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

12. Home Again

Part 12 - Home Again

It was still dark when fate presented me with my next course of action.

It was still dark early in the morning on June 10th. The streets of Birmingham were still mostly deserted.

I'd been wandering around for hours since I killed Claire, my mind caught somewhere between a panic overload and a complete shutdown.

I had just been raped by a woman. I had just murdered one of my friends. And they just so happened to be the same person.

Talk about a head trip.

The neighborhood I was in was sort of bad, one of those places grownups tell young girls not to wander through alone, and especially not at night. I was in a dazed stupor, my eyes frozen in front of myself, when a nervous-looking middle-aged man suddenly fell into step beside me.

Even though I knew he was there, it still took me almost half a block to actually notice him. I turned slightly and saw that he was a brunette with thinning hair, with wire-rimmed glasses and an average physique that had gone soft from years of neglect. He gave me a jumpy smile, fiddling with his glasses and smoothing down out his cheap suit before asking, "How much?"

"What?" I replied, unable to comprehend the meaning in his words as my slow, drug-addled brain continued to struggle with the previous events of the evening.

Glancing anxiously up and down the street, the man clarified, "How much for straight sex? Do I pay for the room, too?"

My feet stopped moving and it felt like I'd been slapped across the face.

He thought I was a prostitute.

Looking back, I suppose the super-short school-girl mini and the fact that I was strolling in that neighborhood at night probably made me fit the part. However, being called a hooker was not beneficial to my mental health at the time.

I don't know how I got the idea into my head, but the next thing I knew I was smiling silkily at him, practically purring as I stepped real close and cooed, "Who needs a room, big boy?" I drew a gentle finger down the line of his convulsively bobbing throat and gestured to a dark, deserted alley over my shoulder, challenging, "Where's your sense of adventure?"

He just about blew his load right there, beginning to drool as he eagerly demanded, "How much?"

After a brief moment of contemplation, I offered, "A hundred."

"Fifty," He argued.

"Seventy-five," I countered.

"Done," He chirped.

Smiling, I grabbed him by the wrist and led him along behind me into the alley. Once there I pushed him into the wall and ground against him as he hurriedly began tugging me out of my clothes, ripping open my shirt, flipping up my skirt and tearing at my thong in a rush to get it off.

I only had to kiss him once, bite down my gag reflex as I cupped my hand against the front of his trousers in order to elicit a moment of distraction, a low, frantic moan.

Then I dug my switchblade out of the pocket of my leather jacket, pushed the button and pressed the knife right up against his Adam's apple as I stepped back. "Give me your wallet," I ordered coldly.

He stood there, frozen to the spot, eyes wide and startled and desperate, his hard cock already leaking a dark stain against the tent of his crotch. "What?" He gaped, not enough blood flowing to the brain he was in need of at the moment.

I smirked wickedly, repeating very slowly, "Give. Me. Your. Wallet. You. Stupid. Fuck." I was hoping he wouldn't argue or try to fight back. I was still weak and drugged and I really don't think I could have taken him.

But I had the knife, and he was scared shitless and whimpered as he handed over the wad of bills and leather. Still holding him at knifepoint, not bothering to close my shirt, I idly flipped through it. I was rather pleased to find several hundred dollars in cash, as well as credit cards and I.D.'s and several pictures of a pretty blonde woman and three young children.

"Wife and kids?" I inquired flatly as I held up a charming photo of the smiling foursome.

The man nodded dumbly, seeming ashamed now on top of afraid.

Rolling my eyes, I tucked the money and cards away and scolded, "You have a woman at home who loves you, you have children with her, and you're out here in the middle of the night trolling for tail? What is wrong with you?"

His gaze fell to his feet for a brief moment, before he remembered that I had a knife on him and he should probably keep an eye on it. The shame was still clearly present.

