Chapter Seventeen: Theodore Nott and his Leprechauns

There was always something disastrous about the DA reunions. They usually began as a riotous affair, where everyone danced and drank and ate and hugged and pretended like the DA was the greatest time of their lives. About two hours in, they would slowly stop pretending, and it would turn maudlin. Parvati would mention Lavender, perhaps. Someone would ask Dennis if he'd brought a book of Colin's photographs, and they would all pass it around, laughing over the most unflattering shots of them all that Colin had managed without anyone noticing. A particular favorite was one where Harry was drooling on a Quidditch robe while Oliver waved his arms about with a deranged gleam in his eye at a chart of Quidditch maneuvers.

Then they'd talk about their dead loved ones, all except George, of course, who'd usually use that excuse to leave, blind drunk, saying he had to do something at the store whenever Lee would start to tell Fred's greatest moments in mischief making history.

Then it would descend further, and someone might bring up Marietta Edgecomb, or Zacharias Smith, or they'd talk about the night they'd been caught, or everyone would suddenly remember that Dean, Michael, and Harry had all dated Ginny, and two of the same boys had dated Cho as well. The night would end with various boys wrestling drunkenly, Ron cheering them on the sidelines, or else the boys weeping while the girls got aggressively drunker, or everyone silently drinking in pain.

It was horrible, and it was beautiful, and it was cathartic all at once, and Katie dreaded the twice yearly reunion and looked forward to it in equal measure. Usually, that was.

"I'll wear it, Katie," Dennis Creevey said enthusiastically, waving about the bright neon shirt with a glittery Harpy claw on it, "thanks! Got one with your name on it?"

"I can charm it on," Cho offered, "if you don't have one with your name, that is."

"Great idea!" Dennis said. "Thanks a lot, Cho!"

"Can I get a glitter one too?" Cho smiled.

"Sure can," Katie said, rummaging in her pile for a blue shirt to honor Cho's Ravenclaw allegiance.

"Er, do you want Bell on it as well?" Katie said, "or Jones, maybe?"

"Definitely not Weasley," George said, his words slurring already, "that would be weird, eh?"

"For the last time," Cho sighed, "I don't care that they are dating!"

"No, but my sister cares that you used to date," George whispered a little too loudly.

Dennis started singing the latest Weird Sisters song to drown him out. No one wanted a Ginny drunken strop.

"Still?" Cho said wearily, "really?"

"We should make a diagram," George said, hanging on Lee, both of whom already had a Harpies hoodie on, "all the ways we've all dated each other."

"George," Katie groaned, "stop. Ange is being a good sport as it is. Don't push it."

Ange and Alicia had taken a look at all the Harpies gear Katie and Ginny were foisting on their mates with various degrees of amusement.

"So no one gets to be a Kestrel, eh?" Ange said.

"Or a Wasp," Alicia had added, "well, we're losers anyway, better luck for us next yeah, eh?" and she'd taken the rainbow glitter shirt with a wink, stripping off her regular shirt in front of everyone while Terry Boot yelped and Ernie gawked.

"You'd think Ernie hadn't seen them before," Ange had murmured, "in the flesh, even." But she'd asked for a shirt as well with a wry smile. "You're getting us all tickets then, Katie?"

"Uh, yeah," Katie said, thinking fast.

Well this was Jones's plan. She better have a way to follow through with it.

"Cool," Dennis said, "I'll take pictures! Maybe The Prophet will buy some." Dennis had taken up Colin's hobby with the same zeal he took up most of Colin's hobbies, and freelanced for various papers and magazines.

"As long as you don't sell one to Rita Skeeter," Katie said gloomily.

"Never," Dennis vowed.

"Katie," Padma Patil said as she rummaged through the brightly colored shirts with enthusiasm, "where's your man? I so wanted to see him again."

"Who cares," Katie said, and when Padma paused in surprise she added, "er, I mean, he wasn't...I didn't invite him. It's DA only, right?"

It was a rule they'd all decided on ages ago, to not invite anyone but the original members, sans Zacharias and Marietta.

"Yes, true," Padma said, "shame, he was always so nice."

Ange choked on a crisp.

"Er, what?" Katie said, then she remembered Padma was a Ravenclaw. "To you, I suppose."

Unbidden, she thought for the millionth time about Tatiana Prewett. It had not even taken ten seconds after Helena Montague had left before Alicia had frantically owled Dennis and Hermione for any information on Tatiana, while Katie tried to stop her.

"I don't care!" she kept howling, even as she felt her eyeballs trying to sweat and shame her, "I don't care if he's engaged!"

"Dennis is discreet!" Alicia had howled back as they wrestled, "so is Hermione! I can't remember her, let me-ow, stop pulling my hair, Katie!"

It had barely taken an hour before Dennis had sent back a whole folder of photos via his owl, Gorgi, of a beautiful raven haired, green eyed girl with a tiny waist and perfect breasts and face. Hermione had taken longer, but her ten foot scroll was highly informative. Tatiana Prewett was Molly Weasley's second cousin. She was twenty years old, a former Slytherin, fabulously wealthy and well connected, and mysteriously unmarried for all of that. She wasn't particularly close to her Weasley relations, but also wasn't known for being an enormous snob like most pure-bloods.

"How is she rich if she's related to your mum?" Alicia had asked Geroge, who'd arrived with Ange after his shift at the store.

"Mum was better off before she married dad," George shrugged, "also, it was her Great Uncle that was the heir to the family. Tatiana's granddad. She's an only child."

"Do you know her, then?" Ange said, pouring Katie another glass of wine. Somewhere, Jones was probably twitching in anger and not knowing why.

"Not well," George said, "you know we don't do all that pure-blood nonsense. Galas and dinners and such. And Mum's family has never particularly liked us."

"I thought you were going to pure-blood events," Katie contradicted, "to get statues built and stuff." George's eyes shifted a bit. "You have met her!" she said, sitting up fast, her head spinning, "don't lie!"

"I never said I hadn't," George said indignantly, "I said I don't know her well. Don't worry, Katie. You're way better than her. Anyone can see that."

"Who's worried," Katie said, a wild sort of laugh escaping her, "who cares? I don't want to marry that arsehole. You know that."

They all nodded.

"We know," Ange said soothingly, "George is just letting you know there's no reason to feel bad, is all."

"Why would I feel bad?" Katie demanded, "I don't care about him. We're using each other."

