Chapter Nineteen: Hirsute Harpy Harasses Himbo
"Bell," Jones said after practice, "good flying today."
"Thanks," Katie said automatically, not even hearing what she was saying.
"Good focus," Jones said, "really excellent stuff. I'm glad to see that your little scene at the Bletchley charity ball didn't distract you."
"Huh?" Katie said, blinking rapidly.
She had gotten showered and dressed somehow. She didn't remember doing either, but her hair was wet. She spelled it dry rapidly. She couldn't remember anything from practice. Not a single thing. Hellman was glaring at her, so it must've gone well. Jones wasn't being sarcastic. Or maybe Katie had stopped mid match and offered to fuck Hellman, and that's why she was glaring. After all, she was apparently going around fucking attractive Quidditch players. Why not Hellman, too?
Jones looked at her closer. "Right. My office, Bell. Now."
Katie trudged behind Jones. She'd gotten talked to in Jones's office more in the last few months A.M.B. (after Montague banging) then all the time she had in the two years she'd been on the team put together. Ginny said something to them, but she didn't hear it. She hadn't heard a word anyone had said since the ball. Or processed their words, anyway. Remembered them. Trust Jones to be the only one dominating enough to penetrate the haze surrounding Katie's brain.
On the wall next to Jones's office where Marcus Flint and his little Flint used to hang, pincushioned, was a giant picture of Rita Skeeter pincushioned even more thoroughly.
Katie picked up a dart and stuck it right in Rita's nose.
"Good one," Jones said, "though, I think you're actually supposed to throw it from far away, and not just shove a dart in where you want it."
"Good to know," Katie said, refusing to rise to the bait. Jones must be worried if she was joking with Katie. Jones didn't joke. But then, Katie was a giant joke, wasn't she? The biggest joke she'd ever heard of.
"Well you're in a mood," Jones said, opening the door to her office and pointing inside, "for someone who just flew so well."
"Did I?" Katie said, her eyes alighting on the hundred or so awards Jones had won covering the walls.
"You scored eighteen times," Jones pointed out, "weren't hit by a single bludger. You did a perfect Wronski Feint in front of a reporter who I invited to cover our practice in an attempt to get more sponsors."
"Ah," Katie said, "good for me."
"Although really," Jones said, glaring at her now, "I should just set you loose at every pureblood event. Not that you'll be invited to one again, but in case you are, I'll make sure you crash and throw puddings on Lucius Malfoy."
She slapped a stack of papers and magazines onto her desk. Katie looked at them without feeling. She had a suspicion Ange or Alicia had either shown them to her and she'd forgotten, or they'd burned every one and she'd never seen them.
"The Battle of Hogwarts Hero and Harpies Chaser Katie Bell Confronts Death Eater" screamed the front page of the Daily Prophet's entertainment section. Mousse slowly dripped down Tatiana Prewett's robes as she looked with hatred at the deranged figure of Katie, who had been pointing at Draco Malfoy with vigorous accusation, her eyes more than a little wild. Well. That was a fair representation of what had happened..
"That's a mouthful," Katie said out loud, putting The Prophet aside, "not very snappy."
Witch Weekly actually had her on the cover, arm in arm with George. Ange was going to be thrilled about that.
"Hirsute Heroine Harpy and Hobnobber of Harry Potter Harasses Himbo," Katie read, "Full alliteration. Almost. That's more clever, I suppose."
Maybe hirsute should've been offensive, if she was in her right mind. Or maybe she just appreciated a ridiculous attempt at cleverness.
She picked up the next paper. It was in French. Horribly, she thought of Benoit Lambert. She'd found a photo of him in her room, inside her wooden chest that was engraved with swirling flowers and vines. Benoit had been smiling, and shirtless. It had been a photo someone had taken. Someone who was probably Katie on a banging bender.
The photo on the French paper was Malfoy falling onto an elf and Katie shouting.
