I Was Born a Fool and I'll Die a Fool for You

by WastelandRose

"You're bloody ridiculous. You do know that, right?" "Yes. And thank you for using 'ridiculous' instead of 'insane.' It's a narrow distinction that not many people bother to get correct." Fred/OC

8. Christmas at the Burrow

Part 8 - Christmas at the Burrow

I was fourteen years old when I lost my virginity to Oliver Wood in the quidditch locker showers following Gryffindor's tragic defeat to Hufflepuff. We were both drunk, but, as far as first times go, it was pretty good. I'd even say above average.

The bad part was the fall out.

Fred and I started avoiding each other. I thought he was mad at me because he'd caught me drunk again after I promised him I'd stop, and I didn't want to hear his lectures. He thought I was mad at him for yelling at me, or something like that.

Anyways, the whole situation was frustrating and just made everything I was going through even worse. I figured that since Fred was going to be mad no matter what, there was no point in even trying to stay sober anymore.

I began to drink a lot more. Several times a week, I'd steal the Marauders' Map from the twins and sneak into Hogsmeade to get trashed. Every time George took the piece of parchment back, he gave me such a tragically disappointed look that I almost felt like crying.

But I couldn't stop.

Alcohol was one of the few things that numbed the fear and misery, that quieted the cruel voices from inside and outside my head. I needed it just to keep going.

My grades actually began to slip. Since I first started at Hogwarts, I'd always been the very top of my class, but I started to not give a damn anymore. I just didn't see the point in homework, and studying, and showing up for lessons. Why should I work hard to earn high marks when the only thing I could do with them would be to grow up to join the society that hated me so much? The society that never wanted me and never would? The society that's prejudice and corruption had turned me into what I was?

On the plus side, I hadn't had anymore hallucinations, just occasional voices that I was unsure of...

With my relationship with the twins so rocky, I found myself alone a lot, therefore giving Oliver the opportunity to find me alone for a fuck pretty much whenever he felt like it.

I should've minded.

I didn't.

Meaningless sex quickly became just another thing I was addicted to. It helped me to forget, to just let go and feel good amidst all the bad.

It was the middle of December, a Friday, and I'd skived off of my Charms exam to meet Oliver underneath the quidditch stands. The weather was still gray and freezing. A few feet of stale, trampled snow were on the ground, so abused that they were no longer white, but a dirty grayish-brown.

I was still wearing last year's too-small uniform. I had a scarf, but no robe, arms and legs bare to the frigid winds. I was shivering quite violently by the time I finally made it to the bleachers, my tan skin prickling all over with gooseflesh.

Almost as soon as I stepped into the cool, slatted shadow, I was grabbed from behind and pushed face first against one of the thick wood posts, my satchel falling off my shoulder and into the dirty snow. "You're late," Oliver's familiar, deep Scottish brogue rumbled hotly against my ear, the boy's firm chest flush against my back. He was already letting one of his broad, rough hands trail up the inside of my thigh as the other kept my body pinned against the cold wood. My hair fell over my eyes, closing off reality.

"Got held up," I responded breathlessly, letting the heat of Oliver's body push away thoughts of how Remus cornered me after lunch, how he tried to talk me into going back to the shrink, how he looked so sad and tired...

"Fuck, feels good," I gasped, arching my back as Oliver squeezed one tit and let his fingers finally dip into my cunt. Thinking was becoming more and more impossible as I just surrendered myself to the feel of everything around me and that was utterly perfect.

Chuckling hotly as he licked my neck, the brawny keeper ground his hips against my arse and responded, "Gagging for it, aren't you?"

I moaned, smirking as I baited, "You gonna shut up and fuck me, or do I have to find someone else to do it?"

With a deep growl, his grip on my boob tightened almost painfully, causing me to cry out as the bare skin of my stomach fused with the frost on the thick post I was trapped against. "Bitch," Oliver spat, flipping up the back of my skirt and unzipping his fly all in the same graceful, highly-coordinated movement. I laughed, reaching back to touch him as I taunted again, "That sounds like a complaint, Captain."

"Arms above your head," He ordered gruffly, seizing both my wrists in one of his hands when I obeyed, holding them firmly against the cold wood. With his free hand, he seized my hip hard enough to leave more of the little finger-shaped bruises I'd become used to seeing over the past few months and he thrust roughly into me. Oliver was never gentle. I don't think he was capable of it.

Whimpering, I bit my lip to keep from screaming out loud as I was pounded flat against the pillar, as my eyes slammed shut and I let sensation overtake me. For the next half hour, there was no outside world, no fugitive fathers, no traitorous uncles, no feuding best friends. There was just raw nerve ends igniting in fire, moans and low cries of ecstasy as I came over and over on Oliver Wood's cock.

Later, after awkward cleaning spells and the straightening of clothing, the owner of said cock shot me a charming smile as he asked, "What are you doing tomorrow?"

"Let's see," I mused thoughtfully, wrapping my arms around my thin frame as I flicked some shaggy blonde hair out of my blue-gray eyes, "Saturday... that means an all-day sleepathon, possibly broken up by sporadic instances of reluctant consciousness and heavy alcohol consumption. Why do you ask?"

"Well," He said, putting a muscular arm around my shoulders and pulling me into his side. I knew that it was bad to let him do stuff like that, let him think what was going on between us was anything more than sex, but I was freezing as sweat cooled on my skin and he was so fucking warm. I couldn't help but lean into the embrace. Just when I'd gotten comfortable, he continued, "I was thinking that maybe you'd like to go to Hogsmeade with me."

