Chapter Twelve: Getting Stunned by an Electric Eel
"I feel like I haven't seen you in ages," Montague said as they strolled around the gardens in Versailles, by far the most innocent and therefore the weirdest date she'd had with Montague yet. But he'd owled her, demanded she tear herself away from her broom and her mates and make some time for him, and told her he'd planned a whole day for them. Curiosity had caused Katie to agree to meet up on her next Sunday, the only day free form Jones's torturous drills. What could Montague have possibly planned for their day together?
Montague had shown up to her flat with a box of pastries for Ange and Alicia, then told Katie they'd get their own, before pulling out a portkey and prompting transporting them to Paris, and a street full of adorable little patisseries. After a pleasant but strange breakfast where they'd politely caught each other up on their past weeks while they both clearly tried to pretend like their sexually charged fights from the last time they had seen each other hadn't happened, Montague had found a spot empty of Muggles and Apparated them to Versailles, of all places, and dragged her back to the extensive gardens, holding her hand the whole time.
"It's only been two weeks or so," Katie said, admiring a nearby topiary, "I've been busy. Jones is a slave driver."
Jones had been running them ragged through practice. They only had four more matches to win in order to win the league cup, and even though the odds, as always, were against the Harpies, the only all-female team in the league winning the cup, they still had a good chance. The bet makers had been going wild for them.
"You didn't get in trouble for last match, did you?" Montague frowned, "it's not like it was your fault the Falcons are dirty cheats."
"I'm amused you find dirty tactics unappealing, now," Katie said dryly. She had been even more amused that Montague had been pretending all day like the hordes of Muggle surrounding them didn't faze him. What was he up to this time? "I seem to recall when you enjoyed flipping much smaller girls by the head mid match in order to gain the Quaffle."
"What?" Montague said, blinking at her, "I wouldn't do that." They passed a row of rose bushes.
"Hilarious," Katie said, "you're so funny."
Montague frowned at her but didn't push the point further.
"So you're not in trouble?" he said instead, "only, that girl whatshername, Hellgirl, scored a bunch after you were knocked out."
"I know," Katie said, angry all over again at the unfairness of a world where Flint had helped break her leg and then he and Hellman had reaped all the reward.
"But you're still first string?" Montague said, "I don't need to put a hit on Hellgirl for you?"
Katie snorted.
"Tempting, but no," she said, "Jones gave me a pass. She knows how Flint is."
"And you're far better than Hellgirl," Montague said, "everyone knows that."
"Thanks," Katie said, a breeze ruffling the loose strands from her braid.
"And much hotter," Montague said, pushing back one of her stray hairs, "I like this dress."
"Thanks," Katie said again, looking down at herself. It was just a simple little strappy cotton dress, soft green in color, patterned with tiny pink roses, not overly tight or short, but Montague had been staring at her on and off so much she'd actually ducked into the loo at the patisserie to be sure something wasn't wrong with her appearance.
A group of Muggle tourists walked by, which was good, because Montague had looked like he was on the verge of snogging her in public again.
"When's your next match?" Montague asked, "against the Kestrels?"
"Don't you already have tickets?" Katie said, "and your shirt all picked out?"
"Maybe I do," Montague said, "I assumed you'd forget to send me some again, or use that mysterious untrustworthy owl."
"I can't give you box seats," Katie groused, "you know that. Or else—"
"Yes yes, I know," Montague said wearily, "or else the papers will write about me, your new mystery man. Doesn't everyone already think it's Flint, or did that article Lovegood wrote help?"
Luna had written a front page story for The Quibbler about how Flint's demon had temporarily possessed Katie mid match, and that accounted for the swooning, but that under no circumstances would a temporary demon possession cause someone to lose brain cells so much that they'd do something foolish like date Flint. More importantly, she'd had a small article filled with rebuttals from at least ten reliable sources about Katie not dating Flint, and Rita had seemed to realize the jig was up and written a follow-up article in Witch Weekly how Flint was not Katie's mysterious new man, but merely a rival on the pitch. Why none of her readers questioned why Rita herself had previously insisted that Flint was her boyfriend, was beyond understanding.
Katie had dearly wanted to kiss all three articles with red lipstick and send them to Flint but had refrained. Flint, for some reason, was also keeping his trap shut about her dating Montague, and she'd like to keep it that way.
"Yeah," Katie said, "but it won't be long before Flint opens up his mouth and tells everyone the truth, will it? He seems to know about us. He taunted me about it right before the whole incident."
"You mean where you swooned into his arms?" Montague scowled.
"You mean where I fainted from pain from the broken leg he gave me?" Katie retorted, as they made their way around a giant fountain. Of all the thing she'd think Montague would plan with her, a trip to France where they'd look at Muggle historical sites had not been on her radar.
"Whatever," Montague said, "but don't worry about him telling anyone. I doubt he will."
Katie looked at him suspiciously. "Why would you think that?"
"I just know him is all," Montague said, but she saw that tell-tale way his eyes moved a little to the side, not looking at her, and she knew he was lying about something yet again, "he's not the type."
"If you say so," Katie said after a lengthy pause. She wanted to tell Montague she knew about all his compulsive lying, but what would that gain her? If Flint kept his mouth shut, that was all that mattered. Who cared why?