"Go home, you idiot," I commanded, shoving him off down the alley and throwing his empty wallet at the back of his head, "And don't ever let me catch you out here again! I've got your address now and I won't hesitate to pay your wife a visit if I even hear of you pulling anymore of this bullshit!"

For a few seconds, he stumbled and then stared at me, like he was unsure if he should listen or not. Eventually, he decided that he probably should and took off running.

I shook my head at him and counted up my cash before walking to the bus station. I bought a ticket to London.

xxXxx

I spent the next week posing as a hooker and robbing anyone who attempted to purchase my services. It was pretty fun, actually. I didn't feel bad about stealing from men who were trying to pay for sex, especially since most of them had wives or girlfriends. I targeted the rich guys so by the end of the week I had almost five thousand dollars in cold hard cash. I made even more selling their I.D.'s and credit cards.

Unfortunately, that was about the time the friendly neighborhood pimp figured out what I was doing. He wasn't too fond of me stealing business and scaring away customers, so he started trying to track me down. He almost caught me one night and I decided that it was time to skip town.

But I didn't know where to go.

I knew where not to go, that was for sure. I wouldn't go back to Hogwarts or the loony bin. I'd even begun planning an elaborate self-sacrifice if anyone tried to send me to either.

It was an odd time in my life.

So I decided to, once again, let fate make the call. I cut my hair short and dyed it black and bright purple and set off for Diagon Alley, for the public floos.

Just before stepping in, I saw a Daily Prophet tacked to the wall. The headline read: "Sirius Black Still At Large."

I grinned, threw down a handful of floo powder and called out, "My destiny."

xxXxx

Apparently, "my destiny" sounds very similar to the Arabic name of a wizarding bar in Damietta, Egypt.

Who knew?

The city was hot, so alive and utterly gorgeous there along the coast of the Mediterranean. I felt more like a person again just from being there.

My path set now, I bought a small motor boat and headed down the Nile River. I went through Cairo, Asyut, Luxor, and Lake Nasser before making it into Sudan. Next came Atbara, Omdurman, and the capital city of Khartoum.

The Nile splits there, into the White Nile and the Blue Nile. I stayed on the White, continuing on through Sudan, through Kusti, Bor, and Nimule. Then there was Uganda, where the White Nile becomes the Albert Nile. I followed it to Lake Albert, on the border with the Democratic Republic of the Congo. From there, I hopped over to the Victoria Nile, following it through Lake Kwania and Lake Kyoga, and then into Lake Victoria itself. I stayed along the west coast of the lake, visiting the capital city of Kampala before making my way onwards and into Tanzania.

That was where the convenient waterway ended for me, so I sold my boat and bought a bicycle and kept on heading south. The regions I went through spoke mostly Arabic, French, and English. My French was decent and my Arabic was mediocre, although I picked it, along with some of the native languages, up quickly as I traveled.

After spending so many months in the dead zone of the hospital, my brain was firing on high in celebration of being back in the world. Every sensation was heightened, smells smelled like heaven, good food could make me whimper in pleasure, and the intense sun caressing my bare skin was the most beautiful feeling in the whole world, chased away a cold I hadn't even realized was lurking deep inside me.

And I actually did ok. I was completely sober the whole time I was traveling and... I didn't feel so hopeless and afraid all the time. That made all the difference.

I tried not to think about Claire, but I still did sometimes. I cried during those times, feeling confused and betrayed and disgusted with what happened... and so sorry. so guilty. so angry.

I was in Mwanza when I came ashore but made it to Tabora a week or two of long, hot days of riding, where, by chance, I found use of an unguarded floo. I was pretty sick of bike riding and had about three seconds to decide anywhere in the world I wanted to go and, almost without thinking, I called out, "The Burrow."

xxXxx

Six months had passed while I was on my journey through Africa, my journey without a real destination, my journey to nowhere.

It hadn't seemed like six months. Hell, it seemed more like six minutes to me, six days at the most. But, there it was: six months. I'd been missing for six months.

And life had kept going without me in it.