"Think again," I muttered, pulling away and trying not to groan with annoyance. We'd had this conversation several times already. I wanted our pseudo relationship a secret and Oliver took every available opportunity to try to talk me out of my decision.

"Why not?" He argued, obviously displeased by my reaction. Moving to gather my dropped satchel, I impatiently answered, "I've already told you."

"It's not a sodding marriage proposal," He growled in frustration, grabbing me and pinning me back up against the pillar, face-to-face this time, "I just want to have a normal date with you. What we're doing, it's weird. And I hate feeling like some pervert who's taking advantage."

Resolved, I gazed unflinchingly back up into his brown eyes. He was only a few inches taller than me, with a handsome, rugged face that could be threatening or sweet depending on his mood. At the moment, it was just irritated.

"Again with the complaints, Captain," I teased, giving my best wicked smirk as well as a firm roll of my hips against his in the hopes of distracting him, "A girl might think you actually have a problem with being fucked twice or more times a day."

His expression wavered for the briefest second, lust blazing in his dark eyes. But then, just like that, it was gone and he'd released me. Stepping back, he ran blunt fingers through his thick brown hair, taking a deep, calming breath before countering harshly, "And a guy might think you're embarrassed to be seen with him in public."

"It's not like that," I said, barely managing to resist rolling my eyes at his little hissy fit, "I deal with enough shit from people just being me. I don't want to be anymore in the forefronts of anyone's minds by having them think we're together."

Nostrils flaring as his fists clenched at his sides, the boy's broad chest heaved with a few harsh breaths and he accused, "And we're not really together, are we?"

I met his gaze, answering flatly, "No, we're not." The situation wasn't fair to Oliver at all. He was a nice guy, even though he was slow and bit dull. He had feelings and I was ignoring them. If anyone was taking advantage, it was me.

But, again, I couldn't bring myself to care. I knew Oliver wanted a girlfriend, but I didn't want a boyfriend. All I wanted was someone to fuck me until I couldn't remember my own name, let alone the man who'd given it to me.

Not waiting for Oliver to respond, I moved away from him, recovering my satchel again and digging through it until I found a pack of cigarettes. Yes, yet another destructive habit, so sue me.

I took one out and lit it with the tip of my wand, inhaling a long, slow drag as I let the simple action relax me. My lungs filled with harsh, sour smoke, and I slowly let a hazy cloud of it out into the gray winter air.

"Do you have to do that?" Oliver sniped, bothered by my new bent. He stepped away, coughing slightly and I could see his eyes water. "It's really bad for you," He added frankly.

I shrugged and took another long drag.

"Fine," He finally sighed, clearly fed-up with me, giving up, thank Merlin, "I'll see you tonight, ok? And let me know if you change your mind." He turned those big brown eyes of his on me, giving a heart-melting half smile as he announced, "It really would mean a lot."

"Sure," I said, unaffected by his charm and not bothering to watch as he walked out from under the bleachers. I continued to just smoke in silence.

Not even a full minute later, I heard, "Stella Eris Black, that had better not be what I think it is in your hand!"

Wincing, I turned to see George storming towards me, hugging himself in a thick, blue Weasley jumper as he glared menacingly. "That all depends on what you think it is," I answered combatively, jutting my chin out in defiance as I took yet another puff.

The stocky redhead ripped the cigarette away from my lips, throwing it to the ground and stomping it out as I indignantly shouted, "OY!"

"What the hell were you doing with Wood?" He demanded suspiciously, ignoring my cry of protest as he eyed over my shivering, disheveled form, "I thought you couldn't stand him."

"Ya, well," I answered, already irritated with the conversation, "The more brain cells I kill, the more tolerable he becomes. Was there something in particular that you wanted, or have you just taken up following me around for fun again?"

With an exasperated sigh, George replied coldly, "You know what I want. Hand over the map and stop taking it without asking."

"But you always say no when I ask," I teased, digging the familiar roll of parchment that was the Marauders' Map out of my bag, "And I only took it because I don't like being spied on, though you seem to have had no problems tracking me down anyways."

"I'm trying to keep you out of trouble," He argued, snatching the map away and stuffing it in his back pocket. Blowing on his cupped hands to warm them up, he scowled at me and continued, "You have no idea how much it sucks, but someone has to look out for you until you start seeing some sense."

"A million thanks, noble savior. Your heroics know no bounds," I mocked, curtsying sarcastically before pushing past him to leave.

Grabbing my arm, George spun me back to face him. He was angry, but he was also worried and scared, and suddenly it wasn't even the least bit funny anymore. I could no longer look into his kind blue eyes.

"How are you, Stel?" He pressed, his grip loosening as his voice softened. Unable to meet his penetrating gaze, I shrugged, muttering, "Alright, I guess."

Not seeming to believe me, George went on, "Did you eat anything today?" I had to actually think on that for a few moments, admitting quietly, "No. I wasn't hungry."

He pulled a wrapped sandwich out of his pocket, pushing it into my hands and staring at me until I grudgingly began to eat it. He then asked, "Where's your robe?"

"Lost it," I confessed sadly, my mouth full of ham and cheese. Just a few bites in and I was already feeling nauseas.

George rummaged through his own bag for a few moments, finally producing another worn blue jumper with a big gold G on it and handing it to me as he stated, "Here. It doesn't fit anymore, so you can just have it."

