Chapter 1

The only sounds in this remote cottage are the waves crashing on the shore not far away and the music from an old radio Fleur turned on just to fill the silence. While everyone is sure to be out in the village dancing and having fun at the end of the week, she can't bring herself to do so.

Certainly, Voldemort was defeated a few months ago, the Death Eaters have disappeared and the Ministry is back under control. The war has ended and there are plenty of reasons to celebrate. People are overjoyed. However for those who sustain the losses of that war, a different celebration must take place: the mourning.

She keeps folding the clothes from their wardrobe neatly and putting them into boxes. This task is easier said than done, because she keeps stumbling on the memories of their short marriage. Like his old Gryffindor scarf or his favourite leather coat. She takes a pause and puts it around herself. It's too big, but is warm and cosy, and for a while she is again surrounded by his scent.

William, her dear husband, is dead, just another casualty of a horrible war. And it feels like someone has ripped a piece of her heart.

This is one of the reasons why she must leave Shell Cottage. Aunt Muriel insisted she should keep the property and keep living here, but she can't bring herself to do so. This safe house is full of memories of him and the life together they weren't able to live. It is a big cottage, a family house, and she is the only one left. Their family has been destroyed.

A faint knock brings her back from her memories and she carefully lays the coat on one of the boxes before going to check the door.

"Mrs. Weasley?" A man in a suit and a formal cloak greets her at the door. He seems familiar to Fleur but she doesn't recall ever speaking with him. "My name is Richard Smith. I was a friend of your husband." He offers a handshake which she quickly takes. "It's a pleasure to see you again. Although I do wish it were under better circumstances." He says gravely. "I am here today as William's lawyer."

She silently nods and steps inside, opening the door for him to follow her inside the house and towards the living room. "Please, get comfortable." She points towards the sofa. "Would you like some tea, Mr. Smith"

"No, thank you. I am fine, I don't want to inconvenience you."

"It is no trouble, really. I fancy myself a cup." Fleur occupies herself making the tea while he takes his coat off and sits on the sofa, but all too soon the tea is made and there are no more interruptions to what she can imagine comes next.

"Well..." He speaks without preamble after taking a sip of his tea. "There is no easy way to broach this... I am here because of William's will."

"I supposed so." She sighs.

He extracts a folder from his briefcase and reads over it. "His wish, in case something happened to him, was that you would have everything: your shared savings, the cottage... and my job here is to make everything as easy for you as possible." Fleur nods along. "We were friends for a long time and he was a really good man. He wished for you to be happy." He extracts an envelope from the folder and hands it to her. "He gave me this letter in the middle of the war. He wanted me to deliver it to you in case of his death... not as a lawyer, but as a friend."

Fleur takes the heavy envelope. "What is this letter?"

"I don't know." He shakes his head. "I am just the messenger. He only said that he hoped it gave you closure and the strength to be happy again."

She looks down at the envelope now in her hands and brushes the tears away with the sleeve of her own shirt. Mr. Smith coughs.

"Now, I think you need privacy to read that. I don't want to impose anymore." He leaves the folder on the table. "Here are the deeds and everything. I have also added my contact information, if you wish to discuss something else."

"I might take you up on that, Mr. Smith." She intercedes before the man runs out of the place. "I am leaving this house, too many memories, and I wish to return the property to Aunt Muriel."

"I understand." He nods. "If you wish, I could look into it and prepare the paperwork for you."

"That'd be very helpful, thank you."

The man stands up and shakes her hand. "Thank you for the tea, Mrs. Weasley. I'll see you soon."

"See you soon, Mr. Smith." Fleur closes the door and can hear a faint 'pop' as the man reaches the end of the protection spells around the property and apparates away. She sits again in front of the fire in the living room, in his old armchair, and refills her teacup.

She takes a deep breath to calm herself, opens the envelope and starts reading his handwriting.

My dear Fleur, my love,

If you are reading this letter, it can only mean one thing: I am so sorry, my dear. We certainly knew coming into a war, that there were some risks that we had to take and they obviously haven't paid off as well as we expected.

But don't fret, love. We have made the most of our time together. I believe we have been as happy and have loved each other as much as we could, given the circumstances. If I'm gone now, be sure that I have left with this knowledge and that I have done everything within my power to leave you in a better world without Him.

I want you to be happy, Fleur. I know it must seem easy for those who are gone to say it, that is always harder on the people that are left behind, but I truly mean it. When you are ready, you ought to do whatever you need to do to be happy, because life is simply too short and you deserve every bit of happiness.

You could point your beautiful blue sky eyes towards a new love. I know, my dear Fleur that you loved me very much, but I also know that I was not the mate destined to your veela soul. And you should go for it.

After all of this is over, you both will need someone to lean on and you could build together an epic love. I really believe so.

Yes, my dear Fleur. I already had my suspicions for a long time, but your connection with her became quite clear when she arrived to our home in such a bad shape and I have known ever since. Your mate is such an incredible woman. In fact, I don't think your veela soul could have chosen any better. As they say, she is the brightest witch of her age.

Hermione Granger is now a beautiful woman that will sure love you as much as I did, if you just let her into your life. Just... let her into your life and give yourself that chance.

