Author's Note: For full explanation of why I will definitely not get this done by tomorow, see profile.

Yes, long chapter, twice as long as the previous two chapters put together. Note: All the children of the Bell family have names that are of Irish origin, but have been made English by popularity. Although Brenna, Katherine, and Connor are all quite simple to pronnounce, the same is not true for Ana, Katie's older sister. Although the spelling, as well as baby books, leads you to believe that it is another form of Anna, it is completely untrue. Ana is a traditional Irish name that is also the name of the patron goddess of the earliest Celtic settlers. It is pronnounced AW-ne or AW-nay in the traditional Irish tongue.

Not like I'm Irish or anything. Right. Carry on.

Chapter 2

It was well after seven at night before I decided that I had better get home. You know my parents, Alicia. I am a full-grown witch and they still wait up for me. I decided to spare them the trouble and get home, wouldn't want to keep them up too late, you know? Especially after I explained how I ended up as an alternate. I wasn't sure how that would be taken at the time.

For speed, I decided to apparate home. Why speed, Alicia? Because, may I cordially remind you, you begged me to stay longer. Remember? And like the flake I am, I bowed to peer-pressure. Even though it forced me to do the one thing that made me scared out of my mind. Ever since I read about that girl getting splinched, it hasn't been my favorite form of travel. You know what I mean, next time those could be my arms left behind! It was only by luck that I passed that test, I'm telling you. But it was a twenty minute sprint, and I wasn't in the mood for that.

After apparating, I jogged up the yard that my father kept perfectly manicured at all times, expertly leaped over the pothole that was, strangely enough, in the middle of our perfectly manicured yard, and hopped up the stone steps leading to out large wooden door. Before knocking, or even entering, I leaned over and looked into the clear glass window next to the door. I couldn't see anyone, not even a shadow, but my brother's Nimbus 2001 (His pride and joy) as well as his shoes were tossed carelessly in the middle of the hallway. With such crucial items lying about, it was a safe bet that somebody was home.

Deciding against barging in, in case a game of exploding snap was in progress (which it usually was) and causing it to explode (which I usually did), I knocked first quietly on the door, and then louder a second time. The door swung open. "You're late", my thirteen-year-old brother informed me, looking bored. Bored is how his facial expression tends to look. Always. So I tried not to get any ideas from it.

"For what, pray tell, am I late for, Connor?", I asked in annoyance before a thought came over me. "Oh no", I moaned and slapped myself on the forehead.

"It's Sunday", Connor added, evenly and unnecessarily. He stepped aside so that I could join him in the foyer. My younger brother, but still taller than me by about two inches, brushed his long and shaggy hair out of his eyes. "Ana's here, as well as her boyfriend. Mum is stark-raving mad." He took my cloak and tossed it over a hook in the wall effortlessly.

Connor didn't have to tell me twice what the consequences would be. I had been late last Sunday also. As well as an additional lifetime of other Sundays. Blasted Sundays. Blasted Mum for being to anal about 'family dinner' on Sundays. "What should I do?", I pleaded for help. Why, exactly, I pleaded? I don't know. Might as well not answer that question and save my dignity.

Connor shrugged in a most helpful manner. "Tell her that you overslept. You took a nap, but forgot to check the time." I looked at him oddly, and wondered what was in it for him. Contrary to the last few comments, he was usually quite the model teenage boy and younger brother.

"Right. Nap." Hey, Alicia, any excuse was better than none at all. I nodded at him and gave him the OK sign with my fingers, before I strode confidently into the warm kitchen. On the stove, a boiling pot stirred itself, and my mother stood to the counter with her back to me.

"Hello Mum", I called out delicately, nervously pressing the pads of my fingers together. "I'm sorry I'm late, Mum. I took a nap. Forgot the check the time. You know how I am with time. I have a poor concept of it." Or so my father has said. Except in those cases it was used as a compliment. My dad admired people who didn't jump out of their skins in order to be on time. I twiddled my fingers hopefully. In the silence that followed you could hear the steady sound of my mother chopping some anonymous vegetable. Oh God. She was chopping something. With a knife. I found myself instinctively leaning back.

