Part 16 - Trials and Tribulation

It was only my second in what turned out to be an impressive string of Ministry criminal proceedings, but I had already come to the indisputable conclusion that I was not a fan of being on trial. Alas, there was nothing I could do. Oliver Wood had brought charges against me for beating him up in a nightclub--justifiably, mind you--and I either had to show to defend myself or get automatically thrown into prison for probably a truly unjust amount of time.

"All you have to do is tell the truth," My lawyer, Mr. Besnick, coached quietly as the pair of us waited in a private room, courtesy of Mr. Weasley, "Wood is out of line and I don't think we've got anything to worry about from the charge."

"Out of line or not," I replied, trying to massage away the twinge of pressure at my temples, remnants of a fever I was not entirely over, "It's not nothing to worry about. The Ministry's got it bad to put a Black back on the Azkaban roster, and I'm starting to think that they don't really care which one they end up with... I just... I can't believe Oliver did this. I can't believe he's such a prick and I didn't see it for so long..."

Mr. Besnick laid a kind hand on my shoulder, softly stating, "That's not your fault, dear. I've found that people are very good at hiding their true natures."

I sighed, "Yeah. I know you're probably right. I still feel stupid though... do I have time to go to the bathroom before the hearing starts?"

The old man glanced at his wristwatch, answering, "Yes, plenty. It's just out the door and down to the end of the hall. Make a left and then another left right away, and then it'll be the first door on the left."

"Thanks," I said with a slight grin, sauntering off and away towards the bathroom. I went in and did what people do in bathrooms. When I came out, Oliver Wood was there waiting, leaning against the opposite wall.

The broken nose I'd given him a week previous was mostly healed. His face was still a bit puffy, bearing a yellowed raccoon mask around what I assumed used to be a pair of blackened eyes. He had the grace to look sheepish but not enough sense not to smile.

"Come for round two?" I spat, freezing in the doorway and clenching my fists at my sides, "My lawyer said not to talk to you but he didn't say anything about kicking your arse. That is, of course, if you promise not to tattle like a little bitch this time."

He grinned crookedly. "As much as it drives me nuts," He said almost fondly, "I've got to say that smart mouth is one of the things I like most about you."

"Thanks," I chirped flatly, "Would you like a head start or do you want to take your beating like a man?"

"Stella," He sighed, sounding quite sincere and remorseful, "I'm sorry. I never meant to hurt you. I didn't mean to do those things. And I can't stop thinking about you. It's been an entire year and you're still on my mind all the damn time. If I could get over you, I would. I've tried. But it's not happening. And I want another chance. Just give me a chance."

"No," I responded, barely able to keep my voice even as the cold fury pulsed through my body and my tension headache increased exponentially, "Honestly, Captain, I got a glimpse at the real Oliver Wood, the petty, violent control freak you hide behind that golden boy exterior and I don't want a damn thing to do with him. You could spend the rest of your life being nothing but sweet to me and it wouldn't matter. I would know that you were still the same man inside, the one who smacked the hell out of me, the one who tried to and would have raped me, the one who spread those... those horrible rumors and made me feel so bad about myself that... that I... I almost died, Oliver. You have no idea what you put me through and now I'm supposed to give you another chance because you're sorry? Because you can't get over me? On what planet do I owe you anything but another busted nose and a shot to the balls so hard you'll never procreate?"

He sort of squirmed, an inch or two taller than me but seeming cowed by my impressive rant. "One date," He offered firmly, swallowing a lump in his thick throat, "That's all I'm asking here. Just one. Let me prove I'm not... not what you think I am. Give me that much and I'll drop the charges and... and if you still hate me afterwards, I'll never bother you again."

I was practically vibrating with rage, stepping forward and getting in Oliver's face so lightning fast that he couldn't help flinching. Through great restraint, I did not kill or even maim the bastard. Not even a little and I think that shows great personal growth. I took a deep breath and, as calmly as I could manage, hissed, "If it's a choice between you and Azkaban, I choose Azkaban. At least there the monsters look like monsters."

