Chapter Four: Hangovers, Headaches, and Hellman

Katie had the mother of all hangovers. She supposed drinking almost continuously for thirty hours did that to you. She'd forgotten to ask Alicia for a hangover potion, and here she was, squinting in the sun, head pounding, listening to Gwenog Jones scream at Marielle O'Slattery for letting herself get hit by a Bludger from her fellow Beater. You'd think the Bludger hitting her dead on would be punishment enough, but Gwenog always ran a tight ship. Katie had often assumed that was due to Gwenog knowing they were the all only female team in the league. In fact, they were the only team in the league that had more then two women on first string. That left them with no option but to work thrice as hard to prove that they were just as good.

Losing to the Slytherins hadn't even stung as badly as losing to the Falcons two years ago, her first year on the first string. Marcus Flint was one of their Chasers. He'd shaken Katie's hand after the game with a malicious grin, all of his terrible teeth on display. She'd waited for her bones to get crushed as was his wont, but instead Flint had leaned in and told her her legs would be put to better use wrapped around him.

Katie had thought she'd get suspended, that the slap would get splashed all over the papers, but when Gwenog Jones had stormed over she'd not even had to ask what had happened. She screamed in Flint's face, shaking a finger, telling him to stop sexually harassing her players if he ever wanted a career. Then she'd screamed at Jimmy Falwell, the Falcon's team Captain to get his players in line. Instead of getting in trouble, Katie had been a tiny byline in a massive story about the heroism of Gwenog Jones, who cowed all other captains and demanded respect for her teammates.

The Quibbler, however, had run a photo of the slap, and Luna had written a long article about how Katie was clearly helping Flint overcome a demonic possession. There was, alas, nothing to be done for the damage the demon had done to Flint's teeth.

George had blown the photo up to astronomical sizes and hung it in his office at Weasley's Wizard Wheezes for six months.

Katie, for her part, had torn out a copy, slathered some red lipstick on, kissed the article, and sent it to Flint. He'd sent back a rather obscene Howler. Apparently he was annoyed at all the ribbing he'd gotten for getting put in his place by two women. The upside, however, was that Gwenog had thawed considerably toward Katie after the incident.

She didn't know, however, if Jones would tolerate her worst first string Chaser showing up hungover and on the verge of vomit.

"You OK, Katie?" Ginny yelled as she flew past, tossing the Quaffle from one hand to the other in a complicated pattern.

"Peachy," Katie grunted.

Bile unexpectedly rose in her mouth when she tried to fly a drill after Ginny, and she was forced to swallow it. This was going to be a long practice.

Katie wiped her forehead two hours later. It was boiling hot, she was visibly sweating, but she was clammy. Perhaps she was getting ill. Montague's dick had given her some toxic, slow wasting disease. It would explain everything. He was trying to woo her with presents to get in her bed again to finish her off. Well. Maybe Luna's article about Flint's demonic possession made more sense then Montague having a bubonic plague penis.

"Bell," Jones said sharply into her left ear, and Katie winced against her will as a stab of pain shot through her head.

"Captain?" Katie said weakly as a bludger rocketed their way, and Jones dodged.

Katie was forced to roll over on her broom. More vomit came in her mouth that she had to swallow.

"You pregnant, Bell?" Jones barked at her.

It was the absolute last thing Katie expected to hear.

"What?" she said, wiping cold sweat off her forehead as across the field Shelley Smathers caught her third snitch of the day.

"Because if you are, you have to report it right away for safety reasons," Jones said, "and we need to start training up Hellman."

Hellman was the best of the second string Chasers; arrogant, beautiful, popular with the fans, and a constant thorn in Katie's side. She'd barely beaten Hellman for first string Chaser two years ago, and it had been even harder this year when they'd had open tryouts again. Jones believed in annual tryouts so her team didn't get complacent. No one could complain, since she put herself through them as well.

As usual, Jones had smashed Ginny and Katie and all other Chaser competition, but Hellman had almost outperformed Katie until she'd performed a perfect Wronski feint at the last moment right in front of Jones. Hellman had shaken her hand after the tryout, but her smile was falser then Pansy Parkinson's eyelashes.

"I'm not preg-" this time the vomit came up unexpectedly, Katie's mouth was already open, and it burst free, hitting the field two hundred feet below.