"It's going to be awkward for you to play Johnson," Montague said, "wont it?"
"Very," Katie said gloomily, then she continued without thinking, "it will be nice to have someone there who will be rooting for me only, at least."
"Who do you mean?" Montague said, stiffly, "did you invite that Muggle of yours?"
"Oh, here we go," Katie snapped, as nearby another group of Muggles smiled at them and Montague scowled in return, "I've been waiting for you to bring that up for ages."
"What, the fact that you're two-timing me with a Muggle?" Montague said, "or was I supposed to just let that go?"
"I just drank some coffee and walked around a park with him," Katie snapped, "untwist your knickers."
"And how do I know that?" Montague said rudely, "you're not fucking me, we both know that. So, who are you fucking?"
And just like that, Montague was back to enraging her. He could bring her on a romantic trip to Paris, but then he had to accuse her of daring to have sex, as an adult woman with normal human needs. He was his own worst enemy.
"Myself," Katie said shortly, "I do it for me best."
She expected Montague to make some scathing remark about Nate again, or else brag about his own sexual experience with her some more, but his mood shifted again.
"That so?" he smirked, "I'd like to see that sometime."
"You're bloody impossible," Katie said, throwing her hands in the air, "are you shaming me for having sex or not? Are you mad at me about Nate or are you buying me a million presents? Are you being a supportive boyfriend or are you trying to ruin my self-esteem like we're still in school?"
"I'm not trying to ruin your self-esteem," Montague said, looking startled, "I've never tried to do that. Haven't I just told you how you're hotter than Hellman? Didn't I say I like your dress? You're beautiful, you know that." Katie felt herself turning pink, which was humiliating. "Don't fish for compliments, Bell. It's tacky."
"So, you're attracted to me," Katie said, "the erection has already informed me. That doesn't mean you aren't trying to drag down my self-esteem in other ways."
Montague laughed, "the erection?" he said, "that makes it sound like an alien, Bell."
"It would explain a lot," Katie mumbled.
"I'm not trying to drag down your self-esteem," Montague said, "are you mad? Don't answer that, of course you are. No one sane would've said that."
"Ah, these self-esteem pep talks are truly magical," Katie said sarcastically, "please, call me a whore again. Talk some more about my tacky behavior and trashy friends."
"Bell, for Merlin's sake, what do I have to do to make you happy?" Montague scowled, "I've tried everything."
"Everything?" Katie said, incredulous, actually sputtering with outrage, "ev—everything? How about common decency and respect?"
"I've tried that too!" Montague exclaimed, "with your Muggle mates, remember? Where have they been, by the way? They were a lot more fun than your other friends."
"They're busy," Katie lied. She normally would've seen them again around now; it was one of her rituals. See her Muggle mates every three to six months, pretend she was Katie Bell, football star who had been pants at history and art and paid attention in class and was relatively popular, then fall into a depressed funk for a day or two, unable to reconcile her past and current lives, before going on to be Katie Bell, war heroine and responsible witch who spent all her free time improving her Quidditch game. But if she saw her Muggle mates, they'd talk about Montague. And they, at least, would remember what an arse he'd been and not understand why Katie was dating him. "And you were awful to them, don't lie."
"I was nice," Montague corrected, "I was respectful to you the whole night, and then you went and threw yourself at some disgusting Muggles and I had to fight them off for you, and even then, you flung yourself at that diseased Muggle and tongued him. So, I realized you didn't want respectful, Bell. It's your own fault."
The unfairness of this took Katie's breath away, and then she realized from Montague' s perspective, that he might have a point. She'd only fucked him after he'd acted like an arse. It was a sobering thought.
"Well I'd prefer respectful again," Katie said at last, "just try."
"I will," Montague said at once, "but you can't see that Muggle again, Bell. You're my girlfriend. I don't share."
Under normal circumstances, Katie would rear up and tell Montague he didn't own her or her body or her time or her dates, but if she was trying to make the idiot love her…
"Okay," she said, "I won't. I haven't. I just…"
"Yes?" Montague said, "why, exactly, did you try to cheat on me?"
"I didn't," Katie snapped, "you weren't even…I mean we haven't determined what we are, so how is that cheating?"
"You're my girlfriend," Montague repeated slowly, like she was an idiot, "I introduced you to my family, Bell."
"Well you hadn't then," Katie retorted, but it was weak, she knew it was weak. They'd had plans with Montague's family when she'd gone on that date. Katie cast about for an argument. She'd felt totally fine, well mostly fine, about trying out Nate to try to get over Montague's spell on her. But it sounded so awful now.
Her eye caught on a fiery orange flower, and Percy Weasley whispered in her mind. "Be honest with him sometimes, Katie," he'd told her, "show him some of the real you.
That's how you'll really get his guard down."
"I'm sorry," she said at last, as Montague watched her as they walked, a butterfly flying nearby. It seemed like a sign, "that was wrong. But you must see all this from my perspective, Montague. We were terrible enemies for years. You'd always been mean to me, and you were mean to me that night, and I slept with you. I don't just do that, you know."
"I know," Montague said, squeezing her hand.
