AN: I've been watching a lot of the Office. Forgive me in any Pam/Jim creeps in. I've been working really hard to avoid it. =]

Chapter Eleven
The Future Freaks Me Out
I'm on fire and now I think I'm ready.

It took my healers a while to forgive my little jaunt. Kent, normally bubbly to the point of irritating (Oliver thought he fancied me, I'm fairly certain he's gay) was strangely grumpy and almost grimly triumphant when he informed me that, due to my 'recklessness', my release date had been pushed back another few days.

Hm. Sigh.

"We also," he added airily, fluffing my pillow in an unnecessarily violent manner, "were finally able to get in contact with your family. They're coming in today.
"Hahahaha-" I took another look at his smug face. "What?"

xoxox

Now don't get me wrong. I love my parents, I really do. It's just that… well. They're muggles. And the wizarding world has always been a bit of a conundrum to them. And the last thing I needed was my overprotective mother to suddenly ban me from playing Quidditch or practicing magic or – or - … did I tell them I was rooming with Oliver? Shit.

Just as all of this was whirling around my head, the door was knocked upon and thrown open in the same beat.

Eileen Bell had entered the building.

"Darling!"

She descended on me in a flurry of excitable kisses and exclamations. My mother is what you'd call… old school. She wears pearls and well-tailored dresses all the time. She still believes in elocution lessons, and girls that know how to waltz and wear white gloves. (Apparently, there's a specific way. Don't ask me. I've worked really hard to forget.) But she's sweet and she's loud and she doesn't understand the very first thing about magic, bless her.

She refused point-blank to go into hiding when I asked her, declaring "This you-know-who fellow simply doesn't know what he's getting into! Bells do not run from anyone, Katherine. We stand and hold our ground. And possibly send sternly worded letters to the county board." (Did I mention she's the only person who still calls me 'Katherine'? I hate it.) Dad, on the other hand, is quieter and softer, and followed the whirling dervish of my mum into the on old leather shoes, concern in every worn line of his face. We get on very well, Dad and I. He even let me try to teach him how to fly. I don't think he quite fancied it, but he wasn't half-bad.

"Mum! Dad! I – ow, Mum, you're crushing me – I –"

My mum was bloody everywhere. In fact, she was so overwhelming, I almost missed the unmistakable shape that sidled in after them, grinning snarkily at the over-enthusiastic greeting.

Oho, Ollie. Shut up.

"I really cannot believe, Katherine, that you never told us! Or that any of your charming little friends didn't contact us! I mean, we've only known Angelina and Alicia for years, and no one thought to tell us you'd nearly died? Goodness, honey, I've just been a disaster. I mean, it was lovely of this young man-" she cast a massive smile in Oliver's direction, "to phone us, but really, Katherine."

"I'm so sorry, Mum. I-"

"And you're so skinny, Katherine…"

As she babbled on, she deposited her things into the only available chair, gesturing wildly.

"Telephone?" I mouthed covertly at Oliver, eyebrows raised, honestly a little impressed.

He winked at me.

"…and are you still rooming with the girls in London, dear? On that strange little street? You just never call us anymore, sweetheart and we really do worry, with all these magical disasters…"

"It was a total accident, Mum. It could have happened to anyone. And they're doing a great job patching me up here – see –" I gestured at the bottles scattered over my endtable.

My parents had slowly come to trust the hospital over my long stay, but were still wary of magic. The idea that there was something as innocuous as a necklace that could have put me out of commission for months terrified them.

My dad was watching our exchange with his own trademark half smile. He was nearly as tall as Oliver, but bookish and thin where Oliver was wide and burly.

"Easy, Eileen. Go easy on her. She's had a rough time of it." He walked over to push my hair out of my face. "How're you feeling, Kat?"

"I'm pretty good, Dad." I grinned. "So…you two have met Oliver?"

"Yes! Is he the one you kept mentioning…?"

"I-"

"Because he is cute," she stage-whispered and then winked at me.

"Mother!"

I'm going to kill you.

"At least someone appreciates my boyish charm." Oliver offered, sauntering over in a totally unnecessarily attractive way.

"If you're appreciated anymore than you already are, your ego would swell to dangerous proportions."

"You wound me, Bell. Mrs. Bell, thank you." And he smiled oh-so-smarmily at my mother. Wood. Stop it.

"Such a cutie," Mum said affectionately, patting him on the arm. "When are you going to get a boyfriend, Katie? I like him."