Too late, she remembered she'd idiotically confided in Ange and Alicia her wish that Montague could be her boyfriend for real.

"What I don't understand," Alicia said, generously overlooking Katie's shame, "is why we haven't heard about this at all," she was pacing in her fluffy knicker set, drinking from her wine glass. "I mean, it's been in the papers. If she was his fiance, wouldn't she have heard the rumor? Wouldn't she know he brought Katie to his mother's birthday dinner? Wouldn't she be going with him to the Bletchley's charity ball? It doesn't make sense."

"Maybe his mum was making it up," Ange suggested, "to get a rise out of Katie. Make her feel bad."

"I don't think you all understand," George said, grabbing a serving of the curry he'd brought over for them all, "how stupid pure-blood culture is, I mean. The type the Montague's are. They could be engaged and have never even met. She wouldn't expect him to be faithful to her, especially now. She might not even like him."

"So he's sowing his oats with me," Katie said flatly. She took another large sip of wine, her head spinning. With her other hand, she clutched Miss Sunshine.

"Well, we never actually thought he meant anything serious by it," George said, "going about with you."

"George," Ange hissed.

"What?" George said, looking confused, "right? I mean, we know what he's like. That's why we came up with a plan and everything."

"How have I never heard of her," Alicia said, pacing faster, "when I've heard of that Fawley girl, and Cassiopeia Warrington, and Junipa Urquhart-"

"If she's off the market, that's why," George explained, "plus she's not quite as entrenched in that set. Hermione says here a lot of her friends are Ravenclaws," he waved about Hermione's detailed notes.

"But she's not been in the papers," Alicia persisted, "debutantes are always in the papers. Especially one as pretty as-" she cut herself off swiftly, after a guilty look at Katie.

Katie felt like vomiting yet again. She'd known better. Why had she ever listened to Percy? She should've just listened to Alicia and broken into Montague's flat for her knickers, and denied anything he said in the press about her as a lie. Or moved to Cambodia. That would've worked.

"That's it," Katie said flatly, "game over. This makes things easy at least. I mean sure, no decent guy will ever date me again-"

"Don't say that," George said at once, "what do you think about Dean? I mean sure he snogged my sister, which is disgusting, but-"

"Like Dean wants Montague's leftovers," Katie said gloomily, "he can do way better." She put down the wine glass to better grab the entire bottle.

"You better not have just referred to yourself as leftovers," George said ominously, "besides, you're dumping Montague. He's your leftovers. Tatiana Prewett is welcome to him."

"Yeah," Katie agreed, thinking of her parents, who'd owled another hint for that Star Wars marathon, and another invitation from her dad for Montague and Frankie to join him at the upcoming renaissance fair in June. Well, at least her mum would be expecting this crash and burn in her relationship.

"Now everyone calm down," Ange said, "we don't even know if they're really engaged. Katie, don't do anything rash. Owl him that you want to meet to talk."

"Jones said not to," Katie said mulishly, "I can only go to the DA reunion. And the Bletchleys' charity ball. Which, fuck that."

"No, come," George disagreed, "with me and Ange. I'll angle for that statue of Fred to be erected at their boys club. Whaddayacallit. The Shivering Grindylow." Katie flinched.

"Over my dead body am I going to the Bletchley's," Ange said indignantly.

"Okay, I'll escort Katie then," George said, "wear something like that purple dress. Make Montague fling himself off a balcony since you don't want him. It will be fantastic!"

"She's not dumping him," Ange said severely.

"What?'' George said, "why not? That's the whole point, wasn't it? You get him into you, yeah, and then you dump him and break his heart. Bonus that you can blame it on his mum if he complains about it. That, and his sham betrothal."

"Let's dig up some dirt on Tatiana Prewett," Alica said with relish, "sell that to the papers. Maybe she's got a third nipple?"

"George, she's not dumping Montague, without even talking to him about this," Ange said, ignoring Alicia, "this could easily be a misunderstanding."

George looked between the three women like they had twelve heads apiece.

"Why would she not be dumping-"

"Because I like him," Katie admitted, now so drunk she had stopped caring about her own dignity, "okay?"

George went whiter than she'd ever seen him. Well. Aside from that obvious time that was never talked about. His freckles stood out in contrast.

"I've got a love potion antidote," he said seriously, "I keep one on me at all times now. Drink it."

"George," Ange snapped.

"Fine," Katie sighed, "it's fine, Ange." She drank it. It was terrible.

"Come to your senses?" George prompted.

"No," Katie said, "I still like him. I know he's an arse. I know he had a bet about getting with me. I know he's called me a Mudblood. I know all that. I still like him."

"Satisfied, George?" Ange said.

"No," George said, "they're always making new love potions, you know. On the black market. New stuff that's impervious to-"

"I like him!" Katie shouted, making them all jump, "I can't help it! I don't want him to be engaged to Tatiana Prewett!"

"He's not," Alicia said soothingly, "I'm sure of it. We would've heard about it! Let's ask Pucey."

"Why, he'll just lie," George said, still white faced.

"Why don't we just ask Montague," Ange said, "you know, since it's his mother that-"

"Why, he'll just lie," George repeated.

"Have you got a better plan, then?" Katie asked, "other than obliviating me?

"Yes," George said confidently, "someone can go undercover for us."

"Who?" Katie said, "What? How?"

"No," Ange said, looking alarmed, "George, no."

"Yes," George said with relish.

"Who?" Alicia and Katie repeated together.

"Theodore Nott," George said triumphantly.

"Not just to me," Padma said, drawing Katie out of her miserable reverie about George's insane plan, "Montague was always nice to loads of people."

"Maybe you met one of his brothers," Katie said, "and got confused."

Padma laughed. "I know, it's Gryffindor and Slytherin nonsense," she said, "but really, he wasn't so bad in school. He's gotten bloody cute, too."

"I know," Katie sighed.

"You sound thrilled about it," Cho quipped.

"He knows how hot he is now," Katie said gloomily.

"Oh," Cho grimaced, "ugh. I hate that." A faraway look came to her eye. Katie pictured Cedric Diggory. He'd been the cutest boy in school. And he somehow hadn't known it. Poor Cho.

"Confidence is nice," Padma contradicted.

"Confidence is," Katie said, "arrogance is not." She cast about desperately for a change of subject. "Anyone going to the Bletchley charity ball? George is trying to talk me into it."