"No, I don't think you do," Katie said, "I've...never done that before. She stared at the ground as they walked. She couldn't look at him. She felt so disgusting, so exposed.
"And then I woke up and thought you'd…I dunno. Laugh at me. Tell everyone and ruin my career, and my life. Never want to see me again, except to…make fun of me. But you kept hanging around, and you've been sending me all of these weird signals."
"I'm not—"
"I want to trust you," Katie cut in, and she realized how true it was, and she looked up at him at last, "I want to trust you," she repeated, the intensity of Montague's stare making her want to look away, "I don't think you realized, earlier. I meant I was glad you were coming to the game to root for me. That's what I was saying. But…it's hard to trust you. I was trying to see how I felt about you. That's why I went to get coffee with him."
"And?" Montague said, pulling her to a halt. A pair of Muggles who were also holding hands walked by, smiling at them. Katie supposed it did look like they were having a romantic moment.
"And what?" she asked.
"What did you figure out, when you went out with him?" Montague asked her.
"I told you at the club," Katie said, "I want a smart guy who interests me and makes me laugh."
Montague was still looking at her in the most peculiar way. She couldn't read him, not in the slightest. Why wouldn't he laugh at her and tell her he'd fooled her? Why wouldn't he smile and say he was glad to hear it? Why didn't he tell her he was still angry at her? Why was he looking gat her like that?
"That's good," he said finally, "because I've known for years I want a girl who challenges me. Who's witty and tough and doesn't care what other people think of her. I thought that was you."
He still wasn't smiling, or frowning.
"It's not?" Katie said, her heart pounding so hard she could barely hear herself over the roar. What the fuck was wrong with her now? Montague had just lied to her five minutes before about Flint, and now she was falling for his stupid lines again?
"You fit all of them except one," Montague told her.
"Which one?" Katie asked, hating that a part of her actually wanted to know. Actually cared about the answer.
"Well, you seem to care an awful lot about what other people think," Montague said.
"I don't," Katie said weakly, feeling like she'd been stabbed. She was a Gryffindor. She was supposed to be brave.
"Prove it," Montague said.
"Do you really want to do this?" Angelina yelled, as the unexpected rain hit their faces at an angle.
"No," Katie shouted back, but she lunged for the Quaffle anyway as the Kestrel's crowd booed.
Even over the pouring rain she could hear Lila Simmons shouting into her magnified wand that Katie and Angelina going at it was a battle of friends, Battle of Hogwarts heroes, and roommates.
"At least she didn't say lovers," Angelina quipped, turning her broom and flying off.
Regretfully, Katie pelted after her. She hated playing against Ange and Alicia. It was wrong. It was unnatural. It was—a Bludger rocketed their way and she ducked. The crowd booed her again. It was necessary to steal the Quaffle and score, if she wanted to remain on first string over Hellman.
Katie flattened herself on her broom, dimly seeing Ginny closing in out the corner of her eye, and now Lila was beyond herself with excitement at the thought of three former teammates, Gryffindors, and heroes battling over the Quaffle.
"You would think we're about to mud wrestle," Katie shouted, diving for the Quaffle, but Ange knew her too well and jerked to the side, the crowd howling like the stands were full of banshees.
"Montague wishes," Ange shouted back, laughing.
Katie cringed. She'd had to invite him to sit in the player's friends and family box. She'd had to! He'd practically dared her to. He'd almost called her a chicken.
"Then again, that was always Marty McFly's fatal flaw," Katie said out loud, realized she said it loud, and wondered how long it had been since she'd become a full-fledged lunatic and not realized it.
"What?" Ange shouted, and they neared the hoops.
"I said, Warrington wishes!" Katie lied, and she hadn't meant for it to be a dirty tactic, but Ange turned to her with wide eyes.
"You invited Warrington?" she shrieked, and her grip slackened, for just a second, and Katie yanked the Quaffle free with equal triumph and regret coursing through her, dove down to escape another Bludger, and turned, rain plastering her loose hair strands to her forehead, as the crowd screamed and booed and Lila Simmons questioned the legality of her totally legal move.
She hadn't exactly invited Warrington. But Montague had asked her for three tickets, when she'd agreed to prove her bravery to him in the gardens of Versailles, before they spent the rest of the day looking at Muggle historical sites all over France, ending with the best meal of Katie's life in a restaurant overlooking a truly spectacular view of the Eiffel tower at sunset. It had been the best date of Katie's life too, hands down, and she knew Montague knew it, by that little smug smirk he was sporting at the end of the night. And when she'd kissed him so she wouldn't have to look at that smirk anymore, who could blame her? Although of course, kissing Montague had led to him looking even more smug.
"Is Warrington sitting with George?" Ange screamed to Katie's back as they ducked and weaved back to the Kestrel's goal hoops. "Katie, tell me they aren't in the player's box with George!"
She shouldn't be distracted. Ange was probably returning the favor and trying to distract her to get the Quaffle back, but Katie had to score.
"They're sitting next to Harry, actually!" Katie shouted over her shoulder, and then a Bludger came so close to hitting her for this foolish mistake she had to roll over on her broom to dodge it, and Ange was on her heels again, knocking boots with her…literally.
