Chapter Twenty-Three : Katie's Flashback Extravaganza

"Here," Katie said, drawing out her new memories and putting them into flasks with Harry's help, "the last one isn't complete, you interrupted me. He was talking about how all he had to do was throw money at me to get me to date him because I'm so impoverished." Her voice was flat, even to her own ears.

"Well that's not true, is it?" Harry said, squinting at the vials and casting murmured spells at them.

"In a way, yes," Katie said, "I mean, maybe from his point of view. Not reality."

"Well definitely remember to make sure to remember that one," Harry said, casting another spell at the flask in his hand.

"Um, what are you doing?" Katie asked.

"Checking for contaminated memories," Harry said, "implanted thoughts, tampered memories, moments of Imperius. Basically I'm trying to make sure these are actual things that happened that you're thinking about."

"Ah," Katie said, unsettled. She hadn't even considered that. "Are they?"

"So far," Harry said, "is that comforting?"

"No," Katie said, "as if I had remembered them, I'm sure I would've blown off Montague in the bar. Left at once, even if my friends hadn't. On the other hand, at least I don't have to deal with an extra layer of brain disease."

"There's the spirit," Harry said, "maybe lie down?"

Katie did. A poster of Oliver in Quidditch robes on her ceiling winked at her.

"Er, Katie?" Harry asked, "can I ask why…?"

"I admired his commitment to the captaincy," Katie said, "and nothing more!"

A horrible thought occurred to her. What else had she forgotten in school, other than these Montague memories? Had her blackout slutty behavior preceded the necklace incident–her eyes snapped open in horrified realization. Harry had been hovering inches from her. The giant glasses made his eyes even larger. They both shrieked.

The door banged open.

"What the hell is this?" Montague snarled. Harry jumped back even further.

"Should Ginny be worried?" Ron said through another victoria sponge. The boy was perhaps a goat walking around in the body of a twenty something year old wizard.

"We're busy," Harry snapped, "you three go off and watch Star Wars with Mr. Bell, have fun."

"I can see that you're very busy," Montague said, left eye twitching. He caught sight of the Wood shrine, though of course he'd already seen it when he'd been snooping like a creepy arsehole. The right eye started twitching too.

"I'm having flashbacks to memories I lost before the necklace," Katie snapped, "sorry if I don't have the time to care about your misplaced jealousy when I've already dumped you." Montague glared at her.

"More memories gone?" Hermione said, "but that doesn't mean you were being dosed back then, Katie. Not necessarily. Which memories are gone?"

"So far, memories of Montague," Katie said, lying back down, praying that Hermione was once more, as she often was, right. A different picture of Oliver winked at her too.

"Specifically the other bet he tried to make with me in fifth year," she said, looking sideways at him for his reaction. "Not the other one with your mates that you've been denying for months until today."

"You forgot about that?" Montague blurted, neck red.

"Lucky you, I did," Katie said, "interesting that it seems I've forgotten a lot of bad memories of you, isn't it?"

"You know it wasn't me who is poisoning you, I just proved it!" Montague said, throwing up his hands, "what else did you forget–"

"That's what we're trying to figure out," Harry snapped, "now if you don't mind, we've got work to do and I don't need you three hovering and interrupting me!"

Katie closed her eyes. There was something nostalgic and soothing about Harry screaming in rage.

"Well why can't we–" the voices dimmed, then disappeared. She was back in the hallway with the beefier, younger Montague.

"-so I could impress you with flowers even," Montague ranted on, "a piece of jewelry would blow your mind, eh Bell? You'd be my girl in three days, max."

"Well, you've got me there," Katie drawled, "I'm won over in seconds by someone with three galleons. Line up, boys, girls, professors, dragons–"

"I've got a lot more than three galleons," Montague said, "and I've got more to offer than money."

"Do you?" Katie sneered, "all I see is you blathering about money. What else? Your propensity for cheating during Quidditch games? The fact that you're a bully?"

"Are you still mad about me flipping you?" Montague demanded, "I told you, it was Wood's shite grip he taught you, not that you'd ever blame precious Wood for anything–"

"I was referring to the million other ways you bully people, actually," Katie said, "do I really need to list them?"

