Author Note: I feel like I should warn everyone that this is a twisted rom com, that contains mildly fucked up themes and behavior.


Chapter Two: Never Share Chips with a Slytherin

"Montague was the one who started fist fighting?" Alicia said explosively.

"Alicia," Angelina said, "don't interrupt the best part, remember?" she looked far too smug.

"But-"

"Yes," Katie said wearily, "Montague started it."


As far as she knew Montague hadn't been playing Quidditch for awhile, since his Seventh Year actually, and he'd lost quite a bit of his former Flint-esque bulk. But that only meant his muscles were leaner, more powerful. Davey fell backwards like a stone, his arm still around Katie, who was trying to shove him away even as she started falling too. Even mid fall Katie could see that Montague had then tried to immediately grab Katie and save her form the handsy Davey's clutches, leaving himself entirely vulnerable to Davey's two angry friends. Montague's hands closed on their targets a split second later with his Quidditch reflexes, the right on Davey's arm, trying to pry it off, and the left went to Katie's waist, trying to drag her to him like she was a damsel in distress. Which, to be fair, she currently was.

However, Mitch and Tim had only been stunned long enough for Montague to get his hands on Katie and Davey before they swung on him simultaneously.

"No!" screamed Sandra, and Katie found herself sprawled on the floor on top of Davey, as Montague staggered into another direction from the blows, her skirt riding far too high from the fall, regretting every life choice that had led her to this moment.

"Bloody wanker!" she heard Montague bellow in the direction of Davey as he tried to swing on Mitch before he was tackled by Tim.

"Leave him alone!" Ruby yelled, and Katie could hear the bartender yelling at them, could see out of the corner of her eye that Julia was trying to grab Mitch and Tim and get them off of Montague.

Katie tried to untangle herself from Davey but she was drunk and her reflexes sluggish, and she was also rather distracted by the fact that Montague was physically brawling with two Muggle men in order to...what? Defend her honor? After he'd just implied that she was a slut? But that made no sense. Katie squirmed, trying to fix her skirt.

"Leave it," Davey said in her ear, "looks better that way, luv. You've got great legs." His left hand was suddenly on her thigh, this total skeezeball who'd provoked Montague into violence and left his two friends to handle it while he groped an unwilling girl.

It shouldn't have been possible since he was punching and getting punched and kicked, but somehow Montague saw this. He threw Tim off him, swinging hard at Mitch.

"Get your hands off of her you rat bastard!" he shouted, "get off of her or I'll make you pay!"

Katie slapped the hand on her left thigh, twisting her body violently in a bid to escape. Her friends were trying to break up the three men fighting on the ground, and the bouncers were making their way over. She had to get out of this herself, before Montague lost his head completely at the sight of a Muggle fondling her and drew out his wand to break a dozen wizarding laws.

She wasn't even sure why Davey had made him so angry when Montague himself had said worse things about Katie a hundred times over. Perhaps it was his anti Muggle bias coming through; any Muggle daring to touch a witch instigated this weird white knight in him, regardless of the witch. That was probably it.

As Katie struggled, she saw Montague pin Tim, then receive a hit to the right jaw from Mitch that sent him rocking sideways.

"Let go," Katie said, "let go!"

"Take it easy, luv," Davey said in her ear, still not following simple directions and letting her go, "I'm not a-"

Ruby, Julia, and Sandra had tackled Mitch with their combined efforts, and the now cheering crowd was blocking security from getting to any of the combatants. Montague staggered to his feet as Katie pushed at Davey's arm again, and then raised his foot, stomping Tim on the ground.

"Let go of me!" Katie shouted again when she saw Mitch grab at her friends, swearing at them and calling them ugly, telling them to let him loose so he could tag team Montague again.

Montague stopped kicking and saw her still struggling with Davey, her skirt hiked up so high Katie prayed he couldn't see the tacky thong she'd worn because she was feeling feisty. Not only would he never let her live it down, but she had no intention of Graham Montague ever seeing her private parts, clad in hot pink lace or not. Katie had thought she'd seen Montague angry at least a hundred times at Hogwarts, but it was nothing compared to the murderous rage she saw all over his face now. A chill swept over her. What had caused this fury to possess him?


"Really, Katie?" Alicia said witheringly, "you really don't get why Montague seeing you insulted and pawed at by a handsy Muggle would make him angry?"

"No, I don't see it either," Ange said, "he just said she looked trashy not two minutes before. This is all very confusing. Maybe it's like Katie thought earlier, that he hates Muggles so much he doesn't want to see one touching a witch?"

Alicia sighed. "You two are so dense," she said, "it's like being friends with two men. Two Gryffindor men, even."

"Hey!" Ange said.

"I thought you didn't want any more interruptions?" Katie said. Now that the awful moment was incoming, she wanted to get it over with. Rip it off like a band-aid.

"Katie, darling, girlfriend of my soul," Alicia said, "Montague was obviously jealous."

"Jealous?" Ange and Katie said together.

"Hopeless," Alicia muttered, rubbing her temples with her eyes closed for a second, "yes, jealous. I'll grant you a Gryffindor boy wouldn't act like this. Or a Hufflepuff. Or a Ravenclaw. But when you factor in that the idiot is a Slytherin and that he's been blowing kisses at you and throwing come-ons your way for years, well..."

"He wasn't blowing kisses," Katie retorted.

"You said he was," Angelina contradicted.

"Well he was, but not the way you are insinuating," Katie said, "you're making it sound like he was flirting with me. It was a rude thing he did mid match to get me to drop the Quaffle. I mean he did it once when he was elbowing me in the ribs. How flirtatious was that?"

"Very," Alicia said while Angelina nodded with a grimace.

Katie was bewildered. Yes the night had ended with her knickers in Montague's flat, never to be worn by her again, potentially to be spun in the air like a lasso at a pure-blood ball in front of his mates. But she knew what had happened. She knew Alicia was wrong.

"No," Katie said, "I promise he wasn't jealous, so you'll have to think of a different explanation."

"I disagree,"Ange said, the traitor, "now that I think about it, Alicia's right, he was definitely jeal-"


"Get off of them," Montague hissed, blood pouring from a cut in his temple and his bottom lip, turning to Mitch who was grappling with Julia, Ruby, and Sandra as Tim whimpered on the ground, as Katie kept struggling with Davey. He grabbed the Muggle man from the clutches of the three women to restart their fight.

Katie stopped struggling for a moment in disbelief as her friends pinned Tim so he couldn't get up instead of helping her and Montague left her to the clutches of the arsehole on the floor in order to resume his battle of flying fists with Mitch. There were four of them. Couldn't at least one of them help extract her?


"Oh," Alicia said, "well then."

"Hmmm," Ange said, putting her chin in her hands, brow furrowed. "Well that's...I mean..."

"I told you," Katie said.


Her savior came from an unlikely source. Katie was trying to knee Davey in the balls with limited success as his hand kept grabbing at her leg, praying she wasn't drunk enough to lose her head completely and pull out her wand, getting sent to Azkaban. The sounds of Montague's fists wailing on Mitch and the cheers and whistles from the onlookers were ringing in her ears. Her friends were shouting to let the bouncers through, but Davey just wouldn't quit.

Katie felt a burly arm grab her, as Davey's arm got wrenched an angle it shouldn't go and he yelped, finally freeing her, even as his left hand remained on her thigh.

"Let the lady go," her savior said, his voice ominous. He didn't even wait to see if his command was followed, before he wrenched the hand in the same violent manner until Davey yelped, and her savior, who it turned out was the bartender, helped Katie to her feet like she was a rag doll.

"Thanks," Katie said breathlessly to the bartender. They had gotten accidentally intertwined due to Katie's being drunk and off-balance, and the force with which the bartender had extricated her from Davey. She'd been ordering drinks from him all night, and only now noticed he was young and rather cute, a pretty blonde boy who had tried to rough up his image with tattoos, muscles, and some piercings.

"Oi, that's my bird," Davey said as he got to his feet, swaying a bit. Montague had really rung his bell with the first hit.

