a/n: ok people. chapter number the twenty-first. please do not be discouraged to read it! i know it's pretty long, but honestly, i've worked three weeks solidon this! which explains the delay... but more on that later.

"So... How are you coping?"

"Eh..."

"At least give me some insight."

"Okay then. How would you feel if you found out your boyfriend of over a year has been cheating on you for the past seven months and you had absolutely no fricken clue?"

"Not so hot."

"I thought so."

Technically speaking, I suppose this isn't too horrendous of a senario. I mean, if you ask for my honest opinion, I'm quite happy about Jack and Nasuada breaking things off. But I suppose the reason isn't really justified.

"But Nasuada, you didn't even like him that much," I start, rubbing her back in slow circle motions.

We're currently sitting on her sofa in her flat. She lives in the suburbs, in some town I didn't even know existed until I became her friend. I know I shouldn't be jealous, but I can't help thinking about how much more money Nasuada makes than I do. It's petty to dwell on, but while shifting my gaze around her flat, it looks pretty fucking nice. For one thing, it's more spacious than my tiny square of a room. This thing is like a bachellorette pad. Seriously! She's got all the quirky decorations, one wall is fuscia, the other one screaming orange. It's completely original and clean. And her couch look quite expensive. I don't even know if I should be sitting on it.

"He was my boyfriend!" Nasuada blubbers, blowing on her hanky. "People you're in a relationship with are supposed to be honest and trustworthy!"

It's not that I don't feel bad. It's not that I don't care either. I do. It's just that I don't really see why she's crying over him in the first place. I mean, he was a pretty big jerk to me. He wasn't too polite, always looked down on me, and in general, didn't favour me. Or the rest of her friends.

"Why would he sleep with her?" she cries, slamming her fragile figure on the couch. It's such a pretty couch, and yet she literally throws herself onto it. Yikes. "What was wrong with our sex life? I wasn't incapable or anything!"

"Umm..." I murmur, shifting nervously. I don't mind sex. I really don't. But I do mind people going on about their own sex lives to me.

"We did it quite often! Everytime he came back from his stupid job, he'd just pick me up and have me right here!" She motions to her couch with extreme bitterness in her voice. She doesn't notice me jumping out of my seat. "It wasn't bad. I've had orgasms every time, and I'm pretty sure he did too - "

"Oh my god, please shut up!" I quickly press my hands onto my ears and scrunch up my face. "I don't want to know about you two going at it!"

She chooses to ignore me on this. "I'm not a boring person in bed, you know. I do some new stuff. And he enjoyed it, since he had that weird smile on his face every time he got a good roll! I just don't understand why he'd choose to sleep with another skank! Wasn't I good enough for him?"

"Of course you were!" I exclaim, standing up and giving her a hug. "You were a far better girlfriend than he was a boyfriend. He never cooked for you, sometimes treated you badly. He was constantly rude towards your friends. And besides, he was always away on business trips - "

"Or so he said," she mutters darkly. Her eyes flood once more with tears, as she honks on her hanky. "But what is wrong with me? What the fuck did I ever do wrong? I was always faithful. I was courteous! I don't get it!"

"First of all," I say, crossin my arms, "You shouldn't be blaming yourself. Clearly, he's the one that's got something wrong with him. Isn't he the one who went out to sleep with a slut?"

"Yes, but - "

"And wasn't he the dumb one? So don't go accusing yourself for his wrongs, Nasuada. He throws you away like a rag, and still you put him on a higher pedestal."

"I do not!"

"He's not good for you!" I tell he, shaking her by the shoulders. "I've been trying to get that in your head since the time you started going out with him! And now look - he's used you, took control over you, slept with someone else behind your back, and now he's leaving you for that whore!"

"He didn't use me - "

"Didn't he?"

She remains silent for a moment, her face deep in thought. "When has he - "

"That time when he borrowed money from you!"

"When the heck was that?"

"When he owed those gamblers during the World Cup! And he never gave it back to you!"

"He was my boyfriend! What was mine was his - "

"Are you kidding me?" I cry, slapping myself on the head. "Tell me you didn't just say that. Tell me."

"Well, I just thought..." she utters, shuffling her feet on the ground. "Oh never you mind with that! Can't we just wallow in my pity right now?"

"I refuse," I say resolutely, standing stiffly on the otherside of the room.

"You refuse?" she asks, her eyes narrowing at me. "I've been your friend for all these years and I've stuck by all your grief and now you refuse to stick with mine?"

"That's only because Jack Scotfield is a smarmy bastard and I don't think you should be wallowing in the name of a dickhead."

"Fine!" she screams, pulling a pillow on her face. She mumbles something, but the sound is blocked by the pillow.

"You know," I say loudly for her benefit, "my friend George Weasley isn't a jerk and all - "

"Don't you go talking about George at a time like this!" she says, scandalised. "I've just broken up with my boyfriend of two years only three hours ago, and now you're trying to talk up another guy!"

"Another guy that I know you're completely smitten with," I say smugly, a sly smile playing on my face.

"I am not - "

"You're just in denial, pal. You've liked him since you first met him. Even when you were with Jack."

With that, she launches the pillow at me. "Are you trying to make me feel guitly?"

"Guilty of what?" I ask, catching the pillow smoothly and throwing it back at her.

"You're making me feel bad! You're implying that I somehow was unfaithful to Jack by liking George - "

"Didn't the two of you go out for dinner a few times too?"

"As friends!" she cries, trying to convince me. Or more likely, herself.

"I wouldn't mind if you went out with George. He's such a sweetheart," I tell her brightly.

"He is, isn't he - Hey! Don't change the subject!"

"I wasn't. We were discussing George Weasley anyway. And I was just making a comment on him. Isn't he quite dashing too?"

"Stop it, Katie."

"Stop what?"

"Talking about George."

"Why, do you not like him?"

"Of course I like him - "

"Then why stop talking about him?"

"Because I'm still sad over my break up!" she yells, her hands instantly going to her head. "I can't deal with George when I've just been dumped!"

"What an unjustified breakup," I comment, stroking my chin.

She glares at me. "You're not much of a help."

"I can't help my sarcasm or bluntness."

"Can't you humour me a bit?"

"I am! Didn't you pick it up?"

"I meant cheer me up!" She rolls her eyes at me and slumps back on to the couch.

"You know who's really good at cheering people up?"

"Don't say George!"

"I wasn't going to!" I say, shaking my head at her, "I'm not that predictable. I was just going to say Alicia - "

"I don't want anything to do with that Alicia Spinnet!" Nasuada says venomously. "I do not appreciate her. I can't stand her."

"Is it because she dated George?" I ask her in a serious tone.

"No!"

"Then why?"

"I just don't," she mutters, wrapping the blanket strewn across the couch onto herself. "I'm sad and pathetic right now. I feel worthless. Can you just be a friend and cry with me?"

"Yeah," I reply, softly, walking towards her. "As long as I don't have to sit on that couch."

"What's wrong with my couch?" she asks, her voice full of suspicion.

I fold my legs beneath me and sit on the floor in front of her. "I just don't want to sit on something where yours and Jack's naked body have been orgasming."

She remains quiet for a while. Her breathing comes out long and laboured. Eventually she speaks up. "Katie?"

"Yes Nasuada?"

"Thanks for being here."

"Don't thank me. I want to be here."

"And Katie?"

"Yes Nasuada?"

"I wouldn't want to sit on the floor."

"Why not?"

"We had sex right there too."

Good motherfucking grief.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"What is the matter with you?"

I hardly notice myself opening the door and letting Alicia into my flat. In fact, for the past week, I haven't noticed much. No, I've pretty much been flying in and out of some sort of daze.

"Are you even going to speak to me today?" Alicia says, snapping her fingers in my face. "You know, you haven't said anything for like, the three times I've seen you this week. All you've been doing is smiling at me. What's wrong with you?"

I'm just happy. Is it so bad to be happy? I should think not.

"Katie! Are you feeling okay?... Well, judging by that dumb smile, I'm guessing you are... but what the hell!"

Instead of answering her, I float back into my kitchen and fix her a drink of tea. I hope my smile isn't that creepy. I remember in the hospital when George said I looked funny.

"So anyway," Alica says, taking the drink I've just handed to her, "it's been like, almost two months solid that I've been without a boyfriend. I think I'm achieving something, you know? Putting out the statement that I don't need someone there to latch onto. I'm pretty independent!"

