Chapter Ten: Marcus Flint Breaks a Leg
"So, you thought you could escape that easily, eh?" George said, one ginger eyebrow cocked.
In one hand, Katie had a large bowl of ice cream covered in hot fudge, whipped cream, sprinkles, and candy pieces. In the other, a spoon the size of a Hagrid utensil to shovel it into her mouth faster.
She was sitting on the couch in their flat in her baggiest, most faded Harpies sweatpants, the extra comfy ones she couldn't bear to part with even though they sported a hole by the right ankle. Her jumper was three sizes too big, lime green and embroidered with the lemon-yellow claw of the harpies. Last Christmas she'd finally earned a status that few ascended to but many coveted: Weasley Christmas jumper status. Ginny had been indignant the first time she'd seen Katie wearing it.
"Ron's right," Ginny had said, "apparently you get a much nicer one if you're not related to mum. And she doesn't give you one that clashes with your hair." Ginny had picked moodily at her bright pink jumper that was unadorned. Just what Katie had done to finally ascend to the level of tier one Wesley clan she wasn't sure. She wasn't dating one of the spawn like Hermione and Harry and Ange, but she supposed she was friends with quite a few of them, and now teammates with Ginny. It was her most prized jumper.
In front of them, her purple eyes huge and moist, enormous jeweled ears down-turned, was Sassy.
"Miss Katie left so soon," she said mournfully, "Master Graham was most devastated."
George snorted.
"I'm sure he's fine, Sassy," Katie said, digging her spoon in determinedly. She'd only arrived five minutes earlier, tottering like she'd broken an ankle, hair disheveled, lipstick smeared just a bit, dress multiple feet shorter than it had been when she'd left, wild eyed and paranoid as she kept glancing over her shoulder. Once she made it inside her flat, there was no way Montague could get in without her leave. The benefits of being close friends with multiple Ministry employees. But the journey from the Weasley's shop to the flat…
"What did he do to you!" Ange shrieked, lunging to her feet, wand out. There were all still there. Katie would feel more warm and fuzzy about that fact if her friends hadn't been chugging down beers and glasses of wine, Hermione sipping daintily from an enormous margarita with a tiny umbrella in it. They were playing loud games and cheering or booing when Oliver won a point, depending on their affiliation, and pounding down pizza. It seemed her torment with Montague and their insistence on supporting her in her quest to take him down had become a party behind her back. Katie tried not to be jealous, and almost succeeded.
"I'll kill him!" Ron said, leaping to his feet.
"No, you hold him down and I'll kill him," George said, also leaping to his feet.
"I want a turn punching him," Oliver said.
"I'll stab him with a stiletto," Alicia insisted.
"No one is stabbing anyone," Katie said, tottering in. She supposed it did look suspicious. She had the dirt streak, and half her dress was gone, so were her borrowed jewels, her hair and makeup was messed up, and she assumed her facial expression was particularly crazed at the moment, "nothing happened."
"Like hell," Ginny said, punching a fist into her palm, "you look like Montague has mauled you in a dark alleyway."
"Well, not in a dark alleyway…" Katie said thoughtlessly, reaching down to untie the blasted shoes Alicia had lent her. The clunking sounds of her heels falling to the rug were the only sounds, and she looked up and saw the look on everyone's faces.
"I'm joking," she lied, "I got the dirt from a floo journey, I cut the dress myself to scandalize the uptight pure-bloods there, I threw the jewels off and left them. Nothing's wrong."
She yanked some of the remaining pins from her hair with force, made to remove a strap of her dress before Ron gave a noise like a goose being stepped on, and came to her senses, booking it to her room, and the sweet, sweet release of sweatpants that made her into a fluffy lump.
"So, what happened to your hair and makeup, then?" Hermione said from her doorway, arms crossed.
The girls crowded behind her, their expression so different Katie had to laugh. Alicia was practically dancing with glee. Angelina was an angry grandmum. Ginny still looked ready to shove her broom up Montague's arse. And Hermione…Hermione looked like she had a plan. As long as that plan didn't involve badges for an organization called M.O.M, aka Murder off Montague, Katie was perhaps intrigued in what that big diabolical brain could do.
"I snogged him," Katie admitted, "happy?" As Alicia was giggling and dancing in place, Ginny was fondling her wand and chewing on her own cheeks, and Ange was shaking her head with her eyes closed, it was a useless question.
"And?" Hermione prompted when it became clear Katie was unwilling to talk as she pulled on her precious jumper.
"And I've got ice cream!" Harry said from behind the girls, the giant bowl of frozen heart attack in his hand. "I think you might need some."
"You think right," Katie said gratefully, accepting her bounty and making her way back to the sitting room. Well, she supposed she could provide more entertainment for her friends. It was what she had become best at.
And even though the loud crack that heralded the arrival of Sassy caused half the room, including Oliver, to scream, Katie hadn't even flinched. She was just surprised it had taken so long.
"Sassy is sure you is wrong," the elf said gravely, "Master Graham is most upset. Sassy is here to help!"
Katie closed her eyes even as she continued to eat ice cream. Maybe, if she couldn't see the elf and the tell-tale velvet box in her hand, she'd wake up and George would be laughing at her for the exceptionally long and vivid dream she'd had from their new line of products: romantic daydreams of your disgusting pig enemies. Of course, for that to be true, that line of potions would have to exist. Her eyes opened again, and the box was open to expose the amethyst jewels.
"Master Graham said you left these," Sassy squeaked.
"Tell Master Graham they belong to his parents, and I don't want them," Katie said shortly. Hermione glowered at her. "I mean, err...if you don't mind Sassy. Please." She took up the Hagrid sized spoon again, putting a giant glob of ice cream to her mouth. Maybe brain freeze would be helpful right around now. Anything to help her forget being ogled by Montague's various male relatives, including his own father. Anything to forget the snogging in his lap. Katie shuddered.
Sassy's purple eyes watered.
"Miss is so kind!" she squeaked, "Sassy knew Miss must be special, for Master Graham to love you so much!"
Katie spat out the ice cream, as Alicia burst into a triumphant dance and cackle once more.
"That's my favorite pillow, Katie!" Angelina whined, picking up the ice cream splattered battered pink velvet cushion.
"Yeah, good thing we can't do magic or anything to clean it," George teased, "say, Sassy, what's this about Master Graham loving Katie so much?"
"Leave her alone, George," Hermione snapped, then softened her tone remarkably, "Sassy, have you ever heard of an organization called—"
"Not now, Hermione!" Ron said hastily, stepping in front of his girlfriend like he could block the word S.P.E.W. from coming out of her mouth with his physical body.
"Master Graham loves Miss Katie so very, very much!" Sassy squeaked, "much more than Sassy was knowing is possible, for humans!"
Katie's eyes bugged out of her head. From what she could see of her mates, she wasn't the only one gone pop eyed. Then she remembered Edgar and Helena Montague, and their no doubt frigid marriage, where the Montague patriarch had probably never stopped cheating on her with a series of young witches and then she understood why Sassy was so impressed with her twisted relationship with Montague.
"So, about as much as he loves his broomstick?" George said sarcastically.
"Even more!" Sassy said, her giant eyes growing wider, "Sassy was surprised by that too, but even more then Master's broom!"
Alicia sniggered, mid triumphant dance move, and Katie knew she was thinking of Master's other broom, which Katie had still steadfastly refused to describe to her, despite her pleading.
"I thought Master couldn't fly anymore?" Katie said carefully.
