I'm super sorry for the long wait. Trust me, I didn't forget. I went home at the end of October and by the time I got back here, it was magically time for New Moon to premiere (if you don't like Twilight, don't worry, I'm a sane fan, and I don't care what you think). My Twilight and Harry Potter obsessions are both so overwhelming that I can't contain them in one body at the same time. So, quite simply, I had to forget about Harry Potter so I could be in a Twilight mood. But, the initial shock of the movie has blown over now, so I'm free to update much more often. Besides, I wanted to give you guys something worthy when I posted. And, I believe this is quite worthy, if I do say so myself. Enjoy!

CHAPTER 3 - CLOSE TO HOME

The next morning came all too quickly for Katie, as she lay awake in her bed, trying her best to ignore the sunlight that was threatening to burst through the curtains of her bed. Although she hated waking up early, Katie seemed to have an internal alarm clock; she woke up automatically nearly every day at 7:00 a.m., whether she had to or not. This little quirk, however, did not mean that she was any more of a morning person than say, Fred or George. She still felt tired, all the time. And she was still extremely grumpy when she woke up, no matter the day.

Realizing all too well that falling back asleep was a lost cause, Katie defeatedly pulled back the curtains of her four poster bed (which was even more comfortable than she had remembered) and trudged her way to the bathroom to get ready for the first day of classes. She dazedly undressed from her pajamas, bracing herself for the onslaught of water, when she noticed something that had more success in waking her than the cold morning water. Right in the middle of her stomach, a large, deep purple bruise had formed. Gaping down at the purple blotch, it became evident that it was the exact size of Oliver Wood's fist.

"The bastard," Katie growled before stepping into the shower.

Being completely aware of what had transpired the previous night, Katie marched all the way down to the Great Hall when she was ready, beating the majority of the school in her angry haste. Thankful that no acquaintances were around, she threw herself down on the bench at the end of the Gryffindor table, all alone. She dumped various breakfast foods onto her plate, not putting much interest as to what they were, and irately shoved the contents into her mouth, which was set in a grimace.

The sun rose higher and higher in the sky and the enchanted ceiling lightened in hue until the rest of the school finally filed in the Great Hall, traipsing to their respective tables. Much to Katie's dismay, the Weasley twins - of course - perched themselves on either side of her.

"Beautiful morning, isn't it, George?" Fred mused.

"Why yes, Fred," George responded, "I dare say you are right."

"Oi! Good morning, Katie! Didn't see you there!" Fred remarked as he regarded her with a false look of surprise. "Did you notice her, George?"

"Not one bit. Been too quiet to attract my attention," his twin replied. "What's got your wand in a knot this morning?"

"Why don't you ask our dear, old captain?" Katie snapped. The twins pleasant faces automatically fell, remembering the incident that had occurred.

"Or you could ask him yourself..." George murmured as he looked over Katie's shoulder to see the tired form of Oliver entering the hall. Katie immediately shot up from her place at the table, overcome with annoyance, and stormed up to Oliver, who seemed to not fully grasp the oncoming danger.

"You bloody, insolent, dense, blockhead!" Katie yelled, loud enough to catch the attention of a group of Ravenclaws passing by. Oliver's eyes widened in fright; he looked as though he was debating to run back out of the hall.

"Do you have any idea what you did?" Katie still accused.

"Um... I beg your pardon?" he lulled.

"I'm not going to show you now, but just so you know, there is a bruise the size of a bludger on my stomach," Katie said with glaring eyes.

"So? I'm sure everyone on the team has had plenty of those. It shows that you're dedicated. That you'll take one for the team."

"I'm not talking about Quidditch, you obsessed idiot!" Katie bellowed. "I'm talking about the bruise that is a result of the punch you threw at my stomach last night!"

"Oh... that."

"Yes, that."

"I'm so sorry. You know I didn't mean to. I just got disoriented. Did whatever I could to stop the fight. I was aiming for a Weasley."

"Well then it's no surprise you're a keeper instead of a chaser. You need to work on your aim." And with that, Katie about-faced and made her way back to her seat at the table between the twins. Oliver guiltily followed and sat down beside George.

