#Shell Cottage

[cassidyjaneart]

Shell Cottage

[captainsophiestark]

Slow Dancing In A Burning Room

Bill Weasley x Reader

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Written for my personal fic writing challenge for 2024, Sophie's Year of Fic! Featuring a new fic every Friday, all year long :)

Fandom: Harry Potter

Summary: Bill Weasley and his new wife have their wedding reception interrupted by Death Eaters and news of the Ministry falling. Things look bleak when they escape to Shell Cottage, but they find a way to keep each other going.

Word Count: 1,015

Category: Angst, Fluff

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

Weddings were supposed to be happy. They were supposed to be joyful celebrations, with all the people who mattered most. Even in the midst of a brewing war, I thought Bill and I would get that. One night of a break before returning our attention to all the terrible things going on in the world.

I guess I should've known better.

One minute, I was twirling across the dancefloor in the arms of my new husband, sharing a smile as the rest of the world faded away. In that moment, despite everything going on outside of our wedding, the world felt perfect.

The next minute, a glowing lynx had burst through the ceiling and into the middle of the dancefloor, announcing the fall of the Ministry of Magic and the death of the Minister along with it. The reception descended into chaos, people screaming and running as the protective enchantments around the giant tent fell one by one. It had been absolute chaos, and I barley remembered Bill grabbing my hand and getting us both out of there as the Death Eaters arrived.

Now, I sat on the sofa in Shell Cottage, where we were supposed to start our honeymoon. The place had glowed with warmth and coziness the first time we'd visited, but now it seemed all too dark, cold, and deserted.

"I just let my dad know we're alright," Bill said, coming back into the living room. He'd stepped outside to send a Patronus to his dad, to make sure the family wouldn't worry about us. "Hopefully we'll hear back from him soon."

I nodded, a little numbly, as my new husband crossed the room and waved his wand to start a fire in the fireplace. Once he'd finished, he came to sit next to me on the couch. We both stayed there for a few long moments, shoulder to shoulder and staring into the flames. I have no idea how long we would've stayed there on our own, but another glowing Patronus shot into the room not much later, this one the familiar shape of a weasel.

Bill's dad's voice came from the Patronus to tell us the rest of the family was safe, and that they'd be in touch when they could. A bit of the weight lifted off my chest, but a lot of it still remained. As the light of the Patronus and Arthur's voice faded, the darkness crept back in, despite the fire.

"Y/N?" I looked up to see Bill's concerned face. "Love, you're crying."

I raised a hand to my cheek to find he was right. Tears were streaming down my face, and the second I was forced to recognize it, a dam broke inside me.

I fell forward into Bill's chest as I sobbed, and he wrapped his arms around me. He held me tight, rubbing one hand soothingly up and down my back.

"It's going to be alright," he muttered into my hair, his own voice miraculously calm. I just cried harder.

"How can you say that, Bill?" I wailed. "We almost got killed at our own wedding, and now the Ministry has completely fallen. How can you possibly say that we're going to make it through this alright?"

He took a deep, shaky breath, then gently pulled me back from him enough that he could look me in the eye. His eyes shone and his eyebrows were furrowed, mirroring the distress I felt. But there was a grim set to the line of his mouth that signaled a quiet, unbreakable determination.

"We will make it through this," he promised. He gripped my shoulders a little tighter, leaning in until we were almost nose to nose. "We will get to our happy ending, no matter what."

I laughed a little through the tears, Bill's absolute conviction so ridiculous it brought a smile to my face.

"How can you be so sure?" I asked. He grinned.

"Because it's us. We just got married. That means we're a team, for the rest of our lives, against anything else the world wants to throw at us. And I happen to know that we make a fantastic team. I personally pity anyone who bets against us."

I giggled again, leaning into Bill as he leaned into me. No one else in the world could've lifted my spirits in this moment, other than the man sitting beside me. Which, of course, was no small part of the reason I'd married him.

"Come on," Bill said after a minute, standing and holding out his hand to me. "I believe we were in the middle of something before those bastards crashed our wedding."

I shook my head, still smiling anyway as I took his hand and he pulled me to my feet. Still in my wedding dress, and with Bill still in his suit, we came together in the middle of the living room in Shell Cottage to finish the slow dance that had been interrupted. His arms wrapped tightly around me and I rested my head on his chest while the last of the tears dried on my face.

"You're right," I mumbled, my voice barely loud enough for him to hear. "You're right, we will get through this. And I'll personally make sure anyone who tries to hurt us comes to regret it."

Bill huffed a laugh and tightened his arms around me.

"I have absolutely no doubts about that."

I pulled back to smile into the face of the man I loved, and after a moment, he leaned in and kissed me. We stayed like that for a long time, swaying in the middle of our living room, kissing occasionally, but mostly just enjoying the fact that we were still here, together and whole, after everything that had happened.

In the warm, flickering glow of the firelight, the darkness of the cottage started to regain its cozy feeling, and a tiny spark of joy for the thought of the future rekindled itself in my chest.

****************

Everything Taglist: @rosecentury @kmc1989

Harry Potter Taglist: @valkyriepirate

[fleurmionefridays]

Fleurmione Fridays: April 2024 Shell Cottage

A quarterly rec list curated by the 18+ fleurmione discord server. Inspired by hpsaffics #wlw wednesday.

All fics are complete and listed longest to shortest.

Witnessed here in Time and Blood by whistle.the.silver [M | 190.5k]

When Shell Cottage receives a motley group, Fleur and Bill do their best to ensure their safety. In the weeks that follow, wounds are healed and plans are concocted. Fleur and Hermione find themselves coming to a new understanding of one another.

