[FIC] A Woman of Talent: Bill/Rosmerta; Arthur/Rosmerta :: gift for ships_harry Title: A Woman of Talent Author: Recipient:ships_harry Pairing: Bill/Rosmerta, previous Arthur/Rosmerta Rating: R Word Count: ~3,400 Warnings: Cross-gen, but Bill is eighteen. Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters herein are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No copyright infringement is intended. Summary: Like father, like son; the Weasleys meet a certain woman of talent, but life never repeats itself. Author's Notes: Thank heavens for betas, anonymous as they might be for the time being.
***
Bill Weasley was pissed off. He'd just dropped Amanda Vane off at the Ravenclaw tower. She was definitely cross with him, because she'd screamed the answer to the question, startling the eagle-faced bronze knocker which had shrieked in fright and opened the door without even complimenting her on the correct response. When the door opened, she marched inside without giving Bill another look, let alone his much-desired good-night kiss, muttering something about him going back to Hogsmeade to get what he wanted.
He had no idea what had triggered the girl's fury. All he wanted was to finally go all the way with her, and, as he was following her to Ravenclaw Tower, had asked – all right, begged – her to please sleep with him. Or not even sleep, just spend a few hours together.
Or not even that long – just enough for him to lose his damn virginity. Not that he would ever admit that to her – or anyone else.
Because that was the sad truth: good-looking, cool Bill Weasley, the heartthrob of the school, was still a virgin at age eighteen. In a few months he'd be out in the real world, and he couldn't fathom having his first time with an experienced witch he'd meet at work, perhaps.
It was all Molly's fault, he decided. She had sat down with him and Arthur while his father gave him The Talk, interrupting the already extremely embarrassing conversation – which would have been so even in the absence of his mother - to let him know that it was wrong to have sex while one was underage. He should really save himself for a nice witch he would marry and so on.
It wasn't hard advice to follow – after all, the school didn't present many opportunities even for a simple quality snogging, with all those Surveillance Charms and the constant presence of Filch and Mrs Norris. That was why Bill had been really hopeful about that date with Amanda on Valentine's Day: they would be going to Hogsmeade and there he was sure he would find a little private time with her.
And she had been quite amenable to the idea, it seemed. During the few sessions they had managed to find privacy in that damn school, she had let him do to her – and had done to him – amazing things, stopping just short of the real thing. So that Valentine's Day was shaping up to be very special for Bill.
He still didn't know what had gone wrong. They had met at the Great Hall and then walked together to Hogsmeade. Then they had tried to go into Puddifoot's, but it seemed that the whole school body had had the same idea. Bill suggested The Three Broomsticks – he needed something a little stronger than Puddifoot's tea – and they managed to find a secluded corner seat. There, hidden from view, he put his hand under the table and slid it up her legs.
It was all looking very promising, especially as her hand was also moving up his leg toward his crotch. Bill leant forward to kiss Amanda, but was interrupted by a sultry voice, "Would you like a drink for after?"
He knew that voice well. It was a voice that had whispered in his ears since his third year, when he jerked off alone in his bed, curtains drawn tight. A voice that belonged to a curvaceous body that he saw perfectly through his closed eyes.
Rosmerta.
Bill moved away from Amanda slowly, almost not daring to look up; he cleared his throat and, putting on his most mature face, fixed his eyes on the woman standing next to him. He thought he saw a flicker of surprise on her face, but it disappeared quickly as he ordered two Butterbeers.
She nodded curtly and turned around to walk away, and Bill followed her with his eyes, admiring the sway of her well-formed hips, almost bursting out in a very sensuous way from the tight robes that were hugging her body. He let his mouth hang open while his cock started trying to get a little too interested in the woman now disappearing behind the counter.
His hand was still on Amanda's thigh and he squeezed it hard. She yelped and that brought him out of his reverie.
"Are you mad, Bill?" she asked tersely.