"Oh, Master can still fly," Sassy assured her, "Master loves to fly! But not as much as he loves Miss Katie," she held out the jewels to Katie again. George, damn him, was looking at her with sympathy, and Katie knew why. Having the lies of Montague smacking you in the face while his house elf insisted on his deep devotion was painful.
"I don't think your other Master and Mistress want me to have that, Sassy," Katie said carefully. She could see that Hermione had pulled out a badge and was fingering it, while Ron was casually blocking her from Sassy's eye-view still.
"Oh, but they belong to Master Graham!" Sassy squeaked, "Mistress Eldreda left them to him in her will!" Sassy placed the jewels on top of Katie's sweat panted lap, beaming. "They looked so pretty on Miss! Sassy thought you was most elegant at dinner, Miss Katie!"
"I didn't see you there, Sassy," Katie said, putting down her ice cream with regret and picking up the jewels like a moth of a flame.
"Sassy told Miss! You won't see a good house elf, Miss!"
Behind Sassy, Hermione opened her mouth, her eyes a little crazed, and Ron picked up a stray leftover piece of pizza and shoved it into her mouth.
"Well, it would've been nice to see a friendly face," Katie sighed, "at least one."
"Sassy will say hello to you next time you visit, if Miss wishes," Sassy said solemnly, "even though this is bad for most elves to do, if Miss wants that it's a more important order for Sassy to follow!"
Around the pizza, Hermione choked with outrage.
"No, no, that wasn't an order," Katie said hastily, "I don't want to give you orders, Sassy! I just enjoy your company, is all." Sassy's eyes watered more.
"Miss is too kind!" Sassy squeaked, "Sassy is most excited about making your cake for your wedding!"
Katie, who had unfortunately taken another tentative bite of ice cream, blew again.
"For god's sake, Katie!" Angelina said, yanking the pillow away from her.
"Sassy would be liking to make the gown too, but Master Graham said it has to be from Paris, a Madam Barrere original! Sassy can make just as nice of a gown, but Master Graham said you must have the best!"
Katie felt that her mouth was hanging open like she was as gormless as Gregory Goyle. She turned to look at her friends, who looked just as gormless, except for Hermione, who was rage eating her slice of pizza, and Percy, who had his chin in his hand, his brilliant mind clearly whirring.
"Anyway, Miss Katie, Sassy must be going now, or else Master Edgar will have Sassy shove her hands under the carriage wheels again for not cleaning up fast enough!"
Sassy gave a little bow, the jewels twinkling in Katie's lap.
"No, wait— " Katie stared to say, trying to hand them back.
Hermione frantically wrenched her jaws open.
"Sassy, you don't have to be a slave!" she said desperately, but there was a loud crack, and the house elf was gone.
Katie looked down at her lap again as Hermione started berating Ron for blocking her from recruiting to S.P.E.W. Underneath the jewels on top of the bed of violet velvet they usually lied upon, was a piece of parchment. Katie groaned, and opened it. She had contemplated eating it again to destroy the evidence, but she had a feeling Ange would tackle her and George would pry it out of her mouth. She read it, frowning.
"Well, what's it say?" Ginny asked, then turned to Ron and Hermione, who were sniping at each other still, "oh give it a rest, you two! Honestly."
Over the fireplace, Alicia was twirling around in a circle.
"I think Sassy has vastly overstated Montague's love for me," Katie said. She handed the note over.
Ginny shook it out, frowned, and then read it aloud.
Bell,
Shame you had to run off like that, though I'll give you your retreat was the fourth most entertaining thing that's happened to me at a pure-blood function in a solid year. Numbers one to three belong to you as well, don't worry. Can you guess my most entertaining moment from tonight? I suppose you can, since you ran off like a coward after it because you knew you wanted to come with me back to my flat. Not very Gryffindor of you. Now that I've tormented you with the fresh hell of a pure-blood social, I suppose I owe you one. When is the next Gryffindor play date of horrors? I'll come along and brighten up your night with my gorgeous presence. Hope you like the jewels, they looked better on your tits then they ever looked on any Montague woman.
-G.M.
"Better on your tits?" Angelina said, gagging.
"When's the next get together?" Percy asked with a frown, "I know you've all got a DA reunion soon, and we've all got a battle reunion in June, but—"
"Alicia's birthday is in two weeks," Ginny said, "maybe we could invite him to—"
The triumphant dancing stopped.
"Over my dead body!" Alicia shrieked.
Katie had no way of knowing if Montague had kept his word and her name out of his mouth to his little mates, but either way the cat was officially out of the bag, to the wizarding world's high society. As it much as it pained her to admit it, it was probable that Montague wasn't the culprit. After all, he'd kept their dirty little secret for weeks. It wasn't his fault that Pucey had come upon them in London, or that Rita Skeeter had caught them talking after her game. But the odds were that one of Montague's terrible relatives had opened their big mouths and flapped about his new girlfriend to their friends, perhaps an enemy of his mother, who wanted to triumphantly proclaim that the Montague heir had sunk so low as to hitch his wagon to a Mudblood. And not just any Mudblood, but a Gryffindor one who was a known friend of Harry Potter. A Mudblood who did something as low as play professional Quidditch and have the audacity to be in her twenties and unmarried. Either way, Katie was finally paying for her sins.
"Bell!" Flint shouted as they knocked into each other midair as Katie clutched the Quaffle, "got to say, those legs would look a lot better wrapped around me then that scrawny bastard Montague."
Katie grit her teeth, attempting a dive to get away as the Falcons crowd screamed with excitement, but Flint, the bastard, kept pace. Flint had always been the most talented of the Slytherin players, as loathe as Katie was to admit it. He'd been the only one to make a professional Quidditch team. OR perhaps only Flint was tacky enough to play professional Quidditch instead of lounging aground in a bed of young witches and bottles of the most expensive firewhiskey. Hopefully not, because that would make her gain an ounce of respect for Flint, and that was unacceptable.
Katie switched the Quaffle to her left arm as they crashed together again, trying to steer her broom up sharply. Her weight was an advantage when making quick moves, and Flint's weight was an advantage in every other situation. She had to get away from him. For many reasons.
Eito Nakamura, the highest scorer on the Falcons, flew in from her left, and Katie banked upwards.
"I said," Flint attempted, "those legs would-"
"You're so fucking predictable, Flint," Katie seethed, not able to hold back anymore, "I knew you were going to say that to me. I had twelve galleons on it with Alicia." Flint kept up with her as they banked upwards. A Bludger rocketed to them and they both ducked in unison.
"You should see me naked," Flint said to her, grinning with his terrible teeth, "you'll be a lot more impressed then what you've got with Montague. I promise."
"Spend a lot of time eyeing Montague in the locker room, Flint?" Katie volleyed.
She assumed Flint had been making a penis euphemism, but it was possible he was just referring to his muscle mass. It was true Flint was well known for having an absurd amount of abs. Jones had hung up a ridiculous life size poster of Flint in the Harpies locker-room. The Falcons had decided the witches were clamoring to buy a calendar of their all male players mostly naked, but they had thought wrong. Jones had received three as gag gifts, and blown up every month's photo to poster sized, hanging them around the room for dart practice. Flint, who had posed with a Quaffle strategically over his little broomstick, was currently pin cushioned with the most darts of all the Falcon players, but alas, it had made Katie far too familiar with his body. She hadn't even known a human could have that many ab muscles.
Flint grinned, knocking into her again. She could feel his giant leg muscles flexing under his uniform as he tried to knock her into an incoming Bludger, and Katie ducked again as the crowd screamed and howled. The Falcon fans were notorious for hating the Harpies above all teams and were out for blood.
