It had been exactly four days since Oliver had attended George and Angelina's wedding. He was aware of this fact because it reminded him that it had been exactly three days since he had seen Katie.

Thinking back to past one-night stands, Oliver could not remember ever feeling anxious about hearing from them again. Actually, that was not exactly true. In every circumstance, he had been worried that he would hear from them again. With Katie, however, he grew more concerned by the day. This was not because he expected her to send him an owl, but rather because he had sent her one every day since their encounter, with no replies as of yet.

He was making a distinct effort not to seem like he was stalking her. His first owl, the day after they had woken up next to each other, stated merely that he had enjoyed their breakfast and hoped that they would do it again sometime.

The next day, hearing nothing, Oliver remembered again the worry that he had seen on the faces of George and Angelina. He decided to send Katie a second letter, letting her know that her friendship was important to him and he hoped she was doing well. He made sure to add what he hoped was a casual remark that if she ever needed anything, she should feel free to come to him.

His third owl, sent hurriedly before practice the present day, was a short note saying that he hoped to see her at a match soon, and it included season tickets to his matches.

Thankful that his long night of worrying was over and he now had Quidditch to take his mind off of the unexplained notion that it was somehow his responsibility to look after Katie now that they had reunited, Oliver threw himself into practice that day. In his element, perfectly executing every play, Oliver cleared his mind of strange, obsessive thoughts. He focused instead on flying, the thing that came more naturally to him than breathing.

When he touched down that afternoon, drenched in sweat, each of Oliver's teammates clapped him on the back. Armand nodded his approval, and Oliver thought he heard something in his captain's after-practice speech about Oliver's "model dedication", but Oliver forced himself to stay focused, not wanting his thoughts to return to the strange and confusing place they had been just a few hours before.

As the team trudged out of the locker room, Oliver saw none other than Charlie Weasley.

"Charlie!" Oliver called to Charlie, who was still approaching from across the field. His surprise at seeing Charlie here was second only to his pleasure. "I wasn't expecting to see you!" he added once Charlie was standing before him.

"I saw you practicing out there," Charlie said. "I know some people," he added in response to Oliver's quizzical look. "Anyway, I thought you could use a drink."

Oliver hesitated momentarily, remembering that the last time he had seen Charlie, his favorite Weasley had done everything in his power to cause Oliver to become more intoxicated than he could remember being in a very long time.

Charlie's good nature made it hard to stay angry at him, however, and Oliver shrugged it off. "Yeah, I could use a drink."

"Great," Charlie grinned. "We're going to The Three Broomsticks."

"But that's..." Oliver began, but quickly he realized that Charlie wasn't concerned with how far The Three Broomsticks was, nor with how many pubs were closer. "Charlie," he said in a warning tone.

"It'll be fun!" Charlie boomed, clapping Oliver on the back. "Just like old times at school, watching Madame Rosmerta waiting on tables and wishing we were old enough for her to notice us. Only now we are." At that, he gave Oliver a lewd wink, and they were off.

A few moments and a quick apparation later, they were standing in Hogsmeade, just outside the door to The Three Broomsticks, the scene of many of their respective Hogwarts shenanigans. It was raining here, and they hurried inside.

Seating themselves at the bar, Oliver and Charlie started off strong with several shots of firewhiskey before Charlie's less-than-subtle hinting combined with receding inhibitions prompted Oliver to finally ask the question he wanted to ask.

"Is Katie here?" he asked Madame Rosmerta as she was pouring Charlie another shot. He was already several ahead of Oliver, but he showed no signs of slowing down.

Madame Rosmerta shrugged, turning around to put the bottle away, knowing from experience that it needed to be out of Charlie's reach. "She doesn't work here anymore," she said casually.

Charlie appeared to sober slightly, his eyes darting towards Oliver.

"What? Since when?" Oliver asked, rather more bluntly than he had intended.

Madame Rosmerta narrowed her eyes. "Not that it's any of your business," she said sharply, but she hasn't shown up for work in three days. I sent an owl with her mail to her boyfriend's flat, and I let her know she needn't come back."

Oliver's jaw fell open, giving Charlie a moment to speak.

"Do you know the bloke? What's his name?" he asked. Charlie's normally cheerful demeanor had changed quickly, and had Oliver been less preoccupied, he might have been touched by how deeply Charlie, like all the members of the Weasley family, seemed to care for Katie.

Madame Rosmerta crossed her arms. "I may have fired the girl, but I'm not about to help a couple of drunk blokes stalk her," she huffed.

Charlie stood up angrily, and Oliver, sensing a bad outcome if the situation escalated, attempted to reword the inquiry.

"We're just worried about her," he explained, his eyes softening. Madame Rosmerta looked unconvinced. "She's a good friend, and we didn't know she was seeing anyone. We want to make sure she isn't in trouble."

Madame Rosmerta's eyes moved towards the floor briefly, betraying her thoughts. She, too, had given more than a passing thought to Katie's safety
.

"His name is Roger," she said after a pause. "That's all I know about him."

"Thank you," Oliver said kindly.

"Make sure she's alright," Rosmerta concluded, attempting to keep the worry out of her voice.

Oliver nodded. "We will."

