Another song fic... I dunno about this one, but the song made me think of Fleur, and I kind of wanted to give some back story on the Bill/Fleur relationship.

She Will Be Loved

DISCLAIMER: I do not own this song. It belongs to Maroon 5. I do not own Harry Potter. It belongs to JK Rowling.

Fleur stared out of the window at the pouring rain. Today was the dreariest day she could remember, and not just because of the gray skies.

Visions of her beautiful grandmother flitted through her mind. A full-blooded veela, Desislava Stoeva had fallen in love with a French wizard, Guillaume Delacour, and they had married, despite her parents' objections. Five years ago to the day, Desislava had been killed by dark wizards. Whether or not they were linked to the "Death Eaters" Fleur'd heard so much about since coming to England, she wasn't sure. No one seemed to know why they'd chosen to murder a veela, or at least no one was telling.

Beauty queen of only eighteen
She had some trouble with herself

After her grandmother's death, Fleur lost herself in the only thing she'd inherited from the woman: her looks. Fleur was the only Delacour descendant with silvery locks; even Gabrielle's hair was more of a yellow blonde. And only Fleur had the so-large-you-could-get-lost-in-them, deep violet eyes. The rest of the family's were blue.

Fleur reveled in her good looks as her younger sister grew into a clever, bookish, powerful little witch. Fleur had none of the talent her sister did, and so as Gabrielle continued to show less evidence of a veela relation, Fleur became more convinced that her grandmother had handpicked her to carry the veela traits.

When her seventh year began, her headmistress, Madame Maxime, announced that a select few students would be handpicked to travel to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry in the British Isles for a chance to compete in the TriWizard Tournament. She was surprised to be picked; after all, she was nowhere near the top of her class. Nevertheless, she traveled to Great Britain with several classmates much smarter and more skilled than she.

Hearing her name come out of the Goblet had been an even bigger shock, and she suspected it had something to do with her veela blood. This did nothing for her confidence as she prepared for the first task of the most dangerous event she'd ever participated in.

She reminisced on her accidental meeting with Charlie Weasley, dragon keeper and brother to her boyfriend, Bill. Charlie had helped her through the first task and they'd become friends in the short time he was at the school. He did not hold her heart, although he was closer to her age; they were merely companions. He spoke at length of his family, including his older brother, whom she found fascinating from the very start. Charlie promised to introduce them when Bill came up to watch the Tournament.

The meeting had happened much sooner than she expected. On a snowy Hogsmeade weekend, she responded to Charlie's invitation to Madam Puddifoot's, only to find that Charlie was not there.

He'd sent Bill in his place.

She nearly turned around and walked out in shock, but when he said her name in his deep resounding voice, she found her feet planted to the floor.

"Fleur, isn't it?" He asked with a dazzling smile. For the first time in her life, beautiful, self-absorbed Fleur felt gauche and graceless. Nearly tripping over her own feet, she managed to make it to a table and through the afternoon without making a fool of herself.

After he walked her back to the castle gates, he promised to write to her and suggested another Hogsmeade outing. It took all of her will not to scream, "YES!" Instead, she, somewhat gracefully, inclined her head and said, "I think that would be lovely."

He was always there to help her

He wrote that week, and several times each week after that, and they met in Hogsmeade a few times. She found it very easy to talk to him. He listened carefully, never made her feel stupid or unworthy. Soon she unbent enough to tell him about her grandmother, her veela heritage, and her inadequate powers. He'd not laughed in her face, nor looked away with disgust… he hadn't even been taken with the fact that she was part veela, which was by far what made her respect him the most. He said she was very talented and that she was capable of doing anything, so long as she put her mind to it. She'd heard such clichés before, but from him, it was different. It was more real, more possible – even probable.

When the Yule Ball was announced, she hoped that Bill might attend with her. To her vast disappointment, he declined. She was still in school, he protested, and he wasn't sure if such a thing would be allowed. He didn't want to cause trouble, or make things hard for her as a Champion. What if they suspected he was helping her with the Tournament (although she'd argued that anyone who had seen her performance so far could never believe such a thing)? What if she was taken to task for leaving the school to meet him in secret? What if it jeopardized her chances of winning (again, she argued that her chances of winning were slim to none already)? She was persuasive, he remained adamant. Finally, she lost her temper, saying he was obviously making excuses because he didn't want to be with her. They didn't speak for months

She always belonged to someone else

When Roger Davies approached her and asked her to attend the ball with him, she decided she would go. After all, she was a Champion, and she needed a date. Roger turned out to be very nice, if a bit arrogant at times. She tried to forget about Bill, and at times she almost could. Roger was very understanding, and he was her source of comfort after she failed miserably in the second task, having been outperformed by a boy nearly four years her junior. Not that Harry Potter was an ordinary fourteen year old boy, but it still hurt.