It was late November when I arrived, and the Burrow was deserted when I fell out of the fireplace. That was good. I wanted to be there, but I knew if anyone saw me, they'd send me back to school or the nut house.

I raided the kitchen and holed up in the twins' bedroom.

For two weeks.

I still giggle over it. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley didn't notice me for a whole two weeks.

I'd probably still be hiding under Fred's bed if it hadn't been for Charlie showing up unexpectedly.

I'd been rather out of the loop as far as wizarding news went. I didn't want to be recognized and dragged back, so I had tried my best to steer clear of wizard communities and to use magic as little as possible. I had no idea about my dad's escape from Ministry custody in June or about the Triwizard Tournament or about the scandal with Harry being a champion along with Cedric Diggory.

I had no idea that Charlie would be bringing dragons across the ocean for the first task, or that he would decide to pop in to visit his parents once they were settled on the Hogwarts grounds.

I'd gotten fairly used to the schedule by then, when Mr. Weasley left for work and Mrs. Weasley left to run errands or visit friends. I timed my excursions outside the room to coincide with them.

So, imagine my surprise when I wandered into the kitchen that Monday afternoon to restock my food supply and smacked straight into a broad, solid chest.

"OOF!" I cried out sharply, immediately getting knocked straight on my arse. Confused and apprehensive, I looked up and Charlie Weasley was staring down at me, his mouth hanging wide open, a sandwich abandoned in midair halfway to it.

"Who the bloody hell are you?" He demanded angrily, snatching his wand out of the waistband of his low-slung blue jeans and holding it on me like he was daring me to just try to attack him. It might have been scary if wasn't still holding the ham and cheese.

I smiled sheepishly, asking, "Is it a good thing or a bad thing that you don't recognize me?"

He stared hard for a few long moments.

I can't say I blame him for not knowing who I was. I looked quite different since he saw me last. My hair was a lot shorter, barely skimming my shoulders, uneven and spiky and hanging in my gray-blue eyes. The blonde roots had grown out so I had sort of a strange tri-color thing going on as it meshed with the faded black and purple dyes. I was a little taller and a little thinner, though probably more fit and muscular and healthy from my time in the boat and on the bike. My tan was dark from being in the sun so much, and I had long ago abandoned my school girl uniform in favor of a backless pale purple halter and a pair of sturdy but ripped-up jeans.

I must've looked like an entirely different person.

But he did finally get it, blue eyes widening as his wand arm sagged and he asked disbelievingly, "Stella?"

"The one and the only," I countered, carefully getting back to my feet. Smiling cautiously, I asked, "You're not going to tell on me, are you?"

"Tell on you?" He shouted wildly, "Stella, you've been missing for six bloody months!! Everyone's been going ape shit trying to find you!!"

"Really?" I inquired flatly, "Six months? That long? Huh..."

It really didn't seem like that long.

"Where the hell have you been?" Charlie demanded, seizing me by the arm and steering me to take a seat at the kitchen table, "Are you alright? How did you get back here?"

"I'm fine," I stated evenly, lying only a little because I wasn't fine but I wasn't a complete mess anymore either. I didn't drink anymore, I hadn't heard any voices lately, and being away from The Hell That Was Hogwarts had done wonders for my self-esteem, as well as my self-respect.

"I've been in Africa," I continued brightly, sort of hoping he wouldn't ask anymore questions even though I already knew he would, "I explored down the Nile and then... and then I came here. I couldn't really think of anywhere else to go and I got tired of biking... are you going to tell them I'm here?"

I'd gone so long without being stared at like I was a mental case that seeing the look from Charlie felt weird and a bit insulting. "Mum and Dad don't know you're here?" He asked, grabbing a fistful off his close-cropped ginger hair as he sank down into the chair next to mine, "When did you arrive?"

My gaze fell to my lap, where I was nervously picking at my fingernails. I shrugged, quietly answering, "About two weeks ago."

