Hello. I like lemonade. I don't own Harry Potter. If I did, I would have lemonade 24/7. With ice cream. Unfortunately I don't. Oh yeah, the link for the dress is actually http/ www.therosedress .com /dresses/rb/1762/f.jpg Sorry for the mistake.

Dear Katie,

Aubrey Wishelfing can go screw a dictionary.

Love love love Tonks who is very fat.

Dear Oliver,

This is Katie. I have something to tell you-

No. That wouldn't work.

Hi, Oliver,

How is Puddlemere? I hope it's good. Something happened to me recently, and you were involved in it-

Not that either.

Dear Oliver,

I don't like you. This is your entire fault, dude-

That comes on a little strong, don't you think? And Tasha's corrupting me with her American slang.

Speaking of Tasha, we had to meet everyone for the World Cup in 15 minutes, since Rachel got the tickets kind of last minute. Very kind of last minute. Still they're really good seats, box seats that were sooooo expensive they couldn't sell unless they drastically lowered the price. Instead they gave them to Rachel. (They is the department of Quidditch and Quodpot, aka Rachel's brother Brian)

Anyway, I'm wearing a cute black maternity shirt that says GO USA- SUPPORT RIGHTS FOR WOMEN! And a pair of really short shorts over fishnet tights that cut off at the knee. And black flip-flops. Reason for all the black: I went shopping with Tasha last week, who also is very active politically. I really love the shirt, though. She forced me to buy it.

So she's standing in my doorway, looking with this funky look on her face that she always wears when she's at my flat.

"This place sucks," she says. "You really should room with me. I own it, so Kitty; you'd only have to buy groceries. Oh, and help me paint and all that. I just bought it last month, and I need a roomie."

"Sure," I said. I saw her place, it's very big. It is much nicer then my flat, which is very clearly a piece of crap, although it is a VERY cheap piece of crap.

All six of us and then some apparated to the site of the World Cup. This stadium was not huge and gold, instead it was green. I supposed it was to blend in with the woods that we were located at.

"Okay, so we're up…. here."

Rachel led us up the silver stairwell to the Top Box. Wow. Very nice tickets she got us. Tasha was on my left, the seat next to me was empty.

"Excuse me,"

I look up at the person who is to sit next to me.

Oh crap.

It's the one person who I really don't want to see right now. (This is apart from Snape, of course. Although if Ange's theory about him and Vector is true… okay, gross. And Angelina needs a therapist. These were once our TEACHERS!)

But this isn't Snape.

It's Oliver.

Why do I always get stuck sitting on the end?

"Hello," he says pleasantly.

Crap. "Hello," I say, also pleasantly.

"You look a little familiar. Ave I met you before? Oh, I'm Oliver Wood," he says.

"I'm Rhiannon Baylar. Call me Kitty. And the only time I've seen you was in Quidditch magazines, if you are who I think you are. "

Rhiannon Baylar is my new name. I obviously changed it. Also, obviously I'm lying. But he doesn't need to know that. And Oliver won't.

"Kitty?" he says questioningly, with one eyebrow raised up to his hairline, practically.

"It's my middle name. I just don't like Rhi or Rhiannon as much as Kitty."

Also, Kitty sounds close to Katie.

But I don't tell him that. I'm not telling Oliver a lot of things. Besides, it's not like I feel the teeniest bit guilty. Really. Truly. Honestly.

Well, maybe I did for a bit, but I've managed to squash that feeling down and stop it creeping up into my stomach. No guilt on the menu for me!

Oliver sits down. Polite conversation is over. The game is starting.

Rachel's brother is the commentator.

"And here they are! One the side of us Yankees, we have Chasers Midnight Syler, Jorge Rodriguez, Julana Ross, Keeper Alex Cooke, Beaters Kat Laresen and Lucas Benesra, and Seeker Paige Dean!"

The American team is kind of dominated by girls. It's usually about half and half with more girls by one, unlike France, which is all male.

