Karma:
Lee and I had only been alone for a few minutes when a loud crack fills the living area, signaling Angelina's presence. We quickly break apart, but not before she can take in our tangled forms.
"Get a room, you two," she says with a laugh, dropping her Quidditch bag onto the floor. She looks around the flat quickly. "So…they're gone?"
"Yeah," I reply. "But Fred said to give you this." I pass her the watch that he had entrusted to me before he left. She gives it a small smile before snapping it onto her own wrist and taking a seat in the chair across from us.
"So, where's Alicia?" She inquires, once again scanning our apartment.
"Having a panic attack," Lee answers bluntly. Angelina's eyes widen and she looks around the room frantically for signs of a spasmodic Alicia.
"At Cullen's," I clarify. "Leanne's going to try and calm her down and then Apparate her back home."
"You just left her?" Angelina asks, shocked. Yeah, so I'm a horrible friend. Sue me.
"Yeah, well, they were kind of expecting a visitor."
She rolls her eyes and I know that she understands exactly who I'm talking about. "Isn't that like the fourth time that's happened, Katie?"
"Fifth," Lee corrects her.
"Excuse me?" Angelina asks, not sure what he's referring to.
"The fifth time," Lee clarifies. "If you count the time that he was actually there."
"This is getting ridiculous!" Angelina says. "You're going to have to talk to him sometime."
"No, I'm not," I say stubbornly.
"She never has to see him again if she doesn't want to," Lee agrees, putting a protective arm around my shoulder.
Angelina rolls her eyes and gets up to fix herself a snack. Our conversation slowly begins to move on to our days and Angelina informs me (once again) that the Harpies are obviously trying to kill her with all of the practices she has to suffer through.
Shortly after her arrival, our fireplace suddenly flares to life. Before the flames can subside even an inch, all of our wands are pointing towards it, Angelina looking far from intimidating with a cookie clutched between her teeth. Even though only a few people know the password to floo into our flat, you can't be too safe nowadays.
As the flames finally clear, the forms of Leanne and Alicia come into view and although this isn't the mode of transportation I was expecting them to use, I lower my wand. Lee, however, keeps his firmly in place.
"Who's your Maid of Honor?" He asks, obviously not realizing that Alicia is wobbling side to side next to Leanne. Ignoring Lee's extra measures of safety, Angelina rushes forward to help our friend.
"Katie Bell," Leanne answers confidently, letting Angelina take hold of Alicia. "Who can't ever make a dress fitting no matter how many times I reschedule."
"I'm sorry," I plead, rushing forward to help Angelina lower Alicia onto the nearest chair. "What happened?"
"I don't know!" Leanne exclaims, more frustrated than worried. "She's the Healer—ask her! I just gave her the dosage she said that she needed. I guess she lied a bit because before she'd even swallowed, she was like this."
Alicia, who seems to have passed out on the couch, says nothing in her own defense. Lee gets up and lifts her into his arms, taking her to her own room.
"I'm sorry, Katie," Leanne says, looking at the pair. "But I gave her the potion and it was obvious immediately that I wasn't going to be able to Apparate her out. I suck at side-a-long Apparation! But of course by that time, Oliver had showed up and was wondering why his former chaser was acting like a house elf on Butterbeer—"
"Leanne, I get it," I interrupt.
"Okay," she says, calming down just a bit. "I need to get back, then. And the dress fitting's Friday, got it?"
"Yeah, I got it," I sigh.
"Good. See you, Angelina. Let me know when Fred and George get back." We nod and she Disapparates.
"Alicia's totally out," Lee says from the doorway as soon as she's gone.
"It's probably better this way," Angelina says and I can't help but agree. "I don't think I could sit here watching her freak out for the next twelve hours."
"I'm not going to make it until tomorrow without sleeping," Lee mutters, and I turn to check the time.
"It's only like seven," I comment.
He laughs. "It feels like it's midnight."
"Do you have to go into work tomorrow?" Angelina asks him as she rummages through our cabinets, once again looking for something to eat. Coming up empty, she grabs our last bottle of Firewhiskey instead.
"Yeah, tomorrow afternoon." Lee has his own show on the Wizarding Wireless.
"Firewhiskey, anyone?" Angelina asks, pouring three glasses full. Lee and I both take ours gladly.
For the next few hours, the three of us drink and talk, trying to retain a semblance of hope while each taking turns checking on a still passed out Alicia. It was around midnight that Lee began yawning profusely and it became obvious that he was no longer paying attention to our conversation. I figured that he needed a little push into the right direction.
"Lee, go lay down," I say sternly. "Just knock all of my crap off of my bed and you can stay there."
