My most sincere apologies to you all for the lateness of this chapter. I usually try to update at least once a week, but last weekend was midterms and the beginnings of Spring Break for my campus. I was very distracted, and I do hope that ya'll can understand my predicament.

As I did not have as much time as usual at my disposal this week, I was unable to complete the entirety of this chapter. However, I thought it would be rather cruel of me to deprive you two weeks running, so I shall post this in two parts. Again, I am dreadfully sorry, and can only beg for my darling readers to forgive me and review despite my unpardonable tardiness.

And a gigantic, Hagrid-sized hug for all of my faithful reviewers! Your comments keep me inspired!

Do enjoy the chapter-
Color Me Gray

How High the Moon

.ψ.

Chapter Thirteen: Being Careful (Part One)

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…there's something about the hesitation in your step

something so beautiful and scared

and something hard about the truth that you accept

and still you find a savior there…

-'It Is Enough', The Waiting

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Stella's basement was big, shadowy, and full of band equipment. The window casings leaked when it rained, and the heater made such odd noises that Charlie wondered if the place was housing a ghoul. It reminded him of the compound back at Wallachia. Both had stone walls and both had so little furniture that it would have made a Spartan cry. In fact, the cot that he'd slept on for three years in Romania could have been picked up from the very same moldering flea market where she'd found her yellow tartan sofa.

It was very different from any room in the burrow, but after his first few hours there Charlie began to feel at home.

'Must be the company.' He figured, watching her laugh out of the corner of his eye.

After that night at the wedding, things just seemed to fall into an easy, comfortable pace between them. It was so different from the way he was used to dating girls that he felt a little nervous. It was almost too comfortable, almost surreal.

Instead of expensive restaurants that emptied his pockets and endless hours of nervous small talk, they spent nights curled up on her ugly sofa, tucked into the only corner of the basement that was free of guitars and drumsticks. These evenings had generally come to involve a small, dubious looking telly and a bowl of some sort of fresh vegetable (Stella was very fond of vegetables.) Sometimes they watched muggle news programs -little men and women in weird clothing that sat behind desks- or 'sit komms'.

Tonight it was a very strange kind of program called a 'kartoon'. 'Kartoons', Charlie decided, reminded him of the little doodle people he and Ronnie used to draw together. It was even odder than most of the telly programs, because it was strange to see something as familiar as moving drawings inside the strange box.

"I bet some idiot gave a muggle a bottle of enchanted ink." He thought out loud, trying to pay attention to the little people in the box and not to how distracting Stella's hair was. What would it look like if he could convince her to take it down?

"Charlie, you are a nutter." She just smiled, and he was glad that she couldn't hear his thoughts.

"So, um … why do they keep calling that thing a football?" He asked, trying to keep his mind away from the sort of things that Bill had gotten detentions for back at Hogwarts.

She gave him an odd look.

Yes, he was very glad she couldn't see inside his head right now.

"What? Just because I'm not exactly muggle literate doesn't mean I don't know SOME stuff. I know what football is." He said proudly. Ha, she wasn't the only one who knew about muggles!

The look on her face said that she still didn't believe him.

"I do! Carrie Kently, this girl I dated back in fifth year, she was muggle born and she had all these posters and clippings about football. She explained the whole thing to me once. It kinda sounds like fun, if you don't mind that there aren't any brooms involved." Stella made another face, but he went on. "The point is, footballs are black and white, not brown."

"You dated Carrie Kently?" She asked with a dangerous edge to her voice.

What was that for? She was glaring at him like he'd just pissed on the crown jewels. What on earth did he do to deserve…

Oh.

Bill's third rule of dating.

Never bring up an ex.

Bugger.

Charlie was going to have to talk to his brother and get a refresher course on this stuff. After nearly three years without seeing anyone seriously, he was as rusty as an old cauldron and had to fumble for something to say.

"Err, yeah. It was only a couple of months … uh, we were better friends than a couple, you know?"

"You still see her around then I take it." This was not going well.

"Uh, no, not really." Charlie was sweating oceans. This was like interrogation by the full Wizengamot!

