Fleur's hair was back in a long braid as she prepared the area that was going to be her garden. Where they were, they wouldn't get very much snow, and what there was would be blown off into the sea soon enough. It was a bit early, perhaps, but they'd wanted to turn the soil, to plant the bulbs for the flower garden, and to clear the area where they would plant vegetables when spring arrived. She'd already made a small windowbox for herbs behind the kitchen. A small home garden was very useful, she had to admit. But she drew her line at chickens like the Weasleys had.
No home of hers was going to have chickens squawking about it, making a mess, leaving feathers everywhere. She frowned and scraped the garden with her hoe, a strand of hair falling in her face. They could have used magic for some of this, but there was something about the manual work she needed just now. The word had come down yesterday from Kingsley that they were requiring Muggleborns to register their heritage. It would only be a matter of time before things became worse. A trickling little unspoken fear at the back of her thoughts made her wonder if they would be interested in people such as herself, people with part creature blood in them.
It was a troubling thought. She reached up with one gloved hand and wiped her forehead of perspiration, streaking it with a bit of dirt.