"Piss off," the bartender said easily, as Katie stumbled and half fell on his chest in her haste to put more distance between herself and Davey, "get out of here before the coppers arrives."

She thought Davey would argue but it seemed he was a coward as well as a pervert and he pushed through the crowd to get away.

"You alright, luv?" the bartender said, as she was still leaning against his chest.

The very small part of her brain that was functioning at sober level screamed a danger threat code red at her. She was only half a drink away from snogging a cute boy, after all, and the bartender had just saved her. And she'd just noticed he was very cute.

"Bloody hell, Bell!" she heard Montague say from five feet away, "I can't leave you alone for thirty seconds without you-" he was cut off when Mitch hit him in the face again.


"Aha!" Alicia said loudly in triumph, hitting the table. "I told you!"

Angelina nodded.

"He wasn't jealous," Katie said.

Why did they keep making her say it? Why couldn't she seem to lie? It would be a decent story if she could end it with Montague being jealous of her getting with Muggles and they fell in each other's arms as he admitted...what? What could he have admitted to make last night better? That he had feelings for her? That he wanted her to be his girlfriend? Katie pushed aside all of these pathetic thoughts.

"Tell me you snogged the hot bartender," Alicia said with glee.

"Of course she didn't," Ange scoffed.

Katie was silent.

"...right?" Ange said, her eyes widening. "I mean, you didn't, right Katie?"

"Well..." Katie squirmed.

"Oh my god!" Alicia yelped.

Edith looked their way with the deepest longing while her table yammered at her about coffee.


It was only half a drink, Katie thought in the drunken lizard brain, half a drink before she'd be allowed to snog a cute boy without judging herself. And it had been ages since Mark Collins. The bartender was still holding her. He wanted it, right?

"I think your fella's jealous," the bartender said, nodding in Montague's direction, but Katie was mesmerized by his lip ring.

"He's not my fella," Katie said for what felt like the millionth time tonight.

"Yeah?" the bartender said. In the background, they could hear the bouncers finally making their way through, breaking up the fight as the crowd groaned in disappointment. "Sure seems like it."

"He wishes," Katie mumbled, although she didn't believe what she was saying in the slightest. Montague would rather eat hippogriff droppings then date her, a Gryffindor Mudblood, friend of Harry Potter, girl who'd beaten him at Quidditch repeatedly.

"Lucky me," the bartender said, although he released her as he said it, perhaps realizing continuing to hold her when she'd gained her balance after she'd just been accosted by another jerk was a bad idea.

"Want my number?" Katie heard herself saying recklessly. She had no idea what had come over her. She didn't even like guys with tattoos.

"Bell," Montague snarled over her shoulder, "time to go. They're kicking us out."

Katie turned, annoyed, still vaguely horny. Her friends looked the worse for wear, hair tangled, makeup mussed, outfits askew and ripped. The enormous bouncers loomed right behind them. Montague had blood streaming down parts of his face, his shirt was partially torn, and his jeans had holes where before they'd been pristine. He was clutching his ribs with his left hand.

"Not you, luv," the bartender said to Katie, "I'm sure they aren't kicking you out. You didn't do anything."

Montague looked, it had to be said, homicidal.

"Katie let's go," Ruby said, and she seemed mad, but really, they'd left Katie to a groper while they'd gone to save Montague, so who should be mad here?

"Do you have a pen?" Katie said, and the bartender grinned, pulling out a pad and pen from his back pocket.

"Bell, I said it's time to leave," Montague said, louder, "I pulverized those Mug—jerks for you. Come on."

Katie jotted down her number, feeling a sense of giddy impulse in her actions. Why not try a Muggle covered in tattoos and piercings? Had her usual taste, wizards who played Quidditch but weren't in Slytherin, ever worked out for her in the past?

"Just a minute, Montague," Katie said dismissively, and then she handed back the paper to the bartender. "Thanks for your help," she said, and maybe she should be embarrassed at how breathless her voice sounded, but she was too drunk to care.

"Bell," Montague growled, "stop flirting like a trollop with that-"

It was enough to tip her over the edge, and Katie moved forward, went to her tiptoes, and briefly kissed the cute Muggle bartender whose name she didn't even know. At least, she had intended it to be brief, but the bartender wrapped his arms around her waist and pushed his tongue into her mouth, and they started full on snogging.


"Yes!" Alicia said, triumphantly raising her arms.

Ange was rubbing her temples, her eyebrows drawn together, but her mouth twitching like she was trying very hard not to smile.

Katie giggled self-consciously. She was not particularly proud of anything she'd done the night before…but this part had at least been fun.

"But wait," Alicia said, after she danced in her chair for a while in victory, "how on Earth did you go from snogging a cute bartender six inches away from Montague's face to shagging Montague instead?"

The bartender was a surprisingly good kisser, and his tongue ring Katie was unaware about until it was in her mouth was a nice touch. Katie had no idea how far their snogging might have gone, or for how long, if they hadn't been interrupted.

"Oi, Nate, stop snogging pretty girls and get back to work," a man said from behind them.

The bartender (Nate, apparently) continued to kiss Katie with enthusiasm.

"Katie, we'll just leave you here," Ruby said sharply.

Perhaps it was delusional of her but Katie thought this was rather unfair. She'd made it clear to her friends that she hated Montague and they'd still forced his company upon her all night. And now that she'd finally let loose for once like they were constantly nagging at her to do and they were acting like Katie was being a bad friend.

"Nate, brother, I appreciate that she's hot, but Brenda is coming over now and-"

The bartender sprang apart from Katie before smiling regretfully at her.

"My manager," he said apologetically.

"Great," Montague said loudly.

Katie's drunk brain had almost forgotten he was there but took it as a forbidding sign that he'd been quiet so long while she snogged the cute Muggle.

"Now that you're reclaimed your tongue from a complete stranger, Bell, we can-"

"Thanks for all the drinks," Nate said cheerfully to Montague as Julia and Sandra each grabbed one of Katie's arms, steering her to the exit. Montague stood up straight, squaring up to the bartender, looking almost as angry as he had before punching Davey.

"Maybe you can afford treatment for your disease now," Montague sneered, waving a hand imperiously at Nate. For the first time, Katie noticed the giant, expensive looking ring on his finger which was most likely the ancestral Montague crest in gold. Git.

"Disease?" Nate said, confused, as the bouncers followed behind, forcing their group to leave.

"Your skin appears to be rotting!" Montague yelled triumphantly over the heads of the bouncers.

Everyone who overheard this was deeply confused except for Katie, who sighed.

"They're tattoos, you fool."

They had almost been shoved entirely out of the exit as the rest of the occupants of the club cheered and raised their glasses at them, thanking them for the entertainment while Mitch and Tim got to their feet, shouting threats after them.

"Call me!" Katie said loudly to Nate who grinned at her, pulling out of his back pocket the pad with her number on it, waving at her with a wink, and then they were outside in the alley with the bins.

"Call you what?" Montague said to Katie blankly, as useless as all pure-bloods when encountering Muggles.

"On the phone," Katie said, not able to resist maliciously teasing him.

"The...what?" Montague said with a frown. "Is that an insulting term I've never heard of? Call you onthephone? And what was wrong with his skin? Did you catch a disease tonguing him, Bell?"

The five of them were making their way out of the alley to the bustling streets beyond.

"Yep," Katie said dead pan, "I caught a skin disease and told him to insult me. Onthephone. A vile slur."

Montague squinted at her, clutching his ribs again, clearly trying to determine if she was employing that dastardly Slytherin weapon, sarcasm, or not.

"Graham, are you all right?" Sandra said with some alarm.

All three of her friends look worried.

"How hard did they hit you in the head?" Ruby added. "Do you have a concussion? Do we need to get you a CAT-scan?"

"A what?" Montague said, the baffled expression probably further convincing her friends his skull had been damaged.

He looked to Katie for help.

"Why do we need to...scan," he said scan in the same tones Hermione Granger would pronounced Crumple Horned Snorkack, "...a cat?"