When I don't answer her back, she ploughs on as if she didn't pause. "I mean, I don't need George. Of course I don't. To be hoenst, I realized that I never needed him. Sure, he was a great boyfriend, but it's true. I'm right, we just don't click. Shagging him was pretty much bitching awesome, but in reality, we just didn't work, you know? And let's be real, I think he's a bit out of my lea - urgh! Katie, what the hell did you put in this, salt?" She sputters out the tea I had made for her and slams the cup down.

"What's wrong with you?" she asks me, her eyes narrowing in suspicion. "You're never absent minded. You're the uptight one. Something happened. Tell me."

Well, it's safe to say she's very demanding.

"Hengh?" I grunt, staring at her blankly.

"What happened to you? Really, you've been like this for a whole week. Angelina said so too!"

"Been like what?"

She starts to rub her arms uncomfortably. "I dunno... it's a bit weird though. Like you're there but not really. You're always smiling but we don't know what you're smiling about. It's like you're... oh, I don't know, maybe lovesick or something."

When I continue to smile, she suddenly comes to realization and shrieks, "You're lovesick! Katie Bell is lovesick? Lovesick!"

"Don't be silly," I say, but my heart really isn't into it. Instead, my smile grows even wider.

"It's Oliver, isn't it," she snickers, a smirk growing on her face.

"Why would you think it's Oliver?" I shoot back, raising my eyebrows, my concentration suddenly into the conversation

"Because!"

"Because what?"

"Come on, Katie. Everybody knows you've got this big crush on him."

"I do not!"

"Don't try to deny it. Besides, it's obvious to everyone that you get smitten everytime he talks to you. And what are you getting so worked up for? He's had this crush on you since fifth year."

"Excuse me?" I exclaim, completely caught off guard. "Okay, let's back up for a moment - "

"Now that I've finally gotten your full attention," she says sarcastically.

I throw her a glare. "First of all, Alicia, I do not have a big crush on Oliver - "

"No, you've got a major one."

"Don't interrupt me!" I cry, my arms on my hips. "I don't have any kind of crush on Oliver. So what if I'm smiling? Is it illegal for me to smile without a reason?"

"For you? Yeah," she says seriously, drumming her fingers on the table. "But to amuse me and go on with your speech."

I choose to ignore her irritating comment. "Oliver and I are perfectly good friends. Friends, Alicia, friends. I don't have a crush on him. And he's never had any kind of crush on me."

"He did," she says, her left brow rising. "Since fifth year."

"No, he didn't."

"Well, of course you wouldn't know. You were too thick back in Hogwarts - "

"I was voted most like - "

"Most likely to succeed, I know," she finishes for me. "But I meant in the male department."

"I had boyfriends!" I cry, breathing harshly out of my nose. "Doesn't that count for anything?"

"Not when all you did was sit by the lake and share crackers."

"We did more than that!"

"No you didn't. I was watching you."

"You mean you were stalking me," I snap, a weird noise errupting from the back of my throat. "I didn't think of you as the stalker type - "

"If you're going to go blaming people, don't blame it on me fully." She crosses her arms and gives me a severe look. "You can also blame Angelina. She was pretty nosy. And Fred, who was just annoyingly curious. Lee was always there with his tarantula in case they did something to you. George was always in on the watching, since he was a bit protective of you. And because he wanted to try out new hexes. Harry was sometimes forced into it after practice to make sure that guy on the Hufflepuff team didn't sabotage the Gryffindor plays."

I suck my teeth as a small anger boils inside me. "Why were you all stalking me!"

"Because we all knew those guys you 'dated' were bad for you. And Oliver was always there too you know."

"What are the odds," I say sarcastically. "I bet he was furious that I dated people from opposing teams."

"Yes, that, and because he had a crush on you. Actually, I think he's had one on you since he saw you in line during your first year lining up for the sorting hat."

"How would you know?" I roll my eyes at her, playing with my fingers.

"Because I was watching him watching you."

"You people sure like to watch others, don't you."

"I was watching him because he was qutie popular and I knew him," she tells me, rolling her own eyes at me. "And because, for some reason, he seemed captivated by you. He kept pointing to his friends at you anyway."

"He was probably laughing at me - "

"No, he wasn't. Anyway, that guy has liked you for the longest time. He deserves a break."

"How would you even know he likes me? Or that he liked me back in school? He never did anything to betray his feelings for me as a friend, I hope you know."

"Well, not to your face!" she cries, shaking her head at me. "And I know. He was always watching out for you in school, and not just during quidditch. He'd always acknowledge you in the halls or in the common room - "

"Why wouldn't he - "

"He would sometimes come up to you and make small talk. During practices, he'd always glance back at you. During meal times, he'd always sneak looks at you down the table. I caught him staring at you, oblivious of his surroundings in the library like some sick puppy."

"Oh please, Alicia - "

"Remember that time when you had a a broken arm because Fred accidentally wacked you with his bat during practice? Who went completely livid on Fred? Oliver! You probably didn't notice since you were in immense pain, but he screamed himself silly at Fred, until he lost his voice. He'd never screamed at anyone until his voice was gone when Angelina broke her ankle due to Cho Chang's bumping during the match. And didn't he take you up to the Hospital Wing himself? Exactly."

"Okay, if you're so smart, then tell me this." I bite my lower lip and look at her seriously. "He's a big megastar in the quidditch world. He can get any girl he wants. He's known for his arrogance, and his god-like looks. He's dated some of the biggest witches, including a Weird Sister who was older than him. He went out with Celestina Warbeck's daughter. He's been rumoured to been with Liesl Von Hatten, the inventor of the Firebolt broom. Why the hell would he want me?"

"Why wouldn't he?"

"But why would he? I'm nothing special. I'm just a... just some sort of ordinary nothing. I'm an ordinary nothing. I live in a cramped flat that's got owl droppings all over."

"Katie, don't under-estimate yourself - "

"I have a low-key job at the Ministry of Magic where three quarters of the people don't even know of my existence - and this is just on my floor only!"

"Honestly - "

"My looks are average. My height is average. My hair's this boring brown, and my face looks dull."

"No, it doesn't. Only when you're not smiling - "

"I'm not rich. I will never be rich. I have no titles. I have no authority. I'm just another face in the crowd. Why would he like me, after all he's had? He dated a fucking Weird Sister, for Merlin's sake. Her left breast is probably worth a billion times more than I am!"

"Now that's ridiculous - "

"No, Alicia. It's not. It's not ridiculous when somebody like Oliver Wood wouldn't want somebody with nothing extraordinary like me."

"So what you're saying is that you're not good enough for him." She doesn't ask it, but she just states it. She gives me a look where her nostrils are flared.

"Basically," I murmur. I don't want to look at her.

"Okay, you're just being stupid now," she tells me, shaking her head at me. "Why would you think that?"

"Um, I think I just told you," I say, rolling my eyes.

"You are good enough for him, Don't you ever say you're not good enough for him. And you're not a nothing special girl, Katie. You are special!"

"No, I'm not - "

"No, you listen to me, Katie. I'm so sick of your self pity. Grow the fuck up, and give yourself some credit! You aren't worthless. You aren't not up to Oliver's standards. You are his equal. Who cares if he's world fucking famous! Who cares if he's so irritatingly rich! To us, he will always be Oliver Wood, former captain of our quidditch team. He will always be the boy who can't stand pickles. He will always be the boy who failed his Ancient Runes OWL because he didn't want to miss breakfast. He's going to always be Oliver Wood, the guy with the funny singing voice. If I can see past his fame and fortune, I'm pretty sure you can too. And do you think he honestly measures you up to him?"

"Yes?" I say meekly, shrinking lower into my seat. How pathetic.

"He doesnt! He doesn't care either. To him, the fame and money are just bonuses. He doesn't care if he isn't famous. He doesn't care about money, it's just a luxury. Half the time you see him, he's just dressed as shabby as we are. He hates caviar. And he's broken up with all those celebrity girlfriends he's ever had. But he keeps falling back to you. Because he likes you. He sees something in you that he can't find in any other girl. To him, you're the superstar, not the other way around. You're the shiny metal compared to Celestina Warbeck's daughter, who's the dull mineral. I know that's a bad metaphor, but don't you understand? He likes you! He likes you for you, all your faults and flaws. Not for your status or your income. That man is completely crushed on you."

"I think the more important question," Alicia says, after a moment of silence, "is whether or not you like him."