And then I stepped away, forced myself to walk away, not looking back but adding, "I'll see you in court, Captain."

xxXxx

Oliver dropped the complaint ten minutes later. I really think he only filed it to get me there, to have some leverage to use over me to get a date. But my closing comment must've struck a chord and he seemed to finally give up, fading quietly into the margins of my world.

Fudge was pissed at having me slip through his fingers for a second time, his face all purple and blotchy as he watched me walk out with my lawyer, family, and friends. I had a rage induced migraine so couldn't really enjoy the fact that I was the one making our good minister turn all those lovely colors, but being free did take a bit of the sting off the day.

Back at the Burrow, I turned down lunch, nauseas and shaking and trying to hide it by saying I was just tired and wanted a nap. Bill was heading back to Egypt in a few hours so we exchanged our goodbyes then, because he didn't want to have to wake me since I needed the sleep. He squeezed me tight and kissed my cheek, laughing that I'd better write, that I'd better watch out for the twins and for myself, and that I'd better come see him the next time I was in Egypt. I agreed to the terms as happily as I could manage and then stumbled up to the twins' bedroom.

I really didn't feel well. Not at all. The combination of being sick and then having to deal with Oliver and the Ministry, and Mrs. Weasley's hovering and Remus' worry and the appointment I was going to have to go to soon with my shrink, not to mention Percy, who was the only one of my friends who knew what happened with Claire, and the twins, who I kind of felt bad about not having told, and the great dilemma I had about whether or not to return to Hogwarts the following term... well, it all just piled up. And then there was my dad, still on the run, and I just wanted to see him, to touch him and know that he was really real. I wanted to find my mom's evidence and set him free. I wanted to break into the Malfoy mansion and steal my parents' things back.

I wanted to not feel so damn helpless against the world.

Though I needed it, I couldn't sleep and merely stayed curled up in Fred's bed for several hours, trying not to move too much because moving made my head throb in agony.

I felt like shit, physically, mentally, emotionally... and I wanted my daddy.

"Daddy," I croaked miserably, cradling the mirror he gave me weakly in my palms, "Daddy, are you there?"

His face appeared after only a few moments. I could barely see it because the room was so dim, because the tears in my eyes and pain in my head were making my vision blur and swirl and I couldn't sit up from the pillow.

"Baby?" Dad questioned, frowning and concerned and reaching out to touch the mirror surface like he wanted to be touching me, "What is it? What's wrong?"

I was crying in pitiful, whimpering gasps and struggled to reply, "I-I don't feel good."

"Are you getting sick again?" He ventured urgently, "Baby, if you're sick, I want you to go tell Remus or Molly. They'll take care of you, make you feel better."

Shaking my head, I sniveled, "It's not just that... I don't feel well but I also don't feel good. I-I-... I can't explain it but everything is just... too much... and it's... it's wrong and I can't fix it!! I don't know what to do!!"

"Start off just taking a deep breath," He advised quietly, voice full of gravel and worry, "Try to calm down a bit so you can tell me all of what's wrong, alright? Tell me what's wrong and then we'll sort it out together."

I choked down a few big gulps of air, trying to do what my dad told me to. I couldn't manage it though. Every breath just seemed to add to the crushing weight that was already sat on my chest and my head and I was crying so hard because it hurt.

"Stella," He called out sternly, sounding vaguely like he was panicking, "Stella, listen to me! You're going to make yourself sick if you go on like this! You need to calm down!"

I couldn't answer because I couldn't stop, my chest tight and stomach knotted and head aching and whole body sore, weary. I just... I didn't know what was wrong with me but it was too much.

And then I heard it, the soft, familiar, soothing croon drifting out of the mirror and into the room.

It was written that I would love you

From the moment I opened my eyes

And the morning when I first saw you

Gave me life under calico skies

I will hold you for as long as you like

I'll hold you for the rest of my life

I hadn't heard the song since I was two years old. My dad used to sing it to me when I had nightmares, when I crawled into my parents' bed crying.