"Are…you…sure?" He says through a yawn.
"Positive. Go," I say with a laugh. He nods and heads off towards my room, leaving Angelina and I alone. "You can go take a nap too," I tell her. "I'll wake you up in a few hours."
"No, I'm fine," she says, gently turning Fred's watch around on her wrist. "I wouldn't be able to sleep anyway."
"What's up with that watch?" I ask, unable to take my eyes off of it.
"I don't know," she says with a laugh. "It's just…Fred. Like a piece of him, I guess. He started giving it to me whenever he had to leave so that I would always have him with me." I can't help but smile. That's Fred for you.
"Hey, Ange? Can I talk to you about something?" I ask warily.
"Yeah, of course," she says, sliding over so that I can join her on the couch. We sit in silence for a minute as I try to come up with what to say.
"I got my new assignment today," I finally choke out.
"You're not interviewing me, are you?" She asks with a hopeful grin.
"Well…not you." She furrows her brows in confusion.
"You know how you said I'd have to see Oliver sometime…well…"
"Oh my God!" Angelina exclaims, finally understanding where exactly I'm going with this. "Oh my God—you aren't!"
"It's horrible!" I cry, burying my face in my hands.
"Oh my God!
"I can't do this. I mean, I really can't do this."
"Oh my God!"
"Is that all you can say?" I demand angrily.
"Are you serious?" She asks happily. Why the hell is she so happy about this?
"I can't do this!" I argue. "I haven't see or spoken to him in three years. Even that time I stumbled into Cullen's house with him there, he was in the bathroom. Three years!"
"You've been avoiding him for three years and you know it. This isn't really his fault." Good point. "I can't believe that you have to interview Oliver Wood! It's like fate."
"Or karma," I mutter.
"Come on, Katie. It won't be that bad. You're blowing this way out of proportion. And don't you think that it's better if you meet him now, in a professional situation, rather than…"
"Rather than what?" I ask when she stops talking.
"Nothing," she says, much too quickly.
"Rather than what?" I practically yell.
"You must have thought of this Katie…"
"Thought about what?"
"Well…Leanne and Cullen's wedding." Bloody hell.
"Oh my God!" I exclaim. "Oh my God! What was I doing—repressing that little detail? Why didn't I think of that?"
"Not to spoil the mood or anything, but I think that there's one more thing that you've been repressing." Warily, I turn my eyes towards her. "You told Leanne that you would help the Best Man work out the seating chart for both the wedding rehearsal and reception. And the Best Man is—"
"Oliver," I mutter. "Why the hell didn't Leanne stop me when I agreed to do that?" I ask, outraged.
"She probably thought that you were trying to be nice—one less thing for her to worry about, you know."
"Why would she think that?"
"Katie," Angelina says soothingly. "Calm down. This is not the end of the world."
"What am I supposed to do, Ange? I'm freaking out here!"
"There's nothing that you can do, honey. You're just going to have to learn how to deal."
"I don't want to see him," I sigh in defeat.
"What's the problem, Katie? Are you afraid that you've been repressing feelings all of these years?" Angelina jokes.
"No. And shut up."
The truth is that she's not that far off. Although I got over Oliver long ago, it's more of the fact that I don't know what would have happened between us if we had stayed together. If only I was a little older or him a little younger and we hadn't had to split up in the middle of my years at Hogwarts. I haven't even seen him since I was sixteen. Well, okay, I've seen him, but it's been either from afar as he plays Quidditch or from the cover of Witch Weekly.
We slowly drift off of the subject of Oliver and to the much safer one of Quidditch…my old fall back topic. As the hours continue onward, my mind starts to cloud and even our discussions on the better brand of Quaffles seem to remind me of the twins.
"I'm so tired," I mutter to Angelina who's resting her head on the back of the couch and staring up at the ceiling wildly. She doesn't respond so I get up and begin rummaging through our cupboards.
"What are looking for?" she groans.
"Caffeine," I answer.
"Well, we're out of tea as of yesterday. I think Alicia has some coffee somewhere though…"
"Coffee?" I sputter, not completely sure that I like the taste of the word in my mouth. But beggars can't be choosers. Desperate for caffeine, I fumble around until I find the ground coffee beans in the cupboard. "How the hell do you fix this stuff?" I ask Angelina, looking on the package for instructions. Angelina shrugs. Screw this. I pour some of the powder into a mug before pointing my wand at it. Boom—instant coffee. I take a deep sip and although the taste is rather foreign, I revel in the warmth of it.
"I think I like coffee," I comment and Angelina laughs at the look on my face. "Alicia actually does know how to pick her drinks." As if summoned by her name, Alicia comes walking into the room, clutching her head.