Now that's a silly question. I like Oliver perfectly well. I mean, why wouldn't I? Sure, since we started talking again, we've had about a million fights. Sure he pisses me off to the moon. Yes, he does get cheeky and arrogant. But of course I like Oliver. Despite his own flaws, I think we're pretty good friends.

Just friends...

"Katie, did you hear me?" Alicia asks, a slight irritation to her voice. "Do you like Oliver?"

"Yes, he's an excellent friend."

"Not in the friendly term," she cries, slapping me on the head. "What I mean is whether or not you see yourself in the future, in a relationship with him."

"Oh."

"Do you?"

"Alicia, don't ask me this - "

"Well, you've been bouncing around the topic for nearly a year now. Shouldn't you know by now?"

I sigh. "I don't know..."

"He likes you. It's all set out for you. He's played all his cards. It's your move next. What are you going to do?"

"Call it quits?" I flinch as my shouldrs tighten in a knot.

I don't know if I like Oliver like that. I know I've had that goofy smile plastered on my face for practically three weeks, which was the last time I saw him since he kissed me. But I don't know!

"Honestly," I continue, cutting off Alicia before she gets a chance to speak. "I can see myself in a relationship with him in the future. But on the other hand, I can't either. I don't know if I'd be happy being with him. I don't know if I can stand all the tabloid rumours that follow him constantly. I don't do well under pressure, everybody who knows me knows that. But then again, if I don't end up with him, I'm not sure if I'll be happy with the other person."

"You're too complicated, kid."

"I know." I offer a small smile which she returns. "I can't decide right now. Besides, Oliver's not even here. He's hardly ever around when I feel like talking to him. He's always got his quidditch. I don't want a one-sided relationship. It's going to blow, just like Nasuada - "

"Nasuada's relationship is off?" Alicia slices through, her eyes suddenly becoming slits. "The one with her boyfriend?"

Oh shit. "Um... yeah, but don't tell anyone, I wasn't suppossed to say anything - "

"So you're saying she's single?"

"Well, she must be, if she's no longer in a relationship - "

"She likes George, doesnt she?"

"Actually, I'm not sure on that one - "

"She's going to get him, isn't she. She's going to sink her claws into his flesh and take him from me - "

"Alicia, you two have been broken up for a long time."

"It doesnt' matter, she's going to take - "

"Alicia, it's over!" I take her hand in my own. "It's over. You just said it yourself when you came in here."

"So I suppose you were paying some bit of attention."

"Yes. And you and George are history. You said so yourself. Why dwell on him, when you've been doing so good for the past month?"

"Because I'm in love with him."

I pause midway from a sentence. Did she just say she loves him? Alicia Spinnet loves George Weasley? Now how the hell did that happen?

"Alicia, are you serious?" I ask her, my brows risen in surprise. "Seriously. Think about this, seriously."

"But I do," she asnwers quickly, sadness washing over her pretty features. "I really do."

Something's not right in this picture. "Alicia, have you ever been unfaithful to George?"

"What do you mean?" she asks, her eyes thinner than parchment.

"During the times you've been with him. Or any other guy. Everyone you've been in a relationship with. Have you been completely faithful?"

"Of course I have!" she exclaims, wrenching her hand out of my grasp."What kind of question is that?"

"I'm just wondering, because every relationship you've been in has never worked out. Honestly, Alicia. If you really love George, you wouldn't be the one breaking things up. Tell me why."

"I do love George. And I was faithful." She looks away from me, but I catch something in her voice and her eyes.

"Tell me," I urge gently, recapturing her hand. This time, she does not shy away. In fact, her hand seems limp in mine.

"You can't judge me," she says, her mouth hardly moving, and her voice becoming soft. "I know you're sometimes really judgemental, but don't judge me on this one."

Ouch to me. I am not that judgemental. But that's not the problem. Besides, I'd really like to know.

"I wont."

"Promise me."

"I promise."

"You swear?"

"Hand on heart."

"Don't you tell anyone either."

"I wont." I squeeze her hand lightly to prove my promise.

As she turns her head slowly to me, I can see the guilt over-coming her face. Her eyes look pleading. Her mouth is trembling. Her hand is slightly shaking. "Nine months ago, I met this guy."

When I don't reply to this, she goes on, though her voice is slightly unsteady. "He works with the partner company of my own. And we were placed together for a project to market this new product and all. And since we were working in such conditions, I guess we grew close. We spent all of our work hours together for two months solid. And you know how things sometimes get. One thing leads to another, and you develop feelings."

"You liked him?"

"Yes. But I didn't think it would turn out to be anything."

"But?"

"Things happen."

"What kind of things?"

"We were both seeing other people at the time. Remember Colin Ashby? I was seeing him at the time. He had a girlfriend too."

"What are you trying to say?"

She rolls her eyes at me. "What do you think I'm trying to say?"

"I don't know! That you kissed him?"

"Sure we did some of that."

"You mean you did more?" I ask, compeltely baffled. I just assumed she went making out with other people!

"Obviously. We slept together. We did stuff on the side, you know. I wanted something more to develop with him, so I broke things off with all of my boyfriends. But he kept insisting he had to stay with his own girlfriend. But he's broken up with her now. Yet for some reason, I don't want him anymore."

"How long were you two having this affair?"

"I wouldn't call it an affair," she says, shfiting uncomfrotably in her seat and clutching the table with her free hand. "It was more of a fling - "

"Trust me, I know what a fling is. Sleeping with someone else while you have significant others is not a fling. It's an affair."

"Oh, stop being so technical, Katie."

"My apologies."

"It was going on for seven monthsd, okay? But it's over now."

Seven months. I guess it's not too bad, right? I mean, at least it's not a year or anything. I know people who've had affairs for over a year, but I guess seven months can't be so bad. You're not in too deep emotionally with the other person. Then again, she did cheat on her boyfriends. And George! Oh, how heart broken he'll be if he ever finds out. She was cheating on him all through their four month relation ship and all. I don't know if I could call her a bad person or anything, since her heart wasn't entirely in any of her relationships anyway -

Wait a second. Did she just say seven months? Seven months? Seven months!

"How long did you say you were sleeping with him?" I ask, making my voice compeltely calm.

"Seven months," she sighs, raking her hand through her hair.

Seven months. That's exactly how long Jack was cheating on Nasuada for. Seven months.

Surely not. It can't be Alicia. I mean, really. What are the odds of that even happening? But then... Jack does work for this big company and he is in the marketing field... No. It can't be. Of course it can't be. How could it even be? It's impossible. Alicia didn't cheat with Jack, who was formerly Nasuada's boyfriend. I know the seven months thing is such a coincidence, but come on.

Unless...

No. It can't be.

But I have to know.

"Do you know his name?" I ask her, my grip tightening on her hand.

She gives me a weird look. "Of course I know his name. Why wouldn't I, when we worked together?"

"Could you possibly tell me his name?"

"It's Jack. Why do you want to know?"

Okay. So maybe it is Jack. Or maybe it's another Jack. Aren't there about a million Jacks out there in the world anyway? Even though I only know one, I'm sure it's quite the common name and all...

"I don't mean to pry, but can I ask you something?"

"Sure," she replies, not really paying me much attention.

"Is Jack around... say, I don't know, twenty-four?"

"Yes! Exactly twenty-four."

"Is he really tall, around six foot three?"

"Yeah, that's pretty accurate - "

"With dirty blonde hair?"

"Yes, how would you know - "

"And a low voice, with a chin dimple, a scar on his right palm, and an Irish accent?"

She gives me a suspicious stare. "How would you know?" she asks me slowly.

"Because that was Nasuada's boyfriend!" I cry, dropping her hand like an iron. "You cheated with Nasuada's boyfriend! You're the one he slept with for seven months behind her back!"

"Katie, I'm sure he wasn't Nasuada's boyfriend - "

"His name is Jack, he's twenty-four, six foot three, Irish, with blonde hair, a low voice, and a scar on his palm! That's exactly Jack!"

She stares at me with bulging eyes and a white face. "It's can't be Nasuada's boyfriend..."

"Ex-boyfriend now. Thanks to you. She's single, crying her eyes out, and feeling worthless because of you."

"Well, that's not very fair!" she says, her eyebrows snapping into a v.

"Alicia, you are the reason why Jack has broken up with Nasuada!"

"In my defense, he wasn't even into her that much!" she cries, her voice rising significatnly. "He said he didn't like her that much, and that I was the better lover! And you can't blame it all on me, since it takes two!"

"Alicia - "

"Besides, she liked George anyway, while he was with me."

"She met Geoge after your break up, actually."

