The portkey dropped them in the foyer of what appeared to be a large mansion. Katie stumbled, tripping over her high heels and long dress until Alicia caught her. Several other couples were also appearing around them, all impeccably dressed and landing gracefully in the room. Katie gazed in wonder at room around her—high ceiling, chandelier, a massive marble fountain springing from the ground—it reminded her of a smaller, posher Hogwarts. Everything about the space oozed wealth and opulence.
"Where exactly are we?" muttered Katie quietly to Alicia.
"The Quidditch Commissioner's house. Her estate is so large she has a full ballroom and a dozen sitting rooms for socializing. The event's been hosted here for years."
The idea of one person having this much wealth awed Katie. Sure, she knew that certain families like the Malfoys were incredibly affluent, but she'd grown up working-class in a small town in the north of England and she'd never been to a private home this opulent before. If Quidditch was this lucrative, then any guilt she felt over Kira paying for her dress instantaneously dissipated. Some of her amazement must have shown on her face, because Alicia chuckled.
"Still sure you don't want to try to be a Quidditch player?" she asked, nudging Katie in the ribs
"I don't know, Alicia," she said. "This is pretty incredible."
Alicia grinned and led them out of the foyer and down a hallway. Several on-duty aurors checked their ticket and performed a quick scan for dark objects before allowing them to enter. Katie noticed that while several reporters with cameras stood around the foyer, none were allowed past the aurors, creating some sense of privacy. They continued down the hallway which opened into a ballroom only slightly smaller than the Great Hall of Hogwarts. Despite the summer heat, ice sculptures adorned all of the tables placed on the sides. Platters of hors d'oeuvres lay along the long tables on the far left side, and at the end of the massive room, she saw the drink table, complete with a champagne fountain and a host of bartenders waiting to serve the guests. The ballroom itself was grand—marbled floor, paintings of famous witches and wizards hanging on the walls, chandeliers and streamers dangling from the ceilings—and Katie suddenly felt very small and very out of place.
"Mara! Dave!" Alicia called over to several of her friends who had already arrived. She dragged Katie over to make introductions, and Katie suddenly realized that these two people were Mara Orkney and David Lance, two prominent veteran Quidditch players. David had played as a beater for the Tornadoes for years before becoming a coach, while Mara, his wife, currently played seeker for the Holyhead Harpies. Katie stammered as she spoke, trying not to make a complete fool of herself in front of two such celebrated Quidditch players. Fortunately, they both seemed down to earth.
"Alicia tells me you used to play for Gryffindor at school, is that right?" asked Mara.
"Yes, I did. Chaser, along with Alicia."
"We usually scout all the seventh year players in the spring," said Dave, frowning slightly. "I don't remember you."
"Katie was in St. Mungo's," interjected Alicia quickly. "A Death Eater imperiused her, gave her a cursed necklace that she touched. You probably just missed her."
"Oh my!" exclaimed Mara. "I'm so sorry."
"It's fine," said Katie, plastering a smile on her face. "I'm fully recovered now." She wished Alicia wouldn't casually mention the incident like that, but Alicia seemed oblivious to Katie's discomfort.
Alicia, Mara and Dave continued their small talk while Katie stood awkwardly by Alicia's side. Many other familiar faces passed by, some Katie recognized as players from reading Quidditch Weekly, while others she knew as politicians, musicians or other prominent figures. Eventually, Mara and Dave left, leaving Alicia and Katie temporarily alone. Katie was about to speak when Alicia spotted two other friends of hers. "Isabelle! Fernando!" she called out, and Katie was then swept away into another round of small talk, this time with Isabelle Wichter and Fernando Rodriguez, keeper and chaser respectively for the Leicester Manticores.
As Alicia cycled through introductions with all of her friends, Katie quickly learned two things: one, that Quidditch players appeared to date each other more often than not, drastically diminishing her chance of finding an attractive, single Quidditch player and fulfilling Angelina's hopes; and two, that she was hopelessly pop-culturally ignorant. Alicia pointed out various celebrities—singers, players, authors—and Katie only recognized half of them at most. Never a pop-culture aficionado, Katie found her knowledge base had diminished during her time in hiding. People had disappeared during Voldemort's reign, but others had quickly replaced them.
After more than half an hour of flitting from couple to couple, group to group, Kira found them, or rather, Kira found Alicia. The two embraced for a long time while Katie looked on, happy for them but unsure of how to respond. Eventually, they broke apart and Kira greeted Katie.