"Hangover?" Angelina asks with a laugh.
"I'm fine," Alicia groans and, unable to let it go, Angelina continues to taunt her. I take my coffee back to the couch and lay my head on the arm of the sofa. There's nothing wrong with resting my eyes…
I'm awoken (I don't know how much later) by a scream filling our living room. Heart racing, I pick myself up off of the couch and stare and the two boys in front of us. I recognize Fred and George immediately even though they are a bit battle worn but Angelina and Alicia are both standing still, hands over their mouths, not even moving to greet their boyfriends. Unsure of what exactly is going on, Lee runs into the room and he too freezes. Am I missing something?
I slowly walk around the couch to see the twins from the front. And that's when I realize that something isn't right. A few more steps and I figure out what it is. Both twins stand there. Both twins, but only three ears.
"I told you to come back in one piece," I scold, striding over to George and to my surprise, he lets out a deep throaty laugh. It's that laugh more than anything that convinces me the he's going to be fine.
Angelina obviously takes it as a sign because she immediately bounds across the room and into Fred's arms.
"Can you hear?" I ask George, looking at the gaping hole on the side of his head.
"It's a bit muffled, but yeah."
"That's awesome," I mutter before catching myself. "I mean, not awesome that it happened but…" I trail off as I notice that he's not paying attention to me at all. He only has eyes for Alicia. Still dazed, she slowly edges over and I back away from the pair to give them a little privacy.
"Alicia, I know it looks bad, but—" Before George can even finish his sentence, Alicia leans in a kisses him hard on the mouth. Seeing them like that brought a new emotion to the surface—anger. What kind of person would do this to him?
"What the hell happened?" I demand, more of Fred than George because I know that he's the most likely to answer me.
"Katie, you know we can't—" he starts.
"That's bullshit!" I argue. "We have a right to know. Do you honestly not trust us? We'd never do anything to put you in danger—we'd rather die."
"She's right, you know," Angelina mutters.
"We can't tell you. It puts too many people at risk by telling you. I'm not worried about myself, I'm worried about you guys. If they found out you know…" Fred says.
"We know this is about the Order of the Phoenix," Alicia blurts out and we all turn to stare at her. That was the one thing that we'd figured out for ourselves, I'm just surprised that she admitted it.
"How do you know about the Order—" George asks.
"We're not totally stupid," I mutter.
"Yeah," Angelina agrees. "You were both gone the entire summer before our seventh year—the same summer that the Order was rumored to have surfaced again. Plus, you two just radiate Order material. Need I remind you of your enthusiasm about Dumbledore's Army?"
"But that still doesn't tell us where you were tonight," Alicia adds. It's amazing how she can calm herself completely as soon as George enters a room. She's a totally different person than the scared girl she was last night.
Not really expecting them to answer, I'm surprised when I hear Fred heave forth a great sigh.
"Thirteen on us: Mad-Eye, Mundungus Fletcher (don't know if you know him), Hagrid, Lupin, Tonks—"
"She's Lupin's wife…and an Auror," George interrupts.
"—Kingsley Shacklebolt—yeah, George, another Auror—my dad, Bill, Fleur, Ron, Hermione, and me and George went to get Harry out of his Aunt and Uncle's."
"So it's true," Alicia interrupts. "Harry is the Chosen One?"
"Hermione and Ron are in the Order?" I ask exasperated. They're still in school!
"We don't know if Harry's the Chosen One or not…and Ron and Hermione are not in the Order," George answers both questions at once.
"Anyway," Fred clears his throat. Now that he's talking it seems almost impossible to shut him up. "We had this really good plan to get him out because Death Eaters were most likely watching the house. Six of us would take Polyjuice Potion so that we were identical to Harry. That way the Death Eaters watching would see seven Harry Potters and wouldn't know which one to follow."
"There weren't supposed to be any Death Eaters!" George continues the story. "We expected maybe one watching but as soon as we took off—we were flying out of there, by the way—we were immediately surrounded. The thirteen of us were the only ones who knew about the plan beforehand. Someone had to have leaked the information!"
"I was flying with Dad," Fred continues. "I lost track of you and Lupin real fast, George. It was complete chaos but Dad managed to lose them fairly quickly and we made it back to the Burrow relatively unharmed. By the time I got there, however, George here was muttering something about Saints on the couch—scared me half to death. I thought that they'd blown your brains out or something."
George chuckles and picks up his side of the story. "Lupin and I got bombarded right away. I tried to keep them off, but I couldn't cast the spells quick enough. And it's hard to aim from a moving broomstick—that's something that Harry should have taught us in DA. Anyway, the next thing I know, there's a piercing pain on the side of my head and then everything went black. Lupin had to hold me on the broom to get me home. He said it was Snape that did it."
