note: There is a longer note at the end of this. For now, just sit and read. Best with hot chocolate.

Stella's socks were slipping.

She could feel her thigh-high white socks sliding slowly down her ankle, and it was driving her crazy. Nonetheless, she continued to kick the dresser drawers with the backs of her heels. She wasn't in the mood the fix them. Leaning her head back against the mirror that was attached to the dresser, she blew a piece of hair out of her face.

There were loud voices downstairs, laughter and music floating up to the second floor in a muffled cacophony of noise. If she strained hard enough, she could hear some people's individual voices – like Lily's, always the life and soul of the party. She had escaped for a minute to catch her breath, but it seemed her minute had quickly turned to ten, judging from the digital clock that rested on the nighttable across from the dresser.

The doorknob turned slowly, and Stella turned her head to watch it open with disinterest. In stepped Louis Weasley, in a button down blue shirt and jeans.

He gave her a grin as he shut the door behind him and leaned against it. "What're you doing up here? I don't remember giving you permission to hang out in my room alone," he teased.

Stella gave him a smile in return. "Imagine what your mum would say – a girl alone in your bedroom! Because that's never happened before." She turned her head back to lean against the mirror, chin raised high to the ceiling. "Needed a breather, I guess."

"Ah, I see," Louis said, crossing his arms in front of him. "Understandable. Predictable, actually. That's why I came up here in the first place – I figured this is where you might be."

Stella scrunched her nose at him. "My goodness. Its almost like we've been friends for eight years."

Louis gave a bark of laughter in retort. "Almost like that."

They'd been friends for eight years no doubt, sharing the same group of friends throughout Hogwarts and sharing a dorm room floor at London's University for Witchcraft and Wizardry. It was an easy friendship, relaxed and comfortable, which was more than what Stella could say for some of her other friendships.

"Excited to go back?" Louis asked, running a hand through his hair. "It's been strange not having you there all summer."

Stella licked her lips before replying, measuring her words carefully. "I'm not really sure if uni is my thing. I didn't enroll for second year."

Louis' arms dropped to his side. "What do you mean you didn't enroll for second year?" His eyes held shock, and Stella thought she saw traces of betrayal in his expression.

"I'm sorry, Lou, but it just really wasn't for me – you know that. I spent more nights panicking than I did studying."

"But that was because of your professors. It'll be different this year, you'll see," Louis shook his head. "C'mon. This is the only time in our lives we'll be able to go to uni and experience all this. Don't miss out."

Stella blew the strand of hair out of her face again. "I'm not missing out. I'm not like you, I can't just waste my time doing something I hate when I'm not even sure what I want to do for the rest of my life."

Louis folded his arms once more. "Oh," he said, "so I'm wasting my time?"

"No!" Stella cried, "I didn't mean it like that!"

"Then how did you mean it?"

"I don't know," Stella replied, fumbling for her words, "you're, I don't know, more confident than I am. I just think I need a break from school." She forced a small smile and tapped the side of her head. "This brain's getting a bit overloaded."

"Well, if that's how you feel, fine," Louis said, sighing in defeat. "It won't be the same without you. Now, c'mon, come back down to the party. People are going to start to wonder." He threw her a wink. Stella rolled her eyes in response.

"Oh, shut it. I'm coming." She jumped off the dresser, straightening her dress. Glancing down, she decided to leave her socks bunched at her ankles. Louis held out his arm, and she placed her hand in the crook, taking a deep breath before heading downstairs into the chaos once more.

Stella jumped down on the last step. Surveying the crowd, she removed her hand from Louis' arm and slowly made her way through the crowds of people towards the kitchen table. Rose and Albus were there, Rose perched on top and Al standing beside her, leaning against the edge with his arms crossed.

They were strange, Stella had decided awhile ago. Not strange in a bad way, but just sort of quirky. They were funny though, and very kind, and Stella always got on well with them.

Like now, as she approached, Rose gave her a grin. "Haven't seen you for awhile – thought you might have disappeared," she said, swinging her legs back and forth.

Stella gave a small shrug in her return. "Needed break, yknow – lots of people here."

