With her job, a routine developed in Katie's life over the course of the next two weeks. She took to visiting Oliver daily, finding time either during lunch or after work each day to stop by St. Mungo's at least for fifteen minutes. More often than not, he was exhausted but grateful for her visits, and oddly enough, she found him to be an excellent listener. Never one for lying around all day, he listened raptly to stories about her day, about Angelina's railings against her auror trainers, about Leanne and Amit's work and a new band they both loved, and occasionally even about Alicia's tales of Quidditch practice, though she was careful in rationing these anecdotes for when he was in a good mood, not when he was moody and unpredictable. She also treaded cautiously in discussing the particulars of her work, not only to preserve confidentiality but also to ensure that he didn't have to know more about his attackers than he wanted. She didn't mind having a friend who wanted to discuss the lighter things in life. As much as she loved Angelina and Alicia, the two of them were both dealing with their own issues. Alicia had still yet to tell anyone besides Katie about Kira, and Angelina, along with Lee, still monitored George's whereabouts as much as possible. Even when she knew George was safe, the continuous stress wore at her nerves and contributed as much as her training to the growing dark circles beneath her eyes.
Leanne still maintained her chipper personality, and she and Katie (and even Amit once) met several times for dinner or drinks. It was a welcome distraction from her investigation into the Five, as she'd begun referring to them. Amit was reticent to talk further with Katie on certain points regarding, and he tried to maintain a certain level of cheer in the conversation. She appreciated the effort, even as he frustrated her with his refusal to answer questions about his time in Russia, but then he offered to connect her with another friend of his, this one working in Romania, and she couldn't feel any resentment toward him, not when he was quickly becoming a friend as well as her most useful source of informants to date.
A letter from Sean on Thursday disrupted the routine. She'd been sorting through letters from various foreign ministry officials—most polite, formulaic rejections of her request for records on the Five—when a small, boreal owl swooped into her office. His handwriting was small, neat and elegant, nothing like his brother's rather haphazard scrawl.
Dear Katie,
I hope you've had time to consider the offer of trainee Healer. I understand you've settled into your job with Lee and I have no idea how permanent the position is, but the offer still stands. I return to Romania by the end of the month, and ideally I would have your answer by Monday so that I have adequate time to make the appropriate arrangements. I understand that it is a large decision to make and that you were not necessarily anticipating a career as a Healer, but from what I've observed of you in St. Mungo's, you certainly have the aptitude. The only question is whether or not you would like to accept the offer.
If you have any questions, please feel free to owl me at any time. I would love to continue working with you in the future, but if you wish to pursue journalism or any other career path, I will simply wish you the best of luck.
Best regards,
Sean
Shit. She had three days to decide what to do. She needed to talk to someone about this. Sure, she'd been enjoying her job, but as Sean had mentioned, there was no real permanence in it, at least not yet. With that in mind, she made a midmorning trip to Lee's office. She knocked firmly on the door until she heard Lee shout, "Come in!"
When she walked into his office, a smile graced his features, a welcome sight. Angelina wasn't the only one still struggling to protect George.
"Do you have a minute? I don't want to disturb you," she added hastily.
"Certainly. Is this work or personal?" he asked her.
"Both, sort of," she confessed. "I need to ask you a few questions, and I want you to keep in mind that nothing has actually been decided yet."
He raised his eyebrows. "Well, don't keep the suspense up for long. I'm not sure I can bear it."
She ignored his gentle ribbing. "I've been offered a spot as a trainee Healer in Romania, and I'm not sure if I should take it or not. I guess I was hoping you could provide some clarification as to what you're thinking about me and my position on the radio at the moment."
Lee leaned back in his chair. "Well, that's kind of up to you. You've been doing good work so far on investigating the attack on Oliver, but if you're thinking of something more permanent, I'd have to assign you smaller pieces and day to day activities. You could help out Risa or me with some of the other logistical things related to the program."
"Is there an official role? I don't want to just depend on our friendship for a job. I want to make sure I'm not just taking up space."
"You're definitely not," he reassured her. "As for an official role, well, the program is still developing, so I could probably just develop something for you. That being said, I do need to take into account the needs of the office first, so you'd have to devote a significant portion of your time to things other than the long term projects. I already have Risa working full time on research, and she's got years of this sort of work under her belt. I could hardly have her coordinating guest celebrity appearances on my show."
"Of course not," Katie said. "She's amazing, you know. I have no idea how you got her to work for you. I mean, no offense, but she's got twenty years of experience on you."