"I know how you all ogle me in your locker room," he said, "got a big poster of me you all snog before matches, eh? Pretend you can get a taste of me for good luck?"
"Flint," Katie said, "if I wanted a taste of you, all I would have to do is offer and you'd rip your uniform off in one second. Don't act like it would be hard."
On her left, Nakamura laughed. "Oh, I think it's hard for you, Bell,' he quipped while Flint turned red.
"Piss off, goal hogger," Flint snarled, "let me get the Quaffle for once."
The both knocked into Katie and she yelped but held on.
"Then take it," Nakamura taunted, "and maybe one day you'll get paid as much as me."
Flint snarled and reached for the Quaffle at the same time Nakamura did and Katie was suddenly the meat in a sandwich of angry bread testosterone. Below her, she could see Ginny flying. Maybe she could risk dropping the Quaffle to her…?
She yelped as they both slammed into her again in unison, crunching her between their brooms, and she heard a crack before she felt it.
"You broke my broom," she said in a daze, as Nakamura seized the Quaffle and flew off in the other direction, the crowd howling, Ginny on his heels, Flint cursing.
"Ride mine," Flint said, curtly, but it was clear his heart wasn't in it, and he was still mad that Nakamura was going to score yet again. The crowd screamed in a frenzy as he scored.
Katie looked down, surprised that the broom hadn't broken in half and she wasn't falling, and that's when she saw her right leg. Flint, for some reason, was still flying next to her.
"You broke my leg," Katie whispered.
"What?" Flint snapped.
"You...you broke my leg," Katie said, voice trembling, staring at her tan Quidditch uniform pants. There shouldn't be any white on them, but there was. There shouldn't be a bone sticking out of her leg, either, but there it was as well.
"Oh, stop whining," Flint snapped, and then he looked at her leg too. "Merlin's balls, Bell!"
The crowd screamed, but through the roaring in her ears, the sharp stabbing pain that was finally hitting her nervous system, it sounded like the baying of demons.
"Bell!" Flint said, alarmed, and that was odd that he sounded like he was worried, and then Katie tilted, and she saw the sky, felt herself slide off her broom into the air. The crowed howled.
When she opened her eyes, she was in a dark room, the faint lights from a window coming into the room. It was only her incident with the cursed necklace that made her recognize, immediately, where she was. She sat bolt upright, trying to lunge out of the bed, but her leg didn't work right, and she fell with a tiny scream.
The boy who'd been asleep in the chair next to her bed sat upright with a yelp, jumping to his feet, wand out.
"Montague, can you help me up?" Katie said hoarsely as she sweated onto the floor of St Mungo's.
"Katie, it's Harry," the dark shape said, "Harry Potter."
"You didn't have to add the Potter," Katie groused into the floor, but Harry's hands were around her, lifting her up gently, "everyone knows which Harry you mean."
"Not for long," Harry grunted, laying her down in the bed again, tucking her in, pushing a hank of her blonde hair behind her ear like she was his child. It was oddly touching,
"I get three owls a month about some new baby being named Harry," he added, lighting her lamp by the bed. "There's going to be three houses full of Harry's at Hogwarts in around ten years. Not in Slytherin, of course."
Katie snickered. She tried to lift her hand for the glass of water by her bed but found she was too weak. Harry handed her the glass.
"So, Ginny's not giving birth to Harry Junior in a few years?" She jested.
Harry shuddered. "The name's cursed enough as it is," he said.
Katie lifted the glass and spilled some water on herself when her hand trembled.
"What's wrong with me?" she said, "why am I so weak from a broken leg?"
"I mean broken is an understatement," Harry said, "but I suppose your fatigue is...because of the baby."
Katie sputtered as water went in her lungs.
"The...what?"
"Oh, they did a scan on you when you came in," Harry said casually, "and they found-"
Katie screeched in incomprehensible horror but then Harry cracked and started giggling, and she tried to throw her water at him. She missed, soaking the front of her hospital gown instead.
"Great," Katie said, "now you're getting a wet t-shirt contest."
"That's why I joined the squad," Harry said, cheerfully, "for all these perks." he waved his wand and Katie felt herself dry off.
"Where is everyone?" Katie asked, praying that Harry would continue to be generous and pretend that he hadn't heard her call him Montague. Why had she thought he was Montague, for god's sake? What the hell was wrong with her? Like Montague would debase himself by parking his patrician arse in a hospital chair for hours.
"The Kestrels are playing the Wasps," Harry reminded her, and Katie remembered that Alicia and Ange's teams were playing each other in one of the annual awkward matches where all of their friends attended and cheered equally for each team, "the match is going long. O'Toole and Williams can't find the snitch."
"Ah," Katie said wearily. Part of her was glad she wasn't at the flat this night. It normally was fine that they all played in the league for opposing teams, but a few times a year it got supremely uncomfortable.
"Hermione's probably feverishly working a button maker somewhere," Harry went on, "you got her all riled up about S.P.E.W. again, Ron said thanks for that by the way, and Percy's probably writing more reports on cauldron bottoms." He snickered.
"What?" Katie said blankly.
"Never mind," Harry coughed, "Ginny's off partying, the Harpies won after you passed out, Hellman scored a few times, sorry, and then Smathers caught the snitch."
Katie groaned, imagining the lecture from Jones about how her love life was ruining her game.
"As for your dedicated and totally honest Slytherin boyfriend, I believe he threw a fit in the waiting room and got escorted out by the hospital security because he wasn't allowed in to see you."
"You...believe?" Katie said, disbelieving.
"Well okay I saw it," Harry said, "and I laughed a bit, I won't lie. He almost threw a punch at Flint."
"At Flint?" Katie said, even more confused. Her leg throbbed out of nowhere, but she was too terrified to look at it. The way the bone had stuck out!
"Err," said Harry, and he had the most peculiar expression, like he wanted to laugh and wince at the same time, "well...Flint caught you after you fell off your broom. It was...err…." The way he was avoiding looking in her eyes was ominous.
"What?" Katie said, "what?"
"I mean...he was kind of cradling you in his arms," Harry said, lips twitching, "you know, Rita never said who your, er. Mysterious new lover was."
Katie's mouth dropped open. no. Harry couldn't possibly be saying what she thought he was saying.
"Well," Harry went on, "seems she got the idea that er. You know."
"No," Katie said, but Harry misunderstood that denial.
"What I mean is," Harry clarified, "is that Rita didn't say it was Montague, right, , and then when Flint caught you...and you have to understand, that was odd, after that public slap, right, and the way he caught you, well it looked like—I mean it's a better story-"
"No!" Katie all but howled.
"I believe in ripping off plasters," Harry said grimly, although he had been doing the opposite for some time. He reached inside his Auror robes and slapped a Daily Prophet folded over to the sports section on Katie's bed.
She didn't even have to pick it up to see the headline.
It was somehow worse than what Harry had described. The angle the camera had on them accentuated Flint's muscly body, and Katie looked like she was swooning into his arms like they were reenacting a Harlequin romance novel cover.
"Thank god he wasn't shirtless," Katie muttered.
"Er, what?"
"Never mind," Katie said, picking it up to read the damning headline. God, Flint looked like he was leaning in to kiss her after he caught her!
Star Chasers Romance Exposed?
The romantic partner of Katie Bell, first string chaser for the Holyhead Harpies, has been rumored the last few weeks to be behind her improved performance on the pitch, writes Rita Skeeter, special correspondent, and the kneazle has been let out the bag at the Falcons Harpies match-up on-
Katie flung the paper aside, flopped dramatically back onto her pillows, and wrapped her head with her arms. If she couldn't see the world, maybe none of this had happened.