Kissing, It Saves Souls by @k-starr-ent-ceo [E | 45.5k]

Have you ever gone to a wedding, then have to quickly save everyone there by getting them to leave, so you fake an affair with the bride (who subsequently is no longer a bride), then have to keep saving people, by kissing said woman, then realise you're in love? No? Me neither, but Hermione did. This is a tale about two women falling in love, then falling into an adventure.

I Get Along Without You Very Well by @lipzlipzlipz. [M | 32k]

Don’t get her hopes up. Don’t let anyone in. Don’t risk her heart. These weren’t the only lessons the tournament year taught her, but they were the hardest and Fleur Delacour learned them well. Until a girl with honey-brown eyes made her want to forget every one of them.

Lost & Found by lady_wordsalot. [M | 13k]

Hermione gets lost in the Forbidden Forest on a camping trip with her husband, Ron. Weeks later she stumbles onto Shell Cottage and its owner, Fleur.

willow by @rachelc978, from her one shot collection evermore. [M | 8k]

“Wait for the signal and I’ll meet you after dark/Show me the places where the others gave you scars” - willow, Taylor Swift

A single word by @mushroom-grey-scale [T | 5k]

Despite months of living in the same house, there were only a small amount of things Bill could do to calm a veela's temper.

Stirring Dull Roots with Spring Rain by @sleepingontheway [G | 3k]

Hermione stays with Bill and Fleur. Well, she stays at Shell Cottage. Where is Bill all the time, anyway?

[riuriu]

Marianne Faithfulls iconic shell cottage captured by Anna Sui (via her instagram)

[gravelyordinary]

moodboard for a lunarry fic i'm currently writing that's based off of the song 'Forget Her' by Jeff Buckley

[dragoneyes618]

Dean and Luna's time together at Shell Cottage is underrated.

Dean, recovering from months on the run and from seeing the rest of the group he was with murdered.

Luna, recovering from months in the Malfoys' basement and worried about her father.

I don't know....something.

[saffrongin]

It's a story about getting lost and finding yourself again. And the power of hope and unconditional love.

It's layered with Order's politics, vengeance, friendships and relationships, despair, love in the unlikeliest of places, learning to accept love and understand that everyone is deserving of being loved. It's about how one grand thing can affect everyone in vastly different ways.

It's slow, and focuses on Hermione's journey towards accepting who she is, and knowing that she'll be okay.

[voldemorts-tap-shoes]

For era #2 (1989/evermore) of @cruelsummer-ficfest 💕

✨ Gold Rush ✨

My mind turns your life into folklore

I can't dare to dream about you anymore

~

“There’s something I want to talk to you about.”

“Anything you want.”

“You say that every day.”

“It’s true every day. I’m all yours. So what’s on the agenda?”

“You and Lavender.”

“Ugh. Pass.”

“Ron.”

“Why don’t I just throw myself off a bluff into the ocean instead?”

“Ron.”

“Okay, okay. What about me and Lavender?”

“Well, I suppose it’s more so about me and Lavender…”

“Were you snogging her, too?”

“Oh, for Merlin’s sake. I’m going to push you off a bluff into the ocean.”

“Honestly, Hermione, out with it, then. What about me and you and Lavender?”

“I never apologized to you.”

“You did, actually, about a hundred times.”

“For the birds, yes. Not for the rest of it.”

“I think the rest of it was more my doing, so…”

“I should’ve been more clear about my intentions for Slughorn’s Christmas party. And about my feelings for you in general.”

“You really don’t have to apologize for that.”

“I do. You’ve said plenty of sorry’s over the past few weeks, and I owe you some, too. Maybe if I had told you how I felt last year, we wouldn’t have wasted so much time.”

“If you’d told me how you felt, I probably would have snogged you right there in the greenhouse, and we’d have both wound up in detention. Besides, you could say that about a lot of things in the past year—hell, the past few years—but that doesn’t make it your fault that we missed out on that time.”

“I should’ve fought for you.”

“Fought for me? You make it sound like I’m the last of Mum’s Christmas biscuits around nine hungry Weasleys.”

“Well, that’s sort of how it felt last year, with everybody wondering what it would be like to love you.”

“Who’s everybody?”

“Okay, maybe not everyone. But Lavender and I, obviously. Hannah Abbott and Susan Bones both thought you were quite fit. And I do believe Anthony Goldstein would have been interested if you were so inclined.”

“Huh. Always wondered why he wanted my help with homework instead of yours. Suppose Wingardium Leviosa wasn’t the only one of my charms that caught his eye.”

“You are so lame. Why do I love you, again?”

“You just said it, I’m good with my wand.”

“Anyway…I didn’t like the Ron Weasley gold rush that seemed to be taking place. Selfishly, I hated the idea that I was going to have to compete for your attention.”

“You had it already, you know.”

“Until I didn’t. I didn’t make it clear that my hat was in the ring, and when Lavender kissed you, I folded. You had every right to carry on with her, even though I hated every second of it. I always wondered what it must be like to grow up that beautiful, and then she had you, too…”

“Hermione—”

“I was jealous, and I acted foolishly, and I took you for granted. You had to nearly die for me to see how horrible I was to you. So I’m sorry.”

“Apology still not necessary, but accepted.”

“Thank you.”

“For what it’s worth? You wouldn’t have had to fight that hard, if you had. It’s always been you. No contest.”

“For me, too. No contest.”

“But…do you ever think maybe it’s a good thing I had that little detour with Lavender?”

