"You did brilliantly, Katie. Well done," Roger said, landing beside me on the wet grass, beaming at me. He dropped his broom at our feet and hugged her. "You won," he whispered. I laughed, the sound carefree and clear. It was the first time it had sounded like that in a long time. Roger drew back and pecked my cheek. I could hear Lee Jordan commenting through the uproar from the Gryffindor side of the stands.

"...the newest couple at Hogwarts. Gracious loser, Davies is. Could teach Flint a thing or two ..."

"C'mon Katie! Party in the Common Room!" George yelled at me from half-way across the pitch. I smiled back at him and nodded, before turning back to Roger.

"One of the stars," I said, motioning to myself, laughing. "I'm really sorry you lost."

"Well, I'm not," he said in an undertone, so that his team mates wouldn't hear. He winked. "Love you," he whispered and kissed me softly. I smiled, and he let me go, picking up both of our discarded brooms. "I'll take them to the lock-up. You get to your party. Have fun."

"Come," I demanded.

He glanced at the retreating backs of his sullen team mates. "It's a Gryffindor victory. I have no right to be there, and I think I might need to pep-talk my team. Some of them look like they should be on suicide watch." He grinned and brushed my cheek with his knuckles. "Go have fun. I'll owl you later."I reluctantly left, following far behind my team.

When I got to the Common Room, I was greeted with an explosion of sound – literally. Fireworks were screaming, and people were screaming, but loudest of all, of course, were the Weasley twins. They were standing on the couches, handing out bottles of butterbeer and Honeydukes sweets out to the whole Gryffindor population, it seemed. My smile became permanent on my face when I saw Percy Weasley glaring at them, trying to get them off the chairs, and ask them 'how in the hell did you get all this at this hour without breaking school rules? I'm not afraid to tell our mother, boys!'

Angelina and Alicia rushed up to me and hugged me. "We won!" they were screaming, and I joined in too.

"Come on, Katie. Let's go upstairs and get all dolled up!" Alicia grinned. "C'mon Ange. Do it for Fred!"

Angelina made a face, but followed Alicia up the stairs anyway. I laughed and made my way up behind them. I arrived a whole ten seconds after them, and Alicia had already rifled through her trunk, its whole contents strewn across the floor. Angelina stood with her hand over her mouth.

"She's like a tornado!"

Alicia laughed, a little manic. "Come on! It'll be fun. Angelina, go shower. I'll pick out your outfit."

"Are you trying to say I smell?" Angelina asked.

"Yes. Go," Alicia grinned. Angelina rolled her eyes, but headed for the bathroom, surreptitiously sniffing herself on the way. "But mostly because I know you'll say no to every outfit I suggest," Alicia said when the bathroom door closed. I laughed. "I have the perfect thing for her – and it's in season!"

Alicia had never struck me as a major fashionista before, but looking at her wardrobe now, I began to wonder how the thought hadn't struck me before. She rooted through her wardrobe several times until she finally found what she was looking for. She pulled out a green leopard print wrap-over dress, beaming, and I nodded. She dug out some killer high black shoes and set them on the floor. "She won't wear those."

"She'll look great in them!"

"I know, but ..."

"I'm not wearing those!" Angelina said as soon as she stepped out of the bathroom in a tank top and shorts, her hair dripping onto her shoulders.

"Why not?" Alicia demanded. "Fred is at least a head taller than you. These are just splitting the difference. Now sit." Angelina sat on Alicia's bed dutifully, her face twisting slightly in consternation. Alicia tapped her head, hard with her wand. Angelina flinched. Her black hair dried instantly, her parting in the middle, curling in loose ringlets well past her shoulders.

"Did you put an extension charm on my hair?"

"Yep. Katie, you go get showered. I'll get you ready next."

I headed for the bathroom and closed the door, but not before Angelina showered. "No. No! I'm not wearing this much make-up. Fred'll think he's in a relationship with a clown!"

"It's you who's in a relationship with a clown, Angelina. Shut up. You look great."

I showered quickly, well aware of missing valuable moments of partying downstairs. I emerged, drying my hair with a towel.

"Tell her how terrible I look," Angelina demanded, pulling her short dress down over her thighs self-consciously.

"You look great, Ange," I said. "Can you walk in those?" I said, motioning to the shoes.

"She won't need to! She can just sit and look gorgeous for Fred to gape at," Alicia said with glee. "Katie's turn! Sit, sit!"

"You're getting far too much pleasure out of this, Alicia Spinnet," I told her. "What dress am I wearing?"

