A/N: Hi! I'm alive, but barely! Work's been killing me! I actually had some trouble writing this... I hope you enjoy it anyway! :) Also I'm sorry I haven't been able to reply to a lot of reviews. I got your emails, but couldn't seem to respond :( This is for everyone who reviewed the last chapter! I love you all!

Chapter 13 - The Press and the Present

"Congratulations, Rookie. Your first piece of fan mail!" Wilda tossed Katie a brown, nondescript package. She sounded bored, but the grin pulling at the sides of her mouth gave her excitement away.

"No!" Katie squealed in disbelief, clutching the parcel to her chest. Earlier that morning, Katie arrived home after a heavy training session to find a horde of house elves bustling into her bungalow bearing bags of owl post. It turned out to be a little Harpies custom: every Monday, the girls took turns segregating the post and responding to them. That day was apparently Katie's turn, so she found herself sitting with Bruna and Wilda around a sizeable pile of letters and parcels.

"Well? Are you going to open it?" asked Bruna.

Katie grinned. "Can I?"

"No," Wilda deadpanned.

"Eee!" Katie tore the paper off what turned out to be a nondescript, leather-bound notebook. She opened it, only to find it completely empty, save for a scribble on the first page.

"What does it say?"

"Uh," Katie frowned. She couldn't understand the message. "Xs & Os."

"Hugs and kisses. Huh." Wilda quirked a brow.

"It's unsigned, though." She was a little disappointed.

"Oh, it's alright, Katie," Bruna smiled, "Believe me, there'll be lots more where that came from. You should see the bags we get when the season actually starts. I can imagine that the other teams get more, though. Wilds, this one's for you."

"Mmm," Wilda acknowledged, catching the letter and dropping it onto her own growing pile. She continued sorting and muttering robotically: "Gwen, Gwen, Vanns, mine, Gwen, Annie, Glinda, Annie... Oh, Bru, yours."

"Why would the other teams get more post?" Katie asked. She put the notebook aside, determined to inspect it later on.

"Well... infatuated fangirls are the number one source of mail. That sort wouldn't be writing to an all-witch team, now would they?" Wilda winked.

"See, Katie," Bruna patiently explained, "We get a lot of gifts and fan mail. Owls sent from strangers are forwarded to the Admin - well, the house elves. The Howlers and dangerous objects are disposed of by the elves - usually they're sent by fangirls of male players that want us to stay away from 'their' men... or maybe hormonal boys that send us love potions and things."

Wilda snorted. "They try."

"It's therapeutic, though," said Bruna. "I love reading letters after a hard day. The ones from children especially remind me of why I play Quidditch. Except when they're from randy boys asking for nude photos."

"Those are always nice." Wilda smirked.

"Wait," Katie interrupted. "Sorry. Personal mail doesn't get sorted, though."

"If the sender knows you personally, then the owl can deliver it straight to you. Why?"

Katie shook her head. "It's just... I was waiting for a letter." It had been less than a week since she'd seen Alicia at Witch Weekly, and replied to her ominous letter. The newest issue was due on stands that same day, but Katie was more anxious to receive a reply from her friend. So far, nothing. Had Alicia changed her mind?

Well, it turned out she hadn't, because later that same afternoon a personal owl did arrive. She offered it a treat and relieved it of its parcel, which contained three things: the newest issue of Witch Weekly, a little pouch, and a letter. She snatched the note quickly. Alicia!

Dear Katie,

I'm sorry I took a few days to write. I hope you haven't gotten impatient with me. If you're free tonight, I've got you a Portkey to this little restaurant I just discovered called Brek-O-Day. They serve international breakfast food all day, which I know you love.

I've also left you a copy of Witch Weekly's newest issue. Don't kill me, but I really like your feature with Ollie (and Davies). Maybe we can talk about it later, along with the other stuff. I've sent him a Portkey, too, in case you were wondering. See you at six?

Alicia x

Katie penned an affirmative reply, anxious to talk to her friend. As Alicia requested, Katie had not told Angelina and George. She hadn't even told Oliver about it. She sent the letter off with Alicia's owl, and resisted the urge to owl Oliver. He'd be there, maybe. She then sat back down to inspect the magazine.

Witch Weekly, the title flashed. The headlines framed the moving snapshot of the Ballycastle Bats. Pro Quidditch, O WoW! Your Definitive Guide to the League's Hotties! and, The Girlfriends of Quidditch! Could YOU Be Next? - How to Bag That Quidditch Player!

