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1. by mollywheezy
Title: Wolfish Tendencies
Author's Notes: Contains a direct quote from Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows
Bill expertly twirled Fleur without missing a step. When he pulled her back close to him, he whispered in her ear, "You are a gorgeous woman, Mrs. Weasley. A-roooo."
Fleur giggled at Bill's fake howl, "And you are a sexy beast, Mr. Weasley."
Bill waggled his eyebrows. "Speaking of beasts, what is that thing?" Bill gestured to the patronus across the dance floor.
"A lynx. I believe zat is Kingsley's patronus. I hope nothing is wrong . . .maybe he has just sent greetings?"
Fleur's smile vanished as her fears were confirmed by Kingsley's deep, slow voice coming from the cat, "The Ministry has fallen. Scrimgeour is dead. They are coming."
Bill and Fleur stood back to back firing spells as fast as possible. Bill had seen Harry, Ron, and Hermione Apparate out when the Death Eaters Apparated in. He didn't know whether to be more or less worried about them. Bill drew comfort from Fleur's back pressed tightly to his as they fought off their attackers together. He couldn't see most of his family through the confusion, but he would make sure to protect his wife.
Then Bill heard the dreaded syllable.
He jumped, turning in midair to place himself between Fleur and her attacker.
Bill bared his teeth and growled at the Death Eater.
"Avada Kedavra!" The Death Eater fell to the ground.
"Protego!" Fleur yelled, but another Death Eater's spell broke through her shield, and Bill collapsed.
Bill opened his eyes, looking around blearily. It took him a full minute to realize where he was—Shell Cottage, his and Fleur's new home. By the moonlight shining through the window, Bill squinted, searching for Fleur. As his eyes adjusted, he saw her, slumped uncomfortably in the rocking chair next to the bed, wearing her dirt-and-blood-encrusted wedding dress, her face and arms covered in bloody scratches. He took her hand which was resting on the bed near him.
"Beel?" Fleur's eyes met Bill's. "Beel! You are all right? I zought ze Death Eater had killed you!" Fleur's tears created muddy streaks on her dirty face.
"I feel fine, love. Are you all right? How about everyone else?" Fleur nodded shakily. Bill sat up and held open his arms to her. "Come here." Fleur joined him on the bed and they held each other as they cried together.
After a bit, Bill reached for his wand on the bedside table and conjured a wet flannel. He gently wiped the dried blood from Fleur's face and arms. Extremely thankful scratches were her only injuries, Bill tenderly kissed away her tears.
Bill's fearful eyes met Fleur's. "I'm not going to Azkaban, am I?"
"No. Nobody mentioned your killing zat Death Eater. You saved my life." Fleur caressed Bill's cheek and softly kissed his lips.
Bill's heart swelled with a fierce love. He knew he would kill to protect Fleur, or even give his life for her. Bill felt no remorse. To save his family, he was ready to kill again.
2. by rougered
Rating: R, for a sexual situation, not graphic, though.
Author's Notes: Thanks to the mods for introducing me to a great song! I've found an interesting bit of information about Veelas from Wikipedia and I had fun with this.
"Oh yeah," Bill mutters, "Oh yeah."
The safest place in Shell Cottage remains this cupboard. They both have seen to that, and they casted the enchantments hoping to never resort to hiding. She keeps banging her shoulder against the shelves. It felt like a good idea fifteen minutes ago, the only place where Bill would accept to be backed in.
"No," he said when she pulled him by the waistband after she hunted him down in the kitchen. "Come on, Fleur, we have to -"
"And why not? Zey are sleeping. Zey are safe. I need –"
She needs to feel alive, he can certainly understand this. They have buried an elf days ago. Their house is now marked with death and silence. She has taken everything in without a wink. She has clenched herself shut, not allowing anything to get to her. They all looked pale and in bad shape, including that chatty girl that she enveloped in one of her coats.
"Oh," Bill growls as his back hits the sugar canister before it spills on the ground like an overripe fruit. "Keep doing this."
As if she needs directions or orders.
His skin tastes like the fear she has that something will happen to him one of these days, something worse than the attack. Seeing him going away for these missions makes her furious, and she paces the house in uttermost frustration. She aims herself at him when he's back, hoping to catch him off balance, trying to guess if he was in danger, if he fought. She can't let him leave her without touching him, without trying to engrave his body within her own so she wouldn't forget how exactly he was when he left home. She fears he wouldn't resort to killing if it were the only opportunity to defend himself.
