Chapter Twenty-Six: Katie's Worst Memory?
"You've got another owl, Katie," Bill called from the living room, where he was adjusting his newest completed sculpture, a triple breasted monstrosity of Anuket, the Egyptian goddess of the Nile.
"From who?" Katie asked as she lazily flipped through a magazine. Summers off of school were always so odd. It took ages to adjust to no more magic, or castles, or being called lesser due to her parents being Muggles. But right when she got used to hearing about Jimmy Jenkins and how he'd won a debate competition at school, or she'd settle back into going to swim parks with Ruby and Sandra and getting milkshakes with Julia, it would be time to go to a magical alley with her parents. Bill would be excited beyond belief as they bought her new jars of toadstools, new bristles for her broom, a book on plants that could kill you but not before turning you into a pink poodle, a look in Isla's eye that she was sure Katie would crack and tell her that it was all a prank this time.
"I don't read your mail, sweetie," Bill said, "well, after that one time where I learned my lesson, in any case."
Katie fought a laugh. Poor Bill. The one time she'd gotten a howler was the one time he'd tried to see who sent her a letter. She'd never figured out who it was from. The piercing shrieks about how she was a terrible Quidditch player with ridiculous legs who glommed onto her friends' popularity and stole other people's boyfriends could've been anyone. Especially since almost none of it was true. Except the parts where she glommed into her friend's popularity and had ridiculous legs. But the parts about stealing other people's boyfriends were particularly ridiculous.
"Where's mum, at work?" Katie yawned as she made her way from the couch to her father, reaching out to the owl before stopping dead. "You look familiar," she said, eyes narrowing.
"You talking to an owl now, sweetie?" Bill said, pushing his glasses up, "what do you think? A roast for dinner, or a steak and kidney pie?"
"A roast, for sure," Katie said, still staring at the owl with narrowed eyes before giving in and snatching the letter. "Oh for the love of–"
"Is it from those funny friends of yours?" Bill asked, bustling around the kitchen, "and your mum got called in for an emergency. You know how it is."
"I do," Katie said through grit teeth as she read the unexpected and unwelcome letter.
Bell, I know you told me not to talk to you ever again, but an owl is hardly talking, is it? You know Slytherins look for loopholes. I suppose I can see how you'd think I was being insensitive about Diggory. It wasn't on purpose, I thought you could handle jokes. Anyway, just in case your sense of humor is still as dead as he is, I sent something to make up for it. See you next year, G. M.
Katie opened the package the owl had sent, her teeth so clenched she was about to crack a tooth. The nerve of that little bastard! Was this supposed to be an apology? She ripped the package open with special vigor. A book fell out.
"What, am I Hermione now?" Katie said out loud.
"What's that, hun?" Her father said, head buried in a cabinet.
"Nothing," Katie said hastily. She'd already subjected her parents to so many recitals on the evils of Slytherins this summer in particular that her parent's eyes both glazed over now about ten seconds in. She couldn't blame them.
At least when she turned it over and spotted the golden hoops stamped on the cover it looked like a Quidditch book, the only type of book she read for fun. She flipped it right side up to see the title.
"The Fundamentals of Quidditch?" Katie said, her voice high and shrill, "that arsehole!"
"A Slytherin?" Bill asked, as he pulled out a roasting pan. The glazed look was already coming to his eyes.
"Yes," Katie said shortly.
It was a book you read when you were about seven, if you were in the magical world and interested in Quidditch. Katie had been insulted enough that first year on the team when Oliver had handed her a copy and told her to read it, until he'd explained that every serious Quidditch player must read it, and he'd lend her his own copy since she hadn't gotten one years ago from her parents.
There was a page marked with a ridiculous silver flaked serpent bookmark, a long green sparkling tongue coming from the serpent's mouth.
"Chapter Three: How to Hold your Broom for Beginners," Katie read out loud slowly, "that absolute—the nerve of—fuck you, Montague!" Katie shrieked. Her father hummed tunelessly.
"Well, best to ignore them, honey, boys who pay that much attention to you are just socially ill adapted and unequipped to flirting," Bill said, the glazed look in his eye still there.
"Flirt this!" Katie said, impotently throwing the book into the fireplace The fire was unlit.
"Matches are on the mantelpiece," Bill said, basting a chicken.
"And that's why Slytherins all sing, Weasley is our King!"
Katie's ears actually throbbed whenever she flew by the Slytherins, but even worse, her stomach was in knots of rage and sympathetic anxiety for Ron Weasley, her heart pounding, her palms clammy. Ange passed the Quaffle to her, her jaw tight, and Katie swooped over Warrington, who sped on his faster broom to try to intercept her, singing like a ponce. On her left Montague swooped in, winking at her and blowing kisses like he always did.
"Plonker," Katie seethed, changing her grip on her broom to her original grip deliberately.
"Bell, did you not get my book?" Montague said.
He wasn't singing now, but Katie had seen him singing and grinning like an arse earlier. She put on a burst of speed. Montague had the faster broom. But Katie was lighter. Katie was better.
"Hey!"
"Suck it, Montague," Katie shouted, "go sing another nursery rhyme about how Slytherins always lose to us."
She flung the Quaffle and scored, exhilaration rising in her. For two fucking seconds, the song stopped. Then it restarted. Katie groaned.
"Your doing?" she asked, as Bletchely tossed the Quaffle to Pucey, who sped off in the opposite direction, Katie and the other Chasers well…chasing.