Al rolled his eyes. "Story of my friggin' life."

Stella laughed. Al's dry humour was one of the best things about him.

"I'd be more inclined to use 'pathetic', myself, but whatever floats your boat," Rose replied, casually, not missing a beat. Stella giggled even harder. Albus turned to Rose, a look of mock surprise on his face. Rose grinned and pulled him to stand in front of her, wrapping her arms around the front of his neck and letting her arms dangle on his chest. Resting her chin on his shoulder, she turned her attention to Stella once more.

"Are you going back to uni next week, Stell?"

Stella shook her head. "No, actually, I'm looking for work right now. I decided not to go back for this year."

"Any particular reason?"

"Not really. I just didn't love it."

Rose looked at her with clear blue eyes, nodding her head. "Good for you – to know what you don't want and to not do it." She snorted. "Some of the rest of us are floundering around and still don't have a clue.

Stella liked that about Rose. She liked that, even though she knew she was borderline genius, Rose didn't rub it in people's faces. She didn't make others feel lesser. She was transparent when it came to her shortfallings.

"I guess so." Stella took a breath, trying to be brave and honest, like Rose. "I'm – scared, I guess."

Al shook his head. "Don't worry about it, Stell. Failure's a part of the game. "

She looked up and met Al's grass green eyes, honest and relaxed.

"Look at Lily," Rose said suddenly, lifting her head off Al's shoulder and lowering her voice – not that she needed to in a house full of loud music and loud people. Nonetheless, Stella and Albus leaned closer to hear her. "Look at her with Max – I swear she still loves him."

Albus rolled his eyes. "Stop talking about my sister's love life, it gives me the creeps," he said. "She's supposed to be, like, twelve."

"Excuse me, she's my age," Stella retorted.

"Oh, yeah – I forgot," Albus grinned sheepishly.

"She just touched his arm again – that was the third time in the span of less than a minute. She totally loves him. I don't care what comes out of her liar mouth," Rose kept going, ignoring Albus and Stella. "Y'know, she's so brave about everything else, you think she'd be brave enough to tell me she still has a crush on the guy she's liked since she was fourteen."

Stella cleared her throat. "Just a question, but are you guys ever not in each other's business?" She tried to make it sound a genuine as possible – she really was not trying to come across as rude.

Rose and Albus looked at each other and shrugged. "Not really."

Stella turned away to hide her smile.

Turning the doorknob to Louis' dorm, Stella stepped into the tiny room. Kicking a spare sock out of the way, she looked up to meet Louis' eyes.

He gave her a lazy grin from his position on the bed. He was reading a book, his legs propped up and one hand behind his head. "Was wondering when you'd get here. You were supposed to be here a half hour ago."

"Sorry," Stella replied, pushing her hair out of her face and sitting down in the office chair at his desk. "My boss wanted me to stay fifteen minutes after to fill out some form or another."

Louis shrugged. "No big." He snapped his book shut, and sat up. "Want to go out? It's Saturday night and you've been working like crazy."

She twirled around in the office chair, spinning it around with her feet. "Sure," she said, "sounds like fun. Where are we going?"

"We could go to the club. Or we could go out to eat with a few people from my floor. Mostly people we lived with last year."

Stella stopped twirling. "Dinner! Please? I want to see everybody."

He laughed, beginning to twirl her chair again with his foot. "Sure, get your coat. They said they were meeting at eight."

One thing Stella missed about uni was nights on campus. They walked slowly to the restaurant, which was a few blocks from Louis' dorm. The sky was dark and the air was cool, but there was warm light coming from dining areas and cafes. People bustled around them, moving quickly and bundled in warm jackets and scarves. They laughed and chatted, moving in sync with one another. Stella loved watching. She didn't even realize they were at the restaurant until Louis tugged on her arm to bring her through an old oak door.

The lighting was dim as they stepped in, with low fixtures. The wooden beams and cozy furniture gave the place a rustic feel. A fire greeted them in the front entrance, and a hostess was standing by. Louis gave her their information, and the hostess gave him directions to their table. Louis led Stella to a long wooden table that had all her uni friends sat around it.

