Chapter Fifteen: You Must Be My Lucky Star
"Another rum and coke?" Ruby yelled over the blaring bass.
"Sure," Katie yelled back, "no, on second thought, I need to stop drinking so much."
"Since when do you drink a lot?" Ruby yelled back, "you've never been big on partying."
"Who said I was drinking and partying?" Katie said under her breath. After all, lately she'd been drinking to avoid the mess her life had become. The loud music swallowed her words. Next to them, Julia and Sandra were flirting with a pair of Muggle boys. "New habit," Katie said instead, loud enough for Ruby to hear, "trying to break it."
"While we're at a club?" Ruby said.
"It was your idea to come here," Katie said back mulishly, "I wanted to read books together. A book club."
"A book club?" one of the Muggle boys talking to Julia yelled, "I'd join. I'm in one now. We just discussed The Bridges of Madison County."
Katie stared at him, suspicious whether she was being made fun of or not.
"I love that movie!" the second Muggle boy said.
She squinted. The second boy's leather pants came into focus. He had four earrings in one ear alone. His companion had on a shirt patterned with rainbows.
"Are we in a gay club?" Katie asked Ruby, trying not to shout, but the music was so loud. It was Madonna.
"You just noticed?" Ruby said, laughing, "yeah, we wanted to spare you the mess of our last time out together. Clearly, you were so traumatized you wanted to start a book club."
"It's a good idea," Katie said, wounded, though of course, if she actually wanted to start a book club, all she'd have to do was ask Percy and Hermione to join.
They'd be insufferable of course. Probably write parchments full of essays, read a book a day, ruin all the fun out of it. Well. There was a reason she'd tried to convince her Muggle mates instead.
"We didn't want some handsy bloke bothering you," Ruby said, "after that disaster with that brawl and that Graham bloke. You sure you don't want a drink?"
Katie fought the urge to say yes. All around her, extremely good looking men, many of whom were half dressed writhed around to "Lucky Star". How had she just noticed they were in a gay club?
"No, I'm good," she said reluctantly.
"Well, when I get back we need to talk about Graham," Ruby yelled. Katie flinched.
"What's there to talk about?" she shouted, "I took him to a hospital and left when I figured out he was fine. That's it."
Why she had lied to her Muggle mates she didn't know. She was just so exhausted from feeling like she was letting everyone down by dating Montague. Her friends, her teammates, her parents…although Bill Bell had been won over by Montague's ability to listen to his long, rambling lectures, his repairing of the bust of Anuket, and his enjoyment of Jurassic Park. She just wanted one night where she could pretend she hadn't slept with Graham Montague and enjoyed it, then decided that toying with him with some misguided attempt at hiding their now very public romance was a great idea. Rita still hadn't written a single word about Katie's love life, but it didn't matter much. Most everyone who knew her knew the truth, judging by the owls she'd been getting since her last match against the Kestrels. People had put the paper's photo together with Montague's presence…although the few that had written Katie Howlers mistakenly thinking she was dating Warrington instead had stung even worse.
"I'm stupid, but I'm not that stupid," she'd wailed back at one, before remembering George's banshee counteracting powder and using it liberally. At the very least, Katie had been spared the Howlers from Rita's devoted group of middle aged witch readers, who didn't watch enough Quidditch to figure out her beau's mysterious identity. But that day, Katie had no doubt, was coming. She just didn't know when.
"Yeah, so you said," Ruby said, as Julia danced with the boy in leather pants.
"What, am I lying?" Katie said, trying to summon up her anger. She was, after all, lying.
"I dunno," Ruby said, "but Graham seemed determined to get your time. I'm surprised he would give up that easily."
"He didn't," a man said from behind them, shouting over the music as well, "after all he's been trying for years to get you to sleep with him, Bell."
Katie's face drained of color. She turned. Behind her, was Christopher and Frankie Montague, and an unknown man with glitter in his hair.
"Both of you?" Katie blurted, "but I thought…Christopher…"
Frankie's eyebrows raised. He had glitter on his eyelids, and red boots. Christopher, by contrast, looked like he was going to a Muggle bank.
"I'm a supportive brother," Frankie drawled, the same drawl Montague and most Slytherins used. Katie didn't like the look of recognition on Ruby's face. Montague and his brothers looked distinctly different, but similar enough that you could tell they were brothers. And of course, the drawl was unmistakable.