"Pucey learning to fly better?" Montague shouted back, "sure. That's me. I told you we'd wipe the floor with–"
"The stupid song," Katie shouted back, not in the mood for banter.
She wasn't in the mood to talk to Montague at all, really, but she couldn't fully get rid of him when he had a Nimbus 2001. Above her, Harry swooped on his Firebolt and Malfoy followed like a putz, then Harry rose again, frustration on his face. The song was distracting all of them, Ron most of all, but it had to be rattling Harry as well. Katie had seen the look of agony on his face during their practices lately when Ron dropped the Quaffle, even if he'd tried to hide it.
"Oh, that," Montague said, "Not a fan? Well, I'll tell Malfoy. He'll be so mad someone dared to criticize him he'll make one for you, next. Katie Bell, you're in hell–"
"That I am," Katie shouted, her head starting to throb as the Slytherins grew louder. Pucey threw, and was intercepted by Alicia. "Ha!"
"Looks like I'll be winning today," Montague shouted. No matter how hard Katie tried to shake him, he was still keeping pace with her.
"In your dreams," Katie shot back.
"Pucker up, Bell," Montague said, and he swerved when George knocked a bludger at him, and Katie escaped.
Thank god. Fred had already cornered her more than once since seeing Montague talking with her at the end of last year, reminded her that Montague was a pig and a liar, and Katie had shouted back that she wasn't an idiot.
"Well it looks like you're under a love potion," Fred had shouted back.
"What, when I kicked him in the shins and slapped him in the face?" Katie had shrieked in return.
"Tell me," Katie shouted, her throat hurting from how loud she had to be for Monague to hear her over the Slytherin's sad little howling of a nursery rhyme, "did you get points for your stupid game when I slapped you?"
"I did, actually!" Montague shouted back, "but it seems you grabbed Pucey a few days before, so he's still ahead!"
They both dodged a Bludger in unison. Ron missed another goal. Katie stopped herself from reacting. Barely.
"I was trying to save myself from–" Katie thought better of it, "yeah, sure, I decided Pucey should win!"
"I'll win when you kiss me," Monague shouted, dodging another rocketing Bludger Fred had hit his way with extra murderous intent.
"Too bad you're going to lose the match!" Katie retorted, and Ron missed and Slytherin scored again. She winced without thinking.
"How?" Montague shouted back, "Weasley cannot save a single thing!"
Out of the corner of her eye, Katie saw Harry dive. The match had barely started, but a grin split her face. Thank god.
"Maybe," she shouted, as Malfoy tried to tackle Harry midair and failed, and Harry triumphantly raised the Snitch as the Gryffindors howled in triumph and the Slytherins stopped singing mid word, "but Mafloy cannot catch a single Snitch, can he?"
She flew off with a cackle, hugging Harry and the twins and Ange and Alicia. She forgot about Ron. She felt bad about it, later, but not as bad as she felt next, when Malfoy started popping off at the mouth like the pathetic little worm that he was, and the next thing she knew she was having to restrain a half rabid Weasley twin from committing ferret homicide.
"I can't believe it," Katie hissed at her canopy, wincing. Maybe she should see if Pomfrey had something for sore muscles. She thought Fred had almost ripped her right arm off by accident when he'd heard Malfoy call his mother fat.
"Banned," Leanne said from the foot of Katie's bed, where she was painting her toenails, "banned, and Ron's self esteem is in the gutter!"
"Ron's self esteem is in the pits of Hades," Katie corrected, as Leanne picked up one of her feet and started painting her toenails as well.
"It's bad I know," Leanne said, "but we won, at least! The Slytherins lost. I can't believe they think they look good with that stupid song, they look bloody pathetic. Everyone should be laughing at them, not us."
"Extremely pathetic," Katie agreed, but she couldn't share Leanne's optimism at how the rest of the school would treat the Weasley is our King fiasco. "Are you adding gold glitter?" Katie asked, squinting down at Leanne's polishing.
"Yes, for Gryffindor," Leanne explained unnecessarily, "I know it's bad for the team, the twins gone, and with Oliver graduated, but–"
"Forget the twins," Katie said mutinously, for she'd had it up to here with Fred and his meddling, "Harry's gone! Don't you know we can't win without him? Everyone knows that."
"That's not true," Leanne said loyally, "besides, if you played the game and no one had Seekers, you're still the best team."
"Even without Wood and the twins?" Katie said, squinting suspiciously.
"Yes," Leanne lied.
"Are you adding a lion head to my big toe?" Katie asked, sitting up.
"I thought it would make him madder," Leanne shrugged.
"What, Malfoy?" Katie said blankly, "you would think, wouldn't you, that the fact that he lost, again, and he revealed to the whole school that he spends his free time writing Doctor Suess level diss songs and making his housemates practicing them like absolute dorks would end with him being the one that's humiliated and mocked, and not Ron for getting bullied and no one stopping it–"
"Montague," Leanne said, exasperated, "I'm painting your toenails for Montague, Katie!"
Katie's mouth fell open.
"Don't tell me you forgot!" Leanne said, her mouth falling open as well, before she pulled herself together, "how could you possibly have forgotten–"
"I have a lot on my mind!" Katie said, voice shrill. How the hell had she forgotten? Oh yeah, she'd just wrestled a borderline feral redhead to the ground while he swore at her and Alicia and Ange and he got kicked off the team anyway, without the satisfaction of getting to punch Malfoy in the mouth like Harry and George had. Fred had already reminded them four thousand times that he was the most wounded party of all, since his fist didn't have the muscle memory of Malfoy's face on it and he was still off the team.