She doesn't seem to be able to find words for this. Instead, she grabs her purse and walks towards the door. "I can't deal with you right now, Katie. I don't know what to think. I didn't know Jack was seeing your precious Nasuada. And to be honest, I don't feel so bad. It's not like they liked each other much anyway. He liked me."

"You're not in love with George, are you?" I ask her, following her to my door.

She turns the knob of the door and steps out. "Even if I were, I doubt that you'd believe me."

"What if I do?"

"Then I'd say you're bullshitting me."

"Do you?"

"Yes."

"But you cheat on him, break up with him, all for another guy because of sex?"

She chooses not to answer me. Instead, she musters up an icy glare and slams the door.

I can hear her kitten heels clicking away down the hall.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Parents can get annoying. We all know that. We know how stupid they can be, how misunderstasnding, how pushy, and how stubborn they are. Especially mothers. Mothers are the worst. They won't have any of your 'nonsense'; always have favourites amongst their kids, will never take your side, and is constantly trying to change your life 'for the better'.

At the moment, my own mother is being a crucial banshee.

"You have got to talk some sense into that brother of yours."

No, I do not. Kay thanks, bye.

"He is just being thick. Nobody in their right mind would be such an idiot."

Did she just call my brother an idiot? Lance, my brother, is an idiot?

"I don't understand him! I'm always trying to get him to talk to me, but he is always pushing me away! Why, why?"

And there goes her mothering instincts, along with the favouritism she puts towards my brother. Fortunately, I myself get none of it, because I'm the family witch.

"Katie Justice, are you even listening to me?"

"Yes, mother."

"Then?"

Then what? I do not comprend.

"Sorry, what?" I say, blinking hard at her. I don't know why I'm here, but I am. In a fancy muggle restaurant with both my parents in front of me.

"Has he said anything to you?" Mother gives me a desperate look, anguish controlling her wrinkles. "Has he explained himself? Why would he suddenly drop this all on us? Afterall, he was so much in love with her!"

Oh yeah, I might've forgotten to mention. My brother broke up with Geraldine.

To say the least, I am quite pleased.

It's not a bad thing, is it? Because I don't think so. She was totally a snob anyway. But so's he.

"Mum, so what if he's broken up with her?" I tell her, patting her hand across the table. "It's not like it's the end of the world or anything. Honestly mum, do you see Lance complaning? He's hardly even moved by it!"

"Of course he isn't! Your brother is a closed book! He's too man to show his feelings!"

Too man to show his feelings. Can you believe that entire sentence just came out of the woman's mouth? I know I can't.

"Maybe he's just having a mid-life crisis," my dad jokes. His words are muffled by the bread in his mouth.

"Oh, don't be ridiculous, Poalo, that's not it!" my mother snaps, shaking her head furiously. "She was perfect! Absolutely perfect! What is wrong with him?"

"Maybe he just fell out of love with her," dad replies, more to himself.

"Now that is just the most stupid answer I have ever heard!"

"Stupid, but it might be true."

"Katie, what about you?"

I give my mother a look of terror. "What about me?"

"Are you still seeing Oliver?" She gives me the most saddest look I have ever seen her muster. Who knew my mother actually cared about me. Or maybe it's just Oliver she cares about.

"Mum, you invited him over here for lunch," I say, rolling my eyes at her. "What do you think?"

"Well, he hasn't showed up yet!"

"He has work!"

"Wonderful job he has, doesn't he?" my dad murmurs, his eyes suddenly filled with reminisce. "If I had taken up on that football scholarship - "

"It's too late for regrets now, Paolo," my mother tells him in a sarcastic tone. "Katie! Where is he?"

"How should I know?"

"He is your boyfriend, after all."

No, he isn't. But let's not reveal that right now, kay? "Mother, please, just stop yelling in the restaurant and wait patiently - "

"For what?"

All three of us abruptly stop in mid-sentence as Oliver approaches us, looking quite pumped. Which I find it incredibly odd, since he's just had quidditch practice. But then it could be one of those natural adrenaline highs that I've heard my brother talking about. Still, it's weird.

And really hot.

No, it's not hot. Just because he's gotten into his seat beside you, dressed in muggle attire and looking extremely handsome, it doesn't mean he's hot. Not at all.

That's because he doesn't look hot. He just looks sexy.

Stop it.

Look at him, refilling everybody's tea and filling his own cup. What a gentleman. How extremely sexy.

Stop it!

Screw it, this stupid man looks so incredibly fucking sexy.

"Katie?"

"What!" I say, a bit too loud. Half the restaurant looks over at our table as my face goes crimson. "Sorry, what?"

"I was just asking how you were," Oliver says, one brow rising. "Are you okay?"

He's completely focused on me. How the hell am I suppossed to answer when his hotness is radiating off him and seeping into my every pore? Actually, how the hell did this even happen? You know, I wasn't like this a month ago. Just because I haven't seen the guy in an entire month, it doesn't mean I have to go all hormonal on him. I mean, all he did was kiss me. What does that mean anyway? Exactly. I shouldn't be going all red everywhere. So just stop it, Katie.

"Fine!" I exclaim, picking up my cup of tea. He watches me drain the entire of its contents in one go. "What? I'm fine, Oliver. Just fine, yourself?"

"Yes, Oliver, how are you?" My mother loads his plate with three bread rolls. "I hope your team isn't working you too hard."

"Well, practice makes perfect," he replies, smiling sweetly at her. "Besides, all the working out benefits my health... and appearance." He flashes her a wink.

"Oh, you are just the most adorable thing!" she gushes, her lovely cheeks pinking up.

"What can I say, Mrs. Bell, you've charmed me into an adorable guy."

Good grief. Is it just me, or is he flirting with my mother and not me?

Not that I care or anything.

I don't.

There's a slight pause amongst the four of us until my mother abruptly speaks up. "Maybe you could feed him a potion or something - "

"No," I tell her, agitated by her suggestion. "I refuse to potion my brother."

"What's wrong with your brother?" Oliver asks me, chewing on his bread. "I always assumed he was all proper."

"He's broken off his engagement to Geraldine!" mother cries, throwing her hands on her face. "How could he? She was absolutely perfect!"

"Isn't she that really smart one - "

"Yes." I roll my eyes at Oliver's question. Why is it that every time someone says 'Geraldine', the other person always asks if she's 'that really smart one'? Geez. She's not that smart. Honestly.

"Why'd he do it?" Oliver asks to no one inparticular. Not that he's really paying attention. In my opinion, I don't think he gives a rat's ass about Lance.

"Maybe he fell out of love," my dad says, forking up his salad.

He is immediately slapped on the arm by my mpther. "Don't say that, Paolo! It's not true - don't listen to him, Oliver. It's not true. Lance is just going through a mid-life crisis - "

"Isn't he only twenty-five?" Oliver's brows are furrowed.

"How did you know how old Lance is?"

"They're the same age, mother," I say tonelessly, patting my father's hand. "So technically, at twenty-five, it's not mid-life."

"Fine then!" my mother huffs, her cheeks turning red. "Then he's having an identity-crisis."

I give her a look. "Okay, mum. What the hell..."

"Or maybe there's nothing wrong with our son. Maybe he really did fall out of love with her. Or maybe, he never really was in love with her, and he was just trying to make us happy." My father's words ring amongst the four of us gravely. I always knew that out of my parents, my father's the wise one, and my mother's the... dramatic one.

How stereotypical of my parents.

"Of course he was in love with her," my mother says, shaking her head at her husband. "Don't be silly - "

"Stop telling me I'm silly!" my father accuses, a look of high annoyance on hsi face. "Stop patronizing me! It's like you don't even hear me - oh wait, of course you don't. You're always jabbing that mouth of yours everywhere."

Another silences goes true at our table as my father's face hardens. My mother, on the other hand, looks quite embarassed, and avoids eye contact with anyone. But Oliver doesn't seem to mind. In fact, it's as if he's immune to my parents' behaviour. There he goes, downing that soup of his.

"All I'm saying is that he's having a crisis - " my mother starts again, but dad interrupts her.

"And all I'm saying is that he's not having a crisis, but just wants to get out of something he doesn't really want. Hear me out, Vecita. For once, just hear me out."

"I think Mr. Bell has a point," Oliver speaks up, swalling the rest of his bread. I watch in half disgust at the ginormous lump going down his throat. But for some reason, it's still so hot. "Maybe your son really isn't in love with her. Maybe he just wanted to impress the both of you, and now he's just figured out that he can't do it. Or maybe something happened in their relationship. Maybe he fell in love with someone else. Or maybe she cheated on him. Who knows."