Harry, bless him, let her wallow in silence for some time.
"Why did Montague almost punch Flint?" she asked finally, "and while I'm at it, why was Flint even at the hospital? Why was Montague?"
"You seemed to expect Montague to be here," Harry pointed out.
"That was the potions talking," Katie said. She hadn't even known what they'd pushed down her throat while she'd been out, but surely that was to blame?
Harry gave a polite little cough that was clearly him covering up a laugh.
"Not sure what instigated the punch,' he admitted, "but I believe Flint is gloating all over the hospital about your injury and how he saved you."
"He's a real hero," Katie said sourly, "tell me, Harry, now that you've passed your last exams and are a fully certified Auror, can you access the classified records?"
Harry coughed again. "Yes," he said, "why?"
"Was my hero Flint ever a Death Eater? there were rumors, you know."
"Not to my knowledge," Harry said, and Katie lowered her arms to look at him, "though, that doesn't mean he wasn't, and didn't get caught. I'm sure we never found them all. You know a lot of them when they saw the tide turning, the centaurs and the house elves and all, they turned and ran? Apparated away?"
"I know," Katie said, "that's why I..."
"As far as I know Montague wasn't either," Harry said, correctly guessing what she was really asking. "But, again, that doesn't mean-"
"I know," Katie repeated firmly.
"If I hear anything, I'll let you know, "Harry said, "you know I'd never let you date a Death Eater."
"Thanks," Katie said gratefully, "but we're not dating anyway. Not really."
"Mmmm," Harry said.
"It's an act!" Katie said, "you know it's an act!"
"It's okay if it's not," Harry said quietly, and Katie felt her chest tighten.
"Did you know the hat tried to put me in Slytherin?" Harry asked after a long moment of silence.
"No," Katie said, shocked, "did it really?"
"Yeah," Harry said, "I've only told a few people that. It said I would do well. But I begged it not to, so it put me in Gryffindor."
"Why are you telling me this?" Katie asked.
"I think you know," Harry replied.
"The hat considered putting me in Hufflepuff for a moment," Katie quipped, "not Ravenclaw. That wasn't an option, with a brain like mine."
"I'm just saying," Harry shrugged, "All this inter-house prejudice is kind of silly, don't you think?"
"I...no," Katie said honestly, "Pansy Parkinson tried to hand you to You-Know-Who, Harry. Crabbe almost killed you and Hermione. Malfoy almost killed me."
"Peter Pettigrew murdered my parents," Harry said, "not with his own hand, but he did it. Gilderoy Lockhart left Ginny to die and tried to wipe mine and Ron's memories and he was in Ravenclaw. Zacharias Smith fled like a coward the night of the battle. Not as big of a deal, no, but..."
"I know what you're saying," Katie said heavily. She picked up the paper again and read how Marcus goddamn Flint was her alleged sexy bad boy boyfriend who was fully responsible for her playing well.
"Didn't he call me ugly in that last Rita article?" Katie demanded, "and the league's broom? so how is he my boyfriend now?"
"You know Rita," Harry said, "she's not known for consistency. And her readers don't notice, or they don't care. Listen, aside from being a bit of a git during games and that time he tried to take points, I haven't heard anything that horrible about Montague. I know Oliver and George hate him, and Ginny and Ron and Angelina, but-"
"I don't want to talk about it," Katie said flatly. She wanted to tell Harry about the bet but saying out loud that Montague had asked how Mudblood tasted to the twins to Harry Potter felt wrong, like she was corrupting her own little brother by teaching him about sex too young.
"Okay," Harry said after a moment, and she had the insane urge to hug him for understanding. Knowing her luck, Rita Skeeter would pop out from under her bed with her photographer and catch them mid hug and the next headline would be about her affair with The Boy-Who-Lived. If she was lucky, Ginny's disemboweling spell would be over fast. "Whatever you need, Katie. I just want you to know that I'm not judging. I just…"
"Yes?" Katie said, expecting a judgment.
"I just want you to be happy," Harry said finally.
Katie's throat constricted unexpectedly.
"I am happy," she managed to get out.
"Are you?" Harry asked, "are you really?"
There was a flash of lights in Katie's mind, the terror pounding in her throat as Selwyn had almost killed her and then George. She saw Colin Creevey's body, the boy who had once given her a flower on Valentine's day, bold as brass, even though he had been fourteen and Katie sixteen, with a cheeky grin. She hazily saw Madam Rosmerta with a wand in a bathroom stall.
"Are you?" Katie retorted.
"Happy enough," Harry said, "as happy as someone like me can be."
"That's good," Katie said, lowering her eyes to the blasted article again. Picture Katie swooned as Flint's bicep rippled.
"Maybe Montague could make you happy," Harry said.
"Maybe castrating him would make me happy," Katie said, without much heat.
"Well," Harry said, "whatever floats your boat, Katie."
When she woke up the next morning, still confused on where she was, she was hit in the face by a room full of flowers, cards, balloons, and candy.
Percy Weasley was sleeping, open mouthed, in a chair.
This time, with the dim light of morning, Katie had the courage to lift the blanket, pull up her nightgown, and gaze at her broken leg.
Relief flooded her. It was like it had never happened. Even though she'd known about magic for over ten years now, it never ceased to amaze her. She stretched her knee, still mesmerized by the smooth stretch of skin above her knee that should have a bone poking through. Something cracked, and Katie shrieked. Percy jolted awake at once, lunged to his feet, his wand out so fast she hadn't even seen it drawn, spinning midair in a circle.
"Where is he? Where is he?" Percy demanded, wand aloft.
The door burst open, and a Healer came inside, her wand also raised.
"Sorry, my leg cracked," Katie said hastily, though that only made the Healer looked more alarmed, "I mean...it made a cracking noise. It's not injured. It startled me. I didn't mean to scream."
The Healer batted aside a seven-foot potted lemon tree. Percy lowered his wand, looking embarrassed.
"I didn't intend to fall asleep," he said, "Harry told me to watch you, he had to go out to—well never mind. Auror stuff. But I haven't slept much in days, important reports to write, you know."
"Cauldron bottoms," Katie muttered.
"Yes, how did you know?" Percy said, but he looked gratified.
"Er, Harry," Katie said.
"I can imagine how waking up in here would startle anyone," the Healer said, gesturing around at a bouquet made of candy, cupcakes, and neon rainbow powdered popcorn,
"I see you have some admirers, Miss Bell."
"Oh, you know," Katie said, turning red, for the lemon tree had a card with familiar handwriting on it, "professional Quidditch player. It goes with the territory." When she looked to her left, so many orchids were visible her eyes crossed.
"We had your Captain in her last year for a broken wrist," the Healer said, bending over Katie and running a diagnostic spell over her healed leg, "most popular female player in the league fifteen years running now. She had about half of this." Her eyebrow cocked.
"It's not from Flint," Katie said hastily, "I swear."
"Well, now I don't have to check your brain for any trauma," the Healer said, and Katie laughed nervously, her eyes darting to Percy, who if he'd been any of his three younger siblings, would have audibly begged to differ.
"Actually," Percy said, "maybe you should."
"Hey," Katie said.
"She touched a cursed necklace in her seventh year," Percy continued, "it gave her some trauma to her memory."
"Yes, thank you, Mr. Weasley, I can read a patient's history in their chart," the Healer said mildly.