Katie remained furious, always one to stand her ground, and talked to no one for the next half hour or so (not that anyone took the risk of initiating conversation). Alicia and Angelina joined the team for breakfast with less than fifteen minutes to spare and automatically sensed Katie's foul mood. The girls sat across from her and excitedly chattered about the upcoming classes, hoping that they would have Defense Against the Dark Arts the first day. Fred and George made smart remarks about the gushing girls every chance they could. Oliver just ate his food, his plate piled high with every breakfast meat imaginable (he hadn't given up on the protein diet). Once the majority of the students had finished their meals, owls swooped in from every corner of the room and glided towards the tables, dropping all sorts of parcels and papers. Katie received nothing, as did the twins and Angelina. Alicia, however, had been delivered the latest copy of Witch Weekly, while Oliver, on the other hand, had obtained some Quidditch magazine with the Montrose Magpies zooming in and out of view. Both busied themselves with their gifts. Katie and the others let their eyes roam around the hall.

"-STEALING THE CAR, I WOULDN'T HAVE BEEN SURPRISED IF THEY'D EXPELLED YOU, YOU WAIT TILLL I GET HOLD OF YOU, I DON'T SUPPOSE YOU STOPPED TO THINK WHAT YOUR FATHER AND I WENT THROUGH WHEN WE SAW IT WAS GONE -"

Katie's head jerked to her left, along with everyone else, and she saw poor Ron Weasley, sinking so low he was almost under the table, being shrieked at by a Howler.

"Brilliant!" Fred and George beamed at each other before turning their attention back to their younger brother.

"- LETTER FROM DUMBLEDORE LAST NIGHT, I THOUGHT YOUR FATHER WOULD DIE OF SHAME, WE DIDN'T BRING YOU UP TO BEHAVE LIKE THIS, YOU AND HARRY COULD HAVE DIED -"

"You guys are never going to let him live this down are you?" Angelina asked the twins.

"Of course we are!" Fred said innocently.

"We would never hurt our dear brother like that!" George explained with wide eyes.

" - ABSOLUTELY DISGUSTED - YOUR FATHER'S FACING AN INQUIRY AT WORK, IT'S ENTIRELY YOUR FAULT AND IF YOU PUT ANOTHER TOE OUT OF LINE WE'LL BRING YOU STRAIGHT BACK HOME."

Then the scarlet envelope burst into flames.

The silence was almost painful. After a few awkward minutes - probably the worst minutes of Ron Weasley's life - the morning chatter broke out again, introduced by Fred and George's howls of laughter.

"Greatest - moment - of - my life!"

"Couldn't have - said - it better - myself, George!"

They continued like this, guffawing with gusto, banging their fists on the table in hysterics, as Professor McGonagall came striding down the Gryffindor table, handing out class schedules.

"Mr. Weasley and Mr. Weasley," she instructed," please try to control yourselves in a more respectable fashion."

"Sorry, professor. We were just mourning Ron."

"Merlin knows he won't be around much longer," George remarked as he lowered his eyes morosely. McGonagall's lips formed a thin line.

"It would do you well to take this event more seriously. Have the two of you ever once imagined that perhaps you were the inspiration for his actions?" Fred and George pursed their lips in thought.

"Once." Fred raised his eyebrows.

"Or twice." George raised his.

"Oh, nevermind. Here are your schedules." She handed the twins their schedules, along with the rest of the Gryffindors, and made her way back up to the High Table.

"Yes!" Alicia squeaked.

"No!" The twins knew what this joyful exclamation meant.

"We have Defense Against the Dark Arts with Slytherin today. First class," Angelina said. The bell rang, emphasizing her statement.

"Best get a move on, you know Alicia's going to want a front row seat," Katie suggested, finally breaking her enraged silence.

"She speaks!" Fred exclaimed.

"Shut it," Katie ordered. Fred obeyed.

The bell signaling the start of classes rang and students jumped up from their seats and hurried towards the exit. As predicted, Alicia scurried away. Angelina trailed after her, carrying the books Alicia had left behind in her haste. The twins took their time, not bothering to care if they were late for their first class or not. Oliver, however, made his way over to Katie's side, smiled politely at her, and grabbed her books. She eyed the boy suspiciously, appreciating the gesture, but decided against it.

"I'm quite capable of carrying my own books, thanks," Katie said with an arched brow.

"If you insist," Oliver said.