Without warning, the chopping ceased. I allowed myself a small sigh of relief, and found myself nose to nose with a very sharp, very pointed, very efficient butchers' knife. "Bullshit Katherine Bell, you were not napping. You used that same excuse last week." My mother informed me in a dangerously low voice. Oh, right. I knew something was wrong with Connor helping me. Shit shit shit. I could almost hear him smirking somewhere in the house. "Further more Katherine", she continued on in the same growl of a voice. "You smell like smoke and liquor. So unless you napped in a bar, you were going to have to do better than that." Yikes.

Further more, Alicia, is it actually possible to smell like liquor when you haven't drunk any? Or even snogged somebody who happened to take a swig? We must discuss this further. Next Friday at Leaky Cauldron? I'll buy.

I sidled in to save my own hide. Pushing the knife gently out of my general direction, I explained in my most calm and reasonable voice: "Well, you know, Mummy. They posted England National's roster earlier. I had to go and celebrate at the Leaky Cauldron with the girls and the twins. Mandatory, you know. Couldn't slip out".

My mother's face softened at the mention of quidditch. "I take it you made it, then? Good for you, following in Ana's footsteps." All of a sudden, I didn't feel so well. From a semi-high to an all-time low in one sentence, it was record pace. I didn't want to tell her that the Harpies were hardly in the same league as England National. I certainly didn't fell like telling her that I made only alternate, after my sister was assistant captain to the famous Gwenog Jones.

In one swift movement, my mother gave me a gentle shove to the counter and plunked a large pot in front of me. I groaned inwardly. "Mash them, Katherine." Was what she said, watching over my shoulder. I pulled my wand out of the back pocket of my pants to a deep sigh from my mother. "By hand, Katie. You know that they taste better that way." Yes, but Alicia do you know why? Last time I used magic I set fire to them. It was my turn to sigh, but took the utensil from my mother and glared down at the potatoes.

"So you made England National, Kate?" A voice came from directly in front of me; I could feel the argument coming on. You know how I am, Alicia. Not so much that I can feel them, but I can tell how I'm going to react to something and know when it's not good. I can feel arguments, and you can put a trendy, new outfit together in 2 minutes, 49 seconds flat.

The voice came from my sister, Ana, sitting at the table directly in front of me. My sister is everything that I am not, and basically all that I wanted to be at one point or another. She is tall (about a good five or six inches taller than me) and willowy, with an actual chest and hips at age22. As opposed to my 5'5" frame that is, at it's best, on the slim side. We usually get along quite well. For the most part. Both she and my brother inherited the less-talked about Irish stereotypical look of shock-straight black hair and dark blue eyes. From my mum, of course. While I got stuck with dark blonde hair that was straight enough, but has a funny tendency of flipping strange ways on the end, and (finally) the familial eyes.

Everyone has always said that I look exactly like my dad, blonde and built, and that my siblings are carbon copies of my mother, tall, willowy, and very, very Irish. I prefer looking like my dad, for the most part, though. We are very similar in temperaments, and…oh, I suppose you know all of this. Anyways…

"Eh", I eyed the fellow sitting next to her. Dave has been her boyfriend for the past few years. I've never completely trusted him, no matter how often he is with us. He's awfully twitchy. Once, I dropped a book and he covered his head with his hands. I don't know how such a soft-spoken individual and my sister could ever get along. Instead of answering her question, I narrowed my eyes at Dave and said clearly, "Hello, David", before wailing into the potatoes mercilessly with the metal instrument that I had been given.

" Hello", Dave answered nervously, looking about in a jerky motion while my sister gave me a sneer and said, "Because Grenog was owled the list. It looked like you only made alternate."