"Unlike other people," Frankie added.
"Graham, for one," the man with glitter said, winking, as a song from ABBA began blaring. He at least looked amused by the whole situation, even if the brothers did not.
"I got that," Katie said, "It was pointed. Well, don't think insulting Montague is going to insult me, or something. I agree that he's a total arse."
At that, both brothers cracked reluctant smiles as well.
"He did say you were smart," Christopher said, "I thought, given that you slept with him, that he was deluded about your intelligence, but…"
"You slept with him?" Ruby said, somehow her piercing yelp audible clear over the din. Julia and Sandra looked over. "That arrogant arsehole from your boarding school? Katie, you did lie!"
"You know what?" Katie said, feeling a headache coming on, whether it was from alcohol, ABBA, or stress, who knew, "I think I'll take that drink now."
Perhaps it was the four rum and cokes she consumed next, but Katie, who had been expecting to be in a world of misery, found to her surprise that she was entertained by Montague's brothers.
"I told him he didn't have to put on glitter and wear those boots," Christopher told Katie as they watched Frankie dance with Christopher's Hufflepuff boyfriend, whose name was Quiggly Bovan, like he was a character in a Roald Dahl novel. "Also, he didn't have to learn how to Vogue."
Katie saw Quiggly smother a laugh as Frankie flailed his arms around in a box around his head.
"You said he's supportive," Katie said, "you didn't lie."
"I mean, it's kind of insulting," Christopher said, "Quiggly doesn't even like Madonna or wear glitter. But he thought it would be amusing to mess with Frankie. He's almost too supportive," Christopher said archly, "should I worry about Quiggly?" He waggled his eyebrows and Katie laughed.
"Not with those moves of Frankie's," she said.
"Speaking of bad dancers," Christopher said as they watched his boyfriend and brother dance with Katie's mates and their new friends, whose names were, unbelievably, Tad and Shad, "I can't believe you witnessed my brother dancing and still shagged him."
"I was drunk," Katie said, glowering again.
She'd tried to explain to her mates earlier after introducing the Montague brothers while frantically sucking down a rum and coke. It had been a mistake! She was properly ashamed! She didn't know what she was doing still dating him but she was young and living her life! That last, had been an utter lie said exclusively for Frankie and Christopher's benefit. she'd tell the truth to her mates later. Perhaps it was marginally less humiliating to be faking a relationship to cling to the tiniest shred of dignity. Or perhaps that was twice as humiliating, and hormones were the more understandable excuse. She hadn't decided yet. Either way, her friends had gotten over it remarkably fast. They'd had the one night of arseholery from Montague, it was true. But not the seven solid years her school mates had suffered. "He was hot," Sandra had shrugged, "we've all been there. Remember me and that rugby bloke, girls?"
"Trying to forget," Ruby quipped.
"Is Graham hot?" Quiggly said, "you didn't say that, luv."
Christopher looked pained. "I suppose if you like arrogant tosspots who know how good looking they are," he said.
"Oh we're going to get along so well," Katie said.
"Listen," Julia said, "I get doing it once. You were drunk."
"Er," Katie said, "not that drunk."
In truth she hadn't been drunk at all. But her mates had seen how much alcohol she'd consumed, and they also had no idea about the existence of sober up potions. "I'd eaten a lot of chips," Katie had insisted. As much of an arse as Montague was, he hadn't taken advantage of a drunk girl, and she wasn't about to frame him for that.
"But why," Julia had said, "are you still sleeping with him?"
"I'm not," Katie said at once, as everyone stared at her like she was a total liar, "I'm just dating him. Sort of. I mean maybe."
"Er, what?" Ruby said, "you already slept with him."
"It's complicated," Katie mumbled. She didn't like the way his brothers were looking at her. Had Montague told them she was sleeping with him? They'd known about the first time, at least. Of course Montague had told them. Probably bragged it about it, just like he'd sworn he wouldn't.
"Oh leave the poor girl alone," Quiggly said, "I've never heard this song and I want to dance!"
"You've never heard Cher?" Julia said, looking at him like he had six heads, "you?"
"Should he have?" Christopher said blankly.
"Hahaha," Frankie said hastily, "of course he, a gay man, has heard of Cher. Don't be silly!" He shot his brother and his brother's boyfriend a warning look.