"Oh dear," Julia said, and all of her friends were fluttering around Montague like concerned mother hens now, "I think we need to get him to a hospital."

"How are your ribs?" Sandra said trailing her fingers over Montague's side he was holding. He winced. There was still a faint trickle of blood coming from his left temple.

"I don't need to go to a hospital," Montague snapped, swatting at her friend's hands. "I'm not letting some Mug-er," he looked again at Katie in furious desperation, clearly hating to be relying on her for translation, where she was getting so much smug joy from it.

"Doctor," Katie said helpfully

"Right," Montague said, "I'm not letting some doctor," he said it like Draco Malfoy saying "Potter" mid match, "touch me."

Even though the brawl had beaten Montague's fake friendly act away her friends were generously attributing it to a head wound and didn't seem deterred.

"Graham," Ruby said, "you're not remembering basic things. I'm very worried about your health."

"He's fine," Katie said, rolling his eyes, "he's joking. He knows tattoos are ink pictures people put on their skin, that a phone is how we talk to other people in other homes, and that a CAT scan is a machine that checks your brain for injury, right, Montague?"

"Of course," Montague said stiffly, "just a joke."

"Stupid joke," Sandra said, and Katie wondered if this was the moment her friends came to their senses and saw through Montague, "we were worried for you."

There was a pause. Katie knew Montague's facial expressions well enough to know that he was seconds away from insulting Sandra in the cruelest of terms. They accidentally made eye contact. Katie's eyebrows raised in a challenge.

Montague scowled at her. Then took a deep breath, turning to Sandra with a smile.

"My apologies," he said finally, "I've been told I have an odd sense of humor."

"Or no sense of humor," Katie said.

Montague turned to her with a glare, and opened his mouth.

"Whatever," Julia cut him off, "I'm starving. Let's get some food."

"It's near two in the morning," Ruby pointed out, "what's going to be open?"

The three girls started discussing options walking away briskly, leaving Katie alone with Montague for a moment. They glowered at each other.

"You can go home now," Katie said shortly.

"And miss the next six Muggles you throw yourself at like a slut?" Montague sneered. "Hardly."


Alicia gasped, her hand going to her mouth which Katie thought was a bit rich, since the Slytherin boys had been insulting them in similar ways for years.

"Katie," Angelina groaned, now taking her turn at yanking at her own hair, "how, how how did you end up sleeping with him after that?"

"I don't know, OK?," Katie said despairingly. "That's why I'm telling you the whole story in detail, so you can figure out what's wrong with me and get me fixed at St Mungo's so it doesn't ever happen again!"

"Oh, Katie," Alicia said sadly.

Somehow the pity was worse.


Katie dearly wanted to hex Montague into the pile of putrid ooze he was, but as there were Muggles everywhere around them, she had to settle for doing things the Muggle way. Montague's head rocked back from her slap, opening up the cut already on his lip. Her friends continued on looking for a dive to eat in obliviously.

Montague spat out a wad of his precious pure-blood on the ground.

"Oh yeah, sure Bell, slap the guy who bought you and your friends drinks all night, the guy who gave one of your friends his six hundred pound jumper, the guy who danced and entertained your friends for hours, the guy who got into a fight because some Muggles called your mates ugly and said they would take turns fucking you. Slap me, and not the Muggle groping you. Snog some bloke just for helping you stand up. Perfect Gryffindor logic."

"Why do you even have a Muggle jumper?" Katie said, ignoring the rest. "How do you even possess Muggle money?"

"Never mind how," Montague said roughly. He wiped at his bloody lip, and Katie watched and felt a weird twinge low in her body again. She knew she should've just stayed and snogged the bartender. Get this out of her system instead of letting herself find Montague attractive in the slightest.

"Katie! Graham!" Julia bellowed, gesturing at them from far ahead, "we found a burger place!"

"Just go home, Montague," Katie said, "I don't know what game you're playing and I'm tired of it."

"I'm hungry," Montague said obstinately, "beating off your many Muggle suitors is tiring work," he pushed past Katie to join her friends walking to the dive.


Alicia and Ange exchanged another look.

"What?" Katie asked, "what?"

"Nothing," Alicia said in a too innocent voice, "keep going, Katie."

They were all half-way through their burgers when it became crystal clear that food wasn't enough to stop Montague reverting to his real asshole of a personality in front of her friends. It was a relief for her friends to know the truth; that Katie hadn't been lying about what an arrogant condescending prick Montague was. It was certainly, under no circumstances, a disappointment.

"Hmmm," Ange said maddeningly.

She and Alicia exchanged yet another look, "stop that," Katie snapped, "I know what you're thinking."

"Do you?" Ange asked neutrally.

"I wasn't disappointed," Katie said hotly, "I wasn't!"

"Hmmm," Alicia said, "No comment."

"I wasn't!"


It had started when the Muggle behind the counter questioned Montague's state of disarray and blood, and Montague had told him he was lucky to even receive his business. Ruby's eyebrows had flown up. It had gotten worse when after they all ordered and Montague pulled out an enormous wad of Muggle money, peeled off a fifty pound note, and told the cashier it was for his order only.

"I've spent enough on you all already," he sniffed.

Sandra's face had darkened at the disdain in his voice.

While they waited for their food, Montague looked around the diner and started insulting the décor. Julia, ever the sweetheart, had started questioning Montague on whether he was sure he hadn't received a head injury or not.

"No," Katie said, "I told you. This is just how he is. He's a dick."

Montague smirked at her, although Katie didn't know if it was because he was enjoying dropping his act and letting down her friends, or because she'd just used "dick" in a sentence that had him in it. Either explanation was likely.

Montague had further soured Julia against him by asking for his jumper back when their food arrived so she wouldn't spill food on it. Julia flung it as his head a little harder than necessary, adjusting her broken dress so her cleavage wouldn't spill out.

Montague looked at Julia's tits for more than a glance.

"Looks better," Montague shrugged, taking a bite of his burger and Katie saw Ruby's hand twitch like she wanted to slap him.

"I told you," Katie said, before taking a bite of her own burger.

The last straw, however, had come when the burgers were almost eaten, and Montague had asked what they were going to do to repay him for the fun night.

"Repay you?" Sandra asked blankly, "for what?"

"I'm a highly eligible bachelor," Montague informed her, eating a chip, "Bell can tell you. I've got a line of witch – women waiting for the chance for me to escort them somewhere. And you three got me for hours. So how are you going to repay me for the honor?"

"The honor?" Ruby said, her voice rising.

Julia was stuck on another point. "What exactly do you mean, how will we repay you?"

"I'm not picky," Montague said, shrugging, "I don't care which one of your flats we go back to."

"What?" Sandra cried, clearly trying not to believe what she was hearing.

"I can handle all three of you," Montague said, as if that was what was bothering Katie's friends. "Not to worry. My stamina is excell-"

But the fourth person of the night had hit Montague in the face, and he fell a little sideways from the force of Ruby's blow. Katie heard a cracking sound come from the direction of his ribs.

"You bloody pig," Ruby hissed, and Katie's friends were standing.

"Katie, we're sorry we didn't believe you," Julia said. "Let's leave this insufferable monster before he starts fellating himself."

"You wound me," Montague drawled, eating a chip.

Katie remained sitting.

"Katie," Sandra said, her eyes big, "come on. Why are you still sitting there?"

Montague grinned at her, more than a little slyly. "Run along," he said highhandedly to her friends. "Bell's still eating."

It was true that she was, but her three friends had still been eating too and were willing to leave the rest of their food to escape Montague's tainted airspace.

"I can't leave him here alone," Katie said calmly as her friends stared at her in disbelief, "I think Ruby just cracked his ribs. I've got to get him to a hospital."

"Fine," Sandra snapped, making to sit back down, "Ruby, Julia, you leave. Katie, I'll keep you company with this arsehole."

"Don't bother," Katie said. Her voice was calm, but her heart was beating wildly for some reason. "No need for you to suffer his presence anymore. I'm used to him."

