How High the Moon

.ψ.

Chapter Twenty Five: Her Guitar

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Holding your breath, taking a step
Can be a little scary
Hearing a voice, making a choice
Can be so overwhelming
Here we go, hold on tight
You never know unless you try
The road that leads to life can be
A place that only your heart can see

Leave your eyes behind
Leave your eyes behind
Seek and you will find
Leave your eyes behind

-"Leave Your Eyes Behind', Scott Krippayne

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Purple freckles.

Who knew there was a charm for purple freckles?

A small gaggle of children giggled as he turned around the corner. Only the smug grin on Stella's face kept him from hiding in an alley until the spell was over. When the clerk in the music store looked at him funny, Charlie decided he was definitely going to need to brush up on his defensive spells if he wanted to keep her around.

He wasn't sure what made him happier: seeing the freckles begin to fade back to normal or getting out of that boring little shop. He knew good music when he heard it, but Charlie had no musical inclinations and even fewer inclinations to stick around that pinch-nosed clerk. Unfortunately, the first thing he saw on the street raised an eyebrow.

Charlie had been wondering for a while why his penny-pinching girlfriend hadn't agonized about her massive home overhaul. Now he had a niggling suspicion that he had his answer.

And it stank.

In fact, it came with its own unique aroma of Ogden's, stale tobacco, and something that might have been roasting athletic socks.

Mundungus Fletcher was a mouldering, grimy little wizard who strongly reminded Charlie of an alcoholic basset hound. The grungy fellow was always in on some cheat scheme to make a little extra dosh and lacked any trace of responsibility. With his straggly ginger hair and bow-legs, Ronnie had once compared him to Hermione's unfortunate looking cat. It had earned him a week of the silent treatment, poor kid, but Charlie had to admit he'd been on to something. Dung was a very apt nickname.

Stella, however, failed to notice half of this in her blind rush to hug the slimy little man.

"Señor Fletcher! I can't begin to thank you for everything! You have been such a dear and I…"

Charlie thought he might sick. He needed an escape route. "Err Stella, I'm going to stop in the pub for a bit…"

The Leaky Cauldron was a dim hall of sacred relief. He hated seeing her associating with people like that! It touched too closely on the past that he had learned of so recently and gave him knots the size of hippogryphs in his gut.

Tom, the ancient barkeeper, eventually caught his eye and produced Charlie's usually firewhiskey with a speed unnatural for anyone that age. He might look like a wizened grapefruit, but no one would ever say a word against Tom's bar keeping skills. Charlie paid with a grateful nod and settled back on the questionable stool with a loud series of creaks and groans, ready to wait out Stella's inexhaustible desire to attempt to be polite. He shook his head with a grin at the thought. She would never have what his mother called the 'social graces', but the poor girl really did try.

A shadow in the smoky afternoon light of the pub distracted Charlie from his daydream. The unkempt silhouette seemed so familiar, but it wasn't until the wizard sat down next to him that he realized why.

Donaghan Tremlett.

Charlie froze.

What was he supposed to say? What could he say? "So, thanks for your wife saving my life the other night. Sorry about her dying and all…" Or how about "Good to talk to you again, mate! Haven't heard from you in a dragon's age. How long's it been now since I ruined your life?"

Yes, this was going to be brilliant.

The other man sat down as if it were the most normal thing in the world, as if nothing had ever gone wrong. They said hello, made the niceties. He was still the same old Don, unruffled and without a single grudge. Charlie started to feel at ease in spite of himself.

"Nice strings." Don grunted, indicating Stella's guitar with a gleam of intense curiosity in his eyes. "Can I see?"

"Uh, sure."

Somehow, despite all of the things between them that should have made such a meeting awkward, Don managed to make it feel like nothing had ever happened with just a few short words.

Donaghan reverently slid the strap over his shoulder and tested the strings with careful fingers. After a minute he began to play a soft melody that Charlie vaguely remembered from their school days. The other man's eyes slid shut with a happy sort of satisfaction and suddenly it seemed like they were back in the common room again on a cold winter day. Watching those old worn out fingers work their magic, Charlie could almost see the snow on the glass and hear the titters of the girls gathered around to listen.

"Who's R.M.L.?" Don interrupted his memories.

"Huh?"

"R.M.L." Don pointed to the antique black leather of the guitar strap, where the letters R M L were subtly embroidered among climbing thorns and bramble that almost seemed alive.

"No idea." Charlie felt an irritating pang of jealous curiosity. Had she gotten that from another bloke?

"Merlin's knickers Chuck, do you know what sort of guitar this is? These things are impossible to get a hold of! Where'd you get this?"

It was the first time Charlie had ever really paid attention to the thing. He'd seen Stella play it a thousand times. It had never looked like anything more than a dark, age-polished guitar. She didn't ever take out of the flat and had something much flashier and bright yellow for when the band played.

