Promising Young Witch | Bill Weasley

Bonus Story - A Hug

A/n - This is a story I wrote during the same time when I was writing Promising Young Witch. I ended up not finishing it so I didn't publish it either. But since this book is still active and receives so much love from you guys I decided I want to give some back. 

Summary: Y/n, Ginny and Ron just came to visit Bill who lives in Paris and works as a bookseller. However, Y/n did not expect her friend's chill older brother to be so overprotective of her.

This story is short and not finished, but you can treat it like a cool little daydream, or a drabble or however you want really. Hope you enjoy it.

***

The cold air of Paris streets went through my body, wrapping me up in its cold arms. I shivered and pulled up the collar of my trench coat to hide the neck. Ginny looked at me and chuckled, neither she nor Ron seem to get cold at all in this early spring weather. I sneezed.

"Alright let's get you inside before you get sick and won't be able to go with us to the fair tomorrow," said Ginny.

Ron turned around and slowed his pace, so we could catch up. Both Weasley siblings were now walking closely on each of my sides.

We stopped at the entrance of the old apartment building.

"It should be here," Ginny said looking around like there was no other option.

"He said he'll be too busy with the fair and all, so he couldn't meet us," explained Ron.

I sighed, it was time to go.

We walked up the stairs and I warmed up because of the exercise. The French didn't like elevators; it ruined the whole fleur of the old city even though this apartment building was as new as it could get.

Ginny knocked and without further ado turned the doorknob to open the door.

"Hey, we're here!"

"Come in!" I heard a voice shout from the depth of the apartment.

The Weasleys hurriedly took off the jackets and shoes and left them at the entrance. I followed suit, but less enthusiastically.

I came into the big room with vast windows that almost reached the floor. It was hard to tell whether it was a living room, a bedroom or a study. All around were piles of books and boxes, tucked in the corner was an undone mattress, and a few plants on the floor by the window. It was a mess and yet, I loved it. This was exactly what I usually did with my room, things are in their own bizarre places, but I knew where and why each of them were.

"Hey," someone interrupted my train of thought.

I switched my gaze from the room to the source of the voice. He was standing near the open box of books, with his shoulder-length red hair in a low ponytail. He had a fang-shaped earring and an oversized yellowish Van Helen t-shirt. He was also way taller than his siblings, who were now standing on each side of him. I could clearly see the resemblance now.

"Hey," I answered.

"This is Y/n, I told you she was coming with us, she loves all that walking down the street with coffee and a book jazz,"

I smiled at this weirdly specific description. From her, it almost sounded like a bad thing.

"Hey, Y/n," he repeated my name which from him sounded so different, so special. "I'm Bill," then he held out his hand.

"Nice to meet you, Bill," I held out mine for him to shake.

His palm was bigger than mine. Instead of shaking it, he just gently squeezed it, as if almost afraid to break it.