Honey Springtime

With summer’s blessing shining high in the cloudless sea of periwinkle blue, the world seemed all the more bright and welcoming that fine, temperate morning. Though it had started off chilly as a result of the wind carrying the low temperature off of the River Otter. Nevertheless, when the night’s overcast greys split overhead, that chill wore off and it actually began to be a shade too warm for the village folk bustling through Sunday’s market place in Ottery Square trying to get the perfect cut of lamb and the roundest, fullest vegetables for what their coin could provide. The church bells were tolling and those who had already bought their supplies flocked there to listen to the service before resuming their shop or heading home or even hanging back to speak with the vicar. The whole village was awash with feverish activity that was rampant and exciting but at the same time still relaxing as it was still Ottery St. Catchpole and, thankfully, very little mischief was gotten up to whilst there.

That morning, Cordella had slipped out from underneath Gisele, much to her chagrin, I assure you, and had donned a t-shirt and fished a pair of trousers out of the washing before sliding her feet into her shoes and grabbing her wallet. Then, she too joined the fray in the village and bought an array of things from fresh vegetables to seeds of her own and a side of beef which she intended to slow roast for Gisele. Once she was back in their cottage, tucked away amongst the heather and the fresh, wild flowers, Cordella divested herself of her shoes and her shirt and started up the frying pan which she intended to use to get some scrambled eggs together. Cordella was determined to spoil her wife because she knew every day that without Gisele she’d have nothing and she’d still be in that hole of an Azkaban cell awaiting whatever fine fate the higher powers had for her. She certainly had a lot of people to thank for the way she was living life now.

Once the eggs were underway, Della put the meat and the vegetables into the fridge and out of the sunshine quickly before returning to the pan, half wishing she’d done the eggs in the microwave. Regardless, the bacon went on quite quickly thereafter and she began to toast some bread under the grill before going in search of the all-important apricot jam. It was just as she sourced it from the back of the fridge that she heard the floorboards above her head shift a little bit – signalling that Gisele had gotten up. Della grinned and with the jam, out came the orange juice which she poured out into two glasses before flicking on the kettle. Then she returned to the eggs and worried over the bacon but that wasn’t to say that she wasn’t ready by the time her wife appeared at the bottom of the stairs.

“Good morning, beautiful,” Della grinned, leaving the stove to greet her wife.

Cordella’s hands snaked up Gisele’s silhouette and her hands curled underneath her chin as she covered Gisele’s mouth with her own. A short but no less passionate kiss later and Della found herself peppering them across Gisele’s face.

“You. Are. Radiant. Alright?” Cordella exclaimed, combing her fingers through Gis’s hair. “Please, please, please tell me you’re hungry… we’ve got the works.”

Gisele Delacour-Quinn's belly was ballooning rapidly, the signs that had once been so subtle were now unavoidable to anyone who laid eyes on her. The veela had never been a twig but now her curves were taking full form, the plumpness around her hips, chest, and stomach reveling in her new lifestyle. Marriage had been good to Gisele. Her wife was doting beyond reason, filling her to bursting with food and love at all hours of the day and night.

The couple had purchased a small cottage in the English countryside with money pulled from Gisele's inheritance. Gabrielle hadn't quite forgiven her only daughter for marrying another woman, much less one whose name carried no weight. But, luckily for the newlyweds, the Delacours lacked the cruelty that they had seen many other families possess and Gabrielle chose to tolerate their union rather than disowning her daughter completely.

Regardless, Gisele and Cordella had retreated into their own little world, occasionally popping out long enough to catch sight of their closest neighbors, the Weasleys or Lovegoods. They had been called on a surprising amount by Aunt Fleur when Bill visited the rest of the family at Weasley House. It gave Gisele an extra excuse to be domestic, pulling out her kettle and having the brooms sweep with the expectation of company.

Summer seemed to come sooner in the country than it had at school. Cordella had been out in the garden for weeks and Gisele was more and happy to putter around the house, venturing outside to inspect her wife's vegetable patch or take a walk into town. She had found work as a substitute in the muggle primary school, leaving most days free but a sense of purpose that she had lost after dropped out of Hogwarts.

The children could be little shits but she enjoyed it all the same. It was strange to teach muggle history and on several occasions she had had to catch her tongue before she mentioned the Russian Ogre Wars. Gisele had already been inquiring with the principle and was planning on applying to a more permanent position for the next fall term. They had discussed it and Della's work would allow her to stay home with their son.

The son that was currently starving.

Gisele woke on her back, a new position that she had been gradually becoming more fond of. She was clad in her underwear and a white button-down shirt that had rumpled after a night of use. The spring air brought goosebumps to her legs as she slipped out from under the covers but the smell of food overpowered her fear of the cold and she only pulled on a pair of wool socks before trotting down the stairs to the kitchen.

Della met her where she stood, greeting her in the best way possible. Gisele giggled as kisses caressed her face and nodded eagerly at her wife's offer. "Yes, please." she smiled as her eyes drifted to the impressive spread that her chef of a wife had prepared for them. Gisele had taken the saying 'eating for two' to heart, indulging in everything she had never used to permit herself. Salad's were a distant memory - cakes were the new order of the day.

Gisele had discovered a passion for baking and was constantly littering the kitchen with flour and cupcake tins (not to mention stocking their cookie jars past capacity). By the time their son had been born there was a good chance that the veela would need to be lifted from the house by magic. Gisele stole another kiss before asking, "Do you need any help?" It was clear that she had overslept the majority of the assembly process and felt slightly guilty for leaving it all to Della, no matter how capable she might be.

And there she was, the one that made it all worth it. The one who had made Cordella fight, even when she was sure it was all over, finished and done. Gisele Delacour was, and would remain forever, the only person in the world that could find the light for Cordella in all of the darkness that there was surrounding her world. Dumbledore had always said there was hope in times that seemed devoid of it and even in good times, Gisele was Cordella’s light, her flickering candle in the dead of night. There would never be anyone else. To entertain that made her heart clench painfully in her chest. Gisele was it. Not everyone got given that gift in life.

“Do I need help?” Cordella mumbled against her wife’s lips, a smile curling at her own. “I do, I really do. Because I’m sick with love for you. It’s deadlier than Dragon Pox, I promise.” Cordella laughed a little, her hands clasping together behind her wife’s back, the little creature so intricate and so perfect growing between them still not big enough to keep one mother away from the other. Cordella could still wind her long arms around Gisele but she knew that soon she’d have to start getting creative and she wasn’t entirely sure who was more concerned about that – herself or Gisele. Probably Gisele.

“However,” Cordella added after a moment, “I can live without you helping me because today is about you. I am going to feed you and we can go on a walk and we can just… I don’t know. Do whatever you like because I just wanna spend a little time with you. All day. Every day. Forever. Is that feasible?”

Cordella smiled and curled a lock of hair behind her wife’s ear before extricating herself and returning to finish up the breakfast. Then it was being spread across their dinner table, a platter of all of the things that Cordella knew how to cook – but bear in mind it probably ended about there realistically, though she tried anyway because, after all, who wouldn’t with a wife to impress?

“Eat up, eat up,” Cordella stressed, grinning, plucking a bit of toast out of the rack before plopping down into a chair. “I bet he’s starving, huh?”