Lee grinned. "She came to me, actually. She heard Potterwatch early on last year and decided to track me down. It was actually a little terrifying, the way she tracked me down, went through every layer of security I had. Fortunately, she wasn't a Death Eater, just someone who wanted to help. After Voldemort died, she chose to stick with me. I'm eternally grateful, even if I don't fully understand the decision."
Katie nodded. "So if I want to stay, become a real member of the team, I have to start moving beyond this investigation, beyond this project."
"You do. I'm fine to let you keep this up for a couple more months, but eventually my bosses will review my employees and they'll want to know why I've had one person only working on one specific project when everyone else works on several."
Katie took a second to process the information. It was an entirely reasonable proposal—she had initially asked to help Lee in whatever way she could—but it still didn't provide the clarity she sought. Perhaps she needed an outside source of advice, someone unbiased to talk things through. She thanked Lee and was about to head out the door when he called out, "Katie, could you do me a favor?"
"Sure," she responded.
"Could you drop by my flat? George spent the night there, and Charlie was staying as long as he could but he told me he needed to be gone by noon. I can't be back until one, and I think it would be good for someone to be there."
Her heart sank. "What happened?"
"He just had a rough night. Nothing specific, the usual really. I found him at a muggle pub, already smashed and spouting the usual crap. No worse than Saturday, but not great."
"I'll be there," she said sympathetically. "Besides, I actually need to return something to Charlie."
After a quick trip to her flat to retrieve the book, she flooed over to Lee's home. The whole flat was quiet, and the ticking clock provided the only noise her ears detected. Lee cast excellent silencing charms on the walls, preventing any outside noise from entering the room. When she walked into the living room, she found Charlie draped over the couch, eyes closed and body spread haphazardly across the cushions. It was an almost comical sight.
She cleared her throat. "Charlie, you awake?"
He bolted upright, eyes wide and alert within milliseconds of regaining consciousness. "Katie?" he exclaimed in surprise.
"I'm here to relieve you of George-watching duty until Lee can be here." She paused, then added as an afterthought, "I'm also here to return your book. Sorry about that." She held out Discovery of Dragons a little sheepishly.
"I was wondering where that went off to," he said with a bemused expression, taking the book. "I couldn't think of who would have taken it."
"If it's any consolation, I quite enjoyed it. I'm muggleborn so I heard many of these stories as a kid, but really only the Western ones. I never really knew anything about dragons in Chinese folklore, for example. It's strange how their perception of the role of dragons is so different from English conceptions. I mean, I never took Muggle Studies because I'm muggleborn, but it was fascinating to examine how certain aspects of dragons were accurately portrayed throughout history while others were not. I'd never thought of examining how muggles perceive magic."
A broad grin stretched across Charlie's face. "I'm glad you liked it. I agree—it's a captivating topic—but some people find it boring. I mean, people ask, 'why study muggle perceptions of dragons when there are so many inaccuracies?' I think it's an important look at how magic bleeds through into the muggle world."
"Not so much anymore, though," she said.
"True, and that's for the best I'd say. Can you imagine trying to integrate dragons into the muggle world? It would be terrifying, dangerous, stupid. I can't believe there are some people who actually support the idea of muggles knowing about magic. People would want to find dangerous creatures like dragons, and then they'd be killed."
"I hadn't ever thought about it that way before," mused Katie.
"I wrote a whole article on the subject for Vrajitoreasca Zilnică, the, uh Wizarding Daily in Romania. It's like the Prophet. If you ever want to read more, I'd be happy to give you a copy of the English version."
"Maybe. I'd definitely want a balanced perspective on the subject matter, but—
She froze abruptly, her brain catching up to her mouth. Charlie looked at her expectantly.
"But what?" he prompted.
She spoke slowly, carefully. "You said you wrote an article that was expressly anti-integration in the Romanian equivalent of The Daily Prophet?"
He shrugged. "Yes. I don't normally write articles, but I and the rest of the people on the reservation wanted to respond to some troubling sentiment that's been in the news lately, people not thinking through the full consequences of integrating magic into muggle society. I volunteered to write it, and my friend Ileana knew someone who could get it published."
She was trying to remain calm, to keep her voice steady as she spoke her next words. "Charlie, I don't mean to pry, but how many people know about your relationship with Sean? I promise you, there's a reason I'm asking this question."
Charlie's expression became guarded almost immediately at the mention of Sean. "Out of my family, only my older brother Bill knows, if that's what you're asking. Our close friends in Bucharest know, of course, and I think that Sean's parents have guessed."