"Wow," Padma said, "you got invited? It's one of the most exclusive events of the year."

"Lucky me," Katie muttered.

"You should go," Dennis said unexpectedly, "there's been talk of doing something for Colin. In memorial, you know."

Katie felt something tighten in her chest.

"He always liked you," Dennis said, like Katie didn't know, "he thought you were funny. And er. Pretty."

"He was a great guy," Katie said. On the other side of the room, she could see the maudlin turn had commenced all over. Parvati was crying on Hermione about Lavender. Lee was drunkenly shouting about Fred's greatest hits. Ernie was weeping into a plate of mashed potatoes for some reason.

"He was," Dennis said wistfully, "the best big brother you could ask for."

"I'll go," Katie said, glad they'd gotten pictures taken and quotes about the Harpies written by the reporters she'd invited before the weeping and drinking singing had started. "What do you want for him, Dennis? A statue?"

"You'll think of something," Dennis said, "it would mean more coming from you."

Katie forced a smile. "I'll do my best," she said, forcing all selfish thoughts of Montague and Tatiana Prewett and Thedore Nott from her mind. There were more important things in life. Quidditch cups for one. And life sized golden statues of heroic teenage boys for another.


Theodore Nott, it turned out, was a Slytherin pure-blood in Harry's year at Hogwarts who had a convicted Death Eater for a father but had denounced his family's practices some years before.

"He's all right for a former Slytherin," George had told Katie grudgingly, which for George was high praise indeed, "he's been friends with Harry and Ron for ages now. He works in the Department of Mysteries."

"How come I've never heard of him?" Katie had demanded.

"Well, he is an Unspeakable," George had said, "they don't, y'know. Get spoken of."

"And you trust him why?" Katie had asked, "and why would he help me? And how? And all of this is a bad idea. Have I mentioned Hellman's mother apparently had an affair with Pucey's father and that's why he hates her?"

"What!" Alicia had screamed, "but she's a Muggle! How does he even know her?"

And that had successfully derailed all lunatic conversations about Theodore Nott. Or so Katie had thought.

She walked out of practice, wincing heavily, as they had been flying sixteen hours a day the past three days as Jones shouted at them in increasingly hoarse tones.

"Two matches!" she kept screaming, "two matches and that cup is ours!" And they'd all fly faster.

Jones had been thrilled with the gooey press coverage the DA reunion had garnered the Harpies, and it helped that the members of the DA had been going out to popular places in glittery Harpies shirts emblazoned with "Bell" and "Weasley" on the back of them. They had sold out of all their merchandise for the first time ever, Jones had told the pair of them, a deranged gleam in her eye that recalled Oliver Wood, a rare smile on her face, and were charming more merchandise for sale as fast as possible.

Not to be outdone, Hellman had been photographed in a series of staged bikini shots on the day of the DA reunion, garnering more press for the Harpies about their sexy backup Chaser and the practices that had gotten her such a rock hard body. Shelley had worked at a charity event, Juliet had unveiled a new potion she'd been working on for Quidditch induced calluses, and Jones herself had thrown an enormous party for half the league that had only gotten second billing to the DA reunion in all the gossip mags. As it was, Jones was thrilled with all of them. And showing that love by them by running them ragged at every practice.

Katie limped along, wondering if she could talk someone into giving her a back massage, thought of Montague, and felt sick that she'd wanted to see him.

"Katie?" The boy who'd been standing by the fence called out to her.

"Yes?" she said cautiously. He wasn't a boy, really, more of a young man. Very tall, brown hair and eyes, attractive yet slightly odd looking, a little too hunched in his posture.

"It's me," the boy said, glancing around to see if anyone saw.

"Huh?" Katie said stupidly. Maybe it was the exhaustion talking, but she could've sworn she'd never seen this boy before in her life. He sighed, looking like this happened to him all the time.

"Theodore Nott," he prompted. "I'm helping you-"

"George actually contacted you?" Katie hissed, her eyes darting around. If Jones saw her getting distracted by someone else! She might get beaten with a broom.

"Ron, actually," Nott said, "listen, can we go somewhere else to talk? I don't fancy being in a Rita Skeeter article."

"Don't worry," Katie said, "apparently Montague is blackmailing her to keep my business out of the papers."

"Is he?" Nott said, "not well, I'd say."

"It could be worse," Katie said gloomily.

"Yeah," Nott said, "like, Katie Bell spotted with the notorious Slytherin son of Death Eater, two timing her boyfriend."

There was a beat.

"I see your point," Katie admitted, "I'll meet you at er, Painted Beans," she said, the first place that jumped into her brain. "It's a-"

"Trendy coffee shop in Muggle London," Nott said, "near a nice park. Sure. See you there in ten."

"Is there a reason you couldn't have just owled me this?" Katie asked.

"Would you have believed it was really me, if you didn't see me in person?" Nott asked reasonably.

"I don't even know who you are," Katie admitted.

"I know," Nott said, and then he smiled. He was more handsome when he smiled. "No one does. That's why I'm good at what I do." Before Katie could reply, he vanished, almost as if he'd Disapparated, without the telltale crack.

"Show-off," Katie grumbled, but she still walked into Painted Beans ten minutes later, praying she wouldn't run into Nate and be reminded how he'd never called her again. Not that she wanted him. But rejection was never fun.

"Katie," Nott said, waving her over, his plain black t-shirt fitting the atmosphere far better then Katie's rainbow Harpies shirt she's charmed into looking like a unicorn instead in case any Muggles got suspicious.

"Nice shirt," a girl said, proving Katie wrong immediately, "super cute. Where did you get it?"

"Er," Katie hedged, "um, my dad made it." The unicorn sparkled.

Wow," The girl said. She had a green and blue mohawk. Katie felt cooler just breathing the same air as her, "that's talent."

"Thanks," Katie said, shuffling her feet. Why was she avoiding talking to Nott, now? Was it because she didn't want to hear the truth about Montague's engagement?

"Katie," Nott said again, waving his arm. He had two drinks in front of him. One looked like a rainbow milkshake. Katie blinked.

"What on Earth is that?" she asked, pointing. The milkshake had little tiny unicorns that were pink in it.

"Thought you'd like it," Nott shrugged, "a strawberry mocha frappe with unicorn sprinkles."