He stuttered an apology, but didn't look at her, because, at that time, Rosmerta was walking back, a tray in hand, and Bill couldn't stop gawking at her. Amanda slapped his arm to call his attention, but Bill, a silly grin on his face, was admiring every single part of Rosmerta's body he could see. And the parts that were well covered, but which he could see in his imagination.
When she leant down to place the Butterbeers on the table, her cleavage in view, he let out a croak that made both women raise their eyebrows at him. After a brief pause, Amanda, tired of waiting for Bill to take action, uncapped her bottle and took a large swig.
And Bill just stared at Rosmerta, who was still standing next to their table with a little smirk, one eyebrow raised, also staring back at him.
Amanda finally broke the spell. "Madam Rosmerta, do you need anything?"
She turned her eyes to the girl, eyebrow still up. "Of course. Your boyfriend needs to pay me."
Embarrassed, turning even redder, Bill fished for a few coins and, apologizing, handed them to her. With a simple "Thanks," she clicked her way back to the counter, Bill following her every movement. Amanda tried to call his attention, but, at that time, his eyes – and mind – were busy elsewhere.
From that moment on, the date went downhill, ending with the debacle at the Ravenclaw Tower.
Furious at her for having led him on and not following through, Bill decided he needed something to help him cool off. He still didn't understand why she had told him to go back to Hogsmeade, but, at that point in time, it seemed like a good idea. Using his Head Boy privilege of being able to be out of his dorm late, which would save him from detention if he was caught, he walked stealthily out of the castle and strode to the little town.
Maybe a nice glass of Firewhiskey would clear his head and help him understand women.
***
Rosmerta waved her wand once more and the last of the empty bottles were Banished to the trash bin. Two magic mops were already finishing up washing the floor. It had been a good day business-wise and she was tired.
She poured herself some of her famous mead and, kicking her high heels off, sat down at a table. She lived off the sale of spirits, but she was not a heavy drinker. Once in a while she indulged in a glass by the fire, usually when she was in need of reflection.
And that had been a perfect day for that. Alone in her pub, Rosmerta mused on how much the oldest of Arthur's sons resembled his father. It had actually been a shock to see the young man there. Surely she'd seen him other times – she remembered well the pang when she saw him at his first visit to the Three Broomsticks, the living proof that Arthur had married Molly. And he looked just like the young Arthur whom she had befriended at school out of pity for the boy who was a little ostracized because of his strange ideas and obsession with all things Muggle.
But now, at eighteen, Arthur's son was the spitting image of the young man who had been much more than a friend.
Indulging in another rare pleasure, Rosmerta lit a cigarette with her wand tip and let her mind float back to some twenty years ago.
***
Rosmerta had always been a popular girl, especially among the boys. She didn't have any close female friend at school – she hated gossip and, although she was careful with her appearance, she didn't care much for spending endless hours leafing through Teen Witch issues for beauty tips.
But the boys liked her easy-going nature, although some of them mistook it for something else. She fended their advances off with grace. It was not that she wasn't interested in many of them, but she wanted to make her first time something more memorable than a fumbling with a schoolboy.
And it had happened, right after her eighteenth birthday, during the Christmas holiday, with a former classmate she'd been interested in. She and Fabian Prewett had dated off and on while he was still at school, and he had been one of the hardest for her to resist. But on the night of her birthday, busy in removing Amos Diggory's hand off her legs, she decided that Fabian was the one. He was a couple of years older and probably had had a lot of experience with women.
She left her partying friends in the Common Room and went the Owlery to send a message to Fabian. His response to her suggestion of a date was eager and quick and, after a brief week with him in London, Rosmerta came back to school with experience and a lot of talent to be honed, as he told her.
And also with the assurance that, fun as Fabian might have been, he was not boyfriend material. They had parted as friends with no further promises from either side.
Back at school, she kept on being friends with the boys, but now completely certain that she wouldn't yield to any of their advances.
She wanted experienced men like Fabian, not boys.