"I should send that one to Hermione," Katie mused, "she'll love me forever for it. Make me vice president of S.P.E.W.'' she paused. "Then again, no one wants to be vice president of S.P.E.W. I could've gotten the job without arranging this wacky charade in the first place. Oops."
"I suppose you think you're terribly amusing, Bell," Jones said, as she snatched the French paper from Katie. Underneath was more. Katie couldn't bear to look at another one.
"Oh no," Katie said, "I'm using gallows humor so I don't go crazy. Er. I mean, I'm apparently super crazy. Maybe I should tell you, Captain. Certifiable. Absolutely bonkers. Time for you to promote Hellman, I think."
"With two matches to go?" Jones said, "Bell, I think I believe you that you've gone mad. Or are you just wallowing in self pity again? It seems to be your favorite activity."
She waited for Katie's protest at this insult. None came.
"Isn't it?'' Jones needled.
"No," Katie said, "my favorite activity appears to be fucking random guys and then forgetting I ever did it."
Jones laughed. Katie didn't.
"Why would I want to throw you off the team for that, Bell?" Jones said, "and why would I ever throw you off the team when you just earned us half a million galleons in sponsorship money?"
"What?" Katie said blankly. She didn't trust anything she heard, thought, said, or remembered anymore. Maybe this was an elaborate hallucination. The insidious, evil thought that she'd had for the past day and a half crept in, taunting her.
Or maybe, her brain whispered, George Weasley is a fucking liar. She tried to shut it up while Jones talked. She should listen to her captain. But instead the evil voice kept whispering. Montague's been telling you George Weasley is a liar for months. You had no proof either way on who was lying. You just assumed it had to be Montague based on your history. George's main witness was Fred, and you know where Fred is.
Katie tried to shut up that hateful voice. That voice was her enemy. It wasn't her friend. How did no one else ever mention these things to you? The voice continued, Charlie has been around you on occasion for years. So has Dean. They're both bold guys. And you think they wouldn't mention this? Why didn't Benoit ever write to you, if you used to date? Why didn't Oliver–but here was where Katie's rational brain triumphed.
Ha, the non evil part of her screamed in return, explain that, if George is lying. Oliver said to my face that I fucked him. I called Nate at least twenty times. He called me just as many times. Explain that, if George is lying.
Maybe the bartender was calling someone else, the evil voice rallied, it's not like Alicia is a saint. Maybe he was harassing you and you blocked out his creepy phone calls for your mental health. And as for Wood, he could be in on George's game. Playing a prank with your emotions–
"Bell!" Jones shouted, and Katie jumped, "did you just hear a goddamn word I said?"
"No," Katie said, "I'm busy arguing with my inner saboteur."
Jones, who really should've been more concerned about the sanity of her worst and most troublesome Chaser right now, instead bent a look on her that indicated she was deeply unamused by these jokes.
"Well argue with me instead," Jones said, "or preferably, Hellman. That always entertains me."
"Odd, considering how many times you yelled at me for cat fighting," Katie retorted.
"Got to keep you all afraid," Jones shrugged, unrepentant.
"Good work," Katie said.
Jones's eyes narrowed. "is this because I told you Gerry wants to fuck you?" she asked. "It's made you think we are buddies? I don't want a sister, Bell."
"Give it a week," Katie siad, "if your brother plays Quidditch, I might fuck him and forget it."
Jones paused. "I told you he's terrible, in bed, Bell," she said, her face violently twitching. Katie realized the her of even a few days ago would be terrified right now. But she couldn't bring herself to care. She didn't even know who she was anymore. Maybe she never had known.
The twitching continued, and Katie watched with fascination when she realized Jones was trying not to smile.
"Oh come on,'' Katie said, "I'm funny. Just do it. I'll be scared of you once I forget everything George told me. Don't worry, that should happen soon."
The twitching stopped. There. That was better. The mingled disgust and confusion on Jones's face was far more familiar.
"Bell, that's the upteenth time you've referenced forgotten something," Jones said, "what is going on with you?"
"Do you care?" Katie asked, "or are you only asking so I don't blow the semifinal?"
