Chapter Eleven: Hungry, Hungry, Vampires

Katie had assumed Montague's fun at Alicia's birthday party would be equal to the fun she had had at his mother's torturous birthday diner, that he'd sulk and pout and get in fights with everyone there and leave after ten minutes. She'd assumed wrong.

"What is that Montague is doing with Dean Thomas?" Ange said, bewildered.

"They're playing football," Katie said, blinking in disbelief.

True, Montague was terrible, clearly had never touched his precious feet to a ball in his life, but Dean was instructing him, both of their t-shirts sweaty and clinging as they ran about, shoving at each other.

"That's more like him," Katie said, sipping on her lemonade as Montague pushed at Dean, but then Dean pushed back and they were both laughing uproariously, clapping each other on the back.

"What the bloody fuck?" Ange said.

"Alicia's turned on me too," Katie said gloomily, "say, do you have some vodka I can put in this?"

"No," Ange said, "but If I get some I'll let you know so we can both partake. I don't know if I can take much more of Molly right now sober."

The Weasley matriarch had insisted on holding Alicia's birthday party celebrations at the Burrow, like she'd held so many birthdays and other parties lately for the friends and partners of her children. It seemed to keep her busy and her mind off her dead son.

"She believes those Rita articles?" Katie said.

"You know it," Ange said gloomily, "she doesn't say it, but whenever George isn't around, she acts weird. And not in a way I can really tell him without coming across as an enormous bitch about his beloved mother."

"I think George would get it," Katie argued, "he loves her, of course, but he used to complain about her at school."

"At school," Ange said, even more doom in her voice, "but not since...well… you know."

"Yeah," Katie said, sighing. "Maybe we can get something from Charlie. He always seems to have alcohol."

"He's not here," Ange said, and Katie scanned all the red heads in the garden.

"Oh," she said, "so he's not. Too many gingers to tell."

"What do you mean, Alicia has turned on you?" Ange said, as they both gloomily sipped lemonade. Nearby, Hermione and Ginny were playing croquet with Susan Bones and Hannah Abbott.

"Didn't you see his present to her?" Katie said, casting about for the most likely person to have smuggled in a flask. Montague was turning her into an alcoholic, confirmed.

"You mean the bribe?" Ange snorted.

They had opened presents earlier, and while everyone had bought Alicia normal things like costume jewelry and fancy soaps and perfumes Montague had presented her with a golden necklace with a giant ruby pendant in the middle. Alicia had shrieked with joy and thrown her arms around his neck, hugging him.

"How did he know she wanted rubies, anyway?" Katie frowned. That had bothered her. That had bothered her a lot.

"A lucky guess, most like," Ange said, also drinking her lemonade like she was praying for it to be spiked with alcohol.

George was dancing on a picnic table nearby with Oliver and Alicia, who was wearing her new necklace.

"Yeah," Katie said uncertainly. She watched Montague badly kicking the ball while Dean laughed, then Seamus ran over and stole it, all three boys laughing. She twitched.

"They are Gryffindor colors, rubies," Ange said.

She followed Katie's eye line. Montague's shirt was sticking to him with sweat, another Muggle t-shirt, and she could see his muscles far too well.

"It's not really a stretch that Alicia would like that," Ange said.

"Why is he getting along with everyone?" Katie said after a moment.

"George still hates him," Ange said promptly, "so does Ginny, Ron, Oliver-"

"Mr. Weasley was nice to him,"Katie heard herself whining, "he had him sit next to him while we ate, didn't you see?"

"He was just being polite," Ange soothed, "a good host. Didn't you say he works with Montague's brother?"

"Yes," Katie said, "I suppose."

"Montague was being nice back," Ange said after a moment.

"I noticed," Katie said, her voice like that of a woman going to a funeral.

As soon as she had realized that Alicia was inviting Montague not only to the club night they'd had planned for her birthday but the pre clubbing garden party at the Burrow she'd mentally prepared for the abusive comments he'd be sure to say about the Weasleys and their home. She had warned everyone, even Mrs. Weasley, in a fireplace floo call.

"Nonsense, Katie," Mrs. Weasley had said, "I know his mother quite well. I'm sure it will be fine."

"Er," Katie had said, "and you've talked to her… recently?"

"Helena is a little cool to people she doesn't know," Mrs. Weasley had said, "but quite generous to those she cares about."

"Oh, I'm sure," Katie had lied, her heart sinking. Well. She had tried to warn her, anyway. But Montague had been the picture of decorum, bringing Mrs. Weasley a bouquet of flowers that she'd exclaimed over, complimenting her politely on her food and robes, a new sparkling set from George, even though Katie knew they were something his mother wouldn't be caught dead in, and had presented his mother's fondest greetings. And he'd spoken quite animatedly with Arthur throughout lunch, about what, Katie had no idea, as she'd been placed between Luna and Neville. But Arthur had been smiling, and Montague had been smiling, and then they'd even laughed together while the Weasley kids goggled at them.

"What do you think he's up to?" Katie said flatly, as Percy turned cartwheels next to them with Luna in the wildflowers. Katie blinked. She knew Percy wasn't the same, not at all, but occasionally she was reminded of it forcefully.

"Up to?" Ange repeated, picking at a cupcake.

"By being nice," Katie clarified, "he must have an agenda, right?"

"Maybe," Ange said, "but maybe he's really changed, Katie."

Katie watched Montague laughing and running around a minute more, sure she had misheard her friend.

"What?" she said at last, turning to Ange.

"I know," Ange said, raising her hands, "I know. I wouldn't believe it either. But this isn't the Montague I knew in school."

She pointed back at the boy in question, who was now kicking a ball back and forth with Teddy Lupin, who had toddled over. Andromeda Tonks, the only other Slytherin within probably a hundred miles of the Burrow was watching approvingly.

"You just saw him be an ass a few weeks ago," Katie said, angry, "remember? The bikini incident?"

"He was a little surly," Ange said, "but that was around Pucey. Maybe he's better when he's away from them all?"

"He's not," Katie said, remembering with a fury all the horrible things he'd said to her in Diagon Alley, about her lacking class and money and breeding, how she'd given it up right away, and then thought he was forgiven because of some mealy mouthed apology, an admission to wanting her in school. Well of course he had wanted her in school! He was a teenage boy then, and he'd had a bet on to fuck her. She'd already deduced that he used to lust after her, and he'd only made it worse by lying about not wanting her and insulting her instead. Jerk. Arse. Arrogant jealous prick.

"He basically called me a trollop not one week ago," she said, and then proceeded to tell Ange what had happened, then waited for her friend to be outraged.

"He called you Katie?" Ange said instead thoughtfully.

"Yeah, so what?" Katie said, "that's my name."

"Nothing," Ange said, "only it's...never mind."

"What?" Katie said, "what?" But Montague chose that moment to join Dean and Seamus in ripping off their sweaty shirts in the heat, flinging them to the grass.

Ange made a strange noise.

"Well," Luna said, sitting down and fanning herself as Percy came over, picking up some lemonade, "I see why you're dating him, Katie. I was worried when the papers said it was Flint, you know. I thought that demon that had possessed him that one time you slapped him jumped from his body to yours. They tend to do that, you know."

Ange's eyebrows were in her hairline as she stared at the shirtless trio of boys.

"He really did lose that beefy look he used to have," she said, chewing on her lip.

"Mmmm," Luna said, her protuberant eyes bulging as she stared at Montague without shame.

"Um," Katie said, "what's happening right now?"

Susan Bones had stopped playing croquet, her eyes following the three shirtless boys. Hannah was fanning herself just like Luna had.

"I think everyone's staring at your boyfriend," Luna said serenely, "he's rather well formed, isn't he?"