It was a testament to how obnoxious Montague was acting that it didn't take Katie long to convince her friends to leave, then suddenly she was alone. With Montague in a Muggle burger dive at two in the morning. While he was wounded and covered in blood.

"Well, well, well," Montague grinned.

"Well what?" Katie snapped.

"I knew you were just counting the seconds till you got me alone, Bell," Montague said, taking a sip of his soda.

She didn't know how it was possible for one man to be so self-assured. His hair was messy from the fight (although oddly, it looked better this way) his face had blood all over it, his shirt was torn and dirty and so were his jeans, yet Montague was acting like he was a Greek god sent to Earth.

"Your mother didn't spank you as a child, did she?" Katie asked wearily, eating some chips.

Montague's smile dropped.

"Don't talk about my mother," he said coldly.

"I'll talk about who I like," Katie said, "especially after you just propositioned my friends like a Neanderthal."

"A what?" Montague scowled, "Is that another Muggle thing?"

"No," Katie said, "crack a book sometime."

"So how long have you been planning to get rid of your friends to get me all to yourself?" Montague said, ignoring her last comment.

"How long have you been plotting to get rid of my friends?" Katie retorted.

"I don't know what you mean," Montague drawled, "I was looking forward to the prospect of trying out some Muggle women in bed."

"You mean you were looking forward to losing your virginity?" Katie asked with poisonous sweetness.

"Well we know you aren't looking forward to the day you lose yours, Bell," Montague said, "since it happened so long ago you can't remember to whom. And how many guys have followed."

Katie sighed. "It's true," she said, "I've lost count about a hundred men ago."

A muscle jumped in Montague's jaw. He paused, chip suspended in mid-air on the way to his mouth.

"All those times with the rest of the Slytherin Quidditch team," Katie said regretfully, "after we all waited for you to disappear to wank in your dorms to pictures of particularly feminine centaurs. I mean they lasted about four seconds each, but still, that counts, right?"

"Funny," Montague said, "hilarious, Bell."

"I'm very amusing," Katie said, eating some more of her burger. This place might be greasy and fluorescent, the pictures of food on the walls faded, but the food was quite good.

"I was referring more to the fact that you're flinging yourself in desperation at Muggles with skin diseases and metal pieces holding their skin together."

Katie rolled her eyes upward to the ceiling.

"It's called piercings and tattoos, Montague. It's a style."

"And you find that attractive?" Montague said acidly.

"Not as attractive as pure-blood witches dressed in white at debutante balls like calves on display for ritual sacrifice I'll grant you," Katie said, "or the way the black robes on the men really sets off their Dark Marks. Which, by the way, are a kind of tattoo," she said the last word with exaggerated sarcasm.

"You're so entertaining Bell," Montague drawled, but the muscle was jumping more in his jaw, "accusing me of being a Death Eater."

Katie opened her mouth to offer another pithy retort before she realized Montague was turning over his left forearm to show her the unmarked skin.

"They've faded," Katie said shortly, "since he's been dead. So that doesn't exactly prove anything, does it?"

"I'm not a Death Eater," Montague said through clenched teeth.

"I wasn't saying you were," Katie said. She hadn't been. Not really. If she truly thought Montague had ever been a Death Eater she never would've spent the night in his presence, no matter what her friends did or said.

"Good," Montague snapped. "Because I'm not. I never was."

"Anyway," Katie said, feeling a twinge of guilt she desperately wanted to run away from, "you should've just let me snog Nate. If you wanted me out of the way to get some bizarre foursome with my Muggle friends."

"I suppose I should've," Montague said, his expression clearing to something unreadable again, "my mistake. Run back and beg him to shag you, Bell. I'm sure that's worked for you before."

"Every Saturday night," Katie quipped.


"Would you stop that?" Katie exploded.

Ange and Alicia turned from where they'd been giving each other a look for the millionth time.

"Sure," Alicia said, "when you admit to the fact that Montague is jealous and has been flirting with you for years."

"Merlin's pants, are you two blind?" Katie said. She took another drink for strength. "He enjoys tormenting me. It's a game. That's all it is. Why else is he sending me these ridiculous flowers with crude notes?"

"Yeah," Ange said, "absolutely no other explanation then him playing a game to torture you. Ten points to Gryffindor."

"Oh, piss off," Katie said. She was drunk again. How had that happened? Had she ever stopped being drunk?

"So you two are exchanging banter," Alicia said, clearly fighting a smile, "and then you-"

"We're not exchanging banter," Katie snarled. Her friends didn't get it. They weren't there. This wasn't flirting. It had been rude, and ugly, and full of low blows. Typical interaction with a Slytherin. "Would you say we exchanged banter with Flint in school?"

"Oliver did," Alicia mumbled.

"It wasn't banter," Katie repeated, "it was attempted annihilation on both of our parts!"


"Should've known," Montague sneered, "you've got that frequently ridden look to you."

"I'll have you know I do the riding," Katie said blithely, "after watching you Slytherins on brooms like I'd trust you to do anything correctly. Also, y'know. The four second thing."

Montague had a flush to his cheeks that was probably alcohol related. Or rage. Katie would buy rage.

"Well put up a sign," Montague said, "offer your services to Muggles in need. Get your fix that way."

"You seem in need," Katie said, "look at you. Hanging out with your Mudblood enemy and some Muggles all for a chance to lose that pesky virginity!"

"That's been taken care of quite a while ago, Bell," Montague said, eating another chip after glancing at the newspaper it had come on with scorn.

"What, two months ago in Madam LeRoux's?" Katie said, widening her eyes in faux innocence, "I've heard the prices are steep, but if you're as desperate as I'm sure you were..."

"You think I have to pay to get in bed with a woman?" Montague snapped.

"I mean, isn't that what you admitted to trying to do with my friends?" Katie pounced. He'd walked right into that one.

"I assure you Bell," Montague said, "that I've got a waiting list."

"Of what, witches you're willing to use a love potion on?" Katie said, "I don't doubt that. Am I at the top?"

Montague's cheeks were even redder.

"Of most annoying witches I know? Definitely," he said. "Of witches I want to shag? You don't even make the first cut."

"Then go fuck off," Katie said, wagging her hand in a circle at him, "go find the desperate Slytherin half-blood you're willing to pay and leave me alone in peace."
"I'm still eating," Montague said, taking a huge bite of burger to demonstrate.

"Well, so am I," Katie said, tearing off an even bigger bite.

They glared at each other while chewing. It took some time.

"What are you still doing here?" Montague asked.

"I told you, I'm eating," Katie said indignantly, "I need to soak up this alcohol or I'm going to wake up hungover."

Montague looked at her in disbelief.

"What?" Katie snarled.

"You're a witch," he said, enunciating his words like Katie was especially slow, "I know you're barely one, but still. Just take a sober-up potion before bed."

"I don't have one," Katie admitted. She wasn't a big drinker in general and she'd had no intention of getting drunk tonight so hadn't thought to buy one. "And all the stores in Diagon Alley are closed by now I'm sure."

"I've got an extra one in my flat," Montague said with a shrug.


Alicia shrieked, actually shrieked, and a nearby table of middle aged women glared at them.

"Sorry," Alicia said, waving her fingers at them, "girl talk, y'know."

Two of the women nodded in understanding.

"Katie," Ange hissed, "how drunk were you? You actually fell for the 'come back to my flat for something' con?"

"No one said I fell for that," Katie said, "give me a little credit, would you?"

"I don't need it," Katie said, she ate another chip, swallowed, and drank some water. "See? Perfectly fine."

It didn't occur to her until later what Montague had just attempted to do. If it had, perhaps she could've avoided her second biggest mistake. The first, of course, was not just storming out of the club when she'd seen his smug chiseled face to begin with.

"So what are you still doing here, Bell?" Montague repeated.

"Maybe you do need a CAT scan," Katie said, "I just told you a minute ago."

"I don't believe you," Montague said bluntly, "as for the food, you could've left with your mates and stopped somewhere else. And don't tell me Spinnet or Johnson don't have a hangover potion leftover. Especially Spinnet. She probably has a hundred of them. Come on."


