A/N: Thinking a lot of disjointed things right now, thus I must use numbers:

1. Just need to share: I'm feeling really bummed about Robin Williams, and about Lauren Bacall. The world lost two really good ones, yeah? RIP.

2. Perhaps inappropriately (after what I've just said), F, guys. I think I've found my Oliver. Theo James, anybody? Clean shaven. In a white T-shirt. Or a sweater. Or with no shirt. Hot damn. Hot. Damn. He looks just like how I imagine widdle movie canon Oliver Wood would/should have matured into the Unwilling Quidditch Hunk we all know and love.

3. Also, thanks for all your awesome feedback on the last chapter! All of your kind words and constructive criticism never fail to make me smile :) Shout-out in particular to MelodyPond77, pandagods, Columbia R0se, and Elara Perry - thanks for the long and helpful reviews. Sean, Bruna, and Bea are rather dear to me, after Katie and Oliver, of course. Just to answer a question: Bruna in my head is around 25/26 years old. And for all you readers worried about it, I've decided against the M rating... for now. I've come to think of AWOC (lol can I call it that yet?) as a TV series-like thing with episodes, and writing few extra moments here and there is something I enjoy. So if I do come out with something M-rated for this fic's universe, it will likely be a separate, extra, optional story. How's that for a compromise? :)

Anyway, enjoy!

Chapter 22 - The Bubble is Burst

"Are you sure it's gonna hold?" Katie reached a hand up to tug at an invisible line at her jaw. "It feels too big!" She looked about self-consciously as she and Alicia made their way up to the viewing box. Thanks to the glamour, her hair was now a deep shade of brown, and her nose was larger, more Italian. It felt bizarre, to say the least.

"Quite sure. It's not even really there! It's just heavy air. Now stop touching!" Alicia slapped her hand away. "Glamours aren't very comfortable at first. Yours'll probably feel like a second skin in the next half hour."

"But -"

Alicia tsked exasperatedly. "You know, now that you're on the brink of Britain-wide recognition, it would do you some good to get used to disguises. D'you want to see this game or not?"

Katie shut up, knowing Alicia was right. It had taken enough effort just trying to get to Scotland undetected, let alone leave Wales!

"So you got out of practice no problem?"

"I wouldn't say that." Though the Harpies had finished practice early that day, their casual locker room meeting afterwards seemed to drag on endlessly. She excused herself under the pretense of having to answer fan mail, of which there wasn't much yet. Bruna had plastered a neutral expression on her face, but Wilda and a few others shot her knowing looks that she ignored as she retreated hastily. Feeling the heat of Gwen's and Coach King's stares, she did not dare look back.

"But you didn't ask permission, either."

"No. I would get skinned alive if they knew about Oliver! They don't even know about Bruna and Sean Flanner - well, not really."

"I don't see what the big deal is. You've already been covered in the news."

"Gossip news."

"You're all grown-up professionals."

"Grown-up professionals with brand identities to protect in public. Harpies? Puddlemere? E-ne-mies."

"What's the basis?"

Katie shrugged. "General man-hating? It kind of just is."

"Convincing," Alicia drawled. "Truly."

They walked into the viewing box, which was decked out in garish purple and gold. The Prides were known for being ostentatious, and Katie was thankful that her disguise covered the look of distaste she was certain was on her face.

"A bit tawdry," Alicia remarked, eyeing a showy chandelier hanging in the entryway.

"It's like Gilderoy Lockhart threw up in here," Katie snickered. "All this brocade!" But what the box lacked in taste, it made up for in its warmth and its position in the stadium. VIPs and their guests had what was undoubtedly the best view, situated just above the hoops' level, and by the center area of the well-lit pitch, which was fortunately clear of snow. Just below them was the box assigned to Puddlemere's coaching staff, and across from them was the Prides' own VIP and coaching boxes, respectively.

"Thank you, Mr. Wood," breathed Alicia as they took two cushy seats. A snack attendant offered them hot chocolate with marshmallows, and caramel-coated popcorn. "How'd you two spend New Year's, by the way? I decided to stay with my family instead of attending the Weasleys' bash. Did you go?"

"Oh, no. You'd understand," Katie peered into her mug. "We both couldn't afford to get hammered and all shagged out so close to the season opening. So we just had a quiet little New Year's Eve celebration."