"Just because I stand up for myself, when the rest of this school likes to hate everything Slytherin–"

"For no reason, of course," Katie said, rolling her eyes, "you poor innocent saints, the rest of us are just so mean to you. Well? What else do you have to offer me aside from money, Montague? I'm waiting."

"Athletic ability," Montague said, "my intelligence, my witty personality–"

Katie audibly guffawed.

"-my charming nature–"

"Now you're just trying to make me laugh,'' Katie said, "I suppose it's working. Thanks. Yes, I'm being won over by your grotesque family wealth that you didn't earn at all and your ability to make fun of yourself. I'm sure I'll kiss you in no time now."

"Who said I wanted to kiss you?" Montague snapped.

"You, I believe," Katie said, "remember? You could've picked anything as the prize for winning our bet and you picked kissing me."

Montague's whole face and neck were red now. Had he thought she hadn't noticed that? Of course, it was to make fun of her with his mates like Warrington had with Leanne, but still. Since it hadn't happened, she could definitely twist it to mock him.

"You're the one who wanted me on my knees kissing your feet," Montague said, "but you should've just said what you really wanted, Bell. Me on my knees kissing your pussy."

Katie's brain shorted out for a second. She'd never even thought about doing something like that. It had taken her a moment to even interpret what he'd meant. She was alone in a corridor with the much physically larger Montague. She had to get away, now.

"No, I think that's what you wanted,' she blurted, "in your dreams, Montague!" She darted forward, panicking, and kicked him in the knee just like Isla had taught her to do if someone attacked her. Montague yelped and fell over, and Katie ran off, heart hammering. She had to tell Leanne that she'd been right!


"Pssst. Bell. Bell!"

"Oh no Katie," Leanne hissed, "it's him! Keep walking."

"Who?" Katie asked stupidly, looking about as they made their way to the stands to watch the first task. She was wearing a shirt with Potter for President on it in pink glitter. Leanne was wearing a shirt with Harry's face surrounded by a lion's mane. Montague strode into view, for once not surrounded by his gang of idiots.

"Ah, Christ," Katie hissed, "walk faster, Leanne!"

Montague had left her alone for a solid month after she'd kicked him in the knee, aside from glaring at her during meals and if they happened to spot each other in the hallway. That's the way she preferred it, even if she had changed her grip on her broom after practicing it a few more times and discovering Montague had been right, the fucker.

"Bell!" Montague said, louder, like she just hadn't heard him. He jogged the last few feet to them.

"Go away," Leanne said at once, "she doesn't want to talk to you."

"Why?" Montague asked, ""worried she has feelings for me?"

Katie looked around, horrified, but Ange, Alicia and the twins were nowhere to be seen. In fact, barely anyone was in sight, they'd been running late for the task due to perfecting their shirts.

"Don't make me vomit," Katie said, "I just ate. On the other hand, vomit on your face is what you deserve after that comment."

"I suppose," Montague said, "I was an arse to you last month. Sorry about that."

Leanne made a surprised squeaking noise.

Katie raised an eyebrow.

"I shouldn't have said it would take no effort to get you to be my girlfriend," Montague said. Katie raised another eyebrow, "that was bollocks, I know you're not like other girls."

Leanne raised an eyebrow.

"Ah yes," Katie said, "insult all other girls to me. That'll do it. I love a good sexist pig."

"I wasn't–you're putting words into my mouth!"

"No she isn't," Leanne piped up. Her voice was a bit squeaky. Katie knew how much it must be tormenting her friend to talk back to one of Warrington's friends who knew about their awful encounter.

"Do you mind?" Montague said, "I'm speaking to Kat-Bell."

"Don't you dare call me Katie," Katie said threateningly, "we're not mates."

"I wouldn't want to be," Montague retorted, "it was just cause she was saying Katie–whatever. Can I talk to you alone?"

"No," Katie and Leanne said together.

"Please?" Montague asked. He'd taken a deep breath before, like he'd never said the word in his life and had to brace himself. That was probably true.

"Two minutes," Katie said, "I want to watch the tournament. I heard a rumor that there's dragons involved."

"Katie," Leanne protested.

"It's fine," Katie said, "I left him injured last time."

"True," Montague said, "especially to my pride."

Leanne walked ten feet away, a frown on her face. She turned, crossing her arms, and stared at them. "No further," she called over to Montague.