"I'm allowed to do both," Jones said, "especially after you got us those sponsors, and those brooms."
Something penetrated the haze surrounding Katie. The Firebolts? Shit. Montague had said he'd sent them to Jones after Katie had returned them. She looked to Jones's closet, which was cracked open. A broom handle glittered at her. Weasley, written in gold and red rubies. The ruby lion seemed to be taunting her. Fucking hell.
"We can't take those," Katie said, the tiniest bit of vigor returning to her voice.
"And why not?'' Jones asked, the twitching happening again, "Bell, banging that pretty boy has maybe ruined your life, but it's distinctly enhanced mine. We've got the best brooms in the league. I already talked to your mate, Potter. He talked to Kinsa Hoang for us."
"No," Katie said, voice constricted. How had Jones known to use Harry as a tool against the Ministry's regulations? And why had Harry agreed?!
"Hoang is allowing us to use them," Jones said with relish, ignoring Katie's protest, "next match, even. We're going to wipe the floor with the Catapults. Literally, if we want to do the thing like Muggles."
She cackled at her own terrible joke.
"Captain," Katie attempted. "If you do actually care about me at all, you can't accept these. I can't be beholden to him like this."
"But you're not," Jones said, still chuckling, "you gave them back. I'm beholden to him. And let me be clear, I have zero qualms about that. I'm not a Gryffindor. I have no intention of feeling guilt over this, or thinking I have to pay him back in some way. It's a gift. You don't pay back gifts."
"You do if it's from Montague," Katie said.
That's not fair, the evil voice said, what have you given him for everything he's bought for you? Slaps to the face? Cheating on him with another guy? Public humiliation?
"He's engaged," Katie hissed aloud, not realizing she'd crossed the line into full lunatic speaking to a house plant, "he's toying with you. He's conspiring with his fiance to–"
"Bell," Jones said, "stop trying to distract me by acting crazy. I've worked in this league long enough. I've seen actual crazy. This is a poor attempt."
Katie stared at her captain, dumbfounded. How was it, when she'd actually gone off the ledge into loony town, that no one noticed? Ange and Alicia had taken her to brunch yesterday, told Edith everything, and no one had noticed that Katie was slowly dying. Oliver had patted her on the back after their conversation, red faced, told her he'd promised never to bring it up again, that no one knew but them, and that he was fine with her dating Montague, he wasn't jealous. Katie had almost stabbed herself with the nearby letter opener they kept for Alicia's whimsy that was shaped like a hamburger and had never been used to pen a single letter.
"What about the sponsors?" Katie said, flailing for any stable footing in her life. How had her throwing a chocolate mousse at Tatiana Fawley and screaming at some Malfoys lead to half a million galleons?
"I do hate repeating myself," Jones said, contradicting her words with the biggest smile Katie had ever seen on her captain's face. "But apparently a lot of people are mad about the Malfoys not being in Azkaban. A lot of people are mad at the purebloods who didn't fight in the war…or if they did, for the wrong side and got away with it. Actually, mad seems to be an understatement. Quietly homicidal about these things, Bell. And hearing a hero such as yourself say it out loud…humiliating the rich folks in public…well, the money has been rolling in since, Bell." Jones smiled fondly at the photo of Malfoy falling onto a house elf.
"It's even better that your dressing down led to this." Jones slapped another Daily Prophet on the desk, this one for today's edition.
The front page was an enormous article about Elviron Bletchley's generous announcement to build a school for Muggle born students to get educated in the wizarding world's ways the summer before their first year. Oh, and did he mention the gold statues he was commissioning? The enormous flower garden he was placing them in? The plaque he was planning on hanging to honor the centaurs for traumatizing Umbridge? The generous donation he was making to S.P.E.W.?
"No one's buying it, of course," Jones said, "all for show. But it got us even more sponsors. Everyone knows he's only doing it because you told him to. Why, it's even mentioned in the article," Jones tapped on a paragraph, which Katie dutifully pretended to read.