She pressed further. "Could someone have found out about you two? A stranger, someone looking for information on you?"
Charlie's brow furrowed, crinkling the scar across his temple. "I suppose so, if you cared to find out. We've been living together for some time, and we don't actively hide our relationship over there. We don't flaunt it, though."
She couldn't wait anymore to tell him. "Charlie, I think that Sean was the target of the attack three weeks ago, not Oliver. I think someone was trying to get to you through Sean because of the article you wrote."
Charlie looked taken aback as he stood up, automatically tensing himself. "What do you mean?"
She shook her head. "It's a long story, but in short, several of the people who attacked Oliver has strong political sympathies for integration movements. Another wizard was Romanian, so he might have read the article you wrote and gathered together some friends to retaliate. Sean and Oliver look similar, especially from far away and in the dark. "
Though he clearly tried to compose himself, Charlie could not contain the intensity of the anger seething in his eyes. "Katie, if someone is targeting people I care about, I need to know more. I need to know everything. How do you know any of this?"
"I don't know anything for certain at the moment," she admitted. "I've been looking into the people who attacked Oliver, the five wizards, and so far I've found out that Kir Firtich, the Russian one, has strong ties to integration movements, and that Lukov and Ratshenko, two Bulgarian wizards, have a history of dark magic. They've been known to practice on muggle in broad daylight, and so it wouldn't surprise me if they were in favor of bringing the magical world into the open, if only for the chance to use muggles openly for experimentation. The one guys I haven't been able to find anything on, that no one seems to know about, is Emil Petrescu, a Romanian wizard. All the others have ties to dark magic or to movements advocating for the removal of the Statute of Secrecy, usually for the wrong reasons too. I haven't been able to make any connection between them and Oliver, so this is my first lead into their motives."
Charlie blinked several times before speaking in a controlled manner, maintaining an impressive semblance of calm given the information she'd just supplied him. "There's are several connections in there that need to be proven, if we're to believe this theory is true. Nothing you said is implausible, however, so I think it's best we act under the assumption that Sean, not Oliver, was being targeted because of me."
"What are you going to do?"
"I'm going to find everything there is to know about Emil Petrescu," he said darkly, and she felt very grateful Charlie Weasley was on her side. "Sean needs to know. He can take care of himself, but there are other precautions we need to take. Mum and dad need to know, and Bill and Fleur, the whole family." He ran a hand through his shaggy red hair distractedly.
"I'll look after George," she reminded him. "You can go, do whatever you need to do."
He shot a grateful look at her. "I feel like I always have to leave whenever I talk to you. I promise, it's not you."
"Maybe I just need to stop meeting you in such strange circumstances," she said.
"Yeah, but what even constitutes normal?" He flashed a crooked grin. "I need to leave. I'll be in touch, one way or another. I need want to know everything you know, but first I need to warn everyone."
He swept out of the room and disapparated with a loud crack outside the flat. She sat down on the couch and sank into its soft cushions. Lee's apartment was tastefully decorated, and she appreciated his choice of furniture. A painting hung on each of the doors to the two connecting bedrooms—the one with witch on a broom marked Lee's room, and the one with a dragon hung on the guest room which George now frequently occupied. As her gaze passed over the door, she noticed a little pink thing at the base of the door, and she narrowed her eyes in suspicion.
"George, are those extendable ears? Do you expect me to not recognize those things after all the times you and Fred tried to reach the girl's dormitory at school?"
The little pink lump wiggled its way back underneath the door, confirming her suspicions. If he had been listening to her conversation with Charlie, then she needed to explain a few things to him, so she went over to the door and knocked firmly.
"George, I know you're awake. We need to talk," she said loudly. When he offered no response, she knocked again, this time banging on the door. "George, I will blast this door apart if you don't open up right now. Lee will just take the cost out of my salary."
This time, she heard a small click as the door unlocked, and she opened the door cautiously, unsure of what she would find. When she walked in, she saw George lying on the bed, eyes fixed on the ceiling, wand twirling in the air lazily as he shot little sparks out of it. He wore one of the infamous Weasley family jumpers, a green one emblazoned with the letter G.
"I didn't know you and Charlie were pals," said George nonchalantly. "Then again, I also didn't know that he and Wood's brother have been shacking up for years, so…" A small purple firecracker shot out of his wand and crackled in the air, coalescing briefly into the shape of a dragon.
