I know this update was slower than the others, but one of my friends turned me on to the TV show Heroes and I've been holed up in my room for about a week watching every single episode. And then I left for a church camp…but I'm back now.
--
::One Month Later::
The office of the Daily Prophet is bustling as usual. Memos are flying through the air so erratically that I have to duck to avoid them, which isn't making the job of hiding from Malcolm any easier. According to Grace Parker, a co-worker of mine, he has been looking for me all afternoon. And that can never be a good thing.
I've made it nearly three hours without him finding me, but now it's time for me to clock out. All I have to do is make it out the door and I'm free for the weekend…
"Katie Bell!"
Shit! I pause for only a second in panic before continuing on my way much faster than before. I'll just pretend I didn't hear him.
"Katie Bell!" Malcolm shouts louder. Okay, only a deaf person wouldn't have heard that. I continue weaving through my co-workers nonetheless, several giving me pitying glances as I try to sneak out of Malcolm's sight. "I know you hear me," he admonishes. "And if you don't stop now, you're fired!"
"Like you would fire me!" I reply, still making my way towards the door.
"I went without you for seven months—I can do it again!" Finally, more out of guilt than anything, I come to a halt. Although Malcolm understands the necessity of me quitting when I did, he still hasn't completely forgiven me.
"What is it, Malcolm? You promised me the weekend off! I have a baby shower to plan," I argue.
"Yes, I know. You haven't let me forget that. But I have an assignment for you. It doesn't have to be done this weekend, but I want the article on my desk a week from today."
I groan inwardly, but I know that that is more leniency than Malcolm normally allows. "What's the assignment?" I sigh.
Malcolm smiles brightly and hands me a slip of paper as if it's the best Christmas present anyone could hope for. "It's just a follow-up interview on the story you did a few months ago. He requested you specifically."
"Of course he did," I groan before I can stop myself. I am going to kill Oliver Wood.
"Well, listen," Malcolm continues, rifling through the papers in his hand. "Rumor has it that Wood was recently engaged. Get the scoop on that, will you? He's not prone to interviews, but I think if you turn on the charm you just might be able to get it out of him. The number one candidate for his future wife is Amanda Withers, Puddlemere's Seeker—"
"Amanda Withers got married last month," I point out.
"What? When did that happen?" Malcolm asks frantically, flipping through his papers so fiercely that a few fall to the ground.
"Last month," I repeat slowly.
"We should have covered that. How did I miss it?"
"We did cover it, Malcolm."
"Who wrote the article?" he asks.
"I did," I clarify.
"Oh…well, good job." I shake my head slightly in frustration.
"Is that it, then? Can I go?"
"Oh no, a few more things. Figure out who he's engaged to…or even if they're still engaged—"
"You told me that already."
"—and there has also been some talk that he's transferring to the Falmouth Falcons." I can't help the laugh that escapes me. "What?"
"Nothing, I'm sorry," I say quickly. "I just…highly doubt that is all."
"Well, I think that's all Ms. Bell. You're free to go." I smirk to myself as I walk out the door. In some ways it must suck to be an internationally renowned Quidditch player. You always get these outrageous rumors cropping up for no good reason.
I step out of the Daily Prophet and immediately veer towards Diagon Alley. I've put Leanne's baby shower off far too late, but this was the only weekend that was good for her and I have to get some decorations. I wouldn't even be doing this except for the fact that Leanne refuses to throw herself one and I think she would enjoy it.
How come I always end up planning things for her? Is that really the price of being her best friend? I think having friends is way too complicated.
Leanne's still being stubborn, however, and refuses to mess up her own house because she has no idea when the baby is going to pop out; so, we're having it at the flat I'm sharing with Angelina and Alicia.
I stop in several shops and pick up some things I need before heading over to Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes. I still feel a slight pang of sorrow when I walk in and notice Fred's no where to be seen, but it's getting duller each and every time. I've taken to stopping by quite a bit after work and just visiting.
A bell tinkles as I walk in the door, but no one takes much notice of me. Customers are packed in tight and I doubt anyone could hear the bell even if they'd been listening for it. I walk to the front of the room and find Angelina sitting behind the register, reading a copy of Witch Weekly.
"What are you doing off practice this early?" I ask, making my way over and leaning on the counter.
"Stephanie Jordan sprained something or another," Angelina explains. "Coach healed her, of course, but gave us the rest of the day off. I think I'm going to conveniently fall of my broom next practice so it can be called off early too. How was work?"