"MOTHER."

"I'm just saying, sweetheart, that you're young but, well… grandbabies… someday…"

"Dear god. Please stop. Please stop right now."

"Honey…" Dad started.

"I was only saying!"

"Oliver is just my roommate, Mom!"

Oops.

Mum froze and turned, creepily slowly to me.

"Excuse me? You said you were rooming with Angelina and Alicia. Girls."

"Eileen-"

"Martin. Not. Now." She narrowed her eyes in a way that made me want to shrink into the pillow. "You lied to me, Katherine. You're staying with a boy? You, an eighteen-year-old girl? What will people think?"

"Oh, bloody hell, Mum-"

"Language!"

"No one knows! None of your friends know, and none of my friends care. And besides-"

"You have nothing to worry about, Mrs. Bell." Oliver was stepping, totally unaware of the danger he was putting himself in. Don't do it Oliver. She's like a basilisk. One look can kill. Don't-

"Katie's like my little sister. I simply thought that, in the wake of such dangerous, unpredictable times we've been having in the wizarding world that it would be safer for Katie to live with someone who was…. Looking out for her. I'd never try anything, Mr. and Mrs. Bell. Trust me."

Oliver. My big brother. Great. A sudden surge of bitterness filled me. Of course Oliver wouldn't try anything. I wasn't super skinny and tanned and blonde.

I was so lost in my angst that I almost forgot about the situation at hand. Mum was considering Oliver closely, clearly pondering some intangible. "You know that Martin and I care very deeply about our daughter."

"As do I-" Oliver, added, quickly. I bit back a smile.

"But I can't lie and say I hadn't wished I could be there with her all the time. You do seem like a good boy, but…"

"Give him a chance, Eileen." Dad was finally cutting in. "And give Katie some credit. She's a good girl, and she's a tough girl. Oliver seems like a nice boy, and I trust Katie's judgment. And it's not like they're dating, anyways."

I smiled awkwardly.

Mum still looked grumpily on the edge.

"Annnyways," Oliver cut in, smiling broadly. "Mrs. Wood, I think you promised to tell me that story about Katie's first day of kindergarten?" I glared at him. Shook my head.

"Don't you dare." I mouthed.

"With the feathers and the housedress?" Oliver grinned evilly. Baby stories always tipped mum over the edge.

"Oh, heavens. That story. Well, when Katie was young, she had the strangest obsessions…"

Oh god, kill me now.

xoxox

Nearly an hour of embarrassing stories later, I was sitting, still mortified with a wildly engrossed Oliver. My mother, now, simply adored him, seeing as he cheerfully and politely listened to every terrible story she could dredge up from my childhood. I do have to hand it to him, however, that we successfully avoided the topics of Quidditch, my living arrangements and magic, meaning that my parents were kept happy. After some promises to call more often and visit the home, and some half-hearted arguing about the hospital bill with my father, (What? They're my parents – who am I to say they can't still pay my bills? Don't give me that look.) they finally decided to clock out, promising to visit me again before my release.

The very moment the door clicked shut, I descended on Oliver.

"You absolute bastard! You terrible, smarmy, snarky git!" I cried, whacking him repeatedly over the head with one of Alicia's magazines.

"Mercy, mercy!" he laughed, catching my arm easily and unquestionably. "It was just too easy, Kat. Besides, they needed to know. And what can I say? Mothers just love me."

I groaned.

"Oh god. I could have killed her."

"I liked the one where you turned the one little boy blue. Annndtheonewhereyouwetthebed'tilyouwere12."

"Ugh, you mean Jacob? He was just so awful! Wait. What?"

"I mean, twelve." He beamed.

"SHE TOLD YOU THAT?"

Oliver was actually roaring with laughter.

"I HATE YOU! I HATE HER!"

"Ohhhh, no, no, no…" he chuckled, pulling me into an irresistible hug. "You don't hate us. Nahhh," he whispered into my hair, laughter still rippling through his chest. "Besides. I almost think it's cute. It's cute she remembers all of those stories, anyways. And you don't wet the bed now, anyways, and that's what's important."

I could feel the blush rushing down my cheeks. "Can we please never talk about this again?" I mumbled into his chest. "I don't think I can take any more embarrassment today. Ughhhhh let's just leave the country now. Let's just never, ever see my mother again."

"Awww." He ruffled my hair. "You're cute when you're embarrassed. And, you know, not peeing."

"I know where you sleep, Wood. Keep talking. I dare ya."

