A/N: Hey guys! Sooo have you watched the Avengers yet? UGH it has utterly consumed my LIFE, hence this chapter being posted a week late. I'm sorry, it's just that UGH WHAT IS PERFECT I loved the Avengers :( And they're all so HANDSOME :(((((

So this chapter is for OliverWoodLuvr, who understands all my feelings :(( Anyone else want ScarJo and Jeremy Renner to just get together already?

Anyway I've kept you all waiting long enough! Enjoy! Review! x

CHAPTER 8 – Surprises

That same evening, Oliver walked up to what he was sure was Katie's front door. Earlier in the day, he'd bribed Percy Weasley into divulging her Muggle address – it was Ministry protected, after all, and Oliver had never needed it to send post via owl. It had taken a few Galleons worth of shiny new cauldrons (Percy's weakness), but Oliver managed to obtain it. The stealth was ultimately necessary – he'd never been to Katie's Muggle home, and he didn't want to ask Katie for her address if it meant he'd ruin his surprise.

Yes, Oliver liked surprises. He used to claim otherwise, but he realized that surprise was a good tactic (especially in Quidditch!), and that he enjoyed catching people (mostly opposing Chasers) unawares. What he didn't like – and there was a difference, he always argued – was him being surprised.

So when Mrs. Bell let him into the house, it much to his stupefaction to discover that he did not get there first.

"Wh-what are you doing here?" he spluttered at the two men seated before him. His brows set into an incredulous frown.

One man smirked at him in greeting, while the other sat still, unmoving.

Mrs. Bell looked back and forth between them, a tiny frown creasing her forehead. "Oh! You boys know each other?" she asked lightly. She'd been pleased to find Oliver at the door, although she hadn't counted on him reacting so strongly to their present company. Oliver's jaw clenched, and Gladys Bell wondered if she'd ever seen him look so irritated. Or so handsome. She never could deny her little crush on her daughter's friend. Even her husband knew! Inwardly swooning, she unabashedly reached out to give Oliver's tight arm a squeeze. "Ooh."

One of the two guests in their sitting room stood up and dusted off his jacket. If he was at all surprised to see Oliver, it didn't show on his face. In fact, he looked quite smug in his crisp outfit. He put on a charming smile and responded suavely, "We know each other very well, madam. Wouldn't you say, Wood?"

The Keeper grunted in response, veritably shaking in anger. He didn't want to make a scene, so he bit his tongue. Ignoring the smirks of the present company, he turned to Katie's mother and asked in a controlled, polite manner, "Mrs. Bell, I presume, then, that Katie is home?"

"Yes," she gushed, "I already told her that you boys were waiting. I didn't know that you would be here, too!"

"It's quite alright," Oliver dully replied. He sat himself down on the sofa. More coldly he said, "I suppose business is business. I'd really just be in the way."

Mrs. Bell, for one, thought it strange to have three hunky men – well, two, really, and one oddly silent one – asking to see her daughter on the same day. It actually tickled her fancy: "If only they were here to propose, or something," she clucked inwardly. If she had to choose, though, she'd pick her favorite, Oliver. The other man ("What did he say his name was?"), though obviously wealthy and debonair, looked rather devilish and dangerous, not to mention a bit old for her only daughter. "Yes, yes," she decided, "It would be lovely to have Oliver around more often."

"So," she clarified, "You're all here for, er… Katherine?"

Oliver eyed his company. The one who spoke earlier chuckled, "We are, but I assure you, madam, I've no clue as to why Wood decided to swing by as well."

Mrs. Bell hardly had the time to form any speculations when Katie herself stepped out of her room. The group heard her before they actually saw her trot down the stairs.

"Dad?" she called. "Pop? Where are you! I haven't seen you in days –" She stopped in her tracks when she passed the living room. "…Oh," she breathed.

"Katherine," her mother said a little tightly, "I hope you recall my mentioning we had guests? You don't look very presentable right now."

Katie blushed deeply, and pulled the sleeve of her T-shirt a bit higher. Water dripped from her still-wet hair. "Sorry, I'll go get changed."

"There will be no need for that, Miss Bell," came a formal voice from behind Mrs. Bell. Katie glanced past her mother, but her eye skipped the men in business attire and went straight for the most familiar figure in the room.