"TWO WEEKS?" He shouted, making me jump as he leapt up to his feet and began to pace. I was getting nervous. I wanted to run again but I knew that Charlie wasn't going to let me. The Weasley's were just like that.

"You've been here for two bloody weeks and you're just stopping in to tell someone now?" He yelped, looking to be at the end of his rope as he strolled restlessly from one end of the kitchen to the other and back again.

With a nervous little chuckle, I stated, "Um, not exactly..."

He stared at me. Then it clicked. "You've been living here?" He gaped, strong, square jaw hanging wide open, "Without telling my parents? Without them noticing?"

"Well, in all fairness," I said, "I have been trying to keep under their radar so them not noticing is really not their own faults."

"Stella," He groaned, tugging sharply on his hair, "What the hell are we going to do with you?"

"You could pretend you never saw me," I suggested hopefully, "I'll just hide until the twins come home for break so I can see them before I decide what to do next."

"They aren't coming home for break," Charlie announced, still pacing, "Haven't you been reading the papers?"

"No," I grumbled, "I don't read the Prophet. They're a bunch of fucking arseholes and I've been boycotting them since I was old enough to read."

Charlie groaned again, bellowing, "The Triwizard Tournament is at Hogwarts! The first task is tomorrow."

"Delightful," I chirped, a little peeved by the seemingly unrelated announcement, "What's that got to do with the twins not coming home for break?"

"The school is having a Yule Ball," He explained, voice clipped and barely restrained, "It's traditional. Everyone's staying for it."

"Oh," I mumbled, a little disappointed. The extent of my plan for the future had been just to hide until the twins came home. I was going to jump out of their closet and surprise them in the middle of the night. I hadn't decided what mask to wear yet, but it was between Nixon and Michael Myers...

Is that weird?

It is, isn't it? It's really, really weird...

"And what do you mean 'pretend I never saw you'?" Charlie demanded somewhat crossly, "Haven't you come back for good? Don't you want to return to school?"

"NO!!" I shrieked, instantly panicked, toppling my chair as I jumped up and away from the stocky man, "No, I won't go back there!! You can't make me go back there!!"

"Stella," Charlie soothed, taking a few cautious steps towards me with his thick arms held up in a gesture of submission, "Calm down. I'm not saying you have to go. I just thought you would. Relax. It's alright."

I didn't even realize I'd begun to cry until after I let him pull me into a strong, comforting hug, until after I buried my face against his ratty cotton t-shirt and felt it soaking through with tears.

xxXxx

We didn't pretend he hadn't seen me and that sort of blew. No amount of begging, screaming, or perfectly calm, rational arguments managed to persuade the redhead. He made me sit there with him in the kitchen until his mother came home about an hour later.

The reunion was not altogether unpleasant. There was much crying. She made macaroni for lunch and forced me to eat three massive helpings.

And then I had to start explaining myself.

I didn't reveal too much, just like I said before that I'd been in Africa and then hiding in the twins' room.

That's when I found out about the warrant for my arrest.

Seems like I was the prime suspect in the murder of Claire Marie Zevach.

And with good reason, seeing as how I was the one who killed her.

I calmly confessed this fact. Mrs. Weasley started crying again and Charlie's face turned stony as he stared at anything that wasn't me.

I told them that it had been an accident, but couldn't share them details. I just couldn't... the only way I was able to live with myself was by pretending that none of it had happened most of the time. Saying the whole story out loud would've shattered the fragile illusion I'd made for myself, would've made what Claire did to me and what I did to her real again. And I couldn't do that.

Mr. Weasley arranged for me to turn myself over to the Ministry the following morning. It wasn't so bad. Mrs. Weasley made a really yummy turkey dinner and I got to sleep in Fred's bed one last night before Tonks showed up to take me into custody, only restraining herself from crying and tackling me to the floor because it would not have been at all professional. She had to settle for a brief but loving hug and a whisper of her full support.

