A/N: Happy holidays, everyone! I meant to post this by Christmas, but I'm inefficient that way. This is rather long – another 5,000 words. Downside: No Christmas stuff! Upside: more Quidditch, and more Oliver, AND… a surprise! :O What could it be?

Read and enjoy! x

Chapter 12 – Unexpected Business

The September wind ripped harshly past Katie's ears as she dodged another Bludger. The Arrows had latched onto her as a target for this "friendly" match, as she had noticed the first few times iron balls were hit her way. She clutched the Quaffle tighter, looking around desperately for a teammate. "Annie!" she screamed, but the American was lagging far behind. Wilda, too, was struggling to get around a Beater who'd blocked her. Flying further forward, Katie was greeted by two burly Chasers zoning in on her rapidly. A trap! She pulled sharply on her broom. As if her Firebolt could read her mind, she found herself two meters above the Chasers, narrowly missing collision. With a stupefied laugh, Katie looked forward to see nothing before the goal but the Keeper. Listening hard for the telltale sound of a Bludger, she shot forward to attempt to score.

She knew she wasn't supposed to, but the Arrows were kicking their behinds and Glinda had so far been unsuccessful in the Snitch hunt. Damn it all – her competitive side argued for her to take the shot, and she did so with much gusto. With deadly aim, Katie chucked the Quaffle past the diving Keeper and into the leftmost hoop. Punching the air triumphantly, she checked the adjusted scoreboard, which now read HARPIES – 50, ARROWS – 80. She looked to where Coach King was watching, trying to read her expression. She didn't get to, however, for Wilda grabbed her arm and sent them both speeding in the opposite direction.

"Head in the game, Bell," she growled. "Annie's down. You take right, I'll round up the left. We'll go for twosies until she's back."

"What – where?"

"Just go!" Wilda released Katie's arm with enough force to propel them both apart, and they zipped off to catch up with the Arrows. Katie flew past the lone female Chaser, and cautiously flanked the one who'd been holding the Quaffle. Her frenzied teammate was on his left, but his face betrayed no emotion.

Wilda screamed her name. She looked up and saw the Quaffle flying free. Briefly, she made contact with the Arrows Chaser, and they both tore after the loose ball. They collided as her fingers grazed the Quaffle, but she managed to hit it back to Wilda, who took the steal all the way back and into the goal hoop.

HARPIES – 60, ARROWS – 80, read the scoreboard.

Katie barely had time to process the goal when the Arrows took the rebound and began their journey towards the other goal again. But before any play could be made, loud whizzing noises sounded from below, where Glinda and the Arrows' Seeker, Gregory Cotton, were locked in a tight race for the Snitch. The golden ball in question had been flying around a mere foot above the ground, and all the players, meters above, looked on as their Seekers made to capture it. Katie missed it, but it was over in a second – Glinda had jumped off her broom to catch the Snitch by an inch. She lay on the grass, grinning triumphantly, as the game horn blared and the scoreboard adjusted to read HARPIES – 210, ARROWS – 80.

Katie opened her mouth to scream, but a hand clamped over it before she could. Gwenog Jones. "Relax, Rookie, it's just a practice game. You've made enough noise today, I think."

"But we won! In our home stadium! Merlin – "

Gwenog shot her a look.

"Alright."

"Good dodging, by the way. Vanns and I had… er, a little difficulty. Back there." The Captain strained the last bit. If there was something Katie knew Gwenog hated, it was acknowledging weakness. A shadow passed over her face when Katie asked about Annie, who'd apparently gotten knocked out cold by a Bludger. "She's fine now," Gwenog reported. "But she'll miss out on the press conference."

The Harpies touched down as a collective and shook hands with the Arrows. The veterans exchanged murmured compliments, and the younger players looked on slightly awkwardly. Katie glanced at the lineup, meeting eyes once more with the tanned, wild-haired Chaser she'd collided with in the Quaffle scuffle. He gazed at her intently through his cerulean eyes, and she felt a blush creeping up her neck. She looked away awkwardly, and tried not to jump when she felt Bruna poking her side. She just knew the Keeper was grinning.

"What?"

"Not a thing."

