Part 18 - Little Things

Doxy egg allergies are very, very rare. Only one in several million people has one.

Of course, I am one of those lucky people. And I discovered this quaint fact one lovely February evening when Fred slipped a Nosebleed Nougat prototype--which just happened to be chockfull of doxy eggs--into my dinner and I shrank to the size of a mouse.

"I'm going to kill you," I told him, for the third time since it had happened. I couldn't really think of anything else to say, achy and suffering from a rather severe case of vertigo. Suddenly being so small can really throw off a person's perspective.

In response to my threat, George snorted. "Stel, you're three inches tall and sound like you've been sucking on a balloon," he laughed, kind of uneasy, "And you're kind of naked. I don't think you're not going to be killing anyone or anything quite that high on the food chain."

Did I forget to mention that my clothes hadn't shrunk with me? Ya. I tend to leave that part out when telling the story. It's not really the most horrible part, but it's definitely my least favorite.

Glaring, clutching tightly to the thankfully clean handkerchief wrapped around my miniscule body, I held on tight to Fred's thumb in order to keep my balance in his massive hand. I was much too far off the ground and extremely terrified. "Naked and tiny or not, I will chew through your jugular," I hissed, "You turned me into a wingless pixie!"

"Well, you make a very cute wingless pixie," Fred offered, looking nervous and guilty. He abandoned the book he'd been flipping through with his free hand--because I was kind of terrified and was refusing to let go of the other. "I'm sorry, Stel," the redhead sighed, "I had no idea you were allergic to doxy eggs. The good news is that you should be back to normal height in about three days-"

"THREE DAYS?!" I shrieked, wincing at how squeaky and high-pitched I sounded, like a B-movie munchkin, "I CAN'T LIVE LIKE THIS FOR THREE FUCKING DAYS!!"

"There's nothing that can be done," Fred muttered, blushing, "Our antidote didn't do anything but stop the nosebleed. The only way to get doxy eggs out of your system is to let them breakdown on their own. I'll take you to see Pomfrey if you'd like, but she's going to say the same thing."

I deflated a bit, slumping down into Fred's palm, hugging the base of his thumb and bursting into tears. "I don't want to be this motherfucking small!" I wailed, sobbing rather violently, "I don't have any clothes! I'm going to get squished! A cat is going to eat me!"

"I'm really sorry, Stel," Fred said, carefully drawing the tip of one finger against my shaking back, "I'm sorry. But you're going to be fine. I swear. We'll look after you until you're better."

"Of course," George soothed, offering a comforting grin, "We'll make sure you're safe. No cats and no squishing. And, look, it's Saturday, right? You've only got to make it until Tuesday night. We'll cut class and keep an eye on you. We won't let you out of our sights."

Sniffling, I weakly laughed, "You just want an excuse not to go to class, slacker."

George chuckled and said, "I'm thinking only of your wellbeing, Stella-dear."

"You suck," I hiccupped, curling up into a teeny tiny ball in Fred's palm, pressing my snotty face against his thumb. "My whole body hurts," I complained, sounding almost unbearably childish.

"That's soreness from the rapid shrinking," Fred reassured me, trying to smile, "Just wait until you have to grow up again."

I gave his hand a brief punch that I'm sure he barely felt. Damn being small.

And then, because I'm awesome, I got the greatest idea ever.

"Stella?" Fred asked, disturbed by the excited, scheming smile breaking out on my tear-streaked face, "Stel, whatever it is, no. Don't even think about it."

I turned to grin at him, standing unsteadily and declaring, "Too late. I've thought. And I am a genius."

Giving an uneasy chuckle, George responded, "Every time you're a genius, we get into trouble. Buildings explode. Nations collapse."

I flashed my most charming smile, "Not every time. And this really is the culmination of all my considerable deviousness and intelligence. Besides, you shrank me. I think that earns a free pass on whatever I want to do."

I glared at the boys until they showed signs of giving into my demand, and then I sprang it on them: "I want you to mail me to my dad."

xxXxx

The several hours of inevitable arguing that followed were quite boring, so let's skip them. I eventually guilted the twins into going along with my plan. Well, that and I threatened to try to do it on my own. No matter what they said, they were just as worried as I was about my being squished or eaten. A solo trip to the owlery would have undoubtedly resulted in my becoming lunch for one of our fine feathered friends.