Always looking for ways to love you

Never failing to fight at your side

While the angels of love protect us

From the innermost secrets we hide

I'll hold you for as long as you like

I'll hold you for the rest of my life

The effect was almost instantaneous, like it had been programmed into me. My sobs began to die into gulping hiccups. My eyelids grew heavy and slowly closed as I just listened and let my daddy's voice ease me into much-needed sleep.

Long live all us crazy soldiers

Who were born under calico skies

May we never be called to handle

All the weapons of war we despise

I'll hold you for as long as you like

I'll hold you for the rest of my life

I'll hold you for as long as you like

I'll hold you for the rest of my...

For the rest of my life...

xxXxx

I woke slowly, my eyes feeling hot and puffy from crying. It took me a few moments to remember why.

"We agreed, Padfoot!" I could hear Uncle Remus just outside the door of the twins' bedroom, voice low and secretive, "We agreed it would be in both your best interests!"

"That was before!" My dad answered angrily, sending my heart into my throat and my body rocketing up out of bed. My mirror was not on the pillow where I left it; Remus must've have come in while I was sleeping and picked it up... so much for the gift being a secret...

"You told me she was better!" My dad continued on, "You said!"

"I said she was getting better," Remus argued, "And she is! But Stella is suffering some very severe emotional issues and none of us can expect them to just disappear. She needs time and patience."

"That's why I should be with her!!" My dad shouted, "She was hysterical and I wanted to be able to hold her in my arms and I couldn't!! You have to get me to her, Moony! Please!"

"Keep your voice down!" Remus hissed, "You'll wake her! I've been trying, Padfoot. The Order has been working to find a safe place for you to hide but we haven't been able to. Nothing has the kind of security we need."

I pressed my ear to the closed door.

"I don't care!" Dad shouted, "My baby girl needs me and I've spent far too long already not being there for her! I'm coming to see her!"

Though I knew how dangerous that plan was, I couldn't help becoming irrationally excited and happy from hearing it.

"Do you want your daughter to see you arrested and carted off for the Kiss?" Remus questioned in his patented I-Know-Best tone, the one he always used when talking me and Dad out of our crazy schemes, "Because that's what's going to happen, Padfoot, and I really don't think Stella could handle it."

I had to agree, but... but I wanted to see him so badly...

"I'm so close though, Moony," Daddy argued fervently, "I won't put her or myself in any danger! I'll stay transformed, and we could meet in this nice little park just a bit down the lane... I... please, you don't understand what this is like! I want her in my arms so badly it hurts!"

Remus was quiet for a few moments before stating, "You're right, I don't know how you feel. If it's anything like what I went through during those months she was missing, then I'm truly sorry for the pain you're in. But you can't let that cloud your judgment. You need to promise me that you'll stay away until it's safe."

"I'm not promising anything," My dad stubbornly replied, "I'm not going to put Stella in danger, but if I get a chance to see her, I'm taking it."

Remus sighed heavily. "I suppose I can't expect anything less," He remarked, worried but still vaguely fond, "Where are you staying? Do you need supplies?"

I held my breath.

"I'm alright," Dad answered, "I've got a nice spot under the bleachers in Falcon Stadium. It's warm and there's plenty of food."

I didn't stay to hear the rest of the conversation. Silently praying that I wouldn't trip and draw attention to myself, I moved away from the door and gathered up my wand and broom before escaping out the bedroom window. I headed southwest against the wind.

xxXxx

About halfway to Falmouth, I began to shiver despite the fact that my face was hot to touch. It wasn't exactly a brilliant idea of mine to fly without at least three layers in the dead of winter, after just having been sick, no less. But I've always had a tendency towards single mindedness when something like the possibility of finally being able to see my dad comes up. I ignored my symptoms and pressed on.

To ensure I wasn't followed, I ducked into a forest just before dusk and transfigured a dummy of myself on broomstick out of some treebranches. It was not a very good likeness and I couldn't for the life of me figure out how to give it lifelike movements with so little time to work. But it was a passable representation. A person would have to be fairly close or be watching it for a long time to notice that it wasn't really me. And I only needed a brief window in which to escape any followers I may have had.

