Fleur almost regretted saying anything, but Bill's enthusiasm was infectious. He was adorable, and she didn't want to crush his spirit. She would do anything for Bill, even tolerate having his family in her house, quite possibly judging her. If her family lived in England, or if she and Bill lived in France, she knew that they would visit one another every week. It only seemed right that the same standards were shown to Bill's family.
Fleur flicked her wand and summoned her cookbook. It was old, well worn and in French, so it would at least have recipes she liked in it. She put down her teacup and began to flick through the old, delicate pages, "I will Owl your muzzer as soon as we pick a dish," Fleur said, nudging Bill with her toe. "Per'aps duck, or Fricassee de Poulet. I zink a white meat would be best. After today, I do not want to see beef for a long time."
Putting the book aside for a moment, Fleur leaned forward and ran her finger down Bill's nose. It wasn't as smooth a ride as it used to be, but she thought the scars made Bill look brave, rugged even. She kissed his cheek and sat back, smiling a little at him. "What sort of dessert ees your muzzer's favourite? She would zink eet special, oui?"