Suddenly finding myself biting back tears as I took the sweater from my friend and pulled it over my head, I responded, "Thanks, Georgie." He gave me a weak smile, stating, "No problem, Stel. I'm here for anything you need, ok?"

I nodded. He tugged me to him in a warm, reassuring hug, kissing me softly on the cheek. For a few moments, I thought I was going to break down crying just from how good he felt. It was a different kind of good than sex. It was more... comfort, and love, and caring. I didn't have to escape the real world because having George hold me like that made me feel like the real world was a lot more bearable. I never wanted it to end.

"What are you doing for the hols?" He asked, swaying us gently and thankfully not moving to pull away. I shrugged, shivering when he tucked a shaggy shock of blonde hair behind my ear.

Tightening his grip in an effort to fight the cold from my body, George then offered, "You want to come home with us? It'll be real fun. Promise."

"I dunno," I responded skeptically, laying my head on his shoulder and closing my eyes as I listened to his heart beat, "You sure Fred won't mind?"

"It was his idea," George countered, rubbing my back, "He's too scared to ask though. He thinks you're mad at him."

I shook my head, arguing, "I'm not. I thought he was mad at me."

"Ya," The freckled beater chuckled, "I got that. The both of you are nutters. So what do you say? Christmas at the Burrow?"

The first real smile in months came across my face, and I hummed happily, "Sounds absolutely wonderful."

xxXxx

The next day was the Hogsmeade visit, and I skipped it. Oliver threw a little fit and ended up going with some brunette from his own year, who, I heard, ended up slapping him for touching her tit. He was trying to make me jealous. It didn't work, and that boy was really starting to get on my nerves.

While I was lying in bed, trying and failing to sleep through the chilly Saturday, the twins were out doing something they'd been talking about since before Halloween: making it so I couldn't abuse the Marauders' Map any longer.

They gave it to Harry, even though they were both still a little pissed about how he was treating me. See, that was the genius in the plan. Anyone else in the school, I would've probably just stolen it back from. Harry was different. I didn't want to do anything to make him hate me anymore, and therefore wouldn't risk taking the map from him. Hell, I couldn't even work up the courage to try to talk to him anymore because I couldn't handle the insults he'd scream at me whenever I did.

The twins are a lot smarter than most people give them credit for.

But, of course, I did not find out about any of that until after we got back from break. At the time, I was just sleeping away the hours until I'd finally get to leave for the Burrow. For the first time in a while, I was actually looking forward to something.

Sunday was end of term and the train ride back to London. It was a slow, comfortable journey, and I spent it sitting on the ground between Fred's legs, the both of us silent as I snuggled into his brother's worn blue jumper and he played with my hair. We didn't say anything to make up because, apparently, we were never fighting. We only thought we were.

I'm aware that that's odd and doesn't make much sense, but it's the only way I can explain what happened.

We were met at King's Cross by Mrs. Weasley, who immediately started in on me for being so skinny. I tried hard not to be too annoyed that a woman who I'd only met briefly on two other occasions was being so nosy and overbearing.

Once we got to the Burrow, the first thing she did was pull me into the kitchen and make me a sandwich. Only when I finished it did she allow the twins to rescue me and give a tour of their home.

I liked their room a lot. It was cute and just very the twins, while still managing to showcase their individual personalities. Fred's side had more books and piles of big fluffy pillows on his bed. George's sported significantly more scorch marks on the wood floor, though it was a bit tidier.

"Mum said you could use Ron's room since he decided to stay at Hogwarts," Fred announced, yawning as he grabbed me around the waist and pulled me down into his bed with him, "But we'll show you where it is later."

"Ya," George agreed, flopping down into his own nearly bare mattress, "Right now it's time for a loooooong nap."

Snickering as I cuddled into Fred and his ridiculously comfortable mound of pillows, I agreed, "Sounds good to me." The afternoon nap should be an institution everywhere.

xxXxx

We slept and just hung out there in the beds on and off until dinner. It was so nice and so much fun. I loved being with my two best friends. I'd missed them; they were good at making me happy, and that's what I really needed most during that long, awful year.

Percy came and got us when Mrs. Weasley decided it was time to eat, and then I had to sit through a meal with her and the twins constantly trying to sneak more food onto my plate. It was annoying, but I knew it was only because they cared about me so I just let it go.

No one went to bed until pretty late. The twins' older brothers, Bill and Charlie, were supposed to be coming, and they were supposed to show up sometime that night. Everyone tried to stay up so they could greet them. Ginny played chess with Percy; the twins pestered their mother while she watched the family clock thing for any sign of movement from either of her two eldest son's hands. I hung out with Mr. Weasley, explaining my CD player and letting him listen to it for a bit. All in all, it was a very nice, relaxing evening.

But, around midnight, Mrs. Weasley decided that Bill and Charlie probably wouldn't make it until the next morning so we should all just go to bed. The twins led me upstairs to Ron's room, which was on the fifth floor at the top of a narrow staircase and adorned in glaring orange Chudley Canons memorabilia. I had no idea that his obsession with the Canons went so deep as to extend to the decor of his entire room. It smelled funny, too, though I couldn't quite put my finger on what the smell was...

"Well, love," George stated, yawning as he hugged and kissed me goodnight, "Sweet dreams."

"Feel free to wake us if you need anything," Fred added, giving me a hug and kiss as well, putting far too much emphasis on 'anything.' George snorted, "Speak for yourself, mate. I'm absolutely beat. The house had better be on fire if anyone wants to wake me up." Snorting in return as he shoved his brother out of the room, Fred replied, "Lazy prat. Night, Stel."