"Ew!" Juliet Northrup shrieked from next to them. She whacked the bludger hastily when it aimed at Katie again.

"Not pregnant?" Jones said dryly.

Katie heaved again, but nothing came up. The thought of having Montague's baby made her heave once more, and this time quite a lot came out. They'd been safe, at least. She remembered the whispered contraceptive charm Montague had cast on her. Unless he was totally inept at charm work, of course.

"Oh god," Katie said helplessly and heaved again.

"Bell," Jones said, her facial expression reminiscent of Minerva McGonagall, "how could you be so fool-"

"I'm hungover," Katie said hastily, "I'm sorry. I forgot to buy a sober up potion. I didn't mention it because I thought it would be unprofessional."

"You're right," Jones said, "this is much more professional," she gestured at the vomit below that one of the grounds keeping staff was vanishing.

Katie whimpered with guilt and embarrassment.

"I'm sorry," she said, "I really do appreciate being first string. I didn't want to mess it up like this."

"Team!" Jones bellowed, not looking at Katie, "take five! Run dive drills. I've got to get Bell a potion for the stomach flu."

Without looking at Katie she flew toward the locker room, and Katie followed, her heart hammering. She'd barely made the first string team. She wasn't the best Chaser, she never had been. She hadn't even been made Captain in her Seventh Year. Then she'd touched a cursed necklace and lost almost her whole last year, the year they got scouted by professional Quidditch teams. She'd had to work very, very hard to get on a team as a reserve. And she'd had to work even harder for first string.

Sometimes, Katie suspected she'd only gotten it for the positive press. After all Hellman and the other reserve string girls hadn't been a friend of Harry Potter, the wizarding world's boy hero. They hadn't fought Voldemort and the Death Eaters. And the papers loved to mention how the Holyhead Harpies were the only team in the league who had two such heroes flying for them.

Oliver of course played for Puddlemere, and Ange played for the Kenmore Kestrals, although lately she'd become convinced she was going to get cut. Alicia was stuck in the reserves for the Wimbourne Wasps, but only the Harpies had two first string heroines. Katie suspected Gwenog Jones had shrewdly played that angle for more positive press, more sponsors.

"Captain," Katie tried again to Jones's back, as they began the descent to the locker room, "I'm really sorr-"
"Stop apologizing Bell," Jones snapped over her shoulder, "you gave me a justified reason to scream at Jimmy Falwell in public and got us five new sponsors for slapping Flint. That's worth more then you showing up hungover to practice once. Do you know how long I've wanted an excuse to scream at Jimmy Falwell?"

"No," Katie said.

"Fifteen goddamn years," Jones said with relish, "and it was brilliant. Hellman's almost as good as you but she's a spoiled little prima donna. Would use all of her press to sell skimpy robes and makeup. You could do the same with that body and face but you don't. I respect that."

Katie's mouth dropped.

"Nothing wrong with selling what you've got," Gwenog continued as they landed, "but not on my team. Not when we've fought and clawed for respect from the male teams. They already call us the fuckable team, did you know that? Take bets on who gets to sleep with us."

Katie felt her stomach drop, then forced herself to remember that Montague had never flown on a team again after the twins had shoved him in that cabinet. He couldn't be part of a bet like that.

"The boys almost went into fits betting when I promoted you and Weasley," Jones said, voice clipped as they made their way to her office. "Weasley's got The Chosen One hanging off of her so that's not as much of a problem, but then I've got you flying about like a supermodel. Every bloke's dream."

Katie wondered if she was still drunk. Sure, she knew some boys had liked her in recent years. But she'd been all elbows and knees at school, not all that popular with the guys. That was Alicia and Ginny, and that's how she felt still in her heart.

"But you only care about the game," Jones said, rummaging through some drawers, "I haven't had to deal with you dangling on the arm of some arse who had placed a bet on getting in your knickers. Hellman, however, would make my life hell. Pardon the pun." She tossed a bottle at Katie.

"I'm not pregnant," Katie repeated, "you don't have to worry about getting Hellman instead."

"Excellent," Jones said, "at least give me six months warning to straighten up Hellman if you do decide to get knocked up. So who won his little bet last night?"

Katie turned green. From the way Jones was staring at her, she knew lying was not going to work.

"No one," Katie mumbled, "no one won a bet. At least not a professional Quidditch guy."