Katie wanted to be outraged at Percy, but her mind seized on the idea at once.
"Actually, could you check me?" she asked, "I've been worried about it myself, lately."
"Have you been forgetting things?" the Healer said, raising her wand to Katie' s temple.
"No," Katie said, unless of course, you counted reason and good sense.
"Have you been experiencing headaches, or a spinning sensation?"
"No," Katie said, "but I've…been…a bit reckless."
"Reckless how?" the Healer asked.
"Well, the thing is," Katie said uncomfortably, "there's this boy, you see."
It turned out the Kestrels had beaten the Wasps after the longest league match on record in the past twelve years. It had still been going on while Katie was getting checked for neurological damage. It was a great victory, and Alicia was being gracious in defeat, reminding everyone she wasn't even a first string player so it barely mattered to her to lose, but Ange still left the partying to her team and joined Alicia and Katie for brunch instead.
"Katie's just gotten out of the hospital," Ange said, picking up a chocolate croissant, "this is more important."
"She desperately needs our support," Alicia said solemnly, as if Katie weren't even there.
"My leg's fine," Katie protested, though it was still making cracking noises form the new bone growth, which Healer Wallaby had assured her was normal and would stop after a few days.
"You've also been accused of sleeping with Flint," Alicia pointed out, spearing a strawberry and adding it to a bite of pancake.
"There's a picture and everything," Ange nodded, lips twitching.
"You're right," Katie said, "it's a travesty."
The other girls nodded solemnly. Everyone thinking you were shagging Graham Montague was bad enough. Everyone thinking you were shagging Flint was grounds for flinging yourself from the Astronomy tower.
Edith the waitress spotted them across the restaurant, her face splitting into a grin.
"Oh good," Alicia said, perking up, "our Muggle friend is here. We can fill her in, get her opinion."
"Speaking of Muggle friends," Ange said, "how are yours taking the news about Montague, Katie?"
"Er," Katie said, sliding her gaze to her fried potatoes. If truth be told, she saw her Muggle friends rarely. It was so draining on her. Because it had been her world once, her friends, her life. And now it wasn't, and never could be. She could never go back to being Katie Bell, the skinny long-legged girl who loved science class and playing football at recess with the boys. Not when she knew this other world existed. And while it was fun to get away once in a while, to pretend, to put on Muggle clothes and not worry about her skirts and dresses being too short and revealing, or that she was wearing too much red lipstick, to not have an article written about her every action, it was too sad as well. The freedom she felt with her Muggle friends wasn't real. It couldn't ever be her life. So, the exquisite joy and agony she always felt was too much. Ruby had called her the other day, inviting her out, asking if she'd gone out with the Muggle bartender, asking if she'd punched Montague on the way to the hospital for them all. And she'd lied about it all.
"Girls!" Edith squealed, "I've missed you!"
"We've missed you," Alicia said, "and wait till you hear what's happened!"
They told her the whole story in between breaks as she rushed to her other tables, and when they were finished she looked thoughtful.
"How much of it was from him?" she asked Katie. "The rich wanker."
"Most of it," Katie admitted glumly. The Healer had left, told her she could discharge, and Percy had helped her collect the items, leaving all the flowers in the room with a volunteer wizard with strict instructions to disperse them among other hospital patients. They had fastidiously collected all notes, cards, and evidence and now there was a giant pile in their flat of notes that got increasingly crude from Montague. Seemed he was taking the fact that she hadn't sent him tickets again rather poorly. He'd come to the match anyway, of course, along with Pucey and Warrington, of all people. She though he hated Warrington as much as Katie did, but there Warrington had been, his sloth face smirking at her. Well, the cat was out of the bag, wasn't it? Montague's family must have spread the tale of her snogging Montague far and wide, and Warrington was now getting in on the action. More the fool was he. If he wanted to get with Angelina, he should've gone to her match to cheer her on and get punched in the face by George. Add to that the fact that Flint had caught her in his arms midair and Montague had been denied access to her hospital room and he was rather tetchy at the moment. But then again, when wasn't he?
"Well, you won't catch me feeling sorry for you," Edith said, "sure he's a bit of an arrogant arse-"
"A bit?" the three Chasers chorused.
"Sure, he's in love with himself, smug, crude-"
"Obnoxious, entitled, not even that cute," Angelina continued.
"He's pretty cute now," Alicia mumbled, and Katie and Angelina glared at her. "What? Him being cute at least explains the shagging, Katie!"
"But," Edith continued, "he's rich, he's a good shag-"
Angelina groaned.
"He's a good shag?" Alicia said avidly, "Katie, when did you tell her that?"
"She didn't," Edith shrugged, "but...it's obvious, isn't it?"
"Er," Katie said, her face burning like a candle. If Montague had been a bad shag, that would've made everything okay. Sure, she would've banged an arrogant member of the
Slytherin Quidditch team for no reward, and all the punishment, but at least then it would've happened once, for two minutes, and she would've fled his apartment with her knickers in tow, and she could push the idiot out of her mind. But unfortunately, Montague had not only been a good shag…he'd been a spectacular shag.
"He was good?" Alicia squealed, correctly reading Katie's expression, "why didn't you mention that part?"
Angelina was fanning herself with a menu with one hand and chugging a mimosa with the other.
"Um," Katie choked, picking up her own mimosa glass and swallowing half the glass's contents.
"A good lay and he's rich," Edith continued, "and generous, and he seems like he's half in love with you-"
Katie spat out her mimosa onto the table. The other women stared at the puddle of orange juice champagne, and spittle.
"That still isn't as gross as the thought of Graham Montague being a good fuck," Angelina said grimly, picking up their pitcher of mimosa and pouring herself a fresh glass, then Katie.
"He's not in love with me," Katie protested, shuddering.
"Uh huh," Edith said, "not yet, anyway. I said half-way, didn't I?"
"No ways," Katie said firmly.
"I need confirmation that Montague is good in the sack," Alicia demanded, while Ange moaned, rubbing her forehead.
"What about the jewels?" Edith asked.
"He did it to annoy his parents," Katie said at once. She'd wondered that herself, but then it had been so obvious once she thought about it.
"Like, what is your definition of a good shag?" Alicia asked, "I know you haven't had much experience, Katie, so perhaps you don't quite know when a guy is good? We're going to need details, to be sure."
"Please," Ange groaned, "please Alicia. I beg you."
"What about all the flowers, and the other gifts?" Edith persisted, "the expensive knickers and bras, for one."
"His daddy has got a lot of money," Katie shrugged. This point was easier. "I don't think spending it means much to him. Also, I think he gets a thrill out of blowing his father's money on a Mu—on a poor girl. I think he's rebelling like he's sixteen or something."
"Like, does good in bed to you, mean he didn't cry afterwards?" Alicia mused, "or does it mean he lasted five whole minutes? What am I working with here, Katie?"
"No," Ange moaned, "I don't want to know. Have some mercy, Alicia."
There had been another twelve howlers this morning at their flat. Six had been for Katie, yes, but the other six had been for Angelina, chastising her for dating her dead heroic boyfriend's twin. Rita, of course, had written not only a colorful article about Katie's man being the toothily handsome and muscle bound bad boy of Quidditch, Marcus Flint, but had pulled double duty writing about the Kenmore Kestrel's win and their sole female first string player, the fickle hearted Angelina Johnson.
"Okay, but what about inviting you to meet his parents?" Edith demanded, "That sounds like a boy who wants to show you off to his family."
That was even easier.