So Fred found a sturdy box and poked holes in it, cushioned the inside and packed me some food and water and normal sized clothing, as well as my wand and a decent amount of cash for when I was big again, so that I could get myself home from wherever I ended up. Because that was a main issue: we weren't sure where I would end up. Wherever my dad was, was the plan. But there was no telling. As much as it was genius, there were a lot of things that could've gone wrong.

"Stella, I'm begging you," Fred said, again, carrying me on our quest to find Harry, "Please, think about this."

"What's to think about," I replied, grinning from inside my comfy shoebox and my not so comfy dress (the tiny clothing selection among Ginny's doll collection was both hideous and illfitting but pretty much the only reliable option I had), "It's awesome and going to happen, with or without your help."

"This is so dangerous," he sighed, "I should just lock you in somewhere until the doxy eggs wear off. They obviously had some adverse effects on your brain."

Pouting, I replied, "Hey, watch it, mister. Need I remind you how your fault this whole thing is? And if you lock me anywhere, then you can say goodbye to any future possibility of getting past second base."

George snickered, watching his twin's bright blush and my smug, tiny smile.

Harry was alone in the library, thank goodness, and he jumped nearly out of his pasty skin when the twins flopped noisily down on either side of him. As per the plan, they'd already closed and secured the lid of my box, so that Harry couldn't actually see what he was mailing. Last thing I wanted to do was spend another precious few hours having to talk the brat into my plan. Anyways, I saw very little through the air holes but found that I could hear perfectly fine.

"Special delivery for Padfoot," Fred stated, terse and nervous. I could feel his continuing reluctance in the way he kept a warm, steady hand on the box.

"Stella's orders," George supplied, a disarming grin in his voice, "Wants it sent right this very second."

Suspicious, Harry looked at each twin in turn. I could make out the motion of his head as shadows falling across my air holes. "She just gave me a package a few hours ago," he said, quiet, "I already sent the owl off... and what's in there anyways? It looks like something alive..."

"Asking questions doesn't score you points," Fred answered, pointedly, "Do you want to complain and nose around, or do you want Stella actually talking to you again?"

He's so persuasive.

I could tell that Harry nodded. "Ya, ok," the boy said, already packing his books and parchments. He sounded depressed. I felt an intense urge to hug him and make it all better.

I didn't, of course, and Fred carried me while the twins accompanied Harry down to the owlery. It was a fairly long walk. They had time to talk.

"How goes the champion business?" George asked, neutral and conversational.

Sighing, Harry replied, "Pretty dreadful. I figured out that I need to be able to breathe underwater for the next task, but I can't find any spells or charms that I can do that will let me do it."

"I'm sure you'll find something," George said. He sounded like he'd shrugged.

The threesome walked along in silence for a few minutes.

"Did Stella... say anything to you two?" Harry finally asked, hesitant, "You know, about this whole points thing and... if she's really going to give me another chance?"

"You're already being given another chance," Fred insisted, somewhat harsh and obviously annoyed, "What you did broke her. Do you even understand that?"

Inside the hot, dark interior of the box, I shifted to press my face against one of the tiny airholes, to see out and see Harry's reaction.

He was wearing an expression one might expect on to seen on an individual who just realized he's kicked a puppy. "I understand," the teen murmured, ashamed, "I just... I want to make it right-"

"You probably can't," Fred cut him off, unusually surly, probably because he was so nervous about going through with my plan, "But Stella isn't capable of not loving your scrawny arse just because it happens to be attached to a complete and utter bastard."

It was actually a very accurate capturing of my sentiments. Trust Fred to be the one to so perfectly sum up the situation.

After a few moments of thoughtful silence, Harry sighed again, commenting, "I'm grateful for that. But I miss her. I didn't realize... she really was one of my best friends. She always watched out for me and I never appreciated that." I saw a bare hint of a smile on his face, suddenly noticing how gaunt and pale the boy had become. "Even thought she's only kind of harassing me now, I like having her talking to me again."

Sweet little pillock.

"Well, we'll just have to see how things turn out," George remarked blandly, offering Harry a smile and a comforting clap on the back, "Stella can hold a grudge, but usually not for very long. Especially not if you're really trying your best to make things right."

I'm fairly sure the comment was for my benefit just as much as Harry's.

Anyways, after a bit of a walk, they finally reached the owlery. Fred very reluctantly relinquished my box. It was only then that I appreciated just how steady and careful he'd been with it. Harry let it swing and rock quite a bit more, despite a fierce scolding from the twins. I was very quickly queasy.