"Hey!" Alicia said indignantly, "he was insulting me and I wasn't even there, are you kidding me?"

"Do you have a hundred sober-up potions?" Ange asked.

"Not a hundred!" Alicia said. "I mean, twenty at most! Which I would've given you, he's right about that at least. You better have defended me to him, Katie Bell!"


"How do you even know I live with them, Montague?" Katie asked. Skipping past the insult to Alicia, "Stalker much?"

"Like anyone can avoid the sickening golden Gryffindor hero coverage in the press," Montague said, but he had shifted a little before he said it, like he was hiding something.

"Well it helps if you don't read every article, tear them out, mount them on your wall, and snog the pictures," Katie said.

"Thanks, I'll let Wood know," Montague retorted.

Katie grinned. "Oliver wouldn't notice a picture of any of us unless we'd charmed ourselves gold and painted "Quidditch World Cup on our stomachs."

Montague grinned, a genuine grin that seemed to burst forth against his will.

"Same with Flint," he said, "unless it was Potter of course. Potter and Wood, his mortal enemies."

"Harry was convinced Flint was part troll," Katie said, "he had a whole theory and everything how it had happened. We tried telling him human/troll hybrids were impossible but..."

"It's possible Flint was the first," Montague said, still grinning, "he never did push-ups or anything and his arms were the size of my head. His brain on the other hand, was the size of a snitch."

Katie would blame it on her being half drunk still, but she started laughing. She couldn't help it. There was something so hilarious to her about eating in a Muggle dive at 2 AM with a bloody and disheveled prince of Slytherin, making fun of their old captains together.

Even weirder, Montague started to join in her laughter, before he clutched his ribs again with a wince. Katie took pity on him for once.

"That's why I stayed," she said, waving a chip at Montague's left side that he was clutching, "I was telling the truth. I mean, sort of. You need to get those ribs fixed."

"I'm fine," Montague said after a pause where he'd looked at her with a strange expression. "If it keeps up I'll go to St Mungo's."

"Or you could get it healed by someone who got an 'O' in their NEWT level Charms," Katie said.

"Yeah?" Montague said, "is this some weird Gryffindor charity?"

"Well," Katie said, "you did punch some gross guys for me. I suppose I want us to be even."

"OK," Montague said. It had taken him awhile to say it. He'd paused to drink his soda for a minute or two, "so come back with me to my flat and I'll trade you some healing charms for that sober-up potion."

"Why?" Katie said blankly, "I can fix it now."

"In front of Muggles?" Montague said in disbelief, "Are you daft, Bell?"

"I'm not coming back to your flat," Katie said, "god knows what kind of dark magic traps you have for unsuspecting innocents like me."

"Ha aha. Ha. Ha. Ha," Montague said sarcastically, "it's a normal flat, Bell. I didn't invite you to my family mansions."

"No, of course not," Katie said, "god forbid the Muggleborn sets foot in the dens of snobs and evil." She had noted that Montague had stressed the plural of mansion and felt queasy. God he was gross.

"I live alone, unlike you," Montague said, and Katie didn't even flinch at this dig at her financial state that had made her live with two of her mates. What did he know, anyway? She'd just worked up to first string and for now, the three of them were having fun living together.


"That's true," Alicia said, "we are having fun. Although thanks for nothing for not shutting down Montague's insult of me."

"Katie," Ange said, and she was rubbing her temples again, "you know that wasn't a dig at your poverty, right?"

"Of course it was," Katie said.

"He was telling you to come over and fuck him," Alicia said bluntly, "duh."

"He was sneering at my poverty, I'm telling you," Katie insisted. "You weren't there."

"Oh Katie," Alicia said, putting on a ludicrous posh accent in the vague sound of a man's voice, "I've been beating up men all night and buying you drinks to get you drunk. Then I peeled you off a cute boy you snogged-"

"No he didn't!" Katie said indignantly. "Nate's manager was coming over and-"

"Then," Alicia continued, still aping Montague's sneering tones, "I was a total cock to your friends until they left us alone and now I'm telling you to come over my flat, since no one else lives there, so I can shag your brains out."

Alicia and Angelina looked smugly at Katie. She deflated.

"So I did fall for the 'come to my flat' trick," she whimpered.

"Yup," her traitorous friends chorused.


"Well bully for you," Katie said, "do you want a gold star? A cookie?"

"Just come on," Montague said, "I'll amaze you with my splendor and wealth and you can fix my ribs. Your friend Ruby really frosted my cake with that last slap."

"Dammit," Katie said , "now I want a cake," she looked wistfully (and a bit drunkenly) out of the window.

"I'll get you a cake," Montague said casually, and his patrician fingers were playing with his straw, his stupid giant family ring glinting in the fluorescence.

"Let me see that," Katie demanded, and suddenly she was half holding Montague's hand as she inspected the ludicrous ring that was probably worth more than her parent's home.

Montague withdrew his hand, which had dried blood at the knuckles.

Katie felt weirdly insulted, assuming he didn't want her Mudblood touch, until he took off the Montague crest and handed it to her.

"Like it?" he asked.

"No," Katie said brutally, turning it in the light this way and that, "it's huge and tacky." She flipped it over to see if there was an inscription.

"Well women don't wear them," Montague said nonsensically. "My mother, she wears-"

"Oh, now we're talking about your mother?" Katie said.

"No," Montague said, his eyebrows drawn together again in irritation. He leaned forward and snatched the ring from Katie's hand, brushing his fingers across her palm as he took the ring. "Merlin, Bell, can't you ever not snipe at me for even one second?"

"Nope," Katie said. She was surprised Montague was admitting defeat like this, but she supposed the power of her snark was overwhelming to most. She chewed the last bite of her burger with satisfaction.

"Finally," Montague groused, "I thought you would eat that for the next two hours. Let's get out of here."

"I want a milkshake," Katie said, "a chocolate one."

Montague groaned, putting his head in his hands for a second, then standing up with vigor. "Fine," he said, and then made his way to the counter to get her a milkshake.

Katie ate her chips with diligence while she waited, and when Montague returned, she accepted the milkshake.

"You could've bought us all dinner," Katie said ungratefully, "after you got to dance with my friends all night. The pleasure of our company and all that."

"I didn't get a lot of pleasure from it," Montague said, gesturing at his ribs.

"Well who's fault is that?' Katie shrugged. "Maybe if you had kept lying to the rest of them about what you're really like one of them would've snogged you. You have no one to blame but yourself."

"True," Montague said, "they did seem to enjoy touching me. Tell me Bell, are all Muggle woman so forward?"

Katie sighed.

"Please grow up and get over your Madonna/Whore complex, Montague."

"My what?"

"Your belief that all women are either pure little virgins then motherly figures or whores, with nothing in between. God, it must be dull to be a pure-blood."
"It is," Montague said shortly, and Katie paused in drinking her milkshake, sure she'd misheard.

"It is?" she repeated.

"Of course it is," Montague said, "what do you think I was doing at that Muggle hell-hole tonight?"

"I dunno," Katie said, "I did think it was weird to see you there."

"Well I couldn't take another Saturday night of 'take the debutantes to a ball' or 'drinking two-hundred year-old fire-scotch with the menfolk' in the most uncomfortable robes known to man."

"Is that all you do?" Katie asked with some interest. She knew pure-bloods of course, but not the ancient wealthy ones that populated mostly Slytherin.

"I left out charity balls that cost more to host then the money that gets raised to make yourself look philanthropic," Montague said "and dinner parties where everyone reminisces about the good old days and curses the dying culture of pure-bloods."

Katie felt intrigued against her will.

"So how'd you go from that to obtaining Muggle money and clothes in order to go clubbing with random Muggles?" she asked, dipping her second to last chip into her milkshake.

"Ew, what are you doing?" Montague said, staring in revulsion at her.

Katie dipped her last chip as well, and held it out to him in offering.