Alicia snorted. "Oh, please. Celebration? Rendezvous, more like. Don't deny it, you're totally in the googly-eyed, bubble stage."

"Bubble stage?"

"You know, when a new couple's so besotted with one another, and they can't go anywhere or do anything without each other, and spend all their free time gazing into each other's eyes and hunting for all sorts of creative ways and places to snog -"

"Whoa!" Katie felt slightly embarrassed. How did Alicia even know? "Give us a bit more credit. We prioritize our careers," she said, though it came out slightly rehearsed, like she was trying to convince herself, too. She lowered her voice. "I mean, it's Oliver we're talking about. Oliver. He's not your average hormonal male."

"And you're not just the average hormonal female," Alicia mock-whispered back. "I've said it a thousand times. You're his Kates. Gods, everyone with eyes knows he's always had it bad for you. He is so in love -"

"Shut it, Leesh," Katie blushed, fighting down the weird twitterpated feeling in her chest. "He hasn't even said... you know. That."

"But that doesn't mean it isn't true. Wood might not say much by way of endearments, but I'm sure you know it." Alicia wore a smug grin on her face. "You've told me he's very expressive in other ways."

Katie laughed then, only deigning to say, "I certainly don't have any complaints. And for all his - well, our - inexperience, it's been... Yeah. Oliver's not a fantastic athlete because he has a slow learning curve, you know."

"Then aren't you a lucky cow!" Alicia teased, delighted.

"Shh," Katie hissed suddenly. "Deverill's over there." The Puddlemere manager had entered the box, and was nervously making small talk with his rotund companion, whom Katie did not recognize. She didn't like how she could smell the lady's perfume from where they sat, a good three meters away. "Did you bring your Extendable Ears?"

Alicia tittered sheepishly. "Yeah."

"Give them here." Alicia surrendered her stash, groaning, "But don't you know the person he's talking to?"

"No, should I?"

"That's Priscilla Prigg, their head of PR. You told me once that Oliver hated her."

Katie took her in thoughtfully. "Yeah. From how he described her, I always imagined she'd look like Umbridge. Remind me to congratulate Ol on his excellent choice of adjectives."

"Ha! You're lucky she can't recognize you. Then you'd see her similarities with Umbridge go beyond merely the physical."

"You've met her?"

"She's a right cow. Gossipy as they come." The lights dimmed then, as the commentators greeted the excited crowd in their magically amplified voices. A big brass band began to play lively music, and the horns, cymbals, and drumbeats echoed throughout the stadium.

"Here we go!" Katie shoved some popcorn into her mouth.

"What a way to kick off the new year, ladies and gentlemen! It's cold and it's damp but we sure hope you're toasty in your seats!" a voice Katie knew to be Noah Winsome's boomed.

"Leave it to the Pride of Portree to be the ever-gracious hosts." proclaimed his long-time co-host, Jimmy Dunifer.

"It's downright freezing today. Apart from trying to play against each other, our players will be in a battle versus the elements: the cold, the snow, the wind! It's lucky for us that the storm hasn't set in, but who knows?"

"Merlin! But special circumstances call for special schedules."

"I agree with you a hundred percent, Jim! Quidditch in the dead of winter? Why the hell not, if we're warm and dry where we sit?"

"I really don't envy these players, mate. Wouldn't want to lose a body part to frostbite," Jimmy laughed with an obnoxious amount of cheer. "But you know what they say, a trial by ice is as good as a trial by fire."

"Who said that?"

"I don't know, Noah, but it sounded good to say. You know what else sounds good? Tonight's toss-up! On our first night of the regular season we've got our fan favorites, Puddlemere United, back and looking for blood. After their loss to the Holyhead Harpies in October, their captain, Sean Flanner, told me that they've done their homework. The Prides better be ready."

"Don't be so sure. The Pride of Portree return this year with their fierce veteran Keeper and Captain, Meaghan McCormack, at the helm. From her friendlies stats it looks as if she's performing better than ever, averaging 71% saves, up from the other year's 66%. Is it possible she's only growing better with age? She looks to be encroaching on young Oliver Wood's stellar numbers!"

"Aye, the lad's outstanding, but let's not forget his unusually sub-par performance at the opener! Still remarkable by Keepers' standards, but he seems to have had some warming up to do!" Noah continued, "But Puddlemere had someone to be proud of in their last game. One Isadora Fairfax!"