"CAPTAIN!" she squealed, and rather unceremoniously ran towards Oliver, who stood up to welcome her into his embrace. "Ow, ow, my muscles still hurt. I can't wait to tell you about today!"

"Sorry," he chuckled, releasing her. He looked up, and his face went stony quite quickly. "Uh, Kates? This might not be the best time –"

"Katherine!" her mother admonished, now more than a little irritated. Nothing got on Gladys' nerves as much as bad manners or poor decorum did.

Katie apologized for the second time that evening. Stepping away from Oliver, she turned to greet the other people in the room.

"Darling," her mother began, "These wizards came to see you. They are from… what was it, Oliver dear? Puddlemore?"

Katie's heart raced with hope. "Could it be?"

"No, Mrs. Bell," Oliver began, embarrassed. "I play for Puddlemere, but –" he was cut off yet again by the man in the polo.

"Miss Bell," he said smoothly, "It's a pleasure. I really wish we could have met sooner – I'm Brevis Birch, captain and owner of the Tutshill Tornadoes."

Katie's heart could not have dropped more quickly. The Tutshill Tornadoes were among the best in the League – they'd won last season and had a staggering fan base. But they weren't Puddlemere, like she'd allowed herself to hope. "Oh."

"And this is my teammate, Merwyn Finwick. Keeper." The silent, burly man over his shoulder nodded his head in greeting. Katie was wary of him – the way he flanked Birch was reminiscent of how Crabbe and Goyle used to follow Malfoy around. In fact, Birch himself reminded Katie a bit of the blond that had given her that stupid necklace back at Hogwarts. Hot, but totally sketchy. His whole aura felt off. She took a step closer to Oliver, and felt a little safer when he put a supportive hand on her back.

Katie could actually have slapped herself for not recognizing them immediately. She looked again between the Tutshill players and Oliver, and realized with some horror why her former teammate was glaring at them with such animosity. That one time Oliver got suspended for three games in the previous season? Yeah, it was because of a post-game altercation involving him and none other than Brevis Birch. Katie knew not the particulars, although she recalled snippets of Oliver's vague letter of explanation. Dark magic? Cheating? Someone knocked unconscious? Sod her poor memory! All she knew was that Oliver absolutely despised foul play. He was a most honorable person, so Katie was sure he must have been in a rightful, raging fury to even consider participating in physical violence outside the pitch.

Sometime in her absorption in this, she managed to remember that Brevis Birch had addressed her. "Uh, sorry. Hi." Smooth.

Birch languidly smiled and extended his hand. "You may already suspect why we are here. Finwick and I came over because we'd like to discuss your possible future in the sport with Tutshill. Pray, may we have a few minutes to speak alone?" He glared pointedly at Oliver.

"Erm…" Katie awkwardly shook Birch's outstretched hand, but looked to Oliver for support. The Puddlemere Keeper looked adamant, and at that moment he didn't want to move from the spot. He wasn't about to leave his Chaser in the hands of this… this… reprobate! Well, that was probably the word Oliver was looking for, except his anger seemed to have caused his vocabulary to evaporate right along with his tolerance for Brevis Birch.

"I'm not leaving this room," Oliver said stoutly. Gladys Bell looked on, confused and torn between worry and admiration for the young man. Brevis Birch took a different approach, and turned to Katie's mother.

"Mrs. Bell," his voice was laced with honey, "My colleague and I wish to discuss a possible professional Quidditch contract with your daughter. She is very talented, you see, and it would be a great boon to the Tornadoes to have someone like her on the team. She probably takes after you. And we know it takes a lot of understanding to support this kind of activity. You'd understand if we just wanted a minute to talk? This could be the best decision she'll ever make, and I'm sure you've trained her to make wise choices."

Katie almost snorted, thinking, "Flattery's not gonna get you anywh-"

"Oh, yes, yes," giggled Mrs. Bell nervously. "I completely understand. Come along, Oliver dear, let's go see what my husband is up to. Katie? Darling? You'll be fine, yes?"

