"Please stop. You know how that drives me crazy!"

Katie didn't bother to hide her devilish smile as she slurped the last dregs of her milkshake.

"Gods, you are so obnoxious," Leanne said, but she laughed all the same. "So, what did you say to her?"

"I said yes, of course. What other option is there?"

"The Ministry would probably take you. There's a lot to be done getting the country back on track. You'd make enough to move out, at least."

She leaned back in her chair, toying with her empty glass. "Maybe that's true, but this feels right. If I left things as they are, it'd feel too much like giving in. I have to go back."

"Still, a ninth year at school. You're going to be twenty before Christmas!" Leanne said.

"Thanks for the reminder," Katie muttered, feeling her face heat up. "Look, can you just lay off? I'm sure I'll hear enough of that as it is once classes start."

"Er, yea, sorry," her friend said, "I wasn't trying to- I didn't mean to rub it in."

Eager to change the topic, Katie pushed her glass toward the centre of the table and leaned forward. "That's my big news, why don't you tell me the latest gossip from Gringotts?"

Leanne happily complied, and the two spent another twenty minutes chatting at the newly reopened Florean's before Katie said goodbye, spinning in place and apparating back home.

"Is that you, Katie?" her mother called out the moment she arrived. "You're back earlier than I expected. How was it with your friends?"

Katie found her mother in the kitchen, brewing a potion with her brother's assistance. "I only saw Leanne."

"No, Michael, you were supposed to dice the lacewings. These are minced." Her mother, Amy Bell, spent the summer tutoring her younger brother to catch him up on all the things he didn't learn under the Carrows' reign last year. "I thought you were going to visit with your old teammates, too?"

"I decided not to," she said, doing her best not to sound defensive.

Evidently, she failed, judging by the way her mother speared her with an inquisitive look. "There, now two dozen stirs, and turn off the heat, okay?" Michael nodded, and Amy approached her, putting a comforting hand on her eldest's shoulder. "You have nothing to be embarrassed about, sweetheart."

"Yea, I know."

"But you are, anyway, aren't you?"

She leaned against the wall, pulling out her hair tie and letting her dark brown hair fall around her shoulders. "It's just- things are finally back to normal, and everybody's starting their lives and working towards their dreams, and I- I'm not."

"You are so!"

"It doesn't feel like it!" she loudly protested. "Leanne said I should see about working for the Ministry."

"And where would that get you? Without your NEWTs, you'll be last in line for any promotion. Going back is the responsible move to make."

"At least I'd have a job! And I wouldn't have to live at home, like a little kid! I'm a grown woman, Mum, I want to have a life!"

This wasn't the first time she'd said this, and Amy let her finish before responding. "You have a job, as of two days ago, I don't know why you can't be proud of-"

"Yea," she scoffed, "Adjunct Flying Instructor, just like I always dreamed when I was a girl!"

"I'm happy you're going to be at Hogwarts again," Michael interjected, a tremor running through his voice. "I'm- I wish I didn't have to go back."

Amy didn't turn away from her, but she raised her eyebrows and nodded her head in Michael's direction. Katie held back a sigh, brushing her bangs out of her face, stepped around her mother and went to his side. "I know you're scared, but this year's going to be different, I promise."

Michael, as a half-blooded Hufflepuff First Year, didn't have an easy time under the Death Eater controlled Hogwarts. More than once he'd been selected by older Slytherins for Dark Arts 'demonstrations'. Katie was convinced he got picked because of her success against their quidditch team, but like everyone else that wasn't the 'right sort', she was powerless to stop the abuse.

"What if… what if they come back?" he asked.

"They won't. You-Know-Who is gone, and so are all his followers. What happened last year will never happen again."

While Katie embraced him, her mother extinguished the flame beneath the cauldron and began to ladle the potion into vials. He was such a fragile boy; for a blessed moment, her own problems didn't matter, not in comparison to the trauma her younger brother went through before he'd even reached his teenage years.

She'd be there to take care of him. A tiny flicker of purpose sparked inside Katie, as she promised both Michael and herself this would be a better year.