I set the dummy west into the setting sun, waited a half hour, and then continued on my way to Falmouth, flying low through the trees until I reached the end of the small forest. Sneezing and trembling like mad, I was fairly confident that I wasn't being followed, but I still took a few more precautions. I landed in a town near Bodmin Moor and took a detour through a shopping center, ducking through a large crowd and using the diversion in order to glamour myself into a redhead with a prominent chin, as well as change the color of my leather jacket from black to green. The magic didn't last long but it lasted long enough for me to exit the mall and get back into the sky without having to worry about anyone following.

Still, I made one more stop. Back to my own appearance, I set down near a muggle library and went inside, quickly creating another dummy of myself to sit in a secluded corner pretending to read. It would disintegrate back into a pile of books after an hour. I slipped out through the back, my hair black and stringy and my skin dark.

About three hours after I left the Burrow, I finally arrived in Falmouth, at the Falcon Stadium where the pro quidditch team plays. They were having a game against the Appleby Arrows that night so I changed myself to a brunette, bought a ticket, and slipped in with a large crowd.

I was coughing by that time, deep, rattling ones that shook my whole chest. My face was flushed and it was taking a great deal of concentration in order to keep my glamour in place. Still, I would not be deterred from my mission.

I waited until the first time the Falcons' seeker made a dive going after the snitch. The crowd rose to their feet in excitement and, while everyone was distracted, I quietly slipped through the slats of the bleachers. It was a rather large drop to the ground. My seat sort of sucked. Had it not been for a hasty cushioning charm, I surely would have died upon impact. As it was, I landed on a moderately soft area of dirt, seeing stars and cursing the fact that I hadn't been allowed to bring my broomstick into the stadium. A few crazies trying to join in the pro games ruined it for everyone.

But then there I was, under the bleachers in Falcon Stadium. My dad had to be somewhere close so I started on a slow lap, watching carefully for any signs of movement from the shadows. After a few long minutes of walking, I saw the faint outline of a man standing in the dark up ahead. "Daddy!" I whispered, rushing towards him.

Remus stepped out of the shadow. My heart sank. I barely realized that I'd stopped moving, standing dumbly in front of my godfather.

"Stella," He said gently, taking a step forward, opening his arms to catch me as my knees gave out.

I started to sob.

"I'm sorry," He murmured, petting my hair and pressing kisses against my temple, "I'm so sorry."

xxXxx

When Remus found my bed empty, he figured out that I must've overheard the conversation he and my dad had been having. He called my dad right back, lied and told his friend that his position had been compromised, that he needed to move on. And my dad did. Remus went to Falmouth to wait for me to arrive. All my ridiculous cloak and dagger shit made him have to wait for several hours but my godfather had never been one to complain about such things.

As soon as I was reasonably calm, he got around to noticing that my fever was back, that I was coughing and sneezing and all around miserable. He raced me to the Burrow, seeing to it that I was tucked into a warm bed and assaulted with all sorts of nasty potions that were supposedly good for me. I didn't care too much. I just felt sad. hopeless. alone.

I felt dumb feeling alone, especially with Remus and Mrs. Weasley doting over me, Mr. Weasley trying to cheer me up with plugs, Tonks dropping by just to chat, and several letters arriving from Fred all in the course of a few minutes. Still. Surrounded by all those people who loved me, I just wanted my daddy. I didn't understand why he hadn't been there...

The renewed bout of illness was not as bad as the first wave I suffered. I was mostly better after another day and a half in bed but Mrs. Weasley kept me confined for three. Remus refused to answer my questions about my dad for the first two.

"But why wasn't he there?" I pestered, sulking and hardly paying attention to the half-hearted game of wizard chess in which my godfather and I were embroiled, "I don't understand. I heard him say that he was there."

"I've explained this already, Stella," He replied, unable to meet my eyes, which was how I knew he wasn't being truthful, "It was a code phrase. We used to use them all the time when we were in Hogwarts to plan pranks and this situation bodes itself well to a return to those old habits."