"I dunno, I think I'd remember the horror of imminently having Montague's mouth on my body–"
"Quidditch is my life," Katie said in a hiss, swiftly looking around the room to make sure their roommates were still asleep. She'd been far too wired to go to bed herself and Leanne had stayed up to keep her company. She didn't appreciate Leanne's friendship enough, sometimes. Maybe she should buy her a little present in thanks. "I was distracted by the thought of another wasted year, after that stupid Triwizard cup–"
"Ruined your life fifth year," Leanne said in unison with her, "I know, I know! I agree, I don't know why we couldn't do both, don't start up again. It's not like Harry was using all of his free time from Quidditch to actually prepare for the tournament."
"And yet he won anyway," Katie said, shaking her head in admiration. Harry's ability to fall arse backwards into any situation and come out victorious was a glorious thing to behold. It certainly made it easier to believe all the Chosen one rubbish, at any rate, especially when she hadn't grown up with it like the wizard born.
"He's an impressive guy," Leanne agreed, "so you're collecting tomorrow, I presume? Really rub salt in the wound and all that."
"I–I originally called that bet off," Katie said wildly. Well, she had! Just because she'd let Montague reinstate it out of a sense of apathetic boredom…
"You won," Leanne said incredulously as she embellished the tiny mane on Katie's left big toe, "why are you trying to get out of it? He didn't win. You don't have to kiss him or something disgusting like that."
"His diseased Slytherin mouth is still going to be on my feet!" Katie hissed, her skin crawling, "they're all so disgusting. All of them! He was singing that dumb song too, like he's a five year old bully."
"Well make fun of him while he's doing it," Leanne said, "what's wrong with you? It's going to be hilarious!"
"True," Katie said cautiously. It would be funny. She'd make him kneel, too, so he'd look as subservient as possible. He'd absolutely hate that.
"I can't believe you'll forget all this," Leanne said, "it's going to be a pivotal moment of your adolescent life, and yet–"
"Huh?" Katie said eloquently. They were on a different bed. The red velvet hangings were gone, and so was the lion nail polish. They were on a giant green silk covered bed, and there was a painted nail polish snake on Katie's toes, and a matching glittery snake on Leanne's right temple, next to her eyes, which were hallowed, deep purple shadows under them.
"What is going on?" Katie demanded, "what happened to–"
The room disappeared, and she was in the Gryffindor common room late at night, alone with Dean Thomas.
"Yeah sure," Dean said with a lopsided grin, "Ginny's thrown me over. I don't mind."
"Great," Katie said, "that necklace made me realize dying a virgin would have been really tragic on my part, and–"
The common room disappeared and she was sitting on a desk. The walls surrounding her were covered in Slytherin banners and pennants and pictures.
"Atmospheric," Katie said, trying to fill the awkward silence and trying to make it look she was not filling the awkward silence due to nerves.
"Why are you sitting on my desk?" Montague asked, crossing his arms.
"You told me to sit," Katie said with an attempt at a casual shrug, but the truth was, she'd panicked and sat on the closest surface.
Why had she let Montague lead her to the Slytherin Quidditch team's captain office? This was how murder scenes got started.
"Leanne's got my location," she added hastily.
"Okay?" Montague said, looking at Katie like she'd gone daft.
He'd thrown off his outer robe and it was lying on the squashy green couch. His shirt sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, and Katie had far too good of a look at his giant hairy forearms. Her stomach turned with revulsion. God. Thank Christ she didn't have to kiss him, at least.
"In case you've got any funny ideas about murdering me," Katie clarified, looking around the office like she didn't have a care in the world, even though her heart was in her throat with fear and disgust and yes, a tiny bit of excitement.
Summer had been fun, until it hadn't been, and she'd missed magic and her school friends and excitement. Then Summer had become boring, even when she was dragged to muggle parties and had practiced her new kissing abilities with Sean Horowitz, one of her old mates from her old life. Katie deserved some excitement, didn't she? The Gryffindor Quidditch team deserved some retribution from the Slytherins, didn't they? Katie had to make this as horrible as possible for Montague for retribution, and justice, and the Gryffindor way or some rubbish Leanne had hyped her up with.
"I'm the one getting punished here," Montague scoffed, "murder you? What –that's a joke, right? You Gryffindors have such terrible senses of humor it's hard to tell sometimes."
"Says the boy who was singing a song written by mean toddlers aimed at a boy two years younger than you," Katie sneered, tearing her gaze away from a horrid winking photo of Flint. She kicked off one shoe, then the other, forcing herself to make eye contact with Montague. "Well hurry up Montague. Pucker up. I've got things to do."
"Like what?" Montague sneered, "sitting around in a circle with your Gryffindor mates talking about how superior you are to everyone else while you hold hands?"
"Sounds like a Friday night for the Slytherins," Katie retorted. She almost removed her socks to reveal her glorious lion pedicure, but on second thought, she wasn't sure if she wanted Montague ever touching her bare flesh again. If he didn't kiss her bare feet, she wouldn't protest and make him, even if it was more humiliating for him that way. It was a win for both of them if she didn't make him. She'd just lie to Leanne later, and feel guilty then.
"Please," Montague said, "like the Slytherins could get along long enough to be in a room together every week."