“You know, the wind really is quite strong out here on the coast. I could make your death look like an accident.”

“I’m serious. We don’t know what would have happened if you and I got together sooner. I do know we’re here now. I wouldn’t trade the path we took, because I wouldn’t want to end up somewhere else.”

“That’s actually very sweet.”

“Always the—”

“—tone of surprise, yes, yes, I know. I should stop being surprised by you by now, but it keeps things exciting, doesn’t it?”

“Good save.”

“Speaking of surprises, do you think Harry realizes anything has changed between us?”

“Hermione, the man has got more important things to think about than if you and I have finally got our heads out of our arses. We’re trying to save the world here.”

“So definitely yes?”

“Definitely yes.”

“I suppose it’s not exactly subtle that you’ve been sleeping in my room every night.”

“We don’t sleep every night…”

“That’s beside the point.”

“I think that’s exactly the point, and—are you blushing?”

“We should get back, Fleur will have dinner on soon.”

“I can’t believe you’re blushing. Especially after last night…”

“Ronald!”

“Wow, two weeks together, and you’re already embarrassed of our relationship. That cliff is looking better and better every minute.”

“You’re insufferable.”

“And yet, you love me.”

“Alas. Yes, I do. And you love me.”

“Yep. I reckon you’re stuck with me now.”

~

And the coastal town

We wandered 'round had never

Seen a love as pure as it

[domhnallgleesonhaven]

Bill 🪄

[wizarddogs]

Arrival at Shell Cottage

[miss-bronte]

It's Saturday and that means there's a new episode of our German Marauders podcast ‘Rumtreiber Radio’. Things get wild in episode 17. And confusing. But also a bit funny. We talk about the Fidelius charm, which plays an important role in October 1981, and take a closer look at the spell. We not only talk about fan theories, but also plotholes and try to understand it all ... which is difficult.

[delumineight]

die yours

so remember when i told you all i love shell cottage? yeah well here’s my second published fic about it. i tried to stay realistic and close to canon with it.

RATED T, GRAPHIC DEPICTIONS OF VIOLENCE, (brief, i mean very brief) MENTIONS OF RAPE/NON-CON

— summary :

Love may not have even been the word. It was so commonly used, but she felt as if what she had with Ron was something new. Something exclusive to them that nobody else had ever felt before, something deeper and more important.

[adenei]

Babe

Second Submission for Era 3 of @cruelsummer-ficfest

Ship: Romione

Song: Babe (Red)

Read on Ao3

How to make a break-up song about cheating into a fic that's not even remotely about that? Challenge accepted.

Big mistake, you broke the sweetest promise that you never should have made.

He couldn’t protect her. Couldn’t protect her. 

He promised. And yet there she was, lifeless in his arms as he ran across the sand toward the cottage, desperate to help her. Desperate to save her. 

She can’t be dead. Please don’t let her be dead. Please.

Ron watches in the doorway of the small guest bedroom as Fleur performs diagnostic spells over Hermione’s body. Tremors cause her limp form to shake uncontrollably every now and then. It’s the only sign that she’s alive. 

Fleur gives nothing away as she continues to work. Bill’s eyes only knit with growing concern. At one point, Ron is vaguely aware of Fleur leaning over and whispering something to Bill. But he doesn’t take his eyes off Hermione. Not for one second. Because he’s afraid that if he does, the small yet rhythmic rise and fall of her chest will cease, and then he’ll never be able to forgive himself.

Then, Bill is by his side, gesturing to the hall behind him. 

No. He can’t leave her. He won’t leave her. He begs his older brother to let him stay. Yet, somehow, he’s being ushered down the stairs to wait. 

I’m here on the kitchen floor, you call but I won’t hear it.

“Ron. Ron!” Bill calls to him as he cradles his head in his hands, rocking back and forth, unable to get the sound of her screams out of his mind.

This is why he needs to be with her. Only the sight of her will calm the chaos in his head; only her touch can prevent him from reliving the scene over and over and over again.

“Ron,” Bill says again, now crouching down in front of him. 

The third time his name sounds, he snaps to attention. “What’s wrong? Is Hermione okay? Bill, tell me she’s okay. I can’t lose her. I can’t—”

Bill’s hands on his shoulders stop him. “I’m not going to lie to you and tell you she’s fine, but she’s alive. Fleur thinks you got her here just in time. She’s done everything she can to combat the pain and the internal injuries, but we won’t know if her mind is still intact until she wakes up.”

“Fuck.” Ron presses the heel of his palms against his eyes, forcing the unshed tears to stay put.

He knows what the Cruciatus is capable of. He remembers seeing Neville’s parents. Pure, unadulterated terror sweeps through him, paralyzing his limbs and his thoughts as the thought of life without her takes hold.

No, he can’t think like that.

“You can go see her now if you want. She’s resting.”

Ron nods, his body feels like jelly as he tries to stand.

“Maybe you should—”

“No.” He needs to be with her.

You really blew this. We ain’t gettin’ through this one.

Twenty four hours pass and Hermione still hasn’t woken. Ron remains at her bedside, leaving only when absolutely necessary. He holds her hand, rests his head against her arm and runs through countless scenarios of how things could have been different.

If only he’d tried harder to stop Harry from saying the name. What if Bellatrix had taken him instead? How could they have concealed the sword better? The questions never end.

He pays little attention to the people who come in and out, checking on Hermione, asking him how he’s doing, bringing him something to eat. 

Until Luna brings in another meal he’ll barely touch.