I was pretty glad to see her, too. All my previous anger at the young metamorphamagus seemed to have dried up during our prolonged separation. Sure, I was still ticked at both her and Remus for lying to me about my dad, but he'd been proven innocent to both of them. And I'd missed both of them.

After leaving the Burrow, with a second helping of the eggs from breakfast wrapped up neatly on a paper plate, everything happened in fast motion.

I was booked and officially charge with murder. My trial was scheduled for the early afternoon and I spent a few hours in a holding cell in the building. Tonks sat with me and held my hand while I talked with my lawyer. He was a nice old man named Mr. Besnick and he explained the procedures to me very kindly and patiently.

After only a few hours, I was led into a large dungeon type room. It was round and made out of old stones and a group of officials was seated on high tiers all around me, conversing in low, disapproving voices. I caught a few snatches of dialogue and it didn't look particularly good for me coming in.

I sat down in a little wooden chair in the center of the room and was immediately wrapped in heavy metal chains. Those at my defense, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Charlie, Tonks, Auntie Andromeda, Uncle Ted, Uncle Remus, and even Dumbledore himself, along with Mr. Besnick, all gave a loud cry of objection to the treatment.

"It's not as if she's going to jump up and attack you!!" Tonks shouted angrily at the interrogators, "She's a fifteen-year-old girl, for Merlin's sake!! Take the blasted chains off her!!"

"I must agree," Mr. Besnick stated, frowning quite unhappily, "Restraints are highly unnecessary! Miss Black has assured me that the death of Miss Zevach was entirely accidental!"

"I don't mind," I piped up quietly, squirming to get comfortable under the weight of all that metal, "If it gets this over with as quickly as possible, I don't mind."

"There you have it," Fudge announced haughtily, "Now, let's get on with the proceedings. Stella Eris Black, you are charged with the crime of murder in the death of Claire Marie Zevach. How do you plead?"

I thought about it for a long moment before remembering what Mr. Besnick had told me to say. "Oh," I stated, "Oh, um, I plead not guilty."

"Very well," Fudge drawled, seeming quite anxious to be able to just sentence me to life in prison already. If he couldn't get my dad, I was the next best thing. And, besides, we Blacks were obviously a bad bunch. It would be best to be rid of as many of us as possible. "This committee has already reviewed the evidence available to it," He coldly announced, "Do you have anything more to add in your own defense?"

"Yes," I answered very quietly, unable to look anyone in the eye because I knew that there was only one thing I could do to stay out of prison, "Yes, I would like to offer my memory of that night so the court can... can see what happened and why it wasn't my fault."

Fudge nodded, snapping his fingers at a weedy little clerk... who I was horrified to notice was actually Percy Weasley, "Very well. A pensieve will be provided and a member of the committee will perform the memory extraction spell. Is that acceptable?"

"Yes," I said, stunned at seeing Percy on the side of the prosecution, "But I would like for my family and friends and lawyer to please leave the room while the memory is being shown."

"Stella," Remus stated lowly, laying a gentle hand on my shoulder, "We want to be here for you."

Staring up at him, I felt my eyes fill with tears. After everything, he still just wanted to be there for me. They all did. And I didn't deserve that. I was an awful person.

"I know," I answered, gaze falling once more, "I know you do, and I appreciate it, but I-I don't want you to see."

They all looked like they wanted to argue but not one did and allowed themselves to be led out while the pensieve was being set up and rigged to project my memory onto a large, blank section of the wall.

"Percy too, please," I requested quietly, not wanting him to see either.

"Who, Weatherby?" Fudge grumbled, eyeing Percy with distaste, "He is a representative of this court and he's taking my notes. He stays."

"Please," I whispered, unable to look up from my feet, three seconds from bursting in to tears, "Percy's... he's my friend. I don't want him to see."

"He stays," Fudge growled angrily, "And if you attempt to delay the proceedings any further, the interrogators and I will simply decide the case without your evidence."