They welcomed the duo with open arms. One girl in particular Stella was happy to see. Ellis was a tall girl with wavy hair and a friendly smile. She had been Stella's roommate in the past year, and Stella had missed her greatly over the summer.

Now, the two girls squealed as they were reunited. "Oh, I'm so glad to see you," Ellis gushed, rocking back and forth with Stella in her arms. "Stand back, I want to get a good look at you." She held Stella by her shoulders, surveying her up and down. "Gorgeous, as always," she said as Stella giggled.

Louis pulled out a chair for her inbetween him and Ellis, and between them, Stella had the best night she had had in a long while. The conversation flowed easily between the group of friends, food being shared and laughs being had.

"Where's Lily?" Max asked. He was seated in front of them, and popped a fry in his mouth as he spoke.

"Not sure, actually," Louis commented, "I haven't heard from her in a day or so. She must be at the dorm, studying."

Ellis leaned over Stella, her hair falling in her face as she laughed. "Lily? Studying? Get real, Louis."

Max cracked a grin. "Touche. She's probably at a club."

"What's got you so interested anyway?" Payton asked from beside Max. She was Max's twin and a vivacious blonde with a lot of spunk, who also happened to be one of Lily's best friends. "Go away," Max replied, swatting his sister out of the way.

This is what Stella missed – the community and the friends she had made here. She often looked back and wondered if her choice to leave was the right one.

Halfway during her soup, Ellis leaned in and whispered in her ear, "do you know what, I'll tell you something. I do believe you have a grade school crush on Mr. Weasley."

Stella felt her cheeks grow hot and ducked her head, whispering fiercely at Ellis, "no, I do not. We're friends, always have been friends."

Ellis snorted. "Except for that year you dated, of course."

Making sure that Louis was still immersed in his meal and his conversation with Max, that forks were still clanging with plates, she turned back to Ellis. "We were fifteen. It was for nine months, I really don't think it counts. We were kids. I wore bottom eyeliner like it was going of stock next Tuesday. We were hormonal."

The black girl stared at Stella before raising her eyebrows. "I counted only five excuses. Do you have any more?"

"Besides," Stella said, twirling her spoon around in her soup, "even if I did, it would make me look so pathetic. So pathetic."

"Honey, only if he didn't like you back."

"Thanks, Ell." Stella rolled her eyes. "But it's true, you know it is."

"Like I said. You'd only look pathetic if he didn't like you back. And do you know something, I'll tell you what. I think you got a real shot here."

Stella shook her head and tried to push the conversation out of her head because there was no point in dwelling on something as fickle as this would be.

After their meal had been had, Louis silently slid his mobile in front of Stella. On the screen was a text from James, prompting him to come over to his apartment. She looked up to meet Louis' eyes and nodded her head. "Sure," she said quietly. Almost as soon as the words were out of her mouth, Louis pushed his chair back. "All right, we're off for the night."

The group protested as the duo stood up, but they said goodbyes and made promises to share another meal together soon. Stella gave Ellis a last hug. Exiting the restaurant, they stepped out into the bustling night.

"Should we walk?" Louis asked. "Or we can go back to the dorm to pick up my car." Stella shook her head. "Nah, let's walk."

"Did you enjoy yourself tonight?" Louis asked, as they set off. Stella looked up at him, nodding her head eagerly.

"I really need to come and see you guys more often. I forgot how much I missed you all."

Louis grinned. "We miss you, too." After a short pause, he asked if she was painting anything new.

"Not really," she replied, breathing deep in her nose and letting the fog come out of her mouth like steam, "I haven't really had any inspiration lately."

Louis put his hands behind his back, half-grinning in a boy-ish way. "Y'know," he said, "I always found inspiration best came when I was doing things that I loved."

Stella laughed. "Inspiration for what? You don't paint."

He shrugged in return. "Inspiration for getting out of bed in the morning, I guess." He paused. "Thanks for coming with me to see my family. I know how much fun you were having."

Stella shrugged. "No big deal, I love your cousins, you know that."

"They're a rowdy bunch of idiots."

