My Eldest Weasley

Cursed scars

Fleur

The last time I was being led up to the hospital wing of Hogwarts, it was right after the Tri-Wizard Tournament.

Injured and stunned, I was brought here barely conscious and shaken with fear and grief over Cedric's death.

Since then I had developed an unreasonable wariness towards this part of the castle. Even while standing guard, I usually avoided this place.

But tonight, as I was led up the grand staircase along with Weasley parents, my wariness had turned to an all-out panic.

My insides twisted and shrivelled at the thought of Bill - my Bill - lying on one of those beds.

Ever since we had apparated in the Hogsmeade and trudged the whole way up to the school, I had kept my eyes ahead and my face as impassive as I could, even with terror twisting my insides.

As we neared the doors to the hospital wing, we could hear faint murmurs of people talking inside. An achingly haunting voice was lamenting somewhere unseen, somehow echoing and soothing my innermost fears together.

It seems Molly's patience had ran out just like mine, because just as we reached the hospital wing doors, she pushed open the doors with all the force she could muster, before striding in with Arthur right beside her and me right at her heels.

The middle-aged professor, McGonagall I believe, walked upto us as we neared the far end of the room, where a small crowd was gathered, but Molly walked right past her, and straight to the bed.

"Bill," she whispered before letting out an anguished, "Oh, Bill!" She threw herself at him, sobbing and kissing his forehead.

All this while, I found myself frozen a few feet away from the bed, taking in every inch of him. His face was barely recognisable with all the slashes mark running from head to right down to his throat and neck.

His skin was ripped off from several places, as of someone had tried to peel off the very skin off his bones. The marks were angry, red and bloody with some traces of green liquid that Molly now sat mopping on his face.

People were talking around me, something about werewolf bites and complications. But I couldn't focus on any of it.

All I could see was his bloodied face, feeling as if the very skin was melting away from my bones. As if those slashes ripping through my body that marked his.

Before the pain could choke me though, some words flitted through my brain, registering and snapping me out of my daze.

Molly was talking as she dabbed the green ointment on Bill's face. "Of course, it doesn't matter how he looks. . . ."

What an odd thing to say, I thought, frowning slightly, her words slowly becoming the only things I could here.

"It's not r-really important . . . but he was a very handsome little b-boy . . . always very handsome . . . and he was g-going to be married!" she sobbed, and that was all it took.

My insides fired up like they had never before. How could she think that a few werewolf bites could ever make Bill stop loving me?

Before I could even think it through, I demanded, "And what do you mean by zat? What do you mean," 'e was going to be married?'"

Molly looked startled as she looked up at me, "Well - only that -"

"You theenk Bill will not wish to marry me anymore? You theenk, because of these bites, he will not love me?" I knew I was getting loud, but I couldn't help it.

She started again attempting to answer,"No, that's not what I -"

"Because 'e will!" I cut her off, drawing myself up and throwing my hair back.

"It would take more zan a werewolf to stop Bill loving me!" I informed her, my insides burning with confusion. How did she even think that this would change Bill the way he felt about me?

"Well, yes, I'm sure," she started again, stuttering around to explain, "but I thought perhaps - given how - how he -"

And it was then that it registered. Finally, I understood what she thought. What she meant. She thought that lowly of me? Was she truly unable to see how true my feelings for Bill were?

"You thought I would not weesh to marry him? Or per'aps, you hoped?" my insides flaming up, ready to spit fire.

Narrowing my eyes, I stepped ahead until I was nearly towering over her as I fumed, "What do I care how he looks? I am good-looking enough for both of us, I theenk!"

My gaze swept over his painfully mangled face and I continued, "All these scars show is zat my husband is brave! And I shall do zat!" In the same fit of rage, I snatched the ointment out of her hands, and pushed her aside to make room for me to sit beside him.

Mopping up the the strong smelling ointment on his scars, I ignored everything and everyone around us, my eyes transfixed only on Bill, who was right now in excruciating pain.

Moments passed as the silence stretched, no one even breathing around us, it seemed.

It was broken however by Molly's clear voice saying, "Our Great-Auntie Muriel has a very beautiful tiara - goblin-made - which I am sure I could persuade her to lend you for the wedding. She is very fond of Bill, you know, and it would look lovely with your hair."

After avoiding it for the whole past year, she now wanted to discuss the wedding! I refrained from rolling my eyes.

The angry part of me wanted to continue ignoring her. But another part, the one that had acknowledged her dislike for me had stemmed from her love for Bill, realised this was the moment she knew my feelings for him were real. That they ran deeper than skin.

This was the moment she finally found me acceptable for her son. Holding on to my last thread of control over my emotions, I stiffly replied, "Thank you. I am sure zat will be lovely."

And then as if that thread too broke, huge sobs wracked through me, and I wrapped my arms around Molly, holding onto her as I let out each second of the fear I had experienced tonight. I felt her arms wrap tightly around me, and she too cried openly, with her chin resting on my head.

Neither of us cared as big, fat tears slipped off my eyes and ran into her dress, her hand soothingly patting my back, letting me remove all the pent-up fear, as she addressed Remus Lupin and Tonks over my shoulder.

Had it been another time, I'd have put my two cents in about Lupin's ridiculous stand against being with Tonks. But right now, I could barely catch my breath.

As Hagrid entered the room to update us about the school and how ministry had been informed of Dumbledore's passing, the crowd around us slowly started to disperse.

It was nearly sunrise when Arthur pulled Molly out of the hospital wing, squeezing my shoulder gently on his way out. As the doors closed behind them, I caught hold of Bill's hand in both of mine and brought it up to my lips.

Laying my head on his chest, I gazed up at his scars. Cursed scars, Lupin had called them.

But no matter how much time I spent looking at them, I couldn't make myself call them cursed.

They were on Bill, afterall. They made the man that I was in love with. An extended part of him. Just like his brave heart and selfless soul. And how can anything that was a part of him be cursed in any way?

Even though his marks had stopped bleeding some time ago, they still looked just as painful and ghastly as they had when I had first seen them. Just as ghastly when Bill will see them.

It was then that I vowed to spend each day of my life, showing this man how perfect he was to me, cursed scars or not.