My Husband's Scars

by Excessivelyperky, viciously assaulted by a one-shot. I cannot do French dialect for toffee, and pretty much don't want to anyway.

People think the veela-kind are shallow. So we are, but never about anything important. I still cannot believe that wretched woman thought I would reject her son because of a few scars. After all, we are to be the beautiful ones! I should never marry a man more attractive than myself. Just because she was once attracted by one of us before, she thinks we are all as easily led. Pfft! I will admit that Mr. Lockhart's ancestry would be difficult to prove now his memory is quite gone and only slowly returning, but I suspect consultation with a few English veela would provide the necessary information. The Malfoys, for instance…

Bill is still the man I love, even with a ruined face. In a way, I shall shine all the more brightly with him for contrast. And he is, after all, a Weasley. Those of my kind often long for children they cannot have, but that will be no problem with him in my bed. I and my sister only exist because Mama took a Muggle for a lover. I should have to do the same without the humanity in my blood.

As for his scars, they are not important. In fact, I would find their absence disturbing now. You see, I have noticed that the brave Professor Lupin has none himself.

Full werewolves heal quickly.

And so I love my husband's scars.