"S'my girl's."

Don immediately stopped playing and silently returned the instrument.

"Wha'd I say?"

A storm cloud gathered over the grungy wizard. "Got Bres into a cauldron full of trouble, she did. Never liked her."

"Look Don, I know she made some mistakes, but she's really changed. You don't even know her!"

"So she told you what they did?" He seemed truly surprised for a moment. "Bloody Nora! Figured those sickos'd keep that quiet."

"She isn't like that anymore! Stella's going down a different path in life. You've got no right to judge her!"

"I have every right, damit!" He growled and pounded his fist on the rickety table. "She got Bres killed! Tell me how that gives me no right!"

"Don't you dare blame that on Stella!" Charlie hissed, trying to be quiet. "No one forced her to be in the Order!"

The fight went out of Donaghan's shoulders as he stared at the guitar with a sigh. "But no one stopped her either."

Charlie said nothing.

"I should have stopped her Chuck." Don's face looked old and careworn in the grimy shadows of the pub. "I should have made her leave."

"You can't 'make' a witch do anything. She had a choice just like everyone else."

"She wasn't like everyone else, Chuck! She was a muggle! She had no chance!"

Charlie was stunned for a moment. A muggle? It was impossible! She'd saved his life twice! A muggle had …

"But she had that wand …"

"Wand?" Don snorted. "That was a gun you tard. You know, a muggle weapon for …"

"I know what a gun is." Charlie said quietly. "She … she was very brave."

The other man nodded sadly and was silent for a while. "She used to say the same thing about your girl."

"Stella?"

"What do you see in that one, Chuck?"

It was, unfortunately, a question he wasn't sure if he had the answer to.

It was hard to concentrate on anything but her. The way she looked at him the night before, the way she made him feel. There was a feeling of comfort and apprehension both at one time. It was bumpy, rough ground he was ridding on and Charlie wasn't sure if he wanted to go faster or sick up. Stella confused him more than anyone else on earth.

He wasn't thick. He saw the inadequacies in her. She was stubborn to a fault. She cheated, she lied. She had a very strange sense of honor that seemed to work on its own set of rules. She had a past and made no promises about never going back. She could probably manipulate harden criminals if she put her mind to it. She had gotten the better of Fred and George after all…

But Stella was so much more than just the sum of her flaws. She was warm. She loved the life without limits. She could keep a level head in situations that made him want to vomit. She was a resourceful and very accomplished snogger. Thinking about her left him up some nights.

And he saw beauty. Real honest to goodness, broomstick's honor beauty that just shone out of her sometimes. In the back of his head he knew that she wasn't exactly what most blokes were after, but the rest of him paid that part no attention. The color of her skin, the pure pleasure of her hot coco smiles, the curve of her eyelids when she fell asleep in his arms. Her eyes were like dark earth, hiding some soft growing thing down deep. He dearly wished she would let him take down her hair someday. He saw kindness in her too, and forgiveness, and an unbreakable spirit that went after what it wanted, no holds barred. He wasn't sure if he really liked that last one, but maybe he was learning to ... respect it in a twisted way.

And when he was with her, he saw himself as more of the man he wanted to be. She drove him nuts, but she made him step back and think too. Made him question and be more careful with what he thought and said and did.

There was no answer that fit.

"I … I don't know." Charlie said lamely.

"Hmph." Don grunted. "Still can't say I'll ever much care for her myself."

Charlie only sighed, not knowing what to say. A shadow of a grin grew at the corners of Don's mouth.

"Can't blame you though." His shaggy friend took another swig of his liquor with a rueful laugh. "Guess none of use our eyes much when we're in love, huh? You know, its funny Chuck. You're kinda the reason we got together in the first place."

"Huh?"

"Well, after you crashed into me at the scouting event and mucked up my leg, I couldn't go pro anymore. Had to find a new career and I figured I might as well just make the band my profession. Met Bres at one of our first mixed concerts. She had me from the minute we met."

He thought he was going to sick. He had to tell him, had to confess. All of the guilt that had been festering in Charlie for seven long years could no longer be contained.

"I was taking Felix that night Don. That's why I crashed. That's why I ruined your life. I was using enhancers."

"I know." He said quietly.

"What?"

"I know." Don repeated with a hint of a laid-back grin. "I've always known."

"But … but how?" Charlie sputtered.

"Chester. He never could keep a secret. Great with potions, but the bloke had the biggest mouth in the seventh year. Not the best choice for a supplier if you ask me."

"Merlin! How can you even speak to me? How can you sit there and say this all so calmly? I ruined your life!"

"Listen Chuck, I forgave you a long time ago. So you made a mistake. It's not like any of us are perfect. Sides, I told you. If you hadn't been such a tard, I'da never met Bres. Some things just happen for a reason."