"Tick tock," Katie said. Why had she agreed to talk to Montague? Perverse curiosity?

"I didn't mean to insult you," Montague said at once, "I was uh. Lashing out. I know you're not impressed with money."

"Maybe I am, and you're not rich enough," Katie lied coldly.

Montague snored. "Impossible," he said, "I'm really rich."

"Great talk," Katie said, rolling her eyes, making to walk away. Part of her hoped that Harry didn't have to face a dragon. She liked Harry, but the odds he'd get eaten alive weren't low. On the other hand: dragons!

"I just meant, that's what I like about you," Montague said in a rush, "you don't care about my money."

"A lot of people don't," Katie said, "I'm surprised you didn't know that. Decent people are impressed with character."

"I'm not around many decent people," Montague said.

"Obviously," Katie sighed, "If I accept your shite apology, will you go away now? Everyone's told me for years I wouldn't see dragons unless I traveled to Eastern Europe, and now here they are! I don't want to miss this."

"Yeah, sure," Montague said, "do you want to make a new bet? On the tournament?"

"Absolutely not," Katie snapped.

"Why?" Montague asked, "don't believe in Potter? I'll let you bet on Diggory. I'm sure you prefer him, just like every other girl–"

"Harry is a great guy," Katie said frostily, "he'll win the tournament."

"Because he's a Gryffindor?" Montague scoffed.

"Because he's amazing," Katie blustered, "he'll win easily!" She was lying, of course. Harry was going to get flattened by the other three. Unless the tournament's three tasks were who could irritate Draco Malfoy the most, who could enrage Snape the fastest, and who had the greenest eyes.

"Let's make a wager," Montague said, "if Potter wins, I'll–"

"Katie!" Leanne shouted, "time's up!" Katie turned, making to walk away. She was getting bored now.

"If Harry wins you can wear a Potter for President shirt to your next pureblood ball," Katie tossed over her shoulder.

"If someone else wins," Montague called, "I still want that kiss."

"Pick one winner," Katie said, "I won't let you get three while I get one."

"Diggory then," Montague said, surprising her. If there was one person the Slytherins hated as much as the Gryffindor Quidditch team, it was Cedric Diggory. Popular, gorgeous, kind, and a good Quidditch player? Clearly Diggory was a monster.

"Yeah sure," Katie said, because why not? Either Viktor Krum or Fleur Delcaour were going to be the ones who actually won. They had been studying and practicing for ages. Their headmasters were helping them cheat to win. Dumbledore would rather roll in honey and cover himself with bees then help one of his students learn magic in his free time.

"I'll hold you to that, Bell!" Montague called as she joined Leanne.

"Hold you to what?" Leanne asked at once.

"Oh, he thinks Cedric is going to win the tournament," Katie said, "whatever. We have a new mission this year."

"Yeah?" Leanne said.

"Find me a cute guy for my first snog," Katie said, "what do you think about Eddie Timmons in Ravenclaw?"


Got a date for the dance yet? the parchment read. Katie looked at the owl delivering it. He hooted at her severely.

"Who do you belong to?" Katie said, puzzled. she turned the parchment over. Nothing. She examined the broken seal closer. "What the fuck!"

"Something wrong, Katie?" Fred asked, leaning over to snag a piece of toast. He craned his head to read the parchment, then choked on nothing.

"What?" Leanne asked, bewildered, also looking at the parchment. "What the bloody hell!"

"It's a joke," Katie said firmly. It took some effort not to look at the Slytherin table like she wanted to, "he's messing about with me."

"Definitely," Leanne agreed, "his stupid mate asked me two days ago. Warrington."

"Warrington?" Fred frowned, "I thought he asked Ange last week."

Leanne went pink.

"Fred," Katie hissed. God, boys were so stupid.

"Well I guess I was his backup then," Leanne said, "I told him to get bent anyway."

"Good for you," Fred said, "tell Montague to shove it up his arse," Fred said, handing her back the parchment, "what kind of terrible invite is this, anyway?"

"This coming from the man who shouted his across the room to Ange?" Katie said.

"Exactly," Fred said, "so you know it's bad if I'm saying it."

"He could've at least got you flowers," Leanne agreed, "his mate did."

