreamily. “Eesn’t ’e zo perfect?”
“Sounds like someone has a crush on Bill Weasley,” teased James, poking Fleur on the side.
Fleur blushed. “Do you know any-zing else about ’im?”
“Hmm… Well, he’s a Weasley. They’re a pureblood family, but considered ‘blood traitors.’ I was a year behind Bill at Hogwarts and he was Head Boy and in Gryffindor, like everyone else in his family. He’s got six younger siblings – Charlie, who was in my year, Percy, and Fred and George – they’re twins… Ronald, apparently he’s best friends with Harry Potter and then there’s a girl…”
“I deed ze Triwizard Tournament at Hogwarts wiz ’Arry Potter,” said Fleur.
“And you never saw Bill? He did a brief stint at The Daily Prophet before coming to work at Gringotts and he covered a bit of the tournament.”
“I don’t zeenk zo,” said Fleur, racking her brains for any memory of Bill. No, she would have definitely remembered him. But, she did remember ’Arry Potter and how he saved her sister and giving him and his very flustered redhead friend kisses on their cheeks. “But, I zeenk I remember ’is brother.”
“You wouldn’t of been able to recognize him anyway, he doesn’t look at all the same,” said James as they continued walking.
“What deed ’e look like?” asked Fleur curiously.
“He was thinner and his hair was longer. He wasn’t as reserved as he is now,” replied James.
“Oh,” said Fleur. She remembered Roger Davies, the boys who had fawned over her and that boy at the Second Task with the long ponytail and dangling fang earring in the black leather trench coat who, she thought, her mother would never approve of. Although, isn’t wasn’t like she ever had the courage to go up and speak to him herself, either. But, she remembered, he had that crooked smile and solid jawline… The more she thought about him, the more he looked like Bill. Ah, non, thought Fleur, she had liked Beell’s brother!
“James, does Beell’s brother ’ave a long ponytail and an earring?” asked Fleur nervously.
James frowned. “No, none of them do, actually. Why?”
Fleur exhaled and shook her head.
“But, Bill had an earring. He was really into the rock scene when he was younger,” said James. “I think it was a fang earring.”
Fleur began to hyperventilate. She had met Beell before! He had been her crush in fifth year. “Zat ees not possible,” said Fleur.
“Why?” asked James.
“Because,” said Fleur. “I think I had a crush on him in fifthyear.”
James’ jaw dropped and he was silent for a moment before he burst out laughing. “Was it the earring?” he asked and Fleur hit him upside the head.
“Eets not funny,” insisted Fleur as the two continued own their way down the street.
“That’s like Merlin’s way of saying, ‘Haha, sucker,’ ” said James, grinning.
“Ha-ha,” said Fleur sarcastically. All she knew was that she would never be able to look Beell Weezlee in the eye ever again.
Author's Note So that answers people's questions about Fleur remembering Bill from the Triwizard Tournament. I hope you all liked the chapter!
Merde — Shit; Beau — Handsome
Thank you all for reading and review please!