Part 14 - Here's Lookin' at Yule, Kid

An hour into Hogwarts' Yule Ball, I was having more fun than was probably healthy.

Far from the sensation I'd been dreading, my entrance had gone mostly unnoticed aside from a few speculative whispers as to the identity of the blonde on that Weasley twin's arm. But my cloak came off and I spent the rest of the evening having to beat off horny, drooling teenage boys.

At the same time, no one had yet recognized me!! The boys who approached all assumed that I was one of the Beauxbatons students and I did very little to cure them off that conclusion. It was quite fun. I told people that my name was Jeanne-Marie Beaubier and pretended to not speak English, spending the duration of every dance exercising my extensive French swear vocabulary. I got to use such gems as tu pues tellement de la gueule quet'attire les mouches--your mouth stinks so awful that you attract flies--je suis fier de mon cul quand je vois ta gueule--I'm proud of my arse when I see your face--j'ai envie de te vomir dessus--I have the desire to vomit on you--and, a personal favorite, ta mere suce des bites en enfer--your mother sucks cocks in hell. The real French students within earshot all looked quite scandalized by my profanities.

I changed the story a bit, just to cause some confusion and mayhem, instead claiming to be an English tutor for the Beauxbatons girls. My new name was Louise Mason and the switch afforded me a bit more freedom to screw with my dance partners' heads. I told a few guys that George had simply asked me so sweetly that I couldn't refuse, even if it was generally frowned upon for teachers to fraternize. He was just that damn irresistible.

Next, I was a roadie with the Weird Sisters named Joan Larkin. George was an old friend from primary school and, when I'd run into him as I was helping carry in the band's equipment, I insisted on being his date.

I was also Mary Jane West, a model who the Weasley twins were courting to do ads for their new line of joke products, trying to finesse me into signing a contract. I liked them well enough but they were being pretty adamant about wanting a topless spread and I just wasn't sure about posing nude with Skiving Snackboxes. It seemed a little strange.

The absolute best story was that I was an undercover agent going by the name of Ellen Ripley, using George Weasley in order to get me into the school so that I could look into reports of a narcotics smuggling operation headed by none other than Pomona Sprout. I'd been getting reports for weeks that the old Herbology professor was growing a lot more than mandrakes in those greenhouses and I was just waiting for my chance to slip away to investigate.

By the time I made it back to the table for a drink, I could have just died laughing. Starting crazy rumors and watching the idiots scramble was tons of fun, and also a nice sort of revenge seeing as how their rumors had been a leading factor in my breakdown.

I slid into a seat beside George, my face red from dancing and trying to hold back the hysterical giggles that had been threatening ever since Eddie Carmichael had bravely offered to accompany me on my mission to search the greenhouses.

"Apparently, my twin and I are trying to get you to take your top off for advertising purposes," George declared, looking highly amused as he offered me a much appreciated ice cold butterbeer, "Have I missed something? Because I don't remember doing anything of the sort... not that I'd complain if you felt the need to make that particular contribution to our burgeoning empire. I recall you professing time and again the awesome might of boobs."

I snickered, taking a long pull of my drink before answering, "I've just been having a bit of fun. Nobody recognizes me, Georgie! Not one person! I told them all sorts of crazy stories."

Snorting as he looped his arm around my shoulders and pulled me against his side, the burly redhead replied, "Ah. Well, that might also explain why Lee thinks I can get my date to introduce him to the lead singer of the Weird Sisters. Poor bloke's a bit star-struck."

I leaned my head against his shoulder and took another drink, giggling, "Sorry, old boy. I couldn't seem to help myself."

"No worries," He countered, grinning down at me and making his ginger eyebrows dance beneath the brim of his garish purple top hat, "I said that he'd got it all wrong. You're just my supermodel girlfriend and he shouldn't assume that everyone in show business knows each other. I told him not to bother you because you're trying to relax after a hectic week of swimsuit and underwear shoots."

I nearly choked on laughing so hard, thanking every heavenly entity I could think of that my lovely, low-cut white dress robes were charmed against spills. "You're just as bad as me then," I teased.

"Ya, you've been a horrible influence," He sighed theatrically. Looking down at me again, he mischievously added, "Want to go tell people you're really a man?"

I smacked his dense chest, chuckling, "Only if we can tell them you're really a woman."

"Good point," The boy agreed, making a distasteful face before once again breaking into a grin. "Well," He went on, "In that case, the least you can do is make out with me. Help lend some credibility to the story I've been spreading. People are going to call me a no-good liar if they don't see me getting some tongue action."

"In your dreams," I answered, my sides starting to hurt from all the laughing.

"How'd you know about those?" George countered, putting on his best innocent face, the one I could see through in nothing flat.

"I'm in them, pillock," I told him flatly, "I have a front row seat to all your nightly depravities."

He pouted, making me feel like I'd just kicked a sweet little puppy dog.

"I guess you can put your hands on my arse during the next slow song," I conceded, rolling my eyes, "Merlin, the things I do for you."

"That's why you're the best, Stel," He chuckled, bending to press a kiss against my forehead before adding, "Or should I call you Mary Jane? I'm a little confused..."

"That's nothing new," I mocked brightly, tapping his hat down over his eyes, "So far you can either call me Jeanne-Marie, Louise, Joan, Mary Jane, or Ellen."

Not bothering to free his vision, the redhead grinned, commenting, "Somebody's been a busy girl." He gave a thoughtful grin before asking, "Can we make you a porn star next?"