You know, there is only so much abuse that one girl can take in one day before she snaps. "You know what, Ana? Yeah, I did make alternate. Why don't you keep your bitchy comments to yourself next time?" For emphasis, I pulled out the potato masher and pointed it in her direction, flinging mashed potato bits all over the counter. Thrusting it at her, I went into such a swearing frenzy that my mother smacked me over my head and took the potatoes away from me.

"Do not ever speak to your sister, or brother for that matter, like that. Ever. Next time I hear you, Katherine, you will just have to find somewhere else to eat on Sundays." She shook her head, and scooped the potatoes into a large bowl. "How did I end up with such an antagonistic child?" She pondered this aloud, of course. Probably in order to lower my self-esteem or to make me even more mad.

"No more Sundays? You mean that I can still live here, but get out of eating here when she--", I pointed an accusing finger at Ana as I pulled out a chair to the table and threw myself down on it, "-- is here? Pity." I snarled, and crossed my arms over my stomach. Dave looked uncomfortable. I bet if he could have run, he would have. He has always looked like he could be fast.

My mother shot me a warning glance, and then called my father and brother to dinner. Ana turned to face me and smiled in her sickly sweet fashion. "I just don't know why you didn't tell us that you were an alternate in the first place. It's still good, you know."

I furrowed my brow as my brother thundered down the stairs to my right. "Go to hell, Ana." I grumbled, and caught Connor by the arm as he tried to rush past. "You're sitting by me tonight, Con. I owe you so much, especially after that handy excuse." I grinned, but not in a happy manner. Alicia, you are so lucky that you are an only child. It's a full time job, honestly, trying to keep the both of them in line.

Connor, I'm happy to report, blanched and allowed me to pull him into the seat next to me. The back door swung open and my father strode in, looking extremely dirty. And I mean it, Alicia. Dirt all over his pants, his shirt, his robe, his face. If his long hair wasn't pulled back, I'm sure there would have been some there too. I suppose as he owns a Herbology shop, he doesn't realize that there are other ways to look. But I lightened up right away. My dad was one of my favorite people in the world.

"Kate!" My father wrapped me in a bear-hug which was, sadly enough, the most love that I had gotten from anybody all day. "From what I hear, the players of England National have strengthened your vocabulary already." He grinned. England's players are known to have excessively dirty mouths, and I know that you believeit after hearing my increased lexicon.

I smiled back. "See Mum? Dad thinks that I'm an accomplished woman, even if you don't." I turned back to him. "I made alternate, you know. Not great, but not bad either. If I didn't make it, I was going to try out for Puddlemere. Or Pride, maybe."

My father laughed, and patted my head as he went to sit down. "That's my Kate, the accomplished woman. Congratulations are in order." He raised his glass in my direction, and downed the water inside without a pause. Now, why can't I drink like that, I ask you Alicia?

"Don't encourage her, Joseph", My mother snapped as she brought the food to the table, and then sagged into her own chair. She was probably jealous that she didn't get toasted. Ha, I say.

Connor shook his head suddenly. "Nah", he said assuredly, his face screwed up, for once not in boredom, but in concentration. "Nah, you wouldn't have tried out for Pride. I wouldn't have let you. Their keeper is mad, I tell you. Absolutely out of his head bonkers. Missed a shot, and hit his own head on the goal post on purpose once." My little brother was, himself, emerging into the world of quidditch and taking the place of my father, who had played "a year of two professionally" as keeper of the Arrows. Connor was just moved up as keeper of the Ravenclaw team in the past couple of months.

"That's right!", Ana interjected, and leaned forward. "Wilbur, or something to that effect? I've met him. Con is right. He is nuts." She nodded her head toward Dave, who nodded back. This made me wonder if Dave did or said anything for himself, and I decided to find out. I almost hated myself as I did.

"So Dave," I started, spooning mashed potatoes onto my plate, "What have you been doing all weekend? I'm curious to know." I passed the potatoes to Connor, who nearly missed the bowl and had my perfectly mashed potatoes splattered on his lap.