Jones nodded once and Katie drank the potion. As soon as the nausea and blinding headache left, some of her spirit returned to her.

"You know," Katie said, "You could've told me and Ginny about the bets. What if I had slept with some Quidditch jerk with a bet on? I would've liked a warning."

"I shouldn't have to warn my fellow Chasers not to be idiots," Jones said ominously, as they made their way back outside. "Any dimwit with two eyes would notice-" She trailed off, squinting.

Katie turned to see what her Captain was looking at. Her blood ran cold.

Sitting in the first row of the stands in the practice field was Montague. He was, thank god for small mercies, not holding a giant flower explosion or boxes of edible panties.

He was scanning the flying Chasers with a frown on his face. Second and third string were out practicing on the field with the first string so there were lots of flying women to parse through.

Katie took a step backwards, closer to the locker room, when she saw that Jones was watching her closely.

"Who's that?" she asked. "Thought you said there wasn't a guy?"

"I said no professional Quidditch guy won a bet," Katie said, her face burning like the sun. Montague still hadn't spotted her. Maybe, if she ran fast…?

Jones turned and looked at Montague again. He was wearing Muggle clothes for some reason, a black jumper this time and jeans. His trainers were propped on the railing in front of him, his overly tight jumper showing off his muscular form in an irritating fashion.

"Well, he's fit," Jones said, in the same tones she used when circling her players after holidays to make sure they hadn't indulged in too many puddings and pies. "Just make sure you don't let him knock you up before I modify Hellman's mind or find another Chaser to replace you."

"It was a one time thing," Katie said hastily, taking another step back. There was still time to flee. How had Montague even gotten permission to get in the practice stands?

"Bell, we've got another two hours of practice," Jones said, and it was very hard to tell with her, but did she sound amused at Katie's agony? "And Hellman's circling your man like a shark scenting chum," she added.

Katie took a step forward. The second string women had spotted Montague from where they'd been running sprinting drills nearby and Hellman, who was in possession of rather large breasts and pouty lips, had flown over to speak to Montague.

"Whatever," Katie said, coming to her senses, backing away again, "she can have him. I don't want him."

But, perversely, she couldn't stop watching the younger girl's attempts at flirting. Hellman was definitely not trying to kick out Montague from the practice field, judging by the way she was jutting out her chest and flipping her hair.

"I don't think your man wants her to have him though," Jones said, and she was definitely trying not to to laugh now.

Montague had crossed his arms and was scowling. He looked away from Hellman, scanning the other woman flying again.

"He's not my man," Katie snapped again, ruder then she'd ever been to her Captain. But the sassier she got with Jones, the funnier Jones seemed to find her.

"Why not?" she said, "he's got sense. Look, he's trying to make Hellman and her tits go away."

Montague was visibly clenching his jaw with annoyance, and they both saw him making a shooing motion with his hand at Hellman. Katie couldn't help it. She snorted. Jones grinned at her, then eyed Montague again.

"Guys that pretty are either tigers or duds in the sack. Nothing in between. What did you get, Bell? A dud I'm guessing, since you don't want him."

"No he was-"

Katie clapped her hand to her mouth while Jones laughed. Why had she automatically defended Montague?

"Ahhh," Jones said, "he was so good you're in denial. Let me guess. This is some dumb Slytherin and Gryffindor thing. He's got that arrogant look to him, even if he's wearing Muggle clothes."

"Bingo," Katie said.

"Bingo?" Jones repeated.

"Er, sorry," Katie said, "It's a Muggle saying. It means, exactly. You've got it right."

"Well, there are worse guys to do a one-nighter with," Jones said, and Katie was forced to reevaluate her generally terrifying Captain all at once. Maybe all she'd had to do to win her over was act as big of a mess as possible.

"Flint, for one," Jones continued, as Katie kept edging to the safety of the locker room. "Good thing his attempt at getting you in bed was so terrible—Bell!"

Katie jumped.

"I told you practice isn't over," Jones said, and the ominous tone her in voice was far more familiar, "Get on your broom-"

"Katie!" Ginny shouted, and Katie closed her eyes in horror, "feeling better?"

She opened her eyes. Hellman was pouting, although it was unclear if it was due to Montague being rude or Katie being well enough to keep flying and denying her a spot on the first string today. Montague smirked at her, then stood, going to the rail.