It had to be.

"SURPRISE!"

A blast of confetti immediately blinded her the moment she walked in the door of the Three Broomsticks. It was an absolutely absurd quantity, so much that she was spitting out mouthfuls of shredded paper and shaking it out of her hair.

"Goddammit you two! Can't you ever take anything seriously?"

"Don't blame me! It was all his idea."

"Oi! Like hell it was!" George Weasley tried to look innocent, but a minute grin cracked his facade. "Sorry, Katie."

"If it makes you feel better," Ron Weasley said, "The confetti is all conjured, it won't last more than a couple minutes after the cannons fire."

Alicia Spinnet pinched the bridge of her nose and counted to ten with her eyes closed before she looked to the third member of their old chaser line. "Angie, back me up here."

Angelina, though, just squeezed George's upper arm and gave him a soft smile.

"Er, what's all this?" Katie asked. "Leanne was supposed to meet me here-"

"And here I am!" her best friend said, squeezing her way between the Weasley brothers on one side and Dean Thomas on the other. "We decided to throw you a party, to celebrate your last day of freedom!"

"A back to school party with all your old teammates," Oliver Wood chimed in, a mug of ale in one hand, looking half in the bag already.

"Except McLaggen, that bloody tosser," Ginny Weasley piped up, Demelza Robins at her side as always. "Hope you don't mind sharing the limelight with us tonight, Katie!"

If she had it her way, Katie would have happily rendered herself invisible and let them have all the attention. "Right, you two are going back as well, aren't you?"

"Seventh Year, take two!" Ginny said, raising a butterbeer in salute.

"Pssh, nothing special about that!" Lee Jordan said with a laugh. "Now three tries, that's impressive! Can I get you a drink, Katie?"

"Uh, sure, thanks. Leanne? Could I talk to you?" She felt like her face must be redder than the Weasleys' hair as she pulled her back towards the entrance. True to Ron's promise, the confetti vanished beneath their feet as they stepped outside. "What is this? You said you wanted to have a butterbeer before the fall term began, just the two of us!"

"Well, that's just it, in'it? You're not exactly going to have a lot of free time for the next few months, and the girls wanted to see you off. From there, it kind of expanded into a Gryffindor quidditch reunion!" Leanne - who, along with Lee, were the only people present that hadn't flown for the Lions while at Hogwarts - suddenly looked abashed. "Was it- should I have told them no? I thought you'd be happy to see everyone."

"Yea. It's great," Katie said tonelessly. "It's been too long since I got together with this lot. I appreciate you putting this together."

"Katie," Leanne said, putting an arm around her waist and pulling her alongside. "Everyone really is happy to see you. You believe me, don't you?"

She was being ungrateful, insensitive. Unlike Katie, everyone here had lives to live, futures to seek, opportunities to pursue; they'd taken time out of their schedules to come to Hogsmeade on a Thursday afternoon and wish her well. What did it say about her, that her instinctive response was embarrassed resentment?

Not anything good, that's for sure.

So, plastering on the most authentic smile she could manage, Katie waded back into the party and did her best to resurrect the person she used to be, to be as good to her friends as they were to her. She listened to Ollie explain how he made assistant captain at Puddlemere, George and Ron talk business about this year's school shoppers, Alicia complain about her patients at St. Mungo's, and Angelina spitball new chaser formations for Falmouth's line. It was almost more than she could take.

But Rosmerta kept the drinks flowing, and the alcohol slowly brought out some cheer in her, chemically induced or not. She was helped along by the discussion turning to old times, the initial rowdiness of the party mellowing to a more nostalgic flavour.

While Katie downed her fourth glass of elven wine, Leanne pulled up a chair next to her, squeezing into the loose circle the group formed. "Since we have some sports luminaries present, what are some of your favourite memories of Gryffindor quidditch?"

"Oh, yes!" Lee looked enthused at the idea. Always one for a good story, he'd become a correspondent for Quidditch Quarterly after graduating. "Please, feel free to go on at length, just let me set up my Dicta-Quill!" A round of laughter followed that joke, but a sort of hallowed quiet settled soon after.