Katie sat down across from Nott and took a sip. It was the best drink of her life.

"How did you know?" she asked, resigned.

"It's my job to know things," Nott said simply. He was at least helping her dignity by drinking a green coffee milkshake with little pots of gold in it.

"Well that's not creepy," Katie grumped, "listen, how do I know you're really Theodore Nott? and that you're friends with Ron and Harry and George?"

"You don't," Nott said, "you're a little too trusting. I could've drugged that drink, for example."

Katie choked.

"I didn't," Nott assured her.

"So a liar would say," Katie sighed, then took another sip anyway.

Death by poison still sounded better than the mess she was in. If she'd found out six months ago that Graham Montague was engaged to some Slytherin pureblood heiress she wouldn't have thought twice about it. And now every time she thought about Tatiana Prewett it was like someone had stabbed her in the stomach with a shard of ice. She had kept looking at the pictures of the girl Dennis had sent. She was beautiful beyond belief, like a man's idea of the perfect woman come to life. Katie had pictured Tatiana snogging Montague. It had gotten worse, she'd seen Tatiana marrying him, his family happily looking on, thrilled that he hadn't stayed with that Muggle trollop and shamed them all. What the hell was wrong with her? She didn't want to marry Montague anyway. She didn't want to marry anyone.

"So you want to know why I'm sleeping with Montague, I expect," Katie said after another delicious sip of her childish drink.

"Though you weren't," Nott said, "that's what I've heard, anyway."

Katie froze. "From where? How is it you're able to go undercover for me, anyway? And why would you, while I'm at it?"

"I'm a member at The Shivering Grindylow," Nott said, "not my proudest achievement, but it comes in handy."

"And Montague is telling everyone I fucked him there, is that it?" Katie said.

"The opposite," Nott said, "have you slept with him? He's claiming otherwise."

For a moment, Katie was sure she misheard.

"He's...repeat that," she said, sucking her milkshake so fast her brain froze even worse than usual.

"I said, have you slept with him," Nott said slowly, like she was a little challenged, "because he's claiming you're not. He said you're... er."

"What?" Katie demanded.

"Playing hard to get," Nott coughed. He took a sip of the green coffee shake. "Wow, this is good. Excellent choice of place, Bell. I mean aside from the fact that you went on a date with that Muggle bloke here, of course."

"I am not playing hard to get," Katie said through her teeth, "and how did you know about…" she trailed off. "Montague told you, I presume. When he had Sassy stalking me."

"Yep," Nott shrugged, "gone out with him again, then? The Muggle bloke. Poor Graham has been obsessing over that quite a bit."

"Why doesn't he just have Sassy follow me again?" Katie said nastily.

"He apparently told you it was an accident she was following you," Nott shrugged," which, it might've been. I guess he feels bad doing it deliberately this time, so he hasn't asked her."

"That's likely," Katie scoffed, "him growing a conscience. And no, I haven't been on another date with Nate." She didn't need to elaborate as to why. Montague was bloody engaged. Who was he to talk? "Listen, I thought you all thought I'd shagged him. I mean that's what Flint thinks."

"Flint's not one of us," Nott said, "he's just screwing with you."

"And you are one of them?" Katie said, "who is them? I really need answers here, Nott."

"So do I," Nott said, "are you telling me you have slept with Graham? And he's still this moody?"

"Is he moody?" Katie said, dodging the question. This was the second Slytherin who had recently told her about Montague's moodiness. On the other hand, It wasn't like she hadn't witnessed his moodiness first hand.

"Unbearable, even for him," Nott confirmed, "really, you've done a number on him."

"I didn't do anything," Katie said, feeling herself blush. Dammit!

"But you did shag him?" Nott persisted.

"I want to know why he's telling you all that I haven't," Katie said.

"Search me," Nott shrugged, "well, I guess this makes sense. Whenever he's in a good mood I suppose you've just shagged him. And then his bad mood must be because-"

"It was once," Katie blurted, "one night, I mean. Not-it's not an ongoing…"

Nott had both of his eyebrows up.

"What I mean is," Katie backtracked, "it's not like we're still…"

"Katie," Nott said, "it isn't the sixteen hundreds. It's fine. I actually thought it was weirder that you weren't shagging him."

"Aren't you a pure-blood?" Katie said, "one of the most pure-blood of pure-bloods, in fact? More than Montague's family? According to your family, that is."

One time, when George had been particularly drunk, he'd produced a copy of Cantankerous Nott's treatise on the "Sacred Twenty-Eight" pure-bloods in the wizarding world. They'd all looked it and laughed before George had mimed wiping his bum with it. Then they'd laughed harder. Montague's family hadn't been on it.

"Speaking of," Katie said, yammering on due to anxiety and the fact that she'd just told Nott she'd fucked Montague, "I always wondered. How is it Montague is a pure-blood and yet not party of the Sacred-"

"Oh, that rubbish," Nott sighed. "Well, good old Cantankerous had odd judgements on what was a pure-blood and what was not. For instance, imagine you had a great-great-grandmother who was a squib. That took you off the list. Or perhaps six generations back you had a Muggleborn marry into the family and the pure-blood spouse didn't get disowned. Also eliminated you from his sacred list. He was ridiculous, like most of the Notts. Cantankerous, I mean. And my father." Nott pulled a face, and it became clearer to Katie why he was friends with Ron and Harry now. She had been wondering.

"So Montague's family…?" Katie prompted.

"Oh, I think his family has produced a few squibs," Nott shrugged, "and I think there's a Muggleborn marriage a few generations back. So by most reasonable people's standards, he's a pure-blood. Hundreds of wizards, and one Muggleborn marrying into the family which didn't end with a disownment? And a squib is a person born to wizards and witches, so that part is just ridiculous. But to folks like Cantankerous, and the Blacks, and the Malfoys, and the Dark Lord…and my father, of course."

"And it didn't bother your father that Voldemort was a Half-Blood?" Katie said, curious, after a quick glance around. No one was within earshot.

"You'd be surprised at how easily hypocrisy comes to people like my father and Lucius Malfoy," Nott said, grimacing at Malfoy's name.

"Does it make you mad he escaped going back to Azkaban?" Katie said. She had just remembered that Nott's father had died in Azkaban the year before. He'd been pushing eighty, it was true, but Lucius Malfoy was out living his life as usual, barely feeling any blowback for his role in the second war. And his role in the first, come to think on it.