"Yes, the lovely Dora. Rose among the thorns, eh? Our English Rose was the last game's highest scorer."

"Against Bruna Geyser, at that. Maybe she was the only one on that Chaser lineup who was impervious to Geyser's charm."

"Yes indeed, but I do think she'll have her work cut out for her tonight. She and all of Puddlemere."

"To be sure. It'll be a race against time - and against the Prides' stellar Seeker, Dougal McBride."

"Fans were glad to learn he decided to stay on another three years after his contract ended in the fall - not for lack of other options, though!"

"Yes, the Pride of Portree would not be the same without him. It's his lightning fast reflexes against Benjy Williams' wiles and keen eye for the Snitch: who's it gonna be?"

A rumble sounded through the stadium and the lights flashed onto the pitch. The crowd got up on their feet as the match emcee bellowed, "LADIES AND GENTLEMAN. ARE YOU READY! GIVE IT UP FOR PUDDLEMERE UUUUUUNITEEEEED! FLANNER! FAIRFAX! DAVIES! WOOD! BORODIN! WISON! AAAAAAAND WILLIAMS!"

Katie and Alicia whooped in their seats as the Boys in Blue shot out of the box below them and flew a lap around the pitch at breakneck speed. Before they took their places by the center of the ring, Oliver glanced at their box. Alicia flailed her arms, while Katie gave a little wave. Oliver spared her a small eyebrow wiggle before turning back around.

"He knows it's you," Alicia poked her.

"He'd better," Katie laughed and resisted the urge to touch her weird new nose again.

"AND NOW! YOUR HOMETOOOOOWN HEROES! GET OFF YOUR SEATS FOR MCCORMACK! BROMLEY! DEAN! MORE! STARLIN! VINTO! AAAAND MCBRIDE!"

The home crowd cheered fiercely and waved purple flags as their team zoomed out from the box opposite them. Katie felt a surge of adrenaline as the captains shook hands and the referee made to release the balls...

"Go! Go! Go!" Flanner bellowed as Portree took first possession.

"AND WE'RE OFF! IT'S BROMLEY WITH THE QUAFFLE," the announcer boomed. "A RACE TO THE GOALS AGAINST PUDDLEMERE!"

"Bollocks," Oliver cursed as he raced the opposing Chasers through the icy wind to the goals. Davies made to block their Center Chaser, Bromley, as Fairfax swiped for the crimson sphere. Her attempt was unsuccessful, but she and Davies bought Oliver enough time to reach the scoring area before the Prides' squad did. Turning his broom sharply, he narrowed his gaze at Bromley, who still held the Quaffle. Leaning low, he quickly assessed their Chaser formation. Bromley was blocked from passing on both sides by Puddlemere, and his flankers, More and Dean, raced ahead to open up and receive a pass. Bromley punted it over Davies' head to More, who attempted to punch it into the rightmost hoop.

"OLIVER WOOD IN THE NICK OF TIME!" bellowed the announcer as Oliver made the save, and quickly inbounded the Quaffle to Flanner. The home crowd booed, but he reveled in the moment, adrenaline coursing through his veins.

Placing a steadying hand on the cool wood of the center hoop, he assessed the pitch. Williams was warming his hands, scoping for the Snitch above the playing zone. Wilson and Borodin, booming with fog-laced laughter, had easily taken control of the Bludgers. He looked for the Prides' Seeker, McBride, and upon spotting him, tried to signal to Neil to get going. Nodding, the Beater made first crack at the Seeker. The fans screamed, and the Bludger whizzed past McBride's head by half a meter. McBride turned to glare at Borodin, who had already gone on to knock elbows with the opposing Beater to go after the free Bludger. It would probably take a few tries, Oliver reasoned, but they were doing the right thing.

Oliver turned his attention back to his Chaser lineup, who were in a scuffle for possession at midfield. One of the Prides had made a grab for the ball, and it was trading hands more quickly than he could see.

"DEAN WITH THE QUAFFLE - NO, MORE'S GOT IT! SWIPED BY FAIRFAX, SNEAKY FOX! SHE'S ROLLING OVER BROMLEY, PASSING OVER TO FLANNER AND SCORE! PUDDLEMERE DRAWS FIRST BLOOD, TEN-NIL!"

"YES!" Oliver pumped his fist jubilantly. He signaled Benjy, who then made a pass around the pitch, with McBride's gaze following him around warily.