Which was nothing compared with the feeling of lifting into the air and setting off towards my father.

xxXxx

The journey took roughly two days and was not pleasant. I had food and water, but I couldn't really touch it. My stomach was in a constant state of protest as the school owl let my box sway and swing precariously. I was motion sick for the entirety, sticking my head out of the airholes to dry heave violently. Hot and miserable and itchy in that damn frilly doll dress.

On top of that, I was scared even sicker that this strange reaction was going to wear off midflight and I was going to end up busting the box and plummeting.

But that didn't happen. Finally, fucking finally, the box bumped as it hit dirt. Achy and nauseas, I laid perfectly still for quite awhile, just enjoying the fact that I was not flying anymore, even though I kind of had that phantom thing going on, like when you're on a boat for a long time and then get off but can still feel the waves rocking you back and forth.

I'm not sure how long I was there before the box lurched and was moving again, most of the air holes blocked from the sunlight and letting in horrible dog breath and excited pants. It was too much, I groaned and stuck my head out one of a free airhole and tried to puke but couldn't. There was absolutely nothing left in my stomach. I dry heaved loudly.

There was a startled yelp, not mine, and then I was falling. Some rough tumbling followed. I barely got my head pulled back inside in time to avoid having it crushed.

I was still again, but only for a moment. The lid came off the box... or, actually, the bottom half was pulled up, since the box was upside down. Being in the fresh air again had almost no effect on the smothering humidity. Disentangling myself from the cloth lining and my uneaten food supply, I blinked up into the sunlight and the startled eyes of my puppy. My daddy.

And that was about the time I passed out cold.

xxXxx

It was dehydration. Stupid me, puking all the liquid out of my shrunken little body and not bothering to replenish it.

I woke up the second time with my dad's human face instead of the dog one hovering over mine. He looked freaked out of his shaggy skull.

"Stella? Baby?" he questioned, anxious, his rough hands hovering like he was afraid to let them touch me, "Are you- what- how did this-" The poor man couldn't seem to decide what he wanted to ask first.

I smiled serenely up at him, at his blue-gray eyes--identical to mine except for the wrinkles at the corners, years of stress and torture and worry--at his gaunt, weathered cheeks and the tight line of his chapped lips. Aside from the skinniness and deep lines, the man looked pretty much the same as I remembered.

"Hey, Daddy," I sighed, still a bit queasy, still fucking small but so damn relieved.

His mouth gaped open and closed a few times. And then he sagged, smiling and tearing up as he breathed, "Hey, baby girl... how're you feeling?"

"Alright," I answered, quite choked up myself, "Better now that I'm on the ground." I did finally notice the ground. It was deep brown dirt, warm and sprinkled sparsely with leaf litter from the tall trees around us. They, along with the humidity and brightly colored flowers and sounds of bird and monkey calls, alerted me to the fact that we were somewhere tropical. Mexico? South America?

"Not that I'm not thrilled you're here, love," Daddy said, soft, holding out his hand for me to climb into and carefully bringing my small body up near his crinkled smile, "But Moony is going to kill us... well, mainly me, so I guess it's worth it."

I grinned, throwing my arms around his thumb and squeezing tight. "Uncle Remus will understand," I replied, sighing happily, "I just couldn't wait any longer. And, besides, he did promise that he'd finally let me start helping."

Dad looked at me a little funnily, asking, "Helping? With what?"

"You know," I said, "With trying to get you safe and back in the country and somewhere I can see you."

"Oh," Dad answered, "Ya, of course... Well, you certainly went about it in a highly creative manner. What is with the tininess?"

Snickering, I announced, "Doxy egg allergy."

"Oh," Dad said again, smiling brightly, "Ya, I've got one of those. Hurts like a bitch in the shrinking and unshrinking parts, but it's useful for causing a bit of mayhem in between." Giggling, babbling with an air of nervousness, he continued, "This one time, I wanted to surprise Moony for his birthday, so I ate some doxy eggs and got Prongs to wrap me up as a present. You should've seen Moony's face when he opened the box and I jumped out. I thought he was going to have a stroke."

I snickered far more than was probably appropriate.

"But then a cat tried to eat me," Dad continued, looking suddenly and ferociously concerned. "Love!" he cried out, "You're going to get eaten! By something a lot worse than a cat! What were you thinking coming here?!"