"Well you just saved me a lot of explaining," Nott said, "I thought we'd spend ages discussing why I didn't follow my family's usual nonsense."

"Hypocrisy," Katie nodded, "not a fan either. Speaking of, how are you friends with Montague?"

"He's not so bad," Nott shrugged, "not like Malfoy or Goyle or Pansy."

Katie was forced to concede the point.

"So why are you helping me?" Katie asked, "I don't understand that part."

"Why not?" Nott said. Katie stared at him. "Okay," Nott said, and he smiled that smile that made him handsome again, "not enough? Well, Graham is one of my closest friends. He's been the happiest I've ever seen him lately. And also the most miserable. On top of that, Ron asked, and he's my mate."

"So," Katie said, taking a deep breath, "what's going on, then?"

"He is engaged," Nott said, not even giving her time to prepare herself, "to Tatiana Prewett, I mean."

"I assumed that's who you meant," Katie said. She'd been prepared, but it still felt like a literal slap to the face. "And he didn't think to mention that to me?"

Why would he, her mind sneered at her, you're just his Muggle plaything until he gets his proper bride.

"Well you have to understand," Nott said, "I mean, I know it's hard. Pure-blood culture is so...er...regressive."

"That's a kind word for it," Katie said. She needed to hear this. She needed to cut out the cancerous tumor from her life that was Graham Montague.

"He doesn't want to marry her," Nott said, "I swear, he doesn't. That's why he hasn't told you. He has no plans to marry Tatiana."

"Oh I'm sure," Katie said acidly, "what's not to like?"

With difficulty, she stopped herself from waxing on about Tatiana Prewett's perfect breasts and face and body and hair and blood stature and wealth. It wouldn't do for Nott to run back to Montague and report all this, and then for them to laugh at her and her jealousy. More than they already were, anyway.

"A lot," Nott told her, "she's pretty dull, actually. Just because she's beautiful, doesn't mean a lot isn't to like about her, Katie."

"Of course not," Katie said, still with a note of heavy sarcasm in her voice, "who wants a beautiful wife?"

"You're beautiful," Nott said, taking a sip of his milkshake. It was said so matter of factly Katie wasn't sure she'd heard him.

"Er, pardon?" she said.

"I said, you're beautiful," Nott repeated, "and you're interesting."

Embarrassingly, she felt herself blush. She was cute and all, but beautiful? She was no Tatiana Prewett, after all.

"And forbidden," Katie said hastily, to cover her blush, "How rebellious of Montague to fuck me. I'm sure he'll come to his senses."

Dammit, why was she sounding so pathetic in front of a boy who had told her to her face that Montague was a close friend of his? Of course he'd run and tell Montague everything she was saying!

"Not that I care," Katie added, "it's just a bit of fun for me. I was meaning to break it off for ages now." She took a casual sip of her unicorn milkshake, glancing up at Nott to gauge his reaction.

"No," he blurted, "you can't."

"Why not?" Katie said, "Now this is just rude to poor Tatiana. His mother is harassing me now. I've got other things on my mind. He's making my life a nuisance."

"Don't worry," Nott said at once, "I'll tell him, and he'll get his mother to leave you alone. No problem."

"He doesn't know?" Katie said, "that she told me?"

"Not yet," Nott told her, "I thought you knew that. If he'd have known, he would've shown up at once to your apartment, Jones's orders be damned. He'd have bought you tons of stuff, taken you to Rome or something-"

"So throw his father's money at me," Katie said, "surprise, surprise. Well, save it for Tatiana's dowry. Tell him that."

"I told you," Nott said, "he doesn't want to marry her. It's not a secret, honestly Katie I thought you knew. Graham probably thought you knew. He's open about it. You should hear how he talks about her at The Shivering Grindylow. He's been trying to get out of it for the past year."
Suddenly, everything clicked into place. All the weird comments from his friends, the strange behavior from Montague, the way she had known the whole time that he was lying and hiding things from her.

"And he found a way," Katie said, "publicly dating me."

"No," Nott said, now looking very alarmed, red in his cheeks, "that's not what I'm-"

"Of course that's what's happening," Katie scoffed, "he ran into me at that club, and he thought, oh here it is, the way to get out of my engagement. Dressing up like a Muggle and prancing around Muggle London didn't work, being rude to my snobby parents didn't work, well now I'm fucking a Muggleborn and rubbing it in everyone's face. And not just any Muggleborn. A Gryffindor. Friend of Harry Potter. Poor and classless. Not only will that enrage my parents, but Tatiana won't want to marry me either."

"That's not-"

"And apparently that wasn't enough, so he added in getting in the papers with me, making sure to bring me to a family dinner, spending a ton of daddy's money on me-"

"He likes you," Nott protested, "you don't understand. He likes you a lot."

"Oh I'm sure," Katie said, suddenly wishing desperately that coffee shops sold alcoholic drinks. Or that she'd brought a flask. She needed to break down and buy one. Or steal one from her father. One that wasn't an Egyptian bust, of course.

"He does like you," Nott said, his cheeks crimson, "you should hear him."

"I listen," Katie said acidly, "and he talks a lot about what a slut I am to my face. How he never wanted me in school. How I'm a way to pass time in his boring little life with something interesting. Romantic, really."

"That's what he says to you?" Nott said, his voice strained.

"Yes," Katie said, "and I appreciate that he doesn't lie and sugarcoat it.''

She was lying, and she was telling the truth all at once. It helped, when Montague was an arse. But it hurt, too, when she knew what she really wanted from him, deep down.

"That's not what he tells me," Nott said, "about you, I mean."

"I'm sure it's not," Katie said, "I'm sure he tells you all about how I look naked, and how I'm an idiot who is won over with money he didn't even earn, and-"

"He's wanted to date you since we were all in school," Nott blurted, then his face immediately contorted like he wanted to stuff the words back in his mouth.

"I...I mean...don't tell him I told you that."

For an embarrassing moment, Katie's heart leapt. Then she remembered everything she knew about Montague.

"False," she said, "he told me he wanted to fuck me in school. And Fred and George, and Oliver. He told them that too. But I asked him, what would've made him want to date me in school, and he said 'nothing'. So don't cover for him, Nott." Katie held up a hand when he'd opened his mouth. "I get it. You're his mate. You want to think the best of him. You must be a lot better than his other little mates if you're friends with Ron and Harry, so maybe your mind doesn't work in the twisted ways his does."