"We're not all the same, you know," Quiggly said, pretending to be insulted but then he'd laughed. "I grew up rather sheltered, gals, sorry about this."
"Amish," Katie blurted wildly. It would be just her luck if one of these idiots ruined the statue of Muggle secrecy when she'd spent so many years hiding the truth from her mates.
"Amish?" Everyone said in unison.
"Whatever, let's dance!" Katie said hastily, grabbing the person nearest to her, who it turned out was Frankie, possibly the only man in the club who was attracted to women. Oops.
"Okay," he said, "I have been so dying or us to chat."
"Me too," Katie lied for some reason. Maybe it was Montague. Hanging out with him so much had turned her into a compulsive liar as well.
She let go at once though, raising her hands to wave them around in the air halfheartedly instead. The last thing she wanted to do was some bizarro world where she got drunk and danced with Frankie Montague and ended up leaving another neon thong in a Montague boy's flat.
"So," Frankie said, as Cher blared, "what possessed you to sleep with Graham?"
"Better question," Katie countered, "how do you know I slept with him?"
"Well I have a brain, you see," Frankie drawled. He tried to ape a move Quiggly did and failed utterly. Katie stifled a laugh, and stifled any feeling of finding his bad dancing endearing. That was one of the things that had gotten her into this mess to begin with.
"So he didn't tell you?" Katie persisted, "you figured it out?"
"He came into The Shivering Grindylow," Frankie said, "moping around horribly about something. Drinking like a fish. He wouldn't tell us why."
"Who is us?" Katie said, watching Frankie closely. She had worked out most of Montague's 'tells" when he lied, and she assumed his brother would have the same ones. So far, Frankie hadn't indicated any lies were emerging from his mouth.
"Me and Cassius, Adrian and Terrence," Frankie said, "so finally, Adrian asked him if it was girl trouble. Well you know Graham. He tried to lie and say he didn't have girl trouble, what with his face and money."
"Ugh," Katie shuddered, "god, he's an arse."
Frankie snickered, "I told him I liked you. After dinner. Christopher said you're using him, of course. I said you were as well, but that makes me like you more."
"I'm not using him," Katie said, weirdly affronted, "not the way you are insinuating. In case you didn't know, I'm a professional"—she swiftly looked around- "ah, sports player."
"Oh, I know," Frankie said, amused, "that's how I figured it out. That article of Rita's. You think I didn't recognize my own brother, even if his head was covered up? That, and his mood swings. I mean, he's always been a moody bastard but I caught him one day digging through the family jewels and whistling. Er, not a euphemism."
Katie laughed reluctantly. Part of her was sickened, not wanting to listen, and part of her was hanging on every syllable. That part was the sad little pathetic part of her. What did she want? Frankie to reveal that Montague really cared for her? That there was some explanation for his lies that wasn't terrible?
"Of course I figured that out too when I saw the jewels on you a week later," Frankie continued, "but before that. He was whistling one minute, drinking the next. I caught him reading a book on Montague family genealogy one day."
"What?" Katie said, baffled, but Cher screeching about believing in life after love drowned her out.
"Another time," Frankie continued, "I saw him smuggling a book on wizarding law out of the family library. I visited him in his flat one day, and not only was his closet full of brand new Muggle clothes, but he had a shelf full of Muggle books."
"What kind?" Kate yelled over the electronica, vaguely wriggling her body around, trying to feign utter disinterest. She'd let her mates talk her into something tarty, so she'd pulled out the electric blue lace mini-dress Alicia had foisted upon her those months ago. She wasn't particularly keen on giving Frankie much more of a show.
"Weird stuff," Frankie assured her, "Muggle biology, for one."
"So, biology," Katie muttered. One day, wizards would realize the biology was fucking identical, and then their little pea minded bigot brains would explode.
"There's no chapter on the effects of magic on the body," Frankie contradicted, "so, it's a Muggle biology book. Have you forgotten I'm not as ignorant as Graham?"
"No, as it's not possible to be as ignorant as him," Katie quipped. That was also a lie. She knew many pure-bloods who wouldn't have been able to blend in those Muggle clubs and pubs and historical sites like Montague had. "Although now that I think about it, have you been the one teaching him to pretend to be a Muggle?"
"Why, is he convincing?" Frankie said, looking surprised.