"Night boys," I yawned, shutting the door behind them and then rifling through my trunk for some suitable pajamas. Despite the nap, I was knackered, so I just grabbed the first ones I found, which happened to be a rather immodest white tank top and pair of red flannel shorts. Then I shut off the lights, crawled into bed, and waited for sleep to claim me.

I didn't have to wait very long.

xxXxx

I shot upright in bed, breathing hard and suddenly feeling like my skin was absolutely crawling. Despite being asleep, I'd just realized what the funny smell in Ron's room was: rat. His room smelled like rat and I hate rats...

Alright, it's more like a deathly phobia I've had for as long as I can remember, but that doesn't change the fact that there was no way in hell I was staying in a room that smelled of them.

Shivering slightly as my bare feet met the cold floor, I got up out of bed and walked briskly out into the hall. I found the twins' room, carefully peeking in to find that they were both asleep. Even though Fred said to wake him for anything, I decided not to. I'd feel too guilty about waking him up just to complain that his little brother's room smelled. That is a bit crazy, even for me.

Realizing that I probably wouldn't be getting back to sleep and thinking that a glass of water might help me feel better, I wandered down to the kitchen, rubbing my bleary eyes as I stumbled towards the cabinet where the cups were kept. I grabbed one, filled it up in the sink, and was already drinking when I turned around as saw that two redheaded men were sitting at the table. They were both staring intently, and startled the living daylights out of me.

I choked, spitting water all down the front of my tank top and descending into a violent coughing fit. I barely heard the sounds of two chairs scraping against the floor as they were pushed back and their occupants leapt to my rescue, both slapping me lightly on the back as they asked if I was alright. Forgive me for not remembering the exact words as I was doubled over and more than a little starved for oxygen at the time.

"Merlin," I finally gasped a few minutes later, laughing slightly and finally managing to stand upright, "What a way to make a first impression!" Both men cracked smiles, giving me time to look them over as I continued to catch my breath.

The one on my left was thin but muscular, and very tall, probably over 6'6". He was handsome in an easy, classic sort of way, with a long nose, sculpted cheekbones, blues eyes, freckles, and long bright red hair that was neatly tied with a strip of leather at the nape of his elegant neck. A dragon fang earring hung from his left earlobe, and the leather jacket he wore looked a bit tatty but very cool, as were his dusty jeans and dragon hide boots. From all the complaints I'd listened to from Mrs. Weasley about how she wanted to give him a haircut, I was sure he must be Bill.

His brother was dressed similarly, though he wore no jacket over his plain white t-shirt, his jeans were ripped and scorched to shreds, and his old hiking boots had mud caked on them, which I finally saw he'd tracked through the room. I couldn't help but smirk over the tongue-lashing he'd inevitably catch from his mother in the morning. The second Weasley boy was also very handsome, but in a more rugged sort of way. He had a strong, square jaw, a broad, slightly crooked nose, an endearing lopsided smile, and big ears that stuck out from his head just a little too much. He bore the Weasley trademark bright red hair, though it was buzzed to near non-existence, and clear blue eyes. His freckles were far more severe than the rest of his family's, so thick that they made him look like had a dark tan. He was shorter than me by a few inches, with a stocky, obviously muscular build that reminded me of the twins'. He had shiny burn scars on his forearms. Since Charlie was the dragon tamer, I assumed he must be Charlie.

"Hello," I said, crossing my arms to offer a hand to both of them at once, "You must be Bill and Charlie. I'm Stella, and it's nice to meet you, though I wish I wouldn't have gone and spit up on myself."

Both laughed, shaking my hands firmly as they tried to discretely eye me up and down. Bill was the first to speak, all charm as he cooed, "No worries, love. It's very nice to meet you as well."

"A pleasure," Charlie added, his voice a bit deeper than his older brother's. Flashing a wide, somewhat dopey grin as his ears turned lightly pink, the man continued, "Sorry if we scared you. No one told us Percy was bringing a girl home... never would've seen that coming..."

"Percy?" I gaped, trying not to wrinkle my nose in disgust and annoyance (No offense to Percy or anything but... ew). "No, no," I corrected, stepping back as my hands fell to my hips, "I'm friends with the twins. They invited me."

The elder Weasley boys shared curious glances, Bill finally raising one sculpted ginger eyebrow as he inquired disbelievingly, "The twins? That would make you... fifteen?"

"Fourteen, actually," I stated, slightly amused by the way their eyes bugged out of their heads, "I'll be fifteen in April."

"Wow," Charlie muttered, his ears and cheeks turning flaming red as he very abruptly dropped his gaze to the floor, "I thought you were much older." Chuckling, I replied, "Ya, I get that a lot. It comes in handy since no one's ever thought to card me anywhere."

Bill laughed, elbowing his brother as he joked, "A real wild child, eh? Bet you've got some good stories on our ickle brothers. Care to sit down and share a few?"

"Sure," I agreed sweetly, happy to have found an excuse not to return to Ron's rat-smelling room. Proving to be a real gentleman, Bill pulled out a chair for me and held it while I sat. I smiled at him over my shoulder, crossing my long legs as I watched him and his brother assume the seats they'd been in before. They weren't exactly as they'd been before, however: Bill had a slightly mesmerized expression on his face and Charlie was still beet red, trying to look everywhere but at me.