Oliver froze at my menacing little whisper.

"That's what I thought."

And for the second time that day, the door banged open with a crack!

And the entirety of the Puddlemere United professional Quidditch team, complete with, from what I could see, flowers and chocolate, with an utterly bemused-looking Coach Bard, froze in the doorframe.

Aha. Excellent.

xoxox

"Coach!" Oliver leapt off of my bed in record-breaking time. "Guys! I… I didn't realize we were visiting today!" He was awkwardly scooting away from me, hands deep in his pockets, embarrassment suffusing his face.

Awkward silence filled the room.

"…hi guys!" All eyes snapped to my face. "That's… so sweet of you to visit me! Uh. What's up?"

Thank the lord for coaching instincts. One look at all of our bewildered faces and Bard took over. "Bell! Good to see you up and, uh, functioning."

I winced.

"The team here," he continued, waving to include the entire room, or (possibly) the entire wing, "and I agreed that it'd be best form to come visit you! And suchlike. Since Wood's been pretty much MIA from every recent session," he raised an eyebrow at Oliver, who backed further into a corner, grinning sheepishly.

Aha.

"…he probably missed these plans. Bell, do you have any clue how difficult it is to get the damn boy to focus? If this weren't all the bloody fool Farrow's fault, I'd really like to give you a stern talking-to about the state you've put my team in. We've got a match in a week!"

I blinked. He'd changed tact without any warning.

"I… I'm sorry, Coach, did you want me to apologize?"

"Oh, heavens, no," he waved away my question like an irksome fly, whacking Kieran around the head as he did so. "Oh, bloody hell. Boys, put down those damn things. File in, you lot!"

The team headed in obediently, cautiously spacing themselves out into the tiny room, Charlotte catching my eye to smile briefly.

"Right. Well, Ms. Bell, we here at Puddlemere would like to apologize deeply for the actions of our former chaser."

"Former?" Oliver looked just as confused as I did, his eyes fixed on Bard's bushy mustache.

"Yes, former – dammit, Wood, you should know this – I terminated Eric's contract this morning. This whole… incident was the sort of press the team didn't need, and, generally, the icing on the rather nasty cake Eric was."

An odd image of Farrow dressed as a cupcake popped into my head. I blinked. Ew.

"So," Bard continued, oblivious to my strange mental images, "Our lawyers wanted me to have a chat with you about this… madness. And the team and I wanted to have a chat about-"

"Oh, just get on with it, Coachie!" Hannah piped up from the corner where she sat with Charlotte.

"Really," Jordan added. "This is dragging on, Coach. It can't possibly take you this long-"

"Alright!" Coach shushed him with another extravagant arm gesture. "In exchange for you not trying to press charges for all of this, I'd like to offer you the – currently temporary – position of left-wing chaser."

"Excuse me?" I must have been hearing wrong. That almost sounded like-

"Would you like to play quidditch professionally, Bell?"

My jaw dropped.

"Seriously? You're not… you're not kidding?"

"I don't kid, Bell." His eyebrows drew sternly together and, in that moment, I suddenly realized that Coach Bard looked just like Gimli the dwarf. Crap. What a terrible moment for a really funny discovery. Must tell Oliver.

Oliver. Woah. I'd be going to hours of practices with him. Playing Quidditch. All the time. Making money.

Oh my god.

"Oh, do it, Katie! It'd be brilliant to have another girl on the team!" Hannah was grinning, slinging an arm around Charlotte. "We always feel like such a minority. Plus, you're-"

"You're a damn good flyer, Bell. A little rusty, but if what Wood here tells us is true, you've proven yourself a good player at Hogwarts. This is the big leagues, but I'm willing to put a bet on you making it, Bell. What do you say?"

"What about the reserves?" Wasn't there some sort of… rhyme or reason to how these things normally played out?

"You'll be on probation, of course, but the second string boys have none of the flair we need. They're fine to sub in but they have no… no spark, Bell."

"Katie."

"Bell."

"Oookay."

Keiran winked at me. "He doesn't call anyone by their first name. It's a coach thing, I think."

"Well?"
"I – uh –" I stared around the room wildly. "Yes! Of course yes!" Hannah cheered.

Oliver stared at me.

"Is that it? I'm just…. I'm just on?"

"Pretty much." Coach grinned.

I'm going to be a professional Quidditch player. I'm going to be a professional Quidditch player!

The Future Freaks Me Out - Motion City Soundtrack