A/N: Slight change of plans! I was trying to make sense of how the League worked out in 1999, and it's kind of weird to me that a league comprised of 13 teams could go on for almost a year. So I'm sort of condensing the events to fit the purposes of my story :)

Also, I apologize for two things: first, this monstrously long chapter, and second, for not replying to some of your reviews! My email has been acting up lately :( But one review that made me laugh my head off came from an anon named Benj (boyfriend of Liz, I think?) and so I'd like to give him a shout-out. Thank you for reading, and I hope Liz can help you out with this whole FF business :)

As always, I hope you enjoy! Please do leave me a review – comments, suggestions, constructive criticism are all welcome.

CHAPTER 4 – Compounds and Contracts

Katie sat in front of her closet, wringing her fingers. What to wear to an interview? When she'd gotten home from Oliver's, she said a quick hello to her bewildered mum, ran upstairs and locked herself in her room. After reverently removing Oliver's sweater (and perhaps sniffing it a bit longer than necessary), she jumped into the shower and gave herself the best scrub of her life.

That was the easy part, so now she sat in nothing but a towel, despairing over her range of clothing. She finally selected a classic beige origami dress, deciding that the slim fit skimmed her athletic figure without sacrificing her femininity. The beige hue accentuated her tan, and the delicate details at the neckline implied that she was… well, a classy person.

"I am a classy person," Katie repeated to herself, zipping the dress up and accessorizing with a skinny belt and a gold watch. She slipped her shoes on – sleek d'Orsay pumps – and finally gave herself the once-over through the mirror. She nodded in approval, giving her reflection a high five.

The hair and makeup that followed after was a quick process. Katie took her wand, blasted her hair dry, and gathered it in a messy French twist at the nape of her neck. And since she didn't want to look too polished, she settled for mascara, some blush and a pop of pink gloss.

Katie glanced at the clock: 10:26 a.m. Her meeting was for noon.

"Someone's excited," she chided herself. She settled for cleaning the small mess she'd made, and then snuggling with Oliver's sweater awhile. She caught herself in the middle of thinking that Oliver looked much better in blue – Puddlemere's old mud-brown robes didn't quite complement his eyes the same way the new blue ones did. Yes, blue was a good change. She clutched the sweater tighter. Its scent, clean and masculine, was soothing to her, and melted away her interview jitters. So occupied was she that when she finally glanced at the clock, it read 11: 45.

Rummaging through her laundry pile, Katie found the pouch containing Lara Svityensky's Portkey. Katie slowly opened it, and, glancing once more at Oliver's sweater, dropped the miniature snitch in her palm. Katie felt something hooking around her waist as she was pulled into the swirling vortex of the Portkey. No sooner than it had begun, Katie felt herself land on some grass. She instinctively jumped up, afraid she'd stained her dress. Upon confirming that she was casualty-free, she charmed her dress creaseless and took in her surroundings.

She stood on a neatly manicured park, with flowers and beautiful trees surrounding the landing. A few yards away, a high stadium stood in stark relief. It looked like a very sleek, feminine structure, with big, curved windowpanes to let the light and the air in. Nearby were two low-rise buildings not unlike those she'd seen at Oliver's place. Katie suspected that they were probably offices, if not condominiums. Katie observed the green Holyhead flag waving upon a pole. The pole next to it boasted the Quidditch League's flag. Happy to be in the right place, she walked towards the stadium.

As she approached, she noticed a burly-looking woman standing tall by the high doors of the entrance. "Excuse me," she said shyly, "I'm Katie Bell. I'm here for an interview?"

"Miss Katie Bell?" the guard asked. "Miss Lara is expecting you. Right this way, please."

"Oh! Thank you, um," Katie peered at the security guard's name tag. "Martha. Thank you, Martha."

Martha gruffly gestured for Katie to follow her. As they walked down the bright, carpeted halls of the stadium, Katie could feel her blood pumping. Everything looked so elegant that she couldn't help but feel out of place, even in her dress and heels. She let her eyes roam upward into the high chamber, and gasped to see hundreds of ethereal-looking snitches zooming about freely in the sunrise-colored atrium.

"They're victory Snitches," grunted Martha before Katie could ask. "Match dates are engraved on 'em. The ceiling's a sentimental piece, charmed like yer Great Hall at Hogwarts to look like a cotton candy sky. Like dawn, y'know? The Harpies filled the room up with all the Snitches they've ever won by. Pretty, when they ain't flyin' right atcha."