Thoughtfully chewing on my bottom lip, I stated, "Let's see, stories about the twins... Well, did they ever tell you how we met on the train my first year?"

Hehe, I will never get tired of that one...

xxXxx

I chatted happily with Bill and Charlie until late in the morning. It was great fun. They were both very nice.

Bill was a bit of a flirt and a charmer, but I've heard the same said about me so that could be why we got along so well. He was a cursebreaker, and I delighted in being able to discuss his profession with him. I think he was surprised that my blonde hair grew out of an actual brain, but, after the initial shock, seemed rather impressed with me. I guess it wasn't every day he ran into fourteen-year-old girls who thought Ancient Runes, Arithmancy, and History were absolutely fascinating.

Charlie was more shy and uncomfortable around me, still having trouble with his blushing and unable to meet my gaze for quite awhile. He only finally relaxed when I got him to tell me about his dragons. After that it was impossible to get him to shut up. He was truly passionate about what he did and spoke zealously about a new piece of legislation he was working on that would offer stricter punishments for anyone found poaching his beloved dragons. Actually, he referred to such people with a long string of expletives that really is too colorful for me to repeat, no matter how accurate and funny it was. Again, I think he liked me because I agreed with his views and also had a fondness for animals (all except rats).

Mrs. Weasley came down in her bathrobe at about nine thirty, her weathered face immediately breaking into an elated smile upon seeing her two eldest sons seated at the kitchen table. "Bill! Charlie!" She cried, launching herself at them and trapping both men into bone-crushing hugs, "You're here! Oh, thank Merlin! My boys are home!"

"Ouch, Mum," Charlie grumbled, flushing slightly pink but unable to stop himself from smiling and hugging her back, "Missed you, too, but I could do without the strangling."

"You haven't been home in two years," The old woman scolded, a blissful expression on her face as she merely hugged them tighter, "I'm allowed to strangle you if I bloody well please."

Laughing, Bill gave his mother a kiss on the cheek before greeting, "Good to be home, Mum. Now, how about some breakfast?"

With a snort, Mrs. Weasley finally released her sons, kissing them both several times before drifting towards the stove and remarking, "Food, food, food. That's all you really come home for, isn't it?" Bill flashed me a wide grin, winking as he argued, "Of course not. We come home for the engaging company."

I snickered, getting up from my seat as I inquired, "Can I help you with anything, Mrs. Weasley?"

"Oh, dear, I already told you, call me Molly," She scolded brightly, magicing pans onto the stove. After flicking some butter into her old skillet, she turned around and answered, "And of course you can help. Why don't you set the table and-" She cut herself off when she saw me, her blue eyes growing slightly large. I don't think she approved of my pajamas because she added somewhat darkly, "You must be freezing in that! Go get dressed right this instant! I'll not have you getting ill on my watch!"

"Alright," I stated grudgingly, shrugging as I went for the stairs. As I was leaving, I heard Bill quietly groan, "Muuum, what'd you do that for?" I was giggling as I heard his mother respond, "Oh, hush! Do you have any idea who old that girl is? It is entirely inappropriate to be traipsing about half-dressed in front of grown men!"

"No complaints here," I heard Charlie respond, sounding a bit distracted as he leaned around the corner to watch me climb the stairs.

In a good mood despite the criticism of my attire, I bounded up to Ron's room and dressed quickly in jeans and a black long sleeve shirt, both of which were a bit tight and short on me. I was hoping that someone would send me some proper fitting clothes for Christmas.

After that, I fled Ron's rat-smelling room and happily made my way downstairs. I met up with the twins on the landing outside their room, both boys shirtless and yawning as they greeted, "Morning, Stel."

"Morning," I sang sweetly, situating myself between the boys and throwing an arm around each of their thick freckled necks. "Bill and Charlie are downstairs, and your mum is making breakfast," I announced, bending to give them each a quick peck on the cheek. They smiled, chiming together, "Wicked."

"Much better, dear," Mrs. Weasley stated as I came down the stairs with the twins. I smiled, and then went to fetch plates and silverware from where I helped put them away the night before. I got the table set in just a few minutes, and then, at the insistence of all present Weasleys (Percy, Ginny, and Mr. W had joined by then), took a seat at the table between Fred and George. We all spent the remainder of the morning laughing uproariously and stuffing ourselves full of some of the best pancakes I have ever tasted.

I loved being there with them. Everyone was nice to me, I never had to worry about who was talking behind my back or about to throw something at my head. The food was wonderful, and with the way that it was being shoved down my throat on every available opportunity I'm fairly sure I must've gained at least ten pounds during that week before Christmas.

Day passed quickly, spent either frolicking happily in the snow or holed up in the twins' room helping them experiment. I also had numerous opportunities to talk more with Bill and Charlie, who seemed to have taken a shine to me, as well as Mr. Weasley, who was fascinated by my knowledge of most things muggle, and Ginny, who adored having another girl around to just... well, be girly with. Even Percy wasn't so bad; sure, he was stuck-up, but he was also brilliant. We had quite a few extremely heated arguments over the way the Ministry of Magic was structured and, despite the fact that Mrs. Weasley had to send us to separate rooms to calm ourselves down, it really was rewarding intellectual conversation.

Evenings were fun as well. I enjoyed being able to just snuggle in front of the fire with Fred and George, sipping hot chocolate and laughing with their family. Charlie taught me chess and I taught him a Poker. Ginny and I painted each other's toes, and once we even did Mrs. Weasley's as well. All in all, I just had a really good time.