She pointed at a cobalt blue, above the knee, 1940's style dress. "You're getting finger waves, too. True Monroe, baby." She tapped my head, and that's what I got. The waves started at my ears, and finished at my shoulders. She tapped my nose. I glanced at the mirror and immediately noticed the cherry red lipstick.

"Isn't this a little over the top?"

With a manic glint in her eye, she shook her head adamantly.

"That's what I said," Angelina said, rolling her thickly make-upped eyes. Alicia disappeared into the bathroom, carrying a red bundle, grinning to herself.

I sighed, slipping into the dress Alicia had picked for me. "She'll kill us if we take it off."

"I know," Angelina sighed too and sat down on the edge of her bed. She looked at me for a moment, then laughed to herself. "You look like Jessica Rabbit."

"Thanks," I muttered sarcastically.

"You've to wear those, by the way." She pointed to a set of dark blue heels that Alicia must have found in my trunk. I found myself sighing in resignation yet again as I slipped the shoes onto my feet, adding four inches to my medium stature. I looked at myself in the mirror and tested a smile. Angelina came to stand next to me. "We do look pretty good, though."

"What was that, Ange?" Alicia asked as she stepped out of the bathroom, dressed in a mid-thigh length structured red dress. Her hair was straight, hanging past her shoulders, and her eyes were smoke-grey. "Was that a confession from you just then?"

"We look good," Angelina said, rolling her eyes. Alicia took a lap of triumph in her black suede heels.

"Right. Let's go watch people stare at us," Alicia beamed. We followed her downstairs, Angelina and my eyes trained to the floor. "Fellas, the party can now officially begin. The Gryffindor Chasers are here!" she hollered, many people hearing her above the din. I felt blood flush my cheeks. I damned Alicia under my breath, and I heard Angelina groan.

"Wow." Fred and George stared at their respective girlfriends in awe.

Alicia strode up to a stunned George and kissed him on the cheek, leaving a nude-coloured lipstick print. "Hello, lover-boy."

George visibly gulped and took her hand. "Wow," he repeated. Alicia grinned.

Fred, getting over himself a bit, smiled a slow, charming smile at Angelina. "You look absolutely divine, Angel. I'm guessing Alicia had to tie you down to do this to you?"

"Just about," Angelina answered, still looking at the ground, obvious embarrassment written across her face.

Her boyfriend stepped closer to her and tilted her chin up with his fingertips. "You're beautiful, babe." He kissed her forehead and she finally smiled, muttering a thank you.

George turned on me, his smile still fully intact. "And baby-bell, did you think we'd forgotten about you?" Fred let go of Angelina and turned on me, too. They fell to one knee, and each took one of my hands. "Marry me, Kathryn."

"Marry me."

"Me."

"Me!"

"Me!"

"ME!"

"ME!"

I laughed hysterically, blushing. "I'll marry both of you. I'll be polyandrous!" They whooped, jumped up, and planted kisses on each of my cheeks.

"Though I'm not entirely sure how I feel about sharing a wife with my twin. A bit incestuous?" George mused to himself, looking at me thoughtfully. I laughed.

"Get the ladies some drinks! Drinks!" Fred shouted, and almost instantly, three Butterbeers were pressed into our hands.

The three of us sat at the quickly vacated couches, males tripping over themselves to accommodate us. I was starting to enjoy it, and it looked like Angelina was too. Alicia grinned at us, basking in the glory. "It's fun, isn't it?" We nodded dutifully, taking swigs from our bottles. "Katie," Alicia said quietly after a few moments of taking in the partying common room.

"Mmm?"

"Don't look now, but Oliver's staring at you."

I flushed scarlet. "No, I don't think so, 'Licia."

"He is," Angelina confirmed. I trained my eyes to the ruby-carpeted floor. She turned to where Fred and George were showing some second years fake wands. "Fred." She jerked her head to where Oliver was sitting on the windowsill. His eyes widened, and strode over. I watched as their conversation unfolded, subtly as I could. Fred was shaking his head a lot, and Oliver's head was bowed. Fred left him, and Oliver turned to look out of the window, his knees pulled up to his chest.

"I'll be back in a minute," Alicia muttered, and before I could stop her, she was sitting next to Oliver in the window, her arm looped with his.

"Oh God," I breathed. I felt myself standing up and heading for the portrait hole. I heard one of the twins shout after me, but the portrait of the Fat Lady shut behind me before they could catch up with me. I leant against the wall outside, breathing out shakily.

It was hard enough seeing Oliver, knowing that I couldn't just go over to him and hug him, without him staring at me when I looked like this. It made it too uncomfortable. He wasn't supposed to look at me like that. It wasn't like I was the prettiest out of the three of us, anyway. I was definitely the least beautiful.