Thankfully, he seemed to have said the right thing. Stella's looked mildly pacified and went back to watching the 'kartune'.

Women were so hard to predict! At least she wasn't as bad as most of the girls he'd dated. It was dead unnerving when someone who was usually so good-natured got so crabby at the drop of a hat, but she made up for it entirely by being a fairly decent kisser. And he'd quickly learned in the past few days that even if the bloody couch was ugly as a hag's backside, it was a lot more comfortable than a broom cupboard. Now he just had to get her mind off Carrie … especially if he expected to get around to snogging her tonight.

"So, um … about that little brown ball …" He pointed to the bald child in the telly who was being duped into falsely kicking the imposter football. "Why do they keep calling it a football?"

"This show is from the states. They have funny names for stuff." He could feel her relaxing against him. Brilliant, it was working!

"How'd you end up with telly things from over there?" He was a little curious, after all.

"Ted used to take me with him some summers, when he went on his lecture circuits in the US. I got into some American music and a couple of telly programs." The grin was returning to her face. "You should see what they try to pass off as 'chips' over there though. They're not chips at all! All the bags say chips, but they're really crisps, and that was the most disappointing bag of crisps I've ever eaten in my life. I mean, I opened it up expecting to find some crazy sour cream and onion chips –even thought I didn't have the slightest idea how they were going to get that to happen- and all it was was a bunch of measly old crisps!"

"Sounds like a right catastrophe."

"Are you mocking me gatito?" She tried to hide a grin.

"I wouldn't dare."

"Well good. Just as long as we both understand."

"Mhm." He put an arm around her covertly. "So what does he do, anyway?"

"Ted? He's a historian. He's the one who got me hooked on history books. Didn't I ever tell you about that?"

Charlie shook his head and half listened while she started on about how Mr. Tonks gave her her first book on the Black Death.

"Hey Stella?"

"Don't call me that." She murmured, not really paying attention to him.

"Why do you always call him Ted?" He had never heard her call Ted Tonks anything except for 'Ted'. Not dad or da or daddy or even father, just Ted. If he was Tonks's dad, it would make sense that he was Stella's too, but …

She sighed and looked very tired all of a sudden. "It's kind of a long story, gatito. Very complicated and boring. You'd be asleep by the time I was done, I swear."

"Of course I wouldn't…"

"Don't Charlie." She cut him off sharply, then softened her tone a little. "I'm really not in the mood right now, alright?"

A trace of what might have been sadness whispered across her face, but it was gone so quickly that he couldn't be sure. What was she on about?

"Alright." He agreed and tightened his arms around her. After a few minutes she still wasn't very relaxed.

"Stella?"

"Hmm." She grunted. "Let it be, Charlie! Drop the subject!"

"I wasn't planning on bringing it up."

Stella was peeved. "Wha'd you want then?"

"Well, I figured since you weren't in the mood for talking, you'd be in the mood for something else…" He tried to put on as devious a grin as he could manage.

"Something else? Wha… Oh geeze." She caught on. "You have a one track mind, you know that?"

Stella tried to look exasperated, but Charlie knew she would always be a terrible liar.

Besides, that same old grin was creeping back on her face too.

.ψ.

Sometime around three in the morning, Stella fell asleep. She felt so comfortable curled up in his lap, in his arms. Not to heavy or too light, just … comfortable. There was a sense of rightness to the whole thing that was almost disturbing.

But a very persuasive voice in his head reminded him how dead enjoyable it was to have a girlfriend again, especially a bird like Stella.

On the other hand, it scared him a little too, how easily he'd started thinking about her as his girlfriend. Come to think of it, they'd never really gotten around to defining exactly what they were. She certainly hadn't said anything on the subject. They had snogged a few times –much to Charlie's supreme delight- and spent a lot of time together lately, but neither of them had actually SAID anything about their relationship.

Then again, this whole train of thought was probably just him being a great berk. Stella admitted to liking snogging him, admitted to enjoying his company, after all. Shouldn't he just let it go at that?

At that moment, Charlie remembered something his dad had said to him once.