"No," Katie said confidently, "I told you, he's going through a very late teen rebellious phase. He hates hanging around with his parents. He asked me to come so I could piss them off and he'd find that entertaining."
"Or did he Polyjuice himself into someone sexier?" Alicia mused, then she darted a look at Edith, "I mean…dressed up as someone else? Is that why he was good, Katie? He wasn't even himself?"
"Like who?" Ange demanded, "who the bloody hell would he turn himself into?"
"I dunno," Alicia said, "Oliver, maybe?"
"Oliver?"
"He's got to be good," Alicia said, and Angelina's mouth dropped. "Don't you think? Don't tell me I'm the only one who's thought about this!"
"You are," Ange assured her.
"He's just so dedicated to everything," Alicia said, "one could say, obsessed. I'm sure he's obsessed with being good in bed."
"Why don't you find out, Alicia?" Ange said, shuddering.
Alicia got a faraway look in her eye.
"I was joking!" Ange said loudly.
"And you said he's been coming to your football matches, too, "Edith said, "That sounds like a bloke who's invested in you. By the way, which football team do you play for? My mate Amanda is on the Rovers."
"Oh, just a club for fun," Katie said, hastily changing the subject. "As for that, I think he just likes tormenting me. It throws me off my game to see him there."
She had been expecting him to show up against the Falcons, and he had, and it had still made her fly so badly when she spotted him for the first time that Flint had told her to practicing riding something other than Montague for once when he flew by.
"I'm just saying," Alicia said, "I'm starting to believe Katie's sad little exploits with whatshisname, the bloke from a few years ago, the one with the neck mole, has led her to believe that anyone who is vaguely decent in bed is a-"
"He went down on me multiple times," Katie snapped at last, nettled at Alicia's condescending view of her limited sex life, "then we fucked repeatedly. He made me come each time. There. Happy?"
Alicia's mouth dropped.
"I knew it," Edith said triumphantly.
Ange gave a whine like a puppy being kicked, chugged her mimosa, and poured a third, her eyes crossing briefly.
"I could've gone my whole life without knowing Alicia is now having sexual fantasies about Oliver and that Graham Montague, selfish wretched spoiled arsehole, actually knows how to please a woman," she said, closing her eyes briefly, before starting to gulp again. Alicia grabbed the glass.
"I need you to be coherent, Ange," she warned, "I can't be the only one sober hearing this mess."
"It's your own fault," Katie snarled.
"This is something you should've confided to Ginny," Ange said, holding the mimosa glass to her forehead like an ice pack, "she at least doesn't have seven years of classes and memories with that stupid bastard to torment her."
"Ginny fucks Harry," Alicia snorted, "like she knows what a guy is like in bed that's competent."
"Oh noooo," Ange wailed, "don't make me think about Harry fucking!"
All three of them gave a full body shudder. It was almost impossible to think of Harry as a sexual being when he was forever a scrawny eleven-year-old boy with taped owlish glasses in their minds.
"Hermione then," Katie said, "maybe I should've told Hermione."
"She fucks Ron," Ange said, aghast, and they shuddered again.
"Do you think she sings Weasley is our King when they do it?" Alicia mused. "But she changes the "our" to "my" of course."
"Alicia, I am warning you!" Ange yelped.
"He tried to visit you at the hospital," Edith said, sighing, as if that were romantic, "you can't argue your way out that one, missy."
Katie opened her mouth, then closed it. That one had thrown her too. Of course he'd sent her tons of presents. She doubted that took him more than thirty seconds. All he had to do was summon Sassy, dictate she buy Katie presents...then spend an hour writing her notes. Okay that last part was strange. Maybe the handwriting wasn't Montague's all along, and had always been Sassy?
"He was mad about Flint," she said at last, "he was...jealous he wasn't the one getting credit for sleeping with me."
Edith cocked an eyebrow at her.
"I know what you're thinking," Katie said defensively, "but jealous boys are stupid. I hate that sort of nonsense. It's all about possession, their egos."
"That sounds like our boy," Alicia nodded.
"Jealousy isn't romantic," Katie persisted, because Edith still didn't look convinced. "It's about what you think you own. Not about you, not really. And who is convinced he owns someone more than a spoiled rich boy?"
"He seems a normal amount of jealous," Edith said, "in my opinion. Or close to it, anyway. A boy who is toxic about that sort of thing would've gotten madder about you snogging that cute bartender right in front of him."
"Oh, he was mad about that," Katie assured her. She wondered how Montague would take the news about her little coffee date, even though it had ended in a whimper, and not the fun kind. What else would you call the realization that you found Montague far more entertaining than a nice cute bloke who your friends would actually like if you dated him? The end of the world?
"Still," Edith shrugged, "I think this boy really likes you."
"No he doesn't," the three girls said in unison.
"You're being blinded by the past," Edith said, "I get it. He was a twit one time."
"One MILLION times," Angelina said, and against her will, Katie remembered her conversation with Harry in the hospital, and how he'd insisted Montague wasn't so bad, not really.
"So, invite him to Alicia's party," Edith shrugged, "and see if he's really changed or not. If he has, great. If he hasn't, enjoy the shagging you got and move on."
"You're so wise," Alicia said, "have you thought about being a tree-a-pist?"
"Therapist," Katie hissed.
"Yeah," Alicia said, helpfully drinking more mimosa to cover her mistake, "that."
"I'm in uni for psychology," Edith said, "I'm using my wages her to pay—" the manager was waving at her again. "Oh, bollocks, I've got to go!"
"Are you mad?" Katie said to Alicia, "or were you humoring her?"
"What?" Alicia said, "I think it's a great idea."
"He's going to ruin your birthday," Ange warned.
"Impossible," Alicia said, "even if he's a wanker—"
"When he's a wanker," Katie muttered.
"When he's a wanker, George will punch him in the face, and yay! Bonus present for me!"
"True," Ange said.
"Now hang on," Katie said, alarmed, "this is a terrible idea! We all agreed it's a terrible idea, when Percy said it!"
"Maybe he'll bring me some jewels for my birthday," Alicia said enthusiastically.
"Maybe George will break his nose," Ange said dreamily.
"You two are supposed to be on my side here," Katie said, voice squeaking in fear.
"Rubies would go great with my skin," Alicia mused, turning her golden-brown skin this way and that in the sunshine.
"Maybe George will break his face," Ange said, smiling.
Katie groaned, her head thunking to the table. Alas, she had forgotten the spat mimosa, and her cheek slowly soaked in the pool of alcohol, orange juice, and her own spittle.
"It's a metaphor for my life," she mumbled, as over her head Alicia and Ange waxed rhapsodic on the benefits of Graham Montague coming to her birthday, "regurgitated alcohol."
"Don't forget the warm body fluids," Alicia said.
"Okay," Katie said as the door to Quality Quidditch supplies swung shut behind her, a bag dangling off of her arm, "now you're officially stalking me."
Montague raised his eyebrows. "I was getting a new glove set," he said, "I do have my own life, Bell."
He was wearing Muggle clothes still. People walking by were looking at him askance, or perhaps they were looking at Katie Bell, heroine of the Battle of Hogwarts, mediocre Harpies player, and Harry Potter's friend or perhaps former lover, if you believed Rita Skeeter.
"Thought you didn't play anymore," Katie pounced, "or was that a lie?" She knew it was a lie. She just needed Montague to finally admit it.
"For Cassius," Montague elaborated, "It's his birthday soon."