"Oh, you look like a dream, Katie," gushed Kira.
Katie blushed, feeling very much like an awkward bowtruckle next to Kira, who was easily one of the most elegantly, fashionably dressed people at the Gala. Her strawberry-blonde hair floated around her face, framing it perfectly, and she wore one of the color-changing dresses that Katie had seen in Gloria's Gowns. Every time Alicia brushed the fabric, the emerald cloth rippled and shimmered with different shades of green. She managed to mumble out a quick, "You look lovely too," beneath the blinding glare of Kira's smile.
Alicia wrapped an arm around Kira's waist, face bright and glowing with happiness. "Katie, would you mind if Kira and I spoke in private for a bit?" Kira leaned her head on Alicia's shoulder, and their sheer bliss overwhelmed Katie.
"Sure," agreed Katie.
"Wonderful. I'll find you later," said Alicia, and she and Kira walked away towards one of the sitting rooms, Alicia's arm still on Kira's waist.
Now alone, Katie wandered over to the drink table. All drinks were free, but a quick glance at the menu told her she didn't even recognize most of the names. In the end, she ordered a strange cocktail, unsure of what to expect, and the bartender brought out a glass containing a fizzing, sparkling, electric blue liquid. A spark flew out of it, and Katie jumped back in alarm, spilling several drops over her hands.
"Watch yourself, Bell. I thought you just drank beer and firewhiskey."
Katie whipped around to see Amit leaning against the table casually. She almost didn't recognize him without his characteristic band t-shirt and jeans, but it was still him beneath the fancy black dress-robes and carefully coiffed hair.
"Amit!" she exclaimed. "What are you doing here?"
"Your deductive skills are astounding. I was invited, of course."
"Of course," she said, a little nonplussed. "I had no idea you were coming. Who are you with here?"
"An old friend of mine," he smiled at her. "She's off talking to the prime minister of Belgium right now, left me all alone, so I thought I would seek out new friends. I almost didn't recognize you beneath all the hair product."
Katie sighed. "Angelina's doing, not mine. She didn't give me much choice in the matter."
"Those are the best sorts of friends aren't they? The ones who know better than you?"
"I'm sure you think so. You're not exactly the humblest person in the room."
Amit held a hand to his heart in mock pain. "You wound me, Katie, you really do. I'll have you know that my ego is probably one of the smallest in the room. All these people, they didn't get here by thinking other people were more qualified for their jobs. The people you perceive as polite just hide their ambitions better than everyone else."
"You're in a cynical mood tonight," she remarked.
"I just don't feel like hiding it for once. Normally I can out-charm anyone else here" he countered. "One firewhiskey, neat," he told the bartender.
"Are you sure your ego doesn't belong here as well?" she asked him.
"I'd like to think so, but I suppose I'm not the best judge. I'm only here because I'm owed a rather large favor by a very important person, and he lets me come to this Gala as thanks. Music journalists usually don't make the cut for the guest list."
"Neither do people like me," said Katie.
Amit took his glass of firewhiskey from the bartender and clinked it against her cocktail. "I'll drink to that."
They each took a sip from their glasses. The blue fizzy drink burned slightly as it slid down her throat, but not in an entirely unpleasant way. Amit appeared unfazed by the scorching feeling that accompanies firewhiskey.
"Seriously, who are you with?" asked Amit. "No offense, but he's probably more important than you are to be invited here."
"She," said Katie pointedly, "is a Quidditch player. Alicia Spinnet, chaser for the Tornadoes."
Amit sipped his drink thoughtfully. "I hope you're not actually on a date, because if so, you might want to observe what she and a certain Ms. Hapley are up to in one of the sitting rooms. It's not especially subtle."
This information surprised Katie. "They're not being subtle about it? The entire point of me coming here was to allow Alicia to avoid telling anyone."
Amit chuckled to himself. "Well, fortunately there aren't any active reporters allowed in on this event. They just need to beware the power of word of mouth after the fact. Were I working for one of those gossip rags, I would be a very happy employee tonight."
Katie frowned and began to respond when suddenly a woman bumped into Amit, causing him to slosh his drink all over the front of his dress robes.
"Shit," he muttered, surveying the damage. He began pulling items from his pocket: a notebook, a quill, a silver flask. Katie cast a quick drying charm over his robe and his possessions, and Amit smiled gratefully. "Thank you."