Katie began heading towards the door to the entrance hall, when she noticed Oliver on her heels. He maneuvered his way in front of her, making a path through the fumbling Slytherins, Hufflepuffs, Ravenclaws, and fellow Gryffindors, which Katie had to admit she was rather grateful for. But she was surprised when Oliver, who had Potions for his first class, began following her up the marble staircase, instead of heading down the small staircase to the dungeons.

"Unless I'm illiterate, I'm pretty sure your schedule said you had Potions first," Katie asserted. She tried to move away from his side, but the throng of students scuttling up the staircase prevented her from doing so.

"I do," Oliver said, nodding, as he stared straight ahead.

"Then may I inquire as to why you are currently heading up to the first floor?"

"I just wanted to make sure you were on time. As captain, it's my duty to watch out for the well-being of my teammates." They neared the door to Katie's classroom. "I can't have you being late for class. Next thing you know, it'll be missing homework, skipping classes, failing exams, and then you're kicked off the team!" He paused, seeming to argue with himself, and then opened the door and beckoned Katie to enter.

"Or you're just trying to make up for punching me," Katie interjected.

"That too," Oliver admitted sheepishly.

"Well it's not going to work. I can't be won over with cheap gallant acts. You're going to have to try harder than that to earn my apology, Wood." Then she marched inside the classroom without looking back at Oliver's puzzled face.

The next hour was dreadful. Straight away, Katie knew Lockhart was a charlatan. All he seemed to babble on about was himself, and how many times he had won Witch Weekly's Most-Charming-Smile Award. Most of the girls fell under the spell of his eyes, smile, or hair, but Katie was not one of them. Looks had never mattered much to her, as cliché as it sounded, so it came down to personality. And from what she had deduced so far in the lesson, Katie thought Lockhart's personality was rotten.

Nothing of importance was learned, or even mentioned, in Defense Against the Dark Arts. Katie, along with Angelina and Alicia, had Divination as the second class of the day. Again, not much was actually discussed, apart from the usual bantering of Professor Trelawney. Fred and George had elected to drop the class this year, despite their love of pranking the professor; they had other cauldrons to bubble (or rather, they'd prefer to spend time pestering Filch).

Lunch and dinner came and went, and all the while, Oliver kept trying to prove himself to Katie that he was worth forgiveness. He held doors open for her, he offered to fill her plate with food, he even volunteered to carry her back up to the common room when she had suggested she was tired. But Katie was persistent, and did her best to ignore his chivalrous acts.

"Don't expect me to believe that you're like this all the time," she said a few days later, after the same routine of Oliver being overly nice had grown old.

"I'm not. Only on extra special occasions. And I think you're really blowing this out of proportion, you know," he replied after he had attempted to help her through the portrait hole.

"I'm stubborn."

"I know."

"You think you know everything."

"I'm a Quidditch captain. I should know everything about my team." He said it with reverence.

Katie sat herself down in an armchair by the fire. Oliver did the same. An awkward silence ensued.

"So when are you going to forgive me?" Oliver questioned.

Katie didn't answer. Instead, she stood up and crossed the room.

"Bell?"

Still no answer.

Resigned, Oliver stood up, walked over to Katie, and wrapped his arms around her.

Shocked, Katie yelled, " What the bloody hell do you think you're doing?"

"Hugging you," Oliver answered simply.

"Well, stop!" And she pushed him off. So hard, in fact, that he toppled over a bench into a nearby table. Judging by the sound, Katie could only assume that his fall had been pretty hard.

"You'll pay for that one, Bell," Oliver murmured ominously. He had his determined Quidditch face on now.

"Oh, really? How?"

"Practice. Tomorrow morning. Be down on the field at six. I'll leave it up to you to break the news to the rest of the team."

Katie groaned. Maybe it was about time to let go of the grudge she held against Oliver. Then again, Quidditch practice was inevitable with Oliver Wood as captain.

"SPINNET! JOHNSON! BELL! UP NOW!" Oliver's voice bellowed, hovering on his broom outside a window to the fourth year girls' dormitory.

Only Angelina made any attempt at moving. She slowly rose from her bed and slogged over to the window, which she cracked open, and faced her captain.

"Are you mad? There are other girls asleep in this dorm!" Angelina reprimanded him.