She makes a deliberate pause. He groans louder, and she enjoys that. Temperamental Bill showing up. She knows more about him than he thinks she does.
"Don't tease," he whispers, his fingers clasping on her hips. "Don't-"
She waits a second, two seconds before kissing him. "You are in no position to command," she whispers back.
She told him once he had changed, whatever everyone was saying. "Well, I don't theenk you are the same," she said. "You have changed. You are like me now."
"Like you?" he said with surprise.
"Yes. You are different." She had nodded. "As I am. Did you know my grandmother can into a wolf when she eez angry?"
He had smiled softly. "You're no wolf, love."
He is smiling again. "Do as you wish, then. I'm at your mercy."
She moves with deliberation when she still feels the remnants of the she-wolf, the one who wants to crown herself with light and silk.
3. by elle_blessing
Author's Notes: Hover over the French bits to see the translations.
If you could only see the beast you made of me
Bill bared his teeth, a feral grin. There were faint, silvery lines etched into his skin, slicing through a brow to continue down his cheek, the line of his jaw. He looked wild and untamable as he stalked her.
Fleur’s pulse sped.
I held it in, but now it seems you set it running
Muscles moved beneath tanned, freckled skin. He was too quick to truly keep track of; it was something of the wolf that gripped him.
He came for her. It was instinct that had her shifting away - predator and prey. But then his body caged hers. “Loup," she breathed, blue eyes darkening as she met his - shaded a whisky amber now. "Mon loup."
Screaming in the dark, I hunt when we're apart
He sought her pleasure with an intensity that meant the full moon would hang fat in the sky soon. Joined as they were, his hand tight on her hip as he slid into her again -oiu, oiu, oiu - Fleur was sure she too could feel the call to run, to hunt and sing victories to the moon.
“Fleur,” he growled. “Just do it.” He was softer as he nuzzled her ear. “You know you want to,” he whispered.
She desperately wanted to, and so she did.
The wolf chased her and she screamed as the first wave of pleasure stole through her, made her body shudder, her back arch.
Drag my teeth across your chest to taste your beating heart
His teeth found purchase where neck met shoulder and her nails raked down his back, bloody furrows. It was a wash of pleasure and pain, and the heady success of hunted prey caught only drove them over the edge again, and once more.
Wind howled against the window. The shadow of the cloud passed and moonlight painted their writhing bodies silver, demanded of them again, and again, and again ...
4. by tania_sings
Title: Being Human
Warnings: Some violence
Author's Notes: I just LOVE this song. Thanks, mods, for introducing it to me!
Bill had never imagined he could ever be grateful to Fenrir Greyback for anything, until Yaxley - that miserable scum - grabbed Fleur by the hair and lifted his wand to her temple.
Fleur had fought incredibly well and took down several Death Eaters; with his heightened vision Bill saw her try take some solace in that as she braced herself for the killing curse. He didn't have time to reflect on it, however, as he launched himself across the Great Hall to save his wife or die trying.
He moved faster than any human being could, faster than he ever could have done when he was still entirely human. He forgot all about his wand as he seized Yaxley by the throat, using his fists and feet to destroy the evil thing that had threatened Bill's wife, the wolf's mate, the most important woman in the world. Dimly, he heard his voice raised in a furious howl and for once he didn't fight it.
If the wolf within could help him to save Fleur that was the only thing that mattered.
When the red haze finally faded, he found himself tucked away in an alcove behind a heavy curtain with his wife's gentle arms around him. The sounds and smells of the battle were oddly muted, distant and unimportant compared to the sweet, baby-powder aroma of Fleur's hair all around him and the insistent, steady thumping of her sweet, sweet heart.
"It's okay", he whispered. "I'm back, love. It's me."
She pulled back the curtain and his heart sank. He knew they were needed; no one could spared from the battle who was able to fight. But he had come so close to losing her already and he knew he couldn't stand it if the worst actually happened. He'd give up, let the wolf take over. What would be the point of staying himself in a world without Fleur?
As if she could read his thoughts, Fleur turned and brushed her lips against his. It was a quick kiss, and chaste; they didn't have much time. But they lingered a moment afterwards, forehead to forehead. Even with his sensitive hearing, Bill had to strain to make out her whispered words.
"We weel be fine; I 'ave no doubt about that. But... just in case... please know I love you. I love all of you, Bill. I always 'ave."
Bill heart soared as the wolf within growled in approval and relief. Together, they rejoined the fight for a world in which love would be enough to keep a man human.