"I'm so sorry," said the figure who'd bumped into him. "Let me just get you a new drink." Kate immediately recognized the voice.
"Hestia! I didn't expect to see you here!"
"Katie?" said Hestia Jones in surprise. "Same goes for you. How have you been?"
"I've been well, thank you. You were an immense help to me, and I've been making good progress."
Hestia glanced around the room nervously. "I'm glad to hear it, but I would prefer it if you didn't talk about it in public, especially once my date comes back."
"Who's your date?" asked Amit curiously.
Hestia blushed, her pale cheeks turning rosy. She muttered something that neither Katie nor Amit could hear.
"I'm sorry, I didn't catch that," said Katie.
"Kingsley," muttered Hestia slightly louder, and Amit whistled.
"Your date is with the Minister of Magic?" asked Katie incredulously.
"It's hardly a date," said Hestia, though her blush remained. "We just became friendly while I was in the Order, and he's asked me to lunch a couple of times."
"And then to one of the biggest social events of the year. That's not nothing." Noted Katie.
"Yes, well, I would appreciate it if you didn't mention what I did for you," reminded Hestia.
"Of course," said Katie. "I wouldn't dream of it."
"Well, good, because he's coming over right now."
Katie barely had time to compose herself before Kinglsey Shacklebolt, the legendary auror and current Minister of Magic strode over with a casual grace that reminded Katie of a large cat. While most wizards in the room wore black dress robes, Kingsley's robes were a deep shade of purple, darker than her dress but still unmistakably purple. He also towered a full head above Hestia and Katie, while even Amit appeared diminished in Kingsley's presence. One gold hoop hung from his right earlobe and his bald head shone in the light. He placed a light kiss on Hestia's cheek once he arrived.
"Kingsley, this Katie Bell…and I'm so sorry, but what was your name?" said Hestia, gesturing to Amit.
"Mr. Khan," said Kinsley in a deep, powerful voice. "It is good to see you again."
"Likewise, Minister," said Amit. Kingsley held out a hand and they shook formally. Kingsley then turned to Katie.
"Ms. Bell, I believe you assisted the Order several times last year. Is that correct?" he said, his dark eyes peering into her.
"Yes," she said, attempting to maintain a calm façade. Here she was talking with the Minister of Magic, and he remembered her? This was certainly more than she had anticipated. "It wasn't anything too impressive, though."
Kingsley narrowed his eyes at her. "Any work that endangers your life is not unimpressive."
Katie didn't know how to respond, so she simply smiled at him, hoping the conversation would turn elsewhere. She nudged Amit in the ribs, hoping he would jump in for her, prevent her from having to continue small-talking with the minister of magic. Fortunately, Hestia cut in, saving both her and Amit.
"How long have you two been together?" she asked, looking at the two of them.
Katie let out a bark of laugh in surprise. "Oh, we're…we're not together. Amit is a friend, and I just ran into him here."
Hestia furrowed her brow. "Are you here with Oliver Wood then? I know you two are friends."
Katie didn't bother hiding her shock. "Oliver? He's here?"
"Well of course," said Hestia. "I assumed you knew."
"I didn't even know he was out of the hospital. I just visited him yesterday," said Katie, running her fingers through her hair distractedly. Oliver was here? Of course, he was a Quidditch player, one of the best, and he had every right to be here, but it stung that he hadn't told her he would be coming. "I can't believe he didn't mention he was coming tonight."
Amit placed a hand on her shoulder. "Why don't you go find him? I can handle myself here."
She smiled gratefully at him. "Thanks. Excuse me, Hestia, Minister," she said, nodding at each of them in turn. She set off around the ballroom, eyes scanning the room for familiar faces. It would have been easier to spot him if he were a Weasley with bright red hair. Unfortunately, Oliver's hair was brown, just like the majority of the wizards in the room. At this point in the night, the band was playing gentle waltzing music, and dozens of couples danced around the floor. Even more people stood around the edges of the dance floor, while others sat on chairs lining the walls. Even if Oliver were out of the hospital, he certainly wasn't fully healed, so she began searching along the edge of the ballroom, along the chairs and tables situated around the actual dance floor. After several minutes of searching, she spotted not him but a pair of crutches leaning against a table.
