Cormac was a pain even before they left for the Burrow. For the briefest of moments as he stood on her doorstep, Katie found herself admiring his looks. He had always been attractive, but the more intensive training of the British and Irish Quidditch League had turned the boyish charm of a confident teenager into sheer, rugged masculinity. Even while standing still, his muscles rippled under the thin fabric of his summer dress robes. His jaw was square, his eyes sparkling blue, and his tan even. His smile was also dropping off of his face.
"Is that what you're wearing?" he asked, looking her over from the pointy toes of her shoes to her uncharacteristically done hair.
She laughed, unsure if he was being serious or not. It was a good dress. It was very cute. She had borrowed it from Alicia's closet – and by borrowed, she meant she had grabbed it while Alicia was busy doing herself up for the wedding earlier in the day. As soon as the blonde left to help Angelina get ready, Katie squeezed herself into the black number. Were it not for the cutouts in the front and the hem just grazing her mid-thigh, it almost would have been appropriate for a funeral. This was not unintentional.
The irony appeared to be lost on Cormac.
Brow furrowed, he said, "You look a bit like a slag."
"And you look like a right tosspot," she answered, not entirely in control of what was coming out of her mouth, "but I'm still taking you, aren't I?"
"Fair," he said with a shrug. "But I don't want anyone looking at my date's baps."
Katie snorted. "That's just for you to do, then?"
A roguish grin spread across Cormac's face. "Yes. And I would be happy to start here and now if you're alright with being a bit late."
"Shut up."
"All I'm saying is, I expect some sort of reward in exchange for rearranging my schedule for an old school friend in need."
Katie shut her eyes tight, doing her best to block out the dashing boy before her. Going by herself would almost be worth it if it meant she didn't have to hear another word from Cormac McLaggen. Almost. As it was, she settled on saying, "We weren't ever friends, and we'll see how I'm feeling after a drink or seventeen."
Offense looked foreign on Cormac's face, but he feigned it anyway. "We were teammates seventh year. We practiced together. I saw your arse once in the locker room. Great arse, by the way. Half of the reason I said yes to this."
Against what every fiber in her body was screaming at her, she grabbed Cormac's hand. It was warm and rough to the touch, with long fingers and a wide, calloused palm. Before he could make a smart remark, they disappeared into the crushing realm between one place and another.
The smells of the Burrow washed over her. Freshly cut grass, earth, chimney smoke, and baking bread, no matter what the time of day. Cormac lost balance on arrival and pulled her to the ground. They tumbled, a mess of arms and legs and at least one wand poking into Katie's back, halfway down a knoll before hitting a pair of legs. The legs hardly moved.
Oliver Wood peered down at them. "Alright?" he asked.
A skinny man with a shock of red hair and pinstriped dress robes sidled up next to Oliver. Katie groaned and buried her face in Cormac's chest. Of all the Weasleys to witness the moment, of course it was Percy.
To his eternal credit, Percy managed not to make a snide comment about her choice of date, or her current position on the ground. All he said was, "The ceremony's starting soon. You two should consider finding a seat."
"Right-o," said Katie. With some difficulty, she untangled herself from Cormac and pulled herself to her feet. When she finally reoriented herself, her dress was hiked up almost to her hips. Oliver and Percy politely averted their gazes. Cormac stared directly at her arse. She tugged the dress back into place. "We'll just go do that."
In an act of outward affection that Katie had never expected, Cormac entwined his fingers with hers. It made sense when, a few seconds later, she saw Ron and Hermione making their way under the flower-laced archway leading to the backyard. Some things didn't change, it looked like. Still, it had been so long since Katie had had romantic physical contact with someone that she didn't pull away.
They made their way into the tent in the backyard. The scene before them was gorgeous. Nothing like Bill and Fleur's wedding, though, of course. With all of the twins' joking protests at the fanfare and decadence of the occasion, it was no wonder that George had decided to do something simpler. The bouquets decorating the tightly packed – though few – tables were made of dandelions, the yellow flowers and puffs of white matching the colour scheme no doubt chosen by Angelina for its tendency to flatter her skin. Fairy lights illuminated the tent as dusk fell over them.
"Katie!" Alicia shouted over the hustle and bustle of the gathering crowd. She half-ran the wrong way down the aisle, her tall heels impeding her progress. A brilliant smile left her even prettier than usual. Just in case she hadn't heard the first time, she repeated, "Katie!"
"Alicia!" Katie answered, with far less enthusiasm. Cormac had graduated from hand-holding to wrapping an arm around her waist. She wanted to squirm away, but allowed it for the moment. Roger Davies stared at them, great amusement clear on his face.
"We're sitting together! Not for the ceremony, obviously," she corrected herself, "but for the reception. We'll be upfront for the thing itself. But after! We're at table one with the rest of the wedding party." She flapped a hand at the table in question, and for the first time, Katie realized that everyone would be looking at her throughout the entirety of the wedding. Were it not for Cormac's strong arm around her, she might have fainted. "So us, Angelina – she's with Molly and her mum and dad now – and George, Lee and Meg, Oliver—"
Katie cut her off. "I know who's in the wedding party."
Slightly deflated, Alicia went on, "Cormac, you'll be sitting with Roger and Dean until the reception."
As though he had just gotten permission, Cormac left Katie's side and headed for the one-time Ravenclaw Quidditch captain. Roger's amusement immediately turned to barely-disguised dread.
"How do I look?" Katie asked Alicia in a low voice. As much as she didn't want anyone to know how self-conscious she had begun to feel, she also felt it necessary to be as attractive as possible throughout the night.
"Well my dress looks great," said Alicia, her eyes twinkling. "As do you, obviously. I'm surprised Cormac hasn't jumped you yet, with his level of self-control."