When she’s on her way out the door, she turns back and offers a suggestion. “Have you tried talking to her?” Ron looks up at her, eyes blank as he shakes his head.

“It might help.” With a smile and a shrug, Luna bounces out of the room on her tiptoes.

It takes Ron a while to try Luna’s idea. He doesn’t know where to begin as the words continuously play on repeat in his mind. Finally, he’s able to stop them for a moment, if only to verbalize an apology.

“I’m so sorry,” he croaks out. “I couldn’t stop her from hurting you. I couldn’t get out of that damn cellar. I tried, Hermione. Believe me, I tried.”

He looks down at his hands, still raw, but scabbing over from clawing and punching at the wall. Reminders of how desperate he was to try and break free.

[His] lips on your neck, I can’t unsee it.

“Th-thank Merlin for Dobby. I don’t know how the elf knew, but he saved us. He saved all of us. But I’m so scared I got to you too late. Fleur says you’ll be okay, but she didn’t see you lying there. She didn’t see Greyback’s eyes when he looked at you. Fuck, no, I can’t unsee it. I can’t stop thinking about what he was going to do to you. Please, Hermione, please be okay. I can’t do this without you.”

He leans over and kisses her hand before squeezing it with his own. 

“Please,” he whispers. “There’s so much more I want to say to you, but I want you to be awake. I need you to be awake.” 

Ron looks at her face, and still nothing, though he’s not surprised. He’s ready to give up and call Luna’s plan mental, but then he decides to try one more time. Part of him knows it’s no use, so he takes a chance to say something he’s nowhere near ready to say to her face. Not until he knows she feels the same way.

“I—I always used to think it was gross when Mum and Dad would call each other by these ridiculous pet names. It was even so weird when I’d hear Fleur call Bill ‘darling.’ Not—not because I was jealous or anything. I wasn’t! But now, now I get it. And I just—I want that for us. Like babe or something, you know? Not that it—it doesn’t have to be that, but…nevermind. It’s not like you can hear me anyway. What a stupid idea.”

As he rambles, he stares at her hand, embarrassed for even saying it all out loud. He should have silenced the room first. He’ll never hear the end of it if someone overheard as they walked by.

Slumping back in the chair, Ron covers his face with his hands. He refuses to believe he’s losing her, but at the same time he can’t help but feel as though she’s slipping through his fingers. But then he hears the softest moan come from her bed. His head snaps up as his hands grasp the arms of the wooden chair, catching his weight before he falls over from the whiplash.

Her eyes flutter open as she grimaces in pain. It’s a fucking miracle.

“R-Ron?” Her voice is hoarse and  breathy, but he’s sure he hears it.

“I’m here. I’m right here.” His hands find hers. “We made it. We’re safe.”

“Where are we?” Each word is labored but she pushes through it anyway.

“Shell Cottage. Bill and Fleur’s place.”

“How…?”

Ron recounts the entire tale and Hermione listens with rapt attention. When he gets to the end, he pauses. His mind is once again fresh with the shrieks and cackles of Bellatrix as Hermione screams in pain.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

What about your promises, promises, promises, no.

“It’s not your fault.”

“Yes, it is! I—I made a promise.”

Hermione’s face scrunches in confusion. “To who?”

“To you. Well, to me. I swore I’d do whatever it took to protect you and—and I couldn’t. I couldn’t protect you from her and now you’re here.”

“Yes. I’m here. Ron, I should be dead. Worse, maybe because of Greyback.” She shakes her head. “But you saved me. You could have left me in the wreckage of that chandelier but you refused to leave without me.”

“Yeah, but—”

“Stop. Please,” she begs. “I know you’re trying to make up for—for leaving. Don’t. We’re past that. You’re here now. That’s what matters. You’re what matters.”

His eyes meet hers and both plead the other to understand. Ron feels as though he’s about to burst. They’ve had so many second chances over the years and with the war at its height, he can’t risk silence any longer. 

“Hermione, I—”

Though it looks as though it takes all her energy, she lifts her hand to touch his face. Tears are in her eyes when she cuts him off. “I know. Me too.”

Ron turns his head, nuzzling into her hand and kisses her palm before he loses his nerve. If she won’t let him tell her how he feels, he can at least try to show her. Though he doesn’t want to leave her, he promised Bill and Fleur he’d tell them as soon as she woke up.

“I should get Fleur so she can see how you’re doing.” He stands reluctantly and heads for the door.

But Hermione stops him before he leaves. “Ron?”

“Yeah?”

“I, um, I don’t mind ‘babe.’” Her cheeks are bright red as she tries to hide a tiny smile by tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

“Oh. Uh, noted.”

He scrambles out the door as his own face burns and his ears have no doubt turned pink. He hadn’t realized—he thought she’d been asleep. She hadn’t shown any signs of stirring. But maybe it was better now that that was in the open. Maybe she truly does understand how he feels now.

And he hopes upon hope that the end is near, that they can finally be free and happy, and that this is one of the last times the war will risk their lives.

So they can be happy. So they can finally have the chance to call each other ‘babe.’

This is the last time, this is the last time.

a/n: I'm still not over using 'babe' as a pet name for these two.

[braveclementine]

Chapter 21

Warnings: None. However, future chapters will contain sexual content so readers that are under the age of 18 may have to skip those chapters (Please keep note of the warnings).

Copyright: I do not own any Wizarding World characters that J.K. Rowling wrote. I do however own Elizabeth Kane (main character) and Trang Nyguen (best friend). There should be no use of these two names without my permission. I also do not condone any copying of this.

