Call Me Pretty

Chapter Eleven | It Runs in the Blood

WARNING: Attempt at heavy and very angry French accent below.

If unable to read or understand, sorry: Bill has trouble, too.

You are not alone.

Chapter Eleven

It Runs in the Blood

 

            The Headmistresses office was not a place Bill and Fleur Weasley hoped to frequent, or ever have to enter unless under the thought of good news. This however, was not good news at all.

“Why won’t zey let us see ‘er?” Fleur said again, getting up from her chair even though she’d just sat down “What could be so wrong that zey will not let us see ‘er?”

Letting out a long sigh, Bill stood and held his wife close. They had been married nearly twenty years, and never had they been so terrified for one of their children. The year had been hectic, planning for Victoire’s wedding, Bill’s work becoming quiet taxing and Fleur’s father breaking his hip-and they had been owled about Dom’s health not once, but twice in just a few short months.

“I’m worried, Bill.” Letting out a sigh, Fleur let Bill hold her close and nuzzled his neck. Had there ever been a time when his arms around her hadn’t made Fleur feel better? It seemed so, because his embrace wasn’t helping at all.

Smiling a little at how her French accent grew heavier when she was worried, Bill kissed the top of her head “I know my love, so am I.”

“Zey are killing us with suspense!” she cried, tears welling in her dark blue eyes “I must see ma bébé, ma fille!”

Fleur began to sob, strangled words in French pouring from her lips as Bill held her closer, praying for someone to come and tell them they could see their daughter.

“Mr and Mrs. Weasley?”

Turning to the door, both Bill and Fleur were momentarily taken aback, as everyone always was when first meeting Saherra Zatanna. Behind her stood Neville Longbottom, an old family friend, and Madam Pomfrey.

“Good afternoon Headmistress,” Bill said as Fleur dabbed her eyes with a hankie “How are you?”

“I’m fine, thank you Mr. Weasley. I would ask you in return, but…” glancing at Fleur, her face softened slightly “I understand that today is not one of your best.”

“Thank you Headmistress,” Fleur sniffed “I know you are very busy, but could we-could we see our daughter?”

“Soon, Mrs. Weasley; but I think it would be better if we had a chat first.” Sitting behind her desk, Professor Zatanna motioned for them to take a seat. Neville leaned against the tea table, and Madam Pomfrey stood off to the side.

“Is Dominique okay?” Bill asked, taking Fleur’s hand.

“No, I do not believe she is.” Said Zatanna softly “Your daughter ran out of class this morning Mr and Mrs. Weasley, and according to her dorm mates had severe stomach pains all last night. When her friends-I believe you know Mr. Wood and Ms. Bones?”