Pouting, I gazed up at him and replied, "I wanted to see you. And I was through waiting. I'm sure I won't get eaten." Actually, I was terrified of getting eaten. But I wasn't going to let onto it.

Anyways, Dad held me closer, setting off at a gentle but quick trot into the jungle, the box with all my assorted supplies tucked under one of his arms. "Well, I'm not taking any chances," Dad declared, "We're going somewhere safe and away from cats until you're better. How many more days do you have?"

"Should only be one more," I replied, snuggling into the callous, hastily but thoroughly cleaned skin of my daddy's palm, "Really, I'll be fine. How are you? Have you been getting my letters?"

He flashed me an adoring grin, chirping, "Sure have. They're the highlight of my days. How in the hell did you get a hold of those drawings? I thought for sure they'd been lost."

"Narcissa still had your desk," I announced, quite proud of my genius caper, "So I stole it."

His wolfish smile grew wider. "You are a gem," he chortled adoringly, "An absolute gem."

"Not half bad yourself, Daddy," I answered, happy to be home.

xxXxx

Dad had sort of a makeshift camp at the mouth of a shallow cave, a cooking pit and a fallen log with a canvas tarp stretched overhead for shade. It wasn't much. Dad seemed a little embarrassed. He had no reason to be; I was glad to be anywhere as long as it was with him.

"So, are you hungry?" he asked, carrying me carefully shielded body between his cupped hands like I was about to be snatched away at any second. "I've got... um... some bread and some chocolate frogs left from Harry's last package. I'll go and get some real food once I'm sure you're not going to get eaten when I let you out of my sight." He looked so painfully nervous, almost twitching with it.

Shrugging, I said, "I'm not hungry. My stomach is still a little upset. But I'll be fine with whatever you have. I don't care about food." I smiled up at him, just... speechless. I'd been waiting so damn long for this moment, and now that it had arrived, I couldn't think of anything really important to say.

Dad appeared to be having similar difficulties, continually opening his mouth like he was going to say something and then deciding not to and closing it once again.

For awhile, we just stared at each other, hardly seeming to believe we were together after so many years apart.

Dad finally chuckled, complaining, "Merlin, I waited so long for this and now I don't even know what to say to you. How's that for irony, eh?"

Laughing, I countered, "Pretty good, I'd say, especially since I'm faced with the same ironic circumstance." I sat down Indian style in the plam of his hand, smiling upwards and suggesting, "Anymore good doxy-shrinkage stories? I'm always looking for new ideas."

He grinned and volunteered, "Sure, I've got a ton! Moony always said me and Prongs really abused the allergy. Prongs kept talking me into shrinking down and spying on Lily for him. His invibility cloak wasn't practical in crowds, so I'd hide out in her purse. One of those times was when the cat almost ate me, so Moony forbade us from doing it anymore."

I giggled, adding, "He's funny when he's forbidding things. You know, thinking he'll be listened to."

"Right," Dad chuckled, "Didn't really work on us either. Next shrinkage after that was aimed mainly at infiltrating the headmaster's office. I hitched a ride on someone's pantleg and then snuck about inside. I leafed through all his stuff and just generally made a mess of things. Did that for a couple days. I had him thinking that the castle was infested with sentient mice."

"Almost true," I snickered, "Definitely going to have to give that one a try."

Beaming, Dad chirped, "All yours, baby. Enjoy. Just, you know, be careful of cats."

"Never liked those things," I declared, wrinkling my tiny nose, "They're vicious and completely disloyal. Not like dogs."

"I was always more of a dog-man myself," Dad replied.

After only a moment, we both shared a hearty laugh.

This... it felt good. It felt right. I was glad to be home.

xxXxx

Most of the first day and evening was just us swapping crazy stories, about shrinking and lots of other fun stuff. My dad had some damn good ones, ones I was going to have to try for myself at the first available opportunity. I had quite a few that Dad proclaimed were sheer brilliance, especially the desk caper, which I recounted at great length and to great amusement.

Still exhausted and depleted from the journey, I fell asleep a bit early. Dad covered me in a blanket and curled up around me, kept watch over me the whole night, kept me warm and protected me while I unshrank.

I woke up naked beneath the blanket (having busted out of the doll dress), almost too sore to move. But Dad was ready with a painrelief potion, one of the ones I'd sent with a complete first aid kit a few weeks back. Everyone should have a first aid kit at their disposal, and that just proved it.