"Well, I can only explain one of those two things. We're not really friends—I've just run into him a few times over the past few weeks, mostly because he's been with Sean who's been with Oliver."
"And you've been with Oliver too," he surmised.
"I've been visiting," she said shortly. "Angelina and Alicia have also dropped by once or twice. I'm sure he'd be happy to see you."
George snorted. "I don't suppose Oliver's every happy about anything unless it's Quidditch-related."
Katie smiled ruefully. "That always helps, but he's…well, he actually does have other interests. Nothing that comes close to Quidditch, sure, but he hasn't minded listening to me blabber on about other things in my life."
"He always had a soft spot for you, Katie," George said with a smirk. "You were the youngest chaser, youngest player besides Harry, and you never went after him like Angelina did. I'm amazed that girl never took off his head."
"She's quite resilient," remarked Katie. "She puts up with a lot, especially from the men in her life."
"Your comment is noted," said George, "but I'm not having this discussion now."
"Fine," said Katie. "Where were you last night?"
"None of your business."
"I'm your friend, George. Can I not ask a simple question?"
"I was in Dublin," he said simply
"And what were you doing in Dublin? Not getting yourself arrested again?"
"No, Katie. I was just talking to some folks, trying to learn some things. A little bit like you these days."
"These people you were talking to, you weren't talking with them about Rookwood, were you?"
George gave an exasperated sigh, as if his patience for this conversation had already been exhausted. "I didn't know you were my mother, Katie. Between Charlie, Lee and Angelina and my actual mum, there really is no end to the people trying to smother me."
"We just care about you George. I care about you too, or I wouldn't be here Merlin knows why Lee puts up with your shit, but it certainly isn't because of your charming personality at the moment."
George flicked his wand, shot out a stream of red and gold sparks. "Since when did you start building up nerve like that? You used to be so sweet."
"Since you started taking lessons in backhanded compliments."
"Touché," he muttered. "I suppose you've always had a bit of nerve."
She didn't know how to respond to that. Instead, she changed the subject again. "You need to be careful, George. I'm not just saying that to nag on you, I mean it. I don't know how much you heard of my conversation with Charlie, but there's a chance he and his family are being targeted. I still don't know anything for certain, but I definitely can't rule it out. Right now, you'd make an easy target."
"I think I can protect myself, Katie," he said a little bitterly. "It's not like the Weasleys have had it easy the last few years. I'm used to looking out for myself."
"Normally, I wouldn't worry, at least not more than usual." She sat down on the bed next to him, and he looked up at her in surprise. "I know you're hurting. We all are. We all lost people last year, friends, family, people you saw everyday. I don't want to lose you too, George. These people, whoever they are, they mean business. Oliver was seriously hurt; he's improved a lot, but he's still in St. Mungo's. It's been hard on him, hard on everyone I know. If someone went after you…"
George was sitting up now, leaning against the pillows set at the head of the bed. He didn't look angry or bitter anymore, just very, very sad. It occurred to her that she hadn't seen him cry since the battle where Fred was killed. Even at the memorial service, he'd sat in silence, face as still as stone.
"I'm sorry, Katie," he said gently, his voice a little rough. "I'm sorry I can't feel the way you want me to feel."
"I'm not asking you to feel a certain way," she said. "I'm just asking you to keep yourself alive. Do you think you can promise me that?"
"I'll try my best," he said quietly.
She pulled him into a hug. He sat stiffly there, but she didn't let go. "That's all I want. No one expects you to be exactly as you were before. We understand that's not really possible at the moment, but we still want to see you. Come over for dinner sometime. Say hi. Alicia hasn't seen you in ages."
George smirked a little, a shadow of his former self flickering across his face. "I thought she and Lee would be too busy thinking about the Gala tomorrow.'
Clearly Lee hadn't told George he was no longer going. She couldn't tell George the truth, not when Alicia still wanted to hide. Still, she didn't want to lie to him fully. "Actually, I'm going with Alicia, not Lee."
George appeared confused. "I always thought…Lee and Alicia, he's liked her for ages."
"I'm not so sure that's going to work out."
"Well, I'm sure you'll have a grand old time. Ginny was quite excited about it, said she already picked out her dress."
"I should hope so," said Katie. "It is tomorrow after all. Merlin only knows what Alicia and Angelina are going to do to me."
"I don't envy you," said George. "Fred told me Angelina spent several hours getting ready before the Yule Ball, and now she's had even more time to practice."