"They're beautiful," Katie agreed. She wondered to herself if it was anything like the flying keys Harry had described seeing in his first year at Hogwarts. "What was he doing again? Looking for some kind of stone?"

Remembering her former Seeker and teammate roused feelings of nostalgia within Katie. She zoned out, pondering on whether she should drop by Angelina's and Alicia's soon – it had been far too long, and she missed them. She missed their team and their friendship, and she had so much to share! Katie resolved to write them, and only hoped that she'd love it here just as much. Provided, of course, that her interview went well…

A quick elevator ride brought them to a box. It was no ordinary viewing box – it was decked out like a fine café, with a pastry and coffee bar, plush couches, coffee tables, and dining tables. The café also overlooked the expanse of the Quidditch pitch, and Katie could spy women flying in an intense scrimmage against phantom figures.

"Wow," she breathed, absolutely star-struck. The Gwenog Jones was down there. She would meet the Gwenog Jones, and all the rest of them! She would be playing with them!

"Wow is right," came a voice from behind her. Katie jumped and turned around, embarrassed. "I'm Lara Svityensky. Nice to finally meet you, Katie Bell."

"It's – it's very nice to meet you too, Miss Lara," Katie shook Lara's hand. "You'll have to excuse me for being a little nervous. This is… this is pretty big. Are we in – "

"Wales? Yes. Welcome to Holyhead. I hope you're not too nauseous? This is quite far from your London home. Mercury's quite sore at me, you know, for writing you so often. But who understands the magic of owls?"

"I'm feeling fine," Katie replied. "The prospect of coming here was a bit more daunting than the actual travel."

"Well, let's get right to it, shall we? We have quite some things to discuss. Oh, and you can just call me Lara."

Lara thanked Martha for her assistance, and then led Katie to the table nearest the pitch. On the table were steaming plates of seafood pasta, Katie's favorite.

"I hope lunch is to your liking?"

"It is," Katie grinned. This interview was starting on the right foot, indeed. Lara asked her several questions about herself, not too many related to Quidditch. Katie felt more at ease with this sort of interview, for she was not a girl of many secrets. Her life wasn't too interesting, save for her Muggle job. When their conversation lapsed into contemplative silence, Katie looked out the window at the Harpies – her future teammates, perhaps. She mused that it seemed too good to be true; they were so near, and yet so far.

"Count 'em, Bell, go on."

Katie knew without doing so that they lacked a center Chaser. "They're only six," she said.

"Correct. I need seven for this team to function, and my scout believes you're the one to fill Joan Gafton's spot." Joan Gafton was the Harpies' star Chaser, only she'd died in the Battle of Hogwarts a couple months prior. Much speculation surrounded her death, with many contending that she was, in fact, a Death Eater. The Harpies tried to cover this up as much as possible, and even Katie did not know whether or not it was true. Gafton, after all, was a very controversial player. She wasn't afraid to play dirty, and she got the job done. Fans were divided between admiring her and hating her, and that fact in itself left Katie some very big shoes to fill, personality-wise.

"Forgive me for asking," replied Katie, "but why me? I've been out for the longest time after the cursed necklace thing, and I've pretty much been a Muggle lately."

"I think the question is, why not you?" Lara smirked back. "You see, Miss Bell, we keep tabs on our potential players even after they graduate. And why would we want to let go of a Chaser who managed to singlehandedly score an average of 6 goals a game back in school? Let me tell you, your batch of teammates and opponents were pretty rough compared to others. Between now and next season, there's even more time to improve."

"I had help," Katie blushed. "My teammates…"

"They helped, all right. But it was the way you played that had us interested for some time now. You're a born entertainer, Bell, and our scout was certain you'd charm men and women alike. We're a creative team, and we love to entertain our fans. Of course, we also wanted you because you passed the first and absolute requirement."

"I'm... female?"

"Bingo. Everyone that works at Holyhead wields something men both fear and revere – a lady part."

Katie had to laugh. "I knew the Harpies was an all-witches squad, but I didn't realize that even management was all-female. How awesome!"