"You said Josh Mins got those for you," Katie said accusingly.

"They were nice," Leanne said defensively, "if I told you they were from Warrington, everyone would've said to throw them out!"

Katie and Fred nodded. It was true.

"That's it," Katie said, "I need a date. Fred, who is George going with?"

"You, I guess," Fred said, "I dunno. I mean he planned on asking a girl he planned on snogging that night but if you need a date…"

"She clearly does," Leanne said, "I mean, Montague? Gross."

"So George wouldn't snog me?" Katie said, mildly offended.

Fred grimaced. "You're too young."

"I'm one year below you!"

"Alright, you're too…"

"What?" Katie snapped. Why was going to the Yule Ball with Montague now sounding like a better option than a pity date with George? She handed a slice of bacon to the still glaring owl and it hooted, then flew off.

"You're just not his type, is all," Fred said, clearly realizing he'd stepped in it, "I mean you're amazing! Pretty and funny and all, but–"

"He's not my type either," Katie said, wounded, "forget it. What about uh, Lee?"

"Going with Cassidy Jones," Fred said, "You can go with Ron," Fred sniggered, "he's still without a date."

"That's it," Katie said, "I'm going alone."

"No you're not," Leanne said at once, "then Montague will try to dance with you!"

"Doubtful," Fred said, "he's just messing about, asking you. He'll laugh at you if you say yes. win some points for the scorecard."

"Uh, what?" Katie said, "what scorecard?"

Fred froze, mid toast chew. "Huh?"

"I said, what score card?" Katie repeated.

"Nothing," Fred said, "say, what did Moody teach you last lesson? You won't believe what he showed us yesterday–"

"Fred," Katie snapped, "what are you hiding from me?"

"Alright fine," Fred hissed, eyes darting about. "Don't tell George or Oliver I told you. I mean it. And don't tell Ange. But especially don't tell Alicia!"

"I make no promises," Katie said.

"Then I make no explaining words come out of my mouth," Fred retorted.

"Fine," Katie said. She could always break her promise later if need be. She wasn't a Hufflepuff. Lying didn't always phase her.

"They've got a bet on," Fred said from the corner of his mouth, "Warrington, Pucey, Montague, Bletchley, Flint."

"Another bet?" Katie said, "Montague's bloody obsessed with them. He must live a dull life."

"I'm sure he does," Fred said, "what other bets is he trying to make with you?"

"About the tournament," Katie said, "on who wins. We've got some dumb wager."

"What's he get if he wins?" Fred said sharply.

"She said she'd kiss him," Leanne said with disgusted zeal.

"Hark who's talking," Katie said out of the corner of her mouth. Montague might look like a beefy meathead but Warrington! She'd done her best to support Leanne without judgment, but she'd snogged a boy with the looks of a sloth and the personality of an evil sloth!

Toast flew from Fred's mouth.

"It's what he wagered for," Katie said fast, "not me! I didn't want to kiss him. I told him he'd have to wear a Potter for President shirt to a pureblood ball when I win."

"Ah fuck," Fred groaned, rubbing his eyes, "George was right. I hate when George is right. It's so boring. He's always trying to make us more responsible."

"Translation?" Katie said, her eyes drifting to the parchment. What was Montague playing at? Thank god no one could read her mind. She was disgusted, of course, but part of her, a very tiny part, was excited that she'd finally got an invite to the dance. Sort of. Even if said boy was repellent human waste, and the invitation was only a vague insinuation, and not at all romantic. Colin Creevy had asked her, but that hadn't counted. Even after Katie had pointed out he couldn't even go as a third year unless he was invited by an upperclassman he'd persisted.

"But you can invite me! You're an upperclaswitch!"

He'd grinned, and then asked her to hold a nearby broom to pose for a photo. Katie had posed grudgingly, using her new grip without thought.

"I'm already going with someone," she'd lied wildly, "uh, next time?"

"I'll hold you to it," Colin had grinned, but of course, there had been no next time. Not for Colin.

"George said we should tell you all," Fred said gloomily, "Oliver and I convinced him otherwise. Now I have to tell him he was right."

"About?" Katie prompted.

"He said we should tell you lot about the wager," Fred sighed, "I said it was a bad idea, Alicia would toy with the Slytherins for sport, make everything a mess."