"Bell!" he shouted, waving at her.

He was trying to smile sweetly, like a normal boyfriend showing up to practice would, but he was incapable of sweetness, and instead he looked unbearably smug. Plus, there was the weird fact that he'd called her by her last name. What boyfriend did that?

Everyone looked from her to Montague and back again. Hellman's expression darkened, but not nearly as badly as Ginny's did.

"Katie," she said, flying over and leaping off her broom next to her, "is that Graham Montague?"

"No," Katie said stupidly.

Of course it was Montague. Just because he'd lost some troll bulk and was wearing Muggle clothes, Ginny would know that it was Montague, even if they'd never faced off against each other in Quidditch.

Hellman leaned in close to Montague, fluttering her eyelashes.

"Get back to sprint drilling, Hellman!" Gwenog shouted, blowing her whistle. "Weasley, get back to dive drills!"

Ginny reluctantly mounted her broom, looking between Katie and Montague.

"We can talk about it later," she said ominously. Katie knew if there was one Weasley who'd react worse then George to her indiscretions, it was Ginny, a notorious hothead who'd had it out for every Slytherin for years.

"Get back to dive drilling," Jones said again, and Ginny hastily flew off. Everyone was scared of Gwenog.

"Thanks," Katie said, and Montague waved at her again.

"Take care of this, Bell," Gwenog said, "fast. Then get back to flying."

"Yes captain," Katie said dutifully, as Montague grinned at her in triumph when she mounted her broom, flying over. If she thought she could get away with ignoring him until he went away, she would. But she knew better.

"Hello, Bell," he said as Katie hovered in midair in front of him. "Did you-"

"What are you doing here?" Katie hissed, "are you trying to get me thrown off the team?"

"Thrown off the team?" Montague said, emphasizing each word with disbelief. "For what?"

"Banging morons," Katie said bluntly, "Jones will doubt my intelligence."

"And here I thought you were going to feign that you were blackout drunk the other night, Bell," Montague said delightedly, "and didn't remember a thing. I'm happily surprised."

"We both drunk sober up potions," Katie said, "how would I possibly pretend that I was black out drunk?"

"Gryffindor denial runs deep," Montague said sagely, "and you ignored me all day yesterday, didn't you?"

"I don't owe you anything," Katie said tightly, everyone was probably watching them still. It was so humiliating. They would be asking Ginny who Montague was. Hellman was probably still waggling her tits around. "I would send back your gifts but Ange and Alicia have taken most of it. Sorry."

"Not the candy knickers?" Montague said, eyebrows raised.

"Alicia snagged them immediately," Katie said.

"What a shame," Montague said, "I did want to eat those off of you."
Katie went beet red.

"I'll send more," Montague said, "not a problem."

"Yes there's a problem," Katie hissed, "what's wrong with you?"

"Please be more specific," Montague said, "my father has a long list, for instance."

Katie fought a laugh. She changed track.

"Are you going to tell everyone?" she asked.

"Tell everyone what?" Montague said.

"Stop being difficult," Katie said, "I know that's your specialty, but I've got about two more minutes before Jones beats me with a Beater's bat for still talking to you. Are you telling all of your friends about fucking me?"

"Haven't you told your friends?" Montague asked.

"Not because I wanted to," Katie said angrily, "You knew what sending me those presents would do. You know I share a flat with Ange and Alicia. You're the one who showed up here where Ginny and all my teammates would see you."

"What's the problem?" Montague said irritatingly.

She'd believe his act, maybe, if he wasn't grinning like the arsehole he was.

"So you might want everyone to know I let you in my knickers like a...like a..." Katie faltered, "but I don't particularly want to be taunted with this by your little mates for the rest of my life."

"Taunted with what?" Montague said, putting his hands in his expensive Muggle jeans. Why was he always so relentlessly difficult?

"Well, presumably comments about my promiscuity," Katie said, face burning, "maybe crude comments on my body. Are you going to tell them details? Am I going to be faced with signs at my games about the color of my nipples or something?"

Montague frowned.

"Did you know the male Quidditch players have an ongoing bet on which one of them gets to sleep with the Harpies?" Katie continued. Her eyes felt wet. Oh god. No. "Were you in on that?"

"Bell, I haven't played Quidditch in many years," Montague said, slowly, "you know that. My brain got fucked up by that cabinet. I can't fly well anymore."