"What a bitch!" my mother exclaims. Oliver quickly jumps out of his seat looking scandalized. I freeze midway to grabbing a bun. My father doesn't seem to notice the sudden outbreak. How strange. My mother never swears. And here I though she liked Oliver and all, and she calls him a bitch just for speaking up about his own opinion - "

"Did I give you a fright, dear?' my mother asks Oliver, her face going pink. "I'm terribly sorry. But I never thought of Geraldine cheating on my little boy... Come to think of - "

"I'm pretty sure she didn't, mum," I tell her, making a grab for the bun.

"Why do you think so?"

My mother. Honestly. "Mum, have you ever seen Lance? Okay, I know Geraldine's practically perfect and shit - "

"Don't swear, Katie - "

"Don't be such a hypocrite, mother," I bite back. I can feel Oliver shaking with silent giggles. My father is hiding his smile behind his spoon. "Anyway, she's perfect, but so is Lance. Don't call me gross or anything, but my brother is quite... good looking. And he's smart, and tall. Why would she want to jeopardize a relationship with her twin?"

"Maybe that's why they've broken up!" Oliver snaps his fingers at me, a face a triumph. "Maybe they're sick of each other because they're so alike! I mean, if I married myself, I'd want to commit suicide."

"Nonsense! Paolo and I are very alike," my mother says to him. "It's impossible - "

"We're not that alike, dear," my father murmurs, but his comment goes unheard.

"I just don't believe your logic, Oliver."

Oh, did she just say that? I quickly glance at Oliver, who seems to be fine.

"I respect that, Mrs. Bell. But that's just what I think. Besides, everyone says opposites attract. I mean, weren't you and Mr. Bell on one level, completely at differences?"

"Yes, well - " my mother flusters, giving my fahter a bashful grin. "Of course, and I'm sure Lance and Geraldine - "

"Mother, are you kidding me?" I scoff, choking on a piece of ham. Oliver gives me a quick whack on the back. Immediately, I hunch over the table. How I hate his strength sometimes. ..

"Are you okay?" he asks, looking alarmed. "Sorry - I forgot how weak you are - "

"I'm fine!" I exclaim, gulping down water. "And I'm not that weak." I turn back to my mother who's looking at me expectantly. "Lance and Geraldine are completely alike. They both like the same cereal, have the same favourite colour, walk in the same foot patterns, have the same routines in life, and are both scientists of some sort. Really, they even look alike!"

"It's true," says my father, patting my mothers shoulder. "Don't worry, Vecita. He'll tell us one day."

My mother gives a snort. "Unlikely. He hasn't told us anything since he was thriteen. All he does is tell his sister." My mother looks sulkily at her plate, until something snaps. "His sister!"

I give her a suspicious glare. "What about his sister?"

"I think your mother's asking you to find out what the situation is with your borther and his fiance," Oliver comments, wiping his mouth with his napkin.

No shit, Sherlock. "Leave him alone, mum. He'll come out of the cloest when he wants to."

"Your brother is gay?" she shrieks, clutching dad's hand in terror. "Oh, Katie, please tell me he's not gay - "

"What - I didn't even mean it like that!"

"Mrs. Bell, do you have a problem with gay people?" Oliver questions, completely serious.

"N-no," my mother stutters, completely taken aback by the remark.

"Because they're completely normal, just like us. Or maybe they're even more normal, because unlike us, they're not kidding themselves."

Is it wrong to want to laugh at that last bit?

"I have nothing against homosexual beings," my mother replies stiffly. "I just don't want my son to be gay."

"Why not?"

"Because it's not how nature works!"

"Good grief..." my father sighs, rubbing his temples together. "There's nothing wrong with gays, Vecita. If our son is gay, then we'll let him be gay. It might even help him with a better fashion sense."

"There's nothing wrong with the way Lance dresses," I say, raising a brow. "Sure, he looks like a lumberjack, but isn't that what women go for?"

"Is that what you go for?" Oliver asks, curiosity getting to him. "Because I don't own anything... plaid."

"No, it's not what I go for," I tell him, rolling my eyes. "You look fine, Oliver."

No, that's a lie and you know it. He looks fucking jumpable.

"Just wondering," he says softly, smiling with satisfaction. Honestly.

"So do you really think I should leave Lance alone?" my mother asks, wringing her hands together.

"Yes!" my father groans into his hands. "For the love of french toast, Vecita, yes!"

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"You're fucking with me."

"No, I'm not."

You don't know this, but I'm secretly wishing I am. Right now. In this very cubicle.

"You're joking!"

"I'm not!"

"Of course she's not!"

"I'm really not."

Here we are, Oliver, George, and I, gathered around my cubicle, the following afternoon. I don't know what it is about my cubicle, but everyone always seems to hang around here. In this confined, boring space. Compared to a lovely mansion, or a gigantic joke shop. I was told they both like modesty.

"He cheated on her." Oliver repeats what I've just told him a minute ago. "But she's so nice! And she's so cool! And she's so pretty- "

"Gee, Oliver, I hdan't notice," I say sarcastically, biting my tongue.

He gives me a cheeky smile. "Are you jealous?"

"Doubtful."

"You're jealous!"

"What would I even be jealous of?"

"That I think your best friend is prettier than you!"

What did he say?

I give him a glare. "You're such a fucking jerk. And my best friend isn't only her. It's George too."

I hate him. I absolutely hate him. I can't believe I thought about having sex with him a minute ago. I am completely livid.

"Relax, Katie," he laughs, "I'm just joking."

I give him a mock laugh. "I'm so impressed with your joke. Really, I am." I turn my attention to George. "Hey, are you feeling okay?"

"Fine," he utters, barely heard. "Just fine."

"What are you thinking?"

"Just... regular things I guess."

"Like what?"

"Inventory, stocks..."

"Are you thinking about Nasuada?" Oliver asks, breaking my streak of questions.

"Of course I am," George answers, looking far away.

"What about her?" I say before Oliver can. "Is it about Jack?"

George breaks out of his trance. "Why would I be thinking of another guy?"

"You think about me once in a while, don't you?" Oliver asks, wiggling his eyebrows. "Because I'm dang sexy."

There's a slight pause until George speaks. "Wow, did you actually just say those words?"

"I was just trying them out to see if they sounded cool. Geez." George and I both look at Oliver who seems a bit cross.

"Hey Kates, were you turned on?" Oliver asks me.

I give him a glare. "My name isn't Kates. It's Katie. And no, I wasn't turned on. In fact, I feel embarassed for you."

"Oh don't be such a sour cat. It's only you, me and George in here anyway."

"Yeah, and like I said, I feel embarassed for you."

"Are you still ticked off with my earlier comment?"

"Don't talk to me right now."

"Aren't you the one who always says we're not dating? So you have no reason getting mad at me."

What is up with this lard and talking logistics?

"I'll discuss this matter after we talk about Nasuada," I hiss at him.

"Who'd he get it on with?" Oliver asks me.

"Oliver, that's a pretty inappropriate question - " I start, but George gives me a look of deep interest as well.

"I'm not going to tell you who did it," I say, crossing my arms. "It's none of your business."

"Does Nasuada know who did it?" George asks.

"No, she doesn't."

"But you do," Oliver states, cocking up an eyebrow. "How is that possible?"

"Don't question my knowledge!" I snap, throwing a pen at him. I throw another one at George. "Don't be such nosy pricks. I'll tell you when I want to."

Which is never.

"Is it too early to ask her out on a date?" George pipes up, a small smile on his face.

God, men are so inconsiderate of others' feelings except their own. "Of course it's too early. She's still crying over it, I hope you know. Let her mull over him."

"But he was a jackass."

"I know, but she liked him."

"But I thought she liked George," Oliver says, scratching his head.

"Oh, catch up with the story if you want to be part of it!" I tell him, launching another pen at him. Damn his Keeper skills! My pens will never poke out one of his eyes!

"Why are you suddenly so mean?" he asks me, brows furrowing.

"Go figure it out yourself!"

"Fine! I will!" he says, flicking a pen at my nose. "And your quidditch skills are deteriorating!" And with that, he stomps out of my cubicle.

George stares at the entrance and then at me. "Is there something going between you two that I don't know of?"

"No!"

"Come on, Katie. You can tell me. We tell each other everything anyway. No need to be embarassed. You already knew I shat my pants when Fred came in holding a ferret in Third Year."