"Fred," Katie bit out, "don't think you can ramble long enough that I will forget this conversation before you get to the point."

"The boys have got a wager on you three," Fred said, "you, and Ange and Alicia."

"What kind of wager?" Leanne asked sharply, "just them? Or…" she drifted off, clearly thinking about Warrington but not wanting Fred to know about her embarrassment.

"I think so," Fred said, "the wager is er. Juvenile."

"Why are you hedging like this," Katie said, "you never hedge, Fred. Just spit it out, I'm not delicate."

"And that's why we love you," Fred said soothingly.

"Fred, so help me, if you don't get to the bloody point–"

"They are trying to sleep with you lot," Fred said, "or at least, get you to kiss them or hug them or go on dates with them or something. I assume that's what Montague is up to with all this."

Leanne gasped.

"And you didn't tell us this, why?" Katie said. Leanne might be surprised, but she was the least surprised she'd ever been in her life. Of course that was the explanation behind Montague's terrible attempts at flirtation. It made a million times more sense than anything else.

"Like I said, I was sure Alicia would mess with them," Fred said, "and maybe you and Ange would as well. You know, kiss Montague, flirt with Pucey, go on a date with Warrington, get them fighting each other while you all laugh at them behind their backs."

"Of course we would've," Katie snorted, "maybe I still will. That's hilarious! Can you imagine them fighting mid match against us next year? We'll win the cup for sure!"
Fred looked at her like he'd never seen her before.

"What?"

"I didn't know you had it in you," he said, "I knew Alicia…"

"Sounds like a laugh," Leanne agreed. She was still a bit pink cheeked but covering well, "you should've told them, Fred. Then they would've had the power. They would've had the control, and not those boys."

"Exactly," Katie said, "this is perfect, I'm not calling off this bet! I can torment Montague all year with this."

"Why don't you go to the Yule Ball with him while you're at it," Fred snorted.

Katie looked at the Slytherin table, her mind whirling.

Montage was looking at her. He cocked an eyebrow. It was a question.

"No," Katie said, "I'll go with Blaise Zabini."

"What?" Fred and Leanne said in unison.

"I can't believe you actually came with Zabini," Monague sneered to her back. Or he tried to sneer. The Weird Sisters were playing, so he had to scream. It was almost impossible to scream and sneer at the same time.

"Inter house unity," Katie said to the ice sculpture of a swan, not turning around as she poured herself more punch, "Dumbledore loves it."

"You could've come with me," Montague said, and Katie schooled her face into one of polite confusion before she turned around, "that's inter house unity."

"Oh, did you ask me?"

"I–you got my owl, I saw you!" Montague said, "we made eye contact!"

"Was that from you?" Katie said, "I didn't see a name. Or an invite, for that matter. Someone just asked me if I had a date yet."

"Bell, are you a lot stupider than I thought, or are you messing with me?" Montague said.

"Oh, I'm stupid," Katie said, "really stupid. How much would coming with me have won you?"

There was a beat.

"What are you talking about?"

"Cute," Katie snorted, "really adorable. continue to play dumb, it's one of your strengths." She made to go back to Zabini, who was wearing the best robes at the dance, slouching against another ice sculpture with a bored expression that indicated he was better and cooler than anyone else. Her feet didn't move. Zabini was already driving her mad, and it was five minutes into the actual dance portion of the ball. He'd at least been tolerable during dinner, even cracked a phantom of a smile at one of George's jokes. She forced herself to start picking her way through the crowd. She couldn't let Montague think she actually preferred talking to him over Zabini, even if it was true.

"Fifteen points," Montague said abruptly. Katie paused.

"What?"

"I would've gotten fifteen points," Montague said.

"How many for a kiss?" Katie said, squishing past a vigorously dancing pair of boys from Durmstrang.

"Twenty-five," Montague said, "who told you? I can deduct from the board for that."

"No one," Katie lied, for it was deeply amusing to think of Montague accusing one of the idiot Slytherins and maybe fist fighting him, preferably if he picked Flint to accuse, when it had been Fred. She hoped he would pick a fight with Flint. Flint would pound him into mincemeat, giant hairy forearms be damned. "I'm not a dunce. You've been horrid to me for four years, and now–"

"I actually wanted to come with you," Montague said, "it would've been fun. Instead you came with the black hole of joy that is Zabini."