"You've got him all wrong," Nott said quietly, "but I won't try to convince you otherwise. I think you should talk to him, though."

"Can't," Katie said, feigning unconcern, "although like I said, I really should break it off after the match, I suppose. Maybe before. He's distracting me now. And I don't date boys with fiances. Call me old fashioned that way."

"Just let him explain first," Nott said, "at the Bletchley's charity ball. When he escorts you."
"Is he escorting me?" Katie said, "that's funny. I'm going with George Weasley. You can tell him that for me. It will make his mummy proud when he takes his fiance like he should."

And she got up, her hands shaking slightly, clinging to her shake, Nott calling after her. But as soon as she left the shop she ducked into an alleyway and Apparated away so he couldn't follow her. And if she stopped in a corner liquor store, bought some vodka, and dumped three shots of it into her mocha milkshake, who could blame her?


As predicted, she wasn't home twenty minutes before Montague was banging on her door. Not that she could hear him. She'd warded her flat silent, and drank her vodka milkshake in peace, until Ange got home and got into an altercation with Montague outside their flat. Not that she heard that either. The silencing charm had held up. And maybe Katie had passed out, Montague's owl pecking at her, along with five others, all with extravagant gifts and increasingly long and unhinged owls from Montague that Alicia had read out loud later. What of it?

"This last one," Alicia said, as Ange angrily shoved a slice of pizza in her mouth, still pissed hours after she'd screamed in Montague's face for being a duplicitous two-timer, "his handwriting has gotten all wonky, even. Look!"

She held up the parchment. It was written in a barely legible scrawl, the letters getting increasingly cramped and messy all at once, the lines going diagonal, occasionally ink blots all over it.

"Bell, I think you're being very immature here, after all I took you going on an actual date with an actual other bloke you've actually snogged rather well--Katie what the hell is this about?" Alicia said, and Katie suddenly couldn't remember if she'd told her mates about that depressing date with Nate, the Muggle bartender. She sighed, then did briefly just to be sure.

"And he did make a big deal about it," Katie said, irritated, "I mean, after a while. When I found out he knew. He kept whining about it. And he thinks I want Oliver or something. He keeps whining about that too."

"Oliver?" Ange said through a mouthful of pizza. She choked. Then swallowed. "Actually, Katie, have you considered dating Oliver? I know he's single."

"Oliver?" Alicia and Katie said in unison, staring at Ange like she was nuts.

"I mean, I know he's a lot," Ange said, taking her fourth slice, "but he is cute."

"He's a sexless Quidditch amoeba," Katie said, "would he even notice if I was naked?"

"If you were holding a Quidditch cup," Alicia murmured, "Ange, don't eat all the pizza!"

"We can order more," Ange said, "and there's three pizzas, Alicia, don't be ridiculous. No, think about it, Katie, Oliver's just your type! He's a Gryffindor, he's brave, he fought in the battle, he plays Quidditch, he's cute-"

"He's a sexless Quidditch amoeba," Alicia agreed, "Ange, really. Stick with suggesting Dean Thomas. Now that's a man who fucks."

Katie groaned, shoving a pillow over her head. Maybe she'd suffocate to death.

"Don't tell me how you know that," Ange said, chewing rapidly.

"Taking Weasley with you to the ball is really a new low," Alicia said, after an eye roll, picking up the last parchment again, and Ange rage ate and choked then swallowed some more, "I'm not planning on escorting Tatiana, as I had no plans to blow my own brains out with a gun that night."
Katie felt her chest shake in a way that indicated she'd just laughed. Fuck. She lifted the pillow to survey her mates' disappointment in her laughing at a Montague joke.

"Are you laughing with him?" Ange demanded, "after he just said all that nonsense about George?

"What's a gun?" Alicia said blankly.

"You know," Katie said, "the thing Leo was waving about in that movie."

"Huh?" Alicia and Ange said in unison.

"The cute Muggle boy," Katie said impatiently, "the one named Montague that you thought was so hilarious."

"Oh the death sparkler tube," Alicia nodded, "right. He's making jokes at you, now? Jokes only Muggles would get?"

"He can be funny," Katie admitted, "it's partially how he won me over."

"Well now that's over," Ange said, "right?"

"Right," Katie said at once, "I told Nott I was dumping him, didn't I?"

"Ice cold," Alicia said with no small amount of glee, "I didn't think you had it in you. Good show."

Half the room was covered in flowers, chocolates, and various gifts Katie hadn't even opened. On top was tickets to an opera in Rome. Nott did actually know Montague pretty well, come to think of it. But that didn't mean he wasn't lying to his mates about Katie.

"I thought you wanted me to date him?" Katie said to Ange, remembering something.

"Well 'wanted' is a strong statement," Ange said, "I believe I told you to go for it so you won't regret not trying. But that was until he told me to leash my ginger boyfriend to keep him from humping your leg outside our flat," Ange said, "and I told him to shove a broomstick up his silver plated bunghole. And then he asked me if I was okay having threesomes with you and George and-oh god, I kind of feel like barfing."

"I told you not to eat all that pizza," Alicia said, "without us, anyway. Katie, sit up and eat a slice. You must be composed solely of alcohol at this point."

"Don't judge me," Katie slurred, "I just got dumped. Well. I dumped him, I mean. You know." She picked up the half empty vodka bottle. How the hell had that happened?

"Yes, so we should be celebrating," Alicia said, "why are you two moping with carbies and alcohol?"

Katie took a moment to translate. It took longer then she would've wanted, what with the alcohol brain and all.

"Carbs," she said, "and Ange got harassed by him. Let her eat her pizza. For that matter, so am I. Getting harassed by him." Another owl flew through the window, or maybe it was an amorphous blob of twelve owls that flew in, bearing a giant package Katie didn't want to contemplate.

Alicia set out the giant bowl of owl treats they'd taken to having out the last few months Katie had been dating or toying with or losing her mind over Montague, whatever interpretation you preferred.

"Don't open it," Ange said through more pizza, "make Katie do it."

"She can't move," Alicia protested, "she's drunk off her arse."

"Yes," Ange said, "exactly."

Katie feebly stirred then slumped back into the couch. She wondered if she'd have to read all about Montague and Tatiana Prewett's marriage in Witch Weekly. The jewels, the robes, the flowers, the mansion, the ridiculous honeymoon. Not like she read Witch Weekly. But Hellman would be sure to shove it in her face, at least. Bitch.