As they made their way to the locker room, Katie pondered that he might not be much older than she. These thoughts were confirmed when the coaching staff discussed the game – the Arrows were mostly young players, and they relied on their physicality rather than wit and strategy. That was the Harpies' edge on them, so much so that the Harpies could play and score even with one Chaser down. Even so, they had a lot of work to do. While each unit of players was functional, they had yet to mesh as a complete system.

"But Bell, excellent job," Coach King chirped at her. "I'm beginning to think you're Bludger-proof, young lady."

"I'm sorry, Coach."

"What ever for?"

"You said you didn't want me to –"

"To score?" Coach King waved her arm dismissively. "That was the strategy. But you see, Quidditch is about knowing when to stick to it, and when to deviate. You're ballsy, kid, I like that. And you got it right today. I'm very pleased." Katie tried to suppress a grin as the room gave her a round of applause. "Other than that," Coach King continued, "You need to focus 110%. No ogling cute blokes, Missy. What's the word on the press conference?"

"The Kestrels and the Cannons will be joining us at 4," reported Amy the secretary, double-checking her clipboard.

"Alright. Ladies, get cleaned up. We'll meet at HQ at 3. Amy, have the convoy Portkeys ready by then."

Katie took her time to clean up and ponder over the game as she got ready. It was over in about an hour, but would all games be this fast-paced? She found herself a little frustrated over certain things, like how easily distracted she was. And how Gwen and Vanns didn't quite have their backs at all times. And how truly difficult it was to be all females playing against men. But confronted with the very same questions at the press conference, she couldn't quite voice these concerns.

"Katherine! How does it feel to replace the great Joan Gafton on the Harpies lineup?" asked the one interviewer as the floor opened for questions.

"Well, I, er –" Her own amplified voice startled her a little.

"Miss Bell! What about the Tornadoes' offer? Why did you choose not to play for the number one seeded team in the League?" screamed another reporter. Flashbulbs went off.

"Katie Bell! You're the first rookie player the Harpies have fielded in three years. How does that make you feel?"

"Uh, I –"

"How do you feel you will contribute to the Harpies' current difficulty with meshing together, in spite of their history?"

"Do you think the season will be tough playing in a male-driven sport?"

"ENOUGH!" Gwenog banged her fist on the table, silencing the crowd. "Let her speak. And you," she glared at the reporter who'd ask the last question, "You take that up with me." He nodded timidly, terrified.

All eyes were on the young Chaser, quills at the ready. Katie cleared her throat, but chickened out of answering the last few questions directly. She wrung her fingers and settled on a diplomatic answer: "Er, it's too early to say. But I'm lucky to have a great set of mentors and teammates, some of whom," she glanced at Jones, "Are both to me. I'm just one girl on a team of amazing women, and I'm very happy and grateful to be here."

The press clamored for more, but Coach King shouted, "Just two more questions!" The press groaned in disapproval. Coach King held her ground. "That's what you lot get for being so damn impatient." They quieted down.

"Miss Katie!" one hand shot up, taking the chance. Katie nodded in its direction. "How has training been given your medical history?"

She wrung her fingers. "If by 'medical history' you mean the curse, fortunately I've long since made a full recovery, and it no longer affects me. I'm not gonna lie, though, training's been tough. Most especially," she grinned at Coach King, "The early morning hours. But I'm getting there, and I feel ready." This answer, she found, was the truth. In the couple of weeks she'd been training with the Harpies, her body had already begun to change. She'd gotten leaner, faster and more muscular. She also ate more.

Hands shot up and Katie picked one reporter from the back. "Miss Bell! What jersey number have you chosen?" Katie laughed. She watched as the journalists in the room turned their heads to glare at the young reporter. Looking at Lara Svityensky (who had come along), she said, "Well, that's actually a great question. I'd like to keep my jersey number from Hogwarts – number 12."

Lara nodded her head and, evidently prepared, ceremonially conjured the number onto one of Katie's training jerseys. The naff journalist was forgotten as the rest turned to document the moment. Quills scratched and flashbulbs went off as the team manager handed it to Katie and shook her hand, officially minting her a Harpy. The attendees and Harpies present cheered Katie on, and Gwenog gave her a tentative pat on the back. "Welcome to the team, er, officially."