"Always ask before you assume, son. Remember, 'assume makes an ass out of you and me'. Good one to keep in mind, especially with the young ladies you know. Err, don't tell your mother I told you that …"

Charlie was going to have to think very hard about this before he said anything to Stella.

Even though he flew off the handle once in a while, Charlie knew that it was always better to think things through and be careful with what you said. It was the same as being careful not to be clumsy. When he was growing up, Charlie was the strongest and the biggest of his brothers by far -even though Bill was taller- so he'd learned to be careful not to accidentally knock people over or break the dishes. It had taken a long time for him to get good at it though, and a couple of his them still had little scars from because of his accidents, especially Fred and George since they were the most fun to wrestle with.

Each on of those almost invisible scars still made him feel guilty, and they drove home an important lesson every time he remembered them. You had to be careful, had to restrain yourself and think things through. If you didn't, people tended to get hurt.

And he definitely did not want to hurt Stella.

But he did want to know what she thought about all this…

Oh, why had he ever wanted to start dating again? Life would be so much simpler without all this frustration!

Yet Charlie had to admit that it was nice to be around her. When she wasn't being oversensitive about stupid things or telling him he should eat a more balanced diet, it was easy to relax with her and be himself. He couldn't say that about a lot of women. Bill and the twins were always much better with the opposite sex.

Those brothers were the outgoing ones in the family, the ones who understood girls. They liked parties and crowds and being the center of attention. They liked taking risks and pulling pranks to show off and be clever. Charlie would rather make a joke or pull a gag purely for the private fun of it. The only time he honestly enjoyed the spotlight was in Quidditch, where he knew that he really had something. Well, back when he used to have something anyways.

Other than that, he preferred his books and his dragons. Those were simple things, easy to understand. Life with books and dragons and careful thought went at a slower pace, and he was right happy just strolling along instead of running.

Unless it involved a broom, of course. Then speed was the best thing on earth.

It really was a shame that Stella refused to come near his broom.

It was a very nice broom, after all.

He was distracted from his circular thoughts when the girl in question shifted in his lap. He pulled the blanket back over her and watched her face by the light of the telly. She really was pretty.

And distracting.

Did he mention distracting?

Yep, her newest position was dead distracting. In fact, he was torn between moving her into a less distracting position and doing some distracting himself. Distracting her from sleeping namely. Possibly with a kiss. She might or might not like that, he reasoned, but it would definitely lessen the amount of her that was leaning on him and doing the initial distracting…

'Besides, if she doesn't hit me right away, she'll probably go along with it.' He thought.

And if he was very, very lucky, she might consent to some further distracting activities…

Just as his thoughts began to wander off into territory his mother would have been appalled by, a loud thump echoed above them.

Bloody snake!

He really was going to kill that thing if it woke her up. And low and behold, a series of loud crashes followed the thump and foiled all his imaginary plans. Stella shot up from his lap, half mumbling and half shouting "Down with the chocolate treacle!"

He felt a bit put out when she moved and all of the distraction went with her.

"Wha… Charlie?" She asked groggily.

"Down with the chocolate treacle?" He smiled.

"Oh," she blushed, "I, err … I was dreaming."

He had a good feeling that this would someday prove to be excellent teasing material, but didn't get the chance to push the question.

The basement door crashed open with a bang to reveal Bimby. "Miss Myra, there is visitors in the kitchen. And they is bleeding on Bimby's nice clean floor!"

Well, that sort of ruined the moment. Bugger!

"Visitors? Who's visiting at this hour of the … never mind. Come on Nana, let's go. I wouldn't want them to dirty up your floors."

He felt her tug the blanket off of them with a great pang of regret. It was colder than Boxing Day at Wallachia down here! That afghan was knobby and itchy and even uglier than Stella's choice in furniture, but it was a gift from Ronnie's girlfriend and therefore she insisted on using it. He knew that those two were sort of friends, but what that had to do with actually using the bloody blanket was anybody's guess.

Women.

Charlie was so lost in thought while he traipsed after the white haired house elf and his short, wooly girlfriend (she had wrapped the itchy thing around herself) that it took a minute for the scene in the kitchen to register.