"Great," Katie said, her mind wandering again, her eyes back on the brooms. Maybe she could burn them. Yes, it would hurt to burn Firebolt 3,000s, yes, she might burn down Jones's office, yes she might be charged with arson, yes, they would probably lose their match and she'd get kicked off the team, but at least Graham Montague couldn't hold his priceless gift over her.
"We'd only win because of him," Katie muttered, "he'd love that, wouldn't he?"
"Bletchley has nothing to do with our incoming cup win," Jones said with relish, "how do you feel about a raise, Bell?"
"A raise?" Katie said blankly. Sure she hadn't committed the arson just yet, but was she not about to get kicked off the team for being a huge, secret whore? No. That wasn't fair. Apparently no one knew, not even Katie. Also, she hadn't been paid. Had she?
"Yes, a raise," Jones said, standing, throwing open her closet to look at the brooms with a grin on her face. The one that said Bell made Katie's stomach twist. Did Montague know? He'd been insisting that she was two-timing him with Nate. She'd thought he was jealous, and insane. On the other rhand, who fucking cared if he knew. He was engaged, and from what she'd seen, far more involved with Tatiana Prewett than he or his mates would admit. Who cared what she did with other blokes in her spare time, when her brain had shorted out and she'd become Kayti Belle, player and heartbreaker?
The Bell spelled in rubies sparkled in the light. Jones actually started humming as she tapped her own broom fondly, the sapphires glittering. "You banging that boy is the best thing that's happened to me in years," Jones said, bouncing on her feet. "how about another thousand galleons a year?"
"A…thousand…?" Katie repeated faintly.
"Five thousand?" Jones said, as if Katie had been hesitating due to her being cheap. "Oh, what the hell. Ten! You got us half a mil. I shouldn't be stingy."
"Ten thousand?" Katie said, "a year? More?"
Who knew all she had to do to change her wealth status considerably was make a public scene by throwing a chocolate swan filled with mousse? Although ten thousand a year to Montague was nothing. Just how much he spent per week on his Muggleborn fling, to amuse himself before marriage.
"You drive a hard bargain," Jones said, holding out a hand, "let's say fifty thousand galleon a year pay raise?"
Katie held out her hand on instinct, keeping her mouth shut, though if she kept making useless noises and repeating Jones's last words who knew. Maybe she'd make even more. In a daze, she wandered out of Jones's office as Jones blathered something else about the firebolts to her back. Hellman made some snide comment or other to her about her showing off. Ginny congratulated her again on the Lucius screaming. Presumably. It was a good guess, with Ginny, but all Katie could see were flapping mouths and all she could hear were incomprehensible buzzing noises. if she was really going around having torrid affairs and forgetting it, how was she not realizing she was missing gaps of her life? Why could she account for all of her time? Was someone taking polyjuice from her hair or god forbid, toenails? And if so, why?
"They could pick someone with a far better life," Katie muttered as she walked past a row of fans who were reenacting her pointing her finger at Malfoy. Someone threw a chocolate Easter bunny at another fan, who dramatically swooned to the ground, both popping to their feet afterwards and grinning at Katie.
"Amusing," she told them, "very accurate." No point in telling them a stale Easter bunny was wrong, when it was significantly funnier than what had actually happened.
With no memory of how she'd apparated there, Katie realized she was at Painted Beans. She walked inside blankly, not knowing what she was doing there.
"Hello Katie," the barista said, who she would've sworn before a couple days ago she'd never seen in her life,"the usual?"
"Sure," Katie said. What was the usual?
A unicorn milkshake was placed on the counter in front of her. Swell relief. This must've been the barista that had been here when she'd met Nott, and she just didn't recognize them.
"Where's your man?" the barista asked her as she made the drink.
"Busy," Katie said absently. It was surprising Montague hadn't been outside her door or outside of practice with the fans. Maybe he'd finally had enough of her nonsense. "spending daddy's money on tiaras for his fiance, I suspect."
The grinding of the coffee beans stopped.