"Oh," Katie said, Montague was blurry. Her eyes were still full of tears, "I didn't know. That's awful."

"You really think that of me?" Montague demanded, "that I'd...what? Discuss the shape of your—y'know. With Flint?"

One tear fell from her eyes. Katie bit her lips so she'd stop.

"I'm not a fucking wanker," Montague said, while Katie wiped hard at her eyes. She could see clearly again. Montague looked really mad. "You think I want them to know what you're like in bed? What you look like naked?"

"Of course," Katie said finally, "I mean, it's a good laugh, right?"

"A laugh?" Montague said, "are you daft, Bell? Just because I was in Slytherin doesn't mean I wasn't taught how to be a gentleman."

"Bell!" Gwenog Jones screamed from across the field, "stop talking to pretty boy and get back to work!"

"I came here to ask you out to dinner," Montague said shortly, "but I see you think I've been composing owls with nude drawings of you and sending them to everyone I know in Slytherin."

"Dinner?" Katie said blankly.

"BELL!" Jones screamed.

"No, don't bother answering," Montague said, "you're right, I'm too busy writing a full length novel describing your tits and publishing it to take you to-"

"You're the one who wrote me those gross cards," Katie snarled, "about my legs shaking and Gryffindor men not doing it for me. About sending you my bra. Don't act all innocent."

"You're leaving out the line I apparently wrote demanding a three-way with Flint to win a bet," Montague retorted.

Katie gagged.

"BELL I SWEAR TO MERLIN!" Jones screamed at the top of her lungs.

"Pick me up at eight," Katie said abruptly, "wear Muggle clothes. I don't want to go to some dull wizard place. I want to go to a pub."

If Montague had gone this long without telling his mates, maybe the promise of dinner, the delusion of him getting more pieces of her arse would give her time to formulate a plan.

Montague grinned.

"Wear a dress," he told her, "hiding those legs should be criminal."

Katie gagged again.


As expected, Ginny cornered her after practice in the locker room. Montague had watched the rest of practice, clapping for Katie's successful maneuvers and goals, affecting boredom when Hellman pulled off an incredibly complicated trick right in front of him. He'd dutifully waved and left when practice was over, and Katie made her way to the locker room while her teammates bombarded her with questions and laughter on who he was, her heart pounding. If there had been even the slightest chance she could hide this dalliance with Montague, he'd ruined it by showing up to practice. Hellman was looking Katie up and down, her mouth twisted.

"He's just a friend," Katie kept repeating stubbornly, "an old school chum."

Ginny and Jones both knew she was lying, of course, but her Captain was above gossip and contained herself to one smirk at Katie before ordering them all to get in the showers since they reeked.

Ginny had kept silent, her brown eyes big and reproachful as Juliet and Marielle demanded to know more about Montague, and since Katie claimed he was single, could she pass along their names to him?

"What's his name again, Bell?" Hellman said sweetly, knowing Katie had ducked every attempt to identify Montague to her teammates.

"Graham Montague," Juliet said, "that's what Weasley said. You know him, Ginny?"

"Yes," Ginny said shortly, "he was the same year as my brothers at Hogwarts."

"Which brother?" Hellman said, still sweet as pie, but Ginny knew it was a dig about the amount of siblings she had just as much as Katie did.

"My murdered brother, Fred," Ginny said bluntly, "and his twin. Thank you for the reminder."

"Hellman stop being a twat and everyone get in the showers!" Jones had boomed from her office, and that had stopped that conversation.

Shelley had had a tragic date the weekend before she was dying to discuss and that had taken over the conversation after showers. Then Ginny had cornered her while everyone else trickled out.

"Does my brother know about this?" She demanded, hands on hips.

"George does, if that's who you mean," Katie said gloomily.

If only it had been Percy she'd told. He would have taken it a lot better.

"And he told you why he shoved Montague in that cabinet?" Ginny asked.

"Yeah, the twins told us right after it happened. He tried to take points from Gryffindor," Katie said.

"No," Ginny said, "that's not why."

"What d'you mean?" Katie said, "that's what they told everyone."

"Not everyone," Ginny said grimly, "I know why they really did it. Ask him, before you get further entangled with Montague."
"I'm not entangled with Montague," Katie said, face hot.