I smirked, replying, "Sure, but I'm just recently retired and out to start my own production company. I'm here tonight because I'm trying to get you and Fred to do a gay gangbang called Double Your Pleasure, Double Your Fun. The twin angle is really going to sell big."

Groaning, George complained, "Does it have to be a gay gangbang? Why can't the twin and I service a room full of busty young ladies?"

"Who's going to want to watch that?" I questioned matter-of-factly.

He gave an indignant snort but the remainder of his reply was cut off as a black-haired Slytherin named Adrian Pucey--an arsehole who'd been responsible for pulling up my skirt in a crowded corridor and then physically assaulting me--approached my chair. The rather homely fellow knelt down beside it, smiling his best charming smile as he took my hand and pressed a kiss to the back. Trying not to puke or slap him or both, I heard him coo, "Bonjour, ange. Vous etes belle comme les etoiles. Aimeriez-vousdanser?" (Hello, angel. You are as pretty as the stars. Would you like to dance?)

I gave a sycophantic smile, sweetly replying, "Essaye cette manoeuvre: Prendre 50-60 pas en arrière. Prendre plusieurs souffles profonds. Sprinter en avant à toute vitesse. Faire un triple saut périlleux en l'air et disparaître dans ton propre cul." (Try this maneuver: Take 50-60 paces backwards. Take several deep breaths. Sprint forward at full speed. Do a triple summersault through the air and disappear up your own ass.)

His smile fell and the seventh year gaped indignantly, apparently understanding and well as not believing what I'd just said to him. "Excuse me?" He demanded angrily.

"Oh," I laughed, no trace of an accent anywhere in my voice, "You speak English! That's great! My French is crap. I only know a few phrases that one of those Beauxbatons chicks taught me."

He let his mouth open and close a few times, seeming to have been knocked speechless. I was vaguely aware of George sitting beside me snickering discretely into his bottle of butterbeer.

"You're, um," Pucey asked hesitantly, "You're not with Beauxbatons?"

"No way," I replied, giving an airheaded laugh, "I thought you must've been, what with the French and all." I finally retracted my hand from his clammy grip, stating, "My name's Nina. Nina Hartley. And you are?"

"Uh, Adrian Pucey," The boy answered, still a bit shell-shocked as well as very confused, "Do you go to school here?"

"Oh no," I laughing, leaning heavily into George's chest, "I haven't been in school in quite some time. I'm just here for this one and his brother, trying to sign them on for a movie project."

Again, the hapless Slytherin looked quite taken aback, unable to stop himself before he crowed, "Them? You want them to be in a movie? What's it called? Our Parents Fucked Until They Couldn't Afford Us?"

I felt George tense beside me, ready to sock the bastard in his uppity head. Of course, I beat him to it, taking advantage of my proximity to deliver a swift kick to Pucey's shriveled little balls. He crumbled but, seeing as how he'd already been kneeling, it wasn't immediately noticeable to anyone else. As the shithead gasped for breath, I leaned in close to his ear and hissed, "Actually, it's called A Clockwork Orgy. I've been trying to sign these two hot studs for months to service a room full of busty young ladies and if you fuck it up for me, I will see that you're castrated publically."

The music slowed and I got up from my seat, yanking George with me as I sweetly called, "Come on, you sexy beast. It's time to dance."

He went without much of a fight, hugging me against his side and sparing one last amused glance at Pucey as the jerk choked in pain. "A Clockwork Orgy?" He questioned as we made our way to the dance floor.

I grinned widely, letting him lead us into a crowd of swaying couples. Pulling me flush against him, George planted both his large hands firmly on my arse.

"Too bad I didn't ask your one of your brothers to be my date," I declared, resting my hands on his strong shoulders, "I could've said it was called Good Bill Humping."

He snorted, smirking even though he commented, "I think you're enjoying yourself a bit too much, love."

"Or Charlie and the Chocolate Packtory," I mused, "Or Percy Does Piccadilly..."

There was a brief silence before both of us echoed, "Ew."

We laughed. I hugged George closer and rested my head against his chest, relaxing into his soft purple robes. It was turning out to be a very nice night and if I could just get Fred away from Angelina long enough for a dance, it would be very near perfect.

I glanced in the direction of the pair. They were easy to spot, seeing as how Fred's dress robes were a shade of vivid blue that might as well have been neon for how much it made him stand out. I saw yet again, my redheaded best friend dancing uncomfortably with a tall black girl in pastel pink, who was chattering a mile a minute. Seeming to sense my eyes on him, Fred turned and offered a tight smile, his blue eyes pleading. I returned it brightly, blowing him a kiss before snuggling back into George and amusing myself watching the goings on of the rest of the dance floor.

After a few moments, George bent close to my ear to whisper, "Harry's been staring at us for awhile and I'm not sure it's due entirely to your hotness."

"You think he recognizes me?" I asked quietly, not giving myself away by turning to look, still undecided as to whether or not I even wanted to talk to my little godbrother.

"That'd be the most likely scenario," George replied. He paused a moment before swearing under his breath and stating, "Damnit. My twin has the absolute worst timing."

"Why?" I questioned, not moving from my date's embrace.

"He's giving me the signal," George sighed, sounding quite annoyed, "He wants to see me outside."

I laughed, "You actually have signals? Good lord, you two are such girls."

"Be that as it may," George sniffed, trying to regain some air of manliness, "My twin is in need and I can't not answer his call. Sorry, love. I'll walk you back to the table first, unless you want to find some other lucky bloke to dance with."

"I'd love a dance, Stella," Someone stated cheerfully.