Montague took it from her, and brought it to his mouth skeptically. It had barely made it past his lips when his facial expression changed completely.

"Good, right?" Katie said, and then Montague stood up. "Where are you going?" she asked.

"We need more chips," he said after ascertaining she still had half a shake left.


"You know, your faces are going to get stuck that way," Katie said waspishly as Alicia and Angelina made more meaningful faces at each other.

"Sorry," Alicia said with unconvincing innocence, "go back to the part where Montague is confiding in you his disgust with pure-blood culture while you two feed each other chips you've dipped in your milkshake."

"We weren't feeding each other," Katie said, "I didn't put it in his mouth-"

Angelina cackled around her Bloody Mary.


They had made it through half of the fresh chips, their hands occasionally brushing, before Katie pressed the issue.

"You haven't explained how you managed to end up in the club tonight."
"Probably the same reason you were," Montague shrugged, "this is spectacular, Bell. I'm sad I've gone this long without trying this."

"Wait till you try pizza," Katie said, "it will blow your mind."

Montague paused, and looked up from his milkshake covered chip at her. "You'll have to take me to the best place," he said casually, "to get this...peet-zah."

"Yeah sure," Katie said, agreeably, her head still spinning the tiniest bit from the rum and cokes, "I know a place in Clapham."

"Sounds great," Montague said, "maybe next weekend?"

"I don't think I'm busy," Katie said, trying to remember if she had a practice match, or plans with friends.

"Well, whenever you're free," Montague shrugged.


This time it was Angelina who shrieked.

"What now?" Katie said wearily.

"Oh nothing," Alicia said, "only, I imagine she's reacting to the fact that you've got a date with Graham Montague planned for next weekend."

Katie opened her mouth to object, then ran back what she'd just told her friends what had happened the night before.

The second it dawned on her Angelina and Alicia smirked in tandem.

"I realize it looks like I have a date with Montague next weekend," she attempted gamely.

"It doesn't look like, you do," Ange snorted. "You're taking him out in Muggle London for pizza."

"OK," Katie said, putting down her fork. Her eye caught for a second on the red flower explosion and the crude note Montague had attached to it, and she gained confidence. "I get it. It looks like Montague has been flirting with me for years and I obliviously encouraged him and now he's got a thing for me. That's what you're thinking, right?"

"I mean, that's reality," Alicia said, putting her head in her hands with a weird sigh, "It's kind of disgusting, kind of romantic."

"If you knew the rest," Katie said, "you'd know you were wrong, and I was right."

"No chance," Alicia snorted, "Montague's been playing the long con, and now-

"So what do you say happened then, Katie?" Ange cut in.

"I got tricked," Katie said grimly, "tricked, and now he's going to tell everyone. He's got my knickers. He'll show people. He might even have won a bet by sleeping with me. I wouldn't put it past him."

Ange and Alicia gaped at her, appalled.

"Now, hang on," Ange said, "I think you're overreacting."

"I'm not," Katie said.


"I know you weren't there for the same reason I was," Katie said, changing subject, "so no pizza till you tell me the truth."

"You weren't there to get away from our fellow wizards and witches?" Montague asked.

"No," Katie said, "I was there to see my Muggle mates and catch up. That's all."

"Really?" Montague pressed, "you didn't want a nice anonymous night of not being Katie Bell, beloved war heroine?"

"Well," Katie said, "I mean..." she shifted.

Montague smiled, and Katie squirmed more. It had been his nice smile.

"I wasn't," she insisted, "I catch up with my friends every few months. They don't know about our world so of course I can't be...y'know."

"The golden girl of Gryffindor?" Montague supplied.

"That's Hermione," Katie corrected, and Montague half-shrugged.

"You're the one with the golden hair," he said, reaching forward and tugging gently on one of her locks and for a second of madness, Katie thought he was flirting. She shook it off.

"Whatever," Katie said, "my point is, I'm certainly not a huge celebrity or hero or anything. But sometimes I do miss doing Muggle things. That's how I was raised. That's who I was, who my friends were, who my family are. Sometimes I want to go to the movie theater and eat popcorn, and sometimes I want to go roller skating in black lights to disco music and sometimes I want to wear tight dresses and go drink martinis and not worry about who is watching."

Immediately, she wanted to shove the words back in her mouth. They felt like a confession. To Montague, of all people.

"I envy you," he said finally, and when Katie scoffed, he continued, "I do! The magical community is small. The pure-blood community smaller. It gets dull. Claustrophobic. But you've got all of these people in your life, all of these experiences."

Katie almost believed him. Almost. But then she'd remembered the way he sneered at Nate and his tattoos and piercings, the way he'd said "doctors."

"So you're never going to tell me how you ended up there, huh?" she said.

"No," Montague said, standing up, "are you going to fix my ribs or not?"

He'd side along Apparated them to the door outside his flat, as Katie was not only unaware of the location, but still too tipsy to handle solo apparition. That had been her third mistake of the night. Not only could Montague have splinched her unintentionally or on purpose, but now she had no idea where she was. But that didn't occur to Katie until later. Right now, she was a bit distracted by the hallway with its marble floors, gilded walls, china vases, crystal chandeliers. She closed her mouth with difficulty. Montague's expression was smug, but there was an underlying slyness to it that would bother her later.

"So you live in Buckingham Palace?" Katie tried to joke.

"I knew you'd be impressed," Montague told her, reaching for the door, his wand out tapping a pattern, "After all, you probably live in a hovel with Spinnet and Johnson."


"Hey!" Ange and Alicia said.


"Hey!" Katie said, "Our place is lovely, I'll have you know. Sorry I don't sleep on a pile of galleons."

Montague let her in, and the place was significantly less austere inside. Rich looking still, yes. But not an art museum like the hallway had indicated.

"Why do you live here?" Katie asked. She shouldn't be making small talk. She'd been promised a sober-up potion and she'd offered some healing charms in return. That's it.

"As opposed to what?" Montague asked, throwing the jumper on a nearby chair.

"Your family mansions," Katie said, stressing the s with some small contempt.

"Oh, so I'm so pathetic I live with my parents at the age of twenty-three?" Montague snorted.

"You're living off your parents' money either way," Katie pointed out and Montague's face flushed red like she was deliberately mocking him. She hadn't been, for once. It was just a fact.

"Am I supposed to apologize for being wealthy?" Montague said acidly.

"You're not wealthy," Katie couldn't resist.

"Oh, really?" Montague said, gesturing around them with exaggerated motions. The flat was enormous, plus, quite clearly cost more money than Katie's parents' whole house and her flat's worth combined. "What do you call this, then?"

"Your parent's money," Katie said, "unless you've got a job I don't know about?"

Montague's red face had extended down his neck.

"Sorry," he sneered, "I forgot you're impressed by knut-less Muggles with mutilated bodies. And the Weasley's pig barn. That's what gets Katie Bell's knickers all wet, right?"

Far from being the insult Montague seemed to think this was, Katie was bored. For some reason, Slytherins were under the impression that using the Weasley brothers as an insult was the vilest of slurs, that every Gryffindor girl could be taunted with a secret Weasley crush.

"So which one am I supposedly wet for?" Katie asked, her eyes still rolled upwards. "Wait wait, let me guess. Ron? I'm jealous of Hermione? Or I cry into my pillow every night wishing I was Fleur Delacour?"

"Don't ask me to fathom your sad little mind," Montague said, "I just saw you flinging yourself at some gross Muggles all night, don't forget. You clearly can't be trusted."

"You sound jealous," Katie said. She knew Montague wasn't, of course, but she also knew this was guaranteed to push some very amusing buttons.

"Jealous?" Montague sneered, "what are you even referring to? The Weasley pig barn? The hovel you live in with Spinnet and Johnson? A Muggle with a skin disease and metal bits?"

"All of the above," Katie said, crossing her arms again. In the opulent pure-blood ambiance her Muggle clothes felt skimpy once more.

"I think you're the one who hit your head, Bell," Montague said.