***
She broke her promise to herself one night when she walked into the Gryffindor Common Room and found it occupied by a forlorn-looking Arthur Weasley. She'd always had a soft spot for him, from the moment they were both sorted into Gryffindor. He was a nice boy, but always looked out of place among the other students. She had befriended him one day as some of the older boys – Fabian and his twin Gideon included – were ganging up on Arthur, making fun of him because he was starting to collect Muggle plugs.
They were the same age, she and Arthur, but she always felt the older. That night she sat with him while he poured his heart out to her: there was this fifth year girl, called Molly Prewett, whom he'd taken to Hogsmeade for Valentine, and no, he wasn't really dating her, she was too young, to start with, but he had asked her out and now she was after him, having confused a simple cup of tea at Puddifoot's for something else.
Rosmerta knew the Prewett girl – she was a little stocky, just like her brothers, but, contrary to them, she was quiet. Fabian and Gideon were ferociously protective of their sister, and Rosmerta imagined what they would do if Molly mentioned that Arthur had taken her out and now wanted to call off the relationship that never was. She couldn't hide a grin: while Fabian had been more than happy to let their affair fizzle out, it was interesting to see that their sister was much more of the clingy type.
She sat down with Arthur, talking to him until the wee hours of the morning, discussing relationships and the differences in feelings between men and women. It was easy to talk to him, she found out. He was a good, sensitive boy and he listened as much as he talked. And then, suddenly, he held her hand and she leant over, their lips touched – and by the time Rosmerta realized what was going on, she was lying on her back, robes open in front, Arthur on top of her telling her that he had no idea what he had to do.
Maybe it was his innocence and frankness. Maybe it was something inside her that thought it exciting that she could teach Arthur, whom Molly considered a boyfriend, everything she'd learnt from Fabian.
Afterwards, when she was alone in her bed, she mused that it had certainly not been as good as with Fabian, but it had left her feeling much more of a woman.
***
They became boy- and girlfriend, to the amazement of some of the other boys, who couldn't imagine that Arthur had snatched one of the most desirable girls in school.
Rosmerta was happy; Arthur fulfilled her in every sense of the word and together they discovered the pleasure that comes from caring for your partner. Sex became much better when one put feelings in it, she discovered. She knew she had made the right choice and often thanked fate for having put Arthur in the Gryffindor Common Room that night.
As the year was drawing to a close, she knew she loved him, and she thought he felt the same for her. In fact, they had talked off and on about a life together, the only drawback being that he would be working for the Ministry and she, after two years in the Continent learning more about her trade, would take over the pub in Hogsmeade that belonged to her family.
It was a tearful farewell when she left, but she knew it was only a short separation before they were together forever.
***
She was in Germany, learning how to brew the perfect Butterbeer when the owl reached her. She opened it quickly, recognizing Arthur's handwriting and her face fell as she read his note of apology.
Arthur was engaged to marry Molly Prewett as soon as she finished school.
***
She put out her cigarette and took the last sip of mead. She had got over Arthur, of course, and she'd had many lovers, starting with the German Master Brewer who had consoled her so many years before. She'd never seen Arthur again – he'd tried to talk to her to explain in person, but she hadn't responded to his owl. With time, she understood that he hadn't been a bastard as she thought at the time; he'd just fallen in love with someone else, and that happened all the time.
She thought she had put him completely out of her mind, until that day when she saw his son.
With a deep sigh, she collected the empty glass and was about to stand up when she heard the pub door opening. She opened her mouth to inform the guest that it was closed, but when she saw the expectant face, she gasped.
"Arthur! What're you doing here?"
He looked at her, puzzled. "'M not Arthur. I'm...I'm his son."
She closed her eyes, the pain of all those years before rushing to her mind.
"Did you know my father?" he asked when she remained silent.
"Yes. We were in school together. And shouldn't you be there now?" she asked, avoiding his eye.
"Yeah, but..."
"But what?" She knew she was implacable, but she wanted that Arthur replica out of her pub as soon as possible.
"I...I need a drink."
"You had one earlier today with your girlfriend."
"She's not...she broke up with me."