𝕴 𝖘𝖙𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖜𝖎𝖙𝖍 my feet in the sea, looking out at the storm. March had slowly melted in April and April showers bring May flowers so the wind bustled around me, blowing my dress out in front of me. Remus was not asleep, though he was quiet in my arms, looking at the storm with me. 

Trang was not with me for once, staying up at the house. She said I was crazy for coming out here at this time, but I couldn't stay inside. I knew dad was coming tonight, to tell everyone that his son had been born. 

That my brother had been born. 

It was weird, that this boy who I would not meet until his father was dead, would be the brother I got to recognize first, before my blood one. 

I was to melancholy to stay with them. So I stayed outside, telling Remus a story. 

In the depths there is a man lost in time. 

He has opened the wrong doors. Chosen the wrong paths. 

Wandered farther than he should have. 

He is looking for someone. Something. Someone. He does not remember who the someone is, doe snot have the ability, here in the depths where time is fragile, to grasp the thoughts and memories and hold on to them, to sort through them to recall more than glimpses. 

Sometimes he stops and in the stopping the memory grows clear enough for him to see her face, or pieces of it. But the clarity motivates him to continue and then the pieces fall apart again and he walks on not knowing for whom or what it is he walks. 

He only knows he has not reached it yet. 

Reached her yet. 

Who? He looks toward the sky that is hidden from him by rock and earth and stories. No one answers his question. There is a dripping he mistakes for water, but no other sound. Then the question is forgotten again. 

He walks down crumbling stairs and trips over tangled roots. He has long since passed by the last of the rooms with their doors and their locks, the places where the stories are content to remain on their shelves. 

He has untangled himself from vines blossoming with story-filled flowers. He has traversed piles of abandoned teacups with text baked into their crackled glaze. He has walked through puddles of ink and left footprints that formed stories in his wake that he did not turn around to read. 

Now he travels through tunnels with no light at their ends, feeling his way along unseen walls until he finds himself someplace somewhere sometime else. 

He passes over broken bridges and under crumbling towers. 

He walks over bones he mistakes for dust and nothingness he mistakes for bones. 

His once-fine shoes are worn. He abandoned his coat some time ago. 

He does not remember the coat with its multitude of buttons. The coat, if coats could remember such things, would remember him but by the time they are reunited the coat will belong to someone else. 

On clear days memories focus in his mind in scattered words and images. His name. The night sky. A room with red velvet drapery. A door. His father. Books, hundreds and thousands of books. A single book in her hand. Her eyes. Her hair. The tips of her fingers. 

But most of the memories are stories. Pieces of them. Blind wanderers and star-crossed lovers, grand adventures and hidden treasures. Mad kings and cryptic witches. 

The things he has seen and heard with his own eyes and ears mix with tales he has read or heard with his own eyes and ears. They are inseparable down here. 

There are not many clear days. Clear nights. 

There is no way to tell the difference here in the depths. 

Night or day. Fact or fiction. Real or imagined. 

Sometimes he feels he has lost his own story. Fallen out of its pages and landed here, in between, but he remains in his story. He cannot leave it no matter how he tries. 

The man lost in time walks along the shore of the sea and does not look up to see the lack of stars. he wanders through empty cities of honey and bone, down streets that once range with music and laughter. He lingers in abandoned temples, lighting candles for forgotten gods and running his fingers over the fossils of unaccepted offerings. He sleeps in beds that no one has dreamed upon in centuries and his own sleep is deep, his dreams as unfathomable as his waking hours. 

"Elizabeth!" 

"At first the bees watched him. Followed him while he walked and hovered while he slept. They thought he might be someone else. 

He is just a boy.  A man. Something in between. 

Now the bees ignore him. They go about their own business. They decided that one man out of his depth is no cause for alarm but even the bees are wrong from time to time. 

"Elizabeth!" 

This time I heard the shout, the first I thought an imagination or just a strange production of the wind. 

It's my fathers' voice. 

I close my eyes while Remus stirs, looking over my shoulder. 

I heard footsteps step into the water and that is when I finally turn around to face my father for the first time in months. 

Even the state of me being pregnant does not take the joy out of his eyes or the colour from his cheeks. He looked younger than I had seen him, at least since I had been a young girl myself. 

"It's a boy!" He said, his voice full of the same joy as his eyes. 

"I know." I said with a smile that I could make reach my eyes, no matter how hard I tried. "I saw. Teddy, it's a wonderful name dad. I am so happy for you." 

"You'll be the Godmother of course?" He asked, as though there was no other choice. 

"Really?" I asked. This time, the astonished smile did manage to reach my eyes. 

"Of course!" He exclaimed, looking surprised that I was surprised. "Who else would I choose?" 

I just shrugged with a smile, feeling a drop of happiness warm my insides. "I'm really, really happy for you two dad." I leaned forwards so that I could rest my head against his shoulder, giving him the best hug that I could manage. 

It was then that he sort've snapped out of his own daze. "You're pregnant?!" 

"Twins." I replied lightly. 

Dad hesitated, looking like he wanted to say something, but also not wanting to say something. When I met his eyes though, I saw the disappointment there, which punched me in the gut so hard that I actually put a hand to my stomach as though I could soothe it. 

"That's. . . that's great sweetheart." 

We stood there silently on the beach, both of us avoiding each others' eyes. I swallowed back my tears, knowing that this could very well be one of my last times with him. So I said the only thing I could say to save the situation. 

"They might not be Severus'." 

I watched his expression furrow with confusion, before understanding, and finally his eyes filled with pity. "Oh, Elizabeth." 