5. by gelsey
Title: Under the Autumn Moon
Warnings: violence, character death, serial killer
Author's Notes: I doubt you’ll like this, but the darkness suited my mood.
The first body appearing after a full moon was barely noticed.
The second was looked at askance, but no one thought much of it.
The third brought out werewolf hunters, certain there was a crazed beast preying upon helpless women.
The fourth confirmed the magi-coroner’s thought that it was a human, not an animal, who was killing pretty blonde witches.
The fifth body had Fleur casting worried glances at the empty side of her marriage bed, illuminated by the moon’s light. Had her looking in the mirror and seeing the dead girl’s face in the reflection.
The sixth month had her gut clenching as she peered out the window of Shell Cottage, had her pretending to be asleep after she saw the dark figure of her husband finally appear at the gate shortly before dawn.
She followed him, that seventh month. Stalked him from the house to a remote village. Watched him go into a pub and drink, then watched more as he followed a barmaid. Fleur’s heart broke and then shattered when instead of being an affair, Bill grabbed the woman’s hair and dragged her through a small gate into a graveyard.
Fitting, she thought faintly, and followed.
She could have continued to hide. But the initial scream lived inside her head.
“Bill,” she whispered, standing between two gravestones. It carried across the hallowed ground, causing his head to whip around and his wild eyes to land on her.
His stare froze her, like prey. As he leapt closer, Fleur couldn’t help but flee. He caught her easily. His fingers gripped her skin, tearing into it as if it were the thin clothe of her wedding dress from years ago. “You followed me,” he growled. “You never should have followed.”
“What are you doing?” Was that her voice, sounding so strangled?
“I do this so I don’t do it to you, and you followed.”
Demented, he was demented. Whatever beast Fenrir had infected him with had obviously taken over in the light of this cursed moon. Where was her good man? The man who doted on her? The man who loved her without question and never raised a hand to her?
“Bill…” His name was a sigh, a whimper, as he dragged her across the graveyard. His feet, she noticed, were bare and bloody, leaving shining footprints on the ground.
He threw her to the ground across a wide gravestone, a make-shift altar to a demon god. It occurred to her as he snarled, looking inhuman, than even a good man who was pure of heart and said his prayers at night could become a beast when the autumn moon was bright.
She murmured a prayer, a plea, something in French. There was no binding this monster again, though, she sensed. One moment of hope sprang up as he knelt next to her, kissed her cheek, jaw, and neck.
Then his teeth sank in.
A howl rose in her ears, and as it died, so did she.
6. by deathlydragon
Title: Beyond Control
Author's Notes: Hope you enjoy! :)
"Too fragile," he has said and now sits at the edge of the bed, staring out of the window where the pristine moon illuminates the night sky. The silvery light casts unflattering shadows on his face, emphasising the deep scars that run like trenches through his skin.
Bill looks dangerous. But Fleur knows that he isn’t, and she’s disappointed that Bill can’t see that she is not fragile despite her slender body.
She crawls behind him and wraps her arms around his bare torso. “You don’t ’ave to fear zat you’ll break me, Bill,” she whispers into her husband’s ear.
Bill turns his head, the reflection of the full moon mesmerising beautiful on his pale blue irises. “Yes, but I fear the wolf will…” He presses a hand on his chest. “I can feel this animalistic side becoming stronger.”
“Because of ze moon?” Fleur asks while swinging her leg over Bill’s lap, straddling him with her fingers tangled in the long red hair. She’s blocking Bill’s view to the moon, but his eyes still seem to glow with something.
“You shine brighter than the moon…” He was embarrassed by those words escaping him, trying to look away, but Fleur’s hands are quickly on his cheeks to keep him in place.
“Zen trust me zat I ’ave better control over you zan ze moon,” she says before pressing her lips against Bill’s. She can feel his resistance at first, but since she’s determined to set free whatever Greyback has left in her husband, Bill has absolutely no chance than returning her kiss, their tongues sliding sensuously together in a tangle that has pure victory throbbing through Fleur’s veins.
But only until Bill grabs her tightly and whirls her around so smoothly that Fleur reconsiders fragility.
With her back flat on the mattress and Bill atop of her, control seems completely out of reach. Bill is growling in a way she doesn’t know when he moves to her throat, scratching his teeth over sensitive skin and biting so suddenly and roughly into the flesh that Fleur fears it will leave more than a reddish mark.
It’s no longer victory that causes her heart to pound mercilessly against her ribcage when Fleur realises that the moon might be able to set free, but cannot control whatever is released. Not that such a realisation would keep her from closing her arms around Bill.
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