My Eldest Weasley

Disclosures

Fleur

As the last of the mails were sealed and piled neatly onto the desk, I heard Bill enter the office. He had left early for work today, as he had been doing for the whole week now. But was never in the office when I would reach here. He'd skip our lunches and never explained his disappearances, even when I knew he was somewhere within the Gringotts building.

I felt him walk up behind me, but I ignored him and continued flicking my wand and collecting books scattered around in a pile one on top of another, distinctly aware of his gaze on me.

It had been a week since we got the message of attack on his father. After the owl arrived, Bill had tensely dressed, his face pale with worry, and left, assuring me of sending news as soon as he found out what was happening.

5 hours later, he sent me a message through his a glowing lion of his patronus, saying his father was admitted to St. Mungo's hospital and was said to be out of immediate danger, but he planned to remain at the hospital with his mum until he got to meet his father.

It was 2 days later that he had returned home, looking exhausted and dishevelled, and while I was burning to ask him thousands of questions, I had simply inquired his father's health and if there was anything I could do.

It didn't come as a shock to me that he didn't want me to visit his father, but it hurt nonetheless. And he knew it judging by the guilt in his eyes when he said so.

It was a week later now, and I was at work while Bill had excused himself to have his lunch break with Ragnok, one of the goblins, again, his eyes not meeting mine when he said he had some business to discuss with him.

While I wanted to be as supportive as possible, I was at the end of my patience with all these secrecy. He must've sensed the anger in my body by how aggressively I was flicking my wand, because next moment I felt his arms go around my waist and he kissed the spot below my ear, and whispered, "you're angry."

Not one to mince with words, I flippantly replied, "What was your first clue?" Bill sighed, his breathe teasing some of the lose strands of my hair as he nuzzled near my ear and said, "tell me how do I make it up to you."

I turned within the circle of his arms and faced him. Looking deep within his eyes, I asked him first thing that came to my mind, "why do you keep hiding things from me? Don't you trust me, bill?"

Taken aback by my question, he cupped one side of my face and said, "ofcourse I do, love. I'd trust you with my life. Never think like that."

"Then why do you hide everything from me, Bill? I let it go for months, theenking you must not be ready. But why you steel hide all zis theengs from me?" My accent was getting heavier, letting me know how emotional I was getting, but I couldn't help it. The thought of Bill not trusting me felt like a punch in the gut.

"Baby, I don't hide things from you because I don't trust you. I hide it because I can't imagine the thought of putting you in danger. If something happened to you...." he trailed off, as if unable to finish that thought.

I knew he meant well, I understood he was only trying to protect me, but all that knowledge did was fire up my anger. I pushed him off me, and demanded, "protect moi? PROTECT MOI?! I am NOT a delicate flower that needs protection, beel! I can take care of myself. I can protect myself if I need to!"

I drew myself up, finally feeling relief to have made my feelings known. Flipping my hair, I marched past a surprised looking Bill and walked out the office into the corridor. I knew I should be more sensitive and considerate towards him because of the week he's had, but I just couldn't bear to be seen as a delicate flower that needed protecting anymore. Least of all, to Bill.