"Thanks, Gwen."

Buzzing, Katie sat back down. The crowd calmed and Lara gave the floor to the Kestrels, who were staging a comeback in spite of their veteran lineup. Katie listened, rapt, as their Seeker, Aidan Keily, answered his own barrage of questions.

"Mr. Keily, how have your friendly matches gone so far?"

"Aye, we won most, save that against Puddlemere to be honest, we lost by quite a margin," replied the Irishman stoically. "Puddlemere's been preparin' quite well for the season – my money's on them to take it through to the Finals."

This stirred up quite a ruckus – Puddlemere United was always a big favorite amongst the press. "Mr. Kiely! What attributed to this loss? How do the Kestrels plan to proceed from here?"

The Seeker laughed good-naturedly. "Well, for certain I'll have to get to that Snitch sooner than Williams – he's a sneaky one, and I'm not as quick as I used to be. But overall we old timers may have to work on strategic offense this Fall. Their Keeper is a beast, I'll have you know."

"And is Oliver Wood a big threat to you?"

"I daresay he's a threat to any Chaser in the League, save for his own teammates. The lad's only in his second season but he plays with natural athleticism and maturity beyond his years. He's young, fit, diligent, and smart. That's the kind of young blood we need in this sport. Puddlemere's players at large are massively strong at defense. They should be very proud."

"What can we expect from the Kestrels in your upcoming matches?"

"Tighter execution, to be sure: harder passes, throws; We've got our work cut out for us. In the future we expect to…."

Katie didn't hear any more of the Kestrels' interview, and zoned out completely during the Cannons' – she felt utterly giddy and slightly star struck over Kiely's assessment of her friend. If only she could sneak off and owl Oliver...

"I really don't want to do this."

"I'm sure you don't mean that. Now hold still, sweetums."

"Please," Oliver begged Priscilla the PR Pogrebin. He uncharitably referred to her after a hairy stalker demon in his head – just knowing she was from Puddlemere's public relations team was enough for him to detest her. "Please just get Flanner to do it? Just this once. Please."

"Sean Flanner? Hmmm. He hasn't had a spread in months! Done. He'll be part of the set with you." She straightened his robes with her chubby, over-manicured fingers.

"With me? Don't you mean instead of me?"

"Well aren't you funny? You're the one the fans want to see, love! Not to mention the ladies," she winked, clawing playfully at Oliver's chest. "Rawwrrr." He shuddered and tried not to recoil. "Do it for them! Honestly, love, you should just accept that you've become something of a sex symbol."

"A… what? You lot know I… I don't like this sort of stuff," he mumbled. He knew from day one that these photo ops would be part of the fame package, but never did he think he'd be the subject of so many frivolous articles.

"Oh, nonsense. It can't be Quidditch all day, you know. You need a life! If you had one, then maybe you wouldn't be stuck with us. So suck it up, mister!"

Oliver sighed, knowing that to a degree she was right. But he did have a life… right? He sat down, resigned. It really could have been worse – Priscilla and the set director originally planned on him and Davies being oiled up and shirtless. But thanks to an unsightly chest bruise he'd acquired at a match against the Wanderers, that idea was scrapped in favor of their new blue uniforms. He watched as the PR team fussed over Davies, who, in contrast to him, looked chuffed to be there. Davies murmured something that caused the PR ladies to giggle with delight. "You naughty boy," one of them slapped him lightly across the chest.

A few minutes later, the doors swung open and in walked Priscilla the Pogrebin, pulling a reluctant Sean Flanner along by the arm. "Ah, Wood," he greeted Oliver, "I have reason to believe this was your doing? I'd like to think that PR knows I've outgrown this sort of thing."

"Er… no?"

Flanner raised a sharp brow. "You're a terrible liar. I was just getting ready to spend the evening with my Beatrice. Now look."

"At least we're not alone. Davies is obviously going to be the star of this… thing."

"Yeah, what is this for?"

Oliver shrugged.

"You did good, Katie. Glad that's over!" Bruna dusted imaginary dust off her hands. "Time to hibernate."