"I'm having fun," Katie lied.

"I'm sure," Montague said, keeping pace with her, "that's why you were staring at the punch for two solid minutes without moving, yeah?"

"I was planning my winning strategy to get Zabini in love with me," Katie said loftily.

"Does it involve covering yourself in piles of money and ruining my life with elaborate schemes?" Montague asked coldly, "because that's what gets Zabini's motor running."

"Good to know," Katie said, "so, how much would sleeping with me get you?"

"Fifty," Montague said, "but come on. We both know you'll never go for that."

"Oh, won't I?" Katie said, vaguely insulted and not knowing quite why.

Zabini finally spotted her. His eyes drifted, and saw Montague trailing her like an angry boiled ham. Even his robes made Montague look pinker. Silver was not his color. Zabini grinned, and stood up straight. There was a sparkle in his eyes Katie had never seen. Zabini spent all his time acting like a half comatose cat. It was startling that he could even muster the energy to smile.

"No, we both know you're a prissy little tease," Montague said, "don't deny it. I know the type."

"Well that makes your bet on fucking me okay then," Katie said, "you bloody pig."

"I didn't–that wasn't the bet, not really! It was just who could win one of you over."

"Oh that's better," Katie said, "then why is there points for sex?" She glanced back at Montague, "you look terrible in that color, did you know that?" He was so red he could pass muster as an actual flame now.

"My mother picked it out for me," he said stiffly, "but if you think–"

"Oh look at that, Zabini looks happy," Katie said, "did you know his mouth could do that?"

"Considering his principle goal in life is tormenting me, yes," Montague said shortly, "you know he just asked you as a twisted attempt to mess about with me?"

"Whereas you asked me as a twisted attempt to win a bet with your loser friends,'' Katie said, "what would you get, by the way? If you win the whole thing. I'm curious." They almost got knocked over by a pair of Hufflepuffs in the year below Katie who were vigorously thrusting around. Ernie, maybe?

"Zabini isn't in on it," Montague warned her, "so whatever deal he made with you, half the winnings or whatever, you won't get. Don't bank on it."

"Noted," Katie said, "so you're saying he asked me of his own accord, for real reasons, unlike you."

"I just told you that he asked you to mess with my head, Bell!"

This entire exchange would have ended if Katie would just admit that she'd been the one to ask Zabini. He'd laughed when she asked him in the library, and said he should've thought of it first, and told her he'd send her a red set of robes to make Montague really angry. Katie hadn't asked further questions. The red robes had been exquisite.

"And why is that?'' Katie asked, "do you get negative points now, since I came with someone else? No longer in the lead, Montague?"

"I was never in the lead!"

"So who is?" Katie jeered, "Flint, for that time Ange almost kicked him in the balls? It hit his thigh, but I know you're all so sad and hard up you might count that as a handjob or something."

Montague was purple now. "You're not as prissy as I thought," he shouted after her finally.

"Sorry to ruin the illusion," Katie scoffed, for she had it all worked out.

Montague was one of those boys with a fetish for corrupting innocent girls. If she just ruined that image, he'd leave her alone. Sure, she'd never even kissed a boy before. But he didn't have to know that.

"Pucey is in the lead," Montague said, "if you really want to know. Spinnet told him if her date didn't work out she'd come to the ball with him. He got half points for that."
Katie laughed. "I see you're all doing well, then. What's next, half points for me telling you to fuck off because the word 'fuck' was involved?"

"Darling," Zabini drawled, popping up out of nowhere, as he also generally moved like a comatose cat, "there you are. It's been five minutes, but it's felt like eons, not being in your presence."

He was wearing an impeccable set of silver robes. Come to think of it, they were quite similar to Montague's, but nicer. They also didn't make him look like a boiled ham.

"Are you even stealing my clothes now, Zabini?" Montague sneered, "that's pathetic, even for–"

Zabini snaked out an arm, drew Katie to him, and kissed her, so suddenly she didn't even have time to close her eyes for her first kiss.

"Let her go!" Montague said loudly, and Katie felt herself being yanked away.

"Do you mind?" she said. Zabini wouldn't have been her first choice for a first kiss, but he wouldn't have been her last, either, and now she couldn't even enjoy it!