"Well don't expect me to go to his birthday party," Katie said waspishly, and Montague's eyebrows raised further. She had given in and sent him an owl, telling him she was perfectly fine and that her leg had healed well, with a half sentence invitation to Alicia's upcoming birthday party. He'd responded right away with a yes and Katie had died a little further inside. Or perhaps it was the Howler from Flint's mother and the other from his long-time fiancé that had felt like her innards were being yanked. They had taken the Rita article about as well as Katie had.
"But I don't even want him!" Katie had wailed uselessly back at the Howler, hands over ears, as the owls blinked at her in judgment, "You can have him!"
"My brothers will be there," Montague said, "and cousin Mortimis, the one who kept looking at you like you were a roasted quail, so I assumed you'd rather snog an acromantula then attend. Are you mad I didn't invite you?"
"No," Katie snapped.
"Are you mad I haven't seen you since you broke your leg?" Montague asked, as a pair of young witches spotted them and started whispering behind their hands. "I tried to offer to come by, you know, but I suspect you didn't even read my owls."
"I didn't," Katie snarled, "I threw the letters into the fireplace."
"I figured showing up at your flat would be creepy," Montague shrugged, "but I guess I should've come by. You seem mad."
"I'm not mad," Katie said angrily.
"Clearly," Montague quipped, "and might I ask what you are doing here? Aren't the Harpies buying all of your gear for you?"
"None of your business," Katie said rudely.
"Do you need a new broom?" Montague asked, "I saw yours got damaged when Flint caught you." He grimaced, clearly remembering the swooning photo. Katie grimaced as well. "I can buy you one. You could've asked."
"So, I'm curious," Katie said, "do you solve all of your problems with money?"
"Wow," Montague blinked, "I see you are determined to do your best pure-blood wife impression today, Bell."
"Like a pure-blood wife would complain about you spending money," Katie said, indignant. "And while I'm at it, I'm not your wife!"
"I was referring to the shrill nagging," Montague said, "the paranoid accusations. The determination to insult me at every turn."
"Thought that last got your juices flowing, Montague," Katie shot back.
He half-smiled. "that they are," he said, "better not let Flint see me talking to you with my juices flowing and all."
"Oh, so you're jealous, now?" Katie said, "cute. Except I hate that sort of nonsense."
"You'll have to work on that," Montague said, "If you insist on acting like a pure-blood wife. They thrive on making their husbands jealous. Mainly because they can't, most of the time."
"I told you," Katie said, "I have no intention of being your wife, Montague. You'd get disowned, for one."
"That's your only objection?" Montague smirked, "why Bell, I'd almost say you were waiting for a proposal."
All this talk of marriage and proposals with Montague was making her teeth itch.
"I'd rather marry Flint," she lied coldly.
"Pathetic attempt at riling me up," Montague said, "as I know you loathe Fling with all of your being, as a person with all of their mental capabilities should."
There was another group of teenagers lingering, and Katie saw one of them point at her.
"Let's go somewhere," she said, "now." Why she didn't just leave without him, Katie would ponder later on, and why Montague obeyed her at once, even though he'd claimed to need gloves for Warrington was another mystery.
Montague put his hands in the pockets of his expensive trousers, following along beside her.
"Avoiding your groupies?" he said amiably.
"Avoiding the press," Katie corrected, "I've had enough Howlers as is. Did you know, not only did Flint's mother, and his fiancé scream at me repeatedly via owl the other day, but your Aunt Celia has sent me three Howlers since that article came out? Apparently, she's even madder I'm two-timing you with Flint. Explain that to me. I would've thought she'd be happy to be rid of me from soiling your precious family."
"I'm sure she is," Montague said as they walked rapidly down a back alley of Diagon Alley, "but she's madder you've chosen Flint, I've heard."
For some reason, Katie's brain kept thinking about Montague's comments on marriage, and engagement. Why on Earth did he keep making these cracks?
"Well, tell her not to worry, I'm not the next Mrs. Flint or Mrs. Montague," she said, then waited. Why was she baiting him like this? What was wrong with her?
"Oh I dunno," Montague said easily, "imagine how nice you'd look in one of the family tiaras. We've got about twenty for you to choose from."
Katie was horror struck. "Your family would never approve of me," she said through numb lips, "don't be silly. You're having some sort of teenage rebellion a few years late, but you won't actually like being disowned, Montague, I promise you."
Montague burst out laughing, drawing attention from a pair of ancient witches near them, who pursed their shriveled lips at their noisy display. "Your face," he choked, "god, Bell, calm down. I've only gotten you in my bed once and you think I want to get married?"
Katie's face burned.
"Scream it a little louder, Montague," she hissed, "and you got more than one sample, I seem to recall."
"That I did," he laughed, "each better than the last, if we're being honest. The first time I couldn't believe it was even happening, so that took away from the effect a bit."
Katie prayed for the cobblestones of Diagon Alley to split, swallowing her up to put her out of her misery.
"I couldn't believe it was happening any of the times," she said through her teeth, but that only made Montague laugh more.
Almost as if some higher power had heard her, her foot caught on a stone and she tripped, a cracking sound coming from her healed leg. Montague caught her before she face planted, his arms around her, and nearby a wizard cheered.
"Top marks, mate!"
"Let go," Katie said, horrified, her eyes darting around to the Alley, which was thankfully mostly empty this late in the day.
"Oh sorry," Montague said, "I forgot, you only want to fall into Flint' s manful arms." But he placed her upright and let go as Katie made a vomit sound.
"Don't be disgusting," she said, "you know he pumps three times, and then he stares at himself in a mirror and finishes."
Montague snickered. "Well, we both know you prefer my performance, eh Bell?"
"Jesus," Katie hissed, "do you ever quit?" She began power walking faster in the direction of George, and refuge from prying eyes.
"No," Montague said, as he hurried to catch up, "as you can attest, Bell. I told you, I was all ready to go the next morning, but-"
"Yes yes," she said, eyes darting around, "I know. You can't resist me." They were almost there. George would probably punch Montague and then she'd flee.
"You're hard to resist," Montague said, and then his arm was around her shoulders, "that arse alone, Bell..."
"I said get off," Katie hissed again, but then her leg took that choice moment to make another cracking sound and buckled.
"Bell, I thought you got that fixed," Montague said, alarmed.
"I did. Will you get off of me?"
Montague frowned at her, and then let go, and she almost fell over. He reached for her and stopped with a scowl when she waved him away.
"You should get that looked at," he said, "some shoddy spell work was done on you, I'd say."
"I will," Katie promised. They walked in silence for another minute as it grew darker and the lamps glowed.
"Listen, Bell, how many dates do we have to go on before I'm allowed to act like your boyfriend?" Montague said. She couldn't see his face in the twilight.
"What do you mean?" she said weakly.
"You know what I mean," Montague said.
"I thought you preferred it this way," Katie said, "I'm your dirty little rebellious secret, remember?"
"No," Montague said, "I'm your dirty little rebellious secret."
"You're the one sneaking about alone in Muggle clubs," Katie said, stung, "you're the one wearing Muggle clothes right now, in fact. You're the one who could never actually date a Gryffindor, not to mention, god forbid, a haggard ancient Mudblood who's actually fucked other guys."
"That's funny," Montague said, 'because I'm the one who's introduced you to his family, aren't I? I'm the one who came to your matches in Harpies shirts. I' m the one who's under strict orders not to talk about you to my mates."
"Only because they'd say crude things about me," Katie retorted.
"And you think I'd let them?" Montague demanded, "you think I'd let them talk about my girl like that?"
"Your girl?" Katie said, feeling warm.
