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magicbystarlight · 2 days

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Before I Knew You (AU Part 2)

Bill Weasley x Reader

Masterlist, Part One, AU Part One

Summary: What if the fall of the Ministry didn’t interrupt the wedding? For @pearlsofme

A/N:That fun smutty little AU has turned into a momentarily sad/angsty AU. I have much to apolgize for, sososososoososso sorry

Warnings: 18+, rejection, embarrassment, injury, minor character death, unedited, AU. Minors DNI.

Your eyes went wide in horror as Fred stood in the doorway, empty pot and wooden spoon dropping out of his hands. George was behind him, open mouthed.

"Out," BIll snarled. He tugged the blanket out from under him and threw it over your legs. "Now."

Neither twin moved for a moment. Then Fred lunged at the bed. "You sick pervert!" George caught his brother. The two of them struggled, George doing his best to keep Fred at bay. "How could you?" You could see George's grip on Fred slipping.

"Get out," Bill snarled again. "Out!"

"Fuck you!" Fred roared, tearing free of his brother's grasp.

Bill shot up, blocking his brother from reaching him on the bed. He took Fred’s swings, not returning any but shoving him back with a force that made him stumble. George had already retreated backwards out the door. Bill took a fist to the face. With one final push, Fred fell just beyond the doorway. The door slammed shut. Bill used his body to keep it closed as Fred’s rage continued on the other side.

You blinked and snapped out of the embarrassed paralysis. Pointing your wand at the handle, you muttered a quiet, “Colloportus.” The lock clicked into place.

The commotion outside grew. Footsteps going up and down stairs. Arthur’s concern. George saying something about it being a prank. Molly’s scolding cut off by Fred’s raging. Everyone else’s silence after he shouts what they’d seen.

“Everyone to your rooms,” Arthur said, his tone rigid.

“But—”

“Now.”

You listened to the retreating footsteps and doors slamming shut. Did the Burrow echo that much? There was a sharp tap on the door. “Are you decent?”

Bill looked back at you, covered in his blanket and shirt. His head tilted and brows raised in question. Your shoulders slumped and you nodded. It was better to get this over with. Bill turned the lock and opened the door and, god, you could have died from the embarrassment.

Arthur’s eyes swept over you once, lips thinning at the sight, before rounding on his eldest. “How much did she drink last night?”

“I didn’t drink.” Your voice is quiet.

Some tension in his face relaxed.

"It's not what it looks like." Bill's tone was defiant.

Arthur's gaze shifted. "Oh? It's not? Because drunk or not, she's a decade younger than you, William. Barely out of school."

"Dad, please."

"It was my idea," you said defensively. You weren’t a child. You were a member of the Order, one they trusted to heal them. Did that count for nothing? Did they not trust your judgment? "He didn't do anything I didn't ask him to."

Arthur stared at the floor beside you, too uncomfortable to look you in the eyes. "Even so, he had a responsibility. You’re too young.”

“I’m only two years younger than—” you stop yourself before you say her name. Still, Bill flinched. “This was between Bill and me and no one else. Whether you or Fred or anyone else likes it or not, I’m old enough to choose who I f–sleep with. After everything, I think I’m owed that.”

“You're right, dear, of course,” Molly said with her motherly concern. You hadn’t noticed her behind her husband. “But we’re concerned that maybe you rushed into things. Both of you have such complicated past relationships, going into a new one so quickly, well.”

“We’re not..it’s not like that.”

You’d never thought it was that, but hearing Bill’s quick rejection of the idea wounded you. Was the idea so awful to him? You don’t let yourself linger on it. “Yeah, it was just a bit of fun. Nothing more.”

Bill interrupted whatever his mother was about to say. “Nothing more?”

“I think we should let them talk this out alone, Arthur.” They, like George had before, retreated out the door. It shut softly behind them.

“Last night meant nothing to you?”

You were confused. “Not nothing, but like you just said it’s not a relationship.”

“No,” he said, shaking his head and stepping towards the bed. “I said it’s not like that as in I’m not using you to get over someone else. As in we’re not rushing into this with our eyes closed. Or at least that’s what I thought.”

His confession knocked the wind out of you. It would have been easier if he hadn’t said anything. You cared about him, yes. Enjoyed the night with him, yes. But last night was supposed to be his wedding. His engagement had only ended, rather abruptly and harshly, only a few weeks ago. He must be confusing his feelings, clinging to whatever seemed solid enough. You couldn’t do that. Couldn’t be that to him.