On some level, I knew that he couldn't do that. I knew it would be highly illegal and, had I not kicked Mr. Besnick out, he would have torn Fudge a new arsehole for trying to intimidate me like that.

But I was all alone, and so scared, and I didn't want to go to jail. Snifling pitifully, still unable to look up, I whispered, "Fine."

Soon it was just the interrogators, Percy, and me. Amelia Bones, the head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, came down to extract my memory and insert it into the pensieve projector.

"Claire, stop it! Claire! Stop! Get off me! Let go!"

"It's ok, baby. No one can keep us apart now. We'll be together."

I couldn't watch while it was being played and closed my eyes and cried the whole way through.

I was cleared of all charges.

xxXxx

The trial was over before lunch, before the first task was set to take place at Hogwarts, and I somehow managed to let Charlie talk me into going.

"It's not like I'm trying to make you move back into the dorms and start lessons," He argued brightly as he dragged me along with one thick arm looped around my shoulders, "Just come watch. It'll be good for you to have something to do until you can actually have a sit down with everyone later tonight. No one will even recognize you since you look so bloody healthy. And, besides, don't you want to see the twins?"

I did want to see them. More than anything. So that was what swung the situation in Charlie's favor.

The crowds made me nervous. Hell, close to a full-fledged panic attack would probably be a more accurate description. I stuck tightly to Charlie's side the entire time we were walking through the throngs of students and other assorted onlookers, praying that no one would recognize me.

"Relax already," Charlie soothed, chuckling lightly as we headed to the area reserved for the dragon keepers, "Merlin, you'd think I was trying to feed you to Norbert."

I didn't respond. He didn't know how bad Hogwarts was for me and I wasn't about to tell him.

"Come on," He said as he steered me to a rather excellent seat right in the front row and handed me a pair of omnioculars, "Sit down and watch and enjoy yourself. It should be quite a show."

"Can't we find Fred and George?" I asked, very aware of how pathetic and whiny I must've sounded.

Charlie shot me a crooked grin, ruffling my short, shaggy hair and stating, "Of course we can, but I've got to get to work so I can't help you do it until after. You're welcome to go on your own-"

"No, no," I quickly cut him off, turning to scan the crowd for them, "That's ok. I'll wait for you to come with me." I was utterly terrified of the Hogwarts student body and I did not want to be alone with them. In the dragon keeper section, I was surrounded only by friends and employees of Charlie and they'd been given instructions to watch after me. If I left the safe haven they provided... well, anything could have happened. And I didn't want things to be exactly the same as I remembered them.

The task was first underway. Cedric Diggory was first, facing a Swedish Short-Snout. It was an immense creature, silvery-blue with a squashed face that sort of reminded me of Hermione's cat. My heart was in my throat the entire time I watched. He was one of the few people who actually bothered to be nice to me while I was at Hogwarts and I guess I had a bit of a soft spot for him because of it. I cheered wildly.

Fleur Delacour and Victor Krum, the Beauxbatons and Durmstrang champions fought a Welsh Green and a Chinese Fireball, respectively. Both seemed confident and suspiciously well-prepared.

And then there was Harry. I'd been wondering all day about how I was going to react to seeing him again. I... wasn't sure. I didn't know how to feel. He'd been in on torturing me and I hated him for that, but... he was Harry. He was my baby god-brother. A part of me hoped that there would be some way for us to move past what happened.

He walked out into the dragon pit, nervous and fidgety.

"BOOOOOOOOOO!!!!" I shouted over the dead quiet, "YOU SUCK, POTTER!!!!!!"

Huh.

Turned out that moving past what happened was going to take a bit more time than I originally thought.

Harry scowled as he glance my way, scanning the stadium for a face to match the insult. He saw me and a brief moment of wide-eyed, unsure recognition passed over his features.

I gave him the finger.