Alicia ripped open the enormous package with enthusiasm as Katie made helpless swimming motions in the air from the couch. Seven brooms fell out, wrapped tightly together. Someone screamed. Katie wondered if it was her, before she realized it was all three of them at once. She lunged to her feet, banged into the coffee table, knocked over another empty bottle of vodka, and staggered to the brooms, and she still arrived last, even though Ange was half woman, half pizza.

"Are those…" Katie choked.

"No," Ange said, voice hushed.

"These aren't even on the market yet!" Alicia said, her voice a tiny squeak, "are they?"

"No," Ange and Katie said in unison. Ange lunged for the latest copy of Quidditch Monthly. Right on the cover was a byline about the new Firebolt 3000's. She tore through the pages. "Not until July," Ange said, her voice still hushed, "it says right here, they aren't released until July!"
Alicia had snatched the scroll from the still remaining owl who wasn't stuffing his beak with the finest owl treats known to magical beasts. It hooted, then flew off to join its mates.

Katie couldn't hear either of her mates talking. Ange was reading the article over and over, she was pretty sure, in increasingly loud tones. Alicia was reading the scroll. But Katie was fondling the nearest broom. It was tinged with just a hint of cherry red wood. She knew this one was for her. Her hands were shaking, but maybe it was just the alcohol. Stamped near the end of the finest broom Katie had ever touched in her life (and she'd once flown on Harry's Firebolt) was a little golden Bell with a golden lion's head above it. She was sure it was made out of beads that were actual gold. The lion was golden as well, but had what she knew must be real rubies for eyes. There was a strange buzzing in her ears. Alicia was getting even louder than Ange. The letter must be something. Ange was shrieking about July some more. Katie's hands were shaking harder. She didn't let go of her broom. There was a black Firebolt with Jones's name on it, her name in silver and her eagle for Ravenclaw with sapphire eyes. There was one for Ginny, an oak with identical golden and ruby monikers to Katie's. There was one for all of the other girls as well, custom made.

"And none for Hellman," Katie said out loud, but over the cacophony of the owls and her friends losing their minds no one heard her.

No one in the league even had Firebolts, aside from Flint and Yakamura on the Falcons, the most well funded team in the league. Everyone else still had Nimbus 2003' the lucky seven players for each country in the Quidditch World Cup got to borrow Firebolts for the tournament.

Katie remembered the day she'd gotten her Nimbus 2003, the first day she'd officially made the Harpies. She'd never held a finer one. She polished it nightly, agonized over every twig, sometimes took it down off her perch on her wall just to look at it and marvel over her life. How had she gotten here, a little Muggle girl from Bath, with two very Muggle parents and not a lot of personality or brains? First string in Quidditch, with the nicest broom she'd ever own. And now she had a Firebolt 3000. A broom she'd never even considered being a possibility.

"Well she can't keep it," Ange was yelling for some reason, and Katie reeled as if she'd been slapped. The buzzing in her ears went away. Her hands stopped shaking. Her senses returned all at once.

"What do you mean, she can't keep it?" Alicia yelled back. Why the hell were they yelling? When had that happened? "this is the greatest broom in the world! In the history of the world! They have to use them, and win the cup!"

"No," Katie said quietly.

"She can't," Ange said, "she dumped him! She just dumped him!"

"He knows," Alicia said, "and he sent it anyway! Look, it says right here-"

"It's obviously contingent on her going back out with him," Ange said, "Alicia, don't be ridiculous. It's not without strings."

Katie forced herself to put the broom down. It felt like she was being torn in two. She'd never wanted anything so badly in her life. And even she didn't know if she meant the broom or the cup or Montague. Or at least, the Montague she'd built up in her mind. The one that didn't exist.

"Ange is right," Katie forced herself to say over the din. "I can't take this. I can't take any of this." I can't have him, her mind added. He's not mine. He'll never be mine. "Just like the broom," she said.

"Er, what?" Alicia said.

"Oh for god's sake," Ange said, and she marched over with a vial and an entire pizza box. "Which first?" she demanded, shaking the sober up potion and pizza box at Katie.

"Just dump them in together," Alicia said, "let's speed this up."

"What-" Katie started to protest, but then she got the vial of sober up potion and pizza shoved in her mouth simultaneously. She choked, then swallowed, then choked, then burst into tears.

"Oh no, you should've let her stay drunk," Alicia sighed.

"Katie," Ange said gently, "why are you crying?"

"Why do you think, Ange?" Alicia snapped, "she's being told by every prude in our life that she's wrong for liking Montague. Then when she finally gets the courage to ignore it she finds out he's a weasel who's engaged to some rich bimbo. Now he's sent her some brooms you spoilsports say she can't use."

"She can't," Ange said, "it's not about who sent it, Alicia! They're not even cleared by the league for use, yet!"
Alicia paused, mid pace.

"Says who?" she said, then got a calculating gleam in her eye, "and can we bribe them?" she murmured under her breath. "Who's in charge of Magical Games now?"

"Kinsa Hoang," Ange said at once, "a real stickler for the rules, and-"

"Aha!" Alicia said, "she's got a crush on Harry!"

"How do you know that?" Ange said, aghast.

"Kinsa Hoang is fifty-three," Katie said, then hiccuped, rubbing at her eyes.

"Some people think Harry's sexy," Alicia shrugged. They all shuddered in unison.

"We can work that," Ange said, now getting the same gleam in her eye. It wasn't often Ange got an evil gleam, and was always cause for more concern.

"No we can't use them," Katie said, "I have to send it all back. The necklace. The tickets to the Roman opera. The flowers, the candy-"

"The declarations of undying love," Alicia nodded.

"What?" Katie said, feeling like her heart had stopped. Her eyes strayed to the latest parchment she hadn't listened to.

"Well I mean, for Montague, anyway," Alicia amended hastily, pushing the parchment behind her back.

Katie lunged to her feet, snatching it out of her grasp, and they fell to the couch, wrestling.

"Incinerate it, Ange!" Alicia yelped, "this is your fault for sobering her up!'

"You read it out loud not three minutes ago," Ange said, not stirring herself to help. She'd wandered over to the Firebolt 3000's like a moth to a flame. Her hands stroked Jones's broom, the look in her eye one that Katie recognized in herself.