“Bill,” your tone was the same as Madam Pomfrey’s when she’d delivered bad news, “you're not over everything with Fleur, no matter what you might think.”

“Maybe not everything, but that doesn’t change how I feel about you.”

“It will.” One day he would wake up and realize and you couldn’t bear to face that. “This is a very normal response to something traumatic.”

“Don’t,” he warned, “don’t try to tell me this is all some bullshit. It’s not. I know how I feel and I know I want to be with you. I have thought about you every day since we met.”

“And what day was that?” He was silent. He’d proved your point. “I’ll be here for you, always. As your Healer and as your friend. But I won’t, I won’t, be your rebound. And I won’t let you be mine.”

The look on his face would haunt you. “I understand.”

—

He didn’t stick around. Work, he claimed, though you knew he’d had the day off. It’s more cowardly than you’d expected of him. To run. Leave you to face his family alone. You understood why. It would have been easy to shut yourself in the room you’d been given. But you don’t. No matter how awkward the Weasleys and their guests are around you, you don’t hide away.

It’s Ginny who treated you like nothing had changed. You wonder if her mother had asked her to keep you company, as she stuck with you most of the day. Her conversation, though continuous, never once veered towards what had happened. Quidditch, O.W.L. results, a few hexes she’d picked up. But never her brother.

Night fell and Bill did not return.

A letter dropped off during dinner to say he’d be somewhere else for the night.

“Good,” Fred grunted before being silenced by his father.

Sleep was as evasive as Bill. Tossing and turning through the night.

Molly’s attention in the days that followed was nearly suffocating as her eldest’s absence. She had none of the ease in conversation her daughter did. Bill’s name slipped frequently from her mouth, though the conversation switched quickly after. With Charlie returned to Romania, the twins back in their own flat, Arthur’s returned to work, and Ginny smartly avoiding her, there wasn’t much else to distract her. It was only when Ron, Harry, or Hermione caught her attention that she was diverted. It seemed she was intent on keeping them apart. You didn’t know why, but you remembered the amount of times the three of them had been involved in stopping He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named before.

Well. At least you could be of use to them now too.

“Molly, what spells do you use for the dishes?”

“Molly, could you help me mend this?”

“Molly, what’s your favorite recipe?”

It never failed to get her attention back. Harry shot a grateful glance one time after she’d cornered him on the stairs.

The full moon comes and goes. You wonder how Remus handled it without Wolfsbane. You wished Bill had come back to at least let you manage his pain.

Every day felt longer. A mix of worry and lack of sleep. It’s Hermione who commented on the dark circles that had formed under your eyes. She offered to help make a Sleeping Draught and it's only after Ginny’s added concern you accepted.

Even with the potion, you don’t feel rested. It’s easier to stow away the potion and use a bit of Dittany to hide the bags under your eyes.

It’s nearly three weeks after the wedding that it happened. Sometime in the hour after midnight Kingsley Apperated to the Burrow’s garden, a badly wounded Scrimgeour on his arm, calling out your name.

You reached them before they’d gotten past the kitchen.

“We haven’t got much time.”

You do what you can. Stem the bleeding. Reverse the contusions. Repair the laceration on his heart. There’s much conversation between Arthur and Kingsley, but you don’t pay attention. Drain two bottles of Blood Restore down his throat. Not enough.

“We must leave now.”

You heard it. The pops that signaled they had come.

You didn’t stop.

“We must go.” There was a tug on your arm.

You pulled away. “He won’t survive.”

“Neither will you if we stay.”

You refused, continuing to mutter spells.

A clammy hand closed over yours. “Go,” Scrimgeour croaked. Despite your protests, he sat up from the table he’d been laid on. “I’ll give you time.” Kingsley has to drag you away. You’re pulled halfway up the first flight of stairs when you see him stand, square his shoulders, and head towards the door.

You stopped fighting against the hold when you heard voices calling to find Potter.

Each flight of stairs turned slick smooth behind you.

You’d just entered the attic when you heard him. “Couldn’t save him, could you Mudblood?” Kingsley doesn’t let you pause. He helped hoist you up through a blasted out hole in the roof behind the rest of them. You’re not sure where they plan to go from here.