"Why should I let her go?" Zabini said, "she likes it. Bad luck, Graham. Now you'll have to find a new girl to stalk. It's such a shame every girl always likes me better."

Katie was torn. Zabini was an unrepentant arrogant arse who was snogging her in public for what did look an awful lot like an attempt to enrage Montague in some sort of pissing contest. But at least he hadn't made a bet on kissing her. At least he hadn't spent years tormenting her. The first words they'd ever spoken was Katie's terribly unromantic invite.

"Listen," she'd said, "yes I'm a Muggleborn and we don't even know each other, but I need a date and I also want to make Montague mental. Want to take me to the Yule Ball?"

"She doesn't like you," Montague said, and his hand was still on Katie's wrist.

She felt metal digging in, and saw one of those giant crest rings the Slytherin rich boys were so fond of wearing, even if it made them look like middle aged men with ego problems. Accurate, at least.

"Twenty-five points to Zabini," Katie said under her breath, meeting Montague's eyes with vindictive satisfaction. His fingers tightened.

"She likes me," Montague said, not looking away from Katie, "as you very well know, Zabini, which is why you asked her here. You're so fucking pathetic! Stop trying to steal my life. My father will never love you more, you know."

He was still staring at Katie, who hadn't torn her wrist free yet, out of some sort of stunned deer effect. This was the most dramatic thing that had ever happened to her. Alicia had boys fighting over her with fists and wands on a weekly basis. Ange was more zen, but at least had had Roger Davies attempt to snog her in front of Fred a few weeks before. Leanne had had a torrid forbidden fling with Warrington. Katie? She had Colin Creevy, a thirteen year old, a full head shorter than her, taking pictures of her and winking and asking her to a ball he couldn't even attend.

"Does he even like you, Graham?" Zabini snorted, "He loves you more than me? Please. He took me to Greece last summer. For a full month. while you thought he was busy in London doing important business."
Montague's face twitched, but he still hadn't looked at Zabini, in some sort of power play between them.

"You'll always be second best," Montague said, his hand holding Katie's wrist gentling a little. His thumb rubbed the inside of her wrist. Ew!

"I see I'm intruding on family dramatics,'' Katie said, pulling herself together. Everyone was losing their minds over an extravagant dance and The Weird Sisters and foreign hot witches and wizards, and the lighting had gotten dimmer, but that still didn't mean she should be in the middle of a catfight with two Slytherins in would be repercussions.

Montague had a very strange look in his eyes. She'd never seen it before in him, or any other boy. What was he doing? He leaned forward, his thumb on her wrist, probably feeling her suddenly racing pulse and misinterpreting it. Almost too late, Katie realized what he was doing.

"Fuck off!" she shrieked, tearing her wrist away, slapping Montague in the face. He had been about to kiss her! At that exact moment, one of the Durmstrang boys had ripped off his robes to a guitar riff. He had at least fourteen abs. No one was looking at Katie.

Zabini laughed, as Montague stumbled back a bit, an even redder mark on his boiled ham face. He was disgusting. He repulsed her. He'd been about to force a kiss on her in public to win a bet with his mates! To do some sort of bizarre one upmanship with Zabini, even when Zabini's lip prints were still on her! Like Katie was a dog treat to fight over!

"What did I tell you," Montague sneered at them, "a frigid little prude. Have fun with her, Zabini. Hopefully the blue balls will kill you."

"Hopefully a blast ended skrewt will kill you," Katie retorted, turning and shoving her way through the increasingly raucous crowd.

"You're fun," Zabini said to her back. He was apparently following her. Great. "That's surprising. We should never tell him you invited me to get under his skin. This will hurt him for years."

"Great," Katie said, voice clipped. She made a decision without thinking about it. "Want to snog again?"

There was a loud argument that didn't fit this memory. The room tilted.

"-this is dangerous, why is she–what is she doing, she looks like she's in a trance!" Montague was shouting.

"She's just getting her memories back, is all," Harry shouted, "let her get her memories back! Unless you're trying to hide something, Montague?"

"How many times do I have to tell you I'm not involved in this?" Montague demand. Katie's eyes focused on him. It was unnerving, to see how much he'd changed since her fifth year. Even his skin didn't look like a boiled ham anymore. Had he messed about with charms on his face even more than he'd admitted to?