"In this day and age, we don't actually have the right to reject men who apply for jobs anymore. It's considered gender discrimination," admitted Lara. "But men just tend to think we don't hire them, so they don't apply, nor we advertise gender-based positions. Anyway I don't think they'd enjoy working in an all-female environment."

"All female except for me, of course," came a deep voice from the café's entrance.

"Miss Raul!" cried Katie in shock, "You're… you're here! I was gonna tell you, I wasn't just going to quit my job, but –"

"Relax, Katie," laughed Raul Guido as he exchanged air kisses with Lara. "Who do you think scouted you for the Harpies in the first place!"

Katie sat back in her seat, dumbfounded. "You… scouted me?"

"Why, yes, I did."

"And then you scouted me for, erm, modeling?"

"Oh, don't be so surprised, my dear," Raul tittered, "It's what keeps me sane during the off-season."

"So that's why you knew my name when I met you!" It was all beginning to make sense. "And that's why you made me work out! You were keeping me busy!"

"You could say that. You were so awkward it was adorable. I was keeping you fit for your own sake. And it wasn't a waste of time, now, was it?" he winked. "Love the dress, by the way. Trés chic."

Katie squinted at the scout, ignoring his compliment. "Miss Raul, you have been one sneaky man! And my letter said my scout was a 'she!'"

"Do forgive me. You were always a favorite of mine. And my name is Miss Raul, have you forgotten? I hardly count as a man."

"It's all good," Katie relented, straightening her features out.

"Now," Lara interrupted, "I hope that's all settled. Should you agree to fill a spot on the team, Katie, we'll start you out with a monthly salary of…" Lara scribbled a number on the paper napkin and pushed it towards Katie. The younger woman's eyes nearly bugged out. "Whoa. That's way too much! Are you sure you didn't forget to place a decimal point somewhere there?"

"Don't be so modest. It may be unwise of me to repeat, but I mentioned in my letter that there's talk that another team wants to acquire you. It's your choice, of course, but this salary among other perks is what we're willing to offer to have you play for the Harpies. It's not even as much as you'll make if you stick around longer. Business is booming for Quidditch now that the Dark Lord is dead. Stocks are high. People will want to see games. Do well and they'll come to see you play, even in the friendly matches. They'll invest in us."

"Lara, you're bound to shock her!" laughed Raul. "Let's finish lunch before bombarding her with details, hmm?"

"Oh yes, where are my manners?" The astute manager seemed genuinely shocked by her own behavior. "Forgive me, do finish up. Afterwards we can take a tour of the facilities."

Katie happily polished off her pasta, and Lara gestured for her follow her and Miss Raul. Katie felt she might hurl from excitement.

Down another grand hallway, Lara and Miss Raul chatted lightly about the team's merchandise and the junior cheering squad – topics which interested Katie very little. Instead she followed behind them, and lingered a little to examine the posters and memorabilia framed along the walls.

"1953", one placard read, "Holyhead Triumphs over the Heidlberg Harriers of Germany." Katie had read as much as she could about the famous seven-day match, but she'd only dreamt about how it might have looked when Rudolf Brand, the Harriers' captain, proposed marriage to the Harpies' captain, Gwendolyn Morgan when the whole game ended. And now she was staring at the moving picture above the placard, which depicted, clear as day, Miss Morgan herself bashing his head in with her broomstick.

"Classy," thought Katie in awe. She couldn't help but feel bad for Rudolf Brand. Every time she'd concuss him, either the photograph would reset itself, or Brand would get amnesia and forget having proposed in the first place.

Katie tore her eyes away just in time to see Lara and Miss Raul turn a corner, and she ran as fast as her heels would allow in order to catch up with them. As she reached the corner, the pair turned to check if she was still there.

"I thought we'd lost you for a second," chuckled Raul.

"Sorry about that," blushed Katie. "I just got caught up –" Before she could apologize further, Lara opened a glass door into what looked like a temple for pampering.

"The spa." Lara gestured past the reception area. "In through there are the locker rooms and showers. After training, the players may then proceed to take their showers and ice baths, and then here for mud baths, massages, seaweed wraps, saunas, facials, manicures, hair and make up, or whatever else they might feel like."

"Wh-what?" Katie couldn't understand. Wasn't Quidditch a manly sport? And yet here the manager was, pointing expertly at the various, decidedly unmanly facilities that the Harpies boasted. "This is not what I expected at all."