The Prides had passed midfield without incident, Oliver noticed with some irritation. Where were Neil and Phil? Hunching over, he looked Bromley straight in the eye as the Chaser made his way to the hoops. He ignored the cold air nipping at his eyeballs. Flanner knocked against Bromley roughly, causing him to counter with an awkward swivel. Seizing the opportunity, Oliver charged forward and stole the Quaffle, turning it over to Flanner at the edge of the scoring zone. Shouting his thanks, Flanner retreated with the rest of the squad.

"SAVED YET AGAIN BY OLIVER WOOD! HE IS TWO FOR TWO TONIGHT AS PUDDLEMERE REGAINS POSSESSION!"

So far so good.

"Alright, Jim, thirty-four minutes into the match and Puddlemere has maintained a consistent lead with nine goals over Pride of Portree's four. What say you about the odds tonight?"

"You and I both know that Puddlemere is favored slightly to win, and they might do just that! The Iron Brothers are struggling to take out McBride, though they've easily dominated possession of both Bludgers. Meaghan McCormack took a nasty hit early in the match as well, care of Phil Wilson, and she seems to have suffered from it. McBride, however..."

"I agree McBride's a tricky one - and we're seeing a much more involved Seeker in today's game! But who knows if he can stay on that broom? Vinto and Starlin, both averse to winter and doing rather poorly both defensively and offensively for the Prides and - BANG! GOAL for Puddlemere! Davies with the ruthless charge - 100-40!"

"Head Coach Nolan rejoicing in their box. Prides' possession. Meaghan McCormack clutching her side - she's definitely hurt."

"Can't afford a break now - Puddlemere has been ruthless on the attack. Though the same can be said for the Prides, Oliver Wood on the other end is just too good!"

"Ever the perfectionist. He is back with a vengeance, ladies and gentlemen! It may just come down to a Snitch catch if the Pride of Portree is going to win tonight. Will McBride find it quick today? Hold on to your seats!"

"Merlin, did you see that!" Katie slapped Alicia's arm repeatedly as a poorly-hit Bludger careened past Oliver's head. In just over an hour of play, Puddlemere was up 140-60. Two of the six goals were due to lucky (or terrible) shots by the Prides' Beaters, and the rest were thanks to some disturbance from the Seeker, Dougal McBride. Regardless of the reason, and regardless of the many other goals he'd saved, Katie knew Oliver couldn't be happy about that.

"Easy, Katie," Alicia winced. "They're doing fine! Look!" They watched as Phil Wilson regained the iron ball and hollered an apology at Oliver, while Isadora Fairfax mercilessly landed an elbow into the side of Vinto, the Beater responsible for the near blow. The man recoiled in pain. "Well, that'll be a foul."

The referee sounded the whistle, and More lined up to take the penalty. Faking left, and then trying for a right, he was unable to fool Oliver, who saved it easily, nostrils flaring and eyes ablaze. The fog from his breath in the cold night air surrounded his jubilant features to intimidating effect.

"Hah! Look at his face," cackled Alicia. "Wood always looks absolutely mad!"

"Hey, it's kind of cute," Katie allowed herself to grin.

"For a centaur, maybe."

The team was having a good night, as Katie predicted they would. By no means were the Pride of Portree a lousy team, but from what she could remember from the friendlies, they really had no new tricks up their sleeves. Oliver would have memorized their plays back and forth, she considered with pride.

Only one thing was new, she noted: she really didn't recall McBride being quite so involved. She had thought he was a detached type of Seeker, but tonight he was making active dives and swipes at the Puddlemere Chasers, getting in Oliver's way, and even colliding with the Beaters, who looked like they were enjoying the extra roughhousing anyway. She consoled herself with the thought that his interference was probably to his own detriment overall, considering he wasn't searching for the Snitch as Williams was. Also, Meaghan McCormack didn't seem to be doing so well -

"OH CRAP!" Alicia screamed. The crowd gasped in reaction as McBride, whom Katie had just been observing, suddenly crashed into Fairfax. The Chaser lost the Quaffle then, which was retrieved by an opportunistic Bromley as Davies and Flanner helped her back up on her broom. Bludgers flew, and missed, and Bromley had a clear shot at all three hoops. Katie held her breath.

"SAVED - YET AGAIN! - BY OLIVER WOOD!" hollered one announcer.