"Oh?" Katie said, intrigued against her will, for if there was one thing the Slytherins were good at, was presenting a united front of odious smugness. Hadn't they just proven it with their stupid badges and stupid synchronized song? "How'd you all manage your lame little choir practice, then?"
"Mutual hatred of Gryffindors," Montague said at once, "listen, are you going to let me count this on the scorecard? Johnson told Cassius to shove an aardvark up his arshole a week ago and he took half points for it, pretended it was a sexual come-on, but–"
"No," Katie said at once, "absolutely not. If you tell anyone, I'll go to McGonagall and tell her you Imperius'd me into it." She refused to blink as she lied through her teeth to Montague, and he laughed once, a sharp sound.
"I knew you were more interesting than the others," he said.
Katie refused to feel flattered. She certainly didn't want to feel interesting to a gross little arse like the one in front of her.
"Well I tell the truth,' she said, "I'm sure you have little to no experience with that in Slytherin."
"Can't argue with that," Montague shrugged, "and since you're truth telling…care to share if Zabini is still bothering you?"
"No," Katie said.
"No he's not bothering you, or no you won't–"
"He's ignored me all summer and all year so far," Katie said. She was trying not to think about Zabini. He'd rattled the hell out of her last year, by revealing he'd known far too much about her parents.
"Good," Montague shrugged, and the tiny little smirk that appeared and disappeared meant nothing to past Katie, but when she came out of her fog and into her bedroom with Harry taking a nap with his mouth hanging open next to her she'd realize that Montague must have done something to stop Zabini, just like he'd done something to stop
Flint and Skeeter from spilling everything to the wizarding world.
"So as fun as it is to hang out with you in this disgusting office, can we get this over with?" Katie said. The sooner it happened, the sooner the pain would be over. Hopefully, she'd get to never talk to Montague again.
"Sure," Montague said, the tiny smirk growing, "tired of waiting, eh?"
"The nausea is exhausting, yes," Katie said. it unnerved her when Montague stalked forward, surprisingly light on his feet for such a giant slab of ham and placed his hands on her knees, which she'd zipped shut.
"Hey!" Katie said, "no one said you could touch–" she gasped when Montague pried apart her legs, just a little. She felt her face go bright red, humiliating her even worse.
"There's no need to–" she tried to squirm away, but Montague was still smirking at her when he reached up to her left sock, right below her knee, and pulled it down. Oh. Thank god. Her mind had taken her to a much worse place, initially.
"Easy, Katie," Montague snickered, "what did you think I was doing?"
"I can't predict the disease ridden thoughts of a Slytherin mind," Katie covered, "I don't have a brain that's half rotted, half evil–could you hurry it up?!" for Montague was making rather an ordeal out of removing just one sock. His fingers were trailing lightly down her calf, and Katie felt herself break out into goosebumps. The smirk increased.
"Problem, Katie?" Montague asked, "this is your idea, you know."
Katie glared at him as he finally tossed her sock away, then moved to her right leg. Of course he'd think the goosebumps meant something sexual, and not something that would happen to literally anyone as a biological response to getting tickled!
"Yes," she said, "no one said you could call me Katie."
She knew what Montague was on about now, based on his smug little expressions. He was mad of course that he was having to degrade himself by kissing a mudblood's feet, and so he was making this as uncomfortable for Katie as possible. Arse! Two could play that game. And she'd actually been thinking of ways to make this less awful for both of them!
"Even if I say you can call me Graham?" Montague asked, tossing the second sock aside. Katie opened her mouth to force him to kneel, he was sure to hate that, and before a single sound could escape her Montague knelt in front of her slightly parted legs. Katie pivoted frantically.
"Who says I'd want to?" she retorted, "you're lucky I'm not calling you a–a–bird brained bigot." As insults went, it wasn't her finest hour.
"Noted," Montague said, "I'll refrain from calling you by your first name when fulfilling one of your sexual fantasies. Totally normal behavior, Bell. Very sane Gryffindor stuff."
"Sexual fan–" Katie's outraged half yell was swallowed with a horrid sound, like she'd trod on a mouse, when Montague leaned forward and kissed her left foot, tongue darting out.
"What else would you call this?" Montague murmured into her foot, and Katie realized something had gone horribly, terribly wrong in this exchange.
"It's meant to humiliate you!" she got out with some effort, as Montague kissed her ankle, then her calf, then back to her foot.
"Whatever flies your broom," Montague shrugged, "I'm happy to oblige."
"You absolute sick–this wasn't a sexual–you don't have to snog them, I just said–" Montague licked her toes and Katie gave a shuddering yelp of horror. At least she thought it was horror. Wasn't it?
"I'd prefer to kiss you a lot of other places," Montague said, as Katie stared at him in a sort of mesmerized trance of shock and disgust, "but if this is the one that gets you going, that's the most important part to me."
Katie tried to speak, but couldn't. What was happening? Why wasn't she stopping him? Montague was kissing up her leg, to her knee, to her inner thigh, before he switched legs to her right inner thigh, smirking up at her the whole while like somehow he'd been the one to win their bet, somehow she was the one being humiliated, and not him.
"So tell me, Bell, is it the humiliation part? Me kneeling in front of you? Or do you just have a foot fetish?"
Katie came to her senses and yanked her leg away. She was supposed to be the one winning here! What was going on? Why was she the one losing?