I looked up so fast I nearly gave myself whiplash and came face-to-face with none other than Cedric Diggory. He'd gotten damn tall since last I'd seen him, towering over me and George with that boy-next-door smile and those piercing gray eyes. He offered out his hand, adding, "If you wouldn't mind, of course."

I felt George's arms tighten, silently asking if I was ok with this situation. I squeezed him back and gave a wry smile, giving him the go ahead to leave me. Cedric wasn't a threat. He was one of the few people at that damn school that had actually been nice to me. I stepped towards him.

He let his hands fall to rest high on my hips, mine settling on his broad shoulders. "So," The young man started pleasantly as we both watched George walk slowly away, "I hear you're a roadie."

I snickered, countering, "And I hear you're a champion but that's actually true. I've just been having some fun at other people's expense."

"True or not," He said, swaying us in time with the slow instrumentals, "It's good to see you again. You look great... happy."

I smiled. "That's one of the nicest compliments I've gotten all night," I told him honestly, "You really know how to charm a girl. I doubt Cho's anything but head-over-heels for you by now."

His grin got impossibly wider and I realized that he was just as smitten with her. They made a really cute couple. "What have you been up to?" Cedric pressed on, "Any plans to come back to school sometime soon?"

"This and that," I replied casually, "And I don't think I'll be returning for classes. I was way ahead of my grade anyways so I'll probably just take the OWLs and NEWTs when they come up and be done with it."

"Sounds like a good plan," He said, still smiling kindly, "How's Professor Lupin? He's your uncle, right?"

I nodded, stating, "He's well. I think the job he took is complete shit but he seems content enough. What about you? How are you handling all this champion business? You looked fantastic going up against the dragon but it's got to be stressful."

The boy gave a shrug, declaring, "I'm managing. It's Harry you should be worried about. People haven't been making things too easy for him, being the second and all."

I'd heard from the twins all about the abuse Harry was suffering. While I found it kind of hard to sympathize after everything the little shit had done to me, I couldn't just stand back and watch. After all, it was my job to pick on Harry, no one else's. Resisting the urge to turn and find my godbrother in amongst the wallflowers, I asked, "Couldn't you talk to some of them? At least get them to leave him alone if they're not going to be decent?"

"I've tried," Cedric admitted in defeat, "It didn't do too much good but... I'm going to help him any way I can. He really saved my neck on the last task and he didn't have to. I owe him pretty big."

With a smile, I said, "Little brother does have one hell of a hero streak in him."

"Little brother?" The tall Hufflepuff remarked, raising a dark eyebrow.

"Oh," I laughed, "Ya. My dad is his godfather so that makes us godsiblings."

"I didn't know that," Cedric stated, real interest coming through his voice.

"Not many people do. I guess they forget after everything that happened," I told him frankly, pausing a beat before I added, "My dad's innocent, by the way."

His eyebrows nearly disappeared into the fringe of his sandy brown hair. "How's that?" He pressed quietly, whispering like it was a huge secret.

"Well," I said, pleased that I'd been given an opportunity to explain instead of just instantly dismissed, "My dad was best friends with James Potter, right? So he was the most obvious choice to be secret keeper. Only he got it into his head that he was too obvious. At the last minute, he convinced them to change to Peter Pettigrew, who no one would suspect. But Pettigrew was already working for the Dark Lord. He gave them up and faked his own death, killing a handful of bystanders and my baby sister in the process. He's still alive and well, missing a finger but otherwise up to his old tricks."

"Wow," Cedric gaped, seeming very interested, "Do you have any proof of this?"

"My mum got photos," I stated, sighing sadly, "Pettigrew meeting with Snape quite a few years after he was supposed to be dead. She hid the negatives and gave me the key just before she was murdered to keep them from getting out. I still haven't been able to find where they are. When I got beat up in Hogsmeade last year, that was Pettigrew trying to get the negatives from me. And then right before my dad was apprehended, he and Remus and Harry had Pettigrew captured, but the little rat bastard managed to get away. I assume he slunk back to the Dark Lord's fold."

Deep in thought, the boy remained quiet for a moment before stating, "That's quite a story. I... but then why was he trying to kill Harry?"

Smiling wrly, I leaned in close and whispered, "Can you keep a secret?"

"Loyalty and Justice are the Hufflepuff credo," The young man answered proudly, "Of course I can keep a secret."

"You don't have to keep this one," I chuckled, "Tell as many people as you like. The more who know the truth, the better. You remember Ron Weasley's pet rat?"

He nodded, stating, "Sure. That thing used to get all over the place. Ugly little blighter."

"Well," I went on, implication lacing my low voice, "Remember how it used to have a finger missing?"

He thought about it for a few seconds before his gray eyes went wide. "No way!" He cried out softly, "Pettigrew was Ron Weasley's rat? That can't be possible!"

"It is if he's an illegal animagus," I declared, "His finger was the only part of him they found after the explosion not because it was all that was left of him but because it was all he left of himself. He cut it off just before, transformed, and slipped into the sewer. He'd been hiding ever since. My dad saw that picture of the Weasley's on the front page of the Prophet last year, when they won that trip to Egypt, and he recognized the rat. He knew that as long as Pettigrew was near me and Harry, we weren't safe. And there was the revenge to think about as well. So he escaped Azkaban and came here to try to kill him. That's why he kept breaking into the Tower, and why he ended up slashing Ron Weasley's bed instead of Harry's. It wasn't a mistake. He was looking for the rat."

"That's incredible," Cedric said, only vaguely skeptical, "It sort of makes sense but... no one's going to believe."