Then you watched as Arthure took hold of Ginny’s hand and jumped. They’re gone in a blink. Molly followed. Harry, Ron, and Hermione next. Kingsley held out his hand.

“Mudblood!”

You took the hand and jumped.

Rain pelted down as your hands caught yourself before you could crash into the ground. They sunk in under your weight. It’s dark. The moon covered by weighty clouds. Just over the sound of the wind, you thought you might have heard waves.

“This way!” Kingsley shouted, helping to lift you from the wet ground by the elbow. You didn't see the others. You walked down a slope until the texture of the ground changed. Sand. A beach. A light came through the darkness. A lamp in a window. A house. A person standing in the open doorway.

Bill.

You collapsed into him, clinging to him as the chill and reality set in.

“It’s not her blood,” Kingsley said when Bill’s panicked questions began. “Scrimgeour’s dead. The Ministry has fallen.”

Part Six

Before I Knew You Tag List: @believinghurts @frozenwisteria @maralisa124 @voiddylanobrosey @kyla-hale-blog @pearlsofme @minstens @sofrian @sheeple @alldaysdreamers @hotleaf-juice @elnmop @sweetphantomofyournoodler @itshardbeingamultistan @remuslupinscumslutt @thesecretwriter @cali-girl-in-heart @thxtmarvelchick @i-wished-upon-a-star-one-night @bitch-biblioklept @unstableyetloveable @psamathegoesrawr @camelliaflow3r @undeniablyyou @luciferismybabe @luvrsbian @pink-hufflepuff @queen-of-elves @bountydroid @solkee @m-rae23 @queenofbeingdepressed @smolmexicangirl @manzanosstuff @hungrhay @mae-foster @seb-buckybarnes @idga-fudgeicle

HP Tag List: @bamboozledflamplant @charmingandfantasticfics @discogrrl @squishytomatoes @benonlinear @byelannie @itsccc @bluegiraffeplushie @pancakefancake

#bill weasley #bill weasley x reader #before i knew you #bill weasley x you #bill weasley x fem!reader

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magicbystarlight · 7 months

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Before I Knew You - Part Ten

Bill Weasley x Reader

Masterlist, Part One

Thank you for reading, I love seeing the comments and appreciation for this story ❤️

Summary: You’ve spent years training under Madam Pomfrey in the hopes that you would join the Healers at St. Mungo’s at graduation. But in the aftermath of the death of Albus Dumbledore, you chose to join the Order instead. When you’re forced into hiding, you find yourself alone with Bill Weasley and his new wolfish tendencies.

Word Count: 4,037

Warnings: 18+, typical canon warnings, sprinkle in some miscommunication, age gap, questionable ethics from a medical professional. Minors DNI.

The ocean was louder than you remembered. Colder too.

Wet sand sank under your feet with each step, waves erasing the prints you left behind. The paper that morning had read August 30th. A month since the wedding. Six weeks since the farm. A little more than two months since the Death Eaters’ attack on Hogwarts. Eight months since you'd last seen your parents. A year since you’d kissed Cillian goodbye thinking there was a future together. Somehow that seemed too short a time for everything that had happened. All that'd you'd lost.

It had been easy to compartmentalize. Push it away and focus on anything else. But the holes were there. You missed the Cillian you'd known. You missed your parents and their excited, encouraging smiles. You missed Madam Pomfrey's complete trust in you and your abilities. You missed the days when you thought you had any control of tomorrow.

Three years working the Hospital Wing, two more being its frequent volunteer. All in hopes of a job at St. Mungos. You’d gotten it. A spot in the Janus Thickey Ward working with patients with spell damaged minds. The decision to walk away from it had been easy. You were no longer safe, yes, but that wasn’t why.

You could still remember his blood on your hands. The panic in Madam Pomfrey’s usually calm movements. His eyes finally opening, blue in a sea of red, and his hand gripping your wrist. He’d mumbled something. Impossible to understand. But he was alive and there was hope. He would live. Scarred and straddled with symptoms of an unknown severity, but there had been hope he could live his life mostly as he always had. Then Fleur had fled.

All he'd gotten was a letter. All you'd given Cillian was a letter. She’d sent back a ring, you’d sent back a bracelet. Maybe not the same, but they were kindred sentiments. And it was devastating to destroy something that in another time would have been forever.