A sudden crash from the back of the pub cut Don off. Both of them whipped around to see Stella apologizing to Tom and righting a cloak tree. She glanced over in their direction with a distinctly guilty air. It was obvious that she'd overheard them. Suddenly every part of his inner anatomy sank down somewhere below the basement.

He couldn't move.

Don mumbled a disgruntled goodbye and was gone before Charlie had a chance to say a word. All he could do was sit and watch his world go down in flames as Stella approached him. What would she say?

For a moment she just starred down at the floor playing with the tie of her brown cloak. Her fingers fluttered like nervous birds.

"I am sorry Gatito." She squeaked. "I did not mean to… Well, I did mean to, but only after I came in and heard you talking. I couldn't help myself…"

"Well, err … I guess clumsiness runs in the family huh?"

The smile returned to her warm, round little face as she grabbed his arm and the handle of her guitar case. "Let's go home."

He could only return with a queasy half smile and an obedient trot. How much had she heard? By the time she handed him a helmet and started puttering with her evil motersickle, he couldn't keep it inside.

"Stella, what did … how long were you, I mean … err, what exactly did you…"

"What did I hear?" She said with a smile.

He could only nod.

"I heard enough." Charlie couldn't breathe. "Oh Gatito, there's no need to look like you just swallowed a fly! Do you really think that any dark part of your past could faze me? After everything I have told you?"

"I, err…"

She ruffled his hair playfully and grinned. "You are something else altogether."

Charlie's eyes were drawn back to her hands despite the terrifying ride back to the flat. He had never really stopped to notice them before. Her eyes, her smile, her curves, her ears even, but never her hands.

They were average hands, really. Everyday hands. Not too broad or too boney, the fingers neither too long nor too stumpy. They were just hands, used to everyday work like so many other people's hands. Even from a distance he could see a collection of scars and calluses that almost rivaled his own. Her nails were uneven. Her fingertips were rough and hard.

Stella's hands were a puzzle. They weren't pretty in the conventional sense, but then neither was Stella. Rough and unapologetically overused, but somehow they'd became surprisingly beautiful in Charlie's mind, just another proof that she was not afraid to get them dirty when something needed doing.

They had done some unscrupulous things, those hands, but they had done some wonderful things as well.

The same fingers that had dirtied the very name of magic had wound their way around his heart. The first time he laid eyes on her, they had charmed his flesh and bone back together. They expressed a silent goodbye when she could not as she patted his back and walked into the mess hall hearth six months later. They had calmed his worries the next time he met her, cupping his cheek in the alleyway with worry in her eyes. They had raked through his hair in a decidedly pleasant fashion just an hour before. Somehow in the middle of all of that, they had got his feelings in a stranglehold. How else could he account for the fact that he hadn't run screaming when she told him about her past?

And if she could gloss over his mistakes, then he could at least do the same for her. Besides, she probably deserved it more, being the only one of the two of them who'd been brave enough to actually own up. It was only fair.

Bugger.

Just once in a while he wished he didn't have such a strong sense of fair. He didn't like admitting that he'd lost a match between them. Not that he was going to say anything out loud, but still...

What do you see in her?

Everything! I see everything in her! I want to fly up past the clouds and scream it for the whole world to hear!

Charlie knew at that moment that there was only one answer.

Love.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Authoress's Notes: Wow, this one was kind of difficult to piece together. Not really sure why. I think I may have just been so excited about nest chapter that I kept writing little snippets for that and couldn't keep my mind on what I SHOULD have been working on. Oh well, just means you you'll get next chapter that much sooner!

Random- Thanks so much sweetie! You keep me inspired!

Abigail- So glad to see you again dearie!!! I completely understand the hectic joys of college (especially since they seem to keep me from writing so often, haha!) I'm just overjoyed to have you around again. I can use all the feedback I can get! Thank you so much for understanding my disclaimer. I know those things are rather annoying, but I've written other pieces in the past and had frustration from reviewers on that particular issue. As for your PS, in the back story I have for them Charlie (our beloved blockhead) couldn't pronounce her last name –Estrella is a Spanish name, thus the double L is pronounced as a kind of y sound- so he just decided to call her Stella. Why she doesn't like it has a bit to do with her very proper upbringing and a bit to do with a secret you discover next chapter.

Keeper de los Were-Rats- Dances with you! You think YOU guys were glad to finally get another chapter. Picking up the proverbial pen after you put it down for a while is like trying to pass a darn kidney stone! (Not that I've tried that mind you, but you get the idea…) I'm so glad to hear from you again luv! You have no idea how much your reviews really do inspire me. Even if I'm not updating every other minute, I am updating and I hope next chapter will come along more 'soonly'. You really do make me blush with your kind words, and you are one of my favorite reviewers. As for the 'secretness', I'll do my best but I can't promise anything! winks