mynameisfleur (mynameisfleur) wrote in the_quaffle, @ 2014-02-09 17:27:00 |
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Entry tags: | char: fleur weasley, char: roger davies |
Who: Roger and Fleur
When: Saturday Afternoon
Where: Diagon and then restaurant
What: Catching up
Status: Log - Complete
Rating: Low
It was a very cold, grey February day. Fleur had taken the children to Molly and Arthur's for the day. All parties involved were happy with the arrangement. Fleur hadn't had a day on her own in two or three weeks and she had no idea where her husband was. Perhaps Egypt or perhaps he was here. William didn't bother to check in with her. He'd stop in to see their children, toss a nasty barb her way and be gone. He'd been home a few days, what with the appearance of Charlie's new child. He'd seemed more interested in that then his own family.
Running a hand through her blonde hair, she stepped into the lingerie store, hoping to find something that might get her marriage back on track. After twenty minutes of shopping, Fleur found a very lovely pink and black set that might to do the trick. If, of course, William even planned on staying around. She didn't really think that would happen and the longer their sham of a marriage continued, the more she'd contemplated what she was going to do about it. Bill had changed. He was not the same person he was when they had married... even a few months ago. Something was different.
Stepping outside, lovely pink bag in hand, Fleur hurried out of the cold and around the corner, running smack into a large, broad chest. It sent her tumbling to the ground, contents of her bag spilling onto the grey cobblestone, the bright pink and lace a glaring contrast. "Mon dieu," she murmured. "I am so very sorry." She glanced up, trying quickly to get her knickers back into the bag. "Roger?"
---
The day wasn't even close to over yet, and it was already getting too long; the manufacturers had messed up the order of Omnioculars, making it impossible to back out of the view once the user had zoomed in, and the broom design still wouldn't fly. Roger had investors breathing down his neck about it, and he still didn't have an answer as to when the brooms would be ready, much less the answer they wanted. It had been years since Nimbus had had the season's hot broom. He had promised the investors that this would be the year that all changed, but the manufacturers were committed to making him a liar.
He was taking a walk to clear his head after a very heated discussion over Floo, past the shops and dodging between slow pedestrians when he was knocked into by a woman with blonde hair that smelled like flower and sunshine. She bounced off of him and landed on the ground.
"Nice knickers," he couldn't help saying, and then. "Yeah...? Fleur? Oh, I'm sorry." Now that he recognized her, Roger helped her to her feet. "I... sorry, about what... the... I said, I... Sorry. You alright?"
---
Fleur stuffed her Valentine's surprise for her husband in the bag, taking Roger's hand as he helped her off the cold cobblestone. Slipping the bag onto her wrist, she watched with amusement as he apologized. Men had the tendency to react that way around her. She was used to it really. She had, of course, expected him to be past it as they'd spent most of that year at Hogwarts snogging. Flipping her hair off her shoulder she nodded, idly rubbing her wrist. She'd landed on it a bit funny when she'd fallen. "Really, Roger," she said, releasing his hand. "I 'ad zot you were over zee whole babbling."
Fleur had always had a soft spot for Roger Davies. He'd been absolute delight in school. Well once he'd gotten over the staring and gaping. They'd spent a year talking to one another and snogging, of course. Brushing off her leggings, Fleur pulled the neck of her long, black and grey, heavy cowl necked sweater into place. She looked him over, giving him a bright, big smile. It was, honestly, one of the few she'd managed in the past few weeks.
"You are looking quite well, Roger!" she said, linking her arm through his. "We should 'ave ze lunch, non?" It had been ages since Fleur had eaten with anyone that didn't throw peas or need to be spoon fed. "We 'ave much of ze catching up to do and I am, for once, perfectly free." Her eyes widened, realizing how bossy she sounded. She dropped his arm and frowned. "Zat iz eef you are able to eat?"
---
Roger hated the tongue-tied git he turned into every time he ran into Fleur after a long time apart. It was consistent enough for him to know that it was her. It had never happened with anybody else. But honestly, how was he supposed to think when she smiled at him like that? The sun hadn't shown itself in over a week, but Roger wouldn't have known it for that smile.
"I'll try not to babble," he told her with a smile of his own and a determined nod. He straightened and took a steadying breath before offering her his arm. She took it seamlessly and started to guide him down the path, leaving his worries behind and replacing them with new ones. He watched her as she spoke, all too aware of the height his hair had likely taken for his having pulled on it for almost twenty minutes. His suit probably still looked crisp, unless his tie was all askew. It most likely was. Merlin, why had he run into her today? Couldn't he have run into her in the morning, after his coffee but before the worries of the day had taken their toll?