I laughed heartily, commenting, "Welcome to my world."

The sound of someone impatiently clearing their throat directly to our left broke Cedric and I out of our conversation. We turned and saw... Fred wearing George's purple robes...

What the hell?

"'Lo, Ceddy," He stated curtly, glaring daggers at the tall brunette, "If it's not too much trouble, could you be relinquishing my date now?"

"Um, ya," Cedric answered, taking his hands off my hips and taking a step back from me, "I should probably go find Cho anyways. She's bound to be back from the little girls' room by now." He bowed slightly, offering a big smile as he stated, "It's been a pleasure. Give me a heads up next time you're going to be around. I'd love to hear more of what we were talking about."

"Will do," I chirped brightly, linking my arm with Fred's and dragging him away, "Thanks for the dance! And good luck!"

When Fred and I were a few steps away, the music changed back into a fast beat and he whirled me around, fitting my hips against his as he moved us to the rhythm. He had a big, shit-eating grin on his handsome freckled face.

"Care to explain?" I challenged, eyeing him up and down as he moved in his brother's garish purple outfit, top hat and all.

He smirked, replying, "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Cut the crap, Freddie," I teased, waiting impatiently for some clarification as to why he and his twin were trying to pull a switch on me, "What do you think you're doing?"

Flashing me a charming smile, he laughed, "I knew I couldn't fool you."

"Then why'd you try?" I asked, slightly exasperated but unable to fight the grin coming over my face.

He sighed, motioning over his shoulder as he stated, "Only thing I could think of."

I looked and saw George--who was in his brother's vivid blue robes--dancing stiffly with Angelina--who seemed completely unaware of the swap.

"I had a bit of trouble getting away once I said I was going to dance with you," Fred stated, hands splayed along my back, "She's kind of jealous, though I don't blame her seeing as how you've been causing quite the fuss, stealing all the girls' dates away from them. Besides, she just would not shut up about quidditch. Nagged me for nearly an hour about eating too many sweets and the state of my calf muscles, saying that having the teams suspended for a year was no excuse to get out of shape and, when she was made captain, she was going to put me on a diet and see to it that I took my responsibilities a little more seriously. Like I've ever taken anything serious in my life!"

"Fred," I cried, smacking him lightly on one purple-clad shoulder, "I can't believe you did that! You're the one who asked her! And what if George makes out with her or something?"

He gave me a strange look, stating, "That doesn't sound like something I'd do. Don't worry, he has strict instructions not to do anything I wouldn't. And it'll only be for an hour or two. It's not fair my twin gets you all to himself."

Giggling, I teased, "Are you sure Angelina's the one with the jealousy issues?"

His face turned a bit pink but his smile stayed firmly in place, handsome and bright. I couldn't help laughing.

"Do me a favor," I instructed, leaning in close to his ear, "Glance over at Harry and check if he's still staring."

Sneakily maneuvering us so that he could get a better view over my shoulder, Fred reported, "He's looking this way. Seems a might confused, although that probably has something to do with the reports that you're an undercover agent investigating a drug-smuggling ring running out of the greenhouses."

I snickered, clinging to Fred's broad shoulders and remarking, "Just wait until you hear about the porno."

He tripped quite clumsily, nearly sending us both to the floor. When the boy finally recovered amidst some giggles from those around us, I was laughing too hard to continue dancing and allowed myself to be pulled away towards the table at which we'd all been seated at the beginning of the evening. Still red in the face, Fred took off George's hat, scooped up my cloak and offered, "Care to take a walk before I go and embarrass myself anymore?"

"Sounds lovely," I laughed, allowing him to drape the cloak around me before offering his arm and leading us outside to the grounds. The night was nice, crisp and clear and cold. Quiet, which was starkly alien after having been in with the loud music and din of chattering voices for the last few hours. I gave a happy sigh, resting my head on Fred's shoulder as we wandered about through the courtyard.

"Having fun?" He chuckled, leaning his head on top of mine as he played with the fingers that were linked through his arm.

"Mmm," I murmured, "Quite. Got to kick Pucey in the balls a bit earlier."

"Wicked," The redhead remarked. We walked along in a comfortable silence, perfectly content to merely be with one another as we explored our way through the brief network of hedges and stone benches. Every once in awhile, we would hear Snape or Filch shouting as he caught a snogging couple and we would snicker and sigh.

At long last, we came to the edge of the courtyard, to one lone bench beneath a bare oak tree. Only two of the colorful fairy lights that had been dispersed throughout the area had made it that far, a red and a blue that together made our little alcove and the snow that surrounded it glow a soft lilac.

We sat down. Fred wrapped a heavy arm around my cloaked shoulders and tucked me against his side. It was... nice. So nice.

"So," He began, sparing me one of those I-solemnly-swear-I-am-up-to-no-good grins he was so infamous for, "Tell me about this porno. Are you the star?"

"Oh no," I snickered, "I'm retired from the business and out to start my own production company. I'm trying to recruit you and your twin to do a gay gangbang called Double Your Pleasure, Double Your Fun."

He gaped. "Seriously?"

"Oh yes," I replied, pulling away and fixing him with a very professional look, "The market for studly redheaded twins getting pounded by a truckload of bodybuilders is very high these days. You're in demand, darling."

He continued to gape.

"On that note," I teased, still acting as professional as I could manage, "State your terms, Mr. Weasley. I absolutely must have you."

Shaking himself out of the initial shock, Fred gave a shy smile and reached for my hand. He brushed his thumb across my knuckles, eyes darting to the charmed mood ring he'd given me last Christmas, to its swirling pinks and purples that represented I was feeling happy and loved.