Also: Beauty Spell Haul! Banish Those Bunions For Good!

"Merlin." Katie flipped the busy pages with some trepidation. It appeared that a handful of teams were included. She landed on Puddlemere's spread, and ghosted her fingers across the photograph. Thrust in the middle, an uncomfortable-looking Oliver was being jostled by Roger Davies and Sean Flanner. They flexed their biceps, flashing cheesy grins at the camera. Oliver just crossed his arms, grimacing. If Katie hadn't known him, she might have thought he was just hamming it up along with the others. The accompanying write-up was exceedingly generous, ridiculous, and hardly related to Quidditch:

Best In Show: Puddlemere United

Who comes to mind when you say Handsome Quidditch Men? Puddlemere, of course! Boasting the best in books and looks, these lads have got as much game as they've got face. Don't believe us? Take a gander at Sean Flanner, 32. The two-time winner of Witch Weekly's Most Charming Smile Award has still got what it takes to make us witches hot, hot, hot! Is it just us, or does Puddlemere's new blue uniform make his eyes look even bluer? Sigh! How is he still single!

Don't forget about Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome. Is there anyone more mysterious than Oliver Wood? What secrets does he Keep (classic pun) behind those perfect lips? He's not one to kiss and tell (not since he'd broken up with Amber Guest, anyway - and she did the telling). Nor is his smoldering gaze revealing - but what he lacks in public smiles tells us he's got a lot more to give in private!

Katie snorted. "Ha! That's no smolder! He's scowling, at best."

Hot on our radars is rookie Chaser, Roger Davies. Watch out, witches, this one looks like a bona fide Player! He's got the smile and appeal of a matinee idol, and he's already enchanted us with his winning charm. What do you think? For more exclusive photos, turn to page 37!

Cringing, Katie hazarded a guess that page 37 would contain their ridiculous spread. She skimmed through Davies' fun facts panel (which unfortunately listed his unabashed fondness for "breasts the size of cauldrons") and skipped a couple of write-ups until she found the Harpies' page. The photo featured Bruna smiling prettily next to Wilda, who flipped her hair and flashed an unreadable grin at the camera. Katie raised her brow at the image of herself, which raised an equally skeptical brow back at her. It was a decent photo, but she knew it was nothing Miss Raul would be happy about. The article was unsigned. Curious.

The Holyhead Harpies: The Girls We'd Love to Hate

Last week, we were reintroduced to some of the witches that make us proud to be women. The Holyhead Harpies are back with a vengeance, and with some surprises up their sleeve. Upon the untimely passing of their star Chaser, Joan Gafton, they set off to find the perfect successor. Introducing Katie Bell, the youngest in the nest. We at Witch Weekly think she's got what it takes to be the Next Big Thing, if she isn't it already.

So how does a team comprised solely of women strike a balance? Wilda Griffiths tells us...

It was a good read. Alicia had certainly done their team justice. Although Katie read Alicia's praise and predictions for her with a little awkwardness, she was proud of Alicia for writing such a substantial article. "This certainly beats the Puddlemere write-up," Katie thought.

She flipped to page 37 and saw a photo set called Young Blood: Hogwarts' Rising Stars. The image of Roger Davies spun a Quaffle atop his finger. He smirked at something off camera, and winked. Katie moved her gaze to the starkly different photo that she and Oliver greatly surprised her - Oliver looked utterly candid as he bounced a Quaffle off his head. He was clearly showing off - a big change from his usual magazine demeanor. He had a huge grin on his face, and Katie noticed for the first time that he'd reached out to grasp her forearm. She appeared to be clutching his forearm right back. Did that really happen? Photo-Katie obviously didn't notice. She pulled her hand away to catch the Quaffle, batting it back towards him with a playful grin. The real Katie felt the heat rush to her cheeks. She turned back to read the write-up.

Exclusive! Young Blood: Hogwarts' Rising Stars

There must be something in the water down in Scotland, because everyone's favorite Wizarding school has produced not one, not two, but three of the most promising young players in recent years to join the Quidditch League's ranks. The current trend in pro Quidditch is outsourcing talent, so we're glad to see some some fresh British blood in the mix.

But do Houses come into play here? Maybe not, but our exclusive set of photos are telling. In the next few pages, get familiar with Puddlemere's new Chaser, former Ravenclaw Roger Davies, and see their Gryffindor Keeper, Oliver Wood, in a whole new light. The cause of his distraction? We've pegged his former Gryffindor teammate, the gorgeous Katie Bell of the Holyhead Harpies. (Photographs by Mario Giacomo.)