"Shut up," Katie began to say. The words died in her throat.
George, more handsome than ever in his soft blue robes, had appeared in the tent. Lee was by his side, but he might as well not have been there for all the attention Katie was paying him. Light seemed to radiate from the redhead before her. All of her secret dreams of his and her wedding day (never spoken to anyone, lest she be made fun of for her uncharacteristic romanticism) rushed back to her. She would have made him wear blue as well; it brought out his eyes. As he stationed himself at the head of the aisle, she stopped Stephen Cornfoot in his tracks and took his glass of champagne from him. Something about the look in her eyes must have startled him more than the theft, as he took it in stride and returned to Luna a few feet away. She drank it in one gulp.
"Are you going to be okay?" Alicia whispered. Her eyes were wide, eyebrows raised yet again. She had clutched onto Katie's hand. The gesture provided far more comfort than Cormac's attempt at a public display of affection had. "Do you need to leave?"
"I'll be fine," Katie said weakly. She couldn't look away from George, who appeared to be avoiding eye contact with her as he spoke animatedly with Bill. "I'll be—I'm a bridesmaid, after all. I can't… I'll be fine."
Doubt clear on her face, Alicia answered, "If you're sure."
Moving as if she was in a trance, Katie took her place as the second in line on the bride's side. She felt as though she was going to vomit.
The ceremony passed by in a blur. Maybe it was the three glasses of champagne Alicia had covertly poured her before the bride walked down the aisle, maybe it was the emotional pain of seeing her Hogwarts sweetheart marry her best friend, but Katie spent more time admiring the fairy lights than watching Angelina and George. When the groom kissed the bride, Alicia reached behind her and squeezed her hand again. Cormac, seated as he was amongst less important friends and family members, remained oblivious. His clapping may have been the loudest in the tent.
As soon as it was socially acceptable to do so, Katie grabbed another pitifully small flute of champagne off of table one and headed for the house. Rather than go inside to the hustle and bustle of Molly putting the final touches on dinner, she swerved left and waded into the rose bushes. With very little grace, she planted herself behind a particularly high shrub and finished the champagne in a swig and a half.
"Shit," she whispered to herself.
"Fuck!" came an answer from a few feet to her right. A tall, heavily-muscled form lurched out from behind a tree and stumbled to a halt in front of her. Recognition flashed across his freckled face. "Katie Bell," he said, clutching his chest and panting with leftover adrenaline. "You scared the piss out of me."
"Charlie?"
"So you haven't forgotten me," he said with a crooked smile.
"What are you doing here?" she asked, whispering for no reason at all. There wasn't a soul within earshot. Still, something about the situation felt as though it called for secrecy.
"Well." He rubbed the back of his sunburnt neck and flashed another smile. "My brother's getting married."
"Ha," Katie said. Even after witnessing the act in question, the word still stung a little. "What are you doing here, specifically? In the garden."
He alighted beside her behind the shrub. This close, she could smell his cologne: musky and earthy, mixed with a not-unpleasant smell of sweat. "I didn't bring anyone," he said.
Mentally, Katie punched herself in the face. It had never occurred to her to go with another Weasley to the wedding. She wasn't sure if it would have softened the blow or made George even angrier, but it certainly would have been more pleasant than bringing Cormac. Although, to be fair to herself, she hadn't spoken to Charlie since she was a teenager. And he was certainly not bad looking.
Unaware of her mental monologue, Charlie went on, "I'm not a huge fan of sitting by myself at family gatherings. I don't mind being by myself, it's just… the odd one out always gets looked at. I don't love being looked at. The real question is: what are you doing here? In the garden, specifically."
"The long-term ex-girlfriend always gets looked at." Katie sighed and turned her head up to look at the sky. The stars, brilliant and sparkling and entirely appropriate for a happy wedding, seemed to mock her predicament. "Especially when she's a bridesmaid."
"Oh," said Charlie. "Yeah."
They sat in silence. Charlie took a large sip of his drink, what looked like a rum and cola. Katie attempted to lean her head against the shrub, then, when that failed, rested her chin on her chest. The sounds of laughter and conversation drifted over the garden from the packed tent.
Finally, Katie said, "You could have brought someone. You don't have to be ashamed. Your family is progressive about that sort of thing, as far as I can tell."
From the corner of her eye, she could see him squinting at her. "What sort of thing?"
"You know," she said, "the whole men thing."
"The men thing?"
Katie cocked her head and looked him in the eye. They were the same colour as George's. "You fancying men?"
In a reaction that Katie never would have expected, Charlie began to laugh.
"What?" she asked.
He held up one finger, laughing too hard to get words out.
"What?" she asked again, more urgently this time.
Eventually, he managed to squeeze out, "I don't."
A hot flush crept into Katie's cheeks. "I… I didn't—I never would have," she stammered. "I just always thought that that was why you never, you know, brought girls round to meet your parents."
"I like women," he said, his laughter dying down into a large grin. It was lopsided, like his brother's. "I just don't have time for one. Dragons are a bit demanding, as you would imagine. And Romanian women are a lot to handle. Very hairy, as well."
"I'm so sorry. I'm an idiot," Katie said, looking at the stars again. She was afraid that if she met Charlie's gaze, her blush would get even worse.
"You're not the first one to think it," Charlie said with a shrug. "You are one of the first ones to say it out loud, though. Which I appreciate. Nothing worse than people gossiping about you and not having the courtesy to include you in it."
"Sorry," she said again. His smile was infectious, and she found herself smirking against her own will.
"Don't worry about it," he said, and nudged her shoulder with his. "To make it up to me, however, I propose that we get drunk enough not to care about the people looking at us. Especially not Great Aunt Muriel."
"Agreed."
