If Fleur had thought, when she first starting associating with Bill, that the Weasleys were a bigger than average family, then one of her good friends had been quick to prove her wrong. Brita, one of Fleur’s saving graces in the grey bleakness that was Britain, had endless relatives that always seemed to be popping up all over the place. Frida was one of those relatives. And instead of just meeting briefly, the two witches had gotten along. And so a friendship began to form.
Sure, Fleur could be rather snobbish and vain and condescending, and she was trying to be better but it would still sometimes just pop out. But Frida was such a happy-go-lucky, enthusiastic person that the friendship stuck. Although sometimes Fleur just wanted to complain without someone trying to see the positives. Optimism was all well and good but how could anything improve without some well thought and articulated criticism?
But, she had been very happy to hear from Frida when her owl came. They were both two busy witches, even if Frida’s business was decidedly more grown-up than Fleur’s. Imagine, talking to people all day that had a lot more to say than imitating the ‘clang, clang, clang’ from the Hopping Pot. Fleur imagined that Frida also didn’t get woken up most mornings to being crawled over and drooled on. She wouldn’t change Victoire for anything, but sometimes it was nice to talk to someone her own age!
And go somewhere without worrying about proximity to toilets and things to do and nap times!
Fleur had read about Deja Brew in the newspaper when it opened, but had not yet had the chance to visit. She tried to avoid bringing Victoire to Diagon Alley unless she absolutely could not help it. And, on those visits, there really wasn’t time to sit down in a cafe. But there was time today. Victoire was with Bill, although she had received numerous babysitting offers from others the second she had mentioned coffee plans. Fleur was wearing clean clothing and had made sure her face and hair were their usual immaculate selves before leaving. Merlin, it felt good to feel veela.
Entering Deja Brew, Fleur had to admit that the owner had done well. The cafe was airy and bright, a contrast to the darkening skies outside, and the hodge-podge collection of furniture managed to look more eclectic than ‘oh look this person raided a landfill’. She had a few suggestions if anyone asked, or for when she spoke to a staff member, but on the whole it was pleasant.
Fleur heard Frida’s enthusiastic voice before she had properly looked around for her. Smiling and returning the hug, although it was awkward with her expanded midriff, Fleur gratefully eased herself down on the seat. It was comfortable, but a few more cushions wouldn’t hurt. “Bonjour Frida,” she greeted in return. “It is good to see you too!”
“I am bonne, although I look forward to the baby being born. I feel so big right now!” Fleur appreciated the wonder of pregnancy. She did. But did it have to come with such a toll on her body? And Frida looked so thin and graceful in comparison right now.
“Bill has Victoire,” Fleur continued merrily, “so we can talk a lot! You went dress shopping, yes?” Wedding dresses were up there on the topics of conversation Fleur enjoyed. Her only grievance was that she had not gone along dress shopping with them and so had not been able to give her opinion first hand. The Tricketts could have benefited from it. Everyone could benefit from it.