Dave looked anxious, and started stabbing at his peas with his fork. "Well, Katie, I…uh…", he looked to Ana, then back down to his plate, and then at me. I had just finished decorating my plate with gravy, and nearly succeeded in dumping the hot gravy boat on my brother's lap. He gave a yelp of surprise, and dropped it onto the table. My mother gave me a stern glare, and I leaned foreword and gazed at David with an absorbed look.

"I…I cleaned my flat?" He looked at Ana, and then to me. I shrugged. Why was he looking at me? "Did you?", I asked him, looking enthralled. "Dusted and everything?" My mom flicked my knee under the table. Which is no joke; she has always had long fingernails. But it's not as if I can control my sarcasm, you know Alicia. It comes and goes.

"Yes", Dave concluded, and shoved his fork (complete with three peas) into his mouth. Beside me my brother sniggered. Although I am not usually apt to do this, I had to agree with him. I would have rather been stuck at a table with Wilbur himself, whacking his bloody head on the table once for every pea eaten. Mad or not, it would have been much more interesting.

"How lovely!", My mother praised Dave, who couldn't answer, I'm sure, due to the fact that his mouth was so chock full. "You know, I wish that my children would clean their bedrooms! Imagine when they have an entire flat!" She giggled, tossing her black hair over her shoulder. Okay Mum, not funny.

Connor and I stared at her blankly, Ana snorted into her butterbeer, my father was inspecting a cut on the back of his hand, and Dave just looked from Ana, to my mother, and back again. I'm sure that he didn't know whether to laugh and suck up to my mother, or to shut up, and keep himself out of family scuffles. Dave settled for just nodding, and taking a gulp of his butterbeer.

Realizing that she wasn't being taken seriously (or un-seriously, for that matter), Mum just carefully blanked her face and looked to my brother. "Have you started packing, dear? I think that we need to get more boxes." She sawed at her roast beef, and looked at the clock above the fireplace idly.

Connor grunted, and paused in the middle of spooning food into his mouth long enough to answer. "No." He shook his hair off of his face, and then continued eating ravenously. How I envy him. Why can't I eat that fast? It must be his gift.

I tried to pull a George and raise an eyebrow, but ended up lifting both as well as wrinkling my forehead. Which was, I'm sure, unique looking, but that was no excuse for my sister to snort in laughter so loudly that she had to cover her mouth with a napkin.

"Isn't it a bit early to be packing for Hogwarts?", I asked, after I dropped the facial expression. All noise from around the table ceased, and everyone became very interested in their food. With the exception of poor David, who was still stabbing at those unfortunate peas, squeaking his fork against the plate.

"Not packing for Hogwarts", Connor mumbled between bites.

"Ah. Moving to the basement, then, are you Con? That's okay, I have plans for your room." Finally. I had been waiting so long for his request for his bedroom to be moved to the basement to be stamped with approval. I have collected so many pictures, you see Alicia, and planned to hang then on the walls—

"Not moving to basement", Connor spoke, irritated, around a piece of beef.

"You're not moving out, are you? Because that way I can have the basement and your bedroom. It would be fantastic!" A dreamy look passed over my face. "I'm not sure what I will do with all the room, but I'm sure that Alicia and Angelina will have some ideas. Who was it that kicked you out? Mum or--" I was cut off by my extremely aggravated brother.

"We're moving, dammit Katie! You have to pack, too!" Conner bellowed this, as he slammed down his fork.

"What?", I choked out, dropping my utensils as well. "What? Where to? Why?" I cried that last bit. You know how much it hurts to be left out of a group? It hurt so much more being left out of a family decision. Dave the Inept Eater probably knew about it, judging by the pitiful look that he gave me.

"To Ireland. Now will you let me eat?" Connor didn't wait for me to answer and he went back to stuffing his face. I didn't blame him, anyway. He wouldn't have chosen to move, we live next door to his best friend. They listen to the wireless together, play Wizards' chess together, they are even both going into their 3rd year in Ravenclaw together. Emmy has the same attitude as he does, positive and always ready to wing-it. I don't know what he'll do without her.