"I thought you'd be disgusted and embarrassed to be touching a mudblood like this, Montague!" she said, and Montague recaptured her leg with his hand.
"I didn't even get to your other foot," he said.
"Whose fault is that?" Katie demanded, squirming. Oh god, fighting Montague like this had made her legs spread further apart! She hurriedly closed her thighs. What the hell had she been thinking! Her brain was too innocent to do anything like this with a Slytherin and escape unharmed.
"Yours, clearly," Montague said, resuming his journey of kissing down her right leg, "so, Bell, this was never a sexual thing to you, you're claiming?"
"No! You absolute menace!"
"Great," Montague said, "but it was to me." His tongue darted out and slid down from the top of her sole to the heel.
Katie yelped.
"I don't have a foot fetish, Montague! God!"
"Fine," Montague shrugged, "pick a different spot for me to kiss. What's going to get you going?"
Lunatics. Every Slytherin was a raging lunatic. There must be something in the dungeons to turn them this way. the air, maybe, or Snape drugged their water supply with some sort of insanity making potion.
"Me kicking your teeth in," Katie hissed, trying to do so, but her feet were bare and Montague's giant arms were stronger, and he merely laughed, placing another kiss on the inner part of her knee. Katie covered the unexpected shudder that had run through her by kicking Montague with her left foot and knocking him over.
"Ow! Bell, you raving maniac-"
"That's my line!" Katie blustered, jumping off the desk and grabbing her socks and shoes, "great, we're done, you lost the best, I won, if you tell anyone I'm telling McGonagall you Imperius'd me and no one will believe you over me, fabulous we've got this covered. Don't talk to me again!"
Katie tried to run to the door without visibly running. She must not look deranged! Just because she was running out of the Slytherin Quidditch captain's office holding her socks and shoes and presumably looking like a tomato…
"Ravenclaw versus Hufflepuff," Montague called to her back as her hand grabbed the door handle, "who've you got?"
"Hufflepuff," Katie said automatically, turning to Montague, who was sitting on his own desk now, "Cho's flying like rubbish now, and–" she stopped herself mid sentence, furious at herself for getting tricked into engaging with Montague again. Damn him for using her Quidditch obsession against her!
"And?" Montage prompted, as Katie yanked on her socks with a frenzied rage, then her shoes.
"And nothing, I'm not giving you free tips. Slytherin can lose every match for all I care."
"Ravenclaw will win," Montague said confidently, "Chang's been having issues, it's true, but Summerby doesn't remotely compare to Diggory."
"What's this?" Katie sneered, "complimenting Cedric, now? Don't want to mock his murder some more?"
Later, when she recounted the whole incident to Leanne, she'd have no answer for her best mate on why she continued to engage with Montague when she could've never spoken to him again.
No good answer, anyway.
"I chose him to win the tournament, didn't I?" Montague shrugged, "Just because you Gryffindors are so sensitive to innocent jokes–"
"Hufflepuff will smash Ravenclaw," Katie blustered, for all she didn't quite believe it herself, "you can bank on that!"
"Oh?" Montague said, "care to make a wager?"
"Katie you didn't!" Leanne wailed.
"It all happened so fast!" Katie hissed, "I was confused! His saliva on my feet was poisoning me, I'm telling you! Like some kind of evil lizard!"
"Who's an evil lizard?" Fred said as he walked out of the transfiguration classroom holding hands with Ange, George showing off one of their newest products to one of their classmates behind them.
"No one," Katie said, too fast, and Fred's eyes narrowed.
"Katie, don't tell me you're talking about who I think–"
"I'm not," Katie retorted, flashing a glance to Ange and then away, and by Fred's thinning lips Katie knew he'd taken her meaning quite plainly. Keep talking, and she'd reveal the Slytherin bet to Ange and Alicia too, no matter how much Fred begged her not to.
"We're talking about Malfoy," Leanne lied, "trying to think of revenge for that stupid song."
"A better idea," Fred said, "we teach Ron how to play Keeper."
"Don't," Ange warned.
"That's your brother," Katie snapped, "maybe that's why he's so–" In the distance, she saw Warrington and Montague lounging against the wall after walking out of the transfiguration classroom, smirking at her and Leanne. Fuck.
"So terrible at Quidditch?" Fred said, "don't blame me for that. We often think he was left in a basket in the woods and mum took him in out of charity."
"Odd, considering he looks just like you,'' Katie said coldly, tearing her gaze away from Montague, who'd winked at her, and then blown her a kiss. Fucking hell!
"That's the meanest thing you've ever said to me," Fred said, sounding impressed, "I'll have to tell George. He'll never believe you'd be that vicious."
"Yeah yeah," Katie said, no longer paying attention, "say, Hufflepuff is definitely winning against Ravenclaw, right?"
Fred's amused facial expression disappeared, "Do you have to rub it in, Katie? I don't particularly want to think about my doomed Quidditch career every second of every day. It's bad enough with those Slytherin twats reminding me in every class–"
"They're losing," Ange said, "Ravenclaw is winning."
Katies blood ran cold. If Ange agreed with Montague, maybe she'd misjudged Cho. Again.
"Cho is crying all over the place, I"ve heard," she said nervously. Montague winked at her again. Would George hurry up so they could all leave discreetly, and not in a way that made it look like Katie was fleeing with terror! She felt the phantom press of lips and tongue on her feet and legs and shuddered in horror. She tore her gaze away.