Katie dropped her jaw in disbelief as her Hufflepuff of a mother half-pushed, half-smothered Oliver out of the room. (Not that there was anything wrong with Hufflepuff, Katie amended. Sometimes they were just a little easily distracted.) She stood up straight, feeling a little defensive. She wasn't even sure why – she just had a bad gut feeling about Mr. Birch and his slicked back hair, with nothing else but a vague memory to back it up.

"So, Miss Bell," he got up to inspect her. "We've gone through some lengths to come here, you know."

"How'd you find my home?" Katie said, feeling oddly brave.

"Ministry contacts," smirked Birch. "There's little money can't get, and your protected address was no exception. I'm sure Oliver Wood – Puddlemere – went through the same to find you, and I can offer you a better deal than they can."

"Oliver's my friend," Katie said emphatically. She considered, however, that Oliver had never actually been to her home. How did he find her? She didn't recall handing him her address. Never mind. "It means he can come over whenever he'd like."

"Can he now." Mr. Birch sounded nonchalant. "Look here. I'm offering you a spot on our reserve team, one you won't keep for long. I intend to fire two of my Chasers – no one likes a lazy bum, and I haven't been happy with them as of late."

Katie imagined the Tornadoes' lineup in her head, counting off whom he could have been talking about. Mr. Birch observed her, a calculating look on his face.

"That's right, think about it. Two slots, one of which could be yours."

"I'm sorry, sir, I've already received an offer," Katie hedged, "to play first string for another team."

"Puddlemere!" the Tornadoes owner was almost incredulous. "You don't need to play for those losers! You can go and tell your boyfriend that I'll be paying you twice what they're offering."

Katie was quickly losing her cool. Who did this prick think he was to come in here and act like he owned the place? And did he honestly expect her to sign?

"Well," she cocked her head. "Why me, though? And why should I play for you?"

"Oh, don't you want to know? You're one of us," he announced, almost too quickly. He had a dark glint in his eye that made Katie recoil a little. In the background, Merwyn appeared to be nodding off. Birch shot him a glare.

"P-pardon?"

"When my scouts told me about your little predicament, I knew immediately that you could handle our more… intense methods."

"I – I'm not sure I follow, sir."

The manic look in his eye only intensified. "When I took over this team in '95, I knew that to make the Tornadoes a winning team – a champion team – some changes needed to be made. The current style of training? It's obsolete. Muggle methods? Even older. All of that is paltry shit compared to the magic we use with our players. What I can do, Bell, is give my players immunity. Collisions, falls, injury? It'll hurt. You'll bleed. But ultimately you'll be impervious to all of that if you signed on. You'd be able to play on like a Muggle robot."

"And… why would that be?" Katie's knees began to shake, but she didn't want it to show.

A grin creeped onto Birch's face. "Ah, but that is for me to know, and you to find out when you sign. Let's just say your little brush with that necklace assures that you won't…"

"I won't…?"

"You know. Adjust badly and die. Your body can take our rigorous methods, you've proven as much. You'd be unstoppable, you know, with us. Exciting, no? Many a great man would jump at the chance to be the same." Birch's smirk was utterly unnerving at this point. Katie didn't need to ask another question to confirm her suspicions – the Tornadoes, who sat at the top of the league, were there thanks to dark magic. Exactly what magic, she didn't know, nor did Birch say. But she really didn't want to find out.

But did the Ministry know? Was anything being done about this? Questions swirled around in her mind, but she steeled herself to refuse him. But first…

"There has to be a catch."

"There is none."

"Side effects? There have to be some."

"None that matter in the grand scheme of things. The side effect is victory, my dear girl."

Yup. This guy was bonkers. Katie took a calming breath. She was honestly terrified. "Well… Thank you for your offer. I'm highly honored. But I'm sorry, Mr. Birch. I'm going to have to refuse."

"Then you have misunderstood my offer."

"No, sir, I understand perfectly. But I've been signed, you see." Okay, maybe a little lie was in order.

"Puddlemere? They're a bunch of girls –"

"I am a girl. Puddlemere United is a fine team, sir, and I would be honored if they offered me a chance to play with them. But as it happens, I've just signed with the Harpies. And… there's no backing out of that." Katie stared him down. Her Gryffindor courage had certainly not let her down today.