"But you love them."

Louis shook his head, grinning. "More than anything."

They reached the lobby of James' apartment and rode the top to the seventh floor. Louis fished out a key from his pocket and entered, holding the door open for Stella.

She had only been to James' once, because Lily had forgot her sweater and stopped by to pick it up. It had seemed smaller then, for some reason, when it was empty.

Louis threw his coat onto the rack as he easily made his way into the kitchen area, where Albus was stirring something on the stove.

Stella took the opportunity to look more fully around the small apartment she had just entered. James was lounging on the couch, feet on the floor in front of him and a beer in his hand as he watched the football game on the telly. Fred was next to him in much the same position. Rose was on the loveseat, buried underneath a white duvet, apparently fast asleep. Lily and Hugo were lying on the floor in front of the telly , reading books. That solved the mystery of where Lily was on a Saturday night, Stella mused.

Roxanne was sitting at the kitchen table, nose buried deep in her textbooks, a pencil wrapped up in her wild hair. She was holding her head in stress, breathing out in a frustrated way as she flipped through her book rapidly. Molly and Lucy were sitting at the other end of the table playing a card game.

Fred looked up from the telly. "Hey, what's she doing here? Potters and Weasleys only."

Stella began to stammer, but Louis cut in from the kitchen, "Shut up, Weasley, she's welcome."

Fred eyed her up and down, finally grinning. "Just joking with you, Stell, I think you're the bee's knees. But don't tell people what we actually do on a Saturday night – we have a reputation to uphold, yknow. We have to seem cool."

Walking into the kitchen, Stella called back, "I will. I expect payment for keeping quiet, however. Cash will do." She heard Fred's bark of laughter and grinned.

The door burst open and Dominque stormed in, blonde hair flying and her bag thumping against her leg. She dropped it by the main entrance and let papers spill out. Throwing herself down next to James, she buried her head in his shoulder and refused to look up.

Stella looked at Louis for an explanation. "That's just Dom," he offered. "She's just having a rough day, I s'pose."

Dominique lifted her head from James' shoulder and looked him square in the eyes before taking the beer out of his hand and taking a long sip. James brushed a lock of hair from her eyes, and took the beer back from her, silent as a mouse. She then stood up and pushed Rose closer into the couch, and crawled next to her under the duvet, closing her eyes and apparently falling asleep as well.

Here was thing about this moment in time, this piece of reality – Stella wanted to soak it into her skin, to feel it so intensely it burned her bones. She wanted to gather up all the pieces of human, all the bits of love and joy and of comfort and familiarity and feel them to the point of collapse. To submerge herself in the room and she wanted to paint how she felt right at this very moment but there might not be enough colours for love, and she supposed there might not be enough words, either. There were never enough words.

Stella breathed deep in through her nose and out again, moving deeper into the kitchen. Louis was standing at the stove with Albus, who was stirring the pot. His forearms rested on the counter as he chatted slowly with Albus, the words coming out like honey. Stella's heart was bursting in her chest for these people, for their tiny piece of home on a Saturday night, and looking at Louis now made her remember the words of Ellis at the restaurant. She craved, in that moment like she never had before, the touch of another human being. And so she made her way to her friend and circled his waist with her arms, laid her cheek between his shoulder blades, felt the warmth of him seep into her skin.

His reaction was slow, as though he wasn't sure of what was happening, but he rested his arms on top of hers and tangled their fingers together, and he continued his conversation with Al, and Stella could feel his words in her ears but she couldn't hear them.

Albus turned the stovetop off and placed the pot of soup (more soup, was it a symbol or a coincidence? Stella thought, but then shook herself for ever thinking soup could be a symbol for anything) and walked into the living room. Stella released Louis and leaned on the doorframe entrance to the living room.

Dominique woke up first, quickly, blonde hair rumpled. She pulled the duvet off of herself and then she pulled it off Rose, who slept on. Dominique wrapped it around herself and made her way to the kitchen table and sat down wordlessly. Albus knelt down beside Rose, and shook her awake. Lily and Hugo marked their pages and helped each other stand, and the telly turned off, and people moved to the kitchen and bowls were set out and soup was poured and –

Stella could not ever have imagined so much rhythm in one place.