"Well, lady porn mistress," He began, looking sincerely up into my eyes as he fought down a smirk, "I've become hopelessly infatuated with your beauty and wit and skill with a whip. Just tell me you love me and my heart, my arse, and anything else you may desire is yours for the taking."

I threw my head back with theatrically laughter, taunting, "You fool! You would be bought for such simple words?" Looking deep into his blue eyes, I crowed, "If that is your wish, it is what you shall receive! I love you! Now bend over!"

I was so busy laughing over our silly exchange that I didn't notice Fred leaning closer until his lips met mine, a soft, tender brush that rendered me still and speechless. His calloused palm came up to cradle my face. My eyes slid shut in pure, delicious satisfaction as I surrendered to his sweet kiss. It might have been completely unexpected but, Merlin help me, I melted like a sno-cone on a summer day, pressing back experimentally as I let my free hand drift to caress the sensitive underside of his freckled wrist.

My crush seemed to be both alive and thriving.

I unavoidably thought back to when it began, to the start second year. Fred came and found me on the roof of the Astronomy Tower and kissed me under the stars. I was twelve and he was thirteen and we were both so painfully young, innocent.

I wasn't innocent anymore. Far from it, in fact. I'd been through so much since that night and I suddenly couldn't stand the fact that Fred must've been thinking he was kissing that wide-eyed, untarnished second year, not the broken mess I'd allowed her to become.

I pulled back abruptly, thick tears already stinging my eyes as I gazed into Fred's awestruck, reverent expression. It disappeared in an instant, morphing into one of guilt and fear. "I'm sorry," He apologized instantly, dropping his hand from my cheek like I'd burned him, "I-I'm so sorry, Stel. I didn't mean... I thought... I'm sorry."

I started to cry, blubbering, "You didn't do anything. It's- It's my fault."

"What are you talking about?" He questioned, his worry bordering on panic as he drew me closer, "Stella, please, tell me what's wrong."

"I'm not twelve," I sobbed, vision blurred and voice hitched, "I'm not- I can't be that girl anymore and you don't want me the way I am. Nobody will." I snatched my hand back from his grasp, trying to run, to run away and not have to face everything I used to be reflected in Fred's loving blue eyes.

"Stella!" He called, chasing after and not letting me get more than a few feet away--damned heels--before grabbing my arm and making me stop. "Wait!" He growled, frustrated and breathless with the intensity of the moment, "What do you mean I don't want you? I've wanted you since you lied straight to the trolley lady's face on that first train ride! I'm fine with having made an idiot of myself if you don't feel the same but, bloody hell, going by that kiss, I'm pretty damn sure you do! Don't run away because you think I don't want you because it's not true!"

I sniffled, bordering on hysteria and unable to meet his gaze as I choked, "You don't understand. You don't know what I've done."

"Nothing you could ever do could make me not love you," Fred murmured heatedly, resting his forehead against mine as he held me close, "Merlin, Stella, you're just... you're perfect in every bloody way. You make me so crazy that I almost can't stand it. You're gorgeous, and so smart, and funny, and just... just perfect."

"But I'm not perfect!" I argued tearily, fighting futilely to get out of his grasp, "I'm not! You just- you don't know!"

"So tell me!" He pleaded, reaching up a hand to smudge tears and runny glitter makeup off my face, "Whatever it is, it's not going to change how I feel about you!"

"I-I-" The words wouldn't leave my mouth, seeming stuck as I stared up into Fred's gorgeous blue eyes. "I can't," I finally manage to whisper, having momentarily gotten control of my sobs because he needed to understand that this wasn't some hysterical declaration I was about to make; this was just the way it was. "You deserve better," I said, turning away, walking away, "I'm sorry.

I tried to get away from him again but, again, he grabbed me and pulled me back. I barely caught a glimpse of his fierce, stubborn expression before he folded me tight into his arms and kissed me soundly.

He just... he felt so good. I wanted to pull away. Well, I didn't want to but I knew I should because, really, I was nothing but trouble and he really did deserve better. I couldn't though. I melted for the second time on that frigid winter night.

And Fred didn't stop kissing me until I was mewling mindlessly, my eyes closed and every nerve in my body thrumming as I lost the ability to think, as I pressed in closer for more. I could feel his breath on my face, his lips hot and wet as they slid against mine, his chest dense, heaving beneath my palms.

My eyes stayed shut when he finally stopped, squeezing me tighter in his arms as he rested his cheek against mine. We both sighed, shivered in excited contentment. "Don't want anyone else," He murmured into my ear, voice tight and dark, "There's no one better. I don't care how long it takes, I'm going to convince you. I'm not letting you run away from me. Not again."

I turned my face against his shoulder and just bawled because I knew he was going to try to do just that. He would waste his entire life on me and... there was nothing I could do to stop him. The twins could be stubborn as mules and Fred was quite possibly the worst one when it came to something he was passionate about. He set his sights on something and didn't stop until he had it. He was going to be that way about his joke shop and... he was going to be that way about me.

"I fucked Oliver Wood," I blurted out between sobs, sure he would hate me for it. But I figured if I had to make him hate me to save him from me, then I owed him that much.

Fred flinched and I waited for him to start screaming, to tell me I was a whore and walk away forever. He was quiet for what seemed like ages before finally stating, "Ok."

"What do you mean, ok?" I shouted, punching his chest hard in a futile attempt to fight my way out of his tight grasp, "That's- That's not ok! You're supposed to hate me! Say I'm a slut! Say you'll never forgive me, damnit!"