Momentarily stunned, Birch held up his hands to admit defeat. He flippantly sneered, "Feminism. It'll get you nowhere, kid. But okay, don't say I didn't warn you."

He walked over to where Merwyn was snoring and shook him awake. "Get up, you lazy lout, we're leaving."

In a scarily quick maneuver, he grabbed his groggy Keeper by the arm and thrust both their bodies into the fireplace. A second later, they were gone.

Katie slumped onto her couch, tired and confused. To say some of her expectations weren't met was an understatement, but she was glad that the Tornadoes made her choice an easy one. "It's final," she thought, "I'm signing with the Harpies."

Shouting from the next room caught her attention, and she realized belatedly that Oliver was in her home. That still needed some explaining.

She opened the door into the hallway and walked into the kitchen, where Oliver was pleading with her father. "But sir, they've gone silent! Those men can't be trusted! Merlin knows where Birch could have taken Katie by n– Katie!"

Oliver jumped over the island and pulled Katie towards him, knocked the wind out of her. "Are you okay? What did that slimy git tell you? He didn't make you do anything, did he? I swear to Godric I'll – "

"It's cool, Oliver, nothing happened. I sent them packing." Katie blushed into his chest. Oliver kept his arms around her in relief for a few more seconds, until a polite hiccough reminded them that they were not alone.

They couldn't have jumped apart faster. Katie's parents looked on; her mother looking positively gleeful and her father, though amused, looking a bit more concerned.

"Oh, um," Katie tucked a strand of damp hair behind her ear. "Hey, Pop."

"So what's going on?" Ed Bell said in his growly voice. "I don't see you for a couple days and then I find out my baby's going to go pro? Give it here!" he laughed heartily and waited for his daughter to run into his arms. She obliged most happily.

"Pop I've been wanting to tell you! I'm gonna play for the Harpies!"

Oliver heaved a sigh of relief and ruffled his hair.

"I'm so proud. And good thing too," laughed Mr. Bell, "Because those goons were so close to giving this 'un a heart attack."

"Hey," Oliver defended. "I got suspended because of Birch. He's not the good sort."

"I watched that game," Mr. Bell agreed. "You fellas fought hard. But I could have sworn something was off. They tampered with your brooms, didn't they?"

Katie was surprised at her father's perceptiveness. No one else seemed to be of that opinion except Oliver and the folks at the Quibbler. Oliver was only too willing to recount what had happened that game: Puddlemere had been neck and neck with the Tornadoes around three hours into the match. It had been a particularly gruesome one – Beaters on both sides were bloodied, as were several Chasers on both teams. Oliver himself had only been a little roughed up, until a forced foul gave Tutshill the advantage of a penalty shot.

Oliver had steadied himself as the Tornadoes lined up to attempt the shot. He had an uncanny sense of balance, and when he was in the zone, he and his broom were like one. So he was utterly shocked when, instead of going left to block the Quaffle like he'd intended, he'd gone careening right. He would have let it pass as a bad fluke, if it hadn't happen once, twice, three more times after.

Three hard fouls and three missed penalties? That would never happen on Puddlemere's watch, and certainly not on his. There was some dirty stuff going on. Oliver couldn't help but notice that Birch had never gone in for the penalty, nor was he physically involved in any of the hard fouls. No, Birch was just flying along, staring intently at the scene of the foul and muttering. The Keeper knew a curse when he saw one – he'd witnessed Snape (or wasn't it Quirrell?) trying to knock Harry off his broom, after all. Luckily, Puddlemere's Seeker, Benjy, had managed to catch the Snitch and end the game. No one had gotten seriously hurt, just badly knocked around.

At the press conference, Birch had the gall to insinuate that Puddlemere had done the dirty playing, and outright called Oliver an idiot, among other things. The Keeper did not take this sitting down, and walked over to punch the Tutshill owner in the face. Chaos ensued, and both Oliver and Brevis Birch were suspended for three games apiece by the end of the fracas.

"I broke his nose," Oliver said somewhat proudly, and the Bells nodded their heads in approval. "Although he did give me a nasty hit to the gut."

"At least he left that handsome face of yours untouched," murmured Mrs. Bell fondly, and Katie felt herself blush right along with Oliver.