"BY JOVE, HOW DOES HE DO IT!" shouted the other, sounding sincerely dumbstruck. "HE IS ABSOLUTELY UNSTOPPABLE TONIGHT!"

Alicia cheered. "You've got to hand it to Oliver," she shot Katie a sly look. "His playing is rather inspired today. I wonder why."

Katie only rolled her eyes. "Because he works his arse off!" She was confident that her presence had nothing to do with his performance. When it came to Quidditch, Oliver was always prepared. (Though it was nice to think that he might be playing even just a little bit better, just because she was there.)

The game had kicked into high gear, Oliver felt, as the scuffles increased by the possession. He was beating himself up for allowing himself to be caught off-guard: he'd looked up for just a second towards their box, where Katie was watching, and before he realized it, a Bludger had bloody well near decapitated him.

He struggled to keep up with everyone on the pitch, trusting his Beaters to do as they ought (though they hadn't taken out bloody McBride, who was being a pain in the arse), and mildly pressuring Benjy to find that Snitch. Davies had just helped Dora wrench the Quaffle out of Dean's hands by midfield, and the pair had rebounded it to Flanner down below to try for a goal. No good. The Prides regained possession quickly, and then flew directly into the stadium lights so he had to squint to see them. They successfully neared the scoring zone, this time, and right as Bromley made to pass or score, someone flew past Oliver, blocking his way and actually grazing him by a few hairs. McBride. "OI!" he bellowed in frustration as the Quaffle flew into the rightmost hoop.

"DEAN SCORES FOR PORTREE! 170-80, PUDDLEMERE!"

McBride ("Bastard," Oliver thought) sneered at him, and it was all he could do not to whack the ponce with the damn Quaffle. He made to rebound it to Flanner, but in the corner of his eye, he saw Benjy dart towards what he guessed was the Snitch. The crowd, catching on, began to stand and scream, and here McBride wasn't even looking! As soon as McBride turned around and made to dart for the Snitch, Oliver flew after him and, without thinking, threw the Quaffle as hard as he could at the Seeker. He had to stifle a laugh as it hit its target, bouncing off McBride's head in a way he knew couldn't hurt as bad as a Bludger. "Merlin," he muttered, lacing his fingers together and cracking them. "That was satisfying."

The Seeker recoiled from the hit, slowing down considerably and sealing the deal for Benjy to make the easy catch. It felt almost anti-climactic, really.

"AND IT'S WILLIAMS WITH THE SNITCH!" cried the announcer over the crowd's din. "AFTER SOME SNEAKY BALL HANDLING FROM WOOD! PUDDLEMERE WINS, 320-80, AGAINST THE PRIDES AT TWO HOURS, THREE MINUTES!"

"Really, Wood?" chortled Flanner over the audience's screams. "Real mature."

"PUDDLEMERE NOW STANDS 1-1, WHILE THE PRIDES WILL HAVE TO WAIT TO REDEEM THEMSELVES FROM A 0-1 START. THIS HAS BEEN NOAH WINSOME!"

"AND THIS HAS BEEN JIMMY DUNIFER. GOOD NIGHT, LADIES AND GENTLEMEN!"

"It isn't illegal," Oliver shook Flanner's hand, grinning. "We won!"

"Aye, we deserve to celebrate!" They flew towards their celebrating teammates, but were intercepted by a livid Dougal McBride.

"You wanker," he growled at Oliver. "I ought to-"

"Easy, easy, mate," Flanner placed his body in between the two. Oliver assumed a poker face as McBride shoved off and zipped away. "You'll get him next time!" Flanner laughed after the Seeker's retreating figure.

"Hey!" Oliver huffed.

"Serves you right for being a ponce," the Captain snickered, waving to some fans as the crowd stood up to leave. "Benj would have caught it anyway. Wave, Wood!"

"I was the ponce? McBride was flying like a right git!" Oliver raised his right arm, swinging it around carelessly. "Here I used to think he was decent."

"Smile for the girls, mate," Flanner ignored Oliver's gripe. "There we go. All the same, you're taking care of the press conference today, Mr. Wonderful. I have a fiancée to Floo-call."

Oliver let his eyes roam towards Puddlemere's spectator' box, where two slender figures stood and waited while the rest left. "I do feel pretty wonderful," he murmured to no one in particular.

