Always a Bridesmaid, Never a Bride

Rating: PG-13

Summary: Katie Bell has been alone for the last four years. After the wedding of her best friend, she heads to the Leakey Cauldron. After she gets drunk, will she make some mistakes that she'll regret later? Oliver Wood/Katie Bell

Disclaimer: Lazy bum that I am, cannot come up with a funny disclaimer, I don't own Harry Potter. I only own my clothes and a rubber duck named Mr. Giggles.

Chapter Three: Lady Luck, I really really hate you.

My heart stopped beating for several seconds as I stared at the sleeping form of Oliver Wood as I tried desperately to remember last nights events. I was drunk...Oliver met me at the Leaky Cauldron...we went for a walk...he took me to his house...and....we had made passionate love... "Shit, shit, shit!" I whispered under my breath getting out the bed slowly as not to wake Oliver. I looked for a bathroom and found one in the corner of the room. I went in and turned on the shower, full blast. I scrubbed myself silly, ignoring the throbbing pain coming from my head. I got out, wrapping myself in a towel, and ventured out to grab my clothing. It was thrown all over the room, and took a while to find my shirt which was draped on a dresser that nearly reached the ceiling.

Oliver was thankfully still asleep. If Lady Luck was with me, I might be able to just get my clothes on and leave, without Oliver any the wiser. He'll just think it was a dream. A very erotic dream, but still a dream, and I'd still have my dignity intact.

I was slipping on my left boot when I heard Oliver croak, "Kates?"

Lady Luck, I hate you for leaving me at the last minute. I really, really hate you.

Oliver was sitting up in bed, looking at me, his hair a complete and total mess. "Oliver..." I said, my voice an octave higher than usual. "I was just going to..."

I stopped talking at seeing the look on his face. "We need to talk." He said softly.

I swear those are the worst four letters in the English language when put in that order.

I sat down on the bed, trying not to think that he was completely naked under those covers. "Look, Oliver," I began hurriedly. " I'm so sorry, I'm terribly embarrassed, and I can totally understand if you completely hate my guts, I was a total spaz last night. I was really drunk last night..." Oliver put a hand over my mouth to shut me up.

"I don't blame you Katie." He said. "I don't blame you at all. It was my fault. You were drunk and I wasn't, so I'm completely responsible. I should have stopped it but I didn't. I'm sorry." He dark brown eyes looked so pained. "It wasn't your fault, Katie." He said in almost a whisper.

"I was the one that decided to get sloshed in a strange neighborhood!" I said indignantly. I always had a problem with people trying to take the blame off me. I have no idea why, but I think it has something to do with all the times that I had to cover for Fred and George's pranks so that they didn't get expelled from Hogwarts.

"From what you told me, you were pretty upset Kates." Oliver said sincerely.

I stared at him. How much had I told him? I hope I didn't ramble like I usually do when I'm drunk... oh hell, I probably did. Stupid, stupid, stupid!

"Oliver, I hate to do this, but I have to go, I'm late for work." I said lamely.

He nodded, looking at his watch. "Well, send me an owl, okay? Don't be a stranger."

Don't be a stranger. HA! I was probably more of a stranger this morning than I was last night!

*+*

I hurried into my office at about nine-fifteen. I was fifteen minutes late. I tried to sneak in the back way, so I could whip up a quick Hangover-Cure in my office before my boss decided to pay me a visit, but he was already in my office when I got there.

"Ms. Bell." Vince Morningside said. He had a loud nasal voice. Not a good combination. Whenever he starts talking for long periods of time, I get a headache. He's a tiny guy, only about up to my chin, but he thinks he's all that. He's got his black hair slicked back, with a tiny curl that curls on his forehead (think Danny from Grease) and thick square glasses and he constantly checks over his shoulder, which gets annoying, fast! In fact, Vince is the most annoying person the planet. Just because I happen to be the only female employee in Magical Theory Corps, does not mean I have to perform sexual favors for a promotion. Obviously, Vince thinks so. That's why I'm still the lowest employee.

"You're late again." He said, tapping his fingers

"I'm really sorry, Mr. Morningside..." I began, but he cut me off.

"That is the fifth time this month!" He yelled. It's the second you moron. I thought, forcing myself not to roll my eyes. "I will not have lazy people on my staff, and you Ms. Bell are one of the most lazy people I have ever met!"

Mouth shut; keep your mouth shut Bell. I though to myself. Do not retaliate, you might get fired...

"And you have the audacity to walk in here and expect special treatment." Vince said loudly. "I find your work poor and attitude even poorer. You need to learn some manners or you'll never get anywhere in this business!"

I snapped. I wasn't having the best of mornings. "That's it!" I yelled. "You are such a pompous arrogant power-hunger mouse eating frog! You have no respect for me, or anyone in this office. You don't even deserve the little nametag they give you!" I flicked the name tag on his shirt. I started to reach in the drawers of my desk, and pulled out my personal belongings. "I quit!"