"No," Ange and Katie said together, but when Luna turned her unblinking eyes on them they both squirmed.

"Really?" she said, "I think everyone else thinks so."

Katie looked around. Even Fleur and Mrs. Weasley were surreptitiously looking at Montague!

Percy shuddered when he noticed. Thank god. At least someone still had some sense.

"You didn't say he looked that good naked," Ange mumbled.

"He's not naked," Katie said automatically.

"Well, unless he's hiding something grotesque under those trousers…" Ange said, looking disgusted with herself.

"You're all supposed to hate him," Katie burst out, "he's supposed to be being an arse right now! Why isn't he being an arse?"

Luna turned to her again, finally blinking.

"Well, Katie," she said in her sweet little voice, "sometimes people change."

Katie's head clunked on the picnic bench.


"This music is atrocious," Montague said in her ear, as Katie sipped on a martini.

Nearby, Alicia was dancing on yet another table, in the skimpiest of dresses as bass pumped so loud glasses were rattling.

"It's a club," Katie said, her eyes wandering around The Ravenous Vampire. They'd rented out the space for Alicia's birthday for some privacy, everyone chipping in twenty galleons, but it was still packed to the gills with the rest of Alicia's friends, teammates, and admirers who hadn't been invited to the garden party for her closest friends and family.

"That it is," Montague said, "I've never been here. Charming place."

The people were loud, the music was louder, and yet Katie still knew that he was being sarcastic.

"No, only Muggle clubs for you, eh?" Katie shouted back over the music, "and your fancy-boy club."

Montague snorted.

"Muggle clubs are more my scene," he agreed, "more anonymity. More people actually having fun instead of performing a show for each other."

"What do you mean?" Katie said, but the alarming part was, she knew exactly what Montague meant.

"You know what I mean," Montague said, alarming her further, "I mean, that's why you all bought out the club for tonight, isn't it? Can't have the unwashed masses mixing with the chosen ones, oh no."

"You don't understand," Katie heard herself protesting in his ear as he bent to her, which unfortunately made it so she smelled his rich boy cologne, "you don't know what it's like, trying to go anywhere, especially when there's more than one or two of us."

Life had been strange since the Battle of Hogwarts, in endless ways. But the most surprising had been the notoriety that had come with being one of the witches or wizards who'd fought in the battle on the right side. For a year afterwards there had even been a fixture in every edition of the Prophet on the activities of the various participants. There was still a section in Witch Weekly, even so many years later. Harry was the most common subject, of course, but they all featured in updates from time to time. If Katie dared to wander around in public in the wizarding world with more than just Alicia or Ange they got stopped endlessly, asked for autographs, photographs, and if you got caught with one of the golden trio, god help you. They'd all understood now a bit what it was like to be Harry...and being Harry was awful.

"You think I don't understand?" Montague said in her ear, his breath tickling her neck, "you think I don't know the pressure of everywhere you go someone recognizing you, reporting on your activities to a group of people who will gossip about everything you do?"

"It's not like being a pure-blood," Katie snapped, or she tried to, but it was hard to snap in this loud of a space.

"It's exactly like that," Montague argued, "except I guess you have more real friends then a pure-blood does. But you have just as many people after you for your fame, just like people are after me for my money."

"Well, I'm certainly after you for your money," Katie said, and Montague laughed, his arm moving around her waist, snaking under her top just a little, his thumb rubbing her bare hip. Alicia had insisted they all dress as Muggles for a lark, wizard robes weren't great for the club, and the guests had dressed with varied degrees of success. Why Katie had let herself be talked into a sequined skirt and a black halter top she had no idea. She'd insisted on combat boots though. To kick Montague in the nuts if she had to.

"I knew it," Montague said, "who isn't?" But he laughed again, and then kissed her cheek as her face burned.

Nearby, Justin Goolahay, the first-string seeker for the Kestrals spotted them and did a double take. Katie sighed. She'd already had to explain to half a dozen people who didn't know her or her friends well that she wasn't actually dating Flint, that Rita Skeeter had been making things up, and that she'd only swooned into Flint's arms because of the pain due to a broken bone. Montague, blast him, had looked more and more pleased with every rendition as he stood next to her.

"I like this outfit, Bell," Montague said in her ear, his thumb brushing her hip again, "much better than that prim little number you wore to the Weasleys'."
Katie waited for the inevitable slam on the Burrow and Molly and Arthur Weasley, but it didn't come.

"Sorry that you were the one flashing your tits about at the Burrow," she said instead, confused.

She knew Montague didn't respect the Weasleys. She knew he was a horrid snob. She knew he hated her friends. What the hell was he playing at?

"I had to impress your friends somehow," Montague said, as Luna twirled slowly in a circle nearby, and Ron and Hermione danced badly on their other side.

"Why don't you just buy them all ruby necklaces instead of getting naked?" Katie said without thinking.

Montague laughed again. "You sound jealous, Bell. That top needs a silver chain, not a ruby necklace. Maybe a string of black diamonds. But I can get you some rubies another time, I did promise."

"Stop trying to buy my affection," Katie said, exasperated, "that's not what impresses me."

"So what impresses you?" Montague asked.

"Kindness," Katie said stiffly, "good morals."

"Now don't lie, Bell," Montague said, tugging her away from the magical approximations of speakers where the music was blaring from, "I didn't get you in my bed by being kind, did I?"

"No," Katie said through her teeth, letting Montague lead her into a corner with a squashy purple sofa. She was sick of people darting looks at them, anyway. "But I only allowed you in my presence that long because you were being nice to my friends, remember? For most of the night, at least."

"True," Montague said, pulling her down to the couch, "and I've been nice to your friends today, haven't I?"

"Yes," Katie said, "is that why? I was wondering why you were behaving so out of character."

"Well, also self-preservation," Montague shrugged, "that many Gryffindors, and just little old me? I'd get ripped to pieces."

"Andromeda was there," Katie said. Montague's arm was still around her waist, moving up just a little more under her halter.

"A known blood traitor," Montague snorted.

Katie's hackles raised, and she pushed his hand off of her.

"Like you?" she said, "aren't you the one dating a Muggleborn, Montague? Still disowned by the way?"

"No," Montague shrugged, taking a swig of his own drink, "I brought mother some flowers. She forgave me. I am her favorite, after all."

Katie wanted to slap him.

"And you think that's all it takes to make me happy, don't you?" she said, "presents?"

Montague had been looking at the Patil twins dancing horribly with a pair of Kestral players, but he turned to her, incredulous.

"Bell, is that a bad joke?" he said, "You are, by far, the most difficult girl I've ever tried to win over in my life."

Katie snorted.

"You are," Montague insisted, "and you think that's all I've done? Buy you presents?"

"It's your main strategy," Katie said icily. Nearby, Ernie MacMillan hip thrust vigorously to the music. She shuddered.

"You're ridiculous, Bell," Montague snorted, following her eyeline, spotting Ernie, then recoiling.

"I've gotten into a brawl with Muggles in an attempt to impress you, for Salazar's sake."

"In an attempt to impress me?" Katie said blankly, her eyes being drawn back to Ernie against her will. It was hypnotic.

"I mean as fun as it was to punch some Muggles behaving like arseholes, why else would I have done it?" Montague said, "are you always this dense, Bell? Adrian told me you were, but I thought you were playing games."

Katie tore her eyes away from Ernie as he continued to vigorously thrust in a circle, frowning, "I thought you said Pucey said I was playing games with you, and you argued otherwise."

"Not that kind," Montague waved a hand, "I mean, you are playing typical girl games. Hard to get, that sort of thing. Adrian thought you were doing something a lot crueler."