When it did, he was caught between shock and the outright urge to vomit.

There was blood everywhere.

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Authoress's Notes: I lied when I said this chapter would be an important turning point. I know, I'm an evil, unfair person who doesn't deserve to see the light of day. Sorry. In my defense, I wanted to give them a little happiness and fluff before the next challenge comes their way. I also needed this chapter for several other reasons, none of which I can explain without giving away too much. I do hope that you –the collective reading body- can forgive me for my grave sins. (inserts sarcastic grin) In other news, What are the readers' opinions on Charlie's attitude about being careful?

Alright, before somebody goes and says it –and I know someone must be thinking it- Yes, Charlie Weasley is a bit of a hypocrite. He has this philosophy of thinking things through and being laid back and 'looking before leaping' if you will, but when it comes to real life he often speaks before he thinks. In fact, he can get quite heated about his beliefs without always thinking them through. He is actually pretty prone to being judgmental about some things –cough chough SLYTHERINS!- but he honestly doesn't realize it. In Charlie's defense though, most of the time he does appear to be a pretty easy going guy to the rest of the world. Quiet, thoughtful, a hard worker, a good friend. Charlie Weasley is a sturdy sort of guy who is still growing up and learning how to be more patient and more tolerant. He is an all around decent bloke who has the best of intentions; he just has a few rough edges. I mean, don't we all?

In americanesse, CRISPS are what an American would call potato chips while CHIPS are deep fried potato wedges, often served with beer battered fish. (That's called fish and chips, a dish I enjoy to an almost unhealthy level, especially with lots of malt vinegar) Tartan Plaid

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Possum- I'm glad that somebody out there enjoys my harry. Well, he's not my harry, I suppose I must give credit where credit is due (bows down to JKR in sincere admiration) but he is my interpretation of the character, so I must be content with that. I let you in on a secret – I think I may bring him back once or twice more, just because his perspective is so much fun to write from. I like being able to bring out the testy, bad boy side that we all know is simmering under there somewhere. (grins)

You noticed Neville! You ought to be a sleuth, since you are so good at picking up on clues. I will let you in on another secret (my, I seem to be doing that a lot tonight) and tell you that you should be on the lookout for him in further chapters… Country and Western aren't the same thing? That's news to me. Granted, the most country/western music I've ever listened to was the summer where I volunteered on a dairy farm and the farmer really liked that style, so I'm no expert. Peacocks are more than meets the eye, you say? Maybe that says something about Fleur … or another character… (oh, the possibilities) You have pet peacocks? Brilliant! How did that happen?

HarryPotterMagic- Yes, it was about time. Charlie, you troll! It took you long enough! But alls well that ends well right? … well, maybe… I'm not much of a country fan, but I too am very fond of that song. I like it so much that I actually went out during spring break and bought the sheet music for it so I can learn it on my piano. Beautiful stuff.

I'm happy that that paragraph came off so well. It was one of the hardest for me to write, since in a way I feel a lot like Charlie on that subject right now. I really wanted to get it to come across right, and it sounds like I've got a medocrum of sucsess on my hands. Hooray! You cried? I feel so honored! I think that's the first time anyone has ever really been moved by my work. I'm going to have to celebrate with some cheesecake or something! (Stella and I have differing viewpoints on what the words 'healthy food' entail) No worries about missing a review. You do so much for my day every time you do send one! How did your play go, by the way? What was it?

Aqua Fairy- Yes, enthusiasm rocks! Never loose that. My chapters are great? I don't know about that, but you certainly keep me blushing with your compliments. –Stella is rolling her eyes right now and repeating "Flattery never works", but I'm not paying any attention to her- I like her as a guitarist too. In that respect, she's got a little of my own personality in her. We are both amatures, and neither of us is very good, but we both use music as our escape, our outlet when the world is getting a little too crazy. Yeah, I'm not sure Charlie was very fond of being called a 'rouge' in front of another guy, even if it was Mr. Lupin, but it was fun to write. Tonks and Lupin are probably one of my all time favorite couples to write dialogue for, they just crack me up! Yes, again, Fleur and country music make me giggle when I think about them.