"I guess I'll go first, seeing as I had the shortest run of anyone here," Dean said. "My favourite memory is easy: flying out of the tunnel onto the pitch for my first match. There's really nothing like it."

Katie knew exactly what he meant. The rush of wind against your face, the drag of your robes, then suddenly the shocking brightness of the day and the deafening roar of the crowd. All those times she experienced it, all those matches, and she never thought to savour it. What she wouldn't give to be able to feel that again… to have even a chance to feel it again.

"Lifting the Cup for the first time. You youngsters don't know what it was like, back in the Dark Ages," Oliver said. "I'd waited for so long I'd almost lost hope… I was lucky to have a great team to get me there."

"Hear, hear!" came calls from the rest, raising their glasses in toast.

Round and round it went, each player recounting their best memories of flying for the scarlet and gold.

"It's your turn, Katie. What was your best moment?"

Her throat was tight, practically choking her from spending the last half-hour dwelling in memories of who she used to be. Who she thought she'd always be, until it was stolen away from her.

"All of them," she whispered, before clearing her throat and trying again. "There's too many to choose just one."

A chorus of boos came in response, along with another blast from the confetti cannon for no apparent reason.

"Settle down, now, settle down!" Lee said, standing on a chair to address the group. "I regret to inform you that each of you, in fact, was wrong. The correct answer to the question 'what's your favourite memory of Gryffindor quidditch' is actually 'the time I saw Harry Potter catch the snitch in his mouth by accident'."

"I'll have you know," a new voice said from behind her, "That was no accident, but rather a display of incomprehensible skill."

"Harry!"

Katie turned in her seat, and there he was, shaking hands with Dean and Demelza. He bent over to kiss Ginny's cheek, but the girl leaned away, instead standing up to go get another drink from the bar.

Harry looked… jumpy, at first, despite them being the only ones in the Three Broomsticks (not counting Madam Rosmerta). Still, he seemed to settle down once he took a seat, the back of his chair wedged into the corner of the room. Katie was never so grateful to see him as she was now, his arrival having thankfully stolen away any remaining attention directed her way.

"I thought he wasn't going to make it!" Leanne said, sliding over a new glass of wine as she took a seat next to her. "I owled him an invite, but he never responded."

"Really?" She peered through the dim lighting, watching him smile along with whatever Ron was saying. "Well, there's nothing wrong with taking some time to himself. I imagine he's earned his rest, wouldn't you say?"

"Still, I'm glad he came. I know you always had a soft spot for Potter."

Katie rolled her eyes. "I was fourteen, Leanne. Get over it." Leanne just laughed. "Besides, he's with Weasley now."

"Is he?" Leanne nodded in the bar's direction, where Ginny's back was to them - and Harry - while she spoke with Demelza and Dean.

"Whatever," Katie mumbled, staring down into her wine, her buzz diminishing along with her mood. "I've got more important things to focus on, like trying to graduate in less than a decade."

"You're not a student. You're going back to school as an instructor-"

"Adjunct instructor," Katie interrupted, but Leanne went on as though she hadn't spoken.

"-you'll just be taking classes while you're working. I wish you'd believe me when I say you've got nothing to be ashamed of. It's not easy having to defend my best friend from herself, you know!"

"Yea, I know," Katie said, solely to end the conversation. "I should probably head to the castle, it's getting late and I don't want to have to find my quarters while I'm sloshed. Thanks for the party, it was great of you to put this together."

"Okay," Leanne said, in that concerned tone Katie's mother used all the time. "You'll write to me and tell me how it goes, won't you?"

"Of course!"

"And tell me when- when the first Hogsmeade weekend is, we'll plan something, okay?"

"Sure." Katie numbly hugged her goodbye, mind whirling as she raced through farewells on her way to the exit.

Hogsmeade weekends, she thought with a detached, numb feeling. Meals in the Great Hall, evenings in the library. Nine fucking years, and she was still trying to graduate from Hogwarts. How could this be her life?

