Title: Resisting the Inevitable

Author: Miss Anthrope

Rating: M for Magnificent

Reason 2:Immature arguments, actions, etc... abound that may not exactly be good for your health.

Dedication(s): To K, S, A, and M who constantly make my life even more screwy than any fanfiction-- parodies included. Anyway. Also to Fizzing Whizbeez who had been kind enough to help me out with this story and am forever grateful for.

Summary: Taking care of Oliver Wood is about as frustrating as babysitting your prissy four-year-old sister. With Katie as his personal assistant, there's quite a chance of her eventually fancying him-- that is if she doesn't murder him first.

mornings and midgets

At seven o'clock, I was happy to note that not only had I managed to fit in a decent bath within a mere ten minutes— yes, I even washed my hair—but had already gone out the door, actually rearing to get a start this Monday morning in my semi-formal outfit comprised mainly of just a plain white shirt, a slightly faded peasant skirt, and of course, my trusty pair of white laced sandals which I had refused to be thrown out despite my mother's judgment.

So what if they are already slightly "falling apart", as she calls it?

Is it my fault that they are the only pair of decent high heels out there that don't leave you with blisters after just using it for a day?

…

I knew it.

Well onto brighter news, I had also within that morning received a note from Coach Flithers, a retired player from the Puddlemere United as well, who had been kind enough to notify me that the team had yet another party last night for Merlin only knows what. He had also mentioned an extra supply of Pepper Up Potion in the back of medicine cabinet, just in case I needed it later to bring back an undoubtedly soused Oliver Wood. I refused to let this inevitable task bring down my unusually positive day, and even decided to buy a cup of coffee for myself and for Wood on my way through Diagon Alley.

'If that Pepper Up Potion of his doesn't work again, maybe this might.' I mused slightly as I looked for a clearing among the streets to apparate. 'I heard that a quick spill of boiling water works wonders in waking up the human system compared to the usual cold shower.'

A quick POP later, I was standing in the midst of what seemed like the site of some catastrophic event I had somehow missed.

'Maybe I missed the late invasion last night…'

Glasses, bottles, and goblets were practically everywhere from the marble mantle, to what had been a kitchen sink, and even astoundingly, the aquarium which was now tinted red from the drink.

'And to think that it had taken me weeks to get that installed!'

I carefully stepped over a large pile of a purple something I swear I saw glide voluntarily from its place and across the chaotic room as though looking for a place to breed. A shiver ran down my spine at the thought of millions of globs and quickly waved my wand about until at last every morsel of filth was once more removed until the next night.

But then again, I swear that the Purple Menace, as I had so called it, still lurks somewhere in there, just waiting…

…Er, right.

"OLIVER! OLIVER WOOD!" I noisily treaded up the staircase, making sure to pound my feet especially hard against the wood so that every stomp could be heard throughout the large flat. "YOU HAD BETTER BE AWAKE BY NOW OR ELSE I SWEAR I'M GOING TO SPILL THIS COFFEE OVER YOUR HEAD!"

Walking down the familiar hallway, I absentmindedly turned left into the bathroom and pulled out the bottle of thick green potion hidden behind some hair products which truly smelled sinister to begin with.

"I HOPE YOU REMEMBER WHAT I TOLD YOU YESTERDAY ABOUT HAVING A MEETING TODAY WITH THE DEPARTMENT OF MAGICAL GAMES AND SPORTS IN THE MINISTRY! BUT KNOWING YOU…"

Surprisingly, no shouts of protests had yet come from the bedroom, but neither did any other noise of movement. Once again my day seemed to brighten at the thought that I had been lucky enough, and Oliver had gotten himself in a coma from a booze overdose.

Well a girl can dream, anyway.

Sighing, I quickly took my ammunitions with me before wrenching open the door only to be greeted with a sight I had never particularly favored even in the multiple times in the past.

'This just had to happen today! Merlin have mercy on Wood's soul when I write about this to his mother in my next letter.'