The sand shifted as you sat. No wonder Bill hated the idea of you leaving. No wonder you had such a hard time actually wanting to leave. It was ironic how well matched you were. Poetic even. You his stand in for Fleur and he yours for Cillian. He could make you stay and you could stay. He wanted to protect people and you wanted to heal them.

But he wasn't Cillian and you weren't Fleur and this wasn't a relationship. This was two traumatized people trapped together in a war trying to keep each other alive.

High tide came while you watched the moon's reflection ripple in the water. The ocean couldn't combat the forces of the moon. How could you?

—

Bill sat, head in his hands, at the table when you returned to the cottage. Waiting.

"Thought you went to bed."

He looked up. Gods it wasn’t fair when he looked at you like that. Like he was relieved to see you. "Yeah, yeah I did, but I heard the door and I thought…”

He didn’t finish the thought. You had to look away. His sad eyes were for someone else. “I needed some air.” Had you looked like that when he left? Maybe the first night. Much worse the other three. "I wouldn't walk out on you." Not like he did.

"Right," was all he had to say.

Maybe you should have left.

"I'm off to bed then." You hadn't made it two steps before he pleaded for you to wait.

"Can we talk?"

It was too much. Your emotions were still raw, bleeding and blistering from the scab you’d picked away. It hurt. You were hurting. And he only cared because he thought you were going to leave. Gods, why did that make it worse?

"I don't fucking know Bill, can we? Cause I’ve tried. But every time you leave. Or we say ‘tomorrow’. But there’s never been a tomorrow, has there?” You couldn't look at him. If you did, you'd break. "I'm exhausted with this back and forth. Trying to manage being your Healer who understands how difficult this has been for you and being your friend who doesn't understand why you won't let me help you." You could hear him move, but you kept your gaze fixed on the stairs. "I can't keep doing this, having this same conversation with you. I know it's a lot, I get it, I do, but I'm terrfied I'm going to watch you die in this fucking cottage because your ego is too fucking big to let someone take care of you." He was standing right behind you. You could step back, let his arms wrap around you.

"I had nightmares." It was a fragile confession. An admission he didn't want to give. "Every night after that first one in the Hospital Wing. They always changed, but it was mostly just Greyback and Death Eaters coming after the people I cared about. Every night. Except the night Mad-Eye died. I thought maybe it was because I lived it that night, because they came back. And then we came here and it was so…peaceful. I just slept. Until I fucked everything up and left. The only night since then that I haven't dreamed of death and blood is the night I came back."

"You should have told me."

"What was I supposed to say? Sleep with me so I don't have bad dreams?"

You spun, shoving your finger into his chest. "And there's that fucking ego, Bill." "Ego? You think this has all been about my ego?"

"I know tonight was."

He started to say something, reconsidered, and said instead, "Alright you got me there. But, but, wait, please," he grabbed your hand as you'd begun to turn away again. "Think about this from my perspective, yeah? You’ve made it abundantly clear that you would do whatever it takes to make me feel even an ounce of relief.”

“Of course I would.”

“And don’t you see the problem with that? If I’d told you in the beginning that I needed to sleep with you and needed to fuck you, you’d have done it.”

“It would've taken me a bit to come around to it," maybe not as long as you'd like to admit, "but yeah. Yeah, I would have.”

“But not because you would have wanted to.”

He was wrong, but it only made you feel worse. “Do you realize how unethical it is for me to want to fuck you, Bill? It goes against everything I’m supposed to be as your Healer. You don’t have control over what’s happening to you, how your body’s reacting, and I’m supposed to be helping you through it, not taking advantage of you.”

“Taking advantage of me? I’ve got almost ten years on you. These last few months have been hell for you and now—now you depend on me for almost everything. What I want is depraved." He still held your hand, now clutching it against his chest. "I'm supposed to keep you safe and instead all I can think about half the time is…Merlin, you don't need to know. And maybe, maybe I can't help that, but I never had to drag you into it." Like you knew you would, you broke. Reaching up, you cupped his face. His scruff scratched at your palm as he leaned into the touch. "You didn't drag me into anything."

"I did, didn't I? Bringing you here? I should've taken you somewhere else with someone else."

"I think you're forgetting if it wasn't for you and Remus, I'd be dead. And if you hadn't been so quick at the wedding, I'd either been caught by Death Eaters or Cillian." His grip tightened on your hand, eyes clenched shut. "We've made the best choices we can, Bill. The ones that've kept us alive."