Fred was watching her with such narrowed eyes she knew she'd have to avoid being alone with him for at least a week. Maybe it would take two weeks even, for him to forget that Katie needed another talking to about the evils of Graham Montague.
"She is," Ange said with a shrug, "poor girl. Who wouldn't cry over Cedric. But she's mad at their new captain. Cadwallader. He said they didn't need Cedric to win the cup and she took it personally."
"She's just one player," Katie said, even more nervously, "I think Hufflepuff could still pull it out!"
"Why are you so concerned with it?" Fred said, "it'll be better if Ravenclaw wins for our chances."
"How so?" Leanne asked.
"Well–"
Katie's eyes wandered back to Montague again, and he blew her another kiss. "Soon," he mouthed, like he was a slasher in a horror movie coming to kill her.
"Never," Katie mouthed back.
Why had she let Montague bet her another kiss if he won? Why?
"Are you talking to yourself without sound?" Ange said suddenly, "you alright, Katie?"
"Yes," Katie said at once, and she knew by the way Fred was looking at her he wasn't going to forget in a week or two to have a chat with her about Montague. He might never forget. "Perfectly fine."
"Great," Ange said, "let's get back to how we need to replace almost half our team before we lose every other match this year."
Katie watched Ravenclaw demolish Hufflepuff half hidden behind her hands, the warnings from Fred ringing in her ears.
Katie, I'm only not telling George about this because I know if I do he'll overreact and spill the beans to Alicia and Ange, and then the team will be even worse off after Alicia snogs the entire Slytherin Quidditch team and develops a terminal disease, but you should know that Montague is the spawn of satan.
The other day in Herbology he was snogging Candace Caradoc behind a venomous plant, and it looked disgusting. So not only is he flirting with you when he's got a public girlfriend, but he's a bad kisser on top of it, Katie!
Do I have to write Oliver? What if he snogs you instead, will that distract you enough to get over Montague? No I'm not saying you want Montague, please, I'm saying you think you'll get away with tormenting him for fun. You won't! He'll come for you, make your life miserable–
He's going to tell everyone you shagged him, even if you just give him a hug, Katie!
You really want to get a bloke who mocks me and George for being poor all the time, Katie?
He's called you a–a you know what, Katie, about you being a Muggleborn! Maybe he's smart enough to not do it to your face but he–
"So what did you bet again?" Leanne said under her breath, "If you win, I mean."
"I told him to punch Warrington in the face in public," Katie said through her hands, "for you, and for Ange, but I didn't tell him why I wanted it."
"Oh Katie," Leanne said, "is that how he tricked you into it?"
"Yes," Katie said, "also, I'm clearly very stupid."
"Right," Leanne said, "lucky for you your best friend isn't. I've got a plan."
Ravenclaw scored again. They were up one hundred and sixty. Even if Hufflepuff caught the Snitch…Cho dove, Summerby on her heels, and then she was raising the Snitch above her head, a golden glitter in the sun.
"Bloody hell!" Katie shrieked.
"Pucker up, Bell," the parchment read. Katie fed Montague's owl a piece of bacon and it hooted and flew off. She handed the note to Leanne, who promptly tore it to shreds. She could feel Montague's glare from across the room.
"When are you going to do it?" Leanne asked, picking up a piece of toast.
"I guess I should get it over with," Katie said, in the tone of a person being dragged to the gallows.
"And no more bets after this," Leanne said from the corner of her mouth as they saw the twins approach with Ange, "no matter how he manipulates you!"
"No," Katie agreed, "I've learned my lesson, I swear. I'll never talk to him again." She attacked her omelet with vigor.
"Don't," Leanne pleaded, her voice thin and strained.
"What?" Katie asked, "don't tell me you like him now, this was your idea!" She looked up. Leanne was so skinny and pale she almost didn't recognize her. She was wearing black lace robes. She looked like a ghost haunting a Victorian mansion.
"It's starting," Leanne said grimly, "stop it now."
"Stop what?" Katie said blankly, "what's wrong with–"
The Great Hall swirled away, and she was sitting on a patch of grass round the lake near the back, polishing her broom with the apathy of a girl who knew they were going to lose the cup. How Sloper and Kirke were still worse Beaters than Ron was Keeper, when he hadn't made a goal in a solid month… a giant tree half blocked her from the castle and its windows. Leanne had run back to the castle to pee, even after Katie had promised she wouldn't watch if she peed against a bush. She'd been a fool to think she'd be okay to be alone here. A twig snapped, and Katie looked up at once. Her nightmares came true when Montague's hideous smirking face came round the tree.
"Are you stalking me?" Katie asked, voice high. She'd been very, very careful to not be alone, for all her bluster to Leanne about getting the kiss over with.
"I've got a life, Bell," Monague scoffed, leaning against the tree, "I saw you from the pitch with that moldy flying log of yours. For our next bet, ask me to get you a Nimbus."
"There's no next bet," Katie said, "that's over now."
"Sore loser, I see," Montague snickered, "I thought Gryffindors had honor and chivalry and all that rubbish? Well we all knew that was a lie."
"Well we were all lied to about Slytherins being cunning," Katie said, "since Malfoy is plagiarizing Doctor Seuss and you all think it's the height of hilarity." The blank look of incomprehension on Montague's face raised her mood the tiniest bit. She glanced at his robes. Well. At least he wasn't wearing the stupid Weasley is our King badge anymore.
"Doc–tor…?"