And believe me when I tell you that his mother can most definitely send one hell of a howler.

No longer in my happy-go-lucky mood from ten seconds earlier, I felt my eyes narrow considerably before quickly slammed the door behind me and with a flick of my wrists, ordered that all the curtains be pushed aside to let in several blinding beams of early sunlight. I then stomped once more heavily to the head of the bed, and after searching through the thick duvet for tufts of short light brown hair, pulled down enough cloth to see Oliver's face before giving him a backhand dead on the face.

"WHAT IN THE FUCKING WORLD WAS THAT?"

Bloody bastard.

I didn't even bother to check whether or not I had given Oliver a broken nose, but instead chucked carelessly in his general direction the Pepper Up Potion, while I on the other hand, had conjured my daily planner.

THUD.

"WHAT THE BLOODY HELL IS GOING ON?"

'So that bottle did hit him.' A slow smile crept up to my face, which I knew some- mainly, Oliver- would call "sadistic". 'Oh well, couldn't have hurt him enough for a concussion anyway.'

"Good morning to you too, Wood. Now seeing as how you're more or less awake and I'll just repeat my early announcement you most likely wasn't here for or managed to retain even just an iota of it within your puny, insignificant 'mind'." I watched with utter satisfaction as Oliver looked up even more helpless than usual, his brain obviously working overdrive to understand the meaning of iota, which I admittedly used purposely to confuse his already twisted and psychotic mind.

'Serves him right that little insensitive rat…'

"So like I said, you have a meeting in the Ministry with the rest of Puddlemere at exactly eight thirty in the Department of Magical Games And Sports. The specific subject of discussion is yet to be brought up, but attire required is at the least, semi-formal. I have already given you the bottle so remember to drink only a tablespoon of the Pepper Up with a glass of water, I'm sure you can get that for yourself in the kitchen seeing as how you are capable of other things."

After that brusque number, I didn't bother wasting my time further as I quickly stepped out of the room and to the aforementioned kitchen, spacious with the cleverly arranged appliances, where with the help once more of my wand, I whipped up in record time a couple of peanut butter sandwiches and packed some with me, leaving quite a few on the plate.

"Just get yourself fully dressed and in one piece to the office at the most, in ten minutes." I hurriedly instructed the still disoriented buffoon who at least had the slight decency to grab a robe on the way. "Your breakfast is with me, so just think of it as one of your motivations to move faster, the other one being of course the fact that you'll get a good bashing from your coach if you don't. I'll go on ahead with the team just incase you'll be missing anything. It starts in twenty minutes so I suggest you fix your nose quickly."

I already felt an evil laugh just waiting to be heard as I glimpsed at his crooked nose.

Haha, big stupid dumb jerk!

"And lastly, make sure that girl of yours is awake and quietly out of here as soon as possible unless we want the press all over this…"

'…You big oaf…'

With another POP, I quickly disapparated, furious as ever and just in time before another person entered the picture.

"Katie! Katie! Kates!"

Pshaw, like I want to even talk to him now.

'After what he pulled this morning, he'll be lucky if I don't kill him before lunch.'

"Oh, c'mon Kates!" Huge dark brown eyes, now that I think about it, which looked very much like an elf's, suddenly came into view. As if I'll fall for that puppy face…again. "I'm sorry, alright? I was drunk and well, I'm a man, and she's a woman. Do I still need to do this?" Silence. "Fine…Well, when a man and a woman—"

"WILL YOU JUST SHUT UP?" I hissed sharply at him, and swear that all I needed now was my forked tongue and tail and hello Slytherin, judging by Oliver's look. "Look, we're about to go to a very important meeting so could you please stop talking just pay attention or at least pretend."

"I only did it for your forgiveness."

…

What in the world is this boy on, anyway?

"What the bloody hell are you talking about forgiveness?"