"Sounds like a plan," Katie grinned back. "Being diplomatic is stressful."

"They love you already. I could use a seaweed wrap. Care to join?"

"Hate to cramp your style, ladies," Wilda interrupted, "But it seems you didn't get the memo."

"What do you mean?" Katie asked.

"If you mean Clips' notes," Bruna said flippantly. "They kind of ruin my day."

"Amy?" Katie mused. The secretary was rather uppity.

Wilda laughed. "You'll enjoy this – we've got another appointment. I've got the Portkey right here, our entourage went ahead."

"What kind of gig?"

"Secret. That's what you get for not reading Clips' notes."

"All of us?"

"No, just us three, I'm afraid."

"Aw, can't Gwen go in my place?" Bruna pleaded. "She's the Captain!"

"She'd never do this kind of thing. They asked for us specifically, anyway. Besides, Bruna Geyser, there's a chance your favorite sex god might be there…"

"Oh, shut it, Wilda!"

Before Katie could ask, Wilda Portkeyed them away. With a loud WHUMP!, they landed in the middle of what looked like a very, very busy dressing area. Disoriented, Katie inspected her surroundings as a group of assistants scurried up to them.

"Everything alright, Miss Griffiths?" asked one, looking star struck.

"Would you like anything to drink, Miss Geyser?"

"Please, walk this way! Our interviewer will be with you in a moment."

They ushered Katie and her teammates into high stools, and one of them bellowed, "Get Hair and Makeup in here! The Harpies have arrived!"

Katie and Bruna exchanged glances, while Wilda yawned, already bored. "Er, Wilds?" Bruna asked finally, "Care to let us know where exactly we've arrived?"

Wilda quirked her lip to the side. "Witch Weekly. Rush shoot. They want this article in by the next publication, blah, blah. You know."

"Just look at me! I'm a fright!"

"Meh!"

Katie just furrowed her brows, failing to be psyched in the slightest. She was hardly in good shape for another interview. The door to their quarters swung open, and assistants poured in with snacks. Katie gratefully reached for a bag of crisps and slouched in her seat. She closed her eyes, relishing the flavor of comforting junk.

"Katie?" came a very familiar voice. Her eyes snapped open, and standing at the door was none other than Alicia Spinnet, nervously clutching a quill and some parchment. Katie's jaw dropped.

"Alicia," she whispered. A squeal ripped out of her throat as she leapt out of her chair to embrace her friend. The chair fell over, startling Bruna and Wilda, who were about to get their hair done. "I can't believe it!"

"They didn't tell me who I was interviewing… Merlin, you're in the HARPIES! Why didn't you write?" Alicia smiled, betraying nothing. Katie looked back at her, feeling even more puzzled.

"Alicia… I would have, I swear. But… I didn't know where to find you. No one did."

Her former teammate's face fell a little, and she pursed her lips. "Well, I'm here now. And you're here! So… maybe we can begin?"

Katie frowned, but proceeded to introduce Alicia to her new teammates. The interview went by much easier than the press conference did, in spite of the hairdressers and makeup artists shooting charms around them. Katie was happy to see that Bruna and Wilda had taken a real shine to Alicia. She had that effect on people – it was always easy to get along with her. Katie shouldn't have been surprised to discover she was a writer, though she didn't think that's what Alicia had exactly wanted.

"Leesh, if you don't mind my asking, what made you want to write for Witch Weekly?" Kati asked during a pause. Alicia hesitated, and then replied slowly, "I, uh… I actually just got back. They offered internships, so I went for it. It's just for a couple of months, maybe less."

"Got back from where?"

Alicia cleared her throat. "I'm the interviewer here, Katie," she tittered nervously. "This is hardly the time to discuss personal matters."

Bruna looked between them, concerned. "…Right," Katie replied finally. "You're right. Carry on."

"So, um, Katie," Alicia continued more uncomfortably, "Our readers will want to know more about you. What's your favorite color?"

"Oh come on, you know all that!"

"Just…!"

"Okay, blue! It's… it's blue." Katie was slightly shaken by her best friend's behavior.

"Thank you. And what's your favorite candy?" Alicia suddenly asked, very rushed.