"Let's just say we know how to keep our girls happy," winked the manager. "They might be able to play at par with the gentlemen, but they're still ladies, after all. And what lady doesn't like being pampered after a long, hard, day?"

"Would you like to meet the team?" asked Miss Raul. "They should be in the locker rooms in a bit."

"Would I!"

"Hang on," said Lara. "That can wait until the tryout. If you don't mind, Katie, it's just for formality's sake. If you haven't been convinced that we do want you, then I have just one more thing to show you. You live with your parents, yes?"

"Yes," said Katie, wary of where Lara was going with this.

"Well, you're of age now. And given your busy schedule, you may want to be situated somewhere closer to our training stadium. Within this very complex, perhaps?"

Katie's jaw dropped. Oliver had already told her about how some teams offered their players their own private lodging, but it hadn't occurred to her that she might be offered a place, too. It really was all taken care of, wasn't it?

Lara took her hand and Apparated away. They landed some yards away from the stadium before what looked like seven small, cozy bungalows situated by a lake. Katie spied front and back porches, the latter of which faced the lake. They would be perfect for watching sunrises, or just listening to the water at night, Katie thought.

"This is Harpy Lane. Not such a charming name," said Lara. "Four of these houses are currently occupied. That one is Jones'," she pointed, "And those belong to Griffiths, Geyser, and Chapman, respectively. You could have any of the remaining houses."

"And… where do the others stay?" Katie asked.

"They have their own homes outside of the compound. Grant is getting married, and Dermont has children. You understand this is a single women's compound?"

Katie nodded her head. "And… Joan Gafton?"

"Scared she'll haunt you?" snorted Miss Raul. Katie had nearly forgotten he was there. "Nay, even these facilities were never enough for the great Joan Gafton."

Katie could taste the sarcasm. Was the late Chaser really that unpopular?

"What Raul means to say," Lara shot him a glare, "is that our players have the freedom to do with their salary as they wish. Nobody is required to stay here; we simply give them the option. Joan, Merlin spare her, opted not to. You may choose to live on your own outside the complex, or have any of the remaining houses and decorate it."

"Really?" Katie cried in wonder.

"Yes, really. After training, you're free to return here, or to do as you please."

"And… what about meals?"

"I see you've heard about the meal plan," Lara chuckled. "It's not as bad as you probably think, I guarantee."

"Do I get to eat – "

"Bacon? Occasionally."

"And – "

"Ice cream? You even get extra after a bad breakup. Which, of course, I don't suggest you go about looking for. Quidditch is a very demanding career, and you may not even have time for a relationship."

Oliver's face flashed in Katie's mind, but she was quick to shake it off. They didn't have anything, so she shouldn't even be thinking about Oliver, right? It was a crush, at best. And Oliver could have any girl if he so wished it, so why would he consider her? She pondered for a second, and then opened her mouth to ask, "What about friends? Family? My, uh, my Muggle job?"

Miss Raul stepped in. "You'll definitely have time for all of the above," he said gently. "I'm not going to drop you because I think you're great at what you do. Contrary to what others in this business might tell you, Quidditch isn't everything. We want our girls to live, too, and you can invite whomever you wish over to your place so long as you handle things responsibly."

Katie gave him a questioning look, to which Raul chose to reply, "Yes, even boys. All Lara's saying is, be careful with your heart. Breaking it might affect your game, sure, but it will harm you first."

"I'll keep that in mind, thanks, Miss Raul," smiled Katie as he gave her a hug. "Although I wasn't really asking about boys so much, just so you know."

"Consider it among the Harpies' FAQ."

Their tour of the grounds had to be cut short because of Lara's next appointment, but Katie felt she'd seen all she needed to see. "I'm ready to sign," she said giddily.

"That's great!" gushed Raul, but Lara's demeanor was a more serious one.

"Please, take this home," she said, handing Katie an envelope. "It's the contract. Read it and think about it well. This is a serious commitment, one I will not have you make if you are not ready. I want you to take some time to consider everything we're offering. Tomorrow, you play with the team. Only when you've had a taste will I let you turn that contract in, signed or not. 7 a.m., Harpy Moor Stadium. Are we on?"

She held her hand out, and Katie shook it. "I'll be ready."

A/N: Review! Katie's signing that contract depends on it! :O