"Ah," Katie said, looking back down at her drink, tacking a quick sip, "I see."

"But that's not you, Bell," Montague said, "you're not cruel."

"No," Katie said at once, lying, feeling a guilty squirm in her stomach.

"You look beautiful, by the way," Montague said, "of course, you always do," he said, when Katie didn't respond, "but your makeup, your hair...your outfit. It reminds me of that night in the Muggle club."

"Yeah?" Katie said, her eyes trained on her drink, her stomach squirming more. She'd done that on purpose, of course. That's why she'd agreed to wear something so skimpy. It had been Hermione's idea. They'd recreated her makeup, even using her Muggle stuff to make it accurate, and her hair was down, simple, her skirt short.

"Yeah," Montague said, "that was the best night in years for me."

Funny, because it had been the worst, for Katie.

"I couldn't believe you were there," Montague said, talking in her silence as the bass pounded and everyone else flailed around, "and I couldn't believe you were even more gorgeous than the last time I'd seen you in person."

Katie knew she should say something, but she felt so strange.

"When was that?" she said at last, "the last time we saw each other. Hogwarts?"

"I think so," Montague said, "I mean, I'd seen you in the papers, of course. But the pictures don't do you justice."

Katie looked up at last. She'd figured it out. What he was on about.

"You want to get me back in your bed tonight, huh Montague?" she said. "You're working awfully hard for it."

"Every night, Bell," Montague quipped, "are you going to slap me if I kiss you in front of your friends?"

"Yes," Katie said, hastily raising her drink to her mouth like that could keep him away.

"What a pity," Montague said. Nearby Terry Boot was licking a shot out of Susan Bones's bellybutton. It was always the quiet ones. "Are you going to slap me if I suggest you come to my place so I can kiss you there, without your precious friends witnessing your disgrace?"

"Yes," Katie said, louder.

"Even if I promise just to kiss?" Montague said, "on my honor?"

Katie scoffed.

"You have to take me to your flat just to kiss me?" she said witheringly, "and then, oops, you'll be shirtless again, insisting I need to rub muscle cream on you. You can't fool me with that one again, Montague."

He grinned. "It worked once, didn't it Bell?"

"Don't remind me," she said, sipping more of her drink as Ernie began twerking.

"What in Merlin's name is MacMillan doing?" Montague said, bewildered.

"Er…don't ask," Katie said. Sometimes teaching pure-bloods Muggle culture was a mistake. Oftentimes. She saw Montague wearing jeans out of the corner of her eyes, trainers on his feet, the ludicrous fucking ring clashing jarringly with his Muggle clothing. Scratch that, it was always a mistake to teach pure-bloods Muggle culture.

"Well if I can't kiss you in front of your friends, who are doing far worse than kissing, mind you," Montague said, as they watched George and Ange grinding on the dance floor while they tongued, "and you don't believe me that I just want to snog in my flat…where can I kiss you?"

"Nowhere," Katie said sourly.

"But you dressed up for me so nicely," Montague said, bending close to her so she could hear over the music, running his hand down her bare arm.

Katie knocked back the rest of her drink. It had been her third. Her head swam.

"There's some back rooms," she said, "snog me there."

Montague's hand paused in its downward journey.

"Yeah?"

"Well hurry up, before I change my mind," Katie said, then she stood up, thanking herself for wearing boots and not the stupid velvet heels of the dinner party that Alicia had championed for the club.

They walked through the club, passing Ernie's energetic pelvic thrusts while Katie pondered if it had been Alicia, after all, that had fucked the more embarrassing wizard out of the two of them. She reached her hand back to lead Montague on instinct and he clasped it, O'Hannon and Carlson, two players from Puddlemore United's first-string glancing at her as they passed, O'Hannon's eyes pausing a little too long on her legs.

"Bell, heard you were with Flint?" he shouted over the pounding bass as they squeezed by, Michael Corner gyrating with a third string witch from the Wasps Katie didn't remember the name of.

"He wishes," Katie yelled, and Carlson laughed.

"Flint's the jealous type," O'Hannon snorted, "better be ready to deal with his wrath."

She couldn't hear over the sound of the shitty techno, but Katie could see Montague scoff out of the corner of her eye.

"He's nothing I can't handle," Montague yelled over the music, his hand squeezing hers, "I've dealt with him before."

"Yes, you're a real expert," Katie said, rolling her eyes.

"Well, watch out," Carlson said to both of them, "he's had his eye on you for years, Bell, and he won't take this lightly."

"Take what?" Montague said, "he doesn't own her."

"He's engaged," Katie said, outraged.

"What?" Carlson and O'Hannon shouted.

"I said, he's engaged!" Katie shouted back over the bass, "his fiancé has sent me twelve howlers!"

"Oh, Vivica Chancery?" Carlson shouted, waving a hand in dismissal. "That's not his fiancé. That's his stalker."

"Ah," Katie said, uneasily. Somehow, it had been less frightening when she thought it was Flint's fiancé.

"Well, it doesn't matter," Montague shouted, leaning in so the other men could hear, "she's not with Flint either way. She broke her leg, mid match, because of how fucking dirty the Falcons are."

Carlson, O'Hannon, and Katie nodded in unison. The Falcons were notoriously the dirtiest team in the league. Everyone knew it, and it united the other players in deep dislike of them.

"I saw it, they practically threw her off her broom," Montague continued, "Flint caught her cause she fainted from pain, that's all. Tell them how bad your leg was, Bell."

"The bone was sticking out of my skin," Katie confided, and Carlson and O'Hannon made disgusted faces. "The rest was Rita and Flint making things up," She said, "For a laugh, I guess."

"Alright, so who's this?" O'Hannon said good naturedly, "to win over the very lovely Miss Bell?"

Katie felt her humiliation rise.

"Graham Montague," Montague shouted, holding out a hand, and the two men exchanged a look that Katie couldn't interpret.

"Ah, no wonder the rest of us never had a shot, eh Bell?" Carlson said, "not rich enough, eh?"

Nearby, Alicia leapt from table to table, dancing, as people cheered.

"I don't date people because they're wealthy," Katie said coldly, "I like smart guys with good personalities who can make me laugh."

Too late, she realized she'd just complimented Montague. In front of witnesses. In front of Montague.

For a wild second, she had the urge to backtrack, to jest and say "and that's why I'm still looking," or "know any guys like that?" but the moment had passed, and worse, Montague had smiled at her, and it wasn't a smirk. It was his nice smile, the one that made her tingle and angry at the tingling, all at once.

"Well bully for you," Carlson said amiably, "and congrats on winning Bell for your own, Montague."

"I don't own her," Montague said coolly, "and she's not a prize to win, either. She's a person."

Katie thanked every deity known to man that she hadn't worn those spiky shoes, not when she was feeling like a feather could knock her over. The tingling intensified.

"Just a joke," Carlson said, hands up.

"Well, take care on what jokes you tell about my girlfriend," Montague said haughtily, and it should've stopped the tingling, it really should've, but instead the tingling increased until she felt like she was on fire, the same way she had that night in Montague's flat, and panic set in, but the tingling overrode her panic.

Carlson and O'Hannon exchanged looks while Katie laughed like it was all a joke, her hand squeezing Montague tight, and then Juliet Northrup, Katie's teammate was there, greeting them, and Alicia chose that moment to fall off a table with a drunken shriek, drawing everyone's attention.

"Back here," Katie hissed, dragging Montague, "now," and she yanked him along until they made their way out of the sweating masses of writhing bodies and into the narrow hallway beyond, lit with red torches.

"This place really goes for broke when it comes to clichés, eh?" Montague said in a normal tone of voice as the bass receded, "Salazar, slow down, Bell, don't want to make that leg crack again."