"Great game," Alicia said. "Well, maybe the Prides didn't do so well, but only because Ol was fantastic! And I'll have plenty to write in time for tomorrow's paper," she whispered the last bit giddily. "I can't wait!"

"That's great, Leesh," Katie said. "Wanna attend the press con? It'll take maybe ten minutes."

"Sure. I'll go home right after, though. You have plans?"

"Yeah," Katie blushed beneath her glamour. "Guess I'll just congratulate Oliver, have a pint maybe, if he's up for it."

"Sure," Alicia grinned. By now they were outdoors, making their way past the throng and over to a more spacious area in the open field. Set up in the front of the building was the panel table, with PR people blasting sparks that read "PRESS CONFERENCE" and "FIVE MINUTES".

"Let's move closer," Alicia said. "I want to ask a couple of questions."

Katie agreed to follow her lead, but as they gave the crowd of fans and journalists a wide berth, she heard a loud HOOT! and felt something drop on her head. Next thing she knew, she felt a tug at her navel and saw a horrified expression on Alicia's face that probably matched her own. She faded out with a scream.

Puzzled and out of breath, Katie sat outside Lara Svityensky's office, trying to comprehend why and how she'd been unexpectedly whisked away to Holyhead, tackled by Martha the Security Witch, and then finally carted off to the Office of the General Manager. All, she marveled, in the span of maybe ten minutes. Groaning, she tried yanking her fake nose off, but the glamour held. Without her wand nor someone to help her remove it nearby, it was no use. "Ow, shit."

The door opened, and Clips stepped out and gave her a once-over. Curtly, she said, "Ms. Svityensky will see you now."

"Thanks, Amy," Katie mumbled. She stepped inside and found Lara and Coach King muttering feverishly to each other. "Uh, hi, Lara," Katie waved. "Long time no see?"

The pair whirled around to face her. "Who the bloody - Bell!" snapped Coach King in recognition.

"Sorry, it's just a glamour -" Katie began to explain.

"KATHERINE BELL." Lara looked absolutely crazed. "SIT. DOWN."

She had no choice but to obey, but she was still very much perplexed. "Is something the matter?"

"Where were you?" Lara said, struggling to level her voice. "Don't you know I was worried sick!"

"Oh! Er, I was just out, watching a game. Puddlemere United against the Pride of Portree? Nothing to worry about!"

"And just when did you plan on informing us that you were going to watch the bloody Prides?" Coach King growled.

"Whoa," Katie said, feeling affronted. "I'm sorry if you're upset. I was not aware that I wasn't allowed to watch our opponents' games in my free time."

"If it involves fraternizing with our opponents, then yes, it bloody well is -"

"It's not prohibited, Katie," Lara cut Coach King's rant short. "But right now I need to know what was running through your mind when you went out without security to watch this match."

Katie frowned. "Nothing was running through my mind. I just wanted to watch the game with a friend. No big deal. If it makes you feel better, I wore this glamour." She pointed at her face. "I can't even take the damn thing off because Martha took my wand!" Lara waved hers, and Katie felt relieved of the obstruction on her face. "Thanks," she mumbled, rubbing her real nose. "If you didn't know where I was, how did you find me?"

"Tracking owl, trained to drop Portkeys on its targets. You do know we have the right to trace players' and staff's wands in case anyone goes AWOL?"

"What?" Katie gaped.

"Did you not read your contract?" Coach King huffed. "You did a bloody dumb thing tonight, Bell."

Now Katie was beginning to feel the stirrings of irritation. "What did I do? Was I the only one out? I haven't even seen Lara for weeks, and tonight you needed me in? I'm sorry. With all due respect, Coach, I don't even know why you've summoned me here." Katie resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "My friends will be worried about me."

"I apologize as well, Katie. I've just returned from London on some urgent business, and all your teammates' whereabouts had been accounted for, except you." Lara informed her.

"Why did you need to find me?"

"I'm sorry but I cannot divulge the reason at present. Who were you with? At the game?"

Katie shrugged, "Alicia Spinnet, one of my best friends from school."

"Who else? You said 'friends'."

"I was only watching with her," Katie grit out. "We were..." she sighed, before admitting, "Supporting Puddlemere. They won, by the way."

"Did they invite you there?" Lara pressed.

"Puddlemere? No, a friend gave us tickets."

"Who?"

"Wood?" drawled Coach King with derision.

Katie prickled defensively. "He's my friend." Coach King snorted.