Afterwards, I felt much better, though still sore. But at least I could get up, move around, get dressed in some practical jeans and a t-shirt, thank Merlin. Tulle is a tool of the devil.

I was absolutely famished, so Dad had me eat a few chocolate frogs for breakfast. That sure did bring back memories, though bittersweet ones since Mum was no longer around to scold us both about proper nutrition for growing bodies.

"She used to hate when I made breakfast," Dad remembered fondly, "The only things I really knew how to make were eggs and chocolate chip pancakes, and you wouldn't eat eggs."

Laughing, I recounted, "Ya, not since dear old Uncle James told me where they come from."

"Knew that was him!" Dad crowed, victorious, "Cheeky bastard said it wasn't, but I knew! No one else would be enough of an arse to tell a two-year-old that eggs come from chickens' bums! You screamed about it for weeks! We couldn't even buy eggs anymore!"

"It wasn't just that," I argued, "I didn't like the idea of eating something out of something else's bum, but I really got upset by him trying to talk to me about it and letting slip that eggs are unborn baby chickens. I didn't want to eat anything's babies. And I kept having nightmares about a giant chicken trying to eat the baby."

At the mention of my sister, Dad and I both went quiet. We remained that way for quite a few long, awkward minutes. The knot welling up in my throat would've made speaking impossible even if I'd actually had anything to say at that point.

"You know it wasn't your fault, right?" Daddy stated softly, smiling sadly as he reached out to smooth down my choppy bangs, "You don't still blame yourself?"

I certainly did and didn't want to lie, so I hurriedly looked away, sniffing back tears.

"Oh, sweetheart," Dad murmured, folding me into the warmth and safety of his thin arms, "What happened was an awful thing, but there was nothing you could've done."

"I know," I croaked, feeling comfortable and loved and at the same time guilty, "I-I just... I still think I should've. Anything could've made it all turn out different."

Nodding, Dad said, "Different, ya. But not necessarily better. You and your mum survived the blast. I'm thankful everyday for that because plenty of others didn't."

Couldn't really argue with that logic. I nodded slightly, snuggling contentedly into his chest. After a long few moments of silence, I asked, "Did you guys have a name picked out?"

Dad rested his cheek on top of my head. I could feel him smiling, sadly. "Your mum liked Ariel," he murmured, chuckling, "She probably would've changed her mind a dozen and a half more times, but she was set on it when... you know."

"Ariel," I repeated, finding it odd that... that she suddenly had a name, after all those years... "It's pretty," I declared.

"Mhmm," Daddy agreed.

There was really nothing more to say.

xxXxx

Later that afternoon, when I was more recovered from the side effects of my rapid unshrinking, Dad packed up camp and took me on a long hike through the jungle. He let it slip that we were in a rainforest in Brazil, though caught himself before spilling any other relevant geographical information. Like not knowing was going to stop me from visiting him again if the urge arose.

But anyways, the hike was magnificent, marked throughout by some of the most beautiful and interesting plants, animals, and geographical features I had ever seen. And Dad was a pretty damn good tour guide. He didn't know the real names of any of the sights but made up ones that had to be three times as good. It rained off and on, and we splashed through mud puddles, so, yeah, totally worth the damp socks.

We hiked until we reached a stream and then hiked up the stream until we found its source: a calm, clear pool at the base of a small waterfall. We set up camp on the shore and ate lunch--some kind of spicy fruit Dad had collected along the way--and then swam and horsed around for the rest of the day. It was all so... simple. So picturesque and utopian. So easy to forget that it wasn't my life, not really.

As twilight set in, Dad transformed and left me on my own for an hour or so, letting me dry off and warm up by the fire. He returned dragging a fresh kill. At the time, we just called it an anteater-pig. Later, I discovered that it had been a tapir. Either way, Dad cooked us up an extravagant meal of anteater-pig and various unidentifiable tropical fruits. Both of us stuffed ourselves to the point of almost bursting, probably consuming close to half the meat. The rest got packed away for the coming days.

When dinner was over, we stretched out beside the fire and watched the stars through a hole in the canopy. We swapped more wild stories. I don't really remember falling asleep, but I slept like I was a child again, worry-free and secure in the knowledge that my daddy would never let anything bad happen to me.

I woke suddenly to near darkness, unsure of why. The fire was almost out, only coals glowing, radiating soft heat. A sliver of moon hung suspended overhead in a breathtaking sea of stars. Somewhat disoriented at finding myself awake, I whispered, "Daddy?"