Ron was playing with a model figure of Oliver Katie had half forgotten she'd created after taking apart one of Krum she'd gotten from the world cup and rejiggering. She'd been proud of that little bit of magic, even if now it was a bit disturbing of her in retrospect. Hermione was somehow focusing and reading a book while Harry and Montague screamed at each other. Even more surprising, was that Katie owned a book Hermione wanted to read.

"I really don't think he is, Harry," Ron said, making Oliver swoop around Katie's teenaged jewelry collection. There were far too many dolphin and peace signs featured. Montague's eyes narrowed on the tiny flying Wood.

"Even that Wood has a shite grip," he said under his breath.

"You said there was no sex bet!" Katie shouted, sitting up so fast her head spun worse than ever.

Everyone else in the room jumped.

"Katie!" Hermione said, clutching at her chest like she'd successfully fought off a heart attack, "You're awake!" Ron said, "good, you did look a little creepy lying there with your eyeballs moving around so much behind your eyelids like you were possessed–"

"You swore and swore!" Katie said, "you finally said you asked Pucey and then you said it was a dating bet, but that was a bloody lie! You admitted it, to my face! Fred told me, and–"

"Are you confused about the Triwizard bet," Montague said, "I can't believe you forgot that, too, Bell! I won that bet, then you tried to renege on our–"

"The sex bet!" Katie screamed so loud her throat hurt. "you said there was no sex bet! But not only was there one, we talked about it! So explain that, huh? Explain how you're not involved with my memory loss when you actually talked to my face about the sex bet, and you know it! You know I forgot that conversation!"

"Bell," Montague said cautiously, "I told you I have memory loss because of that cabinet. I don't know what–"

"Explain why you told me again all about Zabini an hour ago like you thought I didn't know, when you confronted him right in front of me during the Yule Ball, telling me his chief goal was making your life miserable! You two basically said right in my face that he was your unwanted half brother, and now you're pretending you have nothing to do with my memory loss–"

"That isn't fair," Montague argued, "I have memory issues too! I can't fly like I used to! My brain is all fucked up as well, and somehow that's a crime and what you've done isn't. I knew you were forgetting something, that's the whole reason we're going through all this mess! I knew when you took Zabini off the list you'd forgotten about him for some reason, but a sex bet? I told you there never was one, Adrian said it was a dating bet, Weasley made it up to get you mad at me, make me look like–"

"And explain Leanne!" Katie said, so angry she lunged out of the bed, almost fell over a pile of stuffed animals, and righted herself on the chair Hermione was sitting on. She was reading a copy of Witches Who Lost Their Minds and Their Friends Who Suffered For It. It was clearly a copy she had bought recently. It did nothing to improve Katie's mood.

"Leanne?" the other four occupants of her room said in unison.

"Your…friend from school?" Montague said cautiously, like Leanne was nothing and nobody, and he was struggling to remember her. It didn't help Katie's rage that she was apparently just as forgetful as Montague of her own best friend.

"What about her?" Hermione said, frowning.

"Explain what happened!" Katie said, her rage making her incoherent.

"What what happened?" Montague said, the incoherency catching.

Katie was so angry she was almost crying. What had happened to Leanne? Why had she never even thought about it? She'd remembered Leanne being her friend, after all. How had she never wondered at the fact that Leanne hadn't been in her life in years? That Katie never thought of her, not really, just surface level stuff, never visited her, never called or owled.

"Did you make her forget me?" Katie said, tears filling her eyes, "why? Did she try to stop me from–from getting with you?"

"What?" Montague , Ron, Harry, and Hermione said in unison.

"Hey kids," Bill Bell barged in, glasses askew from the giant pile of DVDs he was holding. Katie saw the prominent logos from Star Wars and Back to the Future, as well as a copy of ET and Die Hard, a movie where, come to think of it, the villain looked an awful lot like an older version of Snape who actually cleaned himself. "What's this I was hearing about a sex bet?"


Author's Note: I had to split the flashback extravvvvaganzaaa into multiple chapters so it wouldn't be even longer between updates. In Katie's defense at the end of this chapter, she's very disoriented by the return of all these memories and her realization about Leanne. Hope you enjoyed!