I pushed my hate far, far down for my dad's reaction. I refused to let any other emotions besides positive ones surround my last times with my father. Even if they were fake for me, I would not let my father die with the idea that our last interaction was negative. 

Though, of course, he would not die at all since I would save his life. 

"You should get back to Tonks and Teddy dad." I whispered. "They need you." 

"E-" 

"I love you." I said firmly, kissing his cheek. "Get back to your son. I should put my own down for sleep." 

It was so weird, referring to the little boy as 'his son' instead of 'my brother' or even just calling him 'Teddy'. I knew then that I was not hiding my feelings as well as I had hoped. Dad would see right through me, just as he always did. 

Just like he always would. 

"Elizabeth just wait a minute." Dad said, reaching out to grab my elbow, since both hands were occupied with Remus. 

I turned back to him, looking into his warm, brown eyes. 

He pulled me into a full hug this time, his arms wrapped strongly, safely around me. I vowed right then and there that this would not be the last hug my father would give me. I would make sure to get another hug, and another. I would keep him alive, even if it cost Tonks and Fred. No matter what, I would keep my father. 

Even if it cost me myself. 

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

"𝕿𝖍𝖆𝖓𝖐 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖘𝖔 much Bill. And you, Fleur. We're sorry we stayed so long, but it was just beautiful." I said as Trang and I stood in their front yard, getting ready to disparate back to mountains outside of Hogsmeade. 

"I actually wish you two could stay longer." Bill chuckled, hugging Trang first, and then me. "It's been nice, having company." 

"Yes, we shall miss you both." Fleur said, hugging both of us as well, also kissing Remus on the forehead. He giggled, kicking his feet, reaching for her. "Aww." Fleur cooed to him, taking him from my arms to give him one final hug. The two of them had bonded greatly over the entire month we'd been here, and I knew they'd miss each other. I would make sure to reunite them again. 

I knew that next week, Harry, Ron, and Hermione would take off for Gringotts. I was looking forwards to hearing about it- in the newspapers. 

"We should go now." Trang said softly. 

Fleur kissed Remus a bunch of times, making the baby giggle, before handing him back to me. Trang and I disapparated on our own without another word and appeared several feet apart from each other. 

Trang and I stared at our stuff and Remus for a moment, wondering just exactly how we were supposed to get back to Hogwarts in broad daylight, when a figure came around the corner, stopping dead at the sight of us. 

All three of our wands' were raised in seconds before recognizing each other. "Severus." I sighed happily, lowering my wand. 

Severus rolled his eyes. "You are far to trusting Elizabeth. Can you at least attempt to let me ask you a question and you ask me one?" 

I huffed, "What kind of kids am I having?" 

"Twins. To easy." Severus responded. 

I rolled my eyes again and then became a cat, which was a slight mistake because Remus was suddenly falling through thin air, as I could not hold him as a cat. 

Severus lunged, falling on his stomach as he caught our son and I turned human again, laying on my side. "I think that answered everything." I said lightly, though my heart was pounding. Remus however, just giggled, waving his hands excitedly. I think he liked it. 

"Merlin, Elizabeth." Severus said weakly, rolling over onto his stomach, setting our son down on his chest. He glanced over at Trang. "I suppose you're fine." 

"Gee, thanks." Trang rolled her eyes, but smirked to herself. 

"Uh, back to the castle?" I asked weakly. "Sorry." 

Severus huffed, kissing the top of my head. I turned back into a black cat, hopping into Severus deep pockets. A second later, a pocket watch was placed beside me, engraved with Vietnamese artwork. I rolled my eyes, settling my paws on the metal as though it would keep Trang safer. 

Severus moved quickly and I could hear the townspeople talking about their day to day lives in hushed whispers. I supposed that had to mean he'd hidden our luggage and Remus in his other pocket or somewhere. 

He made a stop after about twenty minutes, pulling the watch out. I heard him tell Trang that wherever we were was the safest place for Trang, then he was walking again. 

After another ten minutes or so, he was reaching into the pocket again, lifting me out. He placed me up on his shoulder and I could see that Remus was fast asleep in his crib now, his thumb in his mouth, his owl stuffed animal tucked against him. 

I turned human, pulling Severus down onto the bed at the surprise of me transforming. 

"I've missed you." He murmured, kissing me on the cheek. 

"I've missed you too." I said with a small smile. "How was uh, your visit with him?" 

He frowned. "I wish I had a forewarning about that. My heart leapt, thinking of you still being here." 

"Hence, why we left." I said lightly, cupping his face. "Besides, I figured I'd keep as many things the same as possible. This timeline is to important to mess up or screw around with, even with the smallest of changes." 

"I understand." Severus said softly. "I just wish it didn't have to be with me worrying about you all of the time. I don't know what I'd do if I lost you." 

"You're never going to have to find out." I said softly. 

Severus hesitated and then said, "Dobby has not delivered dinner for quite some time. I just. . . Are you. . ." 

I looked away sadly. "I don't really want to talk about it Sev. There wasn't. . . I couldn't do anything. He didn't wear the clothes I made for him and since he didn't. . ." 

"I get it. I'm sorry." He murmured. I looked up at him, wishing I could voice all of my worries aloud. But I couldn't. His life was one of the ones I needed to protect. 

"Anyways." I said quickly, struggling to sit upright. Severus quickly got up, helping me up into a sitting position. "Uh, do you have another elf who I could ask to get some hot wings? I'm craving them again and the spicy food will also help with the pregnancy." 

"Yeah, of course." Severus murmured. "I'll be right back." 