Sometime around April, Bill wrote her. Fleur tore up the letter and threw it away without reading it. A week later, he wrote again. This time, the owl came to her as she was having breakfast with Roger. When he saw the name on the letter, he grew angry and demanded to know who this was. Fleur only told him that Bill was an ex-friend, someone she didn't wish to speak to ever again. This pacified Roger, although he requested that she not respond to the letters. More letters came, first it was one or two a week, then one or two a day. And they stopped coming at breakfast. Instead, she received one during break while walking on the grounds and another just before she went to sleep, or she woke to find an owl perched on her windowsill close to dawn

Again and again she tore up the letters and burned them, or threw them in the lake, or whatever other horrendous death she could think of for them. But her resolve was weakening. She began to think of Bill (and how could she not, when she received a letter from him every few hours?!), even when she was with Roger. She saw Bill's face everywhere, his sad eyes during their last (and only) fight. She couldn't get him out of her mind.

June dawned with a warm sun and the prospect of the third task looming ahead of her. Roger helped her get ready for the task, and for the first time, she thought she might do well. The little butterflies in her stomach were nowhere near as bad as with the first two tasks. Of course, it hadn't helped that no one from her school wanted to help her. They had all been devastated when she was chosen, not that she blamed them. She wasn't exactly the best choice to bring honor and glory to her school, and so far she wasn't proving them wrong.

She awoke to those same butterflies on the morning of June the twenty-fourth. She glanced at the window, out of pure instinct, but there was no owl perched there this morning. The thought dampened her slightly; the owl had become a sense of comfort and normality. Perhaps he had finally given up. Now why did that thought make her want to cry?

On the way to breakfast, Madam Maxime informed her that the Champion's families would be meeting with them after breakfast. She smiled at such a nice surprise. After breakfast, Roger kissed her cheek and left to attend his examsShe made her way down to the chamber where they'd first met after being chosen as Champions. She descended the stairs gracefully, her eyes sweeping the room. She smiled at her parents and her sister, who were in one corner, nodded at Cedric, who was conversing with his parents in another corner, turned toward where she'd seen Viktor out of the corner of her eye… and froze

He was standing in front of the fireplace with a woman who was obviously his mother. One glance at his expression told her that her not having a letter this morning was not by mistake. She looked away and joined her family, her smile all but disappearing.

A few moments later, Harry Potter entered the room, and, with a quick glance in Bill's direction, she made it a point to wave at the boy with a big smile. Harry waved back with a grin. Bill ignored her and greeted Harry along with his mother. Fleur couldn't help but watch him. He was so handsome, and so... she caught Harry watching her with a knowing look, and she turned away, hiding a blush. Gabrielle was still clinging to her hand, as she did whenever she was around her big sister.

The rest of the day, her stomach was in knots, partly because of the look on his face that morning, and partly because she would be performing the third task tonight with him watching. Roger asked her several times if she was all right. When she caught a glance of herself in a mirror, she was as white as a sheet.

After the third task ended in Cedric Diggory's death, Fleur fled to the lake, where she sank onto the soft ground and cried. Cedric had always been nice to her, nicer even than most of her own classmates. Seeing his lifeless body lying on the quidditch field had been too much for her. She cried, tears soaking her shirt front, gasping for breath between each heart-wrenching sob. When a hand fell on her shoulder, she assumed it to be Roger without even looking.

"I just want to be alone, Roger," she said. When the hand remained there, she turned to face, not Roger, but Bill. The look of compassion on his face was her undoing, and she collapsed into his waiting arms. He held her close to his chest as she wept.

"I'm sorry," she gasped, trying to control her tears. He stroked her hair.

"Me, too." She lifted her face to his, and he smiled slightly. "I have to go see Harry in the hospital wing. I'll come back for you, tomorrow," he promised. And he made good on that promise.

I drove for miles and miles
And wound up at your door
I've had you so many times but somehow
I want more

Bill parked his silver Jag in front of their expansive London flat. As much as he tried to fight it, he knew he'd inherited his father's fascination with muggle things, although not with the same intensity. He'd bought the Jag shortly after graduating Hogwarts. Wizarding money was worth a lot more in the muggle world; someone who was poor by wizarding standards could live fairly comfortably as a muggle

He could see her through the window, perched on the window seat, watching the heavy downpour. He produced an umbrella and slid out of the car, heading up the front walk.

Fleur had an odd obsession with rain. It had been raining during their first kiss, and she claimed it rained when she heard the news of her grandmother's death. Anytime drops were falling from the sky, Fleur was drawn to the window, or even to stand outside in it. He'd seen her sit for hours, simply watching the rain.