But that was the extent of our interaction because the Hungarian Horntail chose that moment to attempt to flatten Harry and he had to get back to his little champion thingie. It was quite entertaining to watch him get nearly roasted over and over again as he darted around the massive black dragon on his broom.

And then it was over. Harry actually did well, grabbing the gold egg with the best time and tying for first place with Krum. I wanted to be proud. I really did. However...

"YOU GOT LUCKY THIS TIME, BITCH, BUT JUST WAIT UNTIL THE NEXT TASK!! YOU'RE GOING DOWN!! THAT'S RIGHT, YOU'D BETTER RUN AWAY FROM ME!! NO FANCY FLYING IS GOING TO KEEP ME FROM LIGHTING YOU ON FIRE!!"

I hurled a box of popcorn at the Boy Who Lived and almost hit him as he was limping off towards the tent he'd come from.

"Why are you heckling Harry?" Charlie asked as he came jogging up a few minutes later, sweaty and shirtless and slightly scorched.

I shrugged.

After just staring at me strangely for a bit, mopping his flushed, freckled forehead with his t-shirt, Charlie finally drawled, "Ya... alright then... well, are you ready to find the twins?"

"Yes!" I agreed happily, really, really excited for the first time in quite a long time.

But then I happened to catch sight of myself reflected in one of the shiny surfaces of a serving dish on the table of food that had been provided for the dragon keepers.

"Bloody hell!" I gaped in horror, "Why didn't anyone tell me that my hair looked so wretched?" The black and purple dyes had faded to dull brown and peach, a few inches of my blonde roots showing through. Seeing as how I cut it myself, the style was uneven, spiky and wild.

Frowning, Charlie responded quite petulantly, "Your hair looks fine."

"It does not!" I snarled, jabbing him hard in the chest, "Don't lie to me! It looks bloody awful!" I turned back to the shiny serving dish, staring at my reflection for a few more moments before declaring, "Well, that's it! I can't see the twins like this! We have to go home!"

"What?" Charlie gaped, "You want to go home? The whole point of this was to see the twins and now you're backing out just because you think your hair is bad?"

"Yup," I chirped, looping my arm through his and heading off in the direction of Hogsmeade, "That about covers it."

"But I already wrote the twins saying I had a surprise!" The redhead protested weakly, "What am I supposed to tell them?"

I shrugged, bluntly answering, "The truth: that the surprise is having a bad hair day."

xxXxx

"You're bloody ridiculous," Charlie exclaimed, fidgeting uncomfortably in the salon as he waited for Mrs. Weasley and I to get our hair done, "You do know that, right?"

Beaming quite happily, I responded, "Yes. And thank you for using 'ridiculous' instead of 'insane.' It's a narrow distinction that not many people bother to get correct."

He blushed, squirming in his seat as he looked away. The poor man grabbed a magazine, a Cosmo, and flipped through a few pages. It wasn't long before he turned three shades of red darker and flung the publication hurriedly away.

"Stella, dear," Mrs. Weasley stated, enraptured with a copy of the same issue her son was so frightened by. I read the cover story: "75 Sexy Ways to Thrill a Man: Warning, by #18 He'll Barely Remember His Name."

It was so hard not to laugh at Charlie's predicament.

"Ya, Mrs. W?" I giggled brightly, trying to sit still as the stylist worked on my hair.

"Have you thought about what you'd like to do?" The kind woman questioned, looking like she was thoroughly enjoying my idea of a day at the salon. Turning and giving me a serious look, she continued, "I'm not suggesting you should go back to... that place... but maybe you should reconsider school. If you don't finish your sixth year, they'll snap your wand."

I looked down at my feet, trying desperately to squash down the feelings of terror Hogwarts brought up. "I was going to see about an equivalency test," I stated quietly, "I really don't want to go back."

I could feel her warm expression on me even though I couldn't see her.

"But you're so smart," She pressed gently, "The twins always used to brag about how well you were doing. I thought maybe you'd like to give it another try. You could do so much, go so far."

