Project Crumpet - Meeting the Weasleys Chapter 3

[girlyswot]

Intrigued by Bill

Christy screwed up her face and stretched luxuriously, revelling in the fact that this was Sunday and, for the first time since she’d arrived in England, Hermione didn’t have a full day of sightseeing planned for her. Not that she hadn’t enjoyed seeing all those old towns and quaint villages. The haunted castles would certainly be something to tell the folks back home.

Today, however, she was free to do just as she chose. Right now, thought Christy with a lazy smile, she wanted someone to bring her a cup of coffee and the New York Oracle to read in bed. In the absence of anyone to anticipate her wishes, she swung her legs over the side of the bed and made her way down to the kitchen.

Ron was already there, crunching his way through a stack of toast liberally spread with butter and marmalade. He gave Christy a nod and indicated the half-full pot of coffee on the side. They ate their breakfast in a companionable silence.

Eventually, Ron pushed his chair back and took his plate over to the sink.

‘Have you got any plans for today?’

Christy shook her head and refilled her cup.

‘Well, you’re welcome to come to The Burrow, if you want.’

Not for the first time, Christy wondered if they really did speak a different language here. Why would she want to go to a rabbit warren? For that matter, why would Ron want to?

Well, it was of no consequence. She wasn’t going anywhere today.

Ron shrugged easily. ‘Fair enough. Mum would love to meet you though. Tell you what, I’ll leave the address in case you change your mind. Lunch’ll be about one. Come any time you like.’

‘Where’s Hermione?’ she asked idly.

‘She went over to my sister’s but she’ll be there at lunch. Percy too, I expect. Oh, and Bill’s visiting. You’d like him,’ Ron informed her confidently. ‘He’s a cursebreaker in Egypt, you know.’

Christy frowned. Was Ron trying to set her up? That certainly wasn’t part of the plan. She’d only just come out of a serious long-term relationship. She didn’t need a fling with a cursebreaker.

‘Oh crap.’ Ron indicated the clock which never actually told the time. Right now, the hand marked ‘Ron’ was pointing to ‘Get a move on, you’re going to be late.’

‘I’d better go,’ he said apologetically. ‘Got a few things to check on at the site. Maybe I’ll see you later?’

Christy smiled noncommittally and made a vague reply.

###

She was only going to meet Ron’s parents. And his sister. And it would be nice to get to know Percy a bit better outside of work. She had no interest in the mysterious cursebreaker at all.

Christy really hadn’t intended to take up Ron’s casual invitation. She’d taken her time over breakfast, enjoyed a long shower, taken her book out into the garden and put her feet up. But something had kept prompting her to check her watch. And she found she hadn’t read more than a paragraph of her Fifi La Folle novel. Her eyes kept drifting shut and her mind swam with unbidden images of a tall, lean, suntanned man, who for some reason had ridiculously bright red hair, doing nonspecific but certainly very daring things among the pyramids.

So here she was, wearing her best cream linen skirt and a coral coloured tank top that she knew showed off her slim, toned figure and gave her skin a warm, healthy glow. Christy pulled out her hand mirror to check that her hair was still in place after her Apparition, and didn’t let herself stop to think about why she suddenly cared so much about her appearance.

Satisfied that everything was as it should be, Christy opened the garden gate and made her way to what she supposed must be the front door of the ramshackle building where Ron’s parents lived. She knocked politely at the door, noticing that it really could do with a fresh coat of paint. There were cries and shouts of children playing somewhere nearby and there were certainly signs of a large lunch being prepared when she peered in through the window. Christy knocked again, a little louder this time.

‘Come in,’ called a voice from deep within the house.

Cautiously, Christy pushed the door open. She had never seen anything quite like it. There was hardly a single wall that boasted a flat, vertical surface. Doors were crooked, windows bowed. Even the staircase seemed to twist and turn in the most unlikely fashion. And the whole room was filled with the kind of chaotic mess that would have had Christy’s mom turning in her grave. Broomsticks and witches’ hats, owl cages and books were piled crazily on every surface and spilled out of cupboards that didn’t quite close. Robes were not quite hung on hooks and children’s toys were positioned carefully to trip up any unsuspecting adult. Pans and kettles on the stove were bubbling and boiling cheerfully.

‘Time to stir the gravy!’ announced a chirpy looking clock above the stove. ‘Remember to turn the potatoes!’

Christy looked down at herself doubtfully. She didn’t much fancy going near that stove in this skirt. It was hell to get stains out of. Still, perhaps it would be friendly to try to help. She looked about for a spoon.

‘Hey, you shouldn’t be doing that!’

It was the same voice that had told her to come in. Christy stepped back apologetically. ‘I didn’t mean…’ Her words trailed off as she came face to face with the most beautiful man she’d ever seen.