Nights, however, were an entirely different story. I was still too creeped out to sleep in Ron's room, the rat smell seeming to permeate ever dream I had, turning them all into nightmares about demonic, man-eating rodents chasing me down dark hallways. After two nights of that, I snuck into the twins' room and climbed into bed with Fred. That worked well and it was disturbingly wonderful to be able to fall asleep with his arms around me. He didn't mind, either. I asked him the next morning if he was bothered by having to share his bed with me. He answered with a flirty wink and the statement, "Ya, but in a really good way." That was good enough for me, so I decided that I'd be sleeping in Fred's bed for the rest of break.

Mrs. Weasley caught me the second morning it happened though, and we had to sit through a long talk about how improper it was for a girl and boy our age to be sleeping in the same room together, let alone the same bed.

So the next night I found myself in Ron's room again, glaring at the orange walls and trying not to breathe through my nose as I paced until morning. I was ok with that. I mean, it wasn't ideal, but I could survive on little to no sleep until I went back to Hogwarts.

Again, the second night is where I ran into a problem. Apparently, Bill and Charlie's room is right below Ron's, and Bill was being kept awake by the sounds of the ceiling creaking above him. He came up to investigate.

"Stella?" He yawned quietly as he cracked the door open and poked his head in, "Is everything alright?" Startled, I turned around too quickly and ended up tripping over my own feet, falling to the ground with a dull thud.

"Oh, sorry," Bill laughed, crossing the room to help me up, "I didn't mean to scare you... again."

"No, it's alright," I soothed, cracking a smile as I got to my feet, "That would be my fault. I can be a bit clumsy." Chuckling, Bill replied, "At least you're not as bad as your cousin. I remember Tonks taking out twenty suits of armor with a single stumble."

Despite the fact that I hadn't spoken to her at all since summer, thoughts of my cousin put a smile on my face. I was still furious with her, but... I missed her.

"Well," I laughed, trying to push those thoughts out of my head, "I suppose it's good to hear that I'm not quite as bad as her... um... was there something you wanted?"

With a big, charming grin, Bill responded, "Just checking on you. My bedroom's right below this one, and-"

"Oh my gosh!" I cut him off, instantly feeling guilty, "I woke you up! I'm so sorry, Bill! I had no idea!"

"Don't worry," He soothed sweetly as he sat down in Ron's still made bed. Patting the mattress beside himself, the lanky, shirtless man went on, "I've always been a light sleeper. I've always been quite curious, too. So what's the matter?"

Shrugging, I took the seat and responded, "It's nothing." In a rather brotherly gesture, he prodded me lightly in the side and laughed at me as he argued, "It's obviously not nothing or else we'd both be sleeping... though maybe still not me. I almost forgot how loud Chaz snores."

I managed a giggle at the remark, feeling very at ease in Bill's presence. He was nice, and just had that way about him. "It's just..." I admitted quietly, "I'm sort of terrified of rats..."

"Ah," Bill stated, catching on quickly, "And my baby brother's room does smell rather strongly of them, doesn't it?" With a weak nod, I said, "Ya, and... I don't know... I didn't want to make a fuss, but it was giving me nightmares."

"Can't have that," The redhead reported firmly, plucking his wand out of the waistband of his flannel pajama pants. With a quick wave and incantation, the room suddenly smelled like the inside of a candy store. Feeling a little stupid, I blushed and chuckled, "Now why didn't I think of that?"

"Because you're not supposed to be doing magic outside of school, young miss," Bill teased, winking. I suddenly couldn't stop giggling as I reported, "Doesn't mean I don't." We shared brief conspiratorial smirks.

"Thank you," I said, giving him a quick hug and kiss on the cheek, "It was really nice of you." He turned a little pink, but still looked pleased with himself, standing as he reported, "No trouble, love. Get some sleep now."

Smiling, I slipped under the covers as Bill walked out, turning off the light as he left. "Sweet dreams," He called lightly, leaving me to answer the same as I drifted off to sleep.

xxXxx

Everything was smooth sailing for a few days. I was still having unbelievable amounts of fun with the twins and their family, and I was also getting enough sleep at night. All was right with the world... well, within the sub-world of the Burrow anyways.

Before long it was Christmas morning, and I woke to find two giggling, freckled masses of teenage boy bouncing excitedly on either side of me.

"CHRISTMAS!" George squealed, grabbing me by the arm and trying to yank me out of bed. He wasn't successful seeing as how Fred grabbed my other arm at the same time and tried to yank me out the opposite direction, shouting, "GET UP! GET UP! GET UP!"

"Ouch!" I moaned, laughing between the vicious tugs that were threatening to split me right in half, "I'm up! Stop trying to tear me in two!"

"Hmm..." George hummed thoughtfully, not bothering to let go, "That doesn't sound like such a bad idea. One Stella for each of us, right twin?"

"I'm intrigued," Fred responded, making a big show of scratching a nonexistent beard on his strong square jaw, "No more of this sharing nonsense..."

"Oy!" I chuckled, finally wriggling free and ducking out from two tackles as I ran from the room. Over my shoulder, I teasingly called, "Hasn't your mother ever told you that good boys share?" I saw the twins exchange devilish smirks, chasing after me as they chimed, "No one ever said we were good boys!"

Giggling and shrieking, I ran quickly down five flights of stairs with Fred and then George right behind me. The living room was already packed with Weasleys, who I used to my advantage as I avoided the twins. I zigzagged between the amused, coffee-slurping parentals and then employed Ginny as a human shield, both of us cackling joyously as I maneuvered her small frame in between me and her pair of crazed brothers.