She stumbled, but whether it was due to the darkness or her blurry eyes, she'd never know. A strong hand caught hold of her bicep, easily holding her upright.

"You alright?" The voice was familiar, but it came from a blur that was barely distinguishable from the dark landscape.

"Harry? Is that you?"

"That's right."

"Are you… are you using a Disillusionment Charm?"

"Erm, yea." He slowly faded back into view, his wand held in his hand.

"Why?"

"So I wouldn't be seen," he said, very matter-of-factly. "C'mon, I'll walk with you to the castle."

He didn't re-engage the charm, but Harry seemed very nervous, keeping his wand drawn for the entire walk and his head on a swivel, scanning the surroundings. "Are you alright?"

"Of course. So Leanne says you took a faculty position?"

"Yea, I'm the adjunct flying instructor."

He started to nod, though his head whipped to the side when a gust of wind rustled a tree branch. "I heard Madam Hooch was in a bad way after the battle, so that makes sense. I'm surprised you accepted, though. Figured you'd have declared for the League's summer draft."

"No. My quidditch days are over."

For the first time since he'd appeared out of thin air, Harry looked over and met her gaze. "Why? You were- hell, you were the best chaser in the whole school! You broke my dad's record for most goals in a single season!"

"I didn't think you paid attention to us lowly goal scorers," she quipped, but her joke fell flat when it became apparent he was expecting an actual answer. "You missed the last match of the season, against Ravenclaw, my Seventh Year. My first Seventh Year, I mean."

"Right, I had detention with Snape."

"Well, when I touched the cursed necklace, Madam Pomfrey tried to keep the magic from spreading to my heart. She managed to lock it away, keeping it isolated on my arm." The gates were in sight now. Almost there. "My right arm."

"Your throwing arm," Harry said. "But you were cured at St. Mungo's, right?"

"They dispelled the curse, and saved my life. Hell, they even saved my arm. But Dark magic like that leaves a residue, a stain. There was some permanent damage."

He was quiet as they walked through the gates, waiting until the road narrowed to more of a path before he spoke again, his voice muted by the trees on either side of them. "You can't throw any longer?"

"I regained full motor function in my arm, but… yea. My last match, against Ravenclaw - I could barely float a pass to the others. We were lucky the 'claws assumed I was going to get the quaffle; Demelza burned them a half-dozen times when they tried to double-team me. She and Ginny are the only reasons we won."

"I'm sorry."

"It's okay." It wasn't. They walked in silence until they reached the castle. "Anyway, I'll be fine from here, you don't need to walk me any further. I'm sure there's no dark wizards hiding in the Entrance Hall."

"Oh, alright then. Goodnight, Katie."

She turned away, wandering off towards the staff wing to seek out the portrait the Headmistress assigned to guard her door. At least she didn't have to share a dorm with the Gryffindor girls again; it was humiliating enough she'd spent two years in the Seventh Year room as it is.

By the time she identified the correct portrait (Gerta Curd, noted author of Charm Your Own Cheese), Katie wanted nothing more than to go to sleep.

Unfortunately, when she woke up, this would still be her life.

"Good morning, Madam Hooch."

"None of that now, Bell, call me Rolanda. How are you this morning?"

Katie tried not to stare, but the burns, the eyepatch, and the swivelling magical eye were hard to look away from. "It's great to see you back on your feet, ma'am."

"It's great to see anything at all," Hooch joked, and Katie shared an uncomfortable laugh with the longstanding flying instructor. "Still, for all my scars, I'm a damn sight better than that Carrow bitch. Heard she was one of the first ones Kissed when the dementors returned to Azkaban, may she rot in hell."

Katie recalled reading about the dementors 'breaking loose', Kissing the most notorious Death Eaters that, by chance, had themselves broken free of their cells. It was a fanciful story, but the public was more than happy to accept it at face value if it meant washing their hands of the worst of the former 'regime' once and for all.