Sure she'd spent all of her Saturday night with the guy, half of it in his bed. And yeah, she'd accidentally made a date with him for pizza for next weekend. And of course, she'd just agreed to get dinner with him tonight…

"Oh no?" Ginny said. "Look Katie, I get it. My fifth year? I had at least five Slytherin boys ask me out. Sixth year they had to be more discreet, because of the whole Voldemort running the school thing, but I got even more Slytherin boys after me that year."

"Does Harry know that?" Katie said, curious.

"Harry was busy saving the world," Ginny said, "and anyway, nothing happened. But it was flattering. It felt exciting, like I was doing something wrong and dangerous. I get it. But stay away from Montague. Trust me."

"Can't you just tell me why George-"

"No," Ginny said, "I promised. Stop by the shop, ask him yourself. He's working. Ron might be helping out today so avoid him overhearing of course. Unless you want him to challenge Montague to a duel or something. You know how Ron is about Slytherins."


"Didn't know you were in the market for love potions, Katie," Ron Weasley said over her left shoulder.

Katie stood up from the bright pink bottles she'd been mesmerized by. They had spinning hearts on top.

"She's definitely not," George said, "has got too much of that already, eh Katie?"

"Indubitably," Katie said dryly.

Ron looked between her and George as the tension rose for reasons unknown to him. Thank god George had found out in front of Ange and Alicia. They'd only let him shout for a few moments before they had stormed to Katie's defense. But those few moments had been ugly. Fred's name and memory had been invoked. So had Colin Creevey's. Even Remus. Apparently, Montague had been quite cruel to him during the Slytherin Defense Against the Dark Arts lessons. It had been the talk of George and Fred's year for a solid week.

After they'd gotten George to stop shouting, he'd switched to an even toned recital of every arsehole thing Montague had ever done. Even knowing Montague as Katie did, she'd been stunned by half of it. And there was still something George hadn't told her apparently. Yet, she'd agreed to let Montague take her out to dinner tonight. Perhaps it had been self preservation. It had been the desire to get him to shut up, to keep his nasty thoughts about her in the sack to himself until Katie had a plan that had made her suggest it. But perhaps part of Katie wanted to go out on a date with him. She couldn't figure it out.

"Something you needed, Katie?" George said evenly.

Ron frowned.

"Is that any way to talk to our friend?" he said, reaching forward and hugging Katie, who gratefully hugged him back. She wondered if Ron would be so ready with his hugs when he found out as well.

"I need to talk to you," Katie said to George.

"I think we already talked," he said coldly, as Ron released her.

"What's wrong with you?" Ron said, bewildered. A customer approached for help.

"It's fine," Katie said, forcing a smile, "we're having a little tiff between friends. It's OK, Ron."

"Be nice," Ron said to George sternly, and then he walked off to help the girl choose between flavors of U-No-Poo.

"We can talk in my office," George said, plucking a bottle from the shelf and leading Katie in. She felt a stab of guilt when she saw one of the many articles pinned on his wall was about the Harpies latest game. It wasn't because of Ginny. Ginny had been ill, and Hellman had had to fill in. Katie had scored three goals.

"I'm sorry for yelling," George said unexpectedly, "yesterday. I'm sorry I threw those unicorn knickers on the ground."

"Those were for Ange," Katie reminded him.

"I know," George said, "It just made me sick to think of her wearing something he bought. Even for a lark."

He pushed the bottle he'd taken from the shelf at her.

"Drink this."

Katie turned it to read the label.

"A love potion antidote?" she said, "really?"

"Just drink it," George said, "please."

Katie sighed but gulped it down, wincing. It tasted like bottled tears and ashes.

George watched her closely. "Feeling better?"

"Not really," Katie said, "since Montague showed up to my practice today and everyone knows I have something going on with him. Even though I tried to lie."

George snorted. "I'm guessing Ginny took that well."

"Better then you did," Katie retorted, and George winced.

"So you feel the same?" he asked, "you're not disgusted that you slept with Montague, like a love potion wore off?"

"I was disgusted I slept with Montague the second it was over," Katie said, "if you really want to know."

"Ah," George said, rubbing his eyes.

"It was just...some weird misplaced energy," Katie said, "I dunno, I can't explain it."
"Angelina said he'd been charming you all night," George said, which Katie thought was a rather charitable assessment by Angelina for her.