He frowned, petulantly declaring, "I could never hate you, Stella. I mean, I'm not exactly thrilled but I'm not a complete Neanderthal, either. I... I can forgive you."

I cried quietly against his shoulder for nearly ten minutes. Fred held onto me the entire time, swaying us to a phantom waltz. Before long, we were... dancing. Slow dancing out there beneath the stars with no music but our own to guide us.

"So," He finally stated when I calmed down and was just resting my chest against his heart, my arms wound loosely around his neck, "You want to tell me about it?"

I looked up at him quizzically before shamefully lowering my gaze. "You really want to hear this?" I muttered, lacing my fingers through his shaggy red hair and relishing its unnatural silkiness.

He shrugged, keeping his grip firm as he stated, "You said I wouldn't understand because I didn't know. I want to know so that I can understand."

Chuckling, I remarked, "You're too good to be true."

"Ya, it's a curse," He laughed, bending to kiss me right in a ticklish spot behind my ear.

I squirmed and giggled and sighed in defeat, knowing that I was hopelessly lost to this boy. "It, um," I told him quietly, seriously, "It started just after the Hufflepuff game last year. It was just sex and... I guess I needed to feel like someone wanted me."

Fred remained silent, drawing nonsense symbols on the small of my back as he waited patiently for the rest of the story. "It was over by the time we got back from break," I stated, voice shaking slightly, "He turned out to be kind of psychotic."

I sensed his frown before he looked down at me, face creased with worry as he smoothed my bangs away from my puffy eyes and asked, "What happened?"

"It was my fault to begin with," I insisted, unable to tear my gaze away from his, "I- when we broke up, he just... got a little rough with me."

"What did he do?" Fred growled, his arms tightening and his expression turning fierce. It would have been scary if I didn't know it wasn't directed at me.

"He was being an arsehole," I whispered, beginning to shake as I remembered the terror and pain of that moment, "So I told him to piss off and he... he didn't want to take no for an answer."

A deep, threatening growl rumbled through Fred's chest, followed by the heated declaration, "Son of a bitch. I'll kill him."

"Don't," I ordered flatly, turning my face away and staring off into the muted lilac-lit snow bank, "He didn't get too far. Cedric pulled him off and I took care of the rest. He hasn't bothered me much since."

"Much?" Fred pressed, voice still dangerous and low. He didn't have much of a temper, both twins being far too kindhearted and laidback for one, but certain things could set him off and he'd explode a powder keg. Hearing that Oliver had hurt me was definitely one of those certain things.

"Well," I chuckled dryly, "He followed me around for awhile. I had to threaten to slit his throat before he really got the hint... and I-I saw him last week. He came into Madame Malkin's while I was trying on my robes. He just... he stared and tried to make small talk, nothing else. I told him I'd kill him if he ever touched me again."

Despite the fact that Fred was still irate, a tense smirk spread over his face. "That's what was happening when we walked in to you holding the knife on him," The boy declared, looking rather smug and proud.

"Mhmm," I hummed, idly winding the hair at the nape of his strong neck through my slender fingers, "So that's it. You sure you don't want to change your mind about me? Run while you still can?"

"Stella," He murmured, a bit exasperated, "Did you listen to one word I said?"

I cracked a smirk, teasing, "Sorry, what was that? Got distracted."

"Cheeky brat," He laughed brightly, sweeping me into a sudden dip.

I gave a squeal of surprise, flailing and then clinging frantically to Fred's shoulders because I was afraid of getting dropped. His face hovered above mine, his grin wide and his hair falling charmingly into his crinkled blue eyes. Despite not being too fond of finding myself suspended from the ground by a power that was not my own, I couldn't help but smile back.

"I want to kiss you again," He stated matter-of-factly, eyes heavy-lidded and intense, "But not if it'll make you cry. What do you think?"

I raised an eyebrow at him, being difficult just because it was what I do best. "Oh," I teased, "So you're asking now? Whatever happened to your 'silence the hysterical female with some swift macho snogging' technique?"

He got a bit pink but the smile stayed firmly in place as he waggled his eyebrows and remarked, "Worked, didn't it? You were putty in my strong, manly hands."

"Can we move this along?" I requested, feigning annoyance, "I don't want your strong, manly hands giving out and dropping me on my butt."

"Would never drop you," He breathed, sincere and slowly closing the space between our lips. Just before he darted in for his kiss, his smirked and added, "And I would certainly never do anything to endanger your magnificent behind."

As I was opening my mouth to offer a witty retort, he swept forward to capture my lips with his own. I settled for a breathless laugh, my eyes sliding shut as I surrendered to bliss.

xxXxx

We stayed outside for a bit longer, alternately chatting and kissing. I was surprised at just how easy the change in our relationship was turning out to be. Sometimes it was like everything was the same, like it was just me and my goofy best friend having a laugh. Others, everything was different. Fred would touch me with a tenderness I had never before noticed or stare at me looking awestruck, like I'd told him the secret to life instead of just made fun of his hat hair and it would take my breath away. It was comfortable though. Welcomed.

After awhile, I got cold despite my heavy cloak and Fred's arms around me and we decided to go inside. Besides, Fred was fairly sure George would want to switch back pretty soon. Angelina was probably driving him crazy.

We were close to the entrance of the Great Hall, just on the other side of the last row of hedges and near enough to already hear the music and chatter, when we ran into Harry and Ron. I froze and my godbrother froze and we stared blankly at each other as our companions stared awkwardly at the two of us.