"Fine. I'm supposed to interview Oliver again."
"Well, you're over there enough as it is. It's about time you had an excuse."
"Why do I need an excuse?" I ask, trying to hide a smile.
"It's just not right, Katie—spending so much time alone with a guy who's not your betrothed. When are you two going to start dating again? This whole thing's getting ridiculous."
"We will when we're ready," I say for what feels like the millionth time. Angelina just doesn't understand that this break was something I needed.
And it doesn't help that over the past month, Oliver and I have become so much closer than we've ever been. He's definitely helped me fill the void that Fred left behind. "Hey, is George here?"
"Yeah," Angelina replies. "He's over there telling Ginny she's too young to have one of his Patented Daydream Charms."
"Oh, come on. The girl turns seventeen in two months."
"And she only want one because he says she can't have one," Angelina laughs.
"I'm so about to buy her one," I say.
"George is going to kill you," Angelina smirks. "But if you're really going to get one for her, get it out of the back room. I don't want to have to restock the front unless I have to." I wave my hand absently to show that I've heard her and head into the back room. I'm about the push the curtains back to enter, when I hear yelling from the other side.
"Ron, you're being ridiculous!" Hermione Granger yells shrilly.
"No, I'm not—I'm being me! If you don't like me, then maybe you should just leave me alone."
"Maybe I should," she retorts. I roll my eyes, but push the curtain aside and enter the room. These two have been going at it for days, and all over the same topic.
"Hey, Katie," Ron greets when I enter. I smile over at him, always getting a kick out of seeing him in the magenta robe that all employees wear. Although it looks horrible on George too, it seems more comic on Ron.
"Katie, tell him he needs to go back to school," Hermione says without a greeting. I freeze. Oh please don't drag me into this!
"Katie," Ron counters, "tell her it's my life and I'll do with it what I damn well please!"
"You'll never be a proper wizard if you don't go back," Hermione argues, seeming to forget Katie's presence.
"I think I've proved myself capable of being a proper wizard. Hermione, they've asked all three of us to train to become Aurors—without taking the N.E.W.T.s! Why won't you take advantage of that?"
"Because I have no desire to be an Auror as you very well know! I want to go back to school!"
"Well no one's stopping you! Ginny has to go back for her seventh year—it's not like you're going to be alone."
"But you're not going to be there!" she yells. I immediately stop rummaging through boxes as the room gets deathly quiet.
"Is that what this is about?" Ron asks quietly after a few seconds. I'm still too scared to make a move in case they notice me and decide that they don't want to have this conversation after all.
"I don't know," Hermione admits. "Maybe."
I turn slightly and see Ron take both of her hands in his. "I'm going to miss you, Hermione. You have to know that. But I couldn't go back to Hogwarts right now even if I wanted to. George needs me here." She nods her understanding and I, after finally locating the product I'm looking for, head silently out the door.
The shop is still as chaotic as ever when I step out of the store room. I meander through the people before making my way back to the cash register, now being manned by Verity, and purchasing the Patented Daydream Charm. I'd actually never thought of how embarrassing it would be to buy one of those until I saw the look that Verity gave me.
After putting my purchase securely in a bag, I walk over to where Ginny and George are still arguing. It must be something about the red hair—all of the Weasley's seem to have a fiery temper today.
"You treat me like I'm a little girl!"
"You are a little girl! And even if you weren't my little sister, you're still too young to buy that."
"So," I say to George when I get close enough, "what you're saying is that if she somehow got her hands on one, you wouldn't mind?"
"Yeah, sure," George shrugs. "But she's too young, so that's a moot point."
"No, I was just clarifying," I say. "Here you go, Ginny." I hand her the bag.
"What's this?" she asks, opening the bag. Suddenly, her face lights up with a grin. "I love you, Katie," she cries, wrapping her arms around her neck. She then sticks her tongue out at George and takes off out of the store.
"You did not just do what I think you did," George mutters, giving me a death glare.
"Of course not," I shrug. He seems to think that it's better not to know for sure and doesn't question me on it. Instead, he takes off to help some of his customers. Smirking to myself, I say goodbye to Angelina before stepping back onto the streets of Diagon Alley. I've barely been walking a minute, however, before I hear my name shouted above the noise.
"Katie!" I turn to find Mallory and Ben sitting outside of Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour, Oliver alongside them. Mallory, the one who called my name, is waving at me wildly. I walk over to them.