"Stop tickling me Katie Bell, I'll read it, I'll read it!" Alicia said, kicking out and hitting Katie in the ribs. She fell to the floor, gasping for air.

"And don't edit it," Katie said through gasps.

"I won't," Alicia protested, "what do you take me for?"

"You just told Ange to incinerate it!"

"Well you've clearly lost the plot!" Alicia snapped, shaking out the parchment. "Anyway. His handwriting is even worse here. Ahem. Bell. I really wish you'd stop tormenting me like this. I just need to explain. If you let me explain, you'll understand. I can make you understand."

"That's ominous," Ange said, inspecting Ginny's broom next.

"Ahem," Alicia said, glaring at Ange, "I don't love Tatiana. I don't even tolerate her. She's inspidid. She says things like "isn't the weather grand today Graham, tra la la and shite like that."

Ange snickered, then covered her mouth.

"Oh, now you're laughing at his jokes too?" Alicia said, but her own mouth had twitched, "oh aren't your robes divine Graham, how smart we'll look on our wedding day, mother will be pleased. Let us have two children and name them Twiffle and Boffins, and spoil them into being monsters like me. Do you think I want to be stuck with that sort of nonsense forever? Bell, you know me better than that. don't tell me you're as stupid as the rest of the Gryffindors."

"Hey," Ange said half heartedly, after Katie glanced at her, "what? I've already heard this when Alicia read it the first time."

"Ahem," Alicia said, looking irritated again, "I told my mates you're not like the others, you're far more clever and not as self righteous as they are. How could you be, if you find me amusing?"

"He is kind of amusing," Ange said grudgingly, "but still, an arsehole the rest of the time."

"Angelina!" Alicia snapped, "Your interruptions are ruining my dramatic reenactment!" For Alicia had been putting on a playboy slouch and a particularly affected male rich boy voice to read the letter. "I'm sorry my mother came by to lie to you and drive a wedge between us. How many times do I have to apologize to you? It's embarrassing, when your own mother was so nice to me. My mother knew she was making things up, I haven't agreed. Why do you think I've been living alone, and why do you think my parents are so mad at me? I won't marry Tatiana. I'll die first."

"He's bloody dramatic," Ange said, sounding amused, "but you're right Alicia, dear god, it's like he's writing her a love sonnet."

"Are we listening to the same letter?" Katie said, still staring at her broom, but not daring to touch it.

"I dunno, are you missing the part where he's begging your forgiveness and explaining how he thinks his fiance is awful?" Ange shot back.

"Are you missing the part where he's calling me an idiot?" Katie said, "though I suppose that's fair. I fucked him dead sober, after all."

"Just let me finish!" Alicia said, then shook back her hair and did a slouch that did recall Montague's bored rich boy lean far too accurately, "I don't know what you think you're doing going to the Bletchley ball with Weasley instead of me, I'm referring to my mortal enemy in case you were confused, I know there's so many Weasley cockroaches running about it's hard to keep straight-"

Ange and Katie sighed in unison. "It's not even clever," Katie mumbled, "they all go to the Weasley thing."

"All of them,'' Ange agreed, picking up a pizza slice and squinting at it. She shrugged, then took a bite.

"But you should be going with me. I'm your boyfriend. Don't forget that. I don't believe this nonsense you told Theo about dumping me."

"This," Katie said acidly, "is a love letter?"

"Not from a normal boy, no," Ange said through a mouthful of pizza.

"But from the arsehole that is Montague, yes," Alicia agreed, "I mean he's not even hiding how upset and jealous he is."

"Romantic," Katie drawled, taking a bite of her own pizza. "I do so love a jealous jackass."

"If you're worried about Tatiana making a scene, she won't even be there," Alicia continued, "so-"

"Aha!" Katie said so loudly Alicia jumped and broke her faux slouch and Ange gagged on the pizza. Katie thumped her on the back.

"Aha what?" Ange choked.

"That's why he's taking me," Katie said triumphantly, "spineless worm. She's not going to be there for some reason."

"But all of high society will be," Ange said slowly, "and he still wants to take you. Why?"

"To get out of the engagement," Katie said, "why do you think? I believe him about that part. He hates pureblood culture. Some of it anyway." she scowled at the Firebolts. How much could this have cost? And how was his father okay with financing it?

"If you believe him that he doesn't want to marry Tatiana, then why are you so upset?" Ange said slowly.

"I know he doesn't want to marry her," Katie said, "but he will anyway. You think he's giving this up?" she waved at the crammed room of presents that had surely cost more than Katie had ever made in her life, "you think he wants to get a real job, and live in a real flat, and have to work hard for a living? Please. She will bore him, but he'll marry her and cheat on her like they all do."

Her friends exchanged a glance. They clearly thought she was talking nonsense.

"Besides," Katie said, angrier, "he lied to me! This whole time! He's been engaged and he lied to me! Isn't that a big deal? I'm the other woman! I'm the-the scarlet letter lady!"

"Scarlet woman," Ange said, clearly trying not to laugh, "it's scarlet woman, Katie. Have you been talking to Molly? I could have warned you never to talk to her about girl stuff."

"I'm referring to The Scarlet Letter!" Katie said, kicking at their sofa like a lunatic, "the Nathaniel Hawthorne American classic! Dad is nuts about it! Sure, it all ends up fine enough for whatshiface, but the woman! Her life is ruined and no one cares!" She lunged for the vodka bottle.

"Oh no you don't!" Alicia said, "I've only got so many sober up potions, Katie, and you're going through them at an alarming rate!"

"I thought you had at least twenty," Ange frowned.

"Yes," Alicia said, "exactly. Or I did, anyway." She glanced pointedly at Katie.

"So I'm drinking a lot," Katie said, "that's the least of my problems. She picked up the bottle and unscrewed the cap, ignoring her friends twin frowns. She looked about at the letters from Montague, the ridiculous dress he'd sent for the Bletchley's ball, the presents, the invitations to the Renaissance Fair from her dad to Montague, the Firebolt 3000s. "What am I going to do?" she asked bleakly.

"About what?" Alicia said, turning away from her annoying meaningful look with Ange.

"Everything." Katie said, swigging vodka.


Author's Note: This Nott cameo is a bit of an Easter egg to those of you "Mudbloods of the Death Eaters" fans. :)