His rambling thoughts were interrupted when they stopped their forward movement and the smile fell from Fleur's beautiful lips. Those had been great lips. Roger remembered them fondly.
She'd asked him a question. "Of course I'm able to eat," he reassured her. Taking her hand (so soft!), it was Roger's turn to guide her forward. "What are you in the mood for? There's a cafe down that way." Roger pointed forward and to the right. "Or are you in the mood for something more... more? There's a nice restaurant in two blocks."
---
Fleur didn't pay much attention to her appearance. She had realized, long ago, that she could be covered in blood and mud and men would still stare as though she had stepped off the pages of a fashion magazine. Still, she found herself glancing down, making sure there were no handprints on her leggings and that her sweater didn't have a any food stuck to it. Her eyes flickered to Roger, a warm, tingly feeling settling in her stomach. Her brow furrowed slightly, realizing she hadn't felt that in a very long time. Worrying her lower lip, she glanced away, suddenly feeling a bit nervous. Bill would not approve of her being out. Even if it was with a friend. Of course, Roger was more than just a friend. Well, he had been more than just a friend. It had been a little over a year since she'd last seen or spoken to him.
Brushing a stray piece of hair off her face, Fleur gave Roger another smile. "You are just as 'andsome as ever!" she said, thoughts flashing back to their time at Hogwarts. She should not be thinking of snogging another man. Or remembering what it had been like. They were children at the time. Just children. "Are you dating anyone?" she asked, curiously. "Ze last I remember you were wiz the Amanda girl."
As his hand slipped into hers, her eyes widened, slightly startled by the familiar contact. She had not held hands with anyone in a very long time. Not with a man. Her teeth caught her lower lip, worry clouding her face. She did not want to let go. Swallowing, Fleur didn't let go. It was wrong but it was very comforting and she hadn't had that in a very long time.
"Ah," she said, delicately clearing her throat. "I could be 'aving somezing more, yes?" Her eyes roamed over the broad shoulders, tastefully dressed in a lovely suit. He was still so very 'andsome. "If you 'ave ze time." She didn't let herself realize it was because she wanted more time with him then a cafe would allow.
---
"Something more it is, then. I could use the break," he told her. Time was in short supply, particularly today, this week, this month. There was so much to do, but... Fleur. Roger had never had reason to say no to her, but found that it would be nearly impossible to do, should the need ever arise. Besides, he really did need a break.
Roger blushed and took the opportunity to check and straighten his tie at the compliment, still feeling woefully inadequate. It was an almost alien feeling; he was used to women fawning over him, not the other way around. He was used to walking into a room with his head high and an air of distinct superiority. And here he was, blushing.
"No. Well. Yes." He closed his eyes and shook his head. Then, he started over. "Mandy and I broke up a few months ago. I... didn't deserve her." That was the best way to say it. Roger didn't think that Fleur would be too impressed if he admitted to having cheated on his ex. More than once.
"And I'm not dating a specific person, I'm more of a romantic nomad," he admitted haltingly. Waving a hand vaguely forward, he added, "Shopping around, so to speak." And sleeping around. A lot.
---
"Bon!" she said, happily, letting him lead them down the cobblestones and towards a lovely little restaurant she hadn't had the chance to try. Of course, she didn't really eat out often. Or ever. Aside from family dinner with the Weasley's and the occasional outing with Marietta, her meals consisted of sandwiches and baby food. It wasn't exactly gourmet. "I am glad we will get to 'ave the company togezer."
Fleur didn't notice his blush, too busy debating with herself to let go of his hand. When they stopped in front of the door, Fleur's opportunity arose and she smoothly slipped her hand from his, stepping in front of him and into the restaurant. This would already cause too many problems and she was a married woman. With two children. And it was Roger. She was not completely unaware of his interest in women. She did read the papers on occasion.
Raising a brow at his admittance, Fleur smiled at the maitre'd, who immediately dropped the menus. Switching her attention back to Roger, Fleur frowned. "Zat is too bad," she said, nodding. "She was a very nice girl et tres intelligente."
She looked at him, trying to piece together what he said. "Nomade?" she asked, eyes widening in understanding. "Ah. You are sleeping wiz all ze women, yes?"
---
Roger pulled out Fleur's chair for her before taking his own.
"She's still a very nice girl, and very intelligent. We're still friends." He fiddled with his menu before crossing his hands on top of it to look across the table as seriously as he was able. It was hard not to let himself sit there gaping at her. Her hair was so shiny, her skin so flawless, that he kept forgetting her questions. It had taken him some time to get used to it long enough to carry a conversation back at Hogwarts, and he was out of practice.