I pouted, "Knight to B-3. It didn't sound like Daddy was talking in code. It sounded like he was just telling you where he was."

"Well, that's the point, isn't it?" Remus lied rather badly, "The code isn't very good if it isn't subtle. Bishop to F-5."

I stared across at the old man for a few long moments, taking in his diverted gaze and hunched shoulders. "I don't believe you," I angrily accussed, "You told him to leave. I know you did."

Remus finally looked up, meeting my blue eyes with his brown ones. He sighed heavily. "Yes," He admitted, "I did. I'm sorry, Stella. But it's not safe for you to be seen together."

"I was careful!" I shouted, moving the chessboard rather ungently to the bedside table, "I made sure no one followed me and I wouldn't have let anything happen to him! It wouldn't have done any harm just to let me see him!"

"It could have done a lot of harm," Remus argued sternly, "You had no way of guaranteeing it was a safe place. You could have been seen or captured or killed and I'm not about to let you throw your life away just because you can't be patient."

"I haven't seen my father in fourteen years!!" I yelled, "The time for patience is long past!!"

"The present is always a time for caution," My godfather sagely replied, unaffected by my anger, "You've waited fourteen years and that isn't fair, but mistakes now could take your father from you forever."

And, just like that, I was terrified. Tears filled my eyes and, hard as I tried, I couldn't keep them from bubbling over.

Remus drew me into his steady embrace, allowing me to cry all over him for the second time in about as many days.

"I wasn't try to put him in danger," I blubbered, "I-I didn't mean to."

"I know that, darling girl," Remus replied, voice soft and understanding, "And I'm sorry you can't see you father. I'm doing my best to bring him back to you."

I sniffled, moping, "You're taking too long... I want to help."

Of course, he gave the standard line of reasoning for why I could not: "You're too young."

"I'm nearly sixteen," I argued stubbornly, "Just because I'm not ancient doesn't mean I can't help. I'm probably smarter than whoever else you've got working with you."

My godfather chuckled. "That may be," He stated, rocking me softly, "But you're still too young. You just get well and catch up on your school work and be with your friends. Let me worry about the rest."

I opened my mouth to argue but he cut me off, sighing in exasperation as he offered, "I'll make you a deal, alright? Give me another month. If I haven't found a way, then I'll let you help."

"A whole month?" I complained, secretly elated, "How about a week?"

"Did I give the impression that this was something that could be negotiated?" He responded, vaguely teasing as he arched a tawny eyebrow.

I pouted, "Mean old man."

xxXxx

I started a countdown calendar for the month that I'd promised Remus. After Mrs. Weasley let me out of bed, I made an appointment with Ozzy for the photoshoot to take place the following week, an appointment with my shrink for the following day, and then decided to pop in at Hogwarts to visit the twins. They were several days into a new term and, based on past years, I was fairly certain they would be in the mood for a bit of mayhem.

After flooing into Hogsmeade, I took a secret passage into the castle and wandered around until I found them. It was mid-morning so they were in class, not even trying to stay awake through History of Magic. Fighting down giggles with a hand clasped tightly over my mouth, I peeked around the corner of the doorway to watch them in the back row. Fred was slumped forward in his desk, drooling a puddle; beside him, George was sprawled backwards, neck bent at an awkward angle and mouth hanging open as he snored quite comically.

They were adorable.

And I couldn't resist.

"FRED AND GEORGE WEASLEY!!" I shouted furiously, spelling my voice to sound deep, and like it was coming from all throughout the room, "REPORT IMMEDIATELY TO THE HEADMASTER'S OFFICE!!"

Startled by the booming and never-before-encountered speaker system, the class jerked awake; a select few toppled straight out of their chairs. Because it was apparently my lucky day, Fred and George were both among them, cursing furiously as they landed in a heap on the floor.

"Well, er..." Binns stated blankly, also seeming surprised by the strange new announcement charm, "I think you'd better do what he said, Weasleys."

Somber, quite clearly racking their brains for what they could have possibly done in the last few days to warrant such a summons, the twins pulled themselves up, brushed themselves off, gathered their things, and tromped out of the room.