"You know, forgiveness." And looking at his raised eyebrows, I had a faint idea that Oliver had somehow gotten himself a lifetime supply of cocaine I must've missed during my visit over to his apartment; that, or just he was stupider than I gave him credit for.

'I think I'll be kind and stick to the last one.'

"I didn't say anything about forgiveness you imbecile!"

Wheels turning…

…Turning…

…

…Turning…

…

…And then…

…

"You didn't?" Oliver looked at me incredulously, eyes wide and one eyebrow cocked up, though I had never known he had the ability to do so. "But I had given you my apology- very heartfelt by the way—, you replied, which in other words means that you did give a confirmation of your forgiveness."

"If you actually took the time to listen, which is obviously a no, you would've heard what I said which was, and I quote, 'WILL YOU JUST SHUT UP?' before I continued to tell you to stop talking and pay attention you—you ninny!" I threw him a sharp look before slapping him slightly on the arm. "And by the way also, your apology was definitely not heartfelt since you were just trying to coerce me into accepting it with that perverted story you've been trying out lately as a part of your speech."

"AND THAT'S WHAT I GET IN RETURN FOR A BLOODIED NOSE AND AN INJURED HEAD?"

"WELL YOU DESERVED IT ANYWAY! HOW MANY TIMES HAVE I TOLD YOU—"

"JUST THAT, AND I GET PHYSICAL HARASSMENT?"

"HOW ABOUT MENTAL HARASSMENT! HOW MANY BLOODY TIMES DO I NEED TO GET IT THROUGH YOUR THICK AND ALREADY PREVIOUSLY DAMAGED BRAIN THAT YOU HAVE TO STOP YOUR ONE-NIGHT STANDS IF YOU WANT TO KEEP A GOOD IMAGE!"

"WELL I'M—"

"WILL YOU TWO STOP IT AT LEAST FOR NOW?" Averting my eyes from the baboon across me, I was surprised to see the rest of the Puddlemere United team staring back at us, most sniggering, and at the front, Coach Flithers, who only on rare occasions, was sporting a dark puce color and a vein throbbing heavily near his temple. "YOU TWO CAN CONTINUE YOUR POINTLESS ARGUMENT LATER, BUT FOR NOW, STOP IT!"

'He didn't have to be so harsh…'

I bowed my head down a little and glimpsed quickly at Oliver who was also doing something similar. On cue, the tall double doors from across the room flew open to reveal several robed men, some of whom were carrying expensive briefcases based on the fact that they were fashioned of dragon hide, a material that's almost impossible to get in large quantities. Well according to the twins anyway.

"Team, I'd like you to meet some of the top members of the department." Coach Flithers immediately stood as he gestured to the newly entered officials, and guessing by the way he was staring at us, we should be doing the same. "This is of course is Caspian Lantuela, the head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports." An almost exact replica of old Professor Flitwick, save for the fact that he seemed to be more than six feet, stepped forward and nodded politely, whereas I could only glare intensely at the marbled floor to keep myself from laughing like the maniac I secretly am. "And this of course is his right hand man, Beauregard Rosier." Admittedly half expecting to be introduced to a part Hagrid and part Professor Binns hybrid, my mouth was probably sagging when I suddenly a met a man who to me, can only be described as one hot piece of ass.

I didn't even try to listen to the rest of the introduction, but instead spent my time trying to move further into the back while silently cursing myself on my bad choice of clothing which was now causing me to suffer a great deal of trauma.

'Couldn't Coach Flithers have mentioned in his note that there was actually going to be a man less than the age of forty attending this meeting, or at least added that there was a fifty percent chance of that happening?' My cheeks burned at the though which led to my wincing, suddenly remembering that today I had managed to swipe on some blush which would make it even more noticeable. 'Merlin, I must look like I'm ready to break out in hives or something equally repulsive…'

"Flithers," In all my life, I doubt that I will ever again find any man (or possible, woman) who will be able to top off the seductive baritone that I had just heard. Forgetting all about my cherry colored face, I quickly looked up to find to my small surprise that it was Beauregard who was talking, and gods, I was melting all over again. "We weren't aware that you have added a new player to Puddlemere." By this time, I was actually just watching his mouth move with each word that it was only when I felt a sharp jab to my ribs, complements of Smith— another player— that I realized that he was actually talking about me.