"No, think about it," Katie said, "you're jealous that the Weasley's actually love their children, instead of shipping them off to nannies and house elves. You're jealous I have real friends who I trust. And you're jealous you weren't snogging me earlier."

Montague stepped right in her face, his angry expression made more ominous by the dried blood.

"You don't know me," he hissed, "so don't assume anything about me. You think I want you?"

"Of course you do," Katie lied glibly, she refused to look rattled. Perhaps it wasn't so wise to be alone in her Slytherin enemies flat while she was still somewhat intoxicated, "it's obvious."

"Is it?" Montague said, he was so close they could practically kiss. He looked like violence was on his mind, however, not kissing. "You think I would touch you with a ten foot broom?" he looked her over with scorn. "You?"

"Why wouldn't you?" Katie taunted, "cause I'm Muggleborn? Give me one other reason you've been hovering around me like a gnat all night." She really did want to know the real reason.

"Ammunition," Montague said, "I assure you, this is going to be the star of pure-blood gatherings for years. Little Katie Bell, pure little virginal Gryffindor miss, too uptight for dirty Slytherins, total slut for Muggles."


Katie paused, waiting for the groans that would follow this. Angelina looked at her, her head in her palm, than looked at Alicia.

"Well?" Alicia said. "Why'd you stop?"

"Aren't you going to ask me what I was thinking again?" Katie said, "After he admitted he was going to use my actions as blackmail and called me a slut for the umpteenth time?"

"No," Ange said, "we know what's happening, even if you don't."

"What does that mean?" Katie said. Her voice was higher pitched then it should be.

"We'll tell you later," Alicia said, "Just finish it, and then we'll tell you what happened."

"I know what happened," Katie said, dumbfounded, "I was the one that was there, wasn't I? I was the one who..um..."

"Got naked with a Slytherin?" Alicia said helpfully, "Stuck your tongue down Graham Montague's throat?"

"Alicia," Ange said, clearly trying not to laugh," you got naked with Ernie Macmillan. Lay off for a moment, would you? Katie, we'll explain later."

"Fine," Katie said. You could use her face as a frying pan.


Katie made to slap Montague again for calling her a slut but he grabbed her hand, and suddenly they were grappling with each other, falling onto his giant expensive couch, Katie hissing that Montague was a pig while he laughed at her, then pinned her to couch so she couldn't hit him again.

"Can't wait to tell Pucey," he jeered while Katie struggled to extricate herself from his pin, "he always said your good girl thing was total bullshit, that all I had to do was-"

Katie kneed him in the balls.

Montague fell off the couch in silence, writhing around the ground, his mouth open in a silent scream.

"Accio sober-up swiftly," Katie said, and a handful of little potion bottles flew at her. She grabbed one, drank it as Montague found his voice and groaned in agony. Sense and reason (and deep embarrassment at some of her behavior) fully returned.

"Right," she said as Montague wheezed, "hold still. Episkey!"

His ribs snapped back together and Montague shrieked.

"Drink this," Katie said, tossing him another bottle of Sober-Up Swiftly.

Montague was gasping for air, but he'd caught the bottle, Quidditch reflexes still intact.

"I'm not drunk," he said finally, sounding irritated.

"Just drink it," Katie snapped. She should leave. She didn't know why she cared about finding out if Montague's behavior was due to him being drunk or not. But she wanted to know.

Montague glared at her, but he popped the cork and drank it with a wince. The sobering potion was particularly foul.

"Feel better?" Katie asked. She should leave. Now. Just leave. Hope Montague would never tell anyone how she looked in a short skirt and a tight shirt, wouldn't tell every guy in Slytherin how Katie had snogged a complete stranger.

"Peachy," Montague groaned, climbing back up on the couch next to her. "Thanks for that knee to the balls, by the way."

"You had it coming," Katie retorted, "You brought it on yourself."

"Right," Montague said sarcastically, poking himself in the spot where she'd fixed his ribs.

"Better?" Katie asked. Not like she cared if he was still in pain.

Montague took off his shirt.

"What are you doing?" Katie said. She had been trying for disgust but she was afraid her voice had gone a bit shrill from surprise.

"I'm checking if I'm healed," Montague snapped, "I let myself get attacked by Muggles just so I could defend your non-existent honor, remember?" he felt gingerly around his ribs.

"And why did you do that?" Katie asked. Not that she believed that that was why Montague had done it, but she was trying to distract herself from the fact that she was sitting in Graham Montague's flat alone, in Muggle club wear, while he was shirtless.

"Because you promised to fix me up in exchange for getting you sober," Montague said, "how are you more forgetful now that you're not drunk?"

Katie glanced at him while he kept feeling around his chest, glaring at her. She had the odd suspicion that Montague was trying to re-direct the conversation from his comment about defending her honor.

"You just have to make everything as unpleasant as possible, don't you?" Katie said. There was something so uncomfortable about the whole situation that she was fighting every urge to flee like a coward. She could take Montague in a wand fight if need be. She'd survived the Battle of Hogwarts, hadn't she?

"Are you going to fix me or not?" Montague said, still feeling up his own body. Katie had another odd suspicion, but she immediately dismissed it.

"You're fixed," Katie said, "unless something else is wrong besides your ribs."


"You immediately dismissed what?" Ange said.

"Oh, I was wrong," Katie shrugged. "You'll just laugh at me."

"Worse than we already have?" Alicia pointed out.

Katie grimaced. Well. It was true.

"I thought for a second he was trying to get me to look at him shirtless," Katie said, "the way he kept fondling himself while talking to me. But I know that's silly. He was trying to find more damage."

Alicia's head plunked on the table, and she groaned. Ange covered her face with her hands.

"Katie," Alicia said from the place mat, her words somewhat muffled, "that was obviously what he was doing."

"I know," Katie said, needled, "he was obviously trying to find damage. That's why I dismissed- what?!"


"You're not going to get rid of the blood?' Montague asked, gesturing at his face with one hand. The other was still prodding at his own torso. Katie was making sure to look directly into his eyes.

"You can use a towel and some water," Katie said acidly, "I'm not your mother."

"Will you stop bringing up my mother?" Montague snarled.

"It's just a phrase, you big baby," Katie said, "ugh, fine. Aguimenti!" and Montague was blasted in the face with water. As funny as it was to see him sputter through the blast, she hadn't quite thought that one through, because now the blood was gone and he was shirtless and dripping wet. She couldn't help it. Her eyes darted. Even worse, she couldn't stop the fleeting feeling of being impressed at what she saw. Getting rid of the Flint esque bulk had done Montague a world of good.

"Take a picture Bell," Montague said, spitting out water.

"Ew," Katie said, but secretly she was grateful. Montague had very effectively stopped the weird feeling with the spittle.

Montague picked up the discarded shirt and rubbed his wet face with it, removing the rest of the blood remnants. He winced.

"What?" Katie said, "Something still broken?"

It wasn't that she cared, not at all, but healing was a career she'd considered and Flitwick had tried to talk her into until he found out her abysmal Potions and Herbology marks, so she took her healing charms seriously. She'd saved Justin Fintch-Fletchley's life in the Battle of Hogwarts with a blood staunching charm. But she didn't like to think about that.

"Can't tell," Montague said, giving a tiny shrug which made him wince again, "can you feel here and tell me?" He indicated a spot on his right abdomen, just below his pectoral muscles.

Katie moved closer, intent on solving the problem. Her fingers gently touched Montague's abs, which were certainly not spectacular or anything, and he winced.

"Here too," he said, taking her hand and moving it to the left side of his body.

Katie's fingers skittered around, gently pressing here and there. Her long hair stuck to part of Montague's wet chest.

"Try here," Montague said, moving her hand again, and Katie had to move her whole body. So intent was she on finding a problem that it took her far too long to realize she was practically in Montague's lap. "What about here?" Katie asked, pressing a bruised spot, her hair brushing Montague more, and suddenly she noticed that he was getting goose pimples from the cold.


"Yeah, that's it," said Alicia, whose head was still on the place mat, "he was cold."