"Didn't he sue?"

"No, because he knew that I knew what they were doing. In fact, I haven't told anyone. Maybe it's because I was hoping the authorities already knew. They probably do know… And Birch probably paid them off." The Keeper had a bitter expression on his face.

"Quidditch can be pretty nasty, even outside the pitch." Mr. Bell commented, although it didn't need to be said. "Baby," he told Katie affectionately, "I'm glad you didn't sign with those hobos. I don't know why the idiots at Puddlemere didn't make you an offer instead, but I'll just have to wear green in your support from now on."

"Aw, Pop," Katie punched his shoulder, "You love Puddlemere. Maybe you can just cheer for us both!"

"Will do, baby girl. Now your mother and I better head upstairs. Make sure you eat some dinner – she's already forced food down that one's throat." With a nod to the pair, Ed Bell took his giddy wife by the hand and went upstairs.

"I was actually hoping you'd get an offer," Oliver admitted once they were alone. "But I have something better for you." He clasped his hands together and leaned in conspiratorially.

"I don't think I really wanna play on a team whose initials are 'P.U.'"

"Original." He pulled back.

"What's better, though?"

"Well, Birch kind of ruined it, but I suppose the surprise can wait until tomorrow."

Katie was dying of curiosity. She tugged on his sleeve. "Wait, what is it?"

"It's a secret, Bell," he winked, a naughty smile on his face.

"Mystery doesn't suit you, Captain," she told him this time. "Neither does mischief. Save it for Fred and…"

She said it before she could stop herself. Oliver pursed his lips, suddenly more serious. Katie tried to save the conversation.

"Anyway… How'd you get my address? I don't recall you asking for it."

"Oh, that." He tried to hide a grin. "I, er… I might have bribed Percy Weasley into giving it to me?"

"What!" Katie laughed. "Is nothing holy and protected anymore? What if you were a serial rapist or something!"

"Hey, don't talk like that. He did it because it's me we're talking about here. It cost me a shiny sickle, though."

"Oliver Wood, stalwart protector of damsels' virginity."

"Hey," Oliver actually went pink. "I'll have you know – "

"Pray, what was Poncey Percy's price?" (Katie rather she didn't know.)

"He cracked after I sent a silver cauldron, and then a copper one that sings 'You Stole My Cauldron but You Can't Have my Heart'."

"I worry about him sometimes. And you."

"Mmm. But hey, Celestina Warbeck wrote our anthem! It's only fair I know her other stuff."

"Mmhmm."

"Well at least I'm here."

"You're here," she agreed, and they shared a smile.

"So," said Katie when it got a little weird, "Wanna tell me what the surprise is yet?"

"Nah," Oliver replied. "But you best be up early tomorrow!"

"Ol!"

"Kates!" he mimicked her whiny tone. Katie hit him on the shoulder.

"Ow," they said together.

"My whole body hurts now," Katie informed him. "I trained like anything. And Gwenog dislocated my elbow, you know."

"What!" Oliver cried. "Well, I suppose she has a fondness for bashing people into oblivion. But I thought that was limited to men. What happened? Are you alright?"

Katie assured him he was, and showed him her wicked bruise. "I'm gonna get it autographed," she whispered, and proceeded to tell him the events of the day. Being a Quidditch maniac, Oliver listened all too happily, projecting his opinions and advice here and there.

As it neared midnight, Katie saw Oliver to the front door. "Tomorrow?" she asked.

"Tomorrow," he smiled. "Bright and early." He walked down the short steps and gripped his wand. "Oh, and Kates?"

"Yeah?"

"Good night," he offered her a smile.

"Good night, Captain," Katie smiled back. With a small pop, Oliver Apparated away.

A/N: Squee! Thumbs up for Protective!Oliver! Unrelated, but now that you're here, I just wanted to tell you to watch What's Your Number, just because Chris Evans is in it. He's hilarious. And handsome (#swoons).

Til next time!

x

Izobel

P.S. This is the last - PLEASE REVIEW! I really, really would love to reach ONE HUNDRED reviews by the time I post the next chapter. Hint hint... Okay, now I'm just bribing.