"It doesn't feel like there's been any choices."

"Well we have a choice now. We can figure out another living situation for me, with someone else and hope that alleviates some of your symptoms. Let me finish," you said as he opened his mouth. "We can do that. Or we can ignore how complicated and unethical it is for me to stay and we do what we need to do for each other. What we want to do to each other. But only, only if let me take care of you."

"So you do want me?" "Bill Weasley, did you hear any other words I said?"

His hand took hold of your waist, pulling you closer. "Every one of 'em. I'll let you run any test, answer any question, poke and prod whatever you need, follow every instruction you give. Promise. Just stay with me."

"I'm not doing this again. I won't have this conversation a third—" you paused and corrected, "a fourth time. If you can't—"

"We won't." His grip tightened, forehead pressing against yours. "We'll do it your way."

"Okay. Good." He felt so warm. "Maybe we should get to bed?"

“Yeah.”

“Together, right?”

“I do need you to keep away the bad dreams,” he mused before sweeping you into his arms. His amused chuckle as you questioned how he kept picking you up so effortlessly left you feeling breathless. “You’re light as a feather, love.”

It was only a few minutes later that he was breathing evenly beneath you in the small bed upstairs, an arm draped around your waist. He wasn't Cillian. You weren't Fleur. This wasn't a relationship. For now though, this was enough. One day it wouldn't be, but you closed your eyes and slept.

—

Nothing could have made you leave bed. It smelled too good, felt too warm. After weeks of terrible sleep, it was heaven. From Bill's steady breath against your hair, it seemed he wouldn't crawl out of bed anytime soon either.

Almost nothing could have made you leave bed.

Nothing but a loud pop, followed closely by another.

You were jinxed. You had to be. It was the only explanation for a Weasley horde popping into existence so early in the morning with Bill still wrapped around you in bed. Bill's wide-eyed terror mirrored your own as the shrill voice of Molly shrieked at the familiar laughter of Fred, George, and Ginny.

"...to Diagon Alley! Alone! To think I trusted you boys with her!"

"It was a quick stop," one of the twins insisted as you both fell out of bed and scrambled down the stairs. "Needed to grab something from the shop," said the other.

"And no one even saw me!” Ginny added.

“But what if they had! Don’t you think it would have raised a very dangerous question of exactly how you’d appeared there when no one saw you leave the Burrow? Hmm? They think they're watching our every move! We cannot have them question that!”

Five heads of fiery red hair came into view of the windows causing your own to whip around the house in case anything screamed, “We had sex last night!�� Bill seemed to do the same. He dove for something on the floor that you couldn’t see from the table. He managed to straighten up just before the door burst open.

Fred—you knew it was him because he had both his ears—was the first of the brood to come through with George and Ginny close on his heels. “Mornin’ Bill! Mornin’ Gorgeous!”

“Merlin, Fred! Have no manners stuck in that head of yours?” Molly gripped as she followed. She turned from her son and fixed you with a softer, apologetic look. “Sorry dear. We didn’t mean to burst in."

"Oh, we most certainly did," Fred countered as he made his way to you and threw an arm around your shoulders. George added, mirroring his twin, “We were hoping to catch you two doing something naughty.”

"That's it! Both of you, back to the Burrow!"

Whining shouts of protests came from the three younger Weasley siblings as you were released. “It was a joke!” “Can’t anyone have a good laugh these days?” "But it's my last day!"All you could do was hope that nothing in your face gave away the very naughty things they'd have caught you doing if they'd come by the night before.

As the argument continued, Arthur took the opportunity to break away. He approached Bill, his expression markedly more subdued than the others. He whispered something into his son's ear. Bill's gaze flitted to you—in worry? Horror? Embarrassment? Oh gods, did Arthur know? Did they all know? An uncomfortable bubbling in your stomach grew as the two disappeared into the bedroom Kingsley had occupied the day before.

“One more toe out of line and I will send you back, do you hear me?”

Your gaze snapped back to the others. No. They didn’t know. Fred and George would certainly never let you live it down if they’d known. Molly would not be looking at you with any kindness if she thought you’d taken advantage of her son. And Ginny… you didn’t want to know what she would do. You’d seen the aftermath of her hexes.

"Now outside. The three of you."

Ginny gave you a small wave as she followed her brothers outside. Definitely didn’t know.