"It's fine," Katie said, the burning spreading, "it's been fine for days."

They pushed past two snogging couples and walked through a room of people playing drinking games, through a beaded black curtain and a room of what she hoped were fake skulls and into a tiny back room, deep red and possessing coffins.

"What the—" Montague said, looking around, but Katie had pushed him down onto a chair, climbing onto his lap, heedless of her skirt, in a rather vulgar straddle. Aunt Celia would surely swoon again if she had spotted them.

Montague's eyes were wide, but Katie didn't give him a chance to speak, lunging forward and latching into his half open mouth.

"Mmmph!" Montague made a sound into her mouth.

Katie tried to kiss him, but Montague's mouth was still closed, his eyes open.

"What's your problem?" she hissed at him, "I thought you wanted to snog."

"Well, truthfully, the ambiance is a little mood killing," Montague said, his eyes going sideways at a nearby skull.

"It's plastic," Katie said impatiently, her arms around his neck, her legs around him, "is that all it takes to turn you off of me, Montague?"

His blue eyes went darker.

"No," he said, raising his own hands to her back, "no, I think you know that it's not," he shifted his hips, deliberately, and Katie was shown that he was telling the truth.

"Well what's the problem?" she snarled, "you were just whining and begging for a snog."

"I wasn't whining," Montague said indignantly, his hands moving to her bare thighs absent mindedly, "and Montague's don't beg, I'll have you know, Bell."

Katie raised an eyebrow.

"Care to make a wager?" She said recklessly.

Montague made another incoherent noise.

"Fine," Katie said, rolling her eyes, "I'm going back to the party then," She made to get up, but to her complete lack of surprise Montague grabbed at her, holding her to his lap.

"Don't get hasty, now," he told her, "it's just…you seem wasted, Bell. I don't fancy you getting mad at me later for taking advantage."

Katie scoffed. "Again, that didn't stop your begging earlier," she said.

"I didn't see how drunk you were until you started walking around," Montague said, "and—"

"It's just a snog, you prude," Katie said, now really annoyed.

Now he was reminding her why she hated him. He'd taken most of the day to be the charming liar he'd presented to Ruby, Sandra, and Julia, and he'd gotten Mrs. Weasley to laugh. Mrs. Weasley rarely laughed anymore. He'd told Carlson and O'Hannon that he didn't own her, that Katie was her own person. He'd made Alicia squeal with happiness. He'd gotten Mr. Weasley to get that crazed gleam in his eye that he didn't get much. He'd gotten Percy to poke his head out of his work for something else, to hang out with his friends and brothers and sister again. He'd gotten the gang, who had been drifting apart slowly, back together with a common purpose, although that last two had been unintentional. And worst of all, he'd gotten Katie's hormones alive and pumping again, and now he was being a wet blanket out of nowhere. She tried to get up again, now beyond irritated. Maybe she'd find some other bloke to snog, just to annoy Montague. Maybe he'd get into a fight again for her honor. Then again, that might lead Katie's ridiculous hormones and body to betray her fully into sleeping with him again, like last time.

"No," Montague said, "don't go. I like you here."

"Oh, I know," Katie said, wriggling again on purpose, and Montague groaned.

"You fucking tease, Bell," he said, and she moved again, this time slowly.

"You're going to bloody kill me," Montague hissed, his hands tightening on her thighs.

Katie leaned forward and licked up his neck.

"Fucking hell, Katie," Montague groaned, his hands on her waist now, guiding her hips, and Katie remembered that Ange had said him calling her by her first name was a good sign, and smiled against his neck. "I thought this was just a—" he groaned again, as Katie bit his neck, "bloody fucking hell, just a— fuck!"

"Not a fuck," Katie said against his neck, her head still spinning a little. On the wall behind her was a grinning vampire face made from paper mache. She wondered which Muggle born owned this place. It was a genius idea, create a wizard club and make it decorated like Muggle Halloween to dazzle the ridiculous wizard and witches who didn't know better.

"I thought this was just a snog," Montague finally got out, but he was griping her like he'd never let go.

"Okay," Katie said innocently, moving her head, "just a snog," and she leant forward to kiss him.

She was still angry about the confrontation in the alley way. She couldn't forget the horrible things Montague had said then, how he was friends with bullies still, how he was lying to her about his flying abilities for sympathy, how he was lying to her about his bets about fucking her in school, and perhaps a bet even now. But a girl had needs, sometimes, and a girl could remember the good things as justification for having needs, could remember the dastardly evil plan she was supposed to be doing to toy with Montague for revenge. A girl could also remember that Montague had defended her to Pucey as not cruel enough to do such a thing, but luckily, hormones and alcohol made Katie's conscience forget that. For now.

Montague's left hand was in her hair, on the back of her head, moving down to wind her hair along his hand, the hand he wore that stupid fucking family ring on, no matter how much he protested to her his dislike of his father and their terrible relationship. But then again, Montague was a compulsive liar. She knew this. His right hand was moving down her arms, up her back, down her back, over her waist, onto her legs, grabbing her arse, everywhere as they snogged heavily. After some minutes, Katie pulled back for air, her lips extremely wet, her hair mussed. Montague leaned forward to kiss her own neck, exactly how she liked it. The fact that Montague had learned exactly how to kiss her was alarming, but not alarming enough to penetrate the lust coursing through her. Damn him! Why did it have to be him, of all boys, who was inciting these feelings in her? Katie gasped against her will as Montague sucked on exactly the right spot. Why couldn't it be Oliver? Sure, he was a little obsessive, a little dense, a little embarrassing, but Oliver was handsome, he was nice enough, he was brave. Why couldn't it be someone like Dean Thomas? He'd gotten so tall, and he had gorgeous dimples, and he was a great artist and a good friend, and a hero. Or why couldn't it be a boy who played Quidditch, maybe a backup so he his ego wouldn't be too large, maybe that bloke who played on the Cannons first string as a beater, Patricks, he was amiable and funny and—

"Katie," Montague said against her neck, "so beautiful."

"Shut up and kiss me," Katie hissed. It was better, much better, when she could lose herself to lust. It was also better when he was being an arse, to remind her of who Graham Montague really was. Wasn't it?

Montague obliged, and their groping kissing resumed, escalated, and descended into the murky territory between snogging and shagging.

Katie pulled back for more air again, chest heaving, Montague's hand with that stupid fucking ring halfway up her halter top, her own hand under his sweaty shirt, his other hand grabbing her hip as she moved on his lap.

"You sure you don't want to come back to my place?" Montague said, licking the wetness on his puffy lips, his own chest heaving for air. His immaculate pure-blood hairstyle was almost as fucked up as Katie's mane of hair, a dark red mark on his neck, a bite mark on the other side of his neck. And just like that, Katie came to her senses.

"Thought I was too drunk?" she jeered, letting go from where she had been groping Montague as he made a disappointed noise, smoothing at her tangle of hair, wiping the back of her mouth.

The look of dawning disappointment on Montague's face did nothing to improve her mood.

"You are the worst tease I've ever met, Bell," he groaned.

"Really?" Katie said, raising an eyebrow, moving off Montague's lap fully, pulling down her skirt as he sighed with regret, running a hand through his own dark hair. "aren't you surrounded by faux virginal pure-blood maids who desperately want an engagement ring but can't, under any circumstances, give up the goods?"

"Yes, and they're still not as bad as you," Montague said scowling, his eyes alighting on a statue of a Muggle's idea of a zombie. He glared at it.

The overwhelming relief Katie felt that Montague was back to himself, the arrogant arse who felt entitled to Katie's body and not this weird, romantic, complimenting, humble boy who worked hard to be polite and likable to her friends, could not be understated. This Montague she knew how to deal with. That other one, who called her beautiful and breathed "Katie' like she was something special to him, and not just a means to a winning bet, was terrifying.