In the end, her worst fears were confirmed. Though the Gala didn't even begin until eight, Angelina showed up at Katie's office at four o'clock armed with a terrifyingly determined expression.
"I am going to make you look beautiful," she said in a threatening voice which really didn't make it sound like Katie had any choice in the matter. Alicia trailed in behind her, trying to appear apologetic but unable to hide the glee from her face. Alicia had her own dressing up to do, but obviously Angelina trusted her more since she wasn't dragged into the bathroom along with a basketful of makeup, potions and hair products. Angelina began rifling through the various vials and tins, muttering to herself under her breath.
"You know," ventured Katie, "I could just…do it myself. I'm not entirely useless."
"Of course," said Angelina dismissively, "but it wouldn't be nearly as good. This is fun for me, Katie. Let me have my fun."
Kate didn't want to deny Angelina her fun, so she simply sat down in the chair Angelina had dragged from the kitchen into the bathroom. She regarded the two bottles Angelina eventually selected with some trepidation. One of them read "Corwinkle's Curling Potion," while another she recognized as Pitterfink's Hair Gel.
Angelina held out the two bottles seriously, looking at Katie with a mad gleam that, disturbingly enough, echoed Oliver Wood. "Your hair is different from mine and Alicia's, but no worries. I've worked with hair like this before."
"If my hair is still attached to my head at the end, I will consider this a success," said Katie.
"Hmm," hummed Angelina, and she went to work. First, she pulled out a large brush and ran it through Katie's hair more than Katie felt was strictly necessary, pulling every little knot loose. Then she applied a dab of the hair gel and a much larger heap of curling potion. The liquid felt greasy and oily on her hair, but Angelina assured her that was normal. When Angelina held out her wand, tip glowing red with heat, Katie nearly bolted.
"What are you doing?" she shrieked.
"Curling your hair," said Angelina, as if that were obvious.
"There are curling irons for that, you know. Things that are more temperature controlled so you don't light my hair on fire," said Katie.
"Hush," said Angelina. "I did quite well in charms, I'll have you know."
In the end, Angelina only slightly scorched Katie's hair. To fix this, she applied a layer of hair repair potion that made her whole head feel oddly cool. Angelina pulled, tugged and forced Katie's hair into position, at which point she added an excessive amount of hair gel and waved her wand several times over the whole arrangement in order to maintain its shape. Kate wondered half-heartedly whether any of this would come out in the shower tonight. Probably not.
"Alright," said Angelina cheerfully. "Time for your makeup."
"Again, I must insist that I can do this myself," said Katie.
"And I already told you, don't deny me my fun." Angelina's smile was blinding. Katie hadn't seen her so happy in months, so she sighed and resigned herself to her friend's ministrations.
All told, Katie spent more than two hours locked in the bathroom. Alicia popped her head in at one point to check on the two of them and smiled when Katie glowered at her. She promised Katie she had cooked some chicken for dinner, but Katie had begun to doubt she would be allowed to eat dinner. At last, Angelina released her from the chair, and even Katie had to admit she looked more glamorous as she ever had.
"No one will recognize me," said Katie, eyeing herself in the mirror. "Even if I do meet people I know, they won't believe it's me."
"Nonsense," said Angelina smugly. "They'll see you, and everyone is going to fall over themselves to dance with you. This is your chance to snag a hot Quidditch player."
"Oh yes," said Katie sarcastically. "You know me so well. All I want from life is a hot Quidditch player."
"I'm just saying," said Angelina defensively, "don't underestimate yourself."
Katie rolled her eyes, but gave Angelina a quick hug. "Thanks, Ange. It looks great, it really does."
"Oh I know," said Angelina, grinning. "Now go eat your dinner quickly so we can get you in your dress."
Alicia emerged around seven thirty, looking gorgeous in her skintight scarlet dress. Her hazel-colored skin practically glowed. She exuded anticipation and excitement, and Katie knew she had made the right choice in helping Alicia to spend the evening with Kira. Angelina surveyed them both, deemed Alicia beautiful and Katie "her finest work" and sent them both on their merry way. Their invitations acted as portkeys, so the two of them gripped the invitation as the clock struck seven forty-five and sent them both whirring away from the apartment to the blinding lights and the glitz and glamor of the Gala.
A/N: Sorry for the delay in updates. Believe it or not, I actually became busier after finals ended, and I no longer had to procrastinate on my work by writing this (it's amazing how much easier it is to write this when I should be writing something else). Next chapter should be up sooner, since I've already written about half of it.
