WARNING!
FAILURE TO FOLLOW ANY OF THE INSTRUCTIONS IN THIS MANUAL COULD RESULT IN FAILURE OF THE PRODUCT, AN ACCIDENT, PERSONAL INJURY OR DEATH.
From the instruction manual of a set of Campagnolo control levers-
Chapter 3: A Hard Landing
Thud! The ground came up suddenly under Madeline causing her to sprawl out on her back. Her suitcase fell next to her, popping open and scattering its contents like a pinata. She simply blinked at the sky for a moment. The witches and wizards with whom she happened to be traveling, were all still annoyingly on their feet. They started moving away from the plow that had just served as a portkey. Madeline decided she wanted to see more of Romania than just the sky and sat up too quickly and was treated to a show of twirly silver things in front of her eyes, obscuring the beauty of the little vale somewhere in the Carpathian Mountains. She rubbed the back of her neck and then began gathering up books, parchment, a rumpled wedding gown, photos, underwear, her broken mandolin...
"Drat," she said sadly as she gently picked up the pieces and looked at them as if they were the remains of a beloved pet. Suddenly a familiar voice said, "reparo!" There was a flash. Her eyes widened as she dropped the newly mended instrument into her suitcase and leapt to her feet. Charlie caught her up in his arms as she lifted her feet off the ground and he spun her, causing her to laugh. Then he stopped to better breathe in her scent.
"Hmmm, lavender, rosemary, and engine oil," he said affectionately as he nuzzled her thick black hair. "Hey derry-dol, my darling," he murmured. "I missed you."
"Me too." She smiled up at him and stroked his cheek with her fingers. "You grew a beard. I like you furry."
After they were through kissing, the rest of the world began reemerging into their consciousness.
The others had already moved on and the couple was left alone to gather up the remainder of Madeline's things. Charlie picked up a photo of the two of them and his brother Bill on a raft. He chuckled as the three of them waved as the raft pitched and bobbed in the photograph.
"You brought pictures?"
"Just a couple of albums."
He opened the one with the tapestry cover and slipped the photo back in among the others of their childhood and teenage years and smiled. Then he spotted the pink album with the unicorn on the cover.
"Wha...?" He cautiously opened it with one finger as if expecting something truly horrible inside. He peeked, nodded silently, and let it shut. She gave a nervous frown as he handed it to her, then she turned away from his gaze, packed the photo album, and closed the suitcase. She could still feel his eyes on her.
"Don't look at me that way, Charlie. You know I never cared for him in that way. He was just a friend. That's all," she said sincerely.
"More like an obsession," he muttered. She tried to ignore his comment by biting her lower lip. He shook his head slowly, half annoyed and half pitying.
Then, he took her by the hand and immediately starting feeling the excitement return and said, "Let's go. I can't wait to show you the house! You can see the lake from the back deck. There's more than enough room for a garden..."
She hardly heard what he said; her heart was frantically flapping around inside at finally being with him after all this time, or was it the apparating followed rapidly by portkey travel? A motorbike, while perhaps not exactly sensible or swift, was really her favorite mode of transport.