"What about the press?" Ange shouted, "have you gone mad?"
"He called me chicken," Katie whined over the howling crowd and howling wind, "and apparently I'm Marty McFly!"
"What?" Ange screamed, but then Jones was there, knocking Ange out of the way.
"Thanks, Captain," Katie shouted gratefully, as Ange swore, and then she was swerving and flipping the Quaffle form one hand to the other, settled on her non dominant left to trick Biffins, the Kestrel's Keeper, and flung underhand with all her might at the right most hoop, just like Oliver had taught her in second year.
"You're small," he'd told Katie, "tall for your age, but skinny. You won't be able to gain much muscle, so we can't use that. You're fast, and you're tricky. Let's work with that."
Katie watched the Quaffle fly just like she always did, as if she were a million miles away. Biffins had lunged to his right, just like Oliver had always told her people would, and the Quaffle soared in, unimpeded.
The crowd went wild with rage, but the small Harpies cheering section jumped and hollered, and against her will, Katie looked over at the player's box and saw Montague jumping up and down with Harry on one side and Pucey on the other. Warrington was politely clapping, probably trying to impress Ange. On Warrington's other side Charlie Weasley looked amused.
Katie turned her broom around and saw Ange glaring at her.
"George is in the Kestrel's box," Katie reminded her, remembering at last.
"So he is," Ange said.
"And Warrington is in the Harpies' box," Katie said meekly.
Ange stared at her with deepest betrayal a moment longer. She didn't say it, but Katie could see "after all I've one for you" written all over Ange's face, and recoiled. It was true. Katie had been shy and lonely her first year. Leanne, the only other Muggleborn in Gryffindor in her year had been her only friend. It wasn't until second year and making the first string on the team that she'd made friends with Ange and Alicia, and been introduced to more people, gained more friends.
"Don't invite him to anything else," Ange said shortly, and she made to get the Quaffle from Biffins.
"I won't," Katie tried to say, but the crowd was howling too loud.
Well. It wasn't like Back to the Future Part 2 hadn't tied to warn her about the dire consequences of acting on a dare.
"Good game, Bell," Pucey said to her back, "that move on Johnson was superb."
Katie turned from where Jones and Marielle Slattery were having a shot drinking contest as the rest of the team cheered, a margarita in hand.
"You made it!" she said, too loudly, as her eyes fell on Montague. He was wearing a Harpies shirt again, as was Pucey, but Warrington, who was skulking behind them looking uncomfortable, was wearing a plain shirt in bright green. Bright green, which was a Harpies color… and also the color of the Kestrels.
"Ange isn't here," Katie said, louder, as behind her Jones shouted in triumph and Marielle slumped to the floor. They'd been at the pub for only an hour and Jones had already taken her first victim. Katie sipped at her drunk.
"Oh no," she said dismayed, looking down, "it's gone."
"I'll get you another, you lush," Montague said, but his lips were twitching into a smile, "what on earth is that you're drinking, Bell?"
"A margarita!" Katie said, still a touch too loudly, "and let's get some guac too, yeah? Some quesadillas?"
Montague, Warrington and Pucey all looked at her like she'd grown another head.
"Thank me later!" Katie said, turning back around to her group as Jones turned her attention to drinking Billy Washington under the table, one of the Harpies top sponsors.
"Where's Johnson?" Warrington said to her back, as Montague went off with Pucey to do her bidding. It was rather amusing. Katie of a few months ago would've never thought she would have two Slytherin spoiled boys to fulfill all her whims, yet here she was.
"Presumably at her own team's event," Katie said, although "presumably" had taken her longer then it should've to get out.
"You drunk, Bell?" Warrington said, looking amused.
"Not enough," Katie said, but she laughed. Warrington, who never smiled, cracked a smile.
"You're amusing," he said, "I didn't know that. Interesting."
"You sound like a robot," Katie laughed, but by the way she laughed Warrington could tell she wasn't making fun of him. It had merely been the laugh of a happy drunk, and his smile didn't drop. Pity he still looked like a sloth.
"I don't know what that is," he said, as Jones pounded down another shot and everyone cheered, "but this all makes sense, now that I know you're amusing. Graham said you were, but…I mean…"
"What?" Katie said, trying to dredge up some more of her drink through her straw.
"How's Johnson doing?" Warrington said, changing the subject abruptly, but Katie was too drunk to notice.
Katie sighed. "stop making me think about it, Warrington," she chided, "I feel bad when I have to play her."
"No, I mean, how is she doing with all of those articles?" Warrington shouted over the rock band playing nearby, "that Skeeter's writing."
"Now you're really ruining my buzz," Katie complained.
"I have your drink, Bell," Montague said, returning to her side with a giant frozen margarita, "you can stop trying to drink an empty glass."
"And the rest?" Katie demanded, snatching at the margarita.
"I've got something," Pucey said, waving an enormous basket of chips and guacamole at her, "but I don't know what. They said they'd bring the rest over."
"You bring gifts!" Juliet shouted as the team spotted the trio of Slytherins, and Pucey put down the food, "I knew I liked him, Katie!" She flung her arms around Pucey, who grinned.