I roll my eyes at him. "Nothing's between Oliver and I."

He gives me a hard stare. "Katie, don't be so full of shit. Everybody knows you both like each other. Just get on with it already."

"Okay, whatever man. This conversation isn't suppossed to be about my love affairs. It's about you and Nasuada."

"Actually, there's nothing much to cover anymore," he says, tapping a finger to his chin. "She broke up with the guy because she found out he was cheating on her with some mysterious woman. She's heartbroken and still mending, ergo, I've got to wait a couple of days - maybe even a few weeks - until I can ask her out. Hopefully, no one else does, because let's face it - she's pretty hot. So with that done, it's your turn to share."

"There's nothing to share - "

"I said don't be so full of shit."

"But there's nothing - "

"Don't be so full of shit."

"Okay fine! We had dinner with my parent!"

"Okay, everyone knows that too. What happened afterwards? He kissed you, didn't he?"

I raise an eyebrow. "How do you know?"

"You've got that face on."

"What face!"

"That face of yours. Whenever you receive your first kiss from any guy you're dating, you have this weird... perkiness. Some sort of glow. Not the pregnant kind that Angelina gets. But you've got some sort of inner light beaming at everyone."

"Whatever."

"But you're angry with him right now," George conitnues, ignoring my comment. "I doubt he meant that you're ugly compared to Nasuada. You aren't."

"Thank you," I sniff, crossing my arms again. "It's nice to hear."

"Maybe you should stop being such a sulky woman, suck it up, and tell him you like him."

"Hey!" I cry, giving him a swift kick on the foot. "I'm not a sulky woman! And I'll tell him when I actually do."

Which is now. But that's my secret to keep for myself.

"You do now, so tell him. He's already told you. Don't be such a pussy. The bad kind."

"George, I can't."

He gives me a look. "Why not?"

"Because I'm not sure."

"What aren't you sure about?"

Ugh. I have to explain myself. I throw my hands into my hair. "I don't know! Sure, okay. Everybody loves Oliver. I mean, seriously, who wouldn't? He's got billions of fans. All my friends like him, Everybody knows him. My parents are in love with him. The problem is me. I don't know if I like him that much yet."

"But you do!"

"Stop saying that! I know I like him. But I'm just not... to that level yet."

"What level?"

"The level where I want a relationship. Look, George. I've only realized that I liked him a week ago. I'm not going to jump into something - "

"Someone might jump before you do and then it might be too late."

"But I don't want to risk my friendship with him on something that might fail."

"Why do you expect it to fail?" he asks me, putting his feet on my desk. I instantly brush them off, but he puts them back. "Every relationship you've had, you always expected it to fail. You're always like that. Those guys wouldn't be flings if you didn't doubt yourself so much!"

"Those wre just casual dates - "

"That could've turned into a full fledged relationship if you'd let it."

"George, honestly - "

"No, Katie. Honstly. I know you. I know your habits and your personality. I've never said anything every time you've dumped a guy. I've always been there, waiting to get drunk and merry with you. But I personally think Oliver is the best catch for you. And you're the best catch for him. I refuse to stand aside and let you ruin yourself because of your mindless inner battles."

"Give me some time."

"You've had practically a year."

"Untrue. It's only Frebruary right now. It'll be a year in May."

"Which is your birthday."

"I suppose."

"His birthday's next month."

"Wonderful."

"Come on, Katie. Look alive. Why wouldn't you want Oliver? He's got one point true - he's dang sexy."

I give a laugh at the comment. "I know he's dang sexy. But I'm just so plain compared to him."

"Don't underestimate yourself. You're freakin hot to him."

"How do you know?"

"He told me. Unfortunately, I had to endure him talking about the physical attributes of my best friend while trying to down a glass of protein shake."

"Hey!" I exclaim, shoving him. "What'd he say?"

George gives me a cringe. "Are you actually asking me to repeat his worship towards you?"

"Yes."

"No."

"Please, George? If it weren't for me, you wouldn't even have met Nasuada!"

He glares at me. "Fine."

"Okay, shoot."

"He said the following: Doesn't Katie Bell have the biggest ass? It's so flouncy."

"Be serious, George!"

"I am!"

"No you're not. Now tell me the truth. Please!"

"He said: I can't believe after all these years, I still haven't asked her out. George, have you checked her out? She's got the most amazing cleavage!"

I turn red and laugh. "Did he really say that?"

"Unfortunately."

"What else did he say?"

"He said he liked how your hips are curvy."

"Really?" I say, more to myself. Instinctively, I put my hands on my hips. They are rather curvy, aren't they?

"And he likes the fact that your breasts aren't overly large because it might impair your quidditch playing."

This time I burst with giggles. "He said that?"

"Yes."

"Oh, Oliver. What a guy."

"Exactly. So please, for Merlin's sake, go shag him so he can stop telling me how much he loves your woman parts."

"He might tell you about our sex life though."

"I'd rather hear about sex moves than the way your breasts resemble the perky shape of clementines."

"Seriously?"

"Wouldn't you?"

"Not really."

"Well, with sex moves, we might discuss what turns women on."

"Okay, let's just stop this conversation right now, because I'm getting highly uncomfortable." I scratch my arm consciously and fidget.

""Okay. Then I suppose you'll have to find him right now and apologize to him," George says, smiling at me.

"I'm not apologizing! I did no wrong!"

"You were pretty bitter back there. And you launched two pens on him."

"He's a Keeper, it has no affect on him."

"Not physically. Go on, Katie. I think he's really crushed."

"But - "

"I'm afriad I'll have to go now. Fred's shift is almost done and the new girl we hired is a bit on the slow side. See you later, Kates."

"It's not Kates, it's Katie," I call after him, but he's already gone.

Men.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

This is so weird. Like, out of this world weird. I cannot believe I am actually here.

Me! Here! In Ludo Bagman's office. Honestly, never in a million centuries would I have thought that he'd actually take notice on me.

Of course, I really wouldn't be standing here if it weren't for Oliver. The dumb goat forgot to put on his disguise after stomping out of my space. And instantly, everyone was all over him. Well, just Bagman, because Bagman got to him first.

"I want to offer you a job, Ms. Bell!" Bagman announces to me. I'm currently facing him in the chair opposite his, a wide desk between us. This place is like... a squillion times larger than my cramped cubicle. Talk about horrible distribution of work status. I swear, this work palce is becoming a communist party.

"Actually, sir, I already have a job." This is me, biting my lip, quavering against my mega boss. I am such a turd.

He gives me a confused look. "Y'do? Where? I will double their pay!"

Well, this is going to be a hoot. "No, sir. I actually work for you."

Even more confused. "You do? I've never seen you before in my life..."

"She's your junior secretary," Oliver pipes up, sitting beside me on the chair. Geez. He just made a mistake on my job position!

"Well, no," I continue, swalling against my dry throat. "I'm actually your secretary's secretary's junior secretary."

There's a slight pause until he spews out an agressive, "What!"

"Clive Hester's your secretary. And Owen Boister is Clive's secretary. Do you follow?"

"So you're telling me your name isn't 'Katie Bell', but in fact, 'Owen Boister'?"

I'd scream, but everyone knows it's courtesy not to scream at your mega boss employer. "No, I'm Owen Boister's junior secretary."

"Junior?"

"Boister's got two secretaries under him. I'm at the bottom of the chain."

"But you're such a bright young lass!"

At this, I remain silent. It's true. Five years ago, I did show much potential, aside from being cursed for half the school year. But still man. I was smart! I deserve some credit.

"She's really a great person to have on your team, Ludo," Oliver says earnestly. "She can do so many things! She's a great writer, editor, and interviewer!"

Actually, I'm none of those things. Well, maybe a good writer and editor. But honestly, that's all.

"She can pretty much give the department all the imrpovement you've wanted for years," Oliver finishes. He gives me an encouraging nod to verify the information he's passed about me.

"But you're a secretary," Bagman says, a look of doubt in his eyes. "Can a secretary actually... do all those things?"

"A secretary is always doing paper work," I answer, fighting the urge to roll my eyes. "Which indicates that I'm an editor. I've also written a few pieces for you, sir."

"You have, have you? I don't remember ever assigning you anything..."

"Well, Hester passed it onto Boister who passed it onto Jason, who passed it onto me."

"Who's Jason?"

"Boister's senior secretary."

"Have I met him?"