"Did anyone speak to you? Deverill, their manager?"

"What? Why?"

"Katie!" Lara pinched the bridge of her nose and placed a hand on her hip. "Just answer the question. Please."

Katie fought down strong feelings of suspicion and exasperation. "No, I've never met their manager. Well, we saw him, but I don't think he'd have recognized me, anyway, thanks to the glamour."

Relief flooded Lara's features. "Oh. That's good, Katie. Very good."

Katie looked from the manager over to Coach King, who was now inspecting her nails in a bored fashion. "Okay. Now may I ask why you're asking?"

Lara shook her head. "It's nothing you need to worry about right now."

"But -"

"I said it's nothing. Katie. Darling. I need you to go back to your lodgings."

Katie stood up. "Lara, you'd let us know if there was something going on, right?"

Coach King shot a loaded glance at Lara, who merely replied, "We're working on it, Katie. But for now I need you to be very careful when talking to people in the business, and when going out. I will not have you leaving here without Security. I promise to call a team meeting soon. Happy, Belinda?" she addressed Coach King.

The coach scoffed softly, before telling Katie, "Beat it, Rookie, before I give you hell tomorrow. You've got practice at 5 am. You shouldn't even be up at this hour."

Katie knew sticking around wouldn't be of any use, so she just nodded and stepped out, shutting the door behind her. Clips was nowhere in sight, but a wand - Katie's wand - sat on the secretary's desk with an all-clear note from Security. Taking it, she made to leave, but then she heard muffled voices arguing anew from behind Lara's door. Heart racing, she felt around her pockets for the Extendable Ears she'd taken from Alicia. "Yes!" Feelings of mild hypocrisy and paranoia rushed through her, but she didn't dwell too much on that. Sticking the hearing device into her own ear, she hurriedly cast a Disillusionment Charm on herself and snuck back towards Lara's door.

"Don't be obtuse," came Coach King's drawl. "If you don't let me and my players know everything that's going on, then I'm going to tell them whatever I know anyway! Let them make of it what they will!"

"Belinda, you don't understand. I don't know where these threats are coming from, but it's two-pronged. If we can't pay these... these extortionists the sum they're asking for, they're going to destroy our lineup and our franchise as we know it! I don't know who they are, I don't know how they'll do it, I don't know why -"

"That's exactly why we need to tell them. Did you see how confused the rookie was? This is their safety and freedom at stake. They deserve to know that somebody is making threats against us and them. What if one of them gets harmed?"

"I'm doing my best! As are other managers and owners. Similar demands have been made of a few other franchises, you know, and we've just alerted the Ministry."

"What kind of demands?"

Lara took a shaky breath. "Pay ransom or our girls will be harmed. Trade if we cannot pay. And if we do neither," her voice quavered, "Our players will be taken by force."

"What?" Coach King sounded incredulous. "And just what is bloody Ministry to do? Lara, they're busy rounding up Death Eaters. Unless you're saying..."

When Lara didn't reply, Katie's eyes widened. It couldn't be! "Death Eaters?"

"But," Coach King faltered. "The war -"

"You-Know-Who might be gone but that doesn't mean all his supporters have dispersed."

"You can't be serious. It could just be some internal saboteur."

"What I'm saying is that we aren't sure. Internally there's always been some dirty politics, but nothing to this extent. And it's all so fresh -"

"Why would these people even try? Why us?"

"I don't know. But I've been in commissioners' meetings with franchise owners and managers, and nobody in their right mind would demand this sort of ransom. What motives could they have?"

"Victory? Cash?"

"It's too small a goal for so large a demand. The Aurors themselves suggested it might be... you know. Those sort. They've got the funds of all affluent Purebloods sympathetic to You-Know-Who's cause on lockdown, so the remaining supporters might need to funnel money from somewhere."

"Merlin's saggy bollocks. You've got to tell the girls, Lara. Or I will."

"Give it some time. We could lose them. Belinda, we could lose our team. If not to these extortionists, then to other teams willing to make better offers for them!"

"Can we not pay?" Coach King had raised her voice. "We need to protect them!"

"And I agree! But we're also a business! Our pockets aren't infinite, you know. And I won't have people making better offers to my players that we can't match! I'm afraid of that, too. The damn bats, for instance, and the Tornados, have heaps of money."