The text alarmed her for reasons she couldn't comprehend. She turned the page and found even more photos. Roger's photo depicted him closing his eyes and extending his arms dominantly to the side, reveling in the flash of the camera.

The photo next to it, again, was starkly different. She and Oliver were just... laughing. She clutched his arm with one hand as she threw her head back blithely, her curly ponytail shaking as she wiped a tear with her other hand. Oliver looked equally carefree. His eyes crinkled a little, he smiled with his teeth, and his arm snaked around her waist to support her in an endless loop. The Quaffle was nowhere in sight - Katie remembered having accidentally bounced it off the head of a Puddlemere PR lady in the background. Candid as it was... she had to admit it wasn't a bad photo. Not even close...

A smile threatened to tug at her lips, but Katie shut the magazine and shoved it between her couch's cushions. It would not do to assume anything... but her hands prickled with giddiness all the same.

Six o'clock came along and Katie Portkeyed away. The air smelled of bacon and pancakes, which was unusual given the hour. Her stomach grumbled. Alicia knew her so well.

"Soooo? Did you see the spread?" Alicia was in very good spirits that evening.

"Y...es," Katie admitted grudgingly as she struggled not to grin. "Alicia, I can't -"

"You two. Are. So. Cute."

"Oh, please. It's been years."

"But you still like him." It wasn't a question. Katie gaped like a goldfish. Couldn't people just drop it?

"Nothing can happen, see -"

"Spare me," Alicia rolled her eyes. "You're always that, but I still fail to see any reason why not."

"Because!" Katie was indignant, and flustered. "I'm... me, and Oliver's... he's... Mr. Famous Nice Guy Quidditch Nazi and you can't date your teammate and he's my best friend and... Oliver's... Oliver's..."

"Oliver's what?" an amused voice came from behind them.

The girls turned their heads to see none other than the subject of their discussion.

"Oliver's... here?" Katie weakly replied as he gave Alicia a small hug in greeting.

"So it would seem," he grinned, sitting down. "Alicia, we've missed you."

"Hey, Ollie," she smiled. "It's good to be back."

"What were we talking about?" Oliver took the menu Katie thrust at him, a little puzzled.

"Noth-"

"Your spread!" Alicia cheerfully tossed a copy of Witch Weekly at him, earning a panicked stare from Katie.

"What's this?"

"Nothing. You can look later," Katie grabbed it back, feeling inexplicably embarrassed. "Let's order."

Oliver looked warily at the two girls. "Al...right."

The girls' pancakes had arrived, as had Oliver's hefty sausage meal, by the time they'd finished filling Alicia in on all Quidditch-related stories. She was in a very good mood, so much so that when Oliver asked, "So, what have you been up to, Spinnet?" she answered him straight.

"Well... getting over George, for one," she laughed, though it didn't sound as light as it did earlier. "Whew. I just thought I'd get that out."

The table went silent. Alicia looked to Katie, who nodded supportively. "Well? Don't stop eating now." Her friends readily obeyed.

Katie swallowed her food and asked, "Vacation, then?"

"Sort of, but no," Alicia shook her head. "I've actually been doing some freelance work... research and writing, you know?"

"On what?"

"Rare spells the Ministry can use or develop into new ones. I was like a junior Curse-Breaker that didn't go in the field." Alicia said in a hushed voice. "It's kind of a secret. A few weeks after the Battle, I... Well, my dad had some connections and I jumped at the chance. The Ministry has its own department but they send people abroad... I just needed to get away from... you know." She glanced at Oliver apologetically, quieting down again.

Katie could sense Alicia's discomfort, as, surprisingly, could Oliver. He got up, wiping his mouth. "Excuse me, girls." Squeezing Alicia's shoulder reassuringly, he walked off to the breakfast bar, which was serving up Bloody Marys and alcohol-spiked milkshakes.

Alicia slouched in her seat. "It's been so lonely, Katie," she sniffled. "I really missed you guys."

"We missed you too. All of us," Katie assured her. "But what couldn't you tell Oliver?"

"Yeah, well. It's nothing, really. I actually enjoyed a little, you know. I went to Egypt... wrote a paper there on some runes and hieroglyphics on these ancient Flight Charms, and also there was this Shrinking Curse... But then I ran into Bill Weasley so that was a little strange..." Alicia was babbling. Katie didn't know where the story ended or began, so she dropped her utensils and held Alicia's shoulders.