"Again, very sorry dear," Molly said kindly. “It was just supposed to be Arthur popping over, but Ginny overheard and well, she heads off to Hogwarts tomorrow and she’s been wanting to come.”

“Of course, yeah—yeah. I think Bill mentioned he wanted to have everyone over. Before, you know, Kingsley and all that. Something about fighting chickens?”

“Chicken Fight. The kids do love that game.”

“Right, yeah. So, um, has something happened?” Your fingers picked at your lip as you nodded towards the bedroom. “You know, since Arthur was coming by.”

Molly hesitated before giving a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “Just normal Order business. Nothing to fret about.”

When you'd gone off to the farm, you hadn't really thought about bringing along a swimsuit. Molly, the ever prepared mother, had brought along an extra one-size-fits-all swimsuit for you. So you spent hours on the sand and in the water with the Weasleys doing your best to act like everything was completely and utterly fine.

Like you weren’t worried about what had happened between you and Bill the night before, or worried for his health, or worried about what that horrified look meant, or worried about Ginny going to Hogwarts the next day, or worried if Kingsley was alright, or worried if someone else was going to show up on the verge of death again.

You were fine.

Completely and utterly fine.

“You alright?” Fred asked as he sat next to you on one of the towels. His hair still dripped, his siblings continuing to toss around a Quaffle in the water.

You gave your best attempt at a smile as you pulled your knees tighter against your chest. “Yeah, of course.” You'd never been good at acting.

“Really?”he asked with a raised brow and skeptical tone. "Cause I don't think I've seen you crack a smile at all today."

Resting your chin on your arm, you watched Bill get tackled and dragged down into the waves by Ginny and George. Arthur was passed out a few feet away turning a shade that would rival his hair and Molly was sitting peacefully under an umbrella reading. Bill and Arthur had come out of the room like nothing had happened. Joking, playing, teasing with their family with an uncomfortable force. They wanted everyone distracted for the day.

"Maybe not alright. I'm worried about Ginny and all the other kids going off to a castle crawling with Death Eaters," you conceded. A half-truth. It would be Madam Pomfrey's first time completely alone in the Hospital Wing after three years of your help. She didn't need you, of course, she was more than capable of doing her job before you'd even been thought into existence. But you could imagine this year would be more of a strain than any other she'd experienced.

More than the year He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named hid behind the turban of Qurrial.

More than the year the Chamber of Secrets opened and petrified Muggleborns.

More than the year dementors roamed the grounds.

More than the year of the Triwizard Tournament.

More than the year Dolores Umbridge tortured kids in detention.

Even more than the last year that ended with Death Eaters storming the castle.

“We’re all worried,” he said, shielding his face from his siblings to hide his frown. “I—I tried to talk her out of going. Told her we wouldn’t mind going into hiding. But she’s stubborn.”

“Stubborn is a famous Weasley trait, isn't it?” It was meant as a joke, but it came out too dry. If there was anything you knew it was how stubborn a Weasley could be.

“Suppose it is.” He laughed softly as his sister ramed her shoulder into George's side, sending him toppling into the water. "Can you do me a favor?"

You side eyed him, knowing not to trust anything he asked of you. You'd seen plenty of people in the Hospital Wing after doing favors for him and George.

"Forget about it all for a few hours. Try to enjoy what's left of today." You looked back to the water. George and Ginny squabbled over the Quaffle. Bill was standing to the side, his face turned towards where you sat at the beach. "If not for yourself, then for Ginny."

Fred stood then, sand sticking to his trunks. Extending his hand, he smiled expectantly. "Let's go challenge Ginny and George to a chicken fight, yeah?"

Your response was automatic. "George is not cleared to have that sort of pressure on his ear."

"He's totally fine though!"

You scoffed, finally taking his hand to stand. "He is not! He has a hole where his ear should be."

"Oh, come on, love," he said, watching as you dusted sand off yourself, "can't we be a bit ear-responsible today?"

A smile fought to take hold of your lips and you had to look away from his triumphant gleam. "No George. But Bill did promise me a game."

"Oh, Ginny'll be stoked about that." He took your hand again, dragging you into the cold water. "Oy, you lot! Time for a good ole' game of chicken fight, yeah?" George cheered. "Not you though, Georgie Boy. Our little healer says you've got to sit this one out." George booed.

"She's with me," Bill said, nodding at you.

Fred tugged you closer, throwing an arm over your shoulders. "Fat chance on that, mate!"