"Who's to say it's not a scam? You haven't even bloody spoken to Whyte or Birch or any of those poncey owners -"

"Oh, yes I have!" retorted Lara.

"Is that so? Well if you've spoken to them and not found incontrovertible proof that any of them is our mystery extortionist, then clearly the problem is greater than rich bastards trying to pirate our players. Which, may I remind you, has never happened."

"Never say never," Lara muttered darkly. "Someone is actively trying to disrupt the delicate balance we've all just grown into. And our players would be up for grabs if we can't... Oh, Belinda, it's too much."

"But who do they want? The extortionists?"

Lara hesitated. "Jones. Griffiths. Grant. Bell," she mumbled miserably.

Katie gasped, and accidentally let go of her wand. It dropped to the ground with a clatter. "Fuck!"

"What was that?" Coach King growled. Katie grabbed her wand and ran as silently as she could behind the trophy case in a dark corner and prayed to whatever gods there were that she wouldn't be discovered. She held her breath as Coach King swung the door open.

"Probably some house elves," tittered Lara nervously. "Belinda, your nerves are shot. You'd better get some rest. The girls aren't the only ones who need to be up early tomorrow."

Coach King cast a suspicious glance in Katie's direction before sighing, "Alright. You, too. You look like you haven't slept in days." She departed, and Lara retreated back into her office.

Katie released her breath, and looked about her for a quick escape plan. Spotting a window, she climbed out of it, and quickly Apparated into her bungalow. In less a minute upon her arrival, she heard another POP! of Apparition and a swift rap on her front door. Trying her best to appear composed, she answered it, already knowing who would be standing there. "Coach?" she greeted in what she hoped would be a surprised but casual tone. "Er, did you forget to tell me something?"

Coach King squinted as if she were trying to bore holes into her skull. "You take care of yourself, Rookie," she said brusquely, and marched away.

Shutting her door behind her in relief, she took a moment to let everything sink in. An extortionist... teams... names. Who could she tell abut what she'd learned? Would Oliver be affected? What about his team? Flanner? She had to tell them. She had to warn them! And Bruna and the girls! But she hadn't even found out what was at stake. Alicia had been right, but not completely.

Alicia! Katie slapped her head. She was probably worried sick. They'd just moved round the crowd when the tracking bird had dropped the Portkey on her, and she hadn't had the chance to explain what had happened. She did not know where Alicia was, so she summoned her most vivid happy memory - winning the House Cup with her friends - and shot it out to Alicia with the message that she was alright. Her Patronus, taking the form of a silver puffin, shot out of her wand and through the night, and Katie hoped it would arrive intact.

Now she had to find a way to explain to Oliver where she'd gone. She was supposed to meet him after the game, and congratulate him on what had been a stellar performance in an equally convincing first win over the Prides.

Would he be looking for her? Had Alicia told him what had happened? Was that even possible?

Her first instinct was to check their journal for any sign of direct contact. There was nothing in there. She penned him a quick note to let him know she was alright. Next she tried Floo-calling him, but he wasn't home. She couldn't risk sending him another Patronus, lest the one she'd sent Alicia dissipate before it reached its destination. How did Patronus magic work, anyway? Katie didn't know. Harry didn't teach them that in their DA sessions. She checked Gwenog's cage, but Bootsy had let her owl out to hunt for the evening.

"This is crazy," Katie groaned. Out of options, she glanced at her clock. Nearly midnight. She nearly smacked herself when she remembered that they had agreed to meet at midnight in Oliver's apartment if they got separated, anyway. She gripped her wand, hesitating only as bits of Lara and Coach King's sermon and argument seeped into her mind. Still, she felt a greater need to see Oliver, and unload on him what she'd just learned. Making her decision, she Apparated away.

She landed in the familiar Puddlemere alleyway, bending her knees to absorbing the shock and minimize the noise. It was empty, so the team probably hadn't returned yet. She walked across the threshold of the alley and onto the main road. But in that same split second, she gasped loudly as she felt herself wrenched away into nothingness for the second time that night, and barely had time to panick when she realized body had reappeared right at the perimeter, but launched high up, twenty feet in the air. Before she knew it she was falling, falling...

All was black.

A/N: I always love writing the sweet bits between Katie and Oliver, but we can't fill our story with that now, can we? We're just getting started on all the action! If you liked this, please review :) Do Google Theo James and tell me what you think. Because when I saw him I kind of just lost all capacity for thought.