As soon as I heard 'Ireland', I realized who it must have been who organized the move. I sprang up out of my chair and pointed a finger down at my mum. "It was YOU!", I screeched. "You don't want me to play quidditch here! I have to live here, Mum! If I move, then I'm ineligible to play. Even if I could, continental-apparating is even more dangerous than regular apparition!" I dropped my finger in a dejected way. "Mummy, how could you do this? You know that I have no money for a flat! You know that my friends already have room-mates!" My mum has wanted to move back home to Ireland since I was little, but my dad has always had the shop here. That and we're much closer to King's Cross Station, so we don't have to leave as early to catch the train.

Ana wasted no time in butting in. "Mum, tell Kate why we are moving back to Ireland. Just like I explained it to you." Her eyes narrowed at me, and she tilted her head towards mum. "Listen to her, Katie. You might learn something".

I looked back to mum, expecting her to tell me exactly why we were moving to Ireland, and she took a breath, and said in a monotone that was clearly rehearsed (I mean, do I look stupid, Alicia?): "We are moving to Ireland because I am moving out of the cookie-cutter patriarchal society and standing up for women's rights all over the wizarding world. It is important for a woman's needs and wants to be heard--"

I didn't let her finish, before I looked to my sister. I knew she was a feminist, protesting all sorts of things like laws and quidditch teams, and being assistant captain to the only all-female professional team in the world, but she didn't need to screw everything up for me. I looked over to my dad, who's bored expression looked identical to Connor's. Poor Dad. Looks as if he had lost this argument long-ago.

"You did this to me!", I cried. "You know that dad would do anything for mum!"

Her reply? "I'm only helping her to see that her needs need to be realized, and are just as important as Dad's." Let me tell you what, Alicia, my father treats my mum like a queen. Is it so bad that he just didn't want to move back to Ireland for about 22 years? He was, after all, born and raised in England.

"You brainwashed her, you mean!" was what I shouted, as I threw myself over the table. "You indirectly ruined my life, Ana! I hate you! I hate you! I have no where to live, and it's your fault!" As we both fell to the floor, Dave jumped out of his seat in order to avoid being hit. Ana hopped off of the floor and I followed suit

Ana had me on all counts, she was taller, stronger, and her arms were longer. My only advantage was that I was smaller, and as she tried to keep me at arms length by pushing on my shoulders, I managed to twist away.

I heard my mother gasp, "Katherine!", and my father yell, "Girls, that's enough!", but I really wanted to hurt Ana, Alicia. You must understand. In one fell swoop, I was rendered homeless. I still don't know why she didn't hex me, or why Mum or Dad didn't charm us to spring apart. They must have been as surprised at me as I was.

I only stopped trying to get at her when my brother (who had stopped eating in this time, imagine!), wrapped his arms around my body and pinned my hands to my sides. "Kate, calm down.", was what he muttered into my ear as he pulled me to the other side of the kitchen.

"Katherine!", My mother had a hand to her heart. "That was completely uncalled for! Your sister was only trying to help me when she suggested that I take a stand!" I struggled to get to Ana again, but Connor was strong. I have to hand it to him, Alicia.

"Katherine Bell, this is the last straw. I'm sorry to do this, but I am kicking you out of this house. That behavior was uncalled for. We're leaving in a week; I hope that you will have your things out of it by then."

My father looked alarmed. "Brenna, that is uncalled for, don't you think? Honestly, she's our own child!" His mouth was shut with a quick glance from my mother. Apparently he didn't want rumors about himself as a misogynist floating around. I could understand that. He gave me an apologetic glance.

"Fine!", I spat with distaste towards my mother as I wrestled myself out of Connor's arms. He went back to standing casually with his bored expression (My own mother, I'm telling you Alicia!). "I'm sleeping against the house tonight! And when the neighbors ask, tell them that you were standing up for women's rights when you sent me to sleep outside!" And with that, I stalked out the front door and slammed it shut behind me.