Madam Hooch, herself, was blinded following the first quidditch match of the previous school year. Like always, she'd served as the referee for Ravenclaw versus Slytherin; when Ravenclaw won by a landslide, Alecto Carrow had used a Full-Body-Bind on Madam Hooch, followed by a flame spell that burned away her eyes and most of the flesh on her face.

"If you're too blind to see Slytherin getting cheated, you won't need these, will you?" Alecto had cackled, while the entire student body, including her brother, watched in horror.

"I'm glad you got a prosthetic. We all felt terrible at what happened."

"I appreciate that. Only problem is, I haven't quite got a handle on using it. Damn thing gives me a nasty case of vertigo every time I so much as float on a broom." She turned and gestured to the newly reconstructed quidditch pitch. "Beautiful, ain't it?"

Katie didn't look. In her mind, she would have preferred it the way she'd seen it last; scorched and burnt. At least that way she wouldn't be reminded of everything she'd had to give up. "What's on the agenda for this morning, ma'am?"

"We need to inspect the new brooms the Board procured for student use. I'll show you the inspection charm the quidditch leagues use before their matches, then I'll need you to take a quick spin on each one to make sure there's no issues or manufacturer errors."

"Sounds good!"

The charm was easy to learn, and simple to cast. The brooms were all Comet 290s, a decent enough broomstick made for casual flyers, not for quidditch or racing. They were brand-new, likely a surplus batch the Board of Governors got a bargain on.

"Up!" The first broom slapped against her palm with a dull thud. Swinging a leg over the shaft, Katie launched herself airborne, instantly accelerating to the broom's max speed. Reflexively, she hunched herself down against the broom, narrowing her profile as the wind whipped at her hair.

Rocketing towards the Forbidden Forest, she pulled hard at the broom, intending to swing the Comet into an Immelman turn, a maneuvre she'd executed thousands of times before. Like always, she pulled to the right, instinctively letting her dominant arm absorb the gees as she sharply climbed.

Only this time, her mind caught up to her instincts a second too late. Katie tried to switch her hand position, to lead with her left, and ended up nearly stalling out, catching herself with only a few feet to spare between her and the tops of the trees in the Forbidden Forest. At a much slower pace, she turned the broom back towards the pitch and landed, setting it down and reaching for the next in line.

But it was too much to expect the experienced flying instructor would have missed what just happened over the Forest. "I'd wondered why you took this job," Hooch said. "Didn't make any sense you'd come back for NEWTs, not with the way you played."

"I- the, uh, the broom handled well. It's a good model for firsties to start out on."

As was her nature, the older woman paid no mind to her attempts to change the subject. "How bad is it? Will you regain full use of your arm?"

It didn't seem like she'd let it go, so Katie said, "I've got full use, just not full strength. Not much worth to a chaser that can't throw, or a flyer who can only make left turns."

"I guess not. That's a real shame; I've been teaching here since '73, and you were one of the best I ever saw." Hooch glanced down at the rows of lined-up brooms. "Quite a pair we make, eh? Well, at least we're alive!"

Rather than answer, Katie picked up the next broom and took off, albeit at a much slower pace.

"Professor Bell? There's an Aurora Sinistra outside, requesting an audience."

Katie looked up at the second frame of the portrait that guarded her door. "I already told you, Gerta, I'm an adjunct instructor, not a professor."

"Yes, well, you're a teacher at Hogwarts now. Better get used to being called 'professor', official title or not."

Rolling her eyes, she set down the NEWT primer she'd been leafing through and stepped into the corridor. "Hello, Professor."

"Hi, Katie! The Express just pulled into Hogsmeade. Longbottom will be loading the First Years onto the boats in about fifteen minutes. Want to head down to the Great Hall together?"

"Sure, let me get dressed real quick." Dashing back into her room, Katie threw on the grey and black robes that mirrored Madam Hooch's, then rejoined the Astronomy teacher in the hallway. "Okay, ready."

"How have you settled in so far?"

"Well enough, I suppose. Did you spend the whole summer here?"