Angelina laughed, a little hysterically. "And so injured, don't forget," she added, "a mysterious injury that requires copious groping to heal."

"God Katie," Alicia mumbled into the table, "no wonder he tricked you. He smiled that nice smile and showed you how rich he was-"

"-and called her a slut repeatedly, insulted her Muggle friends, insulted us-" Ange added.

"-and got in a brawl to hit some Muggles who were rude-"

"-not as rude as he had been-"

"-and then," Alicia continued, as Katie had buried her own face in her hands. Retelling the story had made her realized how she was as clueless as Ron Weasley about the opposite sex.

"-then," Alicia persisted, "he used your weakness for healing people against you to get you to fondle him without you even realizing what he was doing! You didn't even realize it until now, did you?"

"No," Katie whimpered, than she tried a joke to heal her misery a little. "Guess I wasn't sorted into Ravenclaw for a reason, huh?"

"Or Slytherin," Alicia said, voice still muffled, "you didn't even suspect that this whole thing had ulterior motives, and then it worked! God, we need to get him back for this. What is Montague's weakness?"

"Blonde hair," Angelina, who had chugged a mimosa said with a hiccup, "long legs. Gryffindor girls named Katie Bell."

Alicia snickered, than her head popped up with sudden animation.

"Well continue, Katie! What was he like in bed? How big was his Johnson?"

"Excuse you?" Angelina said, but then she cackled the cackle of a drunk who'd just had their last name used as an alternative to saying penis.

"What noises did he make when he-"

"Oh my god," Katie moaned, "stop, I beg you."

"No, we need blackmail material!" Alicia said, hitting her fist on the table, "you know he's got ammunition on you, we need knowledge to retaliate with!"

"Yeah," Ange giggled, "did he cry afterwards? Did he last twelve seconds?"

Alicia began laughing too. "Did he make you tie him up? Did he ask you to call him Daddy?"

"I'm going to vomit," Katie said.

"Probably because you've consumed your body weight in alcohol in the past twelve hours," Alicia said.


"Here," Montague said, his voice sounding strange, like he was in pain, and Katie's hands were both now on his chest. She lost her balance, and fell half on his lap before immediately scrambling off in embarrassment.

"Sorry," she said, face red.

"It's ok," Montague said, voice constricted.

"I don't think anything's broken," Katie said, trying to regain professionalism. She doubted St. Mungo's healers frequently sat in the lap of their shirtless and wet patients in Muggle club gear. "Do you have a healing salve? That could help with the sore bruises."

"Probably," Montague said, "I've got almost everything. Accio Healing Salve!" a little jar flew their way and Katie caught it. She made to hand it to Montague.

"What are you doing?" he said, not taking it.

"Aren't you going to use it?" Katie asked.

"Aren't you going to put it on me?" Montague asked.

"What?" Katie scoffed, "no. I told you, nothing's broken. You're fine. Time for me to leave."

"I need help putting in on," Montague whined, still not taking it, "my muscles are sore. Didn't you see how often those Muggles hit me while I defended you?"

"You've called me a slut about eight times since you defended me," Katie said, pushing the jar into his chest, "you don't get an award."

She made to get up and then Montague's hand was around her wrist.
"Please," he said, "I really am sore. I don't know if I'll be able to reach."

Katie rolled her eyes with a heavy sigh.

"You're buying the pizza next weekend," she grumbled without thinking, unscrewing the jar.

It didn't occur to her that she really should've canceled that idea over Montague's subsequent misbehavior until hours later when she had been sneaking out of his apartment without knickers.

"But of course," Montague said easily, "so what is pizza?"

Katie started clinically applying the cream in rapid, harsh motions.

"Ouch, Bell, not so rough!"

"Put it on yourself if you don't like it," Katie said, not altering her speed.

She would be damned if she slowly rubbed Graham Montague with healing ointment and he could somehow twist that and tell all his arsehole friends that he'd gotten Katie Bell as his personal masseuse. "Pizza is the food of the gods. Carbs, cheese, sauce, toppings. Perfection."

"Carbs?" Montague said curiously, "what's that?"

"There," Katie said, "done. I'll explain about pizza later, I've got to go."

Montague's hand was on her again. "But why?" he said, "It's not late."

"It's past two in the morning," Katie pointed out.

"I can make some tea," Montague said, "be a good host."

Katie stood up. "No, I've got to go."

She really didn't know why she'd let Montague manipulate her into staying so long, but the fact that his offer had actually tempted her scared her more than anything else that had happened all night. She had to leave. Now.

Montague stood up as well.

"You haven't even thanked me," Montague said, and his hand was still on her arm. It was surprisingly gentle.

"For what?" Katie asked, "You instigated that fight, I'll have you recall. I was just talking to those guys and then you got them all angry. Then you started punching first. Then you called me names and were rude to my friends. What am I thanking you for? Buying me drinks I could buy myself?"

"You're right," Montague said, changing tactics, "perhaps I should thank you for healing me."

"Great," Katie said.

They looked at each other.

"Well?" Katie prompted.

"I don't usually thank people," Montague said, looking pained.

Katie scoffed, twisting her arm out of Montague's grasp and making her way to the door. He followed.


"You know," Ange said, a touch loudly due to her drunken state, "any normal guy would realize he's already secured a date with you next weekend that he didn't even deserve and wait until then to go for the gold. But not Montague."

"It really adds to his insufferable charm," Alicia joked, "that stench of aggressive desperation."

"Well it worked on Katie," Ange cackled.

"That it did," Alicia said solemnly, "that it did."

"I am properly ashamed about it, okay?" Katie said, "I didn't even know my brain was this messed up."

"Well, we've all got our crosses," Alicia said, clearly fighting a laugh. "I occasionally fuck Hufflepuffs."

"I've fucked twins," Ange said, hiccupping.

"Oh, who hasn't?" Alicia said, waving her hand. Ange cackled again.


"I'll need your address," Montague said to her back, "to pick you up next weekend."

"I'll just meet you there," Katie said obliviously. "I'll owl you the address."

"Great," Montague said, then, as he hadn't been an asshole for five whole minutes, he couldn't contain it any longer.

"Wear something nice and short again, won't you Bell? I'm quite enjoying the view. I had no idea your legs looked that great. Maybe wear something more low cut next time, yeah? Show a little-"

Katie had been reaching for the doorknob and freedom but this couldn't be borne. She spun back, kicking Montague with her great looking legs, aiming for his balls again. Montague, now that they were both sober, had all of his Quidditch reflexes at his disposal and managed to twist away enough that Katie hit his upper thigh again.

"Forget it," Katie said as Montague grunted with pain, "pizza's done. Fuck you, you pig. Don't show up at a Muggle club again."

She tried to kick out again, but Montague caught her ankle, and Katie felt so horrified at the goosebumps she had from his hand touching her that she twisted violently to get herself free.

"Yeah, sure," Montague said, the sarcasm thick in his voice as Katie did ungainly hops, "I'll just avoid every single Muggle establishment because Princess Perfect told me to. Get bent, Bell."

"Let go of my leg!" Katie said, still twisting and hopping.

"Are you going to kick me again?" Montague demanded.

"Are you going to make a crude comment again?" Katie retorted.

"Probably," Montague said, "your leg feels great. Really smoo-" his hand was traveling up to her knee.

Katie grabbed Montague's shoulders (which were, alas, still bare) and launched herself in the air, kicking with her other leg. Montague grabbed at her other kicking foot, and somehow, Katie was straddling Montague midair, his hands firmly on her kicking calves, her thighs wrapped around his naked torso.

Of all the terrible mistakes Katie had made in her dating life, this won the pink fluffy tiara.

"Fuck," Montague hissed, seeming to realize they'd gotten in this extremely sexual position by accident at the same time Katie had. Unlike Katie, who'd frozen like a rabbit in a snare at the fact that she was midair straddling a shirtless Graham Montague in a skirt that had only gotten far shorter due to her body position, Montague came to his senses far faster. If by "came to his sense," you meant leaned forward and kissed Katie.