He wasn't where I'd left him.

I bolted upright, a knot of panic seizing my heart. "Daddy?" I called again, looking around frantically, finding nothing but dark jungle all around, "Daddy?!"

"What is it, love?" he finally answered, bounding back from beyond the treeline, still in the process of hurriedly zipping his fly. He fell down to his knees at my side, face full of concern, long arms reaching to pull me into a comforting hug. "What's wrong?"

"N-Nothing," I replied, still panicked and nearly sobbing, "I just- I-I woke up, and you weren't here, and I thought- I thought you'd left."

His grip tightened. Swallowing hard, he pressed a kiss to my temple. "Never, baby girl," he murmured, "Never again."

I clung hard, shuddering. "Promise?"

Dad let out a long breath. "You are my everything," he declared, "Everything I have left that means anything. There is no way in hell I'm giving you up while I'm still alive."

My exhaustion took hold again, panic washed away by relief and fatigue. Already falling asleep on my daddy's shoulder, I murmured, "Ok. Me too."

Giving a barking laugh, he released me a little ways, guiding me back down into my bedroll and tucking me in with familiar ease. "Sleep, baby girl," he ordered softly, pressing a tender kiss to my forehead, "We've got more ground to cover tomorrow, and I want to have as much fun with you as possible before Moony calls to make me give you back."

I chuckled and fell asleep not long after.

xxXxx

True to his word, Dad had me up early and hiking the following morning. We reached the Amazon River around lunch, which was sort of exciting because that made two of the world's longest and largest rivers I'd been to. Eating more tapir and playing exploding snap on a sunny bank, I told Dad about my adventure along the Nile. He countered with a fun tale of riding a riverboat on the Mississippi with my mum, literally losing his shirt in a poker game and having Mum laugh at him so hard that she couldn't even be mad anymore.

After walking a ways up the river, Dad flagged down a fisherman he knew named Felipe. He was a nice man, old and tan and wrinkled and short, with shock white hair and almost no teeth left. He also spoke fairly decent English; Dad bartered with him, most of the tapir meat for a ride for the both of us.

While Felipe took us in his small boat up the Amazon and into the Pará River branch, he taught me some Portugeuse, which was awesome because I didn't know any and am always looking to expand my language repertoire. Dad just watched and listened, smiling and sunning himself in the bow of the small, rusty motorboat.

We reached Belém, the capital city of the Brazilian state of Pará, just as the sun was setting. Felipe left us at a central port, laughing and waving as he putted off into the dark.

"What do you think, love?" Dad asked, slinging an arm around my shoulders as we strolled leisurely through a bustling downtown area, "Dinner?"

"Sure," I chirped happily, thinking of the emergency cash in my pocket, "It's on me, ok?"

"Psh," he countered playfully, "Like I'm going to let you pay for anything. In fact, I should take you shopping. I've got like, what? Twenty birthdays to make up for?"

I chuckled, "More like thirteen. I'm only fifteen now, though most people guess older."

"That's because you're so damn smart and beautiful," Dad chuckled, ducking in to press a kiss to my temple, "Let's go find a casino or something so I can kick butt at poker."

"Just don't lose your shirt again," I snickered.

Playfully tickling my side, Dad answered, "Smartarse. I still think that game was fixed."

"Whatever you have to tell yourself," I teased brightly.

xxXxx

The next few hours were very productive. The sun went down. Daddy found a backalley game and cleaned up, then took me to dinner. We had some kind of spicy Brazilian shrimp dish, which was very good. Being that Dad and I possessed a quite high degree of inherent charm and sociability, we ended up making friends with the waiter, who taught me some more useful Portugeuse phrases and also directed us to his aunt's hotel, a small place near the water, just a dozen or so rooms. We got one on the third floor and took turns showering the jungle off our bodies. By the time we were clean, it was late, and we flopped into our beds and slept until early afternoon.

We got lunch from a street vendor and then wandered near the waterfront. The day was sunny and clear, blue skies, calm seas. We had some vague plans to go do something, shopping or sightseeing or a similar activity, but in the end, we didn't do anything but walk and talk and get caught up. Daddy mostly had me telling stories, and he listened intently, always smiling and laughing, tucking me close against his side.

Another day passed, another fun-filled night. By the time we wandered back to our hotel room, Remus was there waiting. And he did not look at all happy.

"Um..." I gaped, fidgeting guiltily, "Surprise?"