"Yes, and three of the girls in this dorm are on the Gryffindor Quidditch team. Be on the pitch in fifteen minutes! And remember, you can thank Bell if you're upset with me." Then he zoomed off in the direction of the boys' dormitory (Harry must have been his next victim), not the least bit phased by the death stares of his three chasers that followed him as he went.

After making sure the other girls in the dorm had not been disturbed, Angelina attempted to dress quickly. Though she moved groggily, she still was in her Quidditch robes before neither Alicia nor Katie had so much as pulled off the covers of their beds.

"You might as well get up. You know that if you're late, he'll only make practice longer," Angelina advised her teammates. The two others moaned and yawned and stretch before they finally got out of bed and readied themselves for what was sure to be a tiring practice.

"Thanks, Katie," Alicia mumbled sarcastically as the three girls headed down the stairs to the common room.

The sun had just begun to rise as they made their way down to the locker rooms. The sky was still a light purple with splotches of bright pink and gold near the horizon. A light mist hung over the Hogwarts grounds, causing Katie, Angelina, and Alicia to shiver. When they finally arrived in the locker rooms, they noticed everyone was present, except for Harry. Alicia plopped herself down next to the twins and Katie and Angelina sat across from them. Oliver stood before them all, looking remarkably awake and enthused considering the time of day. He stared impatiently at the door, willing Harry to materialize, when he finally did.

"There you are, Harry, what kept you?" Not even bothering to wait for an answer (not that Harry was awake enough to give one), Oliver continued, "Now, I wanted a quick talk with you all before we actually get onto the field, because I spent the summer devising a whole new training program, which I really think will make all the difference...."

For the next hour, Oliver went through three different diagrammed boards, scattered with lines, arrows, and crosses, that zoomed around magically at the touch of his wand. For Katie, the information went in one ear and out the other. The only reason she was even able to stay conscious was because of watching Fred's head slump onto Alicia's shoulder, over and over again, before he finally settled there and began to snore.

"So," Oliver spoke, everyone else jerked awake, "Is that clear? Any questions?"

"I've got a question, Oliver," said George. "Why couldn't you have told us all this yesterday when we were awake?"

Oliver glimpsed at Katie, then scowled back at George before peering around the room.

"Now, listen here, you lot. We should have won the Quidditch cup last year. We're easily the best team. But unfortunately - owing to circumstances beyond our control -" An awkward silence overcame them all as Oliver recalled their loss of the last match of the previous season due to Harry's absence. Katie remembered as well; Harry had been in the Hospital Wing, still unconscious from his encounter with You-Know-Who. Everyone waited, rather impatiently, as Oliver regained his composure.

"So this year, we train harder than ever before.... Okay, let's go and put our new theories into practice!" he yelled vehemently. He swept out of the locker rooms, his team still yawning and stretching as they followed behind him.

Too Katie's dismay, Oliver blocked every single one of her shots. Although this upset her, however, she did feel accomplished when one of her failed shots hit Oliver in the head. Of course, Oliver's lapse in concentration was only due to the camera flashes coming from a small boy in the stands, but this didn't affect Katie's spirits either. I hope he bruises, she thought maliciously. Oliver didn't take too nicely to either of these distractions and decided it was time to take action.

"What's going on?" Oliver asked as he flew over to Harry, the object of the small boy's attention. "Why's that first year taking pictures? I don't like it. He could be a Slytherin spy, trying to find out about our new training program."

"He's in Gryffindor," Harry replied rather hastily. Katie recognized the boy; she remembered him offering her a spot in the Unofficial Harry Potter Fan Club, which she had politely declined.

"And the Slytherins don't need a spy, Oliver," George added, joining in the conversation.

"What makes you say that?" Oliver asked.

"Because they're here in person," the redhead responded, pointing to the ground. Sure enough, the Slytherin Quidditch team was making their way onto the field, with their broomsticks in their hands.

"I don't believe it!" Oliver shouted. "I booked the field for today! We'll see about this!" He darted towards the ground and stumbled off his broom in anger. Harry, Fred, and George followed behind.

"Flint! This is our practice time! We got up specially! You can clear off now!"

The Slytherin Captain smirked viciously at Oliver as he said, "Plenty of room for all of us, Wood."