"Leesh. Leesh. Slow down."

"Sorry."

"It's alright," Katie said. She looked up to find Oliver eyeing them concernedly, and offered him a small smile. He looked funny standing there with his strawberry milkshake, but he made no move to return.

Alicia followed her gaze wistfully, and said, "He's obviously still nuts about you, Katie. I miss that. I miss... I miss George. And Ange. I wonder if... you know, if h- they miss me."

Katie wanted to protest, but Alicia had finally broached the subject of George and Ange. She couldn't argue now. "Is that why you left, then?"

"I had to regroup, I guess. I don't remember ever feeling so... betrayed? I never thought that he'd... they'd..." Alicia faltered. "Well, I can't be angry. I was at first, but I can't be. No one can help how they feel."

"But they can help how they act," Katie blurted. She didn't like the feeling of having to choose a side, but having Alicia bordering on tears was really affecting her.

"Oh, Katie," Alicia picked at her food. "The only real choice was to act. Fred died, okay? We lost a friend. Angelina lost a boyfriend; George, a brother. I'm actually glad you weren't around to see it, but we were all just so unhappy. And if I hadn't... done anything, then we'd all still be unhappy. I don't want that for any of us."

Katie wrung her napkin, frustrated. "You deserve happiness, too."

"Everyone does, but they needed it more. They needed each other, you know? I could tell. After the Battle, Ange and I stayed with the Weasleys awhile, to mourn. Late at night I'd feel her leave our room, then I'd see her and George meet in the garden and just... talk. They'd whisper to one another for hours. I'd catch them sharing looks and mugs of tea, then they'd look all guilty and stop talking to each other for days." Alicia wiped a tear away. "It was awful. But now that I'm out of the way, they have a shot at healing with each other. I just need to find my own happiness."

"You were never in the way," Katie argued.

"I was. They didn't want me to know the stuff they talked about, and I don't think they wanted anything to happen between them anyway. But I wrote them a letter and left without saying goodbye. George and I haven't actually spoken about breaking up, but... he knows it's over. He hasn't written. Nor has Ange."

"They don't know where to find you! They don't even know you're back in town. Did you even want them to write?"

Alicia shook her head. "When I'm ready. Don't worry about me, Kates, I'll be okay. Research has been good for me. I've been finding my way back into Quidditch, slowly but surely." She turned her head and gestured for Oliver to come back. He did, and sat back down warily.

"Good talk?" he asked, sipping from his milkshake. Katie resisted the urge to ask for some.

"Yeah," Alicia replied as brightly as she could muster. "I'm getting back into Quidditch!"

Oliver's face brightened. "Really!"

"Hopefully! Slowly but surely. Not playing, of course. I'm just biding my time writing at Witch Weekly before I move to something else, maybe... spell research for a broom company? Firebolt? Cleansweep? I've been studying some magic behind stuff like that. It's actually pretty fun!"

"That's great!" Oliver nodded enthusiastically, waving his milkshake.

"Careful, Ol!" cried Katie, but her warning fell on deaf ears.

"When you do, could you send me a few prototypes - under contract I'm supposed to behave myself but I'd love it if I could try some out before -"

"Ah, there's our Quidditch Nazi," Alicia laughed.

Oliver stopped mid-breath. "Sorry."

"I've really missed you guys," Alicia said again, good humor restored.

Later, Alicia made her leave, mentioning that she had an early call time the next day. With a knowing look at her friends, she departed.

"So, er," Katie fiddled with her sleeve knowing Alicia would kill them if she found out all they talked about after she left was her. "How was your week?"

"Good," Oliver replied, his face a little scrunched. Their encounters seemed to begin this way these days - just a little awkward, as they struggled to get their footing. "We beat Pride of Portree today."

Katie snorted. "As if that was difficult for you."

"They've gotten better, I'll have you know... And you?"

"Eh, not much. Played the Catapults 'til sunset the other day - we called it a draw. Then this morning I sorted fan mail with Wilds and Bruna."

"Did you, now?" Oliver's interest was piqued.

"Mhmm." Katie nodded. "I got my first piece of fan mail!"

"Did you, now?" He repeated, more amused.