I let them walk a bit down the hall before I snuck up and took a flying leap onto Fred's back. "How are my two favorite coppertops doing on this fine day?" I chirped, kissing Fred's neck and grinning when I felt him shiver.

"OY! Stella!" George laughed, "That was you? Damnit, woman! I was about ready to piss meself!"

"TMI, Georgie Porgie," I giggled, "And I couldn't help it! Any longer stuck in that class and you both surely would have slipped into irreversible boredom comas! What kind of friend would I be if I allowed such a thing to happen?"

Fred beamed at me over his shoulder, stating, "Hello."

I grinned back, coyly answering, "Hi."

We both had it bad.

"Would you like to come round to my front so that I can greet you properly?" The boy asked with a suggestive waggle of his ginger eyebrows, caressing my calves where they were wrapped around his middle.

"Nuh uh," I sighed, holding on tigher, "You've got a very comfortable back."

"Puke," George remarked flatly, "Are you two going to be this gushy all the time? 'Coz if you are, then I'm going to start holding auditions for new best friends."

"We are not gushy," Fred sniffed, sounding quite offended.

"Besides," I laughed, "You'd never find a pair of best friends quite as good as us. We are simply astounding in every way imaginable."

George sighed theatrically. "I suppose," He said, "But that means I'm doomed to be the third wheel for all eternity."

"You could always get your own girlfriend," Fred suggested helpfully.

"Who said I was your girlfriend?" I teased, tickling his sides.

The lech turned to grin at me, taunting, "Who said I was talking about you?"

"OY!!" I shrieked, swatting him on the shoulder while he laughed uproariously, "Fine then! You just blew it, mister!"

"Aw, come on, Stel," He whined, still unable to get himself to stop snickering even while he tried to wrestle me into staying latched onto him, "I was kidding! You're the only girl for me."

"Damn well better be," I huffed, ruining the pouty mood by giving up my bid for escape and cuddling further into Fred's warm, strong back, "What do you boys want to do today?"

They shared one of those Significant Looks that I absolutely hate, communicating wordlessly in the freaky way twins do. Before I could get too annoyed, George brightly suggested, "We could nick an early lunch from the kitchens and have a picnic by the lake."

I shook my head, arguing, "It's too cold out for that. I've got a feeling your mum is going to have me chained down to the bed if I manage to get myself sick again."

"And no one's allowed to chain you anywhere but me," Fred agreed, again grinning lecherously over his shoulder and waggling his eyebrows, "And certainly not for such noble reasons... though I have to say that I wouldn't complain about coming home to find you in such a state."

"I'll have to remember that," I teased, my voice low and seductive, "Perhaps for the next time you've done something very good and need to be rewarded generously."

"I'd like to reiterate my early complaint concerning this gross flirty thing you two are so insistent upon doing in my presence," George butted in, only half serious, "At least focus long enough for us to decide on a plan."

"Sorry, Georgie," I cooed, leaning over to give him a peck on the cheek, "Early lunch sounds splendid. Why don't we just eat in the Room of Requirement?"

"I'm in," Fred eagerly agreed, beaming at his brother, "Mind getting the food, Gred? Me and Stella will ready the room."

He rolled his eyes, stalking off as he good-naturedly grumbled, "If it'll save me from your googling and sweet nothings. You'd just better be fully dressed by the time I get back..." The redhead stopped for a moment, smiling brightly at me as he amended, "Well, actually, you shouldn't feel any need to stay clothed on my account, Stel. I wouldn't mind. Not in the least."

"Nice try, mate," I laughed, shooing him away towards the kitchens, "I admire your spirit. Now get me a sandwich while I molest your brother."

He huffed, trekking off and grumbling, "No fair. I want to get molested, too."

xxXxx

No molestation really occurred, though I had intended to work up a bit of an appetite by making out with Fred. But, instead, we got to the Room of Requirement to find that it was already occupied.