"Er. Honeydukes chocolate coins. 'Leesh I –"

"Favorite song?"

"It's a Muggle song, I don't think –"

"Favorite Quidditch move?"

"You know the one we used to do, we'd jump off our brooms and –"

"Favorite Quidditch memory?"

Katie was growing awfully confused, but she answered anyway. "Winning the House Cup. Ol's last year... My fourth. Nothing beats winning with your best friends. You know," she said more gently, "We really should catch up. We could! I mean, I was just with Ol, Ange, and –"

"Don't say it," Alicia warned, holding up a hand. "Wait, you know what? This is… this is good. We're done for now, I'll just work with this questionnaire they gave. I'll answer it for you." She stood, rolling her scroll up.

"Alicia, wait."

Alicia paused at the door, turning back to look at Katie and the dumbstruck Harpies. "I'm sorry, everyone. It was very nice meeting you all. Just… I'll write. The article, I mean. See you around, Katie." And then she left.

Katie's mouth hung open. "What?"

"You have a real knack for getting interrupted," mused Wilda. "So… was she always like that?" She twirled a finger beside her head.

"I thought she was lovely," said Bruna. "But she seems very troubled."

"She isn't mad," Katie said worriedly. "I don't know the whole story, but she's going through a lot… alright, hang on." Getting up from her seat, she bolted out the door, her rollers bobbing on her head. "Alicia! Wait!" She weaved past assistants and people she identified vaguely as other players, searching for her friend. "Alicia! Alicia – OOF!"

Katie hit a hard wall of what turned out to be muscle, and looked up to see none other than – "Cap-… Captain? What are you doing here?" He looked silly with a too-small hairdresser's cape around his broad shoulders, and his normally neat hair was coiffed in a ridiculously metrosexual fashion. Had she not been in a hurry, Katie might have stopped to make fun of it.

"Kates?" He asked, running a hand self-consciously through his hair. "I could ask you the same. Whoa, careful." He grabbed hold of her arms to steady her, noting her demeanor. More urgently he asked, "Are you quite alright?"

"Yeah, yeah, it's just…" Katie looked past him, "Alicia was here."

"What? How?"

"She interviewed us… and then she ran. Oliver, I'll tell you everything later. I have no idea what just happened but I've got to find her. Have you seen her?"

"I haven't," he responded. "But I'll help you."

"My, my," Wilda had caught up with them. "Where do you think you're going, Rookie?" She quirked a brow at Oliver. "Nice hair, Wood."

Oliver held a hand up to his head and grumbled. "I could say the same for you, Griffiths. Geyser," he acknowledged. The two Harpies, like Katie, still had huge rollers in their hair.

Wilda smirked. "So, who are you with?"

"Our rookie, Davies. And Flanner." Oliver cast a glance at Bruna, who looked away.

Katie observed them. "You guys already know each other?"

"Oh yeah," Wilda said. "Glinda was mad for this lunk – or should I say hunk? We nearly lost a game once because she was ogling him instead of Snitch-hunting." Oliver's ears tinged pink. Wilda continued, "Bruna, on the other hand, was busy ogling –"

"That's enough," Bruna interrupted quickly. "Did you find your friend?"

Oliver and Katie exchanged glances. "No. We were about to go…"

"THERE you are!" cried a flamboyant Italian man who appeared to be the photographer. "Oliver Wood, you are flirt! Come on-a, it's your turn. Ladies, please! Join us!"

It seemed as if Katie's plan to find Alicia was thwarted – she would have been long gone. The group walked after the photographer to a white backdrop surrounded by lights and giggling ladies.

"My name is Mario, by the way. I am good friend of Raul Guido's." Mario went on to pull off Oliver's bib, and shoved him between an amused Sean Flanner and a more disgruntled Roger Davies.

Katie's eyes went wide. "It's Sean Flanner!" she nearly squealed, squeezing her teammates' arms. Bruna turned away, and Wilda smirked, "Yeah it is."

"I used to collect Puddlemere stickers with Oliver! He was my Chaser idol."

"Funny," Bruna griped, "He's a little… old for you – I mean, us."

"Why, Bru? Jealous?" Wilda cackled.