Oliver and Charlie decided to regroup back at the Burrow. Not wanting to worry Molly, however, who was thoroughly enjoying a day of babysitting her first grandchild, Victoire, they took their discussion outside.

"Maybe we're overthinking this," Oliver said hesitantly, as his increasing stress caused him to sober up more quickly than usual.

"She hasn't shown up for work in three days, Oliver," Charlie growled. "She missed dinner last night when she said she'd be there weeks ago. And now apparently she's hanging around Roger again!"

"Who is Roger?" Oliver asked, suddenly feeling very out of touch.

"You know him," Charlie insisted. "Roger Davies. He went to Hogwarts same time as you, same year as the twins."

As soon as Oliver heard his last name, he felt silly for not realizing sooner. Roger played Quidditch as well, and though he was only a reserve player, much to Oliver's delight, as their rivalry in school had been legendary, Oliver had been forced to suffer his company at more than one social event.

Oliver stopped dead in his tracks. "That prick?" he deadpanned. "Didn't he break up with Katie in her sixth year? What would she be doing with him?"

"There's a little more to that story," Charlie admitted. "After she finished school, Katie met back up with him a few times, and they started going out. But he was bad for her. They fought. She was constantly unhappy. George and Angelina did everything they could to convince her to leave him. A few times she packed up her stuff and stayed with Alicia, but it never took. I had to..." Charlie stopped abruptly. "Anyway, we got her away from him, but maybe-"

"Wait," Oliver interrupted. "You had to...what?"

"It isn't important," Charlie replied.

"It could be," Oliver said. "If she's hanging around with him again."

Charlie laughed. "I don't think that it's the solution you want."

"Why not?" Oliver pushed.

Charlie sighed heavily. "Because to get her away from him I had to confuse her even more. I don't know if I regret what I did, but I wish I could have thought of something better. It wasn't right."

"Charlie, what the hell did you do?" Oliver nearly yelled, his curiosity driving him mad.

"One night, when she was at Alicia's, I went over to talk to her. It was my "turn". I told her she deserved better, which I knew wouldn't work, because of course that's what everyone else had told her. Well anyway, she said that she didn't, and I insisted that he did. And then I...well, let's just say that I showed her that more than one person wanted her."

Oliver didn't know why, but he felt as though someone had punched him in the gut. "You...?" he began, but he couldn't finish. Charlie's message had been received, loud and clear.

"I know, you think I'm a horrible person," Charlie sighed again. "But you didn't see her. You didn't see how bad it was. He had this hold on her, and she couldn't break free. It wasn't healthy. It wasn't safe. She wasn't eating, she was drinking every day. I couldn't watch it anymore."

Oliver stood, dumbfounded, and tried to decide what to do with this information. Anger didn't seem like the appropriate emotion, but neither did anything else. He settled to try for a loose understanding of why Charlie did what he had done, and decided that even doing something that might be wrong was better than doing nothing at all.

So he told Charlie that. Charlie smiled weakly.

"So should we do something that might be wrong and barge into that prick's flat?" Charlie asked, sarcastically but at the same time completely willing to follow through.

"Absolutely."

And so a short while later, they found themselves standing on a doorstep that was unfamiliar to Oliver, but simply standing at this door seemed to make Charlie angry. Oliver knocked before Charlie had a chance to blast down the door.

The door opened a short moment later, and Oliver and Charlie were both faced with one of their least favorite people.

"Well, well, well," Roger said, leaning against his door frame. "She sent you to pick up her stuff again? And Oliver too, eh? Was it both of you at once or one at a time?"

Charlie lunged forward, but Oliver grabbed him. Though Charlie was significantly larger than Oliver, the feeling of being held back appeared to be enough to sedate him momentarily, and he settled for hulking over Roger, seething.

Oliver did his best to control his contempt. "Where's Katie?" he demanded.

"That's the million dollar question, isn't it?" he laughed, mockingly.

"Tell us where she is," Charlie barked at him.

Roger rolled his eyes. "Down boy," he scoffed. "She isn't here. She said she was going to some wedding a few days ago, and then she never came back." He shrugged, either acting as though this fact meant nothing to him or truly not caring. Either way, Oliver was growing angrier by the moment.

"What was she doing here?" he asked.

"She was staying here," Roger said in a tone that suggested he knew exactly what Oliver was afraid to hear. "Don't worry, we weren't dating," he paused, and then with a grin, finished, "just shagging. Anyway, she must have been by to pick up her mail, but I haven't seen her."

Oliver grappled with his conscience for a split-second longer, but he knew that punching Roger Davies, however satisfying it might be, wasn't going to help him find his friend. He grabbed Charlie's clenched arm and dragged him away.

As they left, Roger called after them. "Tell that bitch to come get her stuff!"

As much as Oliver would have liked to have smashed Roger's head in, the sound of the rock Charlie threw through the window was at least somewhat satisfying, as was the string of curses that Roger hurled after them as they made their escape.

AN: Okay, so I know this chapter is super dramatic, but you guys wanted more, and if this is going to be more than a one-shot, it can't always be happy endings. Don't worry, though, it will get better! In the meantime, the big question: Where is Katie?

Thank you all so much for your reviews! They really, really made my day each time I opened my email and found one. They really inspire me to write, and to be honest, I had pretty much decided not to pursue this story until they started coming. They really mean a lot to me!