"Ginny said you shoved Montague in the cabinet for some other reason," Katie said, "it wasn't about the Inquisitorial squad and points. Did you know Montague can't fly because of that? It messed up his brain."

George snorted. "He's a bloody liar," he said, "I saw him flying after that. I just saw him last year, flying around some pure-blood mansion's gardens with his little arse-hole friends."

"Why were you at a pure-blood mansion?" Katie asked, her stomach dropping. George wouldn't lie to her about seeing Montague fly.

"Charity ball," George said, "I go sometimes. To help raise money for things the pure-blood lot will hate. It's hilarious, they can't say no when you bring up raising money for Muggle-born integration programs and Hermione's house-elf rights or else everyone will think they're a Death Eater that got away. So they trip over themselves to throw money at anything us 'heroes' suggest. I was thinking Fred might like a twenty foot statue in some particularly pure-blood establishment. For a laugh, you know."

"You sure it was Montague?" Katie asked. She felt stupid asking, and pathetic. But it hurt that she'd believed that lie like an idiot.

"Of course," George said, "he even yelled something about you at me."

"What?" Katie said, going clammy again, "what did he say? Why didn't you say any of this yesterday?"

"Well I thought you had better sense then to give him another shot," George said, "but if you're letting him hang around you at practice...Ginny was right to tell you, I guess."

"Ginny didn't tell me anything," Katie said bitterly, "she said to ask you."

George looked guilty. "Katie, I'm sorry," he said as gently as George Weasley ever said anything, "this is going to hurt you."

"I'll be fine," Katie said, "I'm a tough girl. I've killed Death Eaters, haven't I?"

"Yeah," George said, smiling a little, "we took out Selwyn together, remember?"

"I'll never forget," Katie said shivering. Sometimes she was proud. And sometimes she had nightmares.

"You can ask Oliver, too," George said, "about it. He knows some. Since...since I don't have anyone else to back up what I'm going to say."

The ghost of Fred Weasley was, as usual, larger than life.

"Some of what?" Katie said, "please just say it. Get it over with."

George sighed. "Well, the boys trash talked different then you all did, yeah? Not Harry I don't think. He was too young. And off saving the world all the time. And then when Ron and the others joined they weren't part of it. But me and Fred and Oliver, we had different discussions with the Slytherins then you girls did."

"Meaning?" Katie prompted.

"They said a lot of crude stuff," George said, "all of them except Malfoy and his little goons, they were too young at first. But Flint, Warrington, Pucey, Bletchley...Montague."
"Higgs?" Katie said, thinking of her first real crush.

"Higgs? No. He was a decent guy. You should've fucked him last weekend instead, Katie."

"Probably," Katie said miserably, "and you're wrong, George, they said crude stuff to us mid game. 'Ride my broom' things like that."

"Well it was worse then that with us," George said, and then he made Katie's worst nightmare come true. "They had a bet going. There were tiers and everything. A kiss got you five points, a hand job got you fifteen… and so on," he trailed off when he saw the pallor of Katie's skin.

"And none of you told us this why?" Katie finally said, color rising again.

"Well, we knew none of you would do it," George said reasonably, "they were such wankers to you. There's no way it would work. I mean I don't know why they didn't try charming you instead, but we three agreed if they changed tactics to flowers and wooing we'd tell you." He held up a hand when Katie opened up her mouth to demand again why they hadn't just told them anyway.

"Fred got it in his head that Alicia would think it was funny to toy with them. You know, kiss one here or there and get them battling over points until they all lost it, turned on each other. Oliver agreed it would distract you three. I'm sorry, I knew we should've told you."

Katie thought about it as clearly as she could, which wasn't very since she was so sickened.

"Alicia might've done that," she conceded, "she would've thought it was funny. To get them dueling over her."

"Still," George sighed, "it was stupid not to tell you. So Montague did threaten to take points away, initially. He said he would take points away from us for being friends with Mudbloods."

Katie flinched. She knew Montague must say the word, but he hadn't, very carefully hadn't, since she'd run into him at the bar.

"He meant you and Hermione," George clarified, sticking the dagger in further.

"I got that," Katie said, through her clenched teeth. She refused to cry over this.

"But then-"

"There's more?" Katie exploded. She didn't know if she could handle that. This was bad enough.