Je t'aime, mon amour.

Toujours,

William

The tears, that really haven't stopped falling down her face since she started reading, now grow thicker and blur her sight, making it easier to imagine him sitting in that same cosy armchair by the fireplace, taking notes for work or plans for the Order on his black leather notebook and sneaking that letter from her. How and when did he become aware of her connection with Hermione? Was he upset about it? Disappointed? She really tried to explain her true nature to him as clearly as possible, but then failed to notice his reaction.

He was truly an excellent man and it still surprised Fleur that the quarter veela in her didn't also fall right in love with her.

For a while, she ponders the possibility of going back to France, back to her family. However, although at first she loathed the country, it has become her home. Her job is in London, right in Diagon Alley. She has made friends there. And honestly, she just has invested way too much in creating peace for the magical world in Britain to flee the country and go back to France.

So she sets to find a new home and everything seems to move quite quickly after that, finding her just a few weeks later already unpacking her belongings into her new home: a smaller apartment she rented in a quaint magic neighbourhood in London.

"That was the last of the boxes, right?" Fred has just levitated it into her new bedroom and meets her in the living room.

Fleur looks around and doesn't find any more boxes in the middle of the living room. "I do believe that was it. Thank you, Fred. I don't know what I would have done without your help."

He opens his arms and hugs her. It feels nice and Fleur's eyes start to fill with unexpected tears. "You are welcome, love." He says retracting from the hug. "You know we are always here for you. Our shop is not far at all, you can apparate whenever you want." He smiles sadly. "It'll get easier. Or so I hope. And when it does, you'll just have to keep pinching us, so we don't become bloody fools again under your veela powers." He jokes.

However, it is true. Ever since William died, the veela's thrall has subsided. The Delacour family tells her that it will come back with time, when her heart and body has recovered enough emotionally.

She gives Fred the smile he is waiting for. "Now, I must go back to the shop. George is all by himself there, he'll need a hand."

"Of course, I shouldn't have taken so much of your time already. Thank you again."

"It's nothing, really, that's what family is for." He shakes his head again. "Do you mind if we drop by after closing? George said he wanted to take a look at the place and make sure it has every ward we know of."

She smiles at the twins excuse, because really there is no much more to worry about when Voldemort has been defeated and his supporters are hidden, under the Ministry's prosecution. And also, because of her line of work, Fleur knows many more spells and protections of her own, although the joke shop owners may know of a couple of funnier ones. "How about you drop by, but we call it a housewarming party?"

"That sounds so much better." He smiles. "We'll bring some wine and food. I insist." He adds quickly. "I think you will have enough with tidying and unpacking everything. See you later, Fleur."

"Á bientôt, Fred."

Fred isn't wrong. Fleur spends the rest of her day looking for places to store all of her things and hanging things in her new wardrobe, even with a little magical help. The afternoon is getting late when she finally is satisfied with how the place has turned out. She thinks she has managed to fill the space rather nicely and it looks homey. There is obviously still work to do, but sitting on the sofa in the middle of the room, she feels comfortable.

So comfortable indeed, that she actually falls asleep and is later woken up by the doorbell. She wakes up startled and looks around, noticing how the light in the room has changed as has the light coming from her windows. She tries to shake the sleepiness from herself and yanks the door open to find the twins waiting.

"Finally!" George exclaims. It is easier to tell them apart now because George tends to wear a fake ear that sometimes changes colours. "We thought you had apparated back to France or something." Fleur chuckles and shakes her head at the dramatic antics and steps aside to let them in. George gives her a one arm hug as he makes his way inside and that's when she notices they are not alone.

Fred quickly explains. "I know I said it was going to be just us, but we run into this trio here and thought they would add some to this housewarming party you are throwing."

"Hello, Fleur. It's good to see you." Harry Potter greets me. "Is it okay that we came? We didn't want to impose, but they insisted." He says meekly.

"It's a very nice surprise, actually." She answers genuinely. "It is nice to see you again." I smile. Ronald enters next and they exchange pleasantries. However, Fleur is already distracted by the woman behind him, closing the door.

"Hello, Fleur. How are you doing?" Hermione Granger asks her as she steps in front of Fleur and gives her a brief hug.

"Fine, I guess." She shrugs, returning the embrace. Hermione squeezes a bit her shoulders and lets go, giving her a smile.

After a tour of the place, albeit short because of its size, they all settle in the living room. Harry helps with the plates and glasses, pouring some wine, while the twins open the containers of Chinese food they have brought – a muggle kind of cuisine that they now adore.

The conversation is fluid and Fleur finds herself having more fun than in the last few months. Her thoughts diverse for a second, remembering William's laugh and something must reflect in her face, because suddenly she senses a squeeze in her hand. Fleur discretely looks for the source and finds Hermione, looking at her with sympathy in her deep brown eyes.

Maybe Fleur should follow William's advice, she thinks. Because, after all, he knew her better that even she knew herself. She makes a silent promise, to always remember and cherish her memories and all she felt for William.

Then takes a deep breath, turns her hand up and squeezes Hermione's hand right back, shaking the sadness from her face and truly joining the fun her friends are having.