"Oh let's stop playing pretend, Bell," Montague said, "it was extremely amusing at first to watch you tie yourself in knots pretending you didn't want this as much as I do, I'll grant you, but I'm getting rather tired of it now. It was funny enough when I knew it was me who was your filthy Slytherin boy you were toying with, but now that everyone's owling me, crowing about how Flint got you in bed…"
"I knew it!" Katie yelled, thanking god, Dumbledore, Merlin, and Santa that Montague hadn't seen her face after he'd called her his girl, couldn't know what she'd been feeling. "This is only bothering you because Flint is getting the credit! Because he won the bet!" She stopped in the empty alleyway that shortcut to the back of the twin's shop, crossing her arms in defense.
"Bet?" Montague said blankly, "what bet?"
"Oh, you're hilarious," Katie said, "really, so funny. Like you don't know."
"I don't know," Montague said, heatedly, "I've never heard about some bet involving you."
Katie snorted.
"I haven't, Bell! Care to enlighten me?"
"No," Katie said frostily, "because you already know."
Montague threw up his hands. The lamp nearby grew brighter as it detected the growing gloom and she saw his face in shadow.
"You're impossible, Bell," he said, "I cannot believe you're claiming the high ground here. What exactly, have I done that's so dastardly? What have I done to deserve you
treating me like this?"
Katie felt a stab of guilt, but then she remembered what Oliver and George had told her, and she saw red.
"What have you done?" she hissed, "how about, being a bully for years?"
"That was a long time ago," Montague said, "that's not fair, Katie. I was a kid."
"I was a kid, too, and I didn't bully people," Katie said indignantly.
"Alright, fine, I was a bully," Montague said, "what else?"
"You're a bully now," Katie insisted, "you were rude to my Muggle friends, and you're a snob."
"I was nice to them,' Montague insisted, "for hours. And as for being a snob, I thought you'd met some real snobs the other night."
"Yes, and good job standing up to them for me," Katie retorted, "while I got insulted for hours."
"I did stand up for you!" Montague said, "I got threatened with disownment!"
"You said that happens all the time and comes to nothing," Katie said coldly, "don't exaggerate your heroism."
"Fine, so I'm not a hero like precious Potter," Montague scoffed, "we already knew that. What else?"
"You had a bet about sleeping with me," Katie said, "stop denying it."
"I have no idea what you're talking about," Montague said, "when was this? Now? Do you mean now?"
"In school," Katie said, her jaw tight.
"Well that's a load of bollocks," Montague snorted, "and I'll tell you why. I wanted to fuck Cho Chang in school, not you."
It was ridiculous, but Katie felt a sharp pain at that. What the hell was wrong with her?
"Is that all, Bell? And by the way, who lied to you and told you that?"
"It's the truth," Katie insisted.
"You looked like a scrawny spider in school," Montague scoffed, "I told you that. In school I was fucking Candace Carodoc, a Slytherin girl a year above me, and I wanted Cho Chang. Don't get all testy about it. You wanted Terence Higgs, if I recall."
"You're friends with Death Eaters," Katie hurled, infuriated at the audacity of Montague's lies, but apparently she'd gone too far.
"I told you I'm not friends with Malfoy," Montague said, "now, apologize to me."
"No," Katie retorted, "fuck off. You're a liar."
Montague stared at her, his face twisted in a sneer.
"You know what?" he said, "You've been amusing, Bell, but really you've been a waste of time, haven't you?"
"Well you already got what you wanted from me," Katie said, "didn't you?"
"Yeah," Montague said, his face still twisted in that horrible sneer that reminded her of interacting with him at Hogwarts, "I did. Right away, too, Bell. I thought it would be harder."
She felt like dying from humiliation.
"Well, what can I say?" She shrugged, "I was bored."
Montague opened his mouth, closed it, and shook his head.
"That's it," he said, "I'm done. Your games are dull, Bell. You're not so different from a pure-blood girl, you know. Sure, you lack the breeding and the manners and the taste and the money, but you still tease and tease and tease, waiting for that ring to give it up. Except you made a mistake and gave it up right away. You'll have to change that next time for it to work."
"I don't want a ring from you," Katie said, her ears ringing, "I don't want anything from you."
"Now that's a lie," Montague scoffed, "but whatever you want from men, better make sure not to spread your legs so easily for the next guy. I didn't even have to try."
Katie slapped him as hard as she could, and he stumbled. She had sixteen insults ready, but instead, she humiliated herself.
"I thought you weren't going to let anyone talk about your girl that way?" Katie said, her eyes watering. "You bloody sexist pig!" She pulled out her wand to Apparate away, but Montague grabbed her wrist.
"Let go!" Katie said again.
"Are you crying, Bell?" Montague said, and his face had changed from that grotesque sneer, his voice low.
"No," Katie said furiously, but Montague reached up with his other hand and wiped away a tear.
"I didn't mean it," he said at once, "I'm sorry. I was lying. You're right. I just thought...Adrian said…"
"I said, let go!" Katie said, louder, now cursing that she'd gone down an empty alleyway as a shortcut.
"Adrian said you were toying with me," Montague persisted, "he kept telling me you were using me for a laugh, or a game or...I don't know. Some sort of revenge for your mates, I dunno. He told me you'd hurt me."
"So you had to say mean things to hurt me instead?" Katie said, "You know what? I don't care. Let go. Give me back my knickers, that's all I want from you. See you never."
"No," Montague said, "come on, Bell, you were being cruel too. How was I supposed to know you cared? You're hiding me from everyone, going on dates with that Muggle-"
"What?" Katie said, "no I'm not."
"Sassy saw you," Montague said regretfully, "she told me. I was hoping you would tell me."
"You had your house elf stalking me?" Katie hissed, her rage rising again. God, Montague knew how to wreak havoc with her emotions like no one had since the battle of Hogwarts.
"It was an accident," Montague insisted, "she wanted to give you a present she'd made. But you didn't tell me, and you didn't get me tickets for your matches, you didn't invite me to the after party when I know you could've taken me, it took you a month to grudgingly invite me to hang out with your mates-"
"Pucey was right," Katie said viciously, "I am toying with you."
Montague had let go of her wrist some moments before, but she didn't trust herself to Apparate in this state. Or so she told herself.
"No, you're not," Montague said, his eyes searching her face, "then why are you crying?"
"Being in your presence is upsetting," Katie tried, but that only made Montague smile.
"You're right, I did tell you a lie about something," he said.
"Shocker," Katie muttered, waiting for the truth about the bet to finally be confessed, but Montague surprised her again.
"I didn't want Cho Chang in school," he said, hand back on her face, tracing her lips, "I wanted you."
He leaned forward and kissed her, and for a minute, Katie kissed him back. Okay, for many minutes. And maybe her mouth had opened, her tongue touching his. Maybe her arms had gone around his neck. Maybe she'd let him push her against the brick, maybe she'd dropped her bag on the ground, maybe she'd stuffed her wand away, maybe she'd gasped when he started sucking on her neck in that spot he'd discovered in his bed that she loved.
"Katie," Montague groaned against her, and triumph surged in her.
I've got you now, her heart sang.
"Don't ever talk to me like that again," she said out loud instead.
"No," Montague vowed, "I won't. Not to my girl."
Katie laughed, and he pulled back.
"What?"
"Oh, you just tickled me, is all," she said, breathless, and Montague leaned forward to kiss her again, as she bit back another laugh.
You should've listened to Pucey, Katie thought, exhilarated.
Author Note: Just to be clear I do not co-sign any of this behavior as being healthy or desirable in real life relationships, from either side, but this is fanfic trash. :)