Hearing this, Katie flew to the ground, followed by Alicia and Angelina. They joined the rest of the team, Gryffindor face to face with Slytherin.

"But I booked the field!" Oliver raged. "I booked it!" Flint's sneer turned even more mocking.

"Ah, but I've got a specifically signed note here from Professor Snape. 'I, Professor S. Snape, give the Slytherin team permission to practice today on the Quidditch field owing to the need to train their new Seeker.'"

This caught Oliver by surprise. "You've got a new Seeker? Where?"

A comparatively small boy with blond hair and a pointed face made his way through the six older members of the Slytherin team.

"Aren't you Lucius Malfoy's son?" Fred asked with a look of dislike. Katie understood his disapproval; she had heard particularly nasty things about this kid.

"Funny you should mention Draco's father," Flint said with a broad smile. "Let me show you the generous gift he's made to the Slytherin team."

The seven boys - no girls were on the team - held out their broomsticks. Katie saw, with jealousy and awe, gold lettering that spelled out the words Nimbus Two Thousand and One.

"Very latest model," Flint continued superiorly. "Only came out last month." He had obviously hit a nerve with Oliver. Even Harry's broom couldn't compare.

Flint persevered. "I believe it outstrips the old Two Thousand series by a considerable amount. As for the old Cleansweeps" - he leered at the twins who both clutched Cleansweep Fives in their hands - "sweeps the board with them."

The Gryffindor team was speechless as a whole and Oliver's eyes were slightly bulging out of their sockets.

"Oh, look. A field invasion," Flint said, breaking the silence. Katie looked to her right and saw Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger heading toward the confrontation.

"What's happening?" Ron asked Harry. "Why aren't you playing? And what's he doing here?"

"I'm the new Slytherin Seeker, Weasley," Malfoy said smugly. "Everyone's just been admiring the brooms my father's bought our team."

Ron ogled at the broomstick in Malfoy's hand.

"Good, aren't they? But perhaps the Gryffindor team will be able to raise some gold and get new brooms, too. You could raffle off those Cleansweep Fives; I expect a museum would bid for them." The Slytherins howled with laughter as the Gryffindor's frowns deepened.

"At least no one on the Gryffindor team had to buy their way in," Hermione defended. "They got in on pure talent."

"No one asked your opinion, you filthy little Mudblood," Malfoy spat.

Katie froze. She felt like ice had flooded all of her veins.

All at once, Flint dived in front of Malfoy, Fred and George lunged at Flint, and Alicia shrieked, "How dare you!"

Katie thought for a moment, fumbling with her wand under her robes as she debated to take action, but Ron Weasley beat her to the punch.

A loud bang echoed across the grounds and a jet of green light shot out from the wrong end of Ron's wand. The spell hit him in the stomach and sent him backwards onto the grass.

Temporarily distracted, Katie awoke from her shocked stupor and stared at Ron who, just at that moment, belched up several slugs.

The Slytherins doubled over in laughter, some had tears in their eyes, while the Gryffindors gathered around Ron who continued to throw up slimy slugs.

"We'd better get him to Hagrid's, it's nearest," Harry said to Hermione. The two of them pulled Ron from the ground - no one else was willing to touch him.

"What happened, Harry? What happened? Is he ill? But you can cure him, can't you?" It was the small boy who had been taking pictures. Katie recognized his eager voice before she saw him. He flashed pictures left and right, trying his best to document the scene. Ron belched again and several more slugs dribbled down his chest.

"Oooh, can you hold him still, Harry?" the boy asked, fascinated.

"Get out of the way, Colin!" Harry shouted as he and Hermione did their best to maneuver with Ron's added weight. They dragged themselves clear of the audience and eventually made it out of the pitch.

The Slytherins were still cackling. Malfoy was on all fours, banging the ground with his fist. Oliver glanced at his team, defeatedly, and said, "Practice cancelled."

Alicia and Angelina hurried out of Oliver's hearing range and then excitedly cheered at being let out early. Fred and George high-fived each other, not caring if Oliver saw or not, and then ran after the girls to the locker rooms. Katie ran her fingers through her hair for a moment, erasing the traces of wind, and then started heading in the same direction, slowly.

Filthy little Mudblood, Malfoy echoed in her mind. Her eyes stung with tears and her fists clenched in resentment. She could feel her fingernails biting into her palm.