I spoke first, cutting the tension with a disarming smirk and flippant greeting. "You two out for a romantic stroll as well?" I asked mockingly, clinging to Fred's arm and letting my head rest on his shoulder with a dreamy sigh, "Wax poetic about the stars in your lover's blue eyes, boy wonder. Gets 'em every time."

I received confused, vaguely horrified stares from all around. "Nobody can take a joke these days," I huffed in annoyance.

"Stella?" Harry gaped in disbelief, "That really you?"

"Depends on who you ask," I reported brightly, "I've told a lot of different people a lot of different names tonight."

Apparently taking that as the yes he was hoping for, Harry fidgeted nervously, asking, "How are you?"

I gave an over-exaggerated grin, chirping, "Turns out, not crazy. Imagine that." Just because I'd resolved to work towards a reconciliation with the boy didn't mean I was going to let him off the hook easy. He'd said some pretty horrible, maybe even unforgivable things to me and I couldn't just forget them.

His shoulders slumped, weighted down by the shame and embarrassment I could see on his young face. "I-" He began, voice quiet and sincere, "I'm sorry."

"Noted," I chirped, dragging Fred along to walk by the boy, bashing my shoulder hard against his as I passed. A few feet behind him, I stopped and turned and looked over my shoulder to see that Harry hadn't moved, that his head was still hanging pathetically.

"Hey," I called back, getting his attention in an instant. His big green eyes were wide and guardedly hopeful. "I really liked my Christmas present," I told him seriously, dismissively as I turned away again. Over my shoulder, I added, "Good luck on your champion thingie. Try not to die." It came out a bit more taunting than I originally intended but, hey, it was progress. At least I hadn't threatened to kill him myself.

Not giving Harry a chance to answer, I pulled Fred along with me and back into the Hall.

xxXxx

George was on us in an instant, seizing his brother by the arm and dragging him towards the bathrooms to switch outfits once again. Turns out, Angelina really was driving him crazy. He didn't take the criticism of his calves and eating habits quite as patiently as Fred had. He was about three seconds away from challenging her to duel for his honor when we finally showed up and saved everyone the awkward moment.

"She is just freaking power mad," The redhead declared as he threw himself down into the seat beside mine, back in his own robes after just three minutes outside with Fred because he really was that anxious to reclaim his identity. Apparently, he tackled Fred in the hallway and stripped him right there. It must've been quite the sight and didn't do much to quash my gay gangbang rumors.

"You didn't have to go along with Freddie's little scheme," I laughed, giddy and a bit lightheaded from everything that had just happened.

"True," He answered, grinning evilly, "But it was worth it. My twin is now Official Guinea Pig Bitch for the next month. Just in time, too. I have a few ideas I wasn't all that thrilled about testing myself."

"I thought you freed him from his date out of the goodness of your heart," I teased, slipping off my shoes because they were sort of starting to kill and sliding my feet into George's lap. I smiled pleadingly, fluttering my eyelashes until he gave in and started to rub them. It felt really damn good.

"I might've," He responded, sniffing in a highly offended manner as he went to work on my poor feet, "But Freddie was so sure I wouldn't that he offered straight out. And I'm not about to say no to having an Official Guinea Pig Bitch at my disposal for a whole month." He gave an amused chuckle, daydreaming as he remarked, "I am going to turn him so many different colors."

We laughed but, before the conversation could proceed any further, we were interrupted by an haughty, throaty voice accusing, "Vous n'êtes pas français."

I turned and glanced over my shoulder and saw Fleur Delacour, the Beauxbatons champion. She was very pretty, standing slim and proud in designer robes as her long, silvery-blonde hair poured down her back. She also seemed to be fairly pissed, stance screaming insult and disapproval. Seeing as how the girl had just accused me of not being French, I took it to mean that she had a problem with the stories I was telling.

"Oui, cela est vrai," I replied sweetly, shooting her a charming smile, "Vous êtes le premier remarquer. Félicitations" (Yes, that's true. You're the first to notice. Congratulations.)

Her expression softened somewhat, a smile tugging at the corners of her shapely mouth before she stated, "Vous parlez très bien. A vous a habité en la France?" (You speak very well. Have you lived in France?)

"Oui," I answered, offering her a seat beside me that she took daintily, "J'ai habité en Bordeaux pour quelques mois quand j'étais neuf. D'où vous sont?" (Yes. I lived in Bordeaux for a few months when I was nine. Where are you from?)

"Paris," She announced, clearly quite proud of the fact. Turning to smile at George--who was looking a bit confused and slightly awestruck by both me and the part veela--Fleur asked, "Quel est son nom? L'est votre copain?" (What is his name? Is he your boyfriend?)

I laughed and wiggled my feet to indicate that the boy should continue the foot rub he'd begun to slack on, stating, "Non, George est seulement un très bon ami." (No, George is only a very good friend.)

"Seriez-vous offensé si je lui ai demandé de danser?" She inquired, smiling impishly, "Il est plutôt bel et j'aime roux." (Would you be offended if I asked him to dance? He is rather handsome and I like redheads.)

"Who doesn't?" I snickered, relishing in the moment of pure girly silliness. It wasn't often that I got to talk to other females about stuff like boys and I was finding that I still rather enjoyed the subject. Fleur seemed pleasant enough, if a bit pushy and forward but, hell, I've heard the same things said about me so I really couldn't fault her. Not everyone can tolerate strong women.

"Haha," George jumped in blindly, tired of being overlooked because he really never had been able to go more than two minutes without having some attention focused his way, "Ya. Totally."