"I did. Seeing the castle rebuilt helped lay the ghosts from last year to rest. You only got in yesterday, right?"

"Last night, actually."

"I saw you and Rolanda checking out the new brooms. How'd they do?"

"They're great. So new they practically sparkle," Katie said, trying to come to terms with how strange it was to walk through the empty castle, conversing with one of her old ('current?') professors like they were good friends. "Huge upgrade from the old school brooms. The incoming firsties have no idea how lucky they are."

Sinistra laughed. "Yea, those were ancient when I was a student. Although, it's generally advised that staff members don't call First Years 'firsties'."

"Oh, right. Sorry."

"Don't apologise! I know this all must feel terribly uncomfortable, but really, Katie: when Minerva proposed offering you a position, you got unanimous approval by the rest of the staff. Even Argus, grouchy old bastard that he is, had no problem with you."

"Filch? Really?"

She nodded. "Yep. Of course, when he found out Minerva promoted the head elf to a staff position equal to his own, he promptly quit. Last I heard, he was planning to retire to Gibraltar."

"Wow."

"I know, right?" Sinistra giggled - actually giggled, making this conversation even more surreal. "Guess he's going to soak up some sun on the beach, maybe find some pensioner that doesn't mind crotchety old geezers. Or maybe he'll just leer at muggle students taking their gap year."

"Gross! I did not need to picture that!" Still, even Katie was laughing now. "So there's no caretaker this year? Just house elves?"

Sinistra made a face like she smelled something rotten. "No, there's a new caretaker. I honestly prefer Filch, though. Do you think it's a job requirement that the caretaker have an awful pet?"

"Uh, I don't know-" Katie's confusion magnified when she rounded the corner from the Grand Staircase and almost crashed into a surprised Harry Potter. Or, at least she would have had he not immediately gripped and twisted her arm. "Ow! Harry?!"

As quickly as he'd grabbed her, she was released. "Sorry about that! You surprised me!"

"Jeez, next time just let me fall down, would you?" Katie shook out her shoulder, trying to relieve the dull throbbing in her arm. At least it hadn't been the cursed one he'd tried to almost yank off. "What are you even doing here?"

"Heading to the Great Hall, same as you."

"But why?"

"Oh, you didn't already know?" Sinistra broke into their conversation. "Harry's been made Defence Against the Dark Arts professor."

"That's great, congrats, Harry." He offered a grim smile and nodded at her words, but didn't seem any more pleased to be here than Katie did.

She idly wondered what blackmail McGonagall had on him to get him to take that job, but ultimately decided it hardly mattered. Whatever reason he had for being here, Katie was very happy to see him.

Well, maybe more relieved than happy. At least, she thought to herself as they entered the Great Hall, Sinistra gently linking her arms through theirs to steer them away from Gryffindor's table and towards the faculty's, having him here made it easier on her.

Now, when Hogwarts: A History published their next update, the article on 'youngest instructor' would no longer be a picture of a failed charity case, repeating her Seventh Year for the third time.

It was the first cheerful thought to cross Katie Bell's mind in months, and she latched onto it. Life was too terrible to not enjoy the little things.

A/N: Well, here it is. I've been talking about this one for awhile, and writing it for even longer. Despite that fact, this is the first time since my very first fic that I've written a story where I legitimately don't know how it will end. Maybe it'll be a disaster, who knows?

Writing a depressed main character is... not going to be pretty. Katie's bitter, angry, and simultaneously consumed by out-of-control self-pity and self-hatred. She's arguably the most flawed character I've ever written, and I may fail completely at doing her justice. To be honest, if this ends with Katie having a happy ending, that'll likely be the most 'wish-fulfillment' I've ever put in my writing.

AMR's still in the pipeline. Hoping for a Monday/Tuesday publication of that chapter. Tentatively (very tentatively) my planned update order is: AMR, Pathfinder-fic, PTWL, TSF, BtL, WSW (all abbreviations of my story titles). Naturally, we'll have to see if I can stick to it.

~Frickles