"Yeah," George said, looking guiltier. "then he said he'd not take points if we helped him um..."

"Don't edit what he said," Katie said severely, correctly guessing what was causing the pause from George.

"...if we helped him get you to fuck him. Or er...other stuff. He wasn't picky, he said. Apparently you'd become the biggest points earner, so he wanted you so he could win. Then he asked us if we'd ever fucked you. He wanted to know what you were like in bed. Her asked us….er."
"What?" Katie said, bile in her mouth again.

"...um. What Mudblood tasted like. So we shoved him in the cabinet. Told him to get bent. I told him to stay away from you. We didn't feel bad about it. I still don't."

"Can you hand me your waste basket," Katie said faintly, and when George hastily did she dry heaved three times, but nothing came out. Well that explained Montague's unexpected generous nature in bed.

"I'm sorry," George repeated helplessly, "I should've told you ages ago. But I never thought..."

"That I was easy and stupid," Katie said wretchedly.

"No, come on," George said, "don't do that. Don't talk about one of my best friends that way. The girl who kicked Death Eater arse and is brave and a great Quidditch player and is a loyal friend. No one gets to talk about that girl like that."
Katie burst into tears.

Ron flung the door open, running in, wild eyed.

"George, what did you do!" he bellowed as Katie wept.


Her meltdown in Weasley's Wizard Wheezes combined with Montague showing up to her practice had led to three of the Weasley brothers descending on her flat with the girls. Ron had invited Percy when he'd heard what was going on, since his genius had been bent to less rule following and more mocking of Rita Skeeter as of late. Ginny, Hermione, and Harry had followed. Oliver had shown up last.

Katie was wearing a dress. It was floor length and covered in tiny buttons. Modest, by Muggle standards. She'd thrown on a baggy cardigan over it. Muggles would find this to be a very conservative look. God knows what Montague would interpret it as. But he'd insisted on a dress. Jerk.

"Wear a chastity belt of spikes," Ron said, "let him get that far, and then his dick will get cut off. Win win!"

"Ronald, you are an Auror," Hermione said.

"I'm on temporary hiatus," Ron reminded her. He'd taken off from his career to help George out for awhile, "I'm thinking like Fred."

"You wish," George muttered.

"Take a picture of his cock," Ginny said, "send it to the gossip mags. 'Tiny dicked pure-blood Slytherin arsehole can't keep it up.'"

"Who's going to read that?" Percy demanded.

"Witch Weekly readers," Alicia said promptly, rubbing her hands together. They had exactly one hour before Katie's date. Montague had sent his owl with some more flowers, and a note saying he'd pick her up at the flat. He was going to get a nasty surprise.

"I can arrest him," Harry said, "for um..."

"Nothing?" Percy said waspishly, "as he hasn't broken a law we know of?"

"He's a terrible Quidditch player now," Oliver said triumphantly, "we can mock him with that!"

"I don't think he cares, Oliver," Ange said.

"We can get him disowned," Hermione said casually.

"Yes!" Ron said, clapping his hands together.

"For what?" Katie asked.

"Shaming the family name by wooing a Muggle-born," Hermione said, and Harry nodded vigorously.

"Won't work," Percy said flatly, "it's an old pure-blood tradition to er, sow wild oats before marriage. It won't surprise his family. Or disturb them."

"Well we have to do something!" Hermione cried, pounding the armchair.

Katie had been least comfortable having Hermione show up to this pow-wow she'd been forced into by Ron and George. She hadn't known Hermione well at all, for all she admired her. But it seemed her passion for fairness was riling her up mightily on Katie's behalf.

"We make fun of how ugly he is," Ron said.

"He looks good now," Ginny said grudgingly.

"Blackmail?" Ange suggested.

"Illegal," Percy said.

"Obliviation?" Harry tried.

"Illegal," Percy repeated.

"Threats of violence?" George said, cracking his knuckles.

"And actual violence?" Oliver said, stretching.

"ILLEGAL," Percy said.

"You got any better ideas, Perce?" Ron snapped.

Percy smirked, and pushed his glasses up his nose.

"As a matter of fact, I do."


A/N: Thank you so much for your support of this story! It really means a lot to read your reviews. I write for my own enjoyment and not widespread readership (or I'd obviously write different pairs lol) so it is really touching to get feedback on this rare pair that I love! :)