"I hate to ever be nice about him, but yes," Katie said, "most of the time. Not around my parents though. He asked if Muggles drink blood!"
Frankie laughed loudly.
"Is it your fault he showed up at my flat to ask me and Isadore about computer graphics?" he asked over the strains of the Spice Girls starting up.
"No, my dads," Katie said gloomily.
"Well, I'd rarely seen him so fired up," Frankie said, "he ran over to the telly, poked at it. Said something about a sawyer getting eaten by a T-Rex."
"Jurassic Park," Katie mumbled.
"Oh, I love that movie!" Frankie said with enthusiasm, "Professor Burbage showed it to us!"
"Did she?" Katie asked.
"Yeah, before she…you know. Did you really kill one of the blokes who killed her?"
"No," Katie said, "I mean I did, kind of. I killed him. Selwyn. But he watched Professor Burbage die, he didn't actually kill her himself."
"Still," Frankie said, looking satisfied, "I knew I liked you. You should meet Isadore. I think you'd get along. You don't have a problem with Americans, do you?"
"Why would I?" Katie asked, surprised. Next to them, Christopher and Quiggly were getting along famously with her mates. Yet another tentacle of Montague's insinuating itself into her life, making it more difficult when she'd eventually have to hack him out.
"I dunno," Frankie said, looking suddenly gloomy, "ask my family."
"Buck up," Katie said, "they hate me worse, don't they?"
"Probably," Frankie admitted, "but that's only cause Graham is the favorite. So he's even more of a disappointment for not being married already. And to double down and date a Muggleborn…A Gryffindor Muggleborn…maybe ex lover of Harry Potter…"
"Don't," Katie groaned "not you too."
"Hey, I think he's a much better choice than my brother," Frankie said, grinning.
"On that, we agree," Katie said.
"So tell me," Frankie said, "why is my brother reading books on Muggle biology and Muggle queens and football?"
"I asked him to stop being so ignorant after we visited my parents," Katie admitted.
"I thought he visited your parents a few days ago," Frankie said, "I helped him pick out a teapot and everything. Of course he ignored my advice to get a normal one and got one with rubies. Git."
"Yeah," Katie said, "it was a few days ago."
"Well, he's been reading those random Muggle books for weeks," Frankie shrugged.
Something embarrassing leapt inside Katie.
"Weird," she said after too long of a pause. She did a half hearted twirl, "I…that's weird."
"So that wasn't you?" Frankie persisted, "huh. And he's been going to Muggle places for a year, at least. You haven't been shagging him that long, have you?"
"No," Katie said, "and it was once, okay? I was being stupid." She left out the part where it had been multiple times in one night.
"You still haven't answered," Frankie said, "I was dying to know why you were dating my brother at all before I met you, and then I saw you two at dinner and assumed it was lust, but now you're saying you're not even shagging him. So what gives? It's clear you see what an arse he really is. Congrats, my mother is delusional about him."
"He's her son, I suppose," Katie grimaced.
"So am I," Frankie said bluntly, "so is Chris. That doesn't stop her from being awful to us. But then again, we aren't the golden son."
For one wild second, Katie almost told him the truth. That she was toying with Montague in a demented plan to save her own reputation, or something, but then it had gone wrong and now maybe she kind of liked him and hated him all at once. Then she came to her senses. For all she knew, Frankie was Montague drinking Polyjuice.
"It was lust," she lied, "you were right." But then again, maybe it was the only true thing Katie had said all night.
"So what do you make of all that?" Katie asked, nervously fiddling with a slice of bacon.
"Which part?" Ange said, swirling her celery in her bloody Mary, "the part where you admit you banged Montague due to lust—"
"I didn't," Katie said, "I was ly—"
"Or the part where you had fun with Montague's brothers voogeeng to Cher?"
"Voguing," Katie said, her eyes darting to where Edith was bringing out a plate of full English breakfast to the table next to them, "which, one, you do to Madonna, not Cher, and only if she's singing "Vogue". And two—"
"What I want to know," Alicia said, "is why your mates let you off the hook so easily?"
"Easily?" Katie squawked, "I got asked about a hundred times why I was banging Montague, including by his own brothers. Quiggly at least said 'he's allegedly hot, who wouldn't,' and let it go."
"But still," Alicia persisted, "they saw him act like a total arse, and then they were like, oh well Katie, have fun shagging a jerk?"