Dinner was a calm, steady affair, with lots of crescendos. Mostly James would rile up Fred or Dominique, or Lily, and Lucy would hush them, or Rose, who looked as though she was falling ill. Stella liked to watch Louis laugh, he had a nice, deep laugh, that was authentic and it made her want to laugh, too. Arms were jostled and soup was spilled. It felt as though to she was looking at everything through slow motion, like marmalade was being poured over the kitchen, her bones feeling heavy in the best way and her head riddled with a welcoming emptiness.

She studied Louis' shoulder for a moment, the roundness of it, the strength of it, the skin that stretched smoothly over muscle and covered by dark blue cotton. She thought she could stay here forever, with this family, with him.

In a moment she wanted it more than anything in the world and for the first time, that thought did not scare her.

Stella kicked off the thick duvet, letting her feet rest on the cold floor. It was Saturday today, which meant that she didn't have to go to work, which was nice. Her job as a secretary for the fourth floor at St Mungo's was easy and steady, and the days passed by with comforting routine, but she was grateful for the day off.

She looked around her large room, the grand oak dresser and the fine hangings around her bed. The clock read 9am. Listening intently, she heard no sounds coming from downstairs – the house was empty, as usual.

Sliding out the door, Stella decided to make herself breakfast. Passing a side table on the way down to the kitchen, she picked up the half empty glass of Firewhiskey and put it in the sink. She wasn't sure how long her father had left it there, but she was willing to bet a few days. She had been spending more of her free time with the Weasleys, and coming home to her house had let her see it with fresh eyes.

It was quiet, at her house.

There was a note stuck to the fridge written by her mother "I've gone out to visit Astoria, darling, won't be back til late. Have a wonderful day, Mum xx". Stella sighed and threw the note in the trash, and got started on her breakfast. Scrambling eggs at the stove, she looked around the house and made a mental list of all the things she had to do today. The house looked like a disaster – to the outsider, everything was in place, but there was dust everywhere. It did not look lived in at all.

Stella finished her breakfast and washed her plate slowly, letting the soapy bubbles soak up to her elbows and warm her hands, and then she got down to the real business of cleaning.

She dusted every inch of the house. She vacuumed like a madwoman. She scrubbed, she soaked, and she fluffed all the pillows. She put the dishes away and she washed her sheets and her clothes, and she was finished at approximately six o'clock that evening. She made her way from the fourth floor to the second, where she lit a fire with her wand and started to read her book.

The quietness stilled her.

She was comfortable here. There used to be days when her parents would fight, big loud screaming matches, and Stella would retreat to her room and cover her ears with her pillow. It was worse when her dad had been drinking, of course, and there were crashes of broken glass and loud sobbing. And as she got older, her parents dealt with their differences by just not spending time together. It wasn't ideal. But it was better than yelling, she supposed. Anything was better than that.

Slamming her book shut, Stella sighed. It was not captivating her attention at all. Grabbing her paint supplies, she set up her easel and began to paint, using the fire as her light.

She dipped the paint in a glorious blue colour, dragging it across the white and feeling the softness of the paint and brush underneath her hand. She thought of Louis and the Weasley/Potters as she swirled her brush around the empty canvas.

note: me again. I feel like there's some things we need to address before we go on. First of all, I tried to write a Stella/Louis before and I gave up on it. If you read that one, please disregard it. Pretend it never happened. This is the story of Stella and Louis. If you didn't read it, then forget what I just said. Secondly, there will be lots more "Muggle" things in this story. I like to think that they made great leaps in technology and modernism when it came to the Wizarding World. You don't have to agree, it's not a big deal. If it annoys you, I'm sorry! Thirdly, I wanted to post this when I had the whole thing finished, but I couldn't wait. I do have a good chunk of it written, though, so expect an update soon. It will be fairly short, maybe only three or four chapters.

This was disgustingly long, I'm sorry. I hope you come to love Stella and Louis like I do. Many thanks for reading!