Fleur and I glanced at each other and then began to giggle. George smirked proudly, apparently content to delude himself into thinking that he'd made a joke instead of an arse of himself.

"Would you like to dance?" Fleur asked in an airy accent, offering a courtier smile and her delicate hand.

Grinning, George shoved my feet unceremoniously out of his lap. He wiped his palms on the front of his garish purple robes, popped his top hat back into its rightful place, and took Fleur's hand. "It would be an immense pleasure, mademoiselle," He chirped charmingly as he led her away towards the dance floor without a look back, "Did I say that right? Mademoiselle?"

I chuckled and shook my head as the conversation became overpowered by the music, relaxing into my seat and propping my feet back up into George's. It was getting a little hot so I shimmied out of my cloak before grabbing a fresh butterbeer and settling down to relax for awhile.

Unfortunately, relaxation didn't seem to be anywhere in my immediate future. No sooner had I gotten comfortable than I heard a familiar old voice state, "Miss Black, I'm not entirely sure that robe meets the school's dress code requirements."

I looked up and found myself face-to-face with Professor McGonogall, still as straight-backed and pinch-mouthed as I remembered her, wearing red tartan for the Ball. "Good thing I'm not your student anymore then," I declared, taking a long pull out of my drink, "It would be a shame if you had to ruin the festive occasion by handing down a detention or two."

She graced me with a tight smile, dragging a chair and settling in it right beside me. "I was actually hoping to talk to you about that," The old woman declared kindly, "Have you given any thought to returning to school?"

"Yup," I answered brightly, "I keep having the same thought: not going to happen."

Lips pursed tightly, she gave me a very stern, disapproving stare from over the top of her small square glasses, not a single black hair out of place from her no-nonsense bun despite the rather ugly wreath of thistles around the brim of her hat. "I would ask you to reconsider," She told me plainly, "You were one of my brightest, most promising students. It would be a real shame to waste such natural talent and intellect."

"It would be a bigger shame if I ended up back in the nuthouse," I retorted flatly. She remained impassive, tense. "Don't worry about me," I told her with an easy smile, "I don't plan on wasting anymore of my life. I'll show up to take the OWLs at the end of the year. I might even take a crack at the NEWTs, too, if you'll let me. And then I'll be done with it and off to greener pastures."

She stared at me thoughtfully, old hands folded neatly in her lap. "Perhaps," She began, "We could make an arrangement for that based on your OWL performance."

I raised an eyebrow, taking another drink before questioning, "What kind of arrangement?"

"Well," She stating, gracing me with a rare, fond smile, "I have always thought you could stand being moved up a level. If your OWL scores prove that your last year and a half of slacking haven't dragged you terribly behind, then I might consider petitioning the headmaster for that to happen."

"So..." I drawled warily, "I'd skip sixth year, go straight to seventh and graduate next June?"

She nodded briskly.

"And... I'd be in class with the twins?"

Her old face blanched slightly, the woman muttering, "I hadn't quite thought of that part but, yes, I suppose so."

"Hmm," I hummed thoughtfully, "And could I arrange to have a room somewhere other than with those three harpies you stuck me with last time?"

"Given your past disagreements with Katie, Wendy, and Abigail," McGonogall said tersely, not looking too fond of my word choice, "I don't see any other option. The school has a few single rooms for special needs students. I could possibly allocate one for your use."

"What about getting off campus?" I went on, determined to pick this plan to death before I would even consider it, "Could I be allowed to go on and off at will? I need to stay close with my family and just be able to leave if people start getting on my nerves too much. And keep appointments with my shrink, too."

"Doctor's appointments will be no problem," The professor agreed, "The rest... I would need to speak with Professor Lupin, as he is your legal guardian. Pending his permission, I don't see why not."

I stared at her, rolling the plan around in my head. Just one more year. With the twins in my classes. My own room. Freedom to come and go.

"I'll think about it," I told her honestly, taking another long pull from my butterbeer, "I'd kind of like to kick arse on the tests just to prove how much smarter I am than the rest of the idiot filling of this place, but I don't know if can deal with them for a whole nother year."

"It is your choice, Miss Black," McGonogall answered kindly, standing and smoothing down her robes, "Take your time with my offer and come see me when you decide. We can discuss a course of action."

"Thank you, Professor," I said with a smile, "I really appreciate what you're trying to do for me."

"Think nothing of it," She dismissed casually as she began to walk away, "I'd just like a student who I know will be able to meet any challenge I hand her. I've missed you in my classes."

I was finally alone again, this time with a whole lot to think about. Between waving away boys asking me to dance, I watched the twins, Fred squirming uncomfortably as Angelina stopped their dance in order to squeeze his underdeveloped calf muscles, George twirling Fleur, his poor attempts at speaking the French she was trying to teach him loud enough to carry all the way to where I was sitting.

It would be great to be back with my friends. I knew that the twins would want me to return. I'd put them through a lot and I probably owed it to them.

I just didn't know if I could after everything I'd gone through in that place but, hell, I'd been sure I'd never even set foot back there and I ended up contemplating a triumphant return sitting in the midst of the Great Hall. McGonogall was right: I wasn't one to let a challenge go unmet.

I sat back and I thought.

xxxxxxxxxx

This one was sort of swimming around in my head so I had to get it out. Hope you all liked it. All the French phrases and translations were taken off various translators and websites. Sorry if they're wrong. I'd love to have someone correct them for me --hinthint--

In the meantime, reviews would be most appreciated :D