"So sorry," Katie sighed, "next time I'll remember to talk about tiaras while wearing the most modest of fashionable robes. Maybe I'll flash an ankle. Get you all worked up."
Montague looked at her darkly.

"It takes a lot more than an ankle to get me worked up, Bell," he said, yanking his trousers straight, "But next time you decide to tease me I'll make sure to get you one of the family tiaras to wear during."

"Oh, does it get your blood pumping to see your family shame in one of the family heirlooms?" Katie said, even more darkly, crossing her arms and her legs.

The coffin next to the couch banged open, a tinny evil laugh coming from the empty silk lining as they both jumped.

"Actually, it does,' Montague said, glaring at the empty coffin, then Katie, then the coffin again like it had personally wronged him. Another tinny recorded spooky laugh came from it.

Katie's heart hardened. It hurt, to hear the truth, that Montague liked her because it was wrong and rebellious and a phase, but it helped more.

"Excellent," Katie said, "I'll be sure to wear one at the next pure-blood nightmare you drag me to, and dance with your mates all night. You'll combust from longing. I'll waltz away with a tiara. Win win for me."

An evil little smile came to Montague's face. "You want me to take you to another family gathering, Bell?" He said, "or a debutante ball, is that it? Do you even own white dress robes?"

"Yes, for all the ritual sacrifices we Gryffindors do," Katie said blithely. She didn't like that smile. She didn't like it at all.

"Of course, you'll be much older than the other witches there," Montague said, ignoring her joke, "you'll stick out a bit, I'm afraid, even in one of the family tiaras."

"What a shame," Katie said, "I do so love fitting in with teenagers with no opinions or autonomy. How embarrassing that I won't."

"No, you'll be full of snide comments, Montague said, "you'll probably get punch dumped on you for coming with me. It will be quite entertaining. There's one in a few weeks, if you want to go. I'll have Sassy buy you some appropriate robes. Mother will be thrilled I'm finally escorting a potential bride. I mean, until she sees it's you."

"I was so dying to be identified as your potential bride," Katie said acidly, "not by any of my actual accomplishments. I'll change my name to 'Montague's Potential Bride,' how's that? You can moan it next time I get you going."

"Then there's also the problem that you'll be an absolutely terrible influence on the other lovely debutantes," Montague sighed, "old, so very old, a Gryffindor, poor, common enough to be working for a living—"

"The same keeps me up at night," Katie nodded. The coffin wailed again.

"And of course, the part where you're a terrible harlot," Montague said, "infecting all of the alleged virgin pure-blood brides with your whorish ways."

"No one enjoys my whorish ways more then you, Montague," Katie said, forcing herself to pretend this conversation was banter, seeing Percy and Hermione nodding encouragingly at her in her mind.

"Me, and a few dozen others, I'm sure," Montague said meanly.

Katie launched to her feet. Her left combat boot twitched, begging her to plant it in Montague's crotch at a hundred miles an hour.

"What's your problem?" Katie hissed, "I don't agree to come back to your flat to shag you and you treat me like dirt? What happened to you don't own me?"

"Well I don't," Montague shrugged, "yet, I mean."

Her left boot left the ground, trembling. Katie forced herself to put it down. Her hands were clenched in fists, shaking. Thank god. Thank god he'd stopped the act. She'd almost gotten fooled. Stupid her. Stupid, stupid Katie. Always too trusting, too naïve, too willing to believe the best of people. She remembered Anastasia Higgs and shook with humiliated rage.

"You don't own me," Katie said, "ever." A ghoul wailed from the ceiling. She wasn't sure if it was real or Muggle made. Such was her life.

"I'm not mad because of that," Montague said unexpectedly, "cock tease all you want, Bell, I can handle it."

"I wasn't—" Katie said furiously, but of course, she had been. Right? No, a little voice said, you weren't teasing. You liked it too.

"You were," Montague said, "after I spent all day being the perfect gentlemen. For shame, Bell. But I'm rather used to you cock teasing me at this point. It's very fun for you, isn't it? How you righteous Gryffindor get your noble jollies, teasing and then denying the big evil Slytherin? Fine. Have your fun. It's fun for me as well."

Katie was so red with anger she could feel the heat radiating off her face. Her foot twitched again, her nails biting into her palms.

"You have the nerve to be mad when you just admitted you were being nice to get in my knickers again, Montague?" Katie said, "you insufferable, hypocritical ass!"

"That's not what I said," Montague said, and he looked just as angry as he did, "but go ahead, twist it that way. No, I was just thinking. Adrian told me you'd do this. He said to watch for it. You'd dress up in a way you'd know I liked, get me going, blow me off, smirk about it. He said it would prove him right, that you're just toying with me for…what? What are you toying with me for, Bell? Fun? Boredom? Adrian thinks you're angling for a ring but I know you'd rather die than marry me."

"I'm glad we are on the same page," Katie said coldly, crossing her arms so she wouldn't punch him.

"So, money?" Montague said, "is that it?"

"You know what?" Katie said, "fuck you, that's what." It wasn't her best insult. Not even her best insult of the last five minutes. But she was angry. She was half drunk. She was guilty, at least a little.

Montague's lips twitched like he was fighting a smile, but then he scowled again.

"You're claiming it's not the money?" he said, "okay. So, what, then?"

"If you think I'm using you for your daddy's money," Katie said, "then you don't know me at all."

She tossed her hair over her shoulder, preparing to flounce away before she destroyed Montague's balls in a rage. It would be funny, but his parents would probably do some dark magic ritual on her in retaliation.

She got two steps before Montague was behind her, cat quick, grabbing her arm to turn her to face him.

"So what it is, then Bell?" he said, "why are you still messing with me? I want to know."

He pushed her slowly against the blood red wall, next to a sticker that said "boo" in giant white glitter letters.

Katie's heart was racing. She could get away easily. Montague was much bigger, yes, but he wasn't holding her hard. She could feel his heart racing through his wrist. She considered. They had discussed it, what to say to Montague if he ever asked her why she was fraternizing with him. Most everyone but Hermione had thought it wouldn't ever happen, that he was so arrogant he would just assume Katie was dying to be with him. Hermione had told her to say she'd had a crush on him since school but was too scared to act on it due to prejudice. Katie opened her mouth, prepared to tell that lie.

Montague pushed her hair off her face, gently kissing her cheek.

"Tell me Bell," he said quietly, almost like a plea, for all he insisted that Montague's didn't beg, "Adrian's wrong, isn't he?"

Katie took a deep breath, the lie on the tip of her tongue. Montague softly kissed her again, down her neck.

"Come on," he said, definitely pleading, "tell me the truth."

"You make my life exciting," Katie blurted out.

Montague paused in his kissing. "Yeah?" he said into her collarbone.

"Yes," Katie said honestly. It was true, the fear and the lust and the banter and the anger…her life hadn't been dull for ages now.

"You Gryffindors," Montague sighed onto her shoulder, stroking her hair like it was made of gold, "always looking for adventure." Whatever had been driving his anger was gone, and he sounded…what? Amused at her Gryffindor predictability? Relieved at something? Relieved at what, though? He kissed her bare shoulder, moved her hair gently, and turned her around, kissing down her back.

Katie's eyes widened. The halter top and mini skirt recreation had either been a horrible mistake, or the greatest idea she'd ever had.

Montague kissed down one shoulder blade, up the other, and down her spine again, then he was kneeling. The ghoul wailed again.

He wasn't even touching her, except with his mouth, but Katie was frozen against the wall, her eyes huge.

What the hell was happening?

