When they walked into a room it was always the same reaction, sudden silence followed by hushed whispers. She didn't have to hear them to know what they were saying. "What's wrong with him?" "Someone so beautiful with someone so damaged, it's a shame." Fleur Weasley walked proudly on the arm of her husband. She loved him and his scars were who he was, they were a part of him, and she loved all of him. It was that simple.
Here radiance was a glowing aura that touched everyone she passed. But even with this aura touching him, he was still seen as a monster. His scared and disfigured face always shocked strangers. But he just smiled and nodded his head as he passed by. The scars did not bother him, the whispers did.
On very rare occations when they ventured out into Muggle London where no one knew the legend of Fenrir Greyback the whispers and stares were even worse. Woman would cringe away as he passed, hugging their children tightly. Scars like that were not a sign of a friendly man. Only evil could possibly caused those scars, and evil did cause them Bill had to admit. But not of his doing, he was innocent in this, a war hero who turned pariah when he walked outside. But by some true miracle, he had a beautiful wife that loved him. Who didn't ignore his scars, but cherished them just as any other part of his body. They were what made him who he was.
And so they were a walking fairytale... The Beauty and the Beast.