"You...you quit?" Vince stuttered. With his black framed square glasses and his round mouth opened in amazement, he really did look like a frog.

"Yeah, I quit." I repeated. "You really thought that I would put up with your constant abuse because I refused to suck your..."

"Shhh!" He hushed me, looking paranoid at the door.

"Yeah, well, you won't have to worry about me blabbing your secret to your staff." I put everything in a box. "You know, I think Jerry at the Department of International Cooperation is gay, so you can ask him to perform pleasure for you." I gave Vince a brief (and very fake) grin and left.

*+*

This is not good

Not good at all.

I'm 22-years-old and out of a job. After my outburst with Vince, I Apparated home and looked through the Daily Prophet for jobs. There was a possibility at Eeylops Owl Emporium, except for my allergies to mice, and that's what owls eat, unfortunately. I lay my head on my table, feeling very sorry for myself before getting a cup of hot peppermint tea with honey.

I was sipping on the wonderfully nice sweet taste of peppermint laced with honey when a knock sounded on my door. "Coming!" I said loudly.

I went to the front door, opened it, and saw Oliver standing on my faded Welcome mat. "Oh, you." I said dully. I wasn't in a good mood.

"Um...yeah, me." Oliver said with a small laugh. "Can I come in?"

"Oh, sure." I said, opening the door a little further. He walked into my dismal house.

"You live here?" He asked incredulously.

"Unfortunately, not all of us have Quidditch Contracts that ensures us a million galleons a year." I said, picking up random odds and ends as I lead Oliver to the kitchen. "Do you want some peppermint tea? I just made some."

"Yeah..." Oliver said, but he was obviously distracted by the water stains by the ceiling from the storm the day before yesterday.

I poured his tea into a china cup with a small delicate flower on it. I dropped a spoonful of honey in it and mixed it clockwise, watching him. He was taking in my house. Golden Quidditch boy. I thought to myself, smiling. He was so used to the big expensive French Riviera in Paris. I nearly laughed at the thought. My flat was small and cramped, but I was used to its bad side, and it's good. I had an excellent view of the creek out my bedroom window and I loved listening to the birds in the morning. But it wasn't the best flat in the world. I gave him the cup of tea and sat down myself. Oliver took a sip.

"So are you doing ok?" He asked, concern etched on his face.

Surprisingly, that statement was the funniest thing I had heard all day. "Yeah, I'm perfect." I said, blowing over the surface of my tea, cooling it. "I found out his morning that I was so drunk that I slept with the captain of my former Quidditch school's team, I quit my job, and now I might be forced to work at an owl shop. Yeah, I'm perfect."

Oliver choked on his tea. He started coughing. I patted him on the back. "What?" He said when he finally recovered. "You quit your job?"

"Yes." I said slowly, trying to approach the subject delicately. "I was being sexual harassed by my boss."

Oliver started look pissed off. Sort of like the time when Slytherin cancelled their match in seventh year two days before the match, so we had to play Hufflepuff. That was the first match Harry lost. "Look Ollie," I said in a offhand voice, using his stupid nickname I had given him in first year to annoy him. "It's no big deal. I'm a big girl! I can take care of myself. He's a stupid wimp anyways, you could've pushed him over with a stick."

Oliver shook his head. "It's not that, Kates." He said. "Look at this place! How are you going to eat without any money?"

I shrugged. I didn't want him to go all panicky on me. I panic well enough myself. "I'll get by somehow, Oliver."

Oliver looked adamant. "Look, Kates, I'll pull some strings at the Ministry to get you a job, okay?" Oliver looked deep into my eyes, pleading.

Damn him! He knew me too well. Every time at Hogwarts, when he wanted something from me, he's just adopt this sad hurt puppy look. That was the only way you would find me outside at five in the morning playing on the Quidditch pitch. I'm not saying I wasn't dedicated to Quidditch, but five in the morning!!

I sighed. "Fine, Oliver. But I'm still going to look for a job of my own, so don't go on a crusade to get me one alright?"

He nodded, grinning. "Well, I've got to get back to practice. I just wanted to see how you were doing." He smiled a brilliant I'm-Oliver-Wood-I-Can-Make-Grown-Woman-Faint-At-My-Feet smile. "We're playing the Ballycastle Bats on Wednesday." He said, putting on his jacket and lifted himself out of the chair. "Wish me luck."

"Break a leg." I said, sipping on my tea, feeling the honey slip over my taste buds.

Oliver groaned, rolling his eyes, but laughing all the same. "Knowing my luck, I probably will." He smiled once again. "See you Kates." And he Apparated out of my flat.

I smacked my head against the table several times, pain coarsing through my head, reminding me to make a Hangover-Cure plus a Headache-Cure. Why, why, WHY did I get drunk and sleep with him???