Montague's hands moved up to her hips, and Katie let herself be turned around forward again, her eyes so wide she was sure she looked like a deer struck dumb by lights. He was still kneeling at her feet, the dark red mark on his neck illuminated by a bright orange jack-o-lantern light.

They looked at each other, the coffin banging open and wailing in the background, startling Katie, but that was her mistake, and she felt Montague gently lift up her right leg, kissing her ankle above where her clunky boots ended, up to her knee, above her knee, up her thigh, on the inside, breaking her out in goosebumps. What the hell was happening? Why was she letting him do this to her in a room decorated in a child's idea of a haunted house? Anyone could walk in and see them! Anyone!

Montague kissed back down to her knee.

"Where did it break, Bell?" he asked her.

"Higher," she said, her voice barely audible, and she watched as Montague kissed back to the spot her bone had broken though, "yes," she said, "there."

"I was worried," Montague said, kissing the spot, his tongue touching her briefly then retreating, "and then you didn't even let me see you."

"I was knocked out," Katie said, hearing how pathetic her voice sounded and dying on the inside, yet unable to stop Montague. He was kneeling! In public! To her!

"And then you sent me that owl, telling me to leave you alone," Montague said into her thigh, moving so close he was practically up her skirt, literally, his mouth travelling far too high, "when I wanted to take care of you."

"I was fine," Katie protested, "and I invited you to Alicia's party, didn't I? I thanked you for the presents." Montague's mouth was under her skirt, her heart pounding so hard it was like a roar.

"Let me take care of you," Montague murmured into the top of her inner thigh, "like you need."

Not here, Katie tried to say, but she lost all ability to speak when Montague kissed her on her knickers again, every ounce of her body screaming at her brain to shut up and remember how good this was last time. Montague kissed her over her knickers again, and she tried to push him away, tried to remove her leg from his shoulder and hand, but instead her hands listened to her body and not her brain and grabbed his hair instead.

Montague groaned against her, and she felt that stupid fucking ring cold on her right thigh, his other hand grabbing at her knickers. Oh god no, her brain screamed, knowing what he was about to do next, oh god yes, her body screamed louder. Montague moved her knickers aside gently, his lips touching her.

"Katie?" she heard Ginny, "are you back there?"

She twisted her hands harder in Montague's messy hair, throwing him away from her as she pushed with her right leg in terror, knocking him down, pulling down her skirt, not even having time to adjust her knickers underneath, her Muggle lipstick all gone and on Montague's face and neck, now that she was seeing him without a cloud of lust covering her vision.

Ginny pushed through the beaded curtain, alone, thank the moldy corpse of Godric Gryffindor.

Montague wiped at his mouth with the back of his hand as he sat up, right when Ginny's eyes spotted him on the floor.

The red mark on his neck was so large it was practically a neon billboard, the bite mark not much better.

Katie made eye contact with Ginny. She couldn't read her expression.

"Hey, Ginny," Katie said weakly, fighting every instinct inside her to try to adjust her knickers.

"You've got horrible timing, Weasley," Montague said, his arms on his knees, where he'd pulled them up to a sitting slouch, "we were in the middle of something."

"I think she noticed, Montague," Katie said.

"Oh no," Ginny said, "I've gone blind. For many reasons."

"Yeah well…piss off," Montague said, without a lot of heat, "you don't see me interrupting you and Potter." He wiped at his mouth again, and Katie cringed, hoping against hope Ginny would assume that he was just trying to get her lipstick off, and nothing more.

"Well," Ginny said, "just be glad I'm not George."

"Always," Montague snorted.

"Did you want something, Ginny?" Katie said hastily, before the youngest Weasley clawed the eyes out of her fake boyfriend, "you needed me?"

"Just wanted to make sure this bastard wasn't attacking you," Ginny said, "you disappeared a while back."

"Er," Katie said, laughing nervously. I mean, wasn't this kind of her friend's fault? Hadn't Ginny told Alicia to make Katie's eyes smokier, earlier? Hadn't Alicia been swanning about in her necklace, exhilarated? Hadn't Ange, Harry, and Luna been the ones to say Montague could've changed? Hadn't Hermione had cold blooded ideas to manipulate Montague with?

"I assure you my parents are married," Montague said icily. Why was he still on the floor? Surely, he didn't think he'd drive away Ginny, and then Katie would just let him continue, right?

Why not? Her evil, turncoat body screamed at her.

"Well, make sure you clean up before you come back out," Ginny said at last, looking at Montague like he was a bug, "Unless you want Ron to arrest him for using the Imperius on you."

"I thought Weasley wasn't even an Auror anymore," Montague needled, finally getting to his feet. Katie's body screamed in protest.

"Shut up," she hissed to herself.

"What?" Montague said, overhearing her, "he's working in that joke shop, isn't he?"

"That joke shop," Ginny said furiously, "is an award winning, multi-location—"

"Yes yes, it was a great idea," Montague said sourly, lifting up the bottom of his shirt to rub at the lipstick all over him as Katie's horrible hormones caught a glimpse of his naked torso and went haywire, "Weasley should add a line of joke vanishing cabinets. Shove your enemies in and ruin their lives. Hilarious."
The silence was so tense Katie half thought a wand might get pulled out, while her idiotic body trained her eyes on Montague's strip of abs as he kept scrubbing at his lipstick coated neck now. God, she needed to get laid, by someone other than Montague. Now. Maybe then she'd get a fucking grip.

Ginny opened her mouth, her eyes promising death, and Katie's brain strangled her hormones into submission so it could function again.

"It's really confusing when you call them all 'Weasley,'" Katie said, "I suggest an alternate approach."

Ginny and Montague turned to her, almost like they'd forgotten she was there.

"Ginny, maybe," Katie said, "you know. 'Ron.' 'George.' It's this radical new idea called first names."

"He better not call me Ginny," Ginny said rudely, "and get rid of that hickey on his neck, Katie. And that vampire bite. If Ron doesn't arrest him, George might choke him to death." She turned to leave, after throwing Katie a look that told her she was disappointed in her. Well. At least she knew one of her friends hadn't lost their mind and decided Montague was a changed man. The guilt rose to smother her, strangling the reckless lust that had taken over her body for the last half an hour.

Montague opened his mouth, surely to make a horrid retort to Ginny's retreating back, and Katie stepped over to him, pinching his arm.

"Ow!"

"Stop antagonizing her," Katie said, brushing at her tangled hair with her hand.

"Why?" Montague said, "just because your mates ate filthy fucking hypocrites? I was just forced to watch bellybuttons getting licked, her precious brother tonguing Johnson while they mated on the dance floor, and…whatever the hell MacMillan was doing. But they can't handle a hickey?"

"Just…give them time," Katie heard herself saying, "the garden party went well, didn't it?"

"Yeah, because of me," Montague snorted, "and my efforts. And your other friends, the ones you're not as close to, like Thomas. But let's not act like your best mates went out of their way to make me feel welcome."

"Alicia hugged you," Katie said.

"After I brought her a twenty thousand galleon necklace," Montague scoffed.

Katie felt lightheaded again. "Twenty—thousand…?" Every time the tiniest part of her thought this could maybe work, that she could bring Montague places and he'd charm the right people, he had to go and remind her that their lives were totally incompatible.

"Adrian was nice to you," Montague said, "why can't your friends be nice to me?"
"Do you really want me to answer that?" Katie said, finally reaching down to straighten her knickers with a sigh of relief. Montague followed her movement and smirked.

"Just take them off and hand them to me, Bell," he said, and she had wanted him to shut up about her friends, but not because of this. He tried to guide her back to the wall, "let's finish what we started."