Of course, we didn't notice that right away. Fred and I were already inside, giggling happily over a joke while I laid kisses against the back of his neck. The room looked like the Gryffindor Commons so we didn't see that anything was amiss as he dumped me down into a squashy red sofa. The burly redhead flopped on top of me, attacking me with tickles as he pressed his lips to mine for a long, tender kiss. Both our sets of hands wandered experimentally.

We heard an uncomfortable cough.

We both looked up, though didn't bother breaking apart, and we saw my little godbrother staring at us awkwardly from the other side of the room, his little golden egg thingie situated snugly in his lap. "Er," He greeted, "Hello."

"'Sup, boy wonder?" I teased, only a little cruelly as I was on my way to but had not yet fully gotten over his betrayals and hurtful words, "Interesting little fuck toy... do you go in it or does it go in you?"

I felt rather than saw Fred blush as I watched Harry turn bright, bright red. "It's my clue," The bespectacled lad pitifully defended, "For the next challenge."

"Fascinating," I chirped, making sure to sound utterly bored, "Why don't you scamper off and find elsewhere to play with the fuck toy? Us grownups need the room."

Looking tragically sad and embarrassed, the boy did just that, throwing one last mournful pout in my direction as he left. "I'm sorry, Stel," He whispered. I pretended not to hear.

When he was gone, Fred gave a deep sigh and rolled off of me, sitting up and running his fingers through his shaggy ginger hair. I frowned, wondering what was wrong.

"Not that I don't enjoy watching you torment Harry," Fred began with a disarming smile, "But how much longer are you going to?"

"As long as I damn well feel like it," I replied angrily, "For as long as he tortured me and maybe thensome. Why? Have you got a problem?"

He stared at me with his big blue eyes all wide and soulful, the manipulative bastard, and stated, "It's just... you love Harry."

Sighing, I leaned my head against his shoulder. He put his arms around me and held me tight.

"I do love Harry," I murmured, choking down a lump in my throat, "But... he was cruel to me. And it hurt so much... I want to forgive him but I don't know if I can. And maybe I was hoping that being mean to him would make it easier. You know, an eye for an eye?"

"I believe the second half of that saying goes 'makes the whole world blind,'" Fred chuckled, pressing his lips to my temple, "Don't want to see you blinded, love."

After thinking hard for a few long moments, I answered, "He's still a horrid little shithead."

"Agreed," Fred laughed, "But he's your horrid little shithead, and he's sorry, Stel. If you want anything more from him, it'd be unfair not to at least say what before you keep on torturing the lad."

I laughed breathlessly, stating, "You are wise beyond your years, Mr. Weasley."

"Thank you, Miss Black," He replied happily, "Your regard means the world to me."

We sat in silence for a few long moments before he tentatively ventured, "You know you can talk to me about anything, right?"

A little blindsided, as well as confused, I answered, "Um, ya, of course... any particular reason behind that completely random question?"

He grinned sweetly, "I worry."

"Goofy bastard," I laughed, leaning over to kiss his cheek just as the door swung open and the other half of the goofy bastard duo arrived with our lunch. "Hands where I can see 'em," George demanded, stumbling clumsily into the room.

"Your eyes are closed," His brother pointed out, "You can't see a bloody thing."

"It's a defense mechanism," George retorted, banging his shin on a low table, "Ouch! I don't want to have to witness any physical manifestations of your flirting... so is it safe yet?"

Rolling my eyes, I snapped, "Yes, you big baby. Merlin, you act like you caught us screwing on your stomach."

George finally opened his eyes and both twins stared at me like I'd grown a third head. "Take a joke, boys," I laughed, relieving George of a plate of sandwiches.

We settled in for a nice, quiet lunch, chatting lightly about pretty much nothing but mostly just stuffing our faces. Both twins were staring at me a bit more than usual and it was making me slightly nervous.

After a little while, George made a big show of swallowing his last bite and smiling sweetly at me. "So, Stel," He began, "Anything you'd like to talk about? You know you can talk to us about anything, right?"

I stopped chewing and narrowed my eyes at the both of them. "Ok, what's going on?" I demanded suspiciously.