She approached the table from behind, and his head came into view as she neared. He wore a simple, elegant set of dress robes and he appeared to have actually attempted to comb his hair. Amongst a sea of grandeur and excess, he seemed rather ordinary, familiar.
"I didn't know you were going to be here," she said from behind him.
He whipped around in surprise. When he saw her, his eyes widened and he tripped over whatever words he intended to say. "Katie…I…uh, I didn't….hello," he finally managed to spit out.
"I saw you yesterday. You didn't bother to mention you were being released?" she asked skeptically.
"I'm not, actually," he told her. "I managed to convince them to let me have a night away from the hospital. It took some convincing, but they actually seemed quite glad to be rid of me in the end. Apparently I can be, well…"
"A bit of a grouch?" supplied Katie. Oliver grimaced, but didn't disagree. "Oliver, you know I care about you, but you don't always make it easy."
"Whatever," he said. "I'm here. Sean's with me, of course, that was part of the deal, that I have a healer with me. He's off talking with the head of St. Mungo's right now, catching up or something like that. He might as well have some fun, because I can't drink anything or dance. Honestly, I'm not even sure why I bothered."
"I didn't know you could dance to begin with," said Katie wryly.
Oliver glared at her, but his expression softened quickly. "You've never seen me dance," he told her.
"I don't think I have to," she replied. "You may be coordinated in the air, but dancing is more about an attitude. You have to relax."
"I can relax," he said indignantly, and she burst out laughing. "What? I can!"
"Just like you're doing right now?" she said snidely. He didn't dignify her question with a response, so she continued. "Come on, Oliver. You're surrounded by the most celebrated witches and wizards in England right now. Everyone here is beautiful, everyone here is having a good time, and you're going to sit here sulking?"
She sat next to him at one of the empty chairs and placed her drink on the table. Several couples whirled by them on the dance floor, dress robes flowing lightly in the air. She recognize someone a man as the head of the Department of Muggle Relations, another woman as a chaser for either the Chudley Cannons or the Glenville Hippogriffs, she couldn't remember which.
"I never wanted to be a Quidditch player for the fame," he said, breaking the lull in conversation. "I always loved Quidditch, from the moment I first saw a broom and a quaffle. Even if they payed me nothing, I would play"
"I know, Oliver," she said. "Believe me, I don't need further convincing that you love Quidditch for its own sake."
He shook his head. "I know that, but you're missing the point. All these famous ministers and musicians, celebrities and other Quidditch players, they don't matter to me. Sure, my teammates and opponents do, but we could just as easily be in a bar, having a few pints after practice, and I'd be having just as much fun."
"Then why did you come? You had to fight to get here after all."
"This might be the last one I'm invited to," he said glumly. "Who knows what shape I'll be in next year? If I can't play, then I'm not sure what I'll do."
"If you can't play, you'll figure out something."
"That's what Sean says," said Oliver, rolling his eyes. "He wants me to come with him to Romania for a while, to get away while I rehabilitate. I'm not sure what I would do, seeing as the only two people I know there are Sean and Charlie, and they both have their own lives."
Katie took a deep breath before saying, "You could spend time with me."
Oliver face scrunched up in confusion. "What do you mean?"
Was this how she committed herself to healer training? Did she just decide to leave England almost on a whim? She spoke disbelievingly, her mind still whirring rapidly. "Sean offered me a spot as a healer trainee with his hospital in Romania. I figure I might try it out for a while, see how it goes."
His puzzled expression didn't fade. "I thought you had a job."
"I do, and I think I'll be able to work at it on the side," she said. She really was making things up as she progressed, but it began to sound more believable as she spoke. "I might actually be able to do more work in Romania, given that one of the wizards I'm investigating is Romanian. It would be a chance to try a new place, a new profession. I've enjoyed my job at the radio so far, but if I want to stay full time, I have to start being a real reporter, someone who does more day to day things for Lee and Risa. I'm not sure how I feel about being a real journalist."
"Where would you stay?" said Oliver.
"Sean said he'd figure it out."
"And Angelina? Alicia? Leanne? What about them?" he asked.
"We'd keep in touch. I'd visit often, they could visit me. I'd already have at least one good friend already there, so it wouldn't be so bad."
"You mean Sean?" he said.
"No, you idiot," she said, sighing softly. "I mean you. You're my friend."
A genuine smile crossed his face. "I suppose I am."