"That's the wrong one," Katie said, but then she giggled at Montague's outraged expression. "stop pouting and try some before they get eaten," Katie demanded, and Pucey and Warrington dutifully obliged. Both of their eyes widened.
"Bell has the best taste in food," Montague said smugly, "I told you, didn't I?"
The band played on, and Warrington winced, then glared at the nearby Muggle speaker. The Electric Eel was an eclectic Muggle place, full of varied food and music and bright shiny things that made lots of noise. She really needed to take George here one day, come to think of it.
Katie thrust her margarita at Montague. "Try this," she demanded, and when Montague used the same spot on the glass she'd used to drink she saw Pucey and Warrington exchange a look.
"Fucking amazing," Montague said, "we need more." He handed her back the dink.
"I like how you think," Katie said, and then she laughed and flung her arms around him, carefully holding her margarita aloft, the exhilaration within her expanding and rising.
They had done it! They were almost in the finals for the league cup! Just two more matches to get there!
"How drunk are you, Bell?" Montague said into her ear as he wrapped his arms around her in return.
"I told you!" Katie said, "not drunk enough!" then she pulled back, fought the urge to kiss Montague in front of witnesses, and grabbed a chip. Pucey and Warrington were silently communicating with Montague over her head, but she didn't realize it until later, when she was angry and sober.
"You told me that, actually," Warrington said, and Katie laughed some more. Who knew all the Slytherin boys could be amusing?
"Why are you all not drinking?" Katie said, as Hellman scowled over at Pucey and Ginny scowled even more at Montague. Harry briefly waved, and Montague returned it. After a hesitant moment, Warrington and Pucey waved as well.
"We'll get some," Pucey told her, "when we get those guacs."
"The guacamole is right—oh no, it's eaten," Katie said sadly, "we're waiting on the quesadilla."
"Where are the rest of your mates, Bell?" Warrington said.
"I told you, Ange is with the Kestrels," Katie said, "or maybe she's fucking George somewhere, who knows?"
The smile on all three boys faces disappeared.
"What about the rest of them?" Montague said after a moment, "I don't see Poncy Weasley or some of the others."
"I dunno where Percy is, probably measuring cauldron bottoms somewhere," Katie said, drinking some more margarita. In the back of her mind, she was replaying her three goals in technicolor slow motion, the way the visiting Harpies crowd had cheered, Jones' rare approving smile, "as for everyone else, they might be with Ange. I told you why, Montague."
"Huh?" Pucey said, confused.
Montague looked smug. "Yes, repeat it, if you will, Bell?" he said.
"I wanted you to come to the game because my friends split on who to cheer for when we play each other," Katie shrugged.
"And?" Montague led, but Katie was far too drunk to notice.
"And I wanted you there to cheer for only me," Katie added dutifully, and when she looked around for the quesadilla, she saw the three boys exchanging another look. Something pinged through the haze of alcohol. "Although," she added, irritated, "You were supposed to wear a glittery Mr. Katie Bell shirt. What happened to that?"
Warrington and Pucey burst out laughing, and Montague's smile vanished. His ears glowed red.
"I didn't get it made yet," he said shortly, and Katie felt a sort of awful satisfaction. She didn't know what all those stupid looks were about, and frankly, she didn't care. If he wanted to act weird around his friends, Katie would oblige.
"Too bad," Katie said, tossing her hair, "oh, here's the quesadilla!"
"I'm getting drinks," Montague said abruptly, and he left again, leaving Katie alone with his stupid mates, who were eying her like she was a unicorn made of glitter.
"What?" Katie said, looking down at herself. She was still wearing a Harpies shirt with a Muggle hoody over it, just like she'd thought. Her jeans were frayed at the end and had little holes, her trainers were well worn black and white converse, but that was all normal. "Are my tits hanging out?" she said cheekily.
"Graham can only hope," Pucey quipped, and Warrington smiled oddly.
"You're not what I thought," he said after a moment, and Katie paused, her quesadilla halfway to her mouth.
"Meaning?" she said, then took a bite. Behind then, Jones slammed down another shot as everyone cheered. A group of Muggles writhed to the pounding drums a few feet away.
"Nothing," Pucey said, "we just remember you having a stick up your arse Bell, is all."
"I feel like you're lying," Katie said loudly, sipping more margarita, "and anyway, you two are the ones who look like a broom's been rammed up your arses. Is it the Muggles?"
"Keep your voice down," Pucey hissed, his eye darting around, and Katie rolled her eyes.
"Try some," she said impatiently, waving the quesadilla around "before it gets—"
"Oh look, a quesadilla," Harry said cheerfully, popping up next to Katie, "my favorite."
"Yes, I'm trying to get these two to unclench and eat it," Katie said, as Charlie made his way over too, the Slytherins looking increasingly uncomfortable.
"You should," Harry agreed as he chewed, and Katie, drunk as she was, couldn't help but notice that Ginny had not followed her boyfriend over and was instead glaring at Pucey and Warrington.
"Potter," Pucey said stiffly, picking up a piece of quesadilla like it might have Muggle germs on it, "good to see you."
"Yes," Warrington said, even more stiffly, "and you…Charlie Weasley, isn't it?"
"That's me," Charlie said amiably.