"I see. And you want to drown your sorrows at the bottom of a glass, do you?"
"I'm not sorrowful," he answered defensively. "It's just that...I don't understand women at all!"
She laughed. The boy was darling. He was much more self-assured than his father had been, but she felt the same desire to help him as she had helped Arthur – by talking! There was no way she would be a cradle-robber with-
"What's your name?"
"Bill."
"All right, Bill, have a seat. Maybe I can help you make sense of the whole situation." She grabbed the mead and poured two glasses. "Tell me about it."
It didn't take her very long to put two and two together: his girlfriend had been upset to see that he was paying attention to the older woman than to her, but Bill was oblivious to that.
It became quickly obvious that young Bill would be in no position to go back to Hogwarts any time soon: he kept reaching for the mead and re-filling his glass, while he told her all about his girl troubles. And he was already drunk when he admitted to her that he was a virgin and he needed to take care of that before he left school.
It had been so much like her own experience that she didn't even pull her hand away when he covered it with his. And when he kissed her, she reciprocated, not minding any more that he was a good twenty years younger than her. But he looked like the first love of her life, and she needed the comfort of a warm body next to her that night.
Later on, as he lay naked on her bed, snoring softly, she sobered up and wondered when her life would be completely rid of Prewetts and Weasleys.
***
She sent him back to school after having cast a sound Sobering Charm on him, but was not surprised when he came back the following night. Or the ones after that.
***
A few days before Easter holidays, Bill came to The Three Broomsticks with a proposal: he wanted to spend all the time with her. He would tell his parents that he would be staying at school, and he would tell school that he'd be going home.
"No, Bill, you can't. I don't want you to lie."
"But I want to be with you, Rosmerta. I need to sleep and wake up next to you."
"Bill, you're going home to your parents," she said, feeling more like a mother than a lover.
"I don't want to be home, Rosmerta. I only want to be with you. I...I can't be without you any more. I..."
"Stop it, Bill," she said, knowing what was coming, wanting and not wanting to hear it at the same time.
"No, I won't stop. I love you, Rosmerta. I want to take you home to tell my parents that I want to marry you," he blurted out, his face red with what was probably a mix of emotion and shyness.
She looked at him dumbfounded. She saw herself sitting at Molly and Arthur's table for Sunday dinner as their child's bride.
Their child's bride.
It was preposterous. "Bill, it wouldn't work; I'm old enough to be your mother." And your father's first lover, she thought with a pang in her heart.
"I don't care about it, Rosmerta!"
"I'm sure your parents will." She wondered if Arthur and Molly had ever discussed her at all. Molly knew they had been an item, but had Arthur confessed everything?
"I don't care what they think. I love you and I want to marry you," he repeated stubbornly. "I'm an adult, after all."
A marriage proposal. From a Weasley who was also half-Prewett. Life couldn't be any more surprising. Bill was part both men who'd made an impression in her life, and yet he was neither. He was his own self and even in his youth she could feel that he was serious about what he was saying.
She felt the urge to touch his face, to caress it, but she kept her hands to her side. What she would say now would hurt him immensely, but the alternative was a path she was not ready to take. She couldn't let this grow into what her heart was already warming up to.
"Bill, the problem is that I don't love you. It was all very nice, but it wasn't supposed to last. I'm sorry – flattered, but sorry – that you have feelings for me, but unfortunately I can't reciprocate."
His face showed a level of pain she'd never seen before in a man. Her heart ached, but she couldn't do anything else. Before he could say anything, she turned to the door that led to her private quarters and closed it after her.
Walking upstairs, she convinced herself that he was young and would forget her. Just like she had done with his father, right?
***
Rosmerta noticed the lanky red-haired boy right away – and smiled when she realized he'd been gawking at her. Another little Arthur version, sitting with a bushy-haired girl in the second Hogsmeade trip of the year. It was interesting to see that Weasleys, after all, would always be attracted to her, but this time, this one would have to fend off for himself and learn the ropes from someone else.