I would never believe Oliver liked me like that. Never. And yet, the way the girls said it, it seemed like he did ...

I cut the thought short as I heard the portrait hope open, and out stepped the very subject of the thought. I stared at him. His face was soft, and sort of placid, his eyes sparkling, just like they used to.

"I don't love her." He said it bluntly, looking me in the eye.

I frowned, confused, stepping away from the wall. "What?"

"I don't love her." He took a step towards me, and I took half a step back.

"Oliver, what are you talking about?"

"Cassie. I'm not in love with her."

"And that concerns me, how?"

He dropped his eyes from mine, his hand running through his hair. "I just wanted you to know." I bit back my retort, deciding to keep silent, waiting for him to add to his reasons. He took a deep breath and looked me in the eye again. "You are heart-stopping tonight. Truly, astonishingly gorgeous." The breath that I had just taken left me suddenly, and it was difficult to breathe for a moment. He continued, as if getting everything off his chest at once was the easiest. "I'm sorry about ... about everything. I don't want it to be like this between us. I don't think it needs to be. Why can't we still be friends, Kates? I don't understand. I can't get my head around it at all. It's like you just flipped a switch on how you feel about me, and I don't understand." I could hear frustration leaking into his voice rapidly, like a flash flood.

I dropped my eyes from his. "It wasn't like flipping a switch, Oliver, you know that."

"Do I?"

"Well, at least, I didn't flip it." I looked at him again, to gauge his reaction. His face was smooth, but desperation was still in his eyes.

"I don't need to answer for asking someone out."

"No, you don't. But you do need to answer for not telling one of your best friends about it. And even worse, accusing her of being stupid enough to be used by her boyfriend for him to steal Quidditch tactics. Look, it doesn't matter, anyway –"

"Doesn't matter?" he interjected incredulously.

"No, it doesn't. It's for the best. We're with people who make us happy. We don't need the friendship we had."

"I do. I'm going crazy, Kates."

"Well ... you can't tolerate someone I care very much for. I can't just forget about that."

He took a few steps towards me and took hold of my shoulders. "Please, just ... just leave him ..." I watched as urgency took over his features with a cold stare.

"I won't do that," I told him firmly, shrugging his hands off me. "And you have no right to ask me to."

"Katie," he struggled, looking distraught.

"No, Oliver," I protested, feeling my resolve temporarily slip at his expression. He took advantage of it, and pulled me into him, wrapping his arms around me.

"I love you, Katie. I can't lose you, I ..." he choked, his accent becoming more pronounced the more upset he got.

"You only have a few months left," I told him, pushing him away. "When your graduation comes, you have lost me. As everything I was to you before all of this, and everything after. It'll be done. But for now, I'm your Quidditch team mate. I'll help you win the cup, but ... Ol', that has to be it."

"Why?" he ground out.

"Because I don't want to feel like this any more!" I yelled, losing all calm. "I don't want to feel guilty any more. I don't want to feel like I'm disappointing you, Oliver. And I won't stop feeling that until I stop seeing you every day."

He stayed silent at this, his eyes burning and his complexion white. "And so that's it? After I graduate, that's the last time you'll ever look at me?" he asked eventually.

"Aren't you sick of looking at me?"

His eyes blazed. "No, Kates. Never."

I became hyper-aware of my make-over. I shifted uncomfortably under his gaze, the look he was giving me made me feel sick. I groaned. "We don't work, Oliver. I don't want to hurt you. But this is self-preservation. You hurt me so god damn much."

He closed the gap between us, his arms encasing my waist, his chin resting on my head. "I never mean to hurt you. Never."

"I know, Oliver. But it's just ..." I struggled, pulling out of the embrace. "It's just who we are."

"What, you hurt me, I hurt you, in an endless circle?" he said miserably, his hand stroking my hair.

"Something like that."

He looked at me sadly. "Kates ... I don't want to have a life where you're not making me miserable."

"I'm sorry," was all I could say before I drew myself as close to him as I could. He kissed my hair and hugged me back.

"No, I'm the one who's sorry," he said, more to himself than me, I thought. We hugged for a few moments longer before I pulled away. I ran a hand over his cheek, smiling slightly. He stared seriously back. "What?"

"Nothing," I lied, telling myself to hold my tongue about how irresistible he looked, the glow of the win still unvanished from his face. "I'll see you at practice, Captain." And I left, leaving him out in the corridor to go back to the party, still smiling sadly to myself.