Pucey took a bite of quesadilla, presumably to cut the awkward tension between them all, and his face changed.
"Cassius," he said after swallowing, "you've got to try this."
"And a margarita," Katie insisted, "a frozen one."
"Already on it," Montague said as he returned with four drinks balanced in his hands, all different colors.
"Oh good," Katie said cheerfully, "I was running out," she selected the pink one as a replacement, then kissed Montague on the cheek again in thanks.
"It's raspberry," Montague told her, "you're favorite."
It wasn't until later when she was staring at the fireplace in her flat that Katie had wondered how Montague could have possibly known that, but in the Electric Eel, all she felt was drunken joy at how well her day had gone. Maybe it could work between them. Montague had called her bluff, sure, and forced her hand. She was going to have to deal with the consequences of having him in her player's box. But for now, she had helped win the match. Her boyfriend, even if he was an arrogant jerk was cute and buying her drinks, his mates were being civil, and her friends were being civil back. Life was good.
"Thanks," Katie said, smiling, and she kissed him again, this time her aim was a little off and she got a corner of his mouth, and Montague turned, and then they kissed again, briefly, on the lips.
Pucey and Warrington both had upraised eyebrows, but only Warrington had a weird little smile on his face as he accepted a drink from Montague in turn after Pucey.
"I see you've got my mate well in hand, Bell," he said, and it sounded like a compliment and an insult all at once. Montague, who had been smiling at Katie, changed expression immediately. It was like a switch had been flipped, and the boy who Katie had been ridiculously thinking she might be able to date for real was gone, and the arrogant arse who called her a slut and said she was using him for money was back.
"No one's got me in hand," he said coldly to Warrington.
"Relax, Graham," Warrington said, still with that weird smile, "we're all mates here. It was a compliment."
Montague kept glaring, and Warrington kept smirking, but Harry jumped in to bring up Quidditch and they all seized on the neutral subject, discussing the league and the Harpies chances for winning the cup for some time, the Slytherin boys pausing to stare at their drinks and the ongoing arrival of food like they'd never seen such things before.
"Good, right?" Katie kept saying in increasingly smug tones, Montague and Pucey both cheerfully agreeing, Montague pointedly saying every time how he'd told them Katie had great taste. Warrington stared at the Muggle food and drinks like they'd'done him personal injury, even while he agreed they were delicious.
"It's Puddlemere, the Arrows, the Catapults, and the Harpies left in the playoffs," Montague said, "or at least, they're the only ones who matter. the Harpies have got the best chance to win the cup, of course," he said, and Charlie, Harry, and Katie agreed.
"Do they?" Pucey said, "I thought the Arrows—"
"The Arrows are overrated," Charlie said, "the Seeker has gotten slow, and Bludger shy."
"Yes," Montague agreed, "and the Harpies have the better Chasers."
Warrington snorted, and muttered something under his breath.
"What was that?" Harry said politely.
"Oh, I was agreeing," Warrington said, "of course."
Montague, who was closest to his sloth-faced mate and had clearly heard what Warrington said and was furious about it, offered Katie another drink in a clipped voice.
"Okay," she said, not really caring what Warrington said until later, when her sober brain yelled at her for no finding out. after all, Warrington was an arse. Breaking news.
Pucey's eyes wandered around the room as Montague went to get her yet another drink and Harry and Charlie spoke amiably enough with Warrington, who had crossed his arms and stopped drinking or eating anything some time ago. Pucey's lip curled.
"What are you looking at?" Katie said, a little too loudly, in the voice of a belligerent drunk. She'd followed his eyeline and narrowed it down to a trio of Muggle dancing in front of the band, a Muggle in a sombrero shaking their shoulders in a shimmy at their friend who was drinking at a table, or Hellman, who'd won the tiniest bright green dress Katie had ever seen, her makeup flawless, her body so perfect she looked like a Barbie doll.
"Quidditch barbie," Katie murmured under her breath, "she flies, she scores, she shops."
"Nothing," Pucey said, a little to innocently, "Bell, what do you recommend I try next? Graham's right. You've got great taste in food." He smiled.
Over his shoulder, Katie saw Ginny pass by and glare at him. Or perhaps she was glaring at Harry, for continuing to talk to the Slytherins, while Katie felt overwhelming gratitude to Charlie and Harry. Imagine if she'd been stuck with Warrington and Pucey alone all night! She'd only gotten used to Montague recently, and he was significantly less of a pill then his mates. Which was really saying something, seeing as Katie had hit Montague in a rage more than once.
"Show me the menu," Katie demanded, and Warrington got an odd little smirk on his face.
What?" she snapped, "what's that look for?"
"Oh, nothing," Warrington said, "I don't know what you—"
"Cut the shit," Katie said in the tone of a far too honest drunk, "both of you are lying to me. I'm glad you think Gryffindor equals moron, but it's just not true."
Harry and Charlie both guffawed into their drinks.
Pucey and Warrington's expressions got even weirder. "I was staring at your mate," Pucey said, "Hellman."
"They're not mates," Harry snorted.
"Yes, thank you, Harry," Katie said, affronted, "more like...frenemies."
"Er, what?" Pucey said.