His lips were pressed so tightly together that they had lost all color. His eyes flashed dangerously as he stood from the bed closest to the door. "Get your things, Stella," my uncle ordered curtly.

I was disappointed but did as he asked.

"Hey, Moony," Dad murmured, looking kind of deflated as he pushed dark hair away from his face.

"Padfoot," Uncle Remus replied. He didn't yell or scold or anything, just waited patiently while I gathered a few odds and ends.

I tried to drag it out, but I didn't have very much to pack. Before long, I was ready to go. Physically, at least.

Dad walked over and hugged me close for a long time. I couldn't help crying a little into his shoulder as he whispered, "It's ok, love. We're going to see each other again real soon. I promise. Don't be sad."

The lump in my throat prevented speech, but I did manage a brief nod as I pulled away.

Dad smiled sadly, smudging the tears off my face. He lingered a few moments longer than was strictly necessary, seeming to be committing my face to memory as I did the same for his. Then he gave me a playful shove towards Uncle Remus, murmuring, "Go on now. Before Moony spanks us both."

I laughed and left and cried the whole way home.

xxXxx

Remus didn't really get as mad as I thought he would. There was no yelling or scolding at all, even later. There was just that "I'm so disappointed in you" face that he knows I can't stand.

He was a little ticked about me stealing the desk back though. He did have some strong words with me about that.

"You've already been put on trial and almost thrown into Azkaban twice," the harried old man sighed, kneading his temples, "And that's just within the last year. Don't you think it might have been a good idea to lay low for awhile?"

Shrugging, I quipped, "It's not like I'm going to get caught."

He sighed, again, long and suffering. "You'll want to get in touch with the twins," he said, "I may have been a little hard on them when I was trying to figure out where you'd gone."

I frowned, defending, "It wasn't their fault. I made them go along with it."

"They should've had the sense to tell you no!" he snapped, clearly upset. He sighed again, adding, "I'm sorry. I don't mean to be sharp. I was just... you can't do that, Stella. You can't disappear on me. Not again."

"Sorry," I answered, giving my old uncle a big hug because he looked like he really needed one, "I just... miss him. So much. And I couldn't pass up my chance."

"I am working on getting him home for you," Remus replied, giving me a long, tight squeeze, "I know you hate being patient, but I'm doing my best."

"I know," I told him, pulling away to give the man a wide smile, "Thanks."

Smirking, Remus ruffled my hair and ordered, "Well, go on then. Go see the twins. They were worried as well."

"Teach them to slip me experiments," I giggled, pecking my uncle on the cheek before heading off.

xxXxx

The twins, as Remus had stated, were beside themselves with worry and appeared equally as relieved when I surprised them after dinner.

"Merlin, Stel," Fred sighed, practically squeezing the life out of me, "Let's never do that again, ok?"

"Well," I countered mischieviously, "At least not the mailing part."

Laughing, he hugged me closer and kissed my neck and mumbled, "Brat."

"So?" George questioned when it was his turn to wrap me up in his arms, "How was it?"

"It was amazing!" I gushed, beaming, "We had so much fun!"

George smirked, letting me go just far enough to give my arse a quick smack as he added, "I'm glad."

I didn't do anything to fight the seemingly never-ending smile on my face, sending an elbow into George's ribs as I chirped, "Uncle Remus said he was rough on you guys finding out where I was. Nothing you couldn't handle though, right?"

Snorting, Fred slung an arm around my shoulders and replied, "Nah. Just threatened to shove our heads up each other's arses. And I'm pretty sure he was dead serious."

"Oh," I laughed, "If that was it, then you got off easy."

"Stella!"

I turned around and saw Cedric Diggory jogging out of the Great Hall with Cho Change at his side. They were so cute together, so genuinely happy.

"Hey, guys," I greeted, waving brightly, "How're things?"

"Peachy," Cedric chirped, pulling me into a friendly, rather startling hug, "Yourself?"

"Oh, I'm fine," I laughed, soothing Fred's jealous glare by slipping my hand into his, "You looking forward to that second task?"

The tall brunette chuckled, nervously fluffing his hair as he replied, "Guess that's one way to put it. I'm kind of just hoping not to screw up too badly at this point. How about you?" He turned his attention to Fred, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively, "Any big plans for Valentine's Day?"

"Top secret," Fred countered proudly.

I turned and laughed at him, joking, "First I've heard of this."