"Not like that," Katie huffed. "Besides, he's the only one I'd get star struck over. I played with the other two back at Hogwarts."

"Okay, gentlemen." Mario clapped his hands. "Now cross-a your arms." They did as he said, and Davies made a show of pumping up his biceps. Mario snapped the photos, giving more instructions with frenzied hand gestures. "Now smolder, yes-a? A little more, Mr. Wood! Sexy look, please, not-a constipated. Sexy! That's it!" Snap, snap, snap. "Now growl like a tigre. YES, Mr. Flanner, OH, YES! YES! Make love to the camera! Tigre! Tigre!" Snap, snap, snap.

"He sounds orgasmic over Flanner," Wilda remarked. Bruna rolled her eyes.

Katie couldn't hold in her laughter. While Davies appeared to be enjoying every moment (he even looked their way and winked), Oliver looked more uncomfortable than she'd ever seen him. He'd even broken a sweat, which assistants quickly (and aggressively) ran to wipe off. But before the shoot was over, the girls were pulled back by the frazzled hair and makeup team, who finished up their hair in voluminous waves before delivering them back to Mario. The Puddlemere boys were nowhere in sight, and Katie was only slightly disappointed.

"Bellissima," Mario fawned over them, and arranged them not unlike the Puddlemere boys before. He was much quicker about it, and Katie could detect that females were not his favorite subjects. They were done in merely five minutes, to her relief.

"Well, that's over with," she sighed. "Let's go home."

"Wait, wait, wait." The photographer scuttled over to her. "You stay right-a here, bella. I have another assign-a-ment for same article – the Young Blood: Hogwarts' Rising-a Stars." He waved a hand theatrically above them.

Katie's teammates appeared unsurprised. Wilda probably already knew about the appointment. Smugly waving goodbye, they touched their Portkey and vanished.

Katie frowned. "You want me in the spread?"

"Yes-a."

"Not to be rude, sir, but you've never even seen me play."

"No, but I see your shots. Raul – he showed me!" He tapped a finger on her nose. "Now come along, we don't want to keep the boys-a waiting!"

She walked back to the set sourly, but her expression lightened somewhat upon discovering Oliver hadn't left after all. He looked equally displeased to be there, and almost comical standing next to a very self-approving Roger Davies.

"Hey, Ollie." She greeted.

For the first time since she'd seen him, his face looked more comfortable. He offered a warm smile in return. "You look great, Kates."

"Thanks," she replied shyly. "You too."

"You sound really tired, though. Long day? I didn't get to ask."

"You could say that. Hey, Davies."

"My, my. Katie Bell. I see you're joining us in the big leagues now, huh? Can you handle it?"

"And I see your head hasn't deflated one bit."

"Oh, but you've missed me, haven't you? No? Not even a little bit?" Roger pouted.

Katie rolled her eyes. "I've only missed seeing the look on your face after your ass has been kicked!"

"My ass? I think you're flirting with me, Katie Bell!"

Oliver's face went a mild shade of puce. Katie rolled her eyes. "Gross, Davies."

"Places!" Mario snapped his fingers. The photographer could not have returned at a better time. "Here's how this is going to happen. Mr. Davies shall have-a his own-a panel in the magazine. Understand? He is very handsome over there. And then-a you two," he gesticulated excitedly, "Shall be in photo together! Two panels. Understand? Are you getting along?"

The three nodded their heads. Mario made quick work of Roger Davies, who, to Oliver's great dissatisfaction, blew Katie a kiss and winked as he Apparated out of the studio.

"Uh," Katie said, casting a tentative glance in Oliver's direction. "I guess that leaves us." She was suddenly acutely aware of the fact, and blushed to discover that the entire staff was watching. Self-consciousness kicked in.

"Wonderful! Now," Mario directed, "Smile-a for the camera!"

The two awkwardly quirked their lips to the side. "No, no, no! This will not do. Are you not-a friends?!" cried the photographer.

Taken aback, the two replied, "Yeah?"

"We're friends, best friends," Oliver spluttered. Katie jerked her head awkwardly.

"You don't act like it! Move-a closer to one another! Good! Now, Mr. Wood, kindly sling your arm around her." Oliver took a breath and made to grip Katie's waist. He changed his mind and moved it up to her shoulder.