"What are you doing?" I heard Percy ask haughtily as he followed us down the stairs a few moments later. "Gonna catch Stel. Cut her in half," Fred replied impatiently, a wide grin on his handsome freckled face. With an identical mischievous expression, George finished, "One for each of us. Don't have to share no more."

"Oh, for the the love of..." Mrs. Weasley chuckled warmly, "You boys and your crazy ideas..."

"Help!" I laughed, feeling playful as I ducked out from behind Ginny and ran to shelter myself between Bill and Charlie, "I don't want to be cut in half! Two of me means twice the homework!"

"Twice the presents though," Bill supplied helpfully, flashing a sweet grin. I giggled and smacked him on the arm, ducking out from another pair of grabs before finally finding myself face-to-face with Percy. I paused and then cracked up when I saw his fuzzy blue bunny slippers--a gift from Ginny, I later found out.

The twins used the momentary distraction to tackle me roughly into the couch, somehow managing to straddle me side-by-side as they both tickled me fiercely. Gasping and convulsing, I could barely draw breath and was giggling so hard that speech was nearly impossible.

"AH! HAHAHA! ST-STO-AHHAHA! STOP!" I choked, writhing beneath the twins, squirming and bucking my hips and doing anything I could think of to get them off me. It was futile. Individually each one was twice my weight and strong as an ox. Together they were an inescapable force of nature. I was quite screwed.

And then I suddenly wasn't. Blinking through hysterical tears of laughter and trying desperately to catch my breath, I looked up and saw that Charlie was holding both twins off the ground by the scruffs of their necks. Wow. Chivalrous and super-human strong. I'll be damned if that wasn't kind of hot...

"Shouldn't you two be picking on someone your own size?" Charlie inquired flatly, smirking as he sent rather pointed looks between his two little brothers. Struggling with his feet several inches off the carpet, Fred pouted, "But we like picking on Stella."

"Ya," George agreed eagerly, sounding like he was being choked a bit by the collar of his white t-shirt, "Nobody squeals like Stella... well, except maybe Ginny, but we got in trouble last time we made her."

"Because you hid a garden gnome in my bed!" Ginny grumbled crossly, munching on a variety of sweets from a present she'd already opened. At the memory, the twins snickered jointly.

I'd finally caught my breath, jumping up to my feet to grin evilly at the trapped pair. I stood on the couch and leaned forward to peck Charlie on the forehead, singing sweetly, "Thank you. Last time they decided they were in the mood to tickle me I ended up nearly wetting myself."

Charlie blushed crimson all the way up to his hairline, so shocked that he dropped the twins and then stuttered, "Y-You're, um, you're welcome." The man was strong and rugged and fierce, but still just a shy little boy at heart. It was really rather adorable.

And with that, I hopped down from the couch and dove into my presents. Probably at the prompting of Tonks, Auntie Andromeda and Uncle Ted sent me some sorely needed new uniforms. Tonks herself sent ridiculous amounts of candy, as well as some cute casual clothes that actually fit me. Remus sent lots of books, and chocolate, and a new robe.

I'm not heartless. Even though I was fighting with most of my family, I sent them presents as well. Everyone got homemade fudge Mrs. Weasley helped me make a few days earlier. It was fantastically yummy. I also sent Remus a rare book I knew he wanted that I'd found at a rummage sale on a walk through the muggle town with the twins. Auntie Andromeda and Uncle Ted got a pretty framed landscape from the same rummage sale, and I made Tonks a funky patchwork skirt out of some of my old clothes that I'd either outgrown completely or worn out.

Harry didn't get me anything that year. I didn't expect him to, since he was still convinced I was conspiring against him, but I sent the crazy boy a broom servicing kit.

As I sat there amidst all the wrapping paper and happiness, I couldn't help missing my family. I really hoped they liked the little I'd gotten them.

"Stella!" George called out, flopping down beside me wearing his new blue Weasley sweater--courtesy of his mum, of course, and complete with the obligatory gold G label--as well as a bright fuchsia bobble hat--courtesy of Ginny and her burgeoning knitting skills. He flashed me a wide smile, thrusting a present into my hands as he ordered, "Mine next!"

I laughed, giving him his gift--a magically enhanced joke buzzer and charmed squirting lapel flower I was sure he'd enjoy--before inspecting the package. It was an odd wrapping job, but George's always are since he has a knack for picking oddly-shaped presents. A sheet of shiny purple foil was folded and taped into a long, skinny envelope with a bulge in the middle and on one end. The form reminded me somewhat of a belt, but it was far too small for that. I mean, the twins were still giving me flack about my unhealthy weight, but George would have to be blind to think that thing would fit around my waist. I guess maybe it would, if I wasn't so fond of circulation...

But I opened it and was relieved to see that it was not a belt. It was a dog collar, black leather and spike studded, with a blank metal star-shaped tag hanging from the middle. "For your puppy," He explained proudly, already having the time of his life using the charmed flower to squirt Charlie with water from across the room, not to mention experimentally shocking himself on the leg with the buzzer, "I'll do the engraving charm on the tag when you finally pick a name."

"It's wonderful!" I cried, leaning over to trap him in a big hug, managing to get the front of my shirt soaked in the process. Not minding all that much, I hummed against his neck, "Thanks, Georgie!" It was a great gift, and it made me wish I'd brought my dog with me instead of leaving him, along with my turtle, in Hagrid's capable hands. I sent the groundskeeper some fudge and a National Geographic picture book about sharks as a thank you.