He was smiling as he reached past her for the wooden spoon. He stirred one of the pans and adjusted the heat. Then he turned to her, holding out his hand . ‘I’m sorry. Just, you’re a guest and Mum sent me in to check on things. She’d kill me if she thought I’d let you do the cooking. I’m Bill, by the way. You must be Christy.’

Christy failed to suppress the gasp that sprang to her lips. Half Bill’s face had been clawed away. A mass of pink and white scar tissue, unadorned by a single freckle, held together the remnants of his handsome countenance. When she saw his eyes flicker and his mouth stiffen, cold fingers of shame crept over her. She could have gouged her own eyes out and glued her lips together.

‘It’s… it’s a pleasure to meet you,’ she stammered, feeling herself grow hot under his gaze. ‘I’m sorry, I…’

‘Don’t worry,’ he told her evenly. ‘However much they warn you, it must still be a shock.’

‘No one warned me,’ she said in a small voice.

He lifted an eyebrow. ‘Ah.’

‘I’m sorry,’ she repeated.

‘It’s fine,’ Bill assured her. ‘Pass me that cloth, would you?’

Christy handed him the towel and watched him take out a tray of roasting potatoes which he shook a couple of times to coat them in the oil, before putting them back on a higher shelf.

‘Now,’ said Bill, when he’d wiped his hands. ‘You’d better have a drink. What can I get you? There’s a jug of cloudberry Pimms outside, if you fancy that?’

Before Christy could answer, a small boy erupted into the room, dragging a broomstick that was clearly too large for him. He made straight for Bill, addressing him in a long stream of rapid French that Christy couldn’t follow. Bill waited for the boy to finish, his face growing more and more amused. Then he shot back a question, which prompted another torrent of highly excited French accompanied with all kinds of gesturing from the child.

Eventually Bill laughed and ruffled the boy’s hair. Then he said something and turned the boy to face Christy.

‘Hello,’ said the child. He had the most brilliant blonde hair Christy had ever seen. With his sea-blue eyes, it made an arresting combination.

‘Hello,’ Christy replied.

Bill murmured something into the boy’s ear. ‘I’m Henri,’ the child announced. ‘I’m five.’

‘Hello Henri. I’m Christy.’

‘You didn’t say how old you are,’ pointed out Henri.

Bill looked apologetically at Christy. ‘Sorry. It was his birthday a few weeks ago and now he’s obsessed with knowing how old everyone is.’

‘Ah. Well, Henri, I’m thirty-five.’

Henri nodded earnestly. ‘That’s the same as Uncle Percy.’

‘Quite right,’ Bill confirmed.

‘Papa’s going to be forty soon,’ Henri told her in a conspiratorial whisper.

Papa. Well, she’d guessed that already. But - she tilted her head to check - no, Bill definitely wasn’t wearing a wedding ring. Divorced, then. Maybe it had been the scars.

Bill had lifted the boy up and settled him comfortably on his hip. ‘That’s right, Henri,’ he was grumbling. ‘Give all my secrets away, why don’t you?’

‘Papa?’

‘What is it, trouble?’

‘Will you come and throw the Quaffle for me?’

Bill tugged his son’s hair teasingly. ‘Isn’t your Uncle Ron outside? He can throw for you.’

Henri buried his face in his father’s neck and mumbled something incoherent.

‘Yes, I know, but I’m talking to Christy now. You go on out and we’ll be there in a few minutes.’

Bill set the child down and Henri reluctantly uncurled his arms from round his father’s neck. Bill handed him the broom and Christy watched as the small boy made his way through the cluttered room.

‘He’s adorable.’

Bill shot her a brief glance. ‘He takes after his mother like that.’

Oh. Christy’s eyes followed where Bill was pointing out of the window. A woman with the same white-blonde hair as Henri was nursing a baby. For the second time that day, Christy found her breath taken away.

‘She’s beautiful,’ Christy whispered to herself.

‘Yes, she is,’ Bill agreed in some amusement.

‘You don’t wear a wedding ring,’ she blurted out.

He blinked in surprise. ‘No. Jewellery’s not a good idea in my line of work.’

Oh. ‘It’s just that, at home people wear rings. If they’re married, I mean.’ Oh God, she was blushing again.

Bill nodded kindly. ‘Of course. Lots of wizards here don’t. Just so you know.’

Christy wondered if he could see her squirming.

‘Come on.’ He took her arm. ‘I think you’d better have that drink now.’

Comments

[stmargarets.livejournal.com]

Christy likes to put her foot in - doesn't she? That's not a bad thing - it's rather endearing. I liked the description of the Burrow and the nagging stove clock. I could use one of those when I get distracted.