"Thanks for proving me right," Katie snickers, "god, would it kill you to read a book sometime?"
"What's the point of learning muggle rubbish?" Montague sneered, and Katie praised Leanne and her genius internally for the millionth time for getting her out of snogging this absolute bigoted gross arse in front of her.
"Oh I don't know," Katie said, "only, if you cared about human beings at all–"
"I don't care about Muggles," Montague said, looking disgusted at the thought, "they're little better than animals."
"Shut your mouth about Muggles," Katie said, lunging to her feet without even remembering doing it. She fingered her wand in her pocket, dying to punish Montague. It was a bad idea. Not only was he a year ahead of her, he had been raised by purebloods. He was in Slytherin. He'd probably turn her into fungus on the toenail of an emu.
"Oh, sorry," Montague said, "I forgot. I suppose you love your parents and all." He said it in a tone of vaguely confused boredom, like he and Katie were talking about her favorite pets, a pair of geriatric rabbits.
"Some of us do," she said, "I know that confuses you since you're in Slytherin."
"My father is a heartless bastard," Montague shrugged, leaning against a tree, "don't get all mad, Bell! It's mean of you to rub it in, you know. Not all of us have parents that love us. Just be grateful that you do."
"I am," Katie said, outraged, "don't flip this on me! You're not the injured party, here!'
"Alright fine," Montague said, "I'll read a book about Muggles. You can pick it out for me. There. Are you happy?"
The conversation had taken such an odd turn in words and tone Katie was momentarily thrown. "You need more than one book," was all she could manage to force out, "maybe meet a Muggle, see if you like them. It might blow your mind."
"Great," Montague shrugged, "introduce me to your parents over the Christmas hols. I can travel to wherever."
Katie was sure she'd lost her mind. Or maybe it was Montague who had lost his, and she had heard him correctly.
"Why would you meet my parents?" she asked finally, "so you can…can hex them, or something?"
"It is customary to meet your girlfriend's parents," Montague said, rolling his eyes, "isn't it? maybe you should give me a book on Muggle dating etiquette if it's not."
"Dating?" Katie almost shrieked, "girlfriend? Are you as deranged as Zabini? Is it your father's genes?"
"His what?" Montague said.
"His–look, it's like…you're born with this code in your body's cells, right? And in that code–"
Montague was looking at her like she'd lost her mind.
"Right," Katie said, "a book on biology first. Mum's been making me read them since I was five. You might be able to handle it."
"You're making this up," Montague said, looking confident again, "Funny, really. Cells. Ok, sure, Bell, I'll read a book on jail cells in our bodies."
"Great," Katie retorted, "then I'll introduce you as my boyfriend to my Muggle parents, since you love Muggles so much now."
"Excellent," Montague said, "I've been bored out of my mind this year. Might as well kill off my father from the shame."
"You've been bored?" Katie said, "this year? The year a pink toad is trying to ruin our school? The year You-Know-Who is back? The year you got the twins and Harry kicked off our team with your sore loser bullshit?"
"That wasn't me," Montague said, annoyed, "I just agreed to that song, to wind Weasley the Most Useless up. Malfoy insisted it would rattle him and he'd play like rubbish, and he was right, wasn't he?"
"It was immature, disgusting, and pathetic," Katie said coldly.
"Potter's fine. The Chosen One, as always. As for the twins," Montague said with an eyeroll, "please. They just tried to kick me down the stairs after Charms yesterday."
"Shame they failed," Katie retorted.
"They said something to me about you, actually," Montague said, his eyes watching her carefully. Katie affected a look of boredom.
"What, that you disgust me and I hate you?" She said.
"Something like that," Montague said, a tiny smile on his mouth Katie didn't like one bit, "they really didn't like it when I told them how wrong they are."
"Silly of them," Katie said, "since they really should've felt pity for you and the brain damage that confused you otherwise. Maybe get that looked at, Montague. I didn't think you were as dumb as the rest of your mates, but clearly something happened over the summer, and now you think Malfoy's a person you should listen to, and that I don't vomit in my mouth at the sight of you."
"Come on, Katie," Montague said, the evil smile growing, "we both know you left a wet spot on my desk after that day in my office."
Katie dearly wished, when she thought about this horrible and humiliating conversation over and over while she tried to sleep and failed that she'd immediately come back with some pithy insult, that she hadn't been thrown by this comment into a short circuit, but unfortunately, all she could remember is what actually happened.
"I–what? I wasn't—you're so gross, Montague, god!"
"So I imagined it?" Montague said, "I imagined how me kissing you got you going?"
"Yes," Katie said, fury rising for being afraid, even for a second, of Montague, "you think I don't know when I'm–" she swallowed "wet" before it passed her lips, "into a guy?"
"So I exaggerated the wet spot," Montague said with an eyeroll, "a boy can have a fantasy, can't he?"
"Not if it's about me," Katie said, biting her lip and looking about for an escape from this disgusting conversation.
"I hate to break it to you Bell, but you can't actually control someone else's thoughts," Montague snorted, "not without some illegal black magic, anyway."
"Azkaban will be worth it," Katie said grimly.
"I think you'd get worse than Azkaban for conducting black magic on the entire Slytherin Quidditch team," Montague snorted.
The wheels turned in Katie's brain. Slowly.
"Are you saying–"
"Merlin you're slow today," Montague said, "are you that excited about our kiss that you can't think?"