What a weird man Oliver Wood was. "Someone needs to be there to make you have some fun every now and again."
He raised his eyebrows skeptically. "And you think you're the person to do it."
"I know I am," she said. She stood up and held out her hand. "For example, right now, I am asking you to have fun by dancing with me."
He looked incredulously at her. "You're asking me to dance? We've already established I can't do that."
"I'm not expecting you to do it well, all things considered. I'm just asking you to get up and sway from side to side in time with the music. Just play along."
Oliver considered her offer, then frowned. "Isn't it traditional for the man to ask a lady to dance?"
She felt her cheeks redden in annoyance. "If you think for one second that I care about that bull—
Oliver held up his hands in defense, slightly alarmed. "I was joking, Kates. Joking. It's a joke."
She deflated, but still glared at him. "I've said it before, and I'll say it again. Humor doesn't suit you, Wood. Now get up." He reached for his crutches, but she brushed his hands away. "You can lean on me. I know you can bear at least a little weight on your leg." She stretched out her hand again.
He hesitated, but in the end he grabbed it and pulled himself to his feet, stumbling. He nearly fell on top her but she caught him and held his shoulders steady, providing much needed support. After several seconds of wavering, he stabilized himself and managed to wrap an arm around her shoulders. She led him with hobbling steps onto the edge of the dance floor where more adept dancers could avoid them if they wished. Then she spun him around so he was facing her directly, her eyes just below the level of his nose.
"You doing okay?" she asked him, eyeing his right leg which he held stiffly at his side. She noticed he still wore his brace beneath the dress robes.
"I'll be fine," he assured her. "It's your feet we should watch out for."
She chuckled softly. "Look at you, getting the hang of this joking business."
He smiled, but didn't say anything more, just focused on maintaining his balance. The last song ended, and a new one began. It took her a few moments to recognize it as Celestina Warbeck's "Full Moon Just For You." Just perfect, she thought to herself. A romantic ballad, and a Celestina Warbeck one at that.
Either Oliver didn't recognize the song or he didn't mind its connotations because he make no remark as all around the ballroom, couples began slow-dancing, holding each other close and swaying gently. She pulled him closer to her, allowed his hands to travel down to her waist as hers moved up to his shoulders. This close to each other, she had to look up in order to see his face. When she did, she laughed internally at the concentration-filled expression he wore.
They were halfway through the song when Katie felt the need to begin their conversation again. "If you've been here before, did you have a good time in previous years?" she asked him.
"Last year was fun, I suppose," he said thoughtfully. "I was here with Suki, a woman I'd been on a few dates with. Wesley, who's a teammate and friend of mine, set me up with her, and we got along alright. It didn't last much longer after the Gala, though. She didn't like my schedule and thought I talked about Quidditch too much."
"You do talk about Quidditch too much," said Katie. "I think you've improved, though. It's much better than when we were in school."
"Lots of things are different than when we were in school," he said,
"Different, yes," she agreed. "Some better, some worse. I'm a little surprised they were able to hold this event so soon after Voldemort died."
Oliver frowned. "Life goes on, I suppose. Things change, and the rest want to move on as quickly as possible. If they can," he added grimly.
"If they can," she said. They swayed together as the song drew to a close. "Everyone who survived—I think they move on. It might be different, but we still have a life. We all do, everyone who lived."
The song ended, but neither she nor Oliver made any motion to return to the table. When the band began playing a new tune, they stood on the edge of the dance floor, holding onto each other, him for support, her for the warmth of a friend who somehow felt both familiar and new.
"Romania is going to be different," she said.
"Different," he repeated. "Certainly different."
"We're not running away. I'm going for work, and you're going for rehabilitation. We'll come back, and our friends will still be here. Maybe they'll have moved on too," she said, thinking primarily of George.
"Maybe," he said. He gazed directly into her eyes. "By the way, I don't think I told you yet, but you look lovely tonight. I've never seen you wear anything like this dress before."
"That's because I usually don't," she said. "Some things do change for the better, perhaps."
Neither of them spoke any further. They simply danced as the band played on, and a strange, warm sense of comfort overcame her for the first time all night. Something about old school friends, she supposed, but thought nothing more of it.
A/N: I'm happy I finally got to this scene. I'd had this in mind from the beginning, so it was nice to finally have the chance to write it out. The story continues as always. Thanks to everyone who reviewed, as it really does mean a lot.