"My turn," Fred sang happily as he slid to the floor behind me, hugging my body to his broad chest and resting his chin on my shoulder. He produced a small, square box that fit right into the palm of my hand. The paper he wrapped it in was a beautiful deep blue, with silver stars all over it, and the whole thing was tied with a frilly silver bow.

I turned to grin at my friend, giving him his present: a large encyclopedia of practical jokes and a framed picture of him and me posing with an anatomically correct snowman we'd made earlier in the week while George pelts us with snowballs from the corner. My favorite part of the picture is when Ginny runs through, seizes the carrot, and takes a big chomping bite of it. Anyways, as Fred made short work of the wrapping paper on his gift, I delved into mine.

After the bow and paper fell away I found a little black felt ring box and inside the ring box I found, you guessed it, a ring. A bed of soft black felt held a thin silver band connected at the top by a delicate silver star.

"Oh," I cooed happily, automatically slipping it onto my right ring finger, "Freddie, it's so pretty! I love it!" Almost as soon as it touched my skin, the previously empty interior of the star suddenly burst with color, flashing through the whole spectrum of the rainbow before finally settling on a swirling mixture of bright pinks and purples. I was absolutely mesmerized.

Fred smiled against my neck, taking my small hand in his and gently brushing his thumb across my knuckles as he proudly stated, "I got the idea from those muggle mood rings we saw at the rummage sale. They were cool, but they didn't work, so I made one myself. You get to be the test dummy, and if they work, then me and George will have another product for when we open our own shop."

"It's great," I stated happily, "So what do pink and purple mean?" Sounding rather pleased with himself, Fred reported, "Purple is happy and pink is loved. Red is embarrassed, orange is angry, yellow is hyper, light green is sick or in pain, dark green is stressed, light blue is calm, dark blue is bored, black is scared, white is sad, gray is lonely, and brown is confused. And the intensity of the color will tell how strongly you're feeling each emotion."

"Wow," I hummed, incredibly impressed as I watched the swirling pinks and purples throb brighter inside the star, "This is really complicated magic. It must've taken you forever."

"Ya, well," He replied, blushing as he squirmed and hugged me tighter, "I thought it would be perfect for you and then I had to make it. In case you're ever not talking to me again, I'll still be able to tell how you're feeling." Sighing sadly, I responded, "I'm sorry for that, you know? Everything just got really out of hand."

"I do know," He stated quietly, pecking me swiftly on the cheek, "I'm sorry, too. I flew off the handle about the drinking thing, but you just really scared me. You're my best friend and I love you. I don't want to see you hurt."

I smiled softly, announcing, "Right now, I'm perfect, so thanks for that."

"Here you go, Stel," Bill cut in, dropping two overly large bags of assorted candies into my lap. With a bright grin, he stated, "From me and Charlie. Happy Christmas."

"Happy Christmas!" I laughed back, throwing him and Charlie each a wrapped package. Bill got an Indiana Jones adventure novel and Charlie got several comic books. Merlin bless rummage sales; I'd never be able to afford Christmas without them. All the gifts I got for the other members of the Weasley family I got there as well. Mr. Weasley got two encyclopedia volumes--E and P because I thought he'd appreciate being able to look up electricity and plug. Mrs. Weasley got a southwestern cookbook. Percy got an old copy of Gulliver's Travels. Ginny got a pretty pair of dangly earrings.

It was a fantastic morning. Other gifts I received included a pair of cozy purple mittens from Mrs. Weasley, a matching hat and scarf from Ginny, a package of sugar quills from Percy, and an old Sex Pistols 8-track cartridge from Mr. Weasley. I had nothing to play it on, but it was still pretty cool just to have. All in all, I was utterly content. If I could've frozen that moment to keep forever in my pocket, I would have.

I could've done without the bottle of vodka Oliver sent me. Up until that point, I'd pretty much completely forgotten he existed, and I also hadn't had a drink or cigarette since I left Hogwarts. I didn't need to be reminded of the mess I'd gotten myself into with him, and I really didn't need the added hassle of having to hide and resist a large bottle of alcohol while in a room full of Weasleys.

Of course, I sent him condoms. He was probably engaged in a rousing Christmas morning game of Hide-the-Contraband himself, so I guess I really shouldn't complain.

"Here's one more for you, Stel," George reported as he crawled out from beneath the otherwise present-free tree, tinsel and pine needles sticking out from his shaggy red hair. He held out a large flat box wrapped in brown packing paper. Not having expected anything else, I gave the gift a curious shake as I asked, "Who's it from?"

"Doesn't say," George shrugged, flopping down on my left and biting into a licorice wand as Fred, juggling three big mugs of eggnog, returned to sit on my right. As he distributed the wonderful-smelling beverages among us, he laughed impatiently, "Come on, Stel, open it already."

And I did. And I soon as I saw what was inside, my mouth dropped. A hand flew up to cover the sobbing gasp as tears sprang into my eyes.

Seeming very concerned, George leaned over my shoulder and asked, "What is it?"

Trance-like, almost unable to find my voice, I whispered, "A leather jacket."

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

WOOOOOO! Fun stuff. So, I'm back at college. I don't know how often you guys can expect updates, but I'll do my very best.

Review may make my dorm room less sweltering hot. Help me out here people; I've already lost several percent of my body weight through sweat.