He let himself in the front door and turned the corner, joining her at the window. She turned her head and smiled up at him as he sat next to her. His insides were a quivering mass of anticipation and nerves, but he forced himself to stare into her eyes. She kissed him automatically, and he yielded for several minutes. Everything about her drew him, like a moth to a flame. He'd never once considered her veela heritage to have anything to do with it.

I don't mind spending everyday
Out on your corner in the pouring rain
Look for the girl with the broken smile
Ask her if she wants to stay awhile
And she will be loved
She will be loved

He definitely loved her, that much was sure. And so did many other men. Or, at least, those men thought they loved her.

Her veela nature was something he'd had a hard time getting past, only because he was possessive of her and couldn't stand the sight of so many men flocking to her.

About a week after her graduation from Beauxbatons, she moved to England and got a job at Gringott's. She told everyone it was to improve her English. He decided to move back to England, too, claiming that he was taking a desk job so that he could be of more use to the Order. He arrived in England only two weeks after she'd settled in. He'd gone to the bank to see her, to surprise her. When he walked inside, he froze.

She was smiling and talked to her old boyfriend, the boy from Hogwarts who'd taken her to the ball when he, Bill, had refused to. Without a word, he turned and walked out. She was a veela, she was born to flirt, born to make men love her.

Tap on my window; knock on my door
I want to make you feel beautiful
I know I tend to get so insecure
It doesn't matter anymore

He felt stupid for letting her go that second time, but when he'd seen her with that boy from Hogwart's he had been so angry, so jealous. Despite what his mother said, he didn't consider himself a handsome man, and the boy she'd been with, well, he'd been a good-looking fellow. What with Fleur being so beautiful, and him feeling so plain, he often found he couldn't stomach it when men went mushy over her, even when she coldly turned away from them to smile up at him.

It's not always rainbows and butterflies
It's compromise that moves us along

"We'll make a deal," she said when he showed up on her doorstep, pleading forgiveness for his stupidity. "I'll do what I can to repel these men. But you have to promise you'll learn to deal with it. You have to trust me, Bill or this isn't going to work.

He did trust her, of course he did. And so he promised to try, and as the months passed, it became easier. He continued to help the Order. Mostly they were protecting Harry from what he didn't need to know. Fleur didn't like that.

"You should tell him," she said one day over dinner. He stared at her. "You can't keep it from forever, he is too curious. This cannot end well."

It was almost eerie how right she was. After Sirius died, Bill saw Harry withdraw into himself. He knew it, because he'd seen Fleur do it so many times.

My heart is full and my door is always open,
You can come anytime you want

He made it a point to always be there for her, even when she withdrew from him. He knew to give her space, to allow her to come to him. It was hard, sometimes, but it was worth it.

I don't mind spending everyday
Out on your corner in the pouring rain
Look for the girl with the broken smile
Ask her if she wants to stay awhile
And she will be loved
She will be loved

Bill got down on one knee and pulled a small box out of his robes. Fleur's eyes shot wide open.

"Fleur, I love you more than anything in this world. Will you marry me?" She threw her arms around his neck, nearly knocking them both to the ground.

"Of course! Did you think I would say no?" She kissed him.

I know where you hide
Alone in your car
Know all of the things that make you who you are
I know that goodbye means nothing at all
Comes back and begs me to catch her every time she falls

Even when they fought, it didn't faze Bill. Fleur had a typical veela temper and often said things she didn't mean.

"I hate you, do you know that?" She snapped. He shook his head.

"No, you don't," he told her calmly. She jerked away from him, glaring at him. He stood there, still and solid, waiting. She glared at him, but after several seconds, her gaze began to soften, and she collapsed into his arms.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "How do you put up with me?" He smiled.

"I love you. I just want to make you feel truly loved."

Tap on my window knock on my door
I want to make you feel beautiful

After his face had been savaged by a werewolf, Bill had been terrified that Fleur would leave him. He'd been slightly surprised at what his mother had told him about Fleur's declaration in the hospital wing.

She never once shuddered or even frowned when she looked at him. And on their wedding day, she pledged her life to him without a moment's hesitation. It was at that moment that Bill knew exactly why he loved her so much.

I don't mind spending everyday
Out on your corner in the pouring rain
Look for the girl with the broken smile
Ask her if she wants to stay awhile

Fleur smiled as she held her wand to the old werewolf's throat. He trembled under her, though he tried to look disdainful. She cared little for the rest of the battle that was raging on around them. At the moment, she didn't even care if Harry managed to defeat Voldemort. All she cared about was making this – this thing suffer.

"You almost took from me the one thing I ever cared about. You will wish you had never messed with Fleur Delacour Weasley."

And she will be loved
She will be loved