'Please don't tell me that he saw me staring at his perfectly shaped and most likely delicious— er, lips…'

"Oh, she's not part of the team." Replied Coach gruffly.

"I see, and why are you here with the team then…?" the darkness of his green eyes startled me as for some reason, Beauregard had decided to look at me.

"Katie Bell," I provided astoundingly without me stuttering or including my recent observations of how his nicely tousled jet-black hair seemed to match perfectly his slight tan, as well as the dark robes he was wearing, which by the way seemed to be made specifically to emphasize his lean build. "I work as Oliver Wood's personal assistant." Tentatively reaching out to take his outstretched hand, I was even more flushed as he brought it to his lips—, which was just as soft as I had imagined—and looked back up at me.

"Call me Gerard, I think it's much easier to say as opposed to my entire name."

Yes, I was just in the middle of what seemed to be some part of a surreal yet more than enjoyable dream, when an extremely rude git had suddenly decided to ruin the moment with a cough.

"We are here to talk about the finalizations of Puddlemere United joining the Quidditch World Cup, aren't we, Rosier?" A stocky man said edgily, who in my opinion, reminded me greatly of a house elf seeing as how he was so short that I wouldn't be surprised if he only came up to my knees. About six others around him nodded in agreement, all of whom seemed to have the same case of receding hair lines, enormous eye bags, and heights that couldn't have gone past three feet.

'Cranky senile coots!' I thought accusingly as I took back my seat. 'Just cause their most likely virgins even at age seventy-five, doesn't mean we all want to be.'

"So, seeing as Mr. Jensen had so kindly pointed out what it is that we're here for," Mister Lantuela, who unlike Professor Flitwick, took over the meeting at once in a brisk manner that was much like my old Transfiguration professor, McGonagall, "let's get down to business, shall we?"

After more than an hour's worth of hearing pages upon pages of contracts being turned ("Just to make it clear that the team knows that all injuries, losses, possibly, deaths, etc. are not the responsibility of the Ministry in any way" Elf #1, as I had appropriately named one of Mister Jensen's companions, said coolly), quills scratching heavily upon the stacks of parchment, and the droning of more than a dozen or so men who find the topics of investing in Gringotts stocks and the quidditch stats of every quidditch player in the league as some of the most interesting yet, I was more than overjoyed to find that I was once again free.

'Ten more minutes of listening to them talking about the fluctuating rates on the American market as opposed to the Asian regions, and I swear, I wouldn't doubt for a second that I would've thrown one of them out the window!'

Plastering on a grin, which I felt was more or less convincing, I politely kept my mouth shut and just nodded to each of the officials who had begun shaking the hands of the players. It was only when Oliver suddenly whispered "Keep smiling like that and maybe we might have to just drop you off in St. Mungo's— which by the way, is fine by me." that made the task just a tad bit difficult, especially since I had taken it upon myself to retaliate with a quick stomp of my heel on his toes.

I knew there was another reason why I kept these sandals!

"BLOODY—"

Oliver suddenly turned beet red from his outburst and apologized lightly, saying that he had just hit the foot of the table all the while glaring at me openly. In his attempt at revenge, the little sore loser quickly took hold of elbow and began steering me away from the conference room without even giving me time to say goodbye to a certain green-eyed-black-haired man who isn't Harry Potter.

Not that I had been planning to do anything else aside from that or anything…

…You know, just a courteous goodbye…

…Maybe over a cup of coffee in Diagon Alley…

"WHAT WAS THAT FOR?" Oliver waved hastily to a group of Ministry workers who had begun waving back at him, their cameras flashing just as wildly.