He pouted, sweet and heartfelt. "Course I made plans," the redhead whined, "You want to spend it with me, don't you?"

"Course," I responded eagerly, brushing a kiss on his cheek, "Idiot."

He grinned brilliantly.

xxXxx

So that was how, early in the evening on February 14th, 1995, I found myself waiting on the deserted Hogsmeade train platform. I'd received a letter from Fred in the afternoon with instructions to do so. And I trusted him enough to follow them, but, of course, I felt rather foolish standing there in a short, sexy red dress, with my hair and makeup done perfectly.

I only had a light shawl, so I was kind of cold, hopping from foot to high-heeled foot and rubbing my bare arms for warmth, watching my breath freeze in the air. Fred was about ten minutes late and, due to the fact that I'd freeze otherwise, I was only going to give him about five more. The sun would be setting soon, and the dark would only make the cold worse.

That was when I heard the hiss of a steam engine. I turned and saw the Hogwarts Express rumbling towards me down the tracks.

An involuntary laugh bubbled out of my throat. I shook my head, watching and waiting as the train got closer and stopped at the platform. After only a moment, Fred appeared in one of the doorways, beaming and looking unbearably handsome in a crisp black tuxedo.

"Evening, love," he greeted smoothly, holding out a red rose, "You are a vision, as usual."

"Fred," I laughed, taking the flower and then Fred's hand up onto the vehicle, "Tell me you didn't steal a train."

"Borrowed it for a truly excellent cause," he countered, winking, ducking in to kiss me as the contraption lurched back to life. The kiss got kind of intense kind of fast, deep and long as we hung almost halfway out of the train car.

When we finally pulled apart, we were both breathless.

"Come on," Fred declared, grinning like a wild man as he tugged me up inside, "Dinner's getting cold, and we'll miss the sunset."

"Who's driving?" I questioned as Fred steered me down the hall.

"No one," he laughed, "Drives itself."

"Hmm," I replied, chewing on my bottom lip, "So George isn't around then?"

"Merlin, no," Fred answered, "He got a date with some Ravenclaw girl. They went to Hogsmeade."

"Hmm," I said again, slow and sultry, "So... we're all alone."

Fred beamed over his shoulder, finally pulling me into one of the compartments. "That's the genius of my masterplan," he declared, fitting my body snugly against his, "Just us."

We kissed again, for... quite awhile. And we both pulled away laughing. Fred nuzzled my throat, murmuring, "You're distracting."

"You're one to talk," I snickered, getting around to noticing the small, nicely set table, the wide open windows and the sun setting on the horizon.

And then I noticed where we were, specifically. "Is this..." I ventured quietly, kind of stunned and touched, "Is this the compartment we first met in?"

Looking exceedingly proud of himself, Fred brushed a few stray curls away from my eyes and responded, "Sure is. I thought it'd be nice for our first official coupley Valentine's."

"It's wonderful," I breathed, feeling kind of teary even as I pulled the strapping young man into another deep kiss. At that rate, we were never going to get to dinner.

"Glad you like it," Fred whispered against my lips, starry eyed as he ducked in for another lingering press of flesh. Our hands wandered, slow and sensual...

And then my stomach growled, quite loudly. And we pulled apart laughing. Fred pulled away to pull out a chair for me, and soon we were seated at the small table, side by side and facing toward the brilliant pink sunset. Fred put an arm around my shoulders and, with a flourish, revealed a spread of food that included cheeseburgers and chips and jalapeno-pineapple pizza and chocolate ice cream.

"Wow," I laughed, snuggling against his side and snagging a chip, "Some setup. Do we pig out now?"

"Whatever you'd like, m'lady," Fred replied with a brilliant grin, grabbing a burger and taking a big chomp.

We ate and talked and cuddled and watched the sun set through the window as the countryside flew by outside. When dinner was through, Fred flicked his wand and cleared away the table. Some soft music came on, and we slow danced there in the compartment, just holding each other close. It was relaxing. Perfect, I'd say.

I found myself letting my head fall to rest on Fred's shoulder, contentedly murmuring, "I love you."

"Love you, too, Stel," he replied, pressing a soft kiss to my temple, "Happy Valentine's."

And that's how it was for awhile. For a whole evening, life was good.

xxxxxxxxxx

Hope this chapter was to your liking. I'm started on the next and hope to finish it quite a bit quicker than this one. Reviews, as always, are encouraged and appreciated :)