"It's a term Slytherins should be familiar with," Katie said, "as it means someone you're friendly with even though you're enemies with them."
"I like it," Warrington said, looking thoughtful, "apt for when speaking of Flint."
"You're friendly with Flint?" Harry said, raising an eyebrow.
"No," Warrington, said, "good point."
Katie laughed, and everyone stared at her like she had five heads aside from Warrington, but it had been funny!
Warrington smiled at her. As usual with a Slytherin, it looked uncomfortable, like Wednesday Addams smiling at a cheerful camp from hell.
Montague returned, looking rattled to be discovering Katie laughing and smiling with Warrington, or maybe it was just the continued presence of a Weasley who was being nice to him, or maybe it was Harry, who after all was the man who'd killed the most evil wizard of all time.
"Got you strawberry this time, Bell," Montague said, and Katie turned her smile on him.
Pucey and Warrington exchanged yet another look behind his back.
"So why were you staring at Hellman like she had a bucket of fish guts on her head?" Katie said, and then she laughed at her own comment. Well, Ange, Edith, and Alicia would've gotten it.
"Oh, we like Hellgirl now?" Montague said, "I thought we should all loathe her for trying to steal your spot on the team all the time."
"Yes," Harry agreed, "she's been vile to Ginny, too."
"She can't possibly steal your spot," Charlie said amiably, "she's not nearly as good."
"Her boobs are twice my size," Katie blurted drunkenly.
"Three times," Warrington muttered, and Montague shot him a filthy look.
"Three times," Katie agreed, "and order a pulled pork taco and thank me later, Pucey."
"Will do," Pucey said, "Cassius, do you want—"
"No," Warrington said shortly, looking sour again as a pair of Muggles in short skirts walked close by their table, chatting loudly about a party they were going to later. His lip curled, and everyone saw it.
"Well, as fun as this has been," Charlie said, "Ginny's going to kill us if we don' t come back," he said to Harry.
"She'll be fine," Katie said desperately, casting her gaze about. Ron and Hermione hadn't come for some reason to the game, and Oliver and Alicia were most likely helping George comfort Ange. Percy, of course, was most likely working. She needed someone to help her out. Three Slytherins, and her alone?
But Charlie and Harry left her, Harry shooting one last worried glance back at them. Well, she couldn't be mad. They'd spent a solid hour suffering for Katie. That had been more then generous.
"Are we sure he's a Weasley?" Warrington said as Pucey went to the bar to order his taco, "he's far too likeable."
Katie bristled, "don't insult the Weasley's," she said, "they're the best purebloods I know."
"Thanks, Bell," Montague said shortly, his eyes narrowed.
"After all of those Montague's you met, too?" Warrington said, "although I did hear your mother's dinner party didn't go so well, Graham. I'm sorry I missed it."
"It went fine," Montague snapped.
"Yeah, fabulous," Katie said, "I particularly enjoyed the part where I was repeatedly called a hooker."
"That was the most exciting part," Montague said to her, "it's when you woke up and acted like a Gryffindor."
"I believe it's when you woke up and acted like a Gryffindor," Katie retorted, her voice acidic, "or at least, you acted like you'd finally gained a spine."
Warrington was watching them closely.
"Do we have to discuss this now?" Montague said, his voice stiff, and Katie knew he meant in front of Warrington.
"Why not?" she said, "you're such mates and all. Such supportive friends. Tell me, Warrington, how would your family act if you brought me to dinner?"
"I wouldn't bring you to dinner," Warrington said, "I know better."
Katie couldn't tell who Montague was angriest at, Warrington or her.
"Shut your mouth," he hissed, settling on Warrington.
"No, no, continue," Katie said, sipping her drink.
"Well, Bell, no offense," Warrington said, his very tone screaming offense, "you're amusing and nice looking, I suppose, but it's one thing to date someone like say, Johnson. She's a little rough around the edges, sure, but—"
"I told you to shut up," Montague said menacingly, but Warrington ignored him again.
"She's not nearly as awful a choice of a…girlfriend…as you," Warrington said, "You're not someone you should ever admit to…dallying with. I told Graham that myself, honestly. For ages now, years, really, we've all told him—"
"Shut up," Montague said, stepping into Warrington's face, "or I'll make you shut up."
"Shame," Katie sighed, "we were getting on so well, too. So, let me guess. It's the Muggle family? Because that's really the only thing that's different from me and Ange and Alicia."
"Spinnet is a slag," Warrington snorted, and Pucey took that fortuitous moment to appear, an obscene number of tacos on his plate.
"Tacos!" O'Slattery yelled loudly, and then the rest of the team descended on Pucey, aside from Hellman, who saw the holder of the tacos and looked away, her face set. The team's arrival had most likely broken up a Slytherin fist fight.
"Shame," Katie murmured. She was so looking forward to watching Montague punch Warrington's teeth in.
"What's that about Alicia?" Pucey frowned, then he picked up one of his remaing tacos, took a bite, and closed his eye briefly in worship, "Sweet Salazar, Bell, I have transcended!"
"Oh, nothing," Katie said, "only Warrington here is calling her a slut and me a Mudblood." She turned to look at Montague, waiting.
Pucey made a strange noise through another mouthful of taco.