"And the French! Chasers Jean François, Pierre Fache, Christian-Jacques Challoner, Keeper Marius Vincent, Beaters Frédéric Cadet and Gildas Briand, and Seeker Matthieu Brun!"

Brian Chou has a very funny accent when he speaks the French names.

Sitting besides him, Rachel is cracking up. Julsie places a sedative spell on her.

"And they're off! Referee John Williams blows the whistle! The US chaser Midnight Syler grabs the ball, dodges a Bludger aimed at her by Gildas Briand- oh, Kat Laresen whacks it back, hitting Pierre Fache in the leg! Anyway, Syler passes to Rodriguez, who throws back to Syler, who chucks it to Ross and she SCORES! 10 zip to France!

45 minutes later, the score is 40-10; with the USA is the lead. Tasha is screaming take that at the French (did she forget that she's 1/16 French? She's also 1/8 Scottish, and I know she prefers that instead. Why? She hates snails.)

Oliver keeps glancing at my stomach.

"Are you pregnant?" he finally asks

"Yes," I say, and turn around to calm down Tasha. I don't need this right now.

The game is over. The US won the Quidditch Cup, 450 to 20. Tasha, Rachel and I, instead of camping out, are going to Tasha's cousin Lora's house which is fairly close by. According to Tasha she's married to someone named Sean and has a one year old daughter named Tali, who is apparently named after Tasha.

I don't get it.

But Lora's house it nice, with skylights and a big bay window. It's amazing how much they look alike- both Tasha and Lora have dark hair and small mouths and brown eyes that have a hint of gold. Both are slim and tall with the same bone structure. Aislinn looks a little like me, you can tell we're sisters, but Lora and Tasha look like twins, although Lora is eight years older. Odd things, genetics.

Tasha rummages around in the refrigerator for guacamole and chips- I'm having more cravings- and Lora looks at me.

"What are you going to name your child?" she asks.

"Keira," I say.

"What if it's a boy?"

"It's going to be a girl. I know it."

"My mom thought I was going to be a boy, named Christopher, and then she thought my brother Xander was going to be a girl, named Simone. Obviously, she was wrong, although she was convinced that she was right until both of us were born." Says Tasha loudly.

"Yeah, well, I'm right." I say, and lean back into the couch.

"I thought Tali was going to be a girl. Obviously, I was right," says Lora, looking at her daughter. "But I think this one's going to be a boy," she says, patting her stomach.

Tasha dumps the guacamole, chips, and salsa unceremoniously on to the counter.

"You're not-?" she squeals loudly and obnoxiously, I might add.

"I am," Lora confirms, with a smile.

Well. I'll leave the cousins to their squeal-fest. I'm tired.

"The guest room you and Tasha can share is over there," says Lora. "Rachel, you can sleep on the couch. It pulls-out into a bed."

"Okay," says the green haired girl. "That's fine."

Tasha turns over and looks at me.

"Katie- no, that's not right, Kitty-," she says. "Why won't you tell whoever the father is about your pregnancy?" she asks, propping her body on her elbow.

"Because," I answer, avoiding her searching gaze.

"Because why?" she says, arching an eyebrow. "Don't try that whole because, because why thing on me. Hello, Kat- Kitty. I have a younger brother. It stopped working a looong time ago. Give a good, legitimate reason, please."

You know, I hate it when I can't fool people. Or confuse them. The latter is so much more fun. They very interesting expressions of their faces.

"Well, everyone would freak. And knowing Oliver, he'd want to get married or something and I guess I'm scared in a way of their reactions. And he's some big Quidditch star, think of what it would do to his career!"

Crap.

"Hmm." Says Tasha. "Oliver." She taps her chin with her free hand. "Oliver Wood, Keeper for Puddlemere United, international Quidditch star. Am I right?"

"You're right," I say, sighing in defeat.

"So." She says. "This complicates things,"

I scrunch up my face at her. My version of a scowl, if you will.