"But yes, I-" He dropped his gaze to the menu's black cover for a moment before lifting it back to her face. "I do sleep with many women."
How did she do it? How did she make him feel ashamed for living the life most men would kill for? How did she make him feel ashamed for living the life he enjoyed and that he felt no need to renounce? Usually. Roger couldn't help but wonder if he might not have married her, had children, had a respectable life if they had somehow managed to stay together after the Tournament. The very notion of being a husband and father was revolting most of the time, but for now, in this moment, sitting across the table from Fleur Delacour...
Fleur Weasley. That was right, now had he forgotten? She was a mother. She was married? Merlin, what was he doing?
His glance once again fell to the menu, which he opened and began to peruse. "How are the husband and kids?"
---
Fleur sat, smiling her thanks as she crossed her legs under the table, taking the menu from their host.
"Zat is good," she said, scanning the selection. "It can be 'ard to be friends avec ze ex. I am glad you are able to do it." Fleur could tell that he was attempting to adjust to her and she had to admit that she was slightly amused by his desire to control his reaction around her. It was rather vain of her to admit that she enjoyed it. Her husband didn't react to her this way. Not a bit. He had no interest in her. Not really. Of course, she was certain that her little shopping jaunt would matter little but, occasionally, she dreamed of piecing back her broken marriage.
Her eyes met his, eyebrow slightly raised at his answer. She wasn't surprised. Not really. He was handsome, had a successful career and was incredibly bright. It was what had drawn her to him at Hogwarts. Well, minus the job. It wasn't s though she disapproved... well, not really. Maybe a little. "I 'ope you're enjoying that," she said, somewhat stiffly. She did not like the idea of him and other women. Of course, that was silly. She was married and had two children.
Fleur's eyes dropped to the menu and she shrugged, gracefully. "Zey are well," she murmured, smiling at the thought of her children. "Louis iz turning one on ze first of March and Victoire will be five in May. Zey are growing up." She worried her lower lip, eyes flicking between him and the menu. It wasn't hard to see the sadness when she brought up Bill. "William is busy. I do not see 'im often. Once or twice a month... 'E iz working a lot." She shrugged, ordering them a bottle of wine. "And, if you read ze papers, 'aving an affair."
---
Roger felt her disapproval like a slap, and had to take a deep breath to keep from apologizing, especially so soon after having received her smile. He didn't know how to answer. Either he told her that he did enjoy it very much thank you, which was, at least for the moment, a lie, or he told her that he didn't, which was even more of one. He opted to worry his lip and direct all of his outward attention to his menu, even while he considered the possibility that he should leave. He wasn't himself around her, he never had been. She was a dream, a fantasy. She showed him what he should be and wasn't. It hadn't been that way back at Hogwarts, but it had been years - a decade - since then. Things had changed - he had changed.
What he wouldn't do to make her smile at him again.
Before he could contemplate leaving much further, Fleur replied to his inquiry. The answer wasn't as he'd expected and the surprise showed clearly on his face.
"He-- I thought that was just bullshit!" he said, interrupting himself momentarily to thank the waiter for the wine and dismissing him just as quickly. "He's not actually sleeping around. He can't be." But once or twice a month? That was ridiculous, of course he was. Did he have another wife on the side? Roger suddenly felt it quite likely that he would be hunting Bill Weasley down to give him a piece of his mind in the very near future.
---
Taking her wine, Fleur took a drink, eyes meeting his and smiling at the incredulity in his tone. "Je ne sais pas...I don't know," she said, trying to dismiss the idea. There had been affair rumors for six months now. He was convinced she'd been sleeping with a family friend when she visited France and Fleur wasn't sure if he was actually doing it or if it was some sort of effective torture to drive her mental. She tried to find some sort of... emotion over the thought of her husband with another woman. Perhaps she'd turned her cold, french heart on because there wasn't much there. It was easier to not feel.
"It 'as not been good for William and I," she said, sipping delicately. " 'e comes home to see ze children but we do not talk very much." They hadn't had sex since before Louis was born. Over a year. She hadn't had sex in over a year. Luckily for her, the children kept her busy and she was too tired to worry about her sex life. "I am glad you find it unbelievable but I do not zink it is zat shocking. If someone iz not happy..." She shrugged. "Zey find a way to be happy."
Fleur reached for a piece of bread, buttering it before taking a bite. "I do not zink we will last to much very longer," she said, sadness creeping into her voice. Fleur wouldn't be surprised if divorce papers were served soon. "I do not know. We 'ave not tried to fix it. Not like we should 'ave."
She smiled, though, it was somewhat strained. "Zis is not a very good subject. Iz eet? 'Ow is your work?"