He left the room and I wiped at my eyes quickly as I tried to take in all of my emotions at once. I did deep breath exercises until I heard the door open again, the smell of spicy chicken wings intruding my senses. My mouth started to water immediately and the corner of my mouth lifted up into a smile. 

He put the plate down for me on a wooden TV tray (although he just called it a sick bed dinner table) and then asked if I needed anything else. 

"Can you just sit with me for a little bit?" I asked softly. "I'm really sorry I'm in such a depressed state. Maybe it's the pregnancy." 

Severus chuckled a little. "You're actually sorry for being down? Elizabeth you can see the future of everyone you love dying, your brother is on the run, your grandfather-in-law through Tonks has been murdered, you're stressed about all your friends, you're pregnant, and you're trying to save the world- your world anyways- all on your own. I'd be worried if you weren't depressed." 

I took a bite of my chicken wing and hummed in satisfaction. "These give me so much happiness though." 

Severus chuckled. "Well, you can have as many as you want." 

I smiled then, a true smile. "I love you Severus." 

He kissed the top of my head. "I love you more." 

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

"𝕴 𝖍𝖆𝖙𝖊 𝖞𝖔𝖚!" The words ripped from my lips as I grasped the bed sheets in pain as another contraction hit. 

"Push." Madam Pomfrey said simply, trying to regain my attention. 

Severus smartly kept his mouth shut, sitting by the bedside, letting me dig my nails into his hand. 

"I can see his or her head, you need to push Miss Kane." Madam Pomfrey said firmly. 

"I am pushing!" I snarled. 

Severus squeezed my hand lightly. 

"There we go." Madam Pomfrey said, unfazed, the pressure dwindling just slightly as the first baby exited me. She took the bloody baby, quickly handing the baby up to me. I could see that it was a little boy, the little bit of hair that he had was black. 

"Oh, Severus." I cooed now, "Look at him." 

"He's beautiful." Severus whispered softly. The baby whimpered, opening his eyes to show that they were a beautiful brown. 

"Headmaster, you should take the baby until the next one is out." Madam Pomfrey said. 

I felt my heart fall at the idea of having to let go of my baby so soon, even to his father. Severus however, seemed to be able to get how I felt because he shook his head. Madam Pomfrey gave him a slightly exasperated look, but focused solely on helping me deliver the second baby. 

"Elijah." I gasped out. 

"What?" Severus asked slightly. 

"Elijah Kingsley Snape." I said again, crying out from another contraction. "We would call him Elijah Kingsley. I just. . . I don't know his name just suddenly popped out." 

"It's a beautiful name." Severus said softly. "Very, well," He chuckled. "Royal." 

It took another thirty minutes for the second child to come out, which were full of Severus encouraging me, me yelling at both him and Madam Pomfrey, and Madam Pomfrey giving me times to push. 

This time, it was a beautiful baby girl that Madam Pomfrey delivered from me. I relaxed into the sheets, sweating and panting, but excited all the same. 

"Alright, let me check their eyes." Madam Pomfrey said, taking both of the babies into her arms, bringing them over to a table she had set up when Severus had rushed to get her. It took only thirty seconds, before she carried both of them over, a smile on her face. "They both have beautiful eyes Miss Kane." 

I smiled, tears coming to my own. "Thank you Madam Pomfrey." I whispered, taking both of the little babies into my arms. 

"Minerva." Severus said so suddenly and confidently that I looked up at the door to see if Professor McGonagall had come in, Madam Pomfrey doing the same. 

"What?" I asked, seeing that she wasn't there. 

"Her name is Minerva. . . how about Trang?" Severus asked hesitantly. "Minerva Trang?" 

"I love it." I whispered, my black cloud that I had been carrying around popping and dissipating as my heart swelled with love. This was the true Severus Snape, the one that I knew and loved. 

Madam Pomfrey was surveying Severus, which I wasn't entirely a fan of. I wanted her to like him of course, but after his name was cleared, not before. I didn't know how much her seeing this side of him would affect the future. Hopefully not by much. 

"Thank you for coming down Madam Pomfrey." Severus said suddenly, looking up at her. "If anyone were to ask why you were up here for so long-" 

"I will say that you were questioning me about the students underground trade to see if I know anything. If someone asks you, I knew nothing." Madam Pomfrey said solidly. 

"Naturally." Severus said and then she left the room, leaving the two of us with Remus and two new, beautiful babies. 

Severus gently sat on the edge of the bed, looking down at the little ones. "They are truly miraculous, Elizabeth." 

"They are, aren't they?" I asked softly, staring at them in awe. Elijah Kingsleys' brown little eyes fluttered sleepily. It seemed that he was already tired from such an exciting event as being born. 

"I'm glad I can change the colours of the cribs." Severus smiled a little, flicking his hand at the new cribs in question, changing one of the blue pads to pink instead. 

I tsked at him. "You really thought both of them were going to be boys?" 

"One can hope." Severus smirked, but softened as he took Minerva into his arms. "She is adorable." 

"She's going to be your favorite, I already know it." I whispered softly, kissing his cheek. "You're going to protect her fiercely." 

"Yes I am." Severus whispered, rocking her. She also had brown eyes, which seemed happy, even for a newborn. "No one will hurt her. Not while I'm around. I promise." 

⬅️➡️

[queenofonions]

A Time to Heal

Summary: Fred and George visit Shell Cottage when they learn Luna has been injured. platonic love fic

The sound of tinkling windchimes alerted Fleur to an arrival at the apparition point outside the wards of Shell Cottage. She passed her wand over her bubbling cauldron for a quick stasis spell and crossed quickly to the window at the side of the house to see who it was. She smiled with relief to see Fred and George sprinting swiftly over the sand and met them at the door before they even had a chance to knock.