"Does no one want me as their partner?" Ginny pouted. She didn't seem very serious, but it was enough for Bill to concede. It wasn't enough, however, to keep him from warning his brother that one inappropriate joke would end up with him sent back to the Burrow. Fred's promise of good behavior did little to soften the eldest's irritation.

He was jealous.

Ridiculously jealous.

Ginny suffered for it. What should have been an easy win for her, turned into a struggle with Bill constantly losing balance in the waves sending them both crashing down with the slightest push. Ginny still managed to bring you down a few times, but Fred was steady on his feet. It was Ginny, pushing hair and water out of her face as she stood back up again, who suggested a partner change.

Fred was reluctant to let you go. Didn't the two of you make an excellent team, after all? But you worried Bill might snap, the blue in his eyes barely visible with how wide his pupils had grown.

"It's just a game," you reminded him lowly before he knelt down in shallow water to let you climb on. He gave no response beyond a content hum when your thighs pressed against his face. This time it was Bill who suffered. More so than Ginny had. How, exactly, were you supposed to focus on a game when his hands were on you?

Fred took the wins with all the modesty of a Gryffindor. His boasting you could handle, but his attention focusing on you, trying to flirt like he always would was detrimental to Bill’s health. And his.

It was Molly’s fretting over George getting sand in his ear that gave a perfect excuse to ease the tension. Physicals. Everyone needed one. See how George's ear had been healing, check no one had come under the Imperius Curse. It’s what you were supposed to do in the morning with Bill, anyways. One by one you examined the Weasley's in the room you'd occupied upstairs. Molly was the first, voicing her concerns over each of the others. Arthur came next. He was silent, only answering questions asked. Then it was Ginny. She cried. She'd tried not to, but she was sixteen and the world had fallen apart around her. A small drop of Essence of Dittany cleared up the redness in her eyes before she returned to her family. Fred and George were together, amusing themselves with their banter.

And last was Bill. The door hadn't been shut more than a second before you were pressed against it.

"It's all in my head." His kiss was soft, but desperate. "It's all in my head," he repeated against your lips. Your fingers brushed a strand of his hair back into place. "It's just Fred being Fred. He doesn't know."

"Maybe we should tell him."

You chuckled, but he didn't. "Bill."

His response was to trail kisses along your jaw.

"Bill," you said firmer, pushing lightly against his chest. "We're not telling him. Or anyone."

"Why not?"

"Because how do we explain…this?"

"We don't have to explain. We tell them we're together and that's all."

Your heart clenched. It was one thing for you to know that you were filling the voids left by the war, but for the world to see that? No one would believe you were together for anything beyond convenience and desperation. It would be easier to explain the truth. "I'm not going to lie to everyone about what this is."

He pulled back, turning away and running a hand through his hair. "Right." He plopped on the bed. "You're right. You're not going to lie to anyone that we're together when we're not. I'll keep my emotions in check."

"It's not like we're going to have people here often. We'll be alone again in a few hours."

He nodded, blinking up at you in a neutral expression. "You're right. We should get on with the physical. It's part of the deal for you staying, isn't it?"

“Fine.” You went through the motions, checking him over. He was fine, a little better than normal even. His heart rate was accelerated, but considering his day that wasn’t much of a surprise. His mood has somewhat recovered before you returned to his family, thanking you with a searing kiss.

An extra chair had been transfigured from some old driftwood to add a seventh seat at the table for dinner. Fred and George had tried to take the side with three chairs, hoping to trap someone between them. But Molly was far too used to their antics and sent them to the other side to sit by themselves. Ginny was a buffer between you and Bill, his father beside him and Molly next to you at the ends. Ginny kept you talking throughout most of the meal Molly had made, asking as discreetly as she could about healing spells.

“It was so nice to come here today,” Molly said, dabbing a napkin under her eyes. “I’m so glad you suggested it, Ginny.”

“It was lucky dad needed to come today.”

George asked, mouth full. “Why did you need to come today?” Fred, needing to be part of the conversation too, asked, “Yeah, what’d ya have to tell Bill?”

You were going to let it be a family squabble, but Arthur made the mistake of looking at you and averting his gaze too quickly. “Bill?”

“I don’t think now is the appropriate time to discuss it,” Arthur said.

Bill disagreed. “Cillian went to his office. Asking questions about you.”

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