Disclaimer: The World of Harry Potter is not mine. If you recognize it, it is probably not mine.
I hope you enjoy this cute Bill/Fleur one shot. It is a translation of one of my spanish stories, so a big high five to Adler-typewriter-co (tumblr user) for being such a great beta reader who don't judge my basic grammar mistakes.

The not so unbreakable rules of Fleur Delacour
by Simona Polle

Silvia Delacour taught everything to her granddaughter Fleur. Since the blonde was born Silvia knew that her veela blood was strong in her oldest granddaughter, so she needed to teach her how to use her charms. She had told Fleur it wouldn't matter what or who she wanted, she would have it, just as she had charmed Jean Delacour many years before.

With only fourteen years Fleur had noticed that her grandmother was right, maybe she was not a complete veela, but definitely, her blood had charms as powerful as Silvia's. She had learned which specific hair movements helped her to attract men, which smile would hypnotize them or even make them change their mind.

At sixteen, when her family allowed her to have a boyfriend, half of the cities male population, both wizard and muggle, had been mesmerized by her beauty and came to court her. Through her adolescence, she had three boyfriends. They did everything she wanted, they dressed as Fleur thought best for them, regaled her with jewelry, roses, and chocolates, and they took her to the best places in France. The last of them had even had magical royal blood.

Despite her fantastic boyfriends and being born into a family rooted and established in love, Fleur Delacour never believed in it. For her, it was only a spell of attraction that could be controlled, and she always had had everything under control. Because Fleur Delacour had rules, rules that should never be broken because she demanded what she was worth.

The rules were relatively simple.

Whoever was with her should have a respectable name, a prosperous future and a decent salary to indulge her. He must be a gentleman, be tidy and very neat. Fleur was not going out with anyone who would wear long or messy hair. She hated the fashion in which male teenagers wore ponytails longer than women. He also could not work on something that would require too much physical effort, because that would be synonymous with a labourer. Someone unimportant and she was not someone unimportant.

Her partner should want to spend time with her, but without harassing her, she didn't need, nor want someone who required all her attention. She also didn't want him to have a too extensive and immodest family. Fleur wished for him to have one or maybe two quiet brothers because she really didn't think she could handle four siblings in law. His mother also had to be evaluated. Fleur did not want to have anyone interfering in her relationship or be too judging of her. She also didn't want her mother-in-law to be a housewife.

But without question, Fleur had something clear, a fundamental rule that surpassed all others: her future husband should be French. She wasn't going to support any foreign classless man.

Or that was what she thought.

"Gabrielle," said Fleur to her younger sister at the family reunion of the Triwizard tournament "Regarder, Gabrielle, il est parfait."

Gabrielle, her little sister, was looking at her confused. She may be only nine years old, but she knew her sister and her high standards for men. Matching her older sister, Gabrielle was full of veela magic, therefore her sister had taught her everything and the man Fleur was pointing to with her eyes was anything but perfect.

Quite the opposite, he was a big strong man, dressed in a strange way. He was a mixture of an unabashed rockstar and a rough wizard who liked dragon hide boots. The Fleur she knew would definitely comment on how horrible those boots were. He also had red hair, in a tone too strong and with a ponytail! It did not look classy and indisputably his family did not indicate any sign of nobility. If that was not enough, he had freckles!

The boy looked at them for a second and for the first time in her entire life Gabrielle saw her refined and elegant sister blush. She could not believe what she was seeing. Had the tournament affected her head? Did her sister not see those awful, worn, dragon hide boots? Definitely, something was wrong with Fleur, because the normal Fleur would never be interested in someone who was wearing an earring and definitely her Fleur wouldn't have said what she heard after just twenty minutes of conversation with the man.

"Je pense que je suis amoureuse, Gabrielle"

Bill Weasley, as she discovered his name, was so interesting that Fleur decided to go to London after ending the madness that had been the Triwizard Tournament and decided to forget all about her plans for finding someone in France, to conquer him.

She got an internship at Gringotts Bank, as Bill's assistant and it did not take long to realize that what she felt wasn't a simple crush. There was something in Bill that made her feel different, that made her fall in love and that was not very Fleur-ish.

From the beginning of her internship as his assistant, she saw signs that told her she needed to quit and forget him. First, she discovered he had returned to live with his parents, that he had six siblings - all redheads! - his mother was overprotective and his surname was worthless. She thought of returning to France immediately and marry Claude Blanc, a family friend who had been courting her since she was sixteen, but as she was about to sign the resignation papers, Bill had smiled from behind a desk and Fleur melted in his charm.

Besides, how could she quit when Bill had offered to help her with her English.

Then she discovered that Bill was extremely adventurous and that being always neat and clean was not part of his priorities. He could spend a week trapped in the mountains without grooming. His clothes left much to be desired and she hadn't heard him speak of any plan to get rid of what she thought was a horrible way to wear his hair.

Fleur did not know if she could give in on all those things —or any of them, for that matter — but on the day of her birthday, when she had been working for a month in Gringotts, Bill had hugged her. And his arms had felt strong, she breathed in a masculine scent that made her stammer and tremble. Definitely, not the neatest person but that didn't mean no sense of hygiene. To be honest she had to admit that manly scent inspired her with courage and daring. She tried to convince herself that someday she would cut his hair while he was off guard and would make those worn, dragon hide boots magically disappear.