"No," Katie said, swatting at his hands, "fix your neck and let's go back to the party."

Montague scowled. "Fucking Weasleys," he hissed, "ruining everything, as usual."

Katie crossed her arms, waiting. Here it was, finally. No more lies about how he'd liked Mrs. Weasley's expensive but unfashionable robes, no more pretending to find Mr. Weasley interesting, no more playing Muggle games and acting like it was fun for him.

"Nosing about in other people's business," Montague continued, "being self-righteous about everyone else, when they go about being wankers to everyone they meet," he rubbed absently at the lipstick now on his hand from where he'd rubbed his mouth, "acting like wizarding royalty, when they live in—" Too late, Montague caught himself.

"Yes?" Katie said, "do go on. I've been waiting for your real personality to re-emerge all day."

"That was my real personality all day, Bell," Montague snapped, "I'm allowed to be multi-layered, aren't I?"

"Sure," Katie said, "so reveal this layer I know so well. Do go on about the Weasley's royal attitude not matching where they live. Throw in some insulting remarks about my own poverty while you're at it. Insinuate I only like you for your money again. Make some disparaging remark about me for having sex with you like we're in The Scarlet Letter."

"I didn't mean any of that," Montague said at once, "after all, I've just learned you like intelligent blokes with great personalities who make you laugh and give you excitement."

"You learned that before you said I was using you for your money," Katie said coldly. She was itching to fix Montague's neck herself, to remove the lipstick stains from his shirt, but she had a feeling if she uncrossed her arms somehow that might lead to her rage snogging Montague again.

"You don't even like my presents," Montague persisted, "you can't be after me for my money."

"I know that," Katie said, "who are you trying to convince, here? You're the one who said it."

"It's just, Adrian got in my head," Montague admitted, finally looking uncomfortable, "and I ignore it, most of the time, but sometimes, you…you do things he warns me about, and then I think he might be right."

"Well, he's not," Katie lied brutally, "he's jealous."

"I know," Montague said at once, "I know he's jealous. So is Cassius."

"And what lies are Warrington filling your head with about me?" Katie asked.

"Nothing," Montague said at once.

"Oh, really?" Katie asked.

"What lies are your friends telling you about me?" Montague tried to redirect. The coffin banged open and wailed again, the ghoul joining it, but they both ignored it.

"Funny enough, Harry was trying to convince me that you were not even that bad in school," Katie said.

"I knew I liked him," Montague said, and at Katie's incredulous expression he said, "what? He was nice to me today. Not like his girlfriend and her brothers."

"Keep beating that dead Pegasus," Katie said, "and Ange commented on how nice you were being. So, I don't know what you're talking about. You can't expect George to like you. Ron was civil. Percy was pleasant."

"He was," Montague frowned, "and that was weirder then if he'd been rude."

"There's no making you happy," Katie sighed.

"That's my line," Montague quipped.

"And don't think I didn't notice how you dodged that question about Warrington," Katie said, "what's he said to you about me? I saw you brought him to my last match."

"Nothing," Montague said, "are you sure you don't want me to finish what we—"

"You're such a liar," Katie said, outraged, "and you expect me to believe you?"

"He's worried you're going to hurt me," Montague said, "that's all. I told him that was stupid. Come on, Bell, take off those knickers and hand them to me. You know you want to lose the ability to walk again."

"That's ridiculous," Katie said, the irony of it hitting her. Her, hurt Montague? When he was the one in process of ruining her life over a bet? "I couldn't possibly hurt you."
Montague looked at her intently.

"Yeah?" he said.

"No," Katie said, bewildered, "how could I?" How could she hurt Montague when he didn't even care about her?

"I know, sweetheart," Montague said, "I know you better than that." He leaned forward, kissing her out of nowhere again, Katie's eyes open in shock. Sweetheart? She let Montague kiss her a few seconds more, then pushed him away.

"You are the moodiest bastard ever," she said," that's about the twelfth time tonight you vacillated between anger and accusations and then…whatever that was."
"Whatever that was?" Montague said, his eyebrows contracting.

"Being nice," Katie said, calling me sweetheart, calling me Katie, saying I'm beautiful, her mind filled in.

"I could say the same to you," Montague said, "you're teasing and flirting and happy one moment, angry and pushing me away the next."

"You drive me crazy," Katie said, "that's why. It's your fault."

Montague smiled his little half smile at her.

"I drive you crazy?" he said, "that's the nicest thing you've ever said to me, Bell."

"Yeah well, tell all of your friends," Katie said, "so they stop calling me some sort of devious slut who's toying with your emotions."

"No one called you a slut," Montague said at once, the smile disappearing, "they know better."

"Just you," Katie said pointedly, "and your mates call me a deviant who's toying with your emotions, then."

"I don't think you're a slut," Montague said, clearly lying, "and if Cassius or Adrian brings their concerns up again, I won't listen. I'm sorry I listened. They're wrong, and that was stupid of me to listen at all."

"Yes, it was," Katie said. No, it wasn't.

"I won't bring it up again," Montague vowed, "and if my mates try to say it I'll tell them to shove their opinions up their arses."

"Great," Katie said, "then let's get back to the party and have fun with my friends before George sends a search party."

"Yes, wouldn't want to disappoint George," Montague said, with only the barest hint of sarcasm.

Too late, Katie thought, I've disappointed him enough.

"Speaking of disappointing everyone," Montague said into her ear as they made their way back through the snogging couples in the hallway to the main dance floor, "how are we going to keep everyone here from blabbing about us dating?"

"Oh, is that a problem?" Katie said.

"Not for me," Montague said, "but I was distinctly under the impression that that was a problem for you. Unless you're desperate to get the Flint story gone?"

"Already on it," Katie said, remembering the glint in Hermione's eye when she'd read it in the paper. "How'd you keep your family quiet, anyway?"

"Are you joking, Bell?" Montague snorted, as they spotted Ginny, who had her arms crossed tighter than her lips were pursed as she watched them like a hawk, Harry talking into her ear while she nodded. Angelina and George were still snogging and dancing. "You think they want to spread the family shame? Sure they want to throw it in my parent's faces, but they're still attached to the Montague name."

"Poor them," Katie said, "how selfish of you to drag their name like this."

"I am known for my self-involved nature, Bell," Montague said, "you seem to like commenting on it yourself."

"Yeah, Mother Theresa you aren't," Katie said.

"What?" Montague shouted over the music.

"Nevermind," Katie shouted back. Dennis Creevey was over in the corner talking to Oliver. Katie looked away, her guts twisting.

"So, how are you keeping all of these people quiet?" Montague shouted, "or are you finally willing to admit you're my girl in public?"

Katie twitched. Montague calling her his girl never failed to set her teeth on edge, but it was all part of the plan to make him so wrapped up in her that she got back her dignity, her knickers, and her sanity, so she let it go.

"I've been admitting it all night, haven't I?" Katie gesture to the various Quidditch players she'd introduced Montague to who were drinking and gyrating in equal measure.

"Sure," Montague persisted, "but you're okay with this getting out to everyone?"

"We all sign a parchment," Katie said, looking around for a drink, "anyone who comes to an event. A Hermione special. No one can talk about anything that happens tonight. Hang on, did you not sign it?"

"Oh no," Montague said, "you're not getting me to sign one of Granger's sneak parchments. Absolutely not."

"Fine," Katie said, irritated, "but that's how."

"I see," Montague said, "more of the golden fighters of the war protecting their privacy?"

"Something like that," Katie said, beelining to a bottle of unopened champagne.

"Speaking of," Montague asked, "am I invited to the annual memorial?"

"No," Katie blurted, horrified, "why would you even think—god, no!"

"I'm not a Death Eater,' Montague snapped, "we've been over this, Bell."