Shaking my head, I replied, "No. You don't understand what it was like."

She placed a soft hand over mine, making me look up to meet her kind blue eyes. "So tell me," She prodded, sweet and motherly, "I know... I know we didn't listen enough before and I just don't want you to end up feeling so low again."

"Don't make me go back to school and I won't," I responded resolutely, turning away to signify that the conversation was absolutely over.

Because it was.

That was it.

There was no way in hell they were getting me back to Hogwarts.

xxXxx

My hair was once again blonde and neatly cut to fall just below my jaw. I had bangs and a smile on my face and I sat down in the twins' room back at the Burrow to write my two favorite redheads in the world a long letter.

Only... nothing came out.

What was I supposed to say to them? After everything, what was there to say?

When Remus finally arrived two hours later for our meeting, the parchment was still blank and I was frowning.

I heard a hesitant knock at the door, followed shortly after by Remus' graying hair and sheepish smile. "Hello, love," He greeted, approaching me slowly, like he was afraid of how I would react to his presence, "How are you feeling?"

"Not crazy, if that's what you wanted to know," I answered, smirking slightly to let him know it was a joke when his already ashy face paled. Crossing the room in an instant, I tugged the old man into a tight hug, burying my face against his threadbare robes and mumbling, "Missed you, Uncle Remus."

"Missed you, too, little hellion," He sighed, his surprisingly strong arms encircling my slim body and squeezing tightly, "I'm so glad you came home... and I'm sorry. I'm sorry for not believing you."

Laying my head on his shoulder, I shrugged, answering flippantly, "It's alright. You weren't exactly alone in that. I'm sorry I ran away. I just... I freaked out a little bit and didn't know what else to do."

"I'm always here," He soothed fiercely, his arms tightening impossibly further, "Never feel like you can't come to me. I love you so much and I would do anything for you. I just want you safe and healthy and happy."

"I know," I responded quietly, sniffling because I'd started crying despite my own best efforts, "And I love you, too."

We just stood there for a few moments, both unwilling to break the long-overdue embrace.

Eventually, we were summoned downstairs, where I was once again tackled by a very happy and overly-emotional metamorphamagus I like to call "cousin." Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, not to mention Charlie and Remus watched with fond, vaguely bemused expressions on their faces... until I started freaking out for some odd reason.

I have no idea what happened. One minute, I was laughing happily with Tonks, and the next I just... panicked.

Suddenly, I couldn't tell the difference between Tonks and Claire, between now and that night six months ago.

"STOP!! STOP!! GET OFF ME!!" I shrieked, kicking and punching fiercely as I scrambled away into a corner, as I hugged myself and my gaze flew wildly about the room, as I tried to calm down and remember where I was.

When I finally got a hold of myself, I saw that everyone was looking at me with obvious distress and worry. I didn't know what to say to explain myself, my mouth opening and nothing coherent coming out, "I-I'm sorry... I didn't... I couldn't..."

"It's ok, Stella," Tonks soothed, not letting on to the fact that her head was killing her because of a lucky punch as she knelt down close to me, "It's ok. Are you alright?"

I gave a feeble nod, eyes still wide and frightened.

Smiling, Tonks continued, "That's good then... do you need help getting up?"

"NO!" I shouted instantly, making everyone, including myself, jump. After taking a moment to get the volume of my voice under control, I amended, "No. No, thanks. I'm fine on my own." Carefully getting to my feet, I tried not to be frustrated by my unexpected reaction and, under the gazes of quite a few worried friends and family members, I transferred my shaking body to a plush armchair and drew my knees up to my chin.

After a long pause, everyone else began taking seats as well, began discussing how I would attack the seemingly impossible task of putting my life back together again.

I wasn't entirely sure what had been broken could ever be fixed.

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There you have it, my darlings. Sorry this one took so long. I got a bit stuck ;P

Anyways, hope you enjoyed it and, as always, reviews are highly appreciated and greatly encouraged!