Wielding a pair of mirror-image innocent faces, the twins chirped, "Nothing."

"People don't remind other people that they can talk to them about anything unless they've already got a topic in mind and are more scared than they are nosy to just bring it up directly," I argued sensibly, "Since both of you have reminded me that I can talk to you about anything in the last ten minutes, I've got to think that you've got a topic. So what is it?"

They squirmed uncomfortably for awhile, stammering and stuttering and sharing a whole conversation worth of Significant Looks. I barely managed to keep my rising anger under control until Fred finally answered, "We, um... we were just worried about... how you were handling the situation with your dad."

"Ya!" George eagerly contributed, "You rushed off to see him and got your hopes up and he wasn't there and we just wanted to make sure you were alright with it and if you wanted to talk to us then that would be great because we're awesome at advice and stuff."

He babbles when he lies.

"You babble when you lie," I spat venomously, folding my arms across my chest and glaring at the both of them, "Tell me what's really going on right now!"

"It's the truth, Stel," Fred defended, putting his hand on my shoulder and kneading softly, "We know it must be hard not being able to see your dad and we don't want you to hold in what you're feeling. We want you to be able to tell us and... and not end up hurt again."

My anger softened. I still felt so guilty over all I'd put my friends through and there they were, just worried about me again, and I couldn't do find the will to deny them this little piece of mind that they were asking for. "It's hard not being allowed to see him," I murmured softly, leaning against Fred's shoulder and letting both twins put their arms around me, "I was really let down when I thought... but I'm doing alright. I'm not bad like I used to be. You don't have to worry too much."

"That's our job," George countered proudly, giving me a tender squeeze, "Now, come on. Give us a bit more to work with... go back to the beginning if you need to. I mean, we've talked it before, but you didn't go into too much detail and we didn't want to push you but it might help. We know about how you were feeling in Hogwarts during those months, and some of your time in the hospital, but then we've kind of got a bit of an information gap until you went to Africa. That was about the time that your dad escaped so maybe you should start there, you know?"

Claire's death and the moments leading up to it immediately flashed through my mind. I turned my gaze to the floor and fought back tears as I hotly insisted, "I don't want to talk about that."

Fred gently prodded, "Stella-"

"I said I don't want to talk about that!" I shouted, shoving their arms off me, "Just drop it!"

"Why are so you so upset?" George continued on, hardly seeming like he'd heard my order, "Did something happen then? You should tell us, Stel. Get it off your chest and you'll feel a lot better."

"There's nothing to tell!!" I insisted, pushing myself abruptly up from the couch and storming out of the room without a backwards glance.

xxXxx

I think they must have chased me but, after sprinting frantically through a maze of hidden passages, I found myself alone near the library. At that time of day, the corridor was deserted so I took a moment to catch my breath, collapsing on the floor and gasping hard.

I was focusing all my energy on not crying. It would have been more than easy let it happen. I kept thinking about Claire, what she did to me and what I did to her. I couldn't tear my mind away from that night and it was like I was back there. My eyes were shut tight but I just kept seeing it, over and over, and I tried and tried and tried and failed to catch my breath, to hold back the anger and fear and shame. A band of panic was constricting my chest, making it harder rather than easier to draw in air.

I was so dizzy, sick to my stomach and close to passing out. It probably would have been a good thing, saving me from myself and whatnot. However, I felt warm hands on my shoulders and struggled to hear someone shouting my name past the droning in my oxygen-starved head.

"Stella? Stella, come on, talk to me! What's wrong? Are you hurt?"

I couldn't answer and couldn't breathe and all I could see was the orgasmic expression on Claire's face while she was raping me, the confusion and betrayal as I pushed her away, as she fell and bashed her head, and then that blankness and hurt in the second she passed from living to dead...

"Stella! Stella, you need to breathe! Cho, go get the nurse! Stella! Stella!"

Behind my closed eyes, the world grew darker and then slipped away in the space of a second.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

That's all for now, sports fans! Sorry about the delay. School is, as always, a bitch. Review are like chocolate but fat free so, in fact, superior.