"Horrified, more like," Katie corrected, "are you really saying the Slytherin Quidditch team all–" Words left her. It was too gross.
"Wank furiously and think about you? yes," Montague shrugged, "not just you. Calm down. I'm sure there's at least ten Gryffindor girls that get that honor."
"Honor?" Katie said, half barfing in her mouth, "or nightmare that would plague them the rest of their life if they knew?"
"Don't get jealous now, Bell," Montague said, "don't worry. You're my favorite to wank to."
Katie felt honest to god bile in the back of her throat.
"I can die happy now," she said, her voice flat.
"You should be flattered," Montague shrugged, "your turn. Who is your favorite? That French toad, now?"
"My favorite what?" Katie said blankly.
"You can drop the helpless virgin act," Montague scoffed, "you know what I mean."
"I do not," Katie said, baffled, "who is my favorite what?"
Montague rolled his eyes. "Who is your favorite fantasy wank partner, Bell? Are you flying backwards today? Is a monkey clanging symbols in your brain?"
The bile almost choked her.
"Oliver Wood," Katie blurted out the first name she could think of in a panic.
"Wood?" Montague practically shouted, "fucking–Wood? Out of all the–Wood?"
"Yes," Katie lied unblinkingly. There was absolutely no point in trying to explain Brad Pitt in Interview with the Vampire right now to Montague.
"You're lying," Montague said at once, "tell me you're lying, or I have no idea how I'm going to kiss you knowing that–"
"Wood, every time," Katie said, forcing herself to look convincing, "no one else, ever! Just Wood. It's ok, I'll let you out of the bet. I understand if that disgusts you too much to kiss-"
"Right," Montague said, eyes narrowed, "I see your game. Not very honest and noble of you, eh Bell? Very Slytherin of you, one might say. Pucker up. I'm owed a kiss."
"Great," Katie said, taking a half step back, and thinking of Leanne and her plan. She dodged when Montague swooped toward her mouth and hit the tree, "only, you didn't stipulate where you got to put the kiss, did you?"
A blank look was on Montague's face, and then an evil grin split it. "Bell, if you want me to kiss your cunt instead, I'm more than–"
"Nevermind," Katie said loudly, "Just get it over with." Her heart was beating so fast. Was Leanne right? Would this get her out of it?
Montague boxed her into the tree with his arms, and she tried not to grimace. He leaned forward to kiss her, and at the last possible second Katie turned her head violently to the left and Montague's disgusting mouth was on her cheek.
"You win!" Katie said, twisting herself so she got out from under Montague's arms, for she and Leanne had not planned for him trying to follow her mouth with his own like he was currently doing, "congratulations! You kissed me! You can win your gross bet. I'm done making bets with you! Bye!'
"Bell that was on the cheek!" Montague said angrily as she wiggled away like an eel, "get back here and stop being a coward!"
"It's not my fault you didn't specify where you wanted it," Katie said, trying not to look giddy and failing, a half laugh of relief escaping her, "and now you got a kiss, so I fulfilled my half of the deal. Bye!" She made to dart away, and Montague's giant hand closed on her right wrist and pulled her round again. "Do you mind!"
"Weasley told you about Candace," Montague said coldly, "didn't he?"
"Who?" Katie said, "what now?" She had almost escaped, "let go, would you? You grabbing me like a feral gorilla wasn't part of the deal, you know."
Montague's hand got tighter.
"You know what I'm talking about," he said, "fucking Weasley told you that I was kissing Candace in Herbology, and now you're acting like a child about it. Don't get mad at me that I'm having some fun on the side because you're too busy cock teasing me to give it to me yourself, Bell."
"What?" Katie said, twisting her wrist harder, but Montague refused to let go, and she realized that he'd let her get away from him moments before. There was no way she could ever have gotten away from him, otherwise, without the use of magic.
"Don't get all immature about this," Montague warned, "you're the one I want, she's the one for fun. Don't get offended because you think it's the reverse."
The pieces clicked together through her panic.
"You pig, are you saying what I think you're saying?" Katie said, "and I told you to let go of me, Montague!"
"I'd rather kiss you," Montague said, "I'd rather take you to my office and fuck you over my desk instead, but since you won't even let me kiss you what else am I supposed to do? I'm not marrying the girl, so stop being jealous."
There was a weird twinge in Katie's guts that wasn't fear or anger or disgust. Was Montague saying he was fucking other girls? And why should she care? She hated him!
Leanne was there again. She looked like a ghost.
"Get out of here," Leanne said grimly, "write Oliver. Tell George, not Fred. Fred made a mistake. Fred made a lot of mistakes."
"I don't care who you fuck," Katie said, blinking, and Leanne was gone, "I don't care who you kiss. But it won't be me. It won't ever be me. You make me sick!" She twisted her arm one last time and Montague, whose face had twitched when she'd said he made her sick, dropped her arm at last and she ran away, not even caring about her dignity at this point. There was a thought in her mind that she should tell the twins about this together, and ask them for help, but the thought flit through her brain and left at once. No. The twins would try to kill Montague. She couldn't have that on her conscience, no matter how much she hated him. She'd just tell Leanne, and they'd gag together and laugh about it and Katie would stop feeling so sick and scared. Everything would be fine.
Author's Note: I was editing this chapter and thinking "Jesus H they're all going to think you're totally unhinged writing this" and then I remembered if you read my stories you already know I'm unhinged. :) Thanks for the support!