"Oh. Or do you meant Nott? Probably in a basement working somewhere."
Basement wasn't accurate, but "secret department at a Magical Ministry" wasn't acceptable to say to a Muggle. Even if you had lost your entire mind.
"I meant Nate," the barista said slowly, "you know, your boyfriend? The cute blond guy with the tats and the–"
"I know who you mean," Katie said hastily, "he's er. Like I said. Busy." Maybe she should find out if that was true or not. Showed up to his bar, asked how long they'd been involved. Montague would pop up in a jumper and that stupid ring, get into another fistfight, maybe get sent to Azkaban. Tatiana would get her revenge with a poisoned pudding.
"Shame," the barista said, "I do so like looking at him when he leaves," she winked at Katie.
"Er, right," Katie said, "well, gotta go!" she picked up her drink, wandering aimlessly outside. Why had she come here? This was actually a place Montague might look, especially if he knew about her other boyfriend. Or her doppleganger's other boyfriend. Whatever the hell was going on. Who could she talk to about her descent into madness? Not Alicia and Ange. Alicia would laugh about her two-timing Montague. They'd both try not to laugh about her fucking Oliver, but they would eventually, and who could blame them?
She couldn't even remember how it had been, so she couldn't exactly deflect from her own humiliation with an amusing story about how Oliver had made them roleplay a Quidditch match while thrusting. Then again, maybe Oliver hadn't done that at all. Who knew? Not Katie. Just the diseased part of her brain that controlled her blackouts.
She wandered past a store selling bikinis,and felt sick. Maybe she should just ask Oliver what had happened, and Dean, and Charlie,and Benoit. She onlly knew for sure that she'd fucked two of them…or a witch wearing her face had fucked two of them. Maybe talking to her alleged conquests would help.
A chill went through her. How many more would there be? Had she actually fucked someone as disgusting as Flint without remembering it? No. Surely not. He would have thrown it in her face forever. She'd only picked cute Quidditch boys, and despite Hellman's sick fantasies, Flint had the face only a mother could love, and maybe not even a mother. And besides that, ff she'd fucked anyone truly awful, they would be as irritating as Montague about having sex wtih her. Wouldn't they?
Obviously she couldn't talk to Hermione. Hermione had probably only fucked Ron in her entire life, poor girl. Harry wouldn't be judgmental. Katie was sure of that, after that conversation they'd had at St. Mungos when her leg healed. But she'd rather die then admit to Harry that she fucked Oliver when he'd been Harry's captain as well. It was just too weird.
Ginny, Percy, George, and Ron were a definite no. Not when she'd apparently broken the heart of Charlie. How could she have fucked him on the same night Fred had died? And then ruthlessly dumped him for Benoit Lambert? None of this was Katie. Nothing made sense. How had no one noticed her living a double life? How had she not noticed all of the times she'd been dating and fucking random guys? How had she not noticed huge black holes in her memory? Her feet carried her through the London streets. She looked up. The milkshake was gone. The sun was lower in the sky. She was standing in front of a restaurant.
"Yeah," Katie said, nodding, "of course." She walked inside, looking for who she needed.
"Katie!" Edith called, smiling, "so good to see you!"
"I'm sorry to take up your time this way," Katie said awkwardly, stirring her cocktail. They'd gone to a restaurant a couple of blocks over at the end of Edith's shift at the waitress's insistence.
"If I stay here they'll just slap an apron on me again and expect me to work for free," she'd said cheerfully to Katie, "also, if I stay here another second I might snap."
"Don't apologize," Edith said in reply to her mealy mouthed misery, "I needed to eat, didn't I?"
"I'll buy you dinner," Katie said miserably, "to make up for wasting your–"
"You need to stop apologizing," Edith said severely, "at once. That's your problem. Well, one of them, anyway."
Katie laughed. It sounded almost as if she were crying.
"I know," Edith said, "you think you've got a lot worse problems than having low self esteem. And you're right."
"Low self esteem?" Katie said, surprised.