"He's the one who looks gay," Oliver tells him, picking up a lollipop from Bagman's candy bowl. "The twenty-something guy who has that weird walk and the really good hair."

"Oh! That fellow! Jameson?"

"That's him," I answer dully. "So I write and edit. I'm pretty sure I'm a good interviewer - "

"Pretty sure?" Bagman cuts in, his eyes going narrow. "You're not completely positive?"

"Well, I've never interviewed anyone - "

"But she has a way with grilling others," Oliver says immediately. "And us quittich players usually become comfortable in her company. I mean, nobody being interviewed would release information to someone they feel uncomfortable with, yeah? She already knows Alan."

"Bellesque?" Bagman asks, almost a whisper. He turns to me. "You've met Alan Bellesque?"

I look skeptically at him. "Sure I have. Haven't you?"

He gapes at me. "Heavens no, lass! I haven't met Alan Bellesque. He's one of the hardest people to catch, let alone speak with! In my whole entire lifetime, I've probably only been in his company twice. And we were on opposite ends of the room most of the time. I've barely spoken a word to him, except the usual greeting. But you've met him! How?"

"At a party," I shrug. "He's quite a lovely person."

Bagman looks over to Oliver, aghast. "None of my staff have ever met Alan Bellesque."

"Technically," Oliver says, pointing out a finger, "she's your staff and she's met Alan. So one of your staff has met him. Just speaking... in technical terms. And Katie knows me on a personal level. We were friends back in school. There's another advantage of promoting her."

Wait a second! I never asked for a promotion!

Okay, well not to his face. But still, I never asked for a promotion. And here's Oliver, going around to super boss Ludovic Bagman, demanding I get a promotion. It's rude, sudden, and... it's not like he can actually get me one! Even though he is a big quidditch star, he can't go demanding job positions for other people! It's just not cool!

"Done," Bagman says, smiling over at me.

What the hell? Okay, really. What the hell did this guy just say?

"Welcome to the team, Ms. Bell."

"She was already part of the team," Oliver says, but I barely hear him. "I think what you meant to say is, congratulations on your new job as Editor in Chief and being a Head interviewer."

Gosh, isn't that asking too much? And geez, it's not even me who's asking for it!

"Now hold on there, Oliver," Bagman says, brows furrowing. "I never agreed to Editor in Chief and Head interviewer. I just said promotion."

"So you just want to promote her to another secretorial job?"

"My very own secretary!" Bagman beams over at me, his boyish grin making me gag.

"So what you're saying is that you want her to go from being a secretary to another secretary, and demote Hester down a level, as well as Boister, decrease their pay, stir up huge mayhem in your office, and become one of the most hated Heads in the entire Ministry?" Gosh, that Oliver sure has some choice of words.

"Well, no," Bagman stutters, scratching his head. "What do you want me to do then, upset some of my staff to have the lass become Editor in Chief and Head interviewer? We've already got those!"

"Then I'm afraid you'll just have to find someone else as brilliant as Katie to mold into your Department. She'll quit!"

Oh. My. God.

He's totally putting me into a bad light. He's going to make me lose my job! Then I'll never have another job because it's not like Bagman's going to give me any good references for future employers. I'm going to be the subject of gossip in the entire United Kingdom wizarding world! What am I going to do?

I'm about to say something, until Oliver shoots me one of those 'trust me' looks.

"With the loss of her," Oliver continues, his voice going up notches on the serious tone, "you'll also face the loss of me. With the loss of me, you will never gain any liking or respect from any of the quidditch teams of the United Kingdom, as well as the rest of Europe. Would you want to jeopardize that, all because you can't be generous enough to give my friend here a decent job, compared to the lowest one she's held for five years?"

Okay, my job isn't that low.

Fine!

"You can't do that!" Bagman exclaims, all the colour draining from his face. "That's just ridiculous - "

"Is it?" Oliver asks, with a completely straight face. "I don't think so. But if you can't agree - "

"Of course I can't agree!"

He gives Bagman a cold stare. "Alright then. That's just fine." He stands up from his chair. "You will regret this later on. Well, actually, by tomorrow. By then, I'm pretty sure I can convince the entire quidditch world to turn against you. And without quidditch, your Department will be left with nothing but Gobstone challenges, and the occasional Exploding Snaps reports. Come on, Katie. Let's go."

I freeze in my chair. My knuckles grow white as I clutch to the arms of it. This can't be happening. No, this isn't happening at all. I can't be out of a job! Just like that! No, that's just stupid. I mean, I can't really be fired for this, can I? It wasn't even me giving out all those demands! All I did was just sit there!

"Get up, Katie," Oliver says. I feel strong hands lift me up from under my arms into a standing position.

"Oliver, I can't lose my job!" I hiss into his ear.

"Shut up, okay?" he whispers back, not looking at me. "I know what I'm doing. Just trust me! I will get you the job you deserve!"

"Well, we're going now, Ludo," Oliver announces, dragging me towards the door. "Have yourself a wonderful life. Don't stress out too much if you get hate mail."

He says I should trust him. How the fuck am I suppossed to trust some guy who just cost me my job? This isn't cool! He wouldn't even care, since he's making gazillions! Thanks to him, I won't even have an income! Oh Merlin, I'm going to die. My parents are going to hate me even more, and I am going to die. I'm going to die without a husband, without kids, and without anything. All I have are two owls and a bloody fish that can't even swim! This is not how I wanted to go! I won't even have enough to afford a good ceremony for my passsing. Oh god, this is me, freaking out. I have no job. If I have no job, it means I have nothing.

I have nothing.

"Just a few more steps and we're out of this office, Katie. Come on, be reasonable and move your feet!"

How can I be reasonable if I've just lost my job! I don't want to take these few steps and get out of his office! It just means that I'll forever be turning away from the only job I'll ever get and then I won't have anything! I don't want to have nothing! I want a life of luxury and pampering! I don't care how materialistic I'm being, but I want to be able to buy things! Like bath sets and clothes and books -

"Wait!" An ear splintering screech comes from behind us.

I quickly glance at Oliver who's smiling as if he has a secret. He nods, and we both turn around.

"Yes?" Oliver asks courteously. His hands are still gripped around my shoulders.

"Don't leave!" Bagman cries, running over to us and slamming his office door shut. "I'm sure we can compromise!"

"But you've already said - "

"Forget what I've said. We're all compromising people, aren't we? Let's have a seat and discuss - "

"No," Oliver states firmly. Bagman stiffens as he gapes at us. "It's either Editor in Chief and Head interviewer, or we leave."

Oliver remains silent as we both watch Bagman. His eyes are swivelling around the room and growing beady. His forehead is crimson, and beads of sweat emerge from it. His hands tremble.

"Well?" Oliver asks, after a minute. "What's your decision?"

When we receive no answer, he says, "Okay then. We're leaving now. Don't try stopping us again - "

"Fine!" Bagman shrieks, rushing to us. "Fine! Editor in Chief and Head interviewer!"

"Seriously?" I ask in disbelief. "Honestly, sir!"

"Yes!" he replies, but frowning. "I'm afraid you might have to share both positions with another though."

"That's fine, as long as she gets the same pay as them, and double since she's working both jobs," Oliver says, his voice hard. " As well as opportunities for raises. What do you say, Ludo?"

Bagman gives a sigh and rubs his eyes. "Does it look like I have a choice?"

"Not really." Oliver's hands squeeze my shoulders.

He got me a job. He got me a job!

And not just some old crummy job. A job that's worth reporting to work every morning! A job that's fun and exciting! A job that I actually like! And not just a job. Two jobs! Double the pay! Chances of getting a raise!

"You'll start next monday, Ms. Bell," Bagman tells me, heaving himself back over to his chair. "Report to Owen Boister tomorrow morning."

This is so great! "Yes sir! You won't regret this sir!"

He really won't!

"See?" Oliver whispers. "You didn't lose a job. You just dropped it and gained another two."

I give him a smile of thanks, which he accepts with satisfaction. As we walk towards the exit to the office, I quickly turn around.

"Mr. Bagman?" I say timidly, cluitching my fingers.

He gives me a raised eyebrow. "Yes, Ms. Bell?"

"I'd appreciate it too if you promoted Jason Jameson as well."

His jaw drops within a second. "I've just given you two powerful positions, Ms. Bell! That's generous enough!"

"I know you have, sir. And I'm eternally grateful! But Jason Jameson is practicallly like me. He deserves a promotion as much as I do!"