"That filthy bastard," I mutter.
"At least it was only my ear," George replies and that is, at least, one thing to be thankful for.
"Is everyone else okay?" Angelina asks warily. Fred and George exchange quick glances and my heart speeds up.
"Moody didn't make it—he's dead," Fred announces to the crowd.
"Mad-Eye?" I ask, shocked. "No—he's the most powerful Auror…it would have been in the Daily Prophet."
"Katie, you know that paper better than all of us," Lee speaks for the first time. "You know what kind of lies they tell. If it doesn't benefit them in some way, they're not going to report it."
"But—"
"We're positive," George assures me. "Bill saw him fall."
Moody's death hits me hard and I'm not even sure why. I never even met him—not really. I only met the fake one during my fifth year, but just the fact that it could have been Fred or George in his place frightens me.
"All of this shit with the Daily Prophet is getting ridiculous!" Lee cries suddenly. "You can't even know for sure who's dead or missing anymore—they don't report it! We need somewhere that we can go for real news."
"Not if you don't want to die, you don't," I warn and he rolls his eyes. It's an idea that he's been toying with for a while…and I don't like it at all.
With Fred and George's story concluded, weariness sets in once again. Telling them that I'll talk to them later, I climb into bed and am asleep within seconds.
--
My eyes finally flutter open a few hours later and I slowly take in the time on the clock on my wall—nine at night. Great; now my sleeping pattern's all messed up. I sigh in defeat and head towards the living room hoping to talk more about the happenings of last night with Fred. The living room, however, is nearly empty. Its sole occupants are two notes floating just above my field of vision. I reach for the first one.
Katie,
Spending the night at the twins' flat. Sleep well.
Angelina and Alicia.
I roll my eyes and grab the second one.
Katie,
Gone to work. I'll be home around midnight if you need me.
Lee.
I sigh to myself and collapse onto the sofa, more than just a little bit aware of how alone I am. We have a television, but I have no clue where the remote is so I just sit there in silence, trying to think of something—anything—to entertain myself. Coming up blank, I turn on the radio next to me and switch it to Lee's show. Filled with a mixture of music and humor, it never fails to calm me down.
Lee's voice is soon drowned out, however, by the thoughts rushing around in my head. And although I should probably be more concerned with the fact that George nearly got decapitated last night, the only problem coming to mind is the fact that I have an article to write on Oliver Wood due in two weeks.
Reluctantly, I summon a quill and a piece of parchment and decide to write a letter of my own. Several drafts later, I emerge with a finished product.
Dear Mr. Oliver Wood,
My editor, Mr. Malcolm Forbes, has informed me that you have consented to give an interview with the Daily Prophet. I understand that your schedule is busy but I would greatly appreciate it if you could send me a list of dates suitable to you.
Sincerely,
Katie Bell
Rather impersonal, I know, but it's a step. And it's professional. I re-read the letter once more and when I'm sure that it is as straight forward as possible, I grab Angelina's owl Peaches out of her room. I tie the letter to his leg before I can change my mind and as soon as I open the window, he's gone.
Like me, Oliver lives in muggle London so it isn't long before Peaches returns with his reply. I take the letter slowly off of her leg but, unwilling to know what Oliver said just yet, I ignore the piece of parchment. Trying to take up as much time as possible, I place extra protective spells on the window. Finally, with nothing left to distract me, I turn to the note. I open it with shaking hands.
Dear Ms. Katie Bell,
The only day that I have free for a while is this Sunday. If that is not convenient to you, it's going to be a few weeks before I have another day off. Quidditch is taking up most of my time and the time that is not going to Quidditch is dedicated solely to helping my best friend prepare for his wedding in September. It's actually a very frustrating job considering that his fiancée's Maid of Honor seems unwilling to reply to my many letters asking for help. You wouldn't happen to have any advice on what to do in a situation like this, would you? If there's no problem then I will see you at my flat Sunday around seven o' clock. I assume you know where I live.
Sincerely,
Mr. Oliver Wood
I can't help but chuckle at the sarcasm in his letter. Same old Oliver. But what was he talking about not being able to get in touch with me? I haven't gotten any letters from him…Has he even tried to contact me? I guess I'll just have to wait until Sunday to figure it out.
--
A/N: Thanks so much for all of the reviews for the last chapter. Keep 'em coming, please :)
Next time on Love and War: A dress fitting, an awkward conversation with Fred, and Katie examines her relationship with Lee.
Review!