Katie and Oliver looked at each other, and immediately burst out into chuckles. "What?" Snap! Snap!

"Laughter works too," said Mario, somewhat relieved. "Give me more!"

Immediately more comfortable, Katie lightly bumped her head against Oliver. "Oy!" he cried, clutching his chest. "Nasty bruise," he winced.

"Oh, don't be such a baby. What happened to being merciless?" Katie near cackled, poking his chest a little harder.

Soon, the two forgot about the over-enthusiastic photographer and carried on cracking jokes at the expense of the other. Assistants handed them Quaffles, and they chatted animatedly while made a show of passing the balls to one another in increasingly complex ways. It was only when Mario delightedly walked out the building that they realized the shoot had wrapped long before they were done playing.

"This is a first," admitted Oliver as they walked to the Portkey area. "I don't really like –"

"You don't like this stuff, I know, Captain. I don't like it much, either."

"But what about…?"

"Oh, that," Katie blushed. "That was purely circumstantial. Raul Guido just kind of needed to keep me occupied, or something. I try not to think about it."

"Well… this was actually fun." Oliver ran a hand through his hair, messing it up.

"Yeah," Katie smiled. "I didn't think I'd see you here. This was nice."

"Maybe we should have our picture taken together more often," Oliver joked. Then just as quickly, he stammered, "I mean…"

"We should totally hang out," Katie replied a little too quickly. She nodded her head feverishly. "I mean… I'll owl Alicia, try to find her – she's in town, I know that much."

"Is… is that so?" Oliver cringed. He'd just made it awkward again. "Well… please let me know."

"Yeah."

"Yeah. And then," Oliver added, his voice unusually high, "Maybe we can… practice shooting, or…"

Katie nodded. "Sounds good."

Silence.

"I'd better get going," Katie released a breath she didn't know she was holding and stuck her thumb out behind her.

"Oh, don't let me keep you," Oliver said. "Er, no pun intended."

"That's awful, Captain. I don't really know how I'm gonna get back, to be honest," Katie admitted, "The girls took the Portkey, and I have no clue where we actually are. I'm rubbish at long-distance Apparition."

"Is that so?" he said thoughtfully. "Wait right here." He was gone for but a minute, and returned with his belongings. Shuffling through his bag's secret pockets, he procured a familiar-looking pouch. More playfully he announced, "I believe this goes straight to Holyhead."

"You keep my Portkey with you?"

Oliver dodged the question. "Correction – it's my Portkey now. You gave it to me. I'm only lending it to you."

Katie grinned. "What good is owning a Portkey when you won't even use it?"

"You never know," the Keeper shrugged. "I've thought about it."

"Is that so? I'll make sure to give it right back."

"You better."

They exchanged grins.

"Thanks, Captain," Katie said finally. "I'll owl you. And Alicia." She hugged him tight, subtly taking a sniff of him. He smelled a little like hairspray, but mostly still like him – clean, manly, fresh. With a smile, she touched the Portkey and vanished.

A few seconds later, Katie swirled into her living room. She plopped down on her couch, giddily sniffing her jumper. It smelled like him. She then spotted steaming food on her table – a much-deserved dinner courtesy of the Harpies' elusive house elves. But before she could touch it, a flutter of wings caught her attention. Gwenog was already out hunting, but a letter lay on her windowsill. She took it up and opened it.

Dear Katie,

It was so nice seeing you earlier. I'm sorry for the way I acted. I wasn't ready to talk, and I freaked out a little. But if you're free sometime next week, let's lunch. Please, just you and me. Well, I saw Oliver at WW, and if I know you, you'd have told him. So I suppose he can come too. Owl me, I'm at my mum's.

Just don't tell Angelina and George. I'm not ready to see them yet.

I've missed you,

Alicia

A/N: Alicia's back :O I wonder if anyone saw that coming (because I sort of imagined her return to go down somewhat differently). In any case it'll work!

As a late Christmas gift to me (whether or not I deserve it – I think I'm on a bunch of people's naughty lists!), please please please leave me a review :) As always, Thank you for reading!

x Izzo