"Alicia," Ange said, stirring her drink more vigorously, "be fair. They don't have the history with him we do. And he was nice to them most of the night when they met him."
"Still," Alicia sighed, "I wanted to hear how they were worried about your mental faculties after you—"
"I was asking," Katie said, now doubly irritated, "your thoughts on why you think Montague has been living like a Muggle for fun for a year now."
"Oh, that," Alicia said, waving a hand with a suspicious giant ruby ring on it, "bah. That's tired. We've been wondering that since the start."
"I want to know why he's lying and saying he's keeping his trap shut about sleeping with you, Katie," Ange said, "if his brothers know all about it."
"Frankie claimed he figured it out himself," Katie said uncomfortably, wondering why she was defending Montague when he was a known liar and arsehole.
Both her friends snorted.
"Who else has he told, I wonder?" Ange said, doom in her voice.
She'd forgiven Katie for the dirty move during their game, but then Rita had written a long, creepy article about how George was going to propose with a ring Fred had picked out for his wedding to Ange. It was all lies, Fred had never even wanted to get married, thought it was all a joke, and George was more inclined to propose with a ring that turned you into a neon kitten, but it hadn't stopped the snide comments and screeching Howlers.
"Oh, everyone," Alicia said with confidence, "Pucey, he was smirking his head off at you every time I saw him, Katie. Warrington, probably. Flint knows. Higgs. Maybe—"
"Okay I get it," Katie said, her stomach roiling. She dropped the bacon. It was normal, having sex. Nothing wrong with it. Why did she feel so ashamed?
"I agree with Alicia," Ange said, "so why are you still doing this? really, now, think carefully. It's over, Katie. He's told everyone. You know that now. It's in the papers, enough clues so that everyone you care about has figured it out. Your parents met him. You slept with him once, but everyone thinks you're still sleeping with him. So why are you continuing this charade? And don't say because he will give a story to Rita about you in bed!"
Katie closed her mouth, wilting.
"He probably would talk to the press," Alicia said, picking up a danish, "let's be honest."
"No he won't,'' Ange said, "I saw how he looks at you. He won't."
Something shivered down Katie's spine.
"What does that mean?" she said.
"It means Montague has got it bad for you," Alicia jumped in again, "so he won't do something as awful as talk about your orgasms to Rita."
"Oh god," Katie yelped, grabbing the pitcher of mimosas.
"So why are you still doing all this?" Ange persisted.
"You're wrong," Katie said, her hand shaking a little, "and even if you were right…let's say he did like me a lot. And then I dump him. You're telling me he won't run to the papers in revenge?"
"Slight flaw in your plan since the start," Alicia said, arching a brow.
"He's going to ruin your life no matter what you do," Ange said, her voice the embodiment of a thundercloud wrapped in a shroud.
Katie's hands shook harder. She put down the glass.
"Fine," she said, "alright. You want the truth? I think I like him. There. Does that make you happy?"
Both of her friends stared at her with identical expressions of surprise and pity. "What?' she snapped, "isn't that what you were insinuating, Ange? Well it's true. I like him. I like spending time with him. Sometimes. Not all the time. Part of me wants to shag him again."
Alicia clutched at herself. Ange whimpered. Katie, by contrast, was terrified, and exhilarated. She was finally admitting it out loud.
"I want him to be my boyfriend," she said, "for real. My real boyfriend. I want my parents to like him, and my friends to like him, and his parents to like me, and for him to wear a glittery Mr. Katie Bell shirt to my games. I want him to be nice and support me and make me laugh."
The pity on her friends faces was like a stab to the heart.
"But I can't have that," Katie pushed on, "can I?"
"No," Ange said sadly.
"Oh, Katie," Alicia sighed, "you poor thing. How could you forget what a lying piece of shite he is?"
"I didn't," Katie said, feeling of all horrible things tears behind her eyes, "and I still like him and hate him all at once. What do you think about that?"
"I think you should go for it," Ange said, shocking them both, "we hate him, sure, but you don't. Life is short. Don't have regrets."
A shadow crossed her face, and the ghost of Fred Weasley lingered once again.
"What have you got to lose?"
But as it turned out, it was the worst advice Angelina Johnson had ever given.
Author's Note: Thank you all for all the well wishes! Hope you enjoyed.