"I can't believe it," Oliver murmured, catching up to her. Katie kept her eyes straight ahead, ignoring her captain.

"Yeah, neither can I," Katie growled as tears started spilling over her lashes.

"I mean, I had it. I was promised the pitch today! I was so ready," Oliver complained.

"Yeah," Katie snarled, absolutely fuming.

"Wow, Bell. I didn't know you were quite so passionate," Oliver mused, less angry and desperate, as he glanced down at Katie's tear-stained face.

"Not everything is about Quidditch, you idiot," she shot back, peering up at him furiously. She quickened her pace. Oliver hurried to her side once more.

"What's wrong, Katie?" He sounded worried, but Katie couldn't be sure whether it was out of genuine concern or care of a teammates mental stability.

"Nothing."

"Even an idiot as big as me isn't fooled by that one," he persisted. "What's wrong?"

"It's none of your business."

"You're my business."

Katie ignored his comment and stomped on towards the locker rooms. This time, Oliver didn't try to catch up.

By the time Katie made it to her destination, the locker rooms were empty. The rest of the team, in their excitement, had changed out of their robes at lightening speed and had already run up to the castle, anxious for breakfast. Katie changed, taking her time, and then sat down on a bench and hugged her knees to her chest. With no one around, it was hard to tune out Malfoy's words. Each repetition stabbed her in the chest and forced more tears from her eyes. She decided, since she had the privacy, she might as well let the misery take her while there was no one to watch.

Yes, the words hadn't specifically been aimed at her, but they had hit as close to home as possible. No one knew Katie was a Muggleborn. She didn't feel the need to tell anyone. In her opinion, parentage did not make the wizard. Magic made the wizard. So she kept her Muggle parents a secret.

She cried softly, but heavily, as she was assaulted by the insult over and over again.

"Katie," a voice whispered from the entrance.

She looked up from her knees, her vision blurred by tears, and saw Oliver's form in the doorway. Katie's mind was so consumed in hurt that she didn't have it in her to tell him to leave. He walked over to her and placed himself down on the bench, and -unsure of himself- wrapped his arms around her. Not bothering to reject him again, she cried on Oliver's shoulder until the pain subsided.

"I'm okay now," Katie mumbled as she lifted her head and wiped her eyes.

"No, you're not. What's wrong?" Oliver questioned one more time. Mostly over the pain, Katie became annoyed again.

"Why should I tell you? It's not like you'd care anyways," Katie accused.

"Of course I care," he said comfortingly.

"Oh, really? Well, obviously you never cared enough to ask me about my parentage."

Oliver's mouth fell open, but then he snapped it shut once he gained his composure.

"Katie... I... I'm so sorry."

Katie gave up, tired of arguing. She got up and turned to her locker and began digging through its contents.

"It's fine. I wouldn't have told you the truth anyway."

"Why not?" Oliver watched her with hesitant but caring eyes. He wasn't sure how long it would be before she blew up at him again.

"I don't want anyone to know." She closed her locker and made her way back to Oliver, sat down, and handed him a photograph.

He held the picture in his hands. The woman and man in the photo didn't wave hello or even blink. They didn't move at all.

"These are your parents?"

"Yep. And they're one-hundred percent non-magical."

"I can see that," Oliver answered as he tipped the picture this way and that, willing its subjects to move.

"You won't tell anyone, will you?" Katie asked, gazing at Oliver with pleading eyes. She had never told anyone before, and she wasn't exactly best friends with Oliver Wood. What would stop him from telling his friends? She knew Flint would find out, especially if he could use it to his advantage.

"Of course not. That's a promise. Now, come on. They're going to stop serving breakfast soon." He got up from his place on the bench and began heading towards the exit when something occurred to Katie.

"Hey!" she called after him. "How come you were down here so long too?" He smiled and then looked embarrassed.

"Oh, um... I was having my own little episode, you could say. You know I don't handle defeat well."

"Yeah, I know."

"And, as you figured out, there's no better place to drown in your sorrow than in an empty locker room. Promise you won't tell anyone I'm a baby?" Oliver smiled sheepishly as he waited for Katie's answer.

"Promise," she declared. She rose from her seat and walked with Oliver back up to the castle.