"No," Katie repeated, her eyes straying to Dennis again, "just…no."

"Fine," Montague said, "I get it. Wasn't looking forward to it anyway. But when am I invited to dinner with your parents?"

"What?"


"So," Ange said as they waited for their menus, drumming her fingers on the table, "should we wait for Edith? Or are you going to spill, Katie?"

Alicia groaned. She was wearing giant sunglasses. Her hangover was so potent from her birthday the night before even a potion hadn't fully fixed it.

"Don't talk about spilling in front of me," she said, then gave a horrible retching burp.

"No one told you to drink enough to kill a young giant," Ange said severely.

"No one told you to rub your bum on George's wang all night," Alicia said rudely, "and you did that, too."

"I snogged him in the back room," Katie said hastily, because Ange had picked up a fork like she was going to stab Alicia and she needed to distract them, "we argued about twelve times and then we fooled around some more. He called me sweetheart. It was all very confusing. Happy?"

"No," Alicia and Ange said together.

"Well, I need advice,' Katie whined, "he wants to meet my parents. How can I avoid that?"

"What?" Ange shrieked, and Alicia moaned, clutching her head. Before her friendship with Alicia, Katie hadn't even been aware it was possible to drink enough that a hangover potion wouldn't work.

"Now, don't start without me, girls!" Edith said loudly from behind them and Alicia clutched at her head some more, "I was hoping you would show up!"

Katie dutifully waited until Edith was available before continuing.

"He asked when he was getting invited to having dinner with my parents," she said in tones of darkest doomsday.

"Never," Ange snorted.

"When hell freezes over," Alicia agreed, gulping a full glass of water while she winced, "Edith, I need bread. So much bread."

"And some mimosas," Edith nodded, "just keep yourself drunk. That will help."

"I like how you think," Alicia said, nodding.

"When Draco Malfoy shaves his head," Ange said, "that's when you invite him to your parent's house."

"When Harry gets that skull tattoo," Alicia said, looking longingly at a nearby pitcher of mimosas.

"When Hermione dog ears a book," Ange said.

"When Ron kisses a spider," Alicia said.

"When both of you shut up," Katie groused.

"So, never," Edith said cheerfully, and when Alicia glowered at her, she got up with a giggle and a promise of their own pitcher of mimosas.

"You're the best," Alicia called after her with a sigh.

"Oh, Katie," Ange sighed, "Ginny said you were having a bad night, but of course she couldn't elaborate much because of that hexed parchment of Hermione's. I didn't think it would be this bad though."

"Ah," Katie squirmed. Of course Ginny had no idea about this request of Montague's and had definitely been hinting at finding Montague kneeling at her feet, wiping at his mouth with her fang marks on his neck, like the pathetic loser she'd become, but she wasn't telling Ange or Alicia anything about that shame from last night. Alicia had been drunk beyond belief, snogging a half dozen men at the party, and even a few girls, and Ange had been practically mating with George. They didn't need to judge Katie. But then again, that was probably the defensiveness talking.

"What should I tell him, though?" Katie said when Edith returned.

"Say you're an orphan," Alicia suggested.

"They were planning to come to one of my games," Katie said, "if we keep winning. I think he'll notice they aren't dead."

"Well, stop inviting him to your games," Ange said.

"I haven't been!" Katie said, outraged, "you know that! He just shows up!"

"Well tell them not to come until you get this sorted out," Alicia said, rubbing her head.

"Maybe I could hire actors," Katie mused.

"Oh, come on," Edith said, looking between them, "he won't act that badly in front of them, I'm sure!"

Katie joined Alicia in rubbing her head. God only knew which version of Montague she'd get around her parents. Maybe he'd bring her mother flowers and compliment her clothing like he had with Mrs. Weasley. Maybe he'd charm her father into laughter while they ate, like he had with Mr. Weasley. And maybe he'd sneer at their plebian Muggle ways, insulting her family so thoroughly she'd slap him and ruin the whole plan. Not that Katie could much remember the point of the plan at this point. It was only a matter of time before everyone found out. So, he had her knickers. So what? But then she pictured a full-page article with detailed descriptions of what fucking Katie Bell was like and shuddered. He wouldn't. Would he?

"Yes, he will," Katie said darkly, "He'll insult my mother's looks, probably. Definitely insult our house."

"I don't know,' Ange said, "he was really nice to the Weasleys, and your parent's house is bigger, isn't it?"

"Yes," Katie said, widening her eyes in code, "but they've got that other issue."

"Other issue?" Edith said blankly.

"Yes," Katie said, "um…differences."

"Oh," Edith groaned, "politics. I understand. Say no more."

Ange and Alicia nodded, pretending like they understood.

"I think Ange is right," Alicia said, "he'll bring flowers and maybe expensive gifts," her eyes briefly misted over. They had had to talk her out of wearing the ruby necklace to brunch, "and then he'll be polite for at least two hours. After that, though…."

"I can't have him meet my parents," Katei groaned, "I used to complain about him to them! Him and his mates!"

"Just tell them he's grown up," Edith said, "changed his ways."

"But he hasn't!" Katie wailed.

Alicia and Ange exchanged a look, then Alicia winced at the head movement and shoved a piece of toast whole into her mouth.

"What?" Katie demanded, "I thought you two were on my side, here!"

"We are," Ange soothed, "It's just…he really was nicer, yesterday."

"He wasn't that bad when we got the bikinis," Alicia said, "a little sarcastic, but then, so are you, Katie."

Katie was speechless with indignant outrage. The injustice of it all!

"You weren't there that night at the club," she said at last.

"Your other friends liked him," Ange reminded her.

"Until he propositioned them for a foursome!" Katie cried.

Come to think of it, maybe she should get together with her Muggle mates. Sandra had called her the other day, demanded she go out with them again. Maybe they'd go to a club, not the one with Nate of course, seeing as how he still hadn't called her again, and Katie would snog some other cute boy, shag him maybe, get that cloying itch that was under her skin that had been pestering her since Montague kneeled at her feet out of her system.

"I'm just saying," Ange said, "he's kind of an arse, but…he's trying." Alicia nodded, then clutched at her head.

"He's trying very hard," Edith agreed.

"Maybe he really does like you," Alicia said at last, after another wordless exchange with Ange.

"He doesn't!" Katie said, bewildered. Had Montague hit her mates with something when she wasn't looking? A charm? A potion? Or was Alicia that easily bought off?

"He does," Edith said, nodding, "quite a lot, I think."

"Just have him go to dinner with your parents," Ange said gently, "you said they've been harassing you to date again, right? Bring him round. Order him to be on his best behavior."

"You're supposed to be on my side, here," Katie said, outraged, "you're supposed to help me get out of this!"

"Katie," Alicia said, "if you're trying to manipulate Montague into believing he's in love with you…don't you have to introduce him to your parents?"

"No," Katie said, picturing the look on Montague's face as he got a look at her Muggle parents and their Muggle home. She wouldn't be able to resist punching him in the face if he dared to say something insulting about them, and then it would be all over, for good, "I'd rather die."

But of course, she didn't.


Author's Note: While I was writing this chapter, I realized this strayed too close to "Detained" again...one of my favorite Gryffindor/Slytherin stories ever! That too had a chapter where Katie and a Slytherin guy interact in a ridiculous club celebrating Alicia's birthday but I couldn't make myself change it. The stories are still significantly different, but please note "Detained" by Jenszabo is amazing! This story is on this website with the author listed as se1ge but trust me and google "Detained by Jenszabo." That will give you a few more chapters posted on livejournal though very sadly, it's abandoned/wip.

Thank you and cuddles to all my reviewers! Hope everyone is doing well. :)