"Hello all," I greet, sitting in the free seat next to Oliver and setting my bags onto the ground beside me.
"What's in the bags?" Mallory asks, leaning over to get a peek.
"Just decorations for Leanne's baby shower," I shrug.
"Tomorrow, right?" she clarifies. I nod. "I'll be there. You know, I've never been to a baby shower before. Missed my sister's—actually I just didn't go. I really hate her friends…" I roll my eyes at her. She knows very well that I hate Leanne's friends too.
"Oh, Oliver!" I say, suddenly remembering my conversation with Malcolm. "I heard you're considering switching to the Falmouth Falcons."
"What?!" Ben cries.
"Yeah, what are you talking about?" Oliver laughs. "I thought it was the Tutshill Tornados."
"Whatever it is," I roll my eyes, "I'm supposed to find out about it. Why the hell did you request me for an interview?"
"Coach told me I needed to do one—it's been a while," Oliver shrugs.
"Hey, Kates," Ben says sweetly, "could you possibly, maybe give me an interview too?"
"Are you kidding me?" I groan. "If I knew having friends on professional Quidditch teams was going to make me work this hard…"
"I'll name my first born child after you!" he offers.
"Uh, hold on…" Mallory warns and I can't help but laugh.
"I'll do the interview, but you're going to have to wait until I can clear my plate a bit."
"Yeah, no problem," he grins. "Last time I did an interview with the Prophet, I got this crazy blonde who hit on me all night. I must have downed like five firewhiskeys trying to make her voice less annoying. Needless to say, that didn't turn into the most flattering interview in the world."
"You're also rumored to be engaged to Amanda," I continue, turning back to Oliver. "Is there something I should know?"
"I really wish you hadn't found out like that," he says seriously. I hit him hard on the shoulder. "Ow!" he jokes. I roll my eyes.
"I better be going," I say, standing up from my spot at the table. "But I'll see you later."
"You sure you don't want to stay for some ice cream?" Oliver asks, grabbing my wrist before I can take a step away,
"I can't," I groan.
"Okay," he shrugs. "But come by my flat tonight and we can do that interview." I nod and wave as I Disapparate. I already had plans to see Oliver tonight anyways. I guess now it's just for business instead of pleasure.
--
I walk into Oliver's flat without knocking. He gave me a key after I moved out and I've been using it ever since. I do find it strange, however, that he never trusted me with a key when I actually lived there…
I'm immediately greeted by Bludger, who's as excited as ever to see me. Apparently Oliver and my separation has been hard on him.
"Hey, Kates, I'm in the kitchen," Oliver calls. As I make my way back there, I smell a pungent aroma wafting through the house.
"Oliver, are you cooking?" I ask, hurrying into the kitchen where Oliver is, in fact, cooking. "Oh my God! You are cooking!" He throws a dish towel at me and I throw it back.
"Just sit down, will you? We can do this interview while the chicken is finishing up."
"Whatever you say," I smirk. After checking to make sure everything on the stovetop is in order, Oliver sits down in the seat opposite me.
"You know, this interview is completely pointless," Oliver says. "I mean, you know me well enough to write my biography."
"Yeah, well, Malcolm wants to know about your engagement," I say.
"That could be problematic."
"Yeah, you're telling me. It would almost be easier if you were engaged to Amanda."
"Well, just print the truth—I'm not engaged anymore. Thanks to you," he smiles over at me sarcastically and I grind my teeth together.
"Shut up!" I cry, although I've gotten used to these jabs over the past few weeks. "This is seriously a problem—Malcolm's going to want a name."
"Katie, why not just give it to him?" Oliver laughs. "That seems to make the most sense to me."
"Do you know how egotistical it would sound if I wrote an article about me being engaged to you. No one would believe it."
"Except for the people who actually know us," Oliver points out. "And they're really the only ones that matter anyway." I shrug. He's left the decision up to me on what to print and I know him well enough to know that he's not about to change his mind.
"And you're not thinking about switching Quidditch teams?" I ask in a monotone, voicing the question only because it's required of me. How do these rumors get started?
"No, I'm definitely staying with Puddlemere," he clarifies.
"Well good. The falcons could use you, though. They just keep getting worse and worse."
"Which is exactly why I'm staying with Puddlemere," Oliver laughs.
"Well, those are really the only questions I have for you," I shrug, reaching across Oliver to grab a roll off of the table. "I'll just fill in the rest with horribly embarrassing stories that you don't want anyone to know about."