I was worried you had killed off Fleur for a moment - but all is well with the Bill Weasley family. Lovely description of the children.

Where is Charlie hiding? Can't wait to see him.

[girlyswot.livejournal.com]

Thanks, Mary. I think 'Christy-putting-her-foot-in-it' is me when I moved to the States. There are just so many small cultural differences and social signals that you don't pick up on. I felt like I spent months putting my foot in it all over the place, and even now I still feel slightly like I'm walking on eggshells when I meet new people.

I enjoyed writing Bill as a dad, especially when I worked out that I didn't have to write Fleur, except in the distance.

Oh, there'll be Charlie, and there'll be dragons, don't you worry! But there may have to be a certain pair of twins first.

[tdu000.livejournal.com]

Poor Christy! If she embarasses herself with Bill, how is she ever going to cope with Fred and George? I think you did a great job with Bill's cars and Christy's reaction to them. I'm glad Bill still gets to be gorgeous! I also enjoyed Christy's reaction to Ron's comment - she thought he was setting her up when really Ron was just stating a fact :she'd like Bill because everyone *does* like Bill.

Now leave all that dry academic stuff be and get on with the next chapter - I'm getting impatient to read your Charlie chapter!

[girlyswot.livejournal.com]

How is she going to cope with Fred and George? *grins*

Bill definitely still gets to be gorgeous. And yes, Christy's reaction to Ron's comment says a lot more about her state of mind than it does about Ron or Bill. Maybe she does need a fling with an English redhead, after all?!

You have no idea how tempting it is to 'leave all the dry academic stuff be' at the moment. I have so many things piled up and no idea when I'm going to finish anything. Writing this is a blessed escape. Writing my WIP at Phoenix Song, on the other hand, is getting harder and harder work and I'm feeling more and more guilty about that. Hmm.

[tdu000.livejournal.com]

Well you've always got Project Crumpet as light relief. If it all gets too much you can extend Charlie to several chapters - you'll get quite a few happy readers I'm sure.

Charl-ie! Char-lie! Char-ie!

[grandma-kate.livejournal.com]

So many brothers, so little time!

Your Christy is growing on me and I definitely like Bill and Henri. The nagging stove is fun.

Re: Charl-ie! Char-lie! Char-ie!

[girlyswot.livejournal.com]

I'm glad you liked Bill and Henri - they were fun to write. And Christy's not a bad sort, really. She's just had a lot to deal with lately, with losing her Mom and breaking up with Mike and moving to England. Not to mention meeting all these Weasleys...

And, yes, there'll be Charlie soon enough!

[crumplehornedki.livejournal.com]

Oh I can so see Christy getting confused and thinking Charlie is attached with the no wedding ring thing.

Can I add a complaint? It was too short!!!!! I'm really enjoying this look at the Weasley men you are doing a great job.

Nice touches with the description of the Burrow, I can so see an uptight American being overwhelmed by all that is in the very busy loving family home.

[girlyswot.livejournal.com]

Yes, I know this chapter was quite short, but it was either that or nothing! Life's pretty hectic at the moment and I don't have a whole lot of writing time at all. But this story's so fun and easy that it's becoming my preferred way of relaxing.

overwhelmed, you say? You haven't seen anything yet!

[moonette1.livejournal.com]

*sigh*

Oh, I loved this. Bill was so sweet and understated about the whole scar thing and Henri's question and Fleur's beauty. That's so very Bill. And he was very masculine in this. Spot on for me. There's only one thing Christy got terribly wrong - how could she assume the scars were the reason for Bill's lack of a wedding ring? Doesn't she know scars work the opposite way on manly men? I'll have to have a talk with her and set her straight.

But seriously, seeing Bill as a father was very nice and VERY crumpet for me. And I loved the last line - I love it when men take charge.

Well done, girlyswot! And hooray for an excuse to use my Bill icon!

[girlyswot.livejournal.com]

LOL - I think you could probably set Christy right on lots of things, including the effect of manly scars on otherwise sensible women.

I'm glad you liked Bill in this. He was such fun to write - the crumpet just oozes out of him. And I'm completely with you on men who take charge and men who are dads.

[rdprice29.livejournal.com]

OMG! Poor Christy! What a fish out of water, but I'm really enjoying reading her interactions with all the Weasley men. I love how Henri blares French at Bill and he understands enough to talk back to him. Seems Fleur might have slipped in a few French lessons among all those Eenglish lessons! ;) Great job!

[girlyswot.livejournal.com]

Yes, poor Christy. It's hard being in a new culture and not being able to recognise all the normal social cues. My guess is that Bill will learn French along with his children, so he'll always be able to talk to them in both languages.