"Cassius, I believe you owe Bell an apology," Montague said coldly, "at once."
"For what?" Warrington said, "I'm only saying what you've said."
It was a good thing Katie had been still watching Montague when Warrington spoke, or she would've missed the way Montague's face went white then red then white all at once, making it clear that Warrington was not lying.
"That's not on," Pucey said, alarmed, looking between the two boys, "not on at all, Cassius. Be a gentleman."
Katie laughed. She wasn't actually amused, of course, or maybe the drunk part of her was. But the euphoria had been punctured in one fell swoop. Of course Montague had called her a Mudblood before. She couldn't remember him saying it to her face, but that meant nothing. They'd all said it to her face at one point tor another, including Pucey and Warrington. Just because she couldn't remember which ones of them had done it when, didn't mean it hadn't happened. And she hadn't forgotten that Montague had definitely called her that to the twins and Oliver. It was nice, sometimes, to be reminded of why she couldn't actually feel feelings for Montague, no matter how much Edith insisted he liked Katie, or how many of her friends had been tricked into thinking he'd changed. In the end, Ginny and George were the ones who were right. And the high of her match was gone.
Katie waited for Montague to say something, but he was at a loss for words, his face still paper white, his fists clenched at his sides.
It hurt. It shouldn't hurt, she knew better, but it hurt.
"Right," Katie said, "well this experiment's been amusing, boys, but—"
"And Alicia is not a slag," Pucey said loudly. Ginny looked over, her face a thundercloud.
"Her bedpost says otherwise," Warrington said, "but at least you just want a shag. You might get a disease, but that's fixed with some potions, I suppose. Graham, on the other hand—"
"Not another word, so help you, Cassius," Montague said at last, "don't make me—"
"What's going on?" Ginny snapped, storming over, her face promising death to anyone who crossed her, "I heard you say something about Alicia, Pucey."
"Nothing," Katie said, setting down her drink on a nearby table, "Ginny, want to get some air with me?"
"I'll come with you," Montague said at once.
"No," Katie said loudly, and Ginny's hand twitched in the direction of where her wand must be, "talk to your extremely classy friends some more, why don't you?"
Montague didn't protest again, and that made her feel worse. Katie stalked away, Ginny storming after her, to the patio where groups of partiers were drinking, smoking, and eating under twinkling lights and pinatas.
"What did he do?" Ginny said at once.
"Nothing," Katie lied for some reason. Perhaps she should've stayed, given Montague the chance to stand up for her. But what was the point? He had been fumbling for some lie, to deny saying that Katie was some humiliating piece of trash, that he hadn't said so himself, that he didn't slag off her friends. And she had already known all that, anyway. Why give him the chance to lie.
"I just needed air," Katie lied again, but she felt queasy. Maybe she really needed to cut down on all the drinking. She realized suddenly that she'd said that last out loud.
"Maybe you need to dump the poisonous toadstool attached to your arse," Ginny retorted, "and then drink all you want with us. Listen, Katie, I can set you up with a better guy. What do you think about Dean? He's tall. He likes Quidditch."
"He's a hero," Katie said inanely, her head throbbing now.
"He's Muggleborn," Ginny said, lowering her voice on that last word, eyes darting to nearby Muggles around them, "or…he thought he was, anyway. I think he's found out different, recently. The point is, he was raised Muggleborn."
Katie, who had just been thinking about Dean weeks before as a suitable alternative boyfriend, frowned.
"What does that mean?" she said, "we should stick to our own or something?"
"You've spent too much time with Slytherins," Ginny snapped, "don't insult me. I meant Dean would understand a lot of the nonsense you've gone through, with idiots like him," she jerked her head back inside.
"Sorry," Katie muttered, but the damage was done. Ginny Weasley had many good qualities, but no one had ever said she wasn't jealous. And weeks and weeks of press coverage about Katie's alleged relationship with Harry was finally rearing its ugly head.
"Isn't Harry practically Muggleborn?" Ginny retorted, still remembering to lower her voice, "then again, you two would probably be a better match, then us, right?"
"Don't be absurd," Katie scoffed, but that was the wrong reaction as well, and Ginny drew herself up, eyes flashing.
"Don't insult Harry to me," she said.
"I wasn't," Katie said, bewildered now, "you know I love Harry!"
But Ginny had finally had enough, and turned away from Katie without another word. Inside the pub, Katie could see Montague arguing with Warrington, his hands gesturing. What was he saying? Probably demanding to know why Warrington hadn't played nice like Pucey, why he hadn' t gone along with the lies. But Warrington had always been a prat. Suddenly, a thought shot through Katie's brain.
"What did he mean, we told him that for years?" Katie said out loud, and then she felt herself go green as a woman jumped out from a nearby bush that was covered in red jalapeno lights.
"Hello Katie," Rita Skeeter said, "what's that I hear about you loving Harry Potter?"
A/N: Not to be weird but can I just say how incredibly touched and grateful I am for your reviews for this fic in particular? Because the ratio of you who read this story and actually review as well is SO high, much higher than my more popular fics! *tear tear* Hope you enjoy! Sorry for the delay I was busy writing original fic for NaNoWriMo.