Then she thought about it. Of course she had low self esteem. It was obvious, even to a Muggle who barely knew her but was kind enough to listen to her stupid problems after working on her feet for eight hours anyway.
"Nevermind," Katie said, "you're right. I do have low self esteem. I didn't use to. But that…prep school. It made me feel inferior to everyone."
"Just like that rich boy and his fiance are making you feel," Edith nodded. "Look, we can get to him in a minute. But the really important part is your brain injury. Have you gotten scanned? Your brain, I mean?"
"No," Katie said reluctantly, "well I mean, yes I have. I've gotten tested."
Even when she'd broken her leg, and Percy had insisted. An alarm went off.
"Percy insisted," Katie said slowly, "when I hurt myself at my er, football match. Do you think that means he suspects?"
"Oh yes," Edith said at once, "maybe you should talk to him. I know you said you slept with his brother, but you don't have to actually tell him every little detail of what your vagina has been up to."
"I couldn't do that even if I wanted to," Katie said miserably.
"Just tell him the rest," Edith said, "you don't have to mention anyone's name. Just say you recently found out that you've been having a secret life without realizing it. That's enough."
"You really are wise," Katie said.
She felt sick. In another life, maybe she could've been Edith. A girl who grew up with her Muggle friends and went to Muggle university and got a normal job to pay for her schooling in a subject that actually benefited the world like psychology. She'd go around generously dispensing free advice to random girls who were significantly sadder than herself, content in the knowledge that she was amazing and so was her life. Instead Katie spent her time flying around on a janky swiffer that still cost a small fortune.
"How badly did you hurt your head?" Edith asked Katie, "the first time I mean. How bad was it?"
"Bad," Katie said, "I was in hospital for months. I had to get um, whaddyacallilt. Physical therapy. I didn't even know where I was or who I was for months. I woke up not remembering anything on what had happened. I never knew how bad the damage was, because the doctors didn't know. It was a special case, what happened to me. They couldn't quite figure it out."
"Then stop beating yourself up," Edith said, "so you had more ex flings than you realized. Big deal. You said they were all cute?"
"That I know of," Katie mumbled, although apparently blackout Katie had excellent taste. Oliver was a little mad, but he was still hot.
"Then the only problem is that you can't remember hooking up with a bunch of cute boys," Edith shrugged, "which is sad, mind you, but maybe you'll remember eventually."
"The problem," Katie corrected, "is that I'm blacking out and doing god knows what while blacked out. I mean sure, I shouldn't feel bad for cheating on Montague or whatever I'm doing."
"No you should not," Edith said, "he's bloody engaged!"
"Exactly," Katie said, although the truth was, she still felt guilty.
"And obviously that's a huge problem," Edith continued, "and you should get that looked at by an expert doctor. But what I'm saying is, you should never feel guilty about it."
"Right," Katie said, her insides squirming still. It was much easier said than done.
"As for your boyfriend, well one of them, anyway," Edith said, "you still haven't talked to him?"
"No," Katie said, "not er, either of them. I think."
"So you still don't know what lie he's going to give you for having a fiance?" Edith said.
"Oh, that I know," Katie said, "he'll just say some rubbish about how his parents want him to marry her but he never agreed."
"That might be true," Edith said skeptically, "but then why did she contradict everything he said at that party?"
"Exactly," Katie said, though if Tatiana had been an alumni of Slytherin, she would buy the girl lying just to ruin Montague's life.
"So phone him," Edith shrugged, "tell him to leave you alone or you'll get the police involved. I mean, he's harassing you now."
"True,'' Katie said miserably, desperately mad at herself that she didn't fully want Montague to leave her alone. She had become so fucking pathetic.
"I'm sorry I gave you bad advice about him before," Edith sighed, "I really did think he liked you. Your friends were right all along."
"Yes," Katie said slumping forward, "they were."
Author's Note: True story, I added that twist last chapter completely unplanned lol. I'm such a mess, always making my stories more complicated than they need to be! Thanks for all of your support.
