Bill Weasley X OC

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It was Neville who first pointed out William Weasley's staring and, I suppose the rest is history.

It was when he was sat in my office one evening in the summer after his third year at Hogwarts. I'd picked him up from King's Cross that morning, as Augusta- Neville's grandmother, and my foster mother- was, at the time, in Croatia. He'd been glancing up towards the street every few seconds, watching something from our position over a coffee shop in the muggle part of London. We'd been stuck up in the small room for the past few hours as I wrote the remaining chapter of my novel and Neville read a muggle book I'd passed him that morning- The Lion, The Witch And The Wardrobe.

"Neville, what are you looking at?" I asked, saving the document on my laptop and moving towards the window he had been sat by for the past hour, "Is there something interesting outside?"

"Ron is outside." he's whispered at me, blushing a little as I smiled.

"Do you want to go and say hello to him, Nev?" the blushing fourteen year-old boy looked up at me as if I'd grown another head, "Trust your foster sister, Longbottom, talking is the first step to a relationship." If Neville could blush anymore he would have, the poor boy look slightly horrified at my knowledge of his painfully obvious crush and, while he was clearly against the idea of going outside, he clearly wanted to see the equally oblivious ginger.

"We could go and get some cake downstairs." he suggested over ten minutes later, making me glance up at him from where I'd sat back down at my desk, "Ron- he's erm gone into the cafe."

"Come on then, lover boy." I smiled, standing up once again, packing my notebooks and laptop into my satchel. Slinging the bag over my shoulder and opening the door, I waited for Neville to make his way out of the door- still clutching the C S Lewis classic. Softly smiling as I locked the door to my work space, I followed him down the stairs and into the bustling cafe below.

The cafe was full of early evening dates and old friends meeting together for old time's sake- it was a scene of nostalgia and happiness. Everyone in the cafe belonged there, everyone was comfortable, everyone looked at home in the small Muggle café in the centre of Birmingham. Everyone except three rather out of place gingers.

Ron, Percy and Bill were sat in the corner, drinking what looked to be tea and eating chocolate muffins- an unlikely trio at the best of times, the three stuck out like a sore thumb. The elder of the three seemed to be fascinated by the book he was holding and Percy, who looked as snotty as ever, was intently watching him as he read a passage. Ron was not part of this literary exchange and was far more engrossed by his muffin and- once he had noticed us- Neville. My attention was partly on the two lovebirds, and the light blush on both their faces; it was also partly on the now twenty four year-old ginger who was failing rather miserably at inconspicuously staring at me.

"Hello, Bill." smiling at the man in the chair as I slipped onto the stool next to him, "How's Molly?"

He gaped at me a little, opening and shutting his mouth like a goldfish before the more serious of the Weasleys replied, "She's well, how have you been, Rosanne?"

Rolling my eyes at the formality of Percy, I nodded, "I've been well, slaving away for newspapers and publishing houses. What about you, Perce, same old studying and discipline?" Bill snorted at that- I heard it- but when I turned to look at him, he'd buried his nose in his cup. Sighing slightly, I turned back to Percy in time for him to shoot me a vaguely irritated glare.

"As both my brothers are clearly suffering from puppy love, I'll be going back to the Burrow. I'll see you both," he stared at them both in turn, "later." With that Percy stood from the chair he had been perched on with immaculate precision and etiquette and left the four of us to ourselves.

Ron and Neville looked to one another, a look that clearly suggested secrets which Neville could not yet divulge to me. While Bill seemed oblivious to their interaction at best, I smiled at Neville, passing him the key to my office and whispering that loving a Slytherin isn't all that bad to the both of them. Smiling softly at the two now crimson boys, I sent them on their way up to the office. I then moved myself around the table so I could sink into one of the plush armchairs and face the eldest Weasley who, by now had clearly stopped reading.

Even in his state of ignoring all the words on the page he still continued to stare at the yellowing pages with as much enthusiasm and attentiveness as you could expect from someone who was actively trying to ignore your existence. From the cold shoulder he was clearly attempting to throw towards me one would have been within their rights to assume I had drastically wronged the Weasley, or, at the very least, tainted his honour.

On the contrary, I'd simply told Bill, upon him asking me to Hogsmeade, that I was a lesbian and couldn't go with him - with a serious implication that his manhood made him incredibly unattractive to me. I wasn't and still am not a lesbian - I was simply a panicking Slytherin who was too terrified to go with her crush to Hogsmeade. So I told him I was gay and went with a boy from my house instead. If anything, that didn't improve the situation with Bill and he spent the remaining few weeks of our final year ignoring me.

His ability to ignore me was something I slowly wore down over months of working together on various newspaper projects and it had slowly formed into sitting together in a silence I found particularly comfortable. Bill didn't appear to find it quite as comfortable and as much as I'd have loved to lean over and kiss him immediately, I was afraid it would send him into shock. Therefore, I sat and watched him, sipping my tea and relaxing into my chair in a way that must have made me look like a melting marshmallow.

In an ideal world, Bill would have realised I wasn't avoiding his crush because I didn't want to be with him - I was avoiding it because I did. While sarcasm and pleasantries are, if anything is, my forte, my ability to show honesty and affection leave much to be desired. So, in our not so ideal world, I had settled to just spend time with him rather than risk confessing a love to him that I was almost sure was no longer reciprocated.

If anyone was to be surprised by William Weasley conversing with them, it was me. The particular surprise came in his choice of words and subject matter.

"What do you mean loving a Slytherin isn't all that bad?" he looked up at me briefly, before returning his eyes to the book before him and leaving me to stare at him with slight confusion.

Opting to voice this confusion, rather than bother with an equally confused answer, I replied with the following phrase. A phrase that did not extract the planned sarcastic reaction from Bill: "Is that a personal attack on my lack of outward affection or do you not listen to your brother's crush updates? You'd best get ready for a Slytherin brother-in-law."

"What about a Slytherin wife?" Bill's eyes flicked up to my own and, seeing my slightly dumbfounded and taken aback expression, he continued, "I was thinking maybe Tessa Chant."

Spluttering through my tea I stared at him, "Tessa? How do you know Tessa?" Tessa wasn't exactly the sort to go for a Weasley, more of a Malfoy and marry for money type. Since when was Bill Weasley contemplating marriage.

He nodded, "She's far more attractive than Little Miss 'I can't, I'm a lesbian.'" I could see the start of a smile on his lips so I threw a cushion at his head.

"That's hardly fair, I panicked." I glared at him, "How was I meant to know it wasn't a stupid prank and that you weren't going to get my hopes up and then crush them? I didn't want to tell you I love you and then you run away"

Bill's head snapped up to stare at me as I realised what I had just inadvertently confessed causing a serious turn in the previously lighthearted conversation. "You lo-"

"How's Ron getting on with wooing Draco?" I interrupted as I stood up and gathered my things, "They think about each other a lot, can't get their thoughts to leave my head sometimes when I'm near the both of them." I paused, "Anyway, it was very nice to see you Bill. I'll see you at work whenever I'm next there."

I turned around and walked away, knowing perfectly well that 'next time' would be never as I'd board a flight to New York next week.

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