I looked at him innocently as though I had no idea that he was now slightly limping due to the fact that I may have crushed his right foot's toes just a bit. Taking out once more my planner, I began checking out this day's first agenda and pretended to busy myself with arranging the rest of the details for the afternoon activities when I was actually just using the pages to hide my growing smirk.

'Only 10:45 in the morning and I've already caused over three bodily harms! I am on a roll!'

"Alright, stop pretending not knowing what I'm talking about." His defeated sigh was music to my ears and at once I started paying attention. "So I may have deserved that last one and believe me, I'm not faking this limp."

And…?

Anything else you want to add to your sad excuse of an apology?

…

'Er, was that it?'

Frowning at the unexpected silence, I turned back up at Wood and saw that he was actually waiting for my response. As if I was gonna let him off the hook already, particularly since I don't consider it at the least complete.

"Oh, c'mon!" I love it when he whines. Makes him sound even more desperate. "Do I really need to say sorry also for this morning? I mean, wasn't getting a slap as a wake-up call and then having a bottle thrown right at your face enough?" Oliver threw me an incredulous look as though I was the one who was nutters among us…not that I'd admit it anyway. "Didn't you see my broken nose?"

"And so?" I gave him my own death glare and as guaranteed, a flash of fear went through his eyes right before he was about to use his Puppy Face on me. "Look, Wood, I really don't want to go back to arguing right now as much fun as it does sound, but this morning was just unacceptable! You promised me two months ago you'd stop seeing as how you didn't exactly get the best taste of the media after that whole scandal with whatserface. One month later I caught you but then I let it slide and then you promised me that it was the very last time and you were sorry." To add even further to his guilt baggage, I had begun to rub the tips of my fingers lightly across the top of my forehead as though the very subject itself had caused me a migraine. "And this morning, even after you promised me—"

I cut off shortly and let out my own sigh, one that I had learned not too long ago from the masters themselves, the Weasley Twins.

'I've got to remember to thank them for this next time I stop by the shop again.'

"Look…Kates…" The sincere look on Oliver's face was almost heartbreaking as he pulled me gently towards him as though already half expecting me to be in tears from the frustration. I was right about to cave in and tell him that I was just joking when the man just had to start speaking. "Look, I'm sorry alright…I didn't mean to break my promise. It's just that, well, I was drunk and from now on, I promise to keep that promise, I swear—" a pause elapsed and I would be lying if I didn't say I wasn't excited as to what he was going to say next. "-on my broomstick collection, Kates."

Aww…on his one-of-a-kind broomstick collection…

…

…Damn he's good at this!

Can't believe he's making me feel guilty along with him, that little sneak!

"Oh, Merlin, I can't believe I fell for that act again!" I was happy to see a smile back on Oliver's face by the time I had taken the courage to look back at him. At least now it made it slightly easier to make a fool out of him again. "So, aside from getting a chance on my broomstick collection, is there anything else I can do as payback for my earlier actions…though again, feel free not to comment as well."

'So this is why I managed to stand him for more than a year…'

"Well, I was actually thinking about maybe a couple of butterbeers could do the trick…" I whimpered for just an extra precaution as I caught him looking back at me with a mad twinkle in his eye, which meant that despite all the mess we had made so far this day, he was still having himself some fun.

"Really? Just a couple of butterbeers?"

Well…

"Now that you mention it, you did just ruin my chances with Gerard, so maybe we could drop by Honeydukes for some bars…"

"'Ruin your chances?'"

I shrugged. "You never know! I mean, what if you had just let me stay there, maybe we would've gone out and then maybe we'd both realize that we were meant for each other?"

…

What?

It is a possibility!

"So in other words, what else do you want?"

'Hey! I never said anything more about wanting—'

"Oh, alright! Maybe we could drop by Weasley's Wizard Wheezes too."