Then, she noticed that Bill could never be French. It sounded strange when she said it out loud, but she had hoped to see in him something of France. But no, he was all an English wizard, one of those who were dependent on his family, who didn't eat crepes for breakfast and definitely did not like coffee. Fleur tried to convince herself that he unquestionably was not for her, that it was best for her to get out of this bad-weather-country because, without a doubt, the obsession she had with Bill Weasley wasn't healthy. But every time she was going to do something to get out, Bill appeared with a perfect smile and telling an unsophisticated story about his adventures, his family or his time in Hogwarts. Stories that if she had heard from someone else she probably wouldn't care for, but coming from Bill were interesting. He marveled her.

"My mother grounded us for three weeks but was totally worth it," commented Bill gleefully one day at lunch. They had decided to eat together because there was too much work to return to their homes "I've never thought we could suspend Ron seven meters above the ground."

She listened to him amazed, the way the man usually looked at her made her incredibly happy and at that exact moment, she realized she had broken every rule. She was in love with the only man who wasn't affected by her veela blood and it was frustrating. She started to be less subtle about her intentions, she tried the hypnotic looks her grandmother taught her, the attractive smiles she always used and the rhythmical and sometimes suggestive walks, but nothing worked.

She didn't know what else to do, she was beautiful, smart, she listened to him, she laughed at his jokes and she helped with personal tasks. What did Bill expect from her? To declare her love in the middle of the office?!

She'd never been a coward, she'd always been someone who acts.

"Bill," Fleur called risking the greatest shame of her life "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure," smiled Bill as he took his sight off of a casket he was working on "Anything."

Fleur was unnaturally tense, maybe she should have thought a little bit more on what she was going to say because Bill was there looking at her and she panicked. "Why don't you 'ave a girlfriend?" she asked abruptly and her cheeks went red. Bill's eyes went wide and a really awkward silence filled the office. "Sorry, you don't 'ave to answer! Eet was too personal, I am really sorry, Bill, just forget what I said."

She was rambling, she never rambled.

"Calm down," Bill told her regaining his composure. "It was just an unexpected question, but I don't mind," he assured her. "I guess it's for the same reason you don't have a boyfriend, there's not much time for anything, we are locked in this office almost all day or in houses breaking curses."

It was logical and it was true. Bill worked long shifts at Gringotts and despite being a secret from others, she knew he did side work for the Order of the Phoenix. Dumbledore had tried to include her, but Bill insisted she worked more in Gringotts before being accepted into the secret society.

"You are right," Fleur finally said, " You are 'ere all ze time and zere are mostly men and goblins 'ere."

"And you," laughed Bill "You're definitely not a man nor a goblin, thank Merlin."

"Well, yes, me" Fleur had a moment of hesitation then she blurted out her thoughts "And would you date me?"


Fleur saw Bill's shocked expression. She felt ashamed and totally humiliated. Again, why did she ask that? She needed to go anywhere but where Bill was, she needed a resignation form and to sign it as soon as possible, she needed to go back to France, try to forget the only man who didn't feel her veela attraction, the only man who could give her a panic attack. Maybe Bill was gay.

"I don't know what 'appen to me today, I am absolument dément, C'est trop bête, please forget eet" begged the witch babbling uncontrollably. Bill was staring at her with an unreadable face and she couldn't maintain eye contact, she needed to go. "I zink I better go to look for zee reports of zis week."

She took some papers - she would see what she had grabbed later - and hurried to the door, but when she was opening it, Bill grabbed the sleeve of her robe to stop her.

"Fleur, wait" he pleaded "don't leave."

She turned around and they were both looking at each other. She was blushing like a teenager and he looked as if he wanted to say something but couldn't. Bill was still touching her sleeve and Fleur could feel the energy through his touch, it was better than magic, she felt safe. She didn't feel the need to have everything under control as she was used to. Bill's touch gave her peace, she wasn't panicked or confused, she felt good.

But Bill was still there, saying nothing. Why hadn't her grandmother her for this? Why had she decided to break all her sacred rules? Why wasn't Bill French?

"Look, Bill, I am really, really sorry."

He was still watching her carefully, analyzing her. She could count his freckles on his face and Fleur was about to run away.

"Don't be," finally voiced Bill and Fleur wasn't sure of what he meant nor did she dare to ask, so Bill repeated, "Don't be sorry, just ask me again if I would date you."

Fleur was speechless and wanted to take a portkey to France as soon as possible, but Bill was there still holding her sleeve. He had asked Fleur to repeat herself like the first time had not been humiliating enough. She had never ever asked before, normally men would line up to ask her out.

But Bill was not like others and even if she was scared, she liked it.

"Would you date me?" asked the witch completely terrified.

"Sure," answered the redhead "Just don't expect me to cut my hair."

She could breathe again, Bill was there smiling at her and in an uncharacteristically forward move, she came close to him and give him a short kiss. It was less than a second, her lips barely touched his, but it was enough for Bill to understand, that she gave a damn about his hair.