"Ms. Bell - "

"Really, sir! You don't have to promote him to something high and mighty, but please, just consider giving him a better position! He really deserves it! He's so hard working - "

"Fine!" he exclaims, going red in the face. "I'll assign him to a job tomorrow! Are you happy?"

I smile brightly at him. "Beyond happy, sir. I'm ecstatic!"

"Do you want me to promote Boister as well?" he asks sarcastically.

"Actually, no. He deserves to know what it feels like to be at the bottom of the chain for once."

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"I can't believe you had the guts to do that."

After literally skipping out of the Ministry building in an elated manner, Oliver had offered to buy me dinner as a congratulations gift. Of course, I offered to treat him since it was his doing. But since he's male, he refused my offer.

"Well, I just wanted you to like your job," Oliver replies, stabbing at his plate. "Everyone always says the more you enjoy what you do, the more productive you'll be."

"Sometimes, everyone is wrong," I mutter through a mouthful.

"Take a look at me, I play quidditch, I love being a Keeper. Therefore, I'm great at the game, am really famous, and make lots of money."

"I suppose a good job makes a happy person."

"It does. I never want to retire. But I think I'd have to when I get old. But I'll still be good looking."

"And still arrogant."

"I'm arrogant for the both of us," he says lightly, his face in a smirk.

"Okay, first of all," I tell him, pointing my fork at him, "I don't need to be arrogant, or have anyone be arrogant for me. Second of all, what do you mean, you're doing it for the both of us?"

"You know."

"No, I don't. Englighten me."

"When we grow old, I'll be the sassy one."

"When we grow old."

"Of course. Our kids will have my sassiness and your prudey no-nonsense attitude."

"We're getting married?" I ask, half choking on some spinach.

"Obviously," he says, rolling his eyes. "In just a few short years, I'll be able to charm my way into getting you married to me. And then we'll have three kids - "

"Hey, isn't it the woman's job to be thinking about marriage and the number of kids she'll have?"

"Well, in our case, I still have to manage to woo you properly. So I'm thinking ahead."

"How the hell can our kids be sassy and uptight?"

"I dunno. But it'll happen."

"What if it doesnt?"

He gives me a strange look. "Why wouldn't it happen?"

"I'm just saying - "

"It'll happen. Don't worry about it."

I make a noise that he ignores. "Anyway, I'm sorry about earlier this day. I do think you're rather pretty actually."

"Please, Oliver. You don't have to lie - "

"But I'm not."

I put down my fork and riase my eyebrows. "Do you actually think I believe you when you say I'm pretty? Because I'm don't."

"Beauty is in the eye of the beholder."

"I'm not your type, I hope you know. Appearance-wise anyway."

"Yes, you are."

"Prove it."

He takes a sip from his glass of water slowly and deliberately. "Okay fine. I'll tell you. But afterwards, you'll have to believe me."

"Deal."

"Now, I have nothing against blondes. In fact, my own mother is a blonde. But I'm not exactly attracted to blondes. Maybe redheads. But not blondes. I stick with the brunettes. And people with almost-black hair too. They just look more exotic compared to blondes."

"My hair's nothing special."

"You may not think so. But I like the dark shade and how it sort of waves at the ends."

Well, that's awfully nice, since I'm not a big fan of my hair. "What else?"

"You're not under five foot five."

I laugh at this comment. "Who isn't uner five foot five?"

"You'd be surprised," he comments, making a face. "Practically everybody is under five-five."

"What's wrong with being short? Most guys I know love having short girlfriends. They claim its cute."

"Considering the fact that I'm a fairly tall person, it would look extremely strange to walk around the street with someone who comes up to my elbow. Okay, that's exaggerating, but you know what I mean. And besides, it's hard to do stuff with them if they're short."

I snort in my drtink. "Did you just say do stuff with them?"

"Yeah..." He shakes his head. "Once, I went out with a girl who was five foot three. We went to see a concert - the Flaming Wands - but she was so short, she couldn't even catch a glimpse of the band. So I had to spend the entire time lifting her on my shoulders. It was brutal."

"But you're so strong. Surely it wouldn't make a difference to you."

"You try carrying a fair few hundred pounds on your shoulders for four hours straight."

I give a chuckle. "So concerts are out with short people. You can still do stuff with them."

"It's hard to kiss them because we both can only stretch so much. And in bed, it's easier with a taller person because you can reach things and have a better grasp - "

"Okay!" I cry, holding up my hands. "I don't want to know about your sexual romps with women."

"I'm just saying it's easier to reach."

"I get it. Please, talk about something else."

He takes a moment to think about his next comment. "I like your friends."

"Oliver, my friends are your friends. Honestly!"

"Exactly. I won't have to feel uncomfortable and try to pretend I like them, when I truly do."

"That's it for the reasons why you like me?"

"No," he says, smiling at me. "You're funny."

"Please. Don't flatter me."

"Funny and sarcastic. The right amount of both."

"Okay, you're finished now, right?"

"Katie, there about about a million hundred things I like and love about you," he tells me, leaning his head on his palm. "If you ask me to tell you every little bit, we might have to stay here forever."

"I'm not big on pick-up lines."

"It wasn't a pick-up line. Or any type of line."

I remain silent as I feel my face grow warm. "That's awfully sweet of you, Oliver."

"I come dipped in sugar."

"Do you honestly think I'm going to marry you?" I ask, after a slight pause on the conversation. "Because if you ask me, I highly doubt - "

"You're going out to dinner with me next sunday," he breaks through, smiling open-mouthed. "And no, that wasn't a question. It was more of a statement. Or demand. Both work. But you're having dinner with me on sunday."

"But I have something planned with Angelina - !"

"Great, I'll tell her you cancelled. She'll understand."

"Oliver, isn't it a bit sudden and rude to just cancel out for me - "

"She'll understand."

"What if she doesn't?"

"Trust me, Katier. She'll understand."

"But what if I don't want to go?" I ask him, narrowing my eyes. "Have you even considered my feelings?"

"Of course I have," he says dismissively. "I'm completely sure that you want to have dinner with me. So you really don't haver anything to complain about."

Okay. He caught me. I just thought he'd ask me. And then I would've made this big show about how I'll consider it and all. Then I would finally give him my anserr of yes, and we would both smile serenly at each other. Blast him and turning the tables around.

"Great!" he exclaims, whipping out an agenda with snitches on the front. "I'll pick you up at seven. I'm bringing you back to my place."

"What, are you going to cook for me or something?"

"Yes."

I laugh. "Oliuver, since when do you cook?"

"I've always cooked," he tells me, looking at me as if I were a stranger. "Since I was about twelve."

"Yeah, okay."

"Don't worry. You'll admire me afterwards and beg me to cook for you for the rest of your life. Lucky for you, your wish will be granted since we'll be getting married in approximately three years from next month. Then I actually can cook for the rest of your life."

Okay, what the fuck? He timed the years we're going to spend dating?

Wow, what the hell. Am I actually believing we'll be dating?

"Oliver, you can't time a relationship."

"But I didn't. I went to a Seer."

"Don't tell me you actually believe in them? Most of them are a bunch of phonies anyway."

He gives me a secretive smile. "Well, we'll just have wait and see about that. Dinner at seven next sunday, Kates. Don't you forget."

A bite my tongue as a seeth at him. "My name is Katie. Call me Katie!"

He flashes me yet another grin. How is it that a guy who can make me feel so high and then so infuriated in three seconds become my husband in three years?

a/n: ok so! i said an update between march and april. technically, i have met my own deadline, because it's april. not may, but april.

if any of you find it difficult to read long chapters, i suggest that you don't read at all, or take a few breaks between parts of the chapter.

anyway, i'm sorry for not updating any later, but i tried! i rewrote this thing three times (seriously) but was never happy with it. i'm actually quite pleased with this one. if you disagree, please tell me. i don't mind. i really don't.

anyway, twelfth grade totally sucks, especially when you're taking writer's craft/history/world-issues. each subject requires me to write a 10page essay. writers craft even demands me to write a 20page historical short story as well as essay. so i honestly don't know when the next chapter will be coming. but rest assured, it will come before june. ok, so i'm lying. i can't promise that one. but i'll promise to try.

so i went to see lily allen yesterday, and she's pretty good live. but so is the bird and the bee. go download some of their songs, they're pretty hot. especially their drummer, joey waronker.

ok, peez out, review (SERIOUSLY SINCE I WORKED SO HARD ON THIS MUHFUGGUH) have a wonderful long easter weekend, keep up the school work, and... ok that's all i got. bye kids.