Once inside, Fred handed over the package of herbs she had requested. Fleur thanked him with a kiss to both cheeks and quickly returned to her cauldron to lift the stasis spell. Sorting through the herbs, she located the mugwort, measured out the correct amount and added it to the potion. When it began to fizz she lowered the heat and covered the cauldron with a heavy lid; a swirl of her wand set an alarm charm over it to alert her when it was finished brewing.

The twins were silent as they watched her work and when she began setting up several more cauldrons for more potions, they seized the moment to interrupt and cleared their throats at the same time.

It was George that spoke up. "How is she?"

Fleur looked at them and the naked worry on their faces made her heart clench. She went to them and took a hand from them both in hers and squeezed.

"She is recovering well." She smiled gently at how they sagged against each other in instant relief. "I have treated her injuries; not many and not serious," she quickly assured them to forestall the questions she could see them ready to fling at her.

"I am sure she would enjoy a visit from you both. You go in and I'll bring in some tea in a few minutes." She squeezed their hands again, but as they turned away she remembered Luna's current condition and stopped them. "Oh and do not be alarmed by her appearance. The Bruise Balm I have just put together will help them fade once it is ready."

The twins looked at her for a long moment and Fleur was struck by the ferocity gleaming in their eyes. Bill had told her about how deeply his brothers cared for the girl. How they looked on her as not only another sister, but a kindred spirit.

Fred reached into his trouser pocket and pulled out a small round tin with the Wheezes logo emblazoned on the lid. "We have that covered. Our Bruise Removal Paste is ten times better than a Balm. We'll sort her out and leave it with you."

With that they turned toward Luna's room and Fleur let them go to their friend. She ran a hand through her hair and huffed a quiet laugh, then returned to her kitchen to make tea.

Luna sat up against the headboard of the bed, leafing through an old French wizarding magazine Fleur had lent her when she heard a jaunty knock on her door. Her large blue eyes lit with amusement when she recognized the cadence of "Hoggy Hoggy Hogwarts" and called out for the twins to enter.

George entered first, judging by the bandage around his head, but she would have known it was him in any case; she never had any trouble telling the brothers apart. Fred followed, tossing a small tin from hand to hand. She wondered idly if he wished he had three so he could juggle them.

Fred and George were very accomplished jugglers and she'd often found them practicing on the grounds of Hogwarts, tossing various objects between them, often to a large crowd of wide-eyed first years. They'd always start with three and call out for someone to toss them something new until they dropped one. The highest count had been nine before they famously departed the school.

"Good morning," she smiled and lay the magazine on her lap, open to an article about the Lavender Fields of Provence. The colors in the pictures had long faded and the flowers no longer moved as they once did, but there was still a faint scent of lavender that drifted up from the pages that she found very soothing.

The twins greeted her in turn, their voices somber as they took in the wicked purple bruise that spread across her left cheek. Luna could see their eyes zero in on the dark red center at her cheekbone. "It doesn't hurt anymore. Your brother was able to lift the curse and Fleur makes a lovely pain potion that tastes of blackberries. She should share the recipe with Madame Pomfrey; she uses licorice in hers and I'd rather endure a great deal of pain than any amount of licorice."

Luna tilted her head and considered her statement. "Unless I was dying, I suppose. I could endure a bit of licorice in order to stay alive."

The twins nodded in agreement, as they also loathed that particular flavor, then repeated in tandem the one word that had caught both their attention.

"Curse???"

Luna nodded. "Bellatrix Lestrange was wearing a cursed ring when she hit me and it wouldn't stop bleeding until Bill found a way to remove it."

George smiled in genuine admiration. "He's a clever one, our Bill."

Fred held up the tin of paste and waggled it in his fingers. "Clever, yes, but it takes true genius to create such wonders as in our new line of Wheezes Medicinals, the first of which will heal that right up."

Luna took the tin and twisted it open to reveal a creamy yellow paste that smelled of marigolds. She quickly closed the magazine on her lap and set it aside, not wanting to mix the scents. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, letting the warm, citrusy scent permeate her sinuses.

She opened her eyes and found a hand mirror held in front of her face by George, so she dipped two fingers into the paste and applied it to her cheek. The paste sank into her skin and the change was almost immediate. As the bruise healed it shrank in size, changing colors from purple and red to green and blue, then yellow and finally to the smooth healthy pink of freshly healed skin.

Fred frowned at a bit of redness that persisted where the center of the wound had been but supposed that was to be expected from a cursed wound.

Luna patted the spaces on either side of her and invited them to look at the magazine with her. George put the mirror back on the bureau where he had found it, along with the tin of paste and he and Fred happily joined her.

Fleur levitated the tea tray to Luna's room, but paused outside the door when muffled conversation turned suddenly to bright laughter and hearty chuckles. The door was slightly ajar, so she carefully peeked around it and smiled at what she saw.

Fred and George pointed at the pictures in the old magazine, and as none of them could read French, provided their own brand of witty commentary on what the articles were about. They finished each other's sentences, as they often did, and so fluidly that Fleur could only marvel at the synchrony of their minds.

But the true marvel was the beaming, giggling girl between them. The paste they had brought had done wonders to heal her face, yes, but it was themselves and the loving friendship they shared between them that had performed the true healing that day.

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(pen name Xedra on AO3)

[terebelli]

Shell Cottage Cullenstown, Ireland