"Yeah, though I bet it's nothing compared to what you must get. And it was pretty odd as far as fan mail goes. It was just a notebook with 'Xs and Os' written on the first page. Hugs and Kisses, ha ha!" she cracked.

"That's not what it meant!" blurted Oliver, all traces of amusement suddenly gone from his face.

Katie blinked. "Eh?"

"I mean... er, that is to say..."

"Captain," she understood his fidgeting, "Did you send me that journal?" Her heart beat a little faster.

"No! I mean, yes. I did. But through the regular post. It was..." he sighed, "It was supposed to be a surprise. Sort of my late housewarming gift."

Katie couldn't prevent the nervous giggle that escaped her lips.

"Don't laugh, it's a playbook," he hurriedly informed her. "You write in it, see, to keep track of your flight patterns and players... X... O... yeah."

"Oh." Well, that was embarrassing. "Right. Well, thanks, Ol!" Katie tried to say lightly. But a familiar sinking feeling was quickly taking over. Served her right for assuming.

Oliver looked equally fretful. "I hope you use it," he added quickly. "It's charmed so that we can share notes."

"What do you mean?"

"I have one just like it. I was thinking we could exchange notes on games and stuff. Players, plays... It'll be our secret."

Just like that, Katie felt loads better. "Thanks, Ol!" she repeated more enthusiastically. "So where'd you get them?"

"Flourish and Blotts," he replied, a sheepish grin creeping its way onto his face. "I figured your owl wouldn't enjoy having to fly back and forth with my notes, so I got journals. I charmed them myself."

"But you're terrible at Charms!" Katie laughed. "Are you sure they work?"

"It took me a few tries, but I'm pretty sure they do. I wrote the dedication on my notebook and it showed up on yours. I meant to make it longer, but I was running late for practice. Sorry about that."

Katie smiled down at her plate. It was no wonder, then, that she hadn't recognized his handwriting. (Though "Xs & Os" was little text to work on.) "I don't believe you."

"Excuse me?"

"It's not going to work!"

"Is that a challenge, Bell?"

"Just my own prediction, Captain. Like I said, Charms isn't really your thing."

"I could say the same about you and Divination."

"I don't have to be good at Divination to know you're rotten at Charms."

"I'm plenty good at Charms."

"Oh, yeah? Then why haven't you charmed anyone else off their feet?"

"Because..." he stopped himself. Because the one I want is oblivious to my feelings and I'm too much of a pygmy puff to tell her. "Quidditch. No time for all that, Bell."

"Right," Katie half-smiled. Internally she was smacking Bludgers at her face. Why. Why. Why.

"Season," he weakly added.

"I know, I know."

No, you don't! He wanted to scream.

"So... do you wanna test them out?" Katie asked.

"Is that an invitation? Or are you just looking to get rid of me?"

"Maybe."

"Maybe what? You still have my Portkey, so I'm guessing it's the latter."

"It's my Portkey, Captain."

"Yes, but it's my key to spying on Harpy activity. Since you don't write about it, or anything."

"Hence the playbook?"

"Hey," said Oliver. "I fully expect you to use it for Quidditch business. No messing around. Full reports, understand me? Particularly on the Bats. I have a score to settle with them."

"Aye, aye, Captain," Katie rolled her eyes.

They parted ways soon after, exchanging awkward hugs and sharing their morning commitments.

Oliver returned to his flat, heart a little heavier.

That conversation was more discouraging than most, he thought. He absentmindedly tossed something onto the nearest table - What?

"Huh." It was the magazine Alicia had brought with her, he realized. He hadn't even noticed he'd brought it home with him. He didn't normally care for these things, but since Alicia worked for Witch Weekly now...

It was bookmarked, he observed. He fingered the tab and opened the rag to the corresponding page. "Young Blood...?" he frowned. Oh.

Oliver didn't know how long he stood there, looking at the photos. He'd have to thank Alicia for this later on, though he was positive she'd meant to tease him about it. He padded to the bedroom, carefully placing the magazine down on his side table. He caught a glimpse of his Charmed journal - the one identical to Katie's, picked it up and opened it.

His dedication had been tampered with! The "X" had been written over and apostrophes added.

It now read, "K's and O's Super Secret Playbook. Thank you, Captain :)".

Maybe tonight wasn't so bad after all, he smiled, reaching for a quill.

You're welcome, Kates, he wrote. Good night.

A/N: Hee :") Things get more Quidditchy in the near future! Leave me a review if you liked this and/or wanna see anything in particular!