"That's really all you have?" Oliver asks. "You may never get this chance again, you know? To ask me anything you want."
"What am I supposed to ask you?" I question around a mouthful of food.
"How am I supposed to know? You're the reporter."
"Okay, okay…which of your teammates are you closest to?"
"Ben," Oliver answers.
"And is there one you're butting heads with at the moment?"
"Actually, yes. I don't think I've told you this yet. Nolan's dating Jaiden. And I mean actually dating, not just shagging. And don't give me that look—I'm not jealous. It's just rubbed me the wrong way is all."
"Whatever you say," I smirk. I'm honestly not worried about him being jealous, because I'd probably feel the same way if I was in his position. "So, I suppose you're going to be the godfather for Leanne and Cullen's kid."
"Is that a question?" he asks.
"No, just a comment."
"Well in that case, I actually have no clue. According to Cullen, if they have a boy, I'm going to be godfather. If they have a girl, you are going to be godmother."
"What?!" I ask when his words finally take shape in my head.
"Katie, don't act so surprised! You're Leanne's best friend."
"But I can't…do…children. They hate me, Oliver. They really do!"
"It's not going to hate you," he laughs. "And it's not like you'll be in charge of raising it—you'll be the one that gets to spoil it."
"You're referring to a child as 'it'," I point out.
"Well in that case, apparently neither of us is fit to raise a child." A smile spreads across my face.
"I've got another question," I ask, inspiration suddenly coming to me.
"Hit me."
"What was the best day of your life? Ever."
"That's easy," he says. "The day we won the Quidditch Cup my seventh year."
"I should have known," I say, rolling my eyes. He smirks.
"Do you remember what happened that day? What else happened that day?" I think about it for a second. When I realize what he's talking about, I look up at him and smile.
"That's the day we got together…for real." Oliver nods.
"Katie," he asks, leaning closer to me by the second, "when are we going to stop playing this ridiculous game? It's been a month and we're practically dating already. I want you back in my arms for good."
My brain clouds and I don't know how to respond. It is true that I've been stubborn this past month, and I do think that it's time for Oliver and I to get back together. But I can't say any of that because it seems as if my brain has completely shut down. Instead, I just let him continue to lean closer.
He's only inches away when a tapping sounds at his window. We both pull away, him closing his eyes in frustration. I get up from my seat and head over to the window, where I let in the aggravated owl tapping on it. He flies immediately to Oliver, who grabs the letter out of his beak. The owl doesn't stay for a treat. I shut the window after him.
As I turn back to the table, Oliver suddenly stands up and begins turning all of the dishes on the stovetop off.
"Oliver, what's going on?" I ask worriedly.
"It's Leanne," he says, turning to me with a grin on his face. "She's in labor."
"Oh my God!" I cry. "She can't be in labor—her baby shower isn't until tomorrow!"
"I don't think the kid cares about that. We need to get to St. Mungo's."
"Right behind you," I say, grabbing my purse off of the table. "Oh, wait," I say, stopping Oliver from Disapparating. "I need to tell Angelina and Alicia where I'm going."
"What? Why?" he asks with a laugh.
"I just do! Plus, they'd want to know. I'll meet you at St. Mungo's, okay?"
"Yeah," he agrees and then Disapparates. I disappear right after him, reappearing in the living room of the flat I share with Angelina and Alicia.
I don't see anyone, so I head over to Angelina's bedroom. I'm just about to knock when I hear noises coming from inside. It takes me a second to place them. When the hell did Angelina get a boyfriend?
Curiosity gets the best of me and I push the door open. They're snogging wildly when I walk in, but they quickly pull apart. The pair of them look at me with guilt etched onto their faces.
It's a very familiar sight. This time, however, it's very different. Because no matter how much George looks like Fred, he'll never be him.
My thoughts can't align themselves in head. Angelina and…George? What the hell? I never thought George would sink this low, taking his dead brother's ex-girlfriend.
"Leanne's having her baby," I choke out. "I have to go to St. Mungo's. I don't know when I'll be back."
I then turn around and storm out of the room. "Katie, wait!" Angelina calls. I don't slow down. Even though I know I'm in no fit condition to do so, I Disapparate on the spot. Thankfully, I make it to St. Mungo's in one piece. But the stitches that have sewn themselves over my heart suddenly come re-opened.
What the hell?
--
I don't know how many chapters are left, but it's not that many. So, review please :)