"Well you're the queen of the understatement, aren't you honey?"

Ick. I sounded like some stuffy old great aunt there. No, worse, I sounded like my Great Auntie Tessie Beth. And who names their kid Tessie-Beth? Aiden and I always thought it sounded like a toothpaste brand. Tessie-Beth's Spectacular Toothpaste. My grandmother Meredith is awesome, but even she doesn't like Great Aunt Tessie Beth that much. I asked her why, and apparently it's because Great Aunt Tessie Beth stole her favorite garters, way back in 1910 or whatever.

"Stop it," says Tasha. "And yes, I am queen of the understatement- I won three years in a row from Witch Weekly. The award's hanging on my wall, all framed and embossed and gold."

"Sarcastic wench," I say, sticking my tongue out at her

"Weirdo," she says, sticking her tongue out back at me.

"Goth," I counter

"Oooh, it burns." She says, settling back down. "Or is that bites?"

"You're too tired to figure it out. And remember, we have to leave at like five thirty in the morning tomorrow, if we're going to get back in time for Auror training."

Because we're only about three hours away, we have to drive in cars back to New York. About a hundred people have to drive or take an airplane, because the Department of Magical Transportation, who was handling the Portkeys, is about a hundred under the required amount. I think that this is because they people who made the stadium put in too many seats, therefore too many tickets were sold, but the Department of Magical Transportation was only told that there would be like 100,000, and instead there were 100,500 or something like that. Although I may be exaggerating slightly. Tasha's queen of the understatement, I'm queen of the overstatement. What a lovely pair we make.

The doctor's office was decorated in pink and blue. I had been here twice before, but it never got less bright. I had this theory that it was to brainwash the children into not screaming when they're told they have to get a shot. Though according to the doctor, it had been like this since they moved into this location, three years ago, and Doctor Chou had found no need to paint over it. Not to self: paint baby's room cream and ivy green. Such as nice color combination.

"Baylar, Rhiannon?"

"Yes?" I said, standing up from the bench

"Downstairs, second room on the right. Baihua will be with you in about ten minutes."

"Thank you," I called over my shoulder as I walked slowly down the stairs.

The room downstairs was not, to my relief, pink and blue. Instead it was pale lavender. Um, slight improvement at best.

I sat down onto the table thingy and waited for ten minutes. Finally, Baihua walked in.

"Hello Kitty," she said.

"Hi," I replied.

"Can you lie down please? I need to check on the fetus's condition."

I obliged, tugging up my shirt a little so she could perform the spell.

A streak of gold came out of her wand and raced around my stomach.

"Alright. Your child is perfectly healthy, although I advise you to get folic acid pills. I'll write you out a prescription. Also, do you want to know the gender of the baby?" said Doctor Chou

"You mean that it's not a mutant?" I blurted out, and then blushed as I realized what I had said. Leanne was right.

"Have you been watching the science fiction channel also?" Inquired Doctor Chou

"Um, yeah, I have." I said, turning a nice shade of red, again.

"Well. Anyway, Kitty, don't worry, your child is not a mutant, or in any way deformed as far as we can tell up to this point. And it's perfectly healthy. Don't worry. Would you like to know the gender?"

I shrugged.

"Why not?" I said. Screw the whole thing about being surprised.

"Okay. Lie back down, please."

I complied, and Baihua murmured a spell.

"This may take a few minutes to work." She said to me.

"That's okay," I replied.

After a few minutes a pink light glowed over my baby bump.

"Congratulations," said Baihua. "You have a lovely baby girl."

I grinned. And her name? I thought Keira Alaìnne Baylar. I left the doctor's office feeling very happy. I had a girl! Hopefully she would look like me. If she looked like Oliver, things maybe could get a little odd.

And now I'm done, after agonizing over this for a week. Thanks to the 600 hits. Of course, it would be nicer if those were reviews hint, hint. And thanks to Lia06 for beta-ing this chapter and for her idea of Oliver being suspicious of Katie.