An Especially Bad Day

Chapter 1

Katie glanced down at her watch for the third time that evening and sighed. She'd taken a job at 'Le Club Noire' over the summer with her friend Angelina, not knowing what else to do with her first few months out of school, and if she was being honest with herself, for the welcome paycheque. It was the kind of club that screamed 'elite'. The main room was made up largely of a massive dance floor lit from beneath and the ceiling was hung with all the latest lighting and a special dry ice style mist that hissed out in waves over the crowd. Around three sides of the room the walls had been dotted with private booths for VIP members and along the last ran a dark polished bar, the same one Katie had been working behind for six weeks.

She shot a look down the bar at Ange who was serving a group of men in well tailored suits. Her friend returned the look with a smug one of her own. Katie laughed. Ange had to be the biggest flirt on the planet, second only to her boyfriend of three years Fred Weasley. She supposed it made sense that the two would find each other eventually, although she hadn't expected it to be after a particularly vicious Quidditch game in sixth year.

Her next customer cleared her throat loudly and Katie found herself groaning at the familiar face of her other best friend Alicia Spinnet. She was in a silver spangly top to contrast with her dark hair and a skirt that was short enough to be considered a safety hazard to all men in the room. Realising she'd caught Katie's eye she tapped the delicate silver watch on her wrist expectantly.

'What time do you call this?'

'Five to eleven.'

'You can't get off five minutes early?' Alicia's eyes widened in a practised pleading expression.

'No.'

'Come on Kates, our song's about to play and we are not going to miss it.'

'No.'

Katie rolled her eyes as Ali clasped her hands together and mimed begging.

'Fine.'

Her friend gave her a small smile and tugged her around the end of the bar. 'So where are your spare clothes?'

'For work?'

'Yes, your 'work' happens to be behind the bar of an exclusive club!' She sighed. 'Never mind, you look fine.'

She had to admit it was true. Even in a plain black top and skinny jeans Katie looked fantastic. Her wide blue eyes were framed by sooty lashes and a mass of loose gold-blonde curls tumbling down her back.

Katie laughed and allowed herself to be dragged onto the floor. Like Alicia had predicted she could hear the opening lines of '24K Magic', an inside joke for the pair, as they reached an empty spot near the centre of the dancers and exchanged a sly smile. The practiced grace of flying translated pretty well on the floor and it had become customary for them to spend at least two hours enjoying themselves after Katie's shift finished. The crowd began to thin out as regulars recognised who had joined them. Ali's smile widened and they began to dance.

...

Marcus Flint was not having a good day. They'd lost. Worse than that they'd lost badly. Worse still they'd lost badly to Puddlemere United. He slammed a fist into his locker ignoring the bruise that was more than likely to form across his knuckles.

'I'd quit that. You need your hand for next week.'

He turned and saw Pucey following him into the changing room. He slammed his fist into the locker again to show just what he thought of his team mate's suggestions.

'Fine, don't say I didn't mention it.'

A silence descended between the two as Pucey moved over to his own locker and started to strip out of his mud soaked Quidditch gear. The other man looked down at his own filthy robes and followed suit.

'Wood was on fire today.'

There was a low growl from somewhere within the bundle of material half way over Flint's head.

'I'm just saying. The guy looked hype. I don't think we could have done much more.'

Marcus had to agree with that. The Scottish git had been in his element, ducking and lunging between the three hoops. It was probably just the rush of playing his first professional match. No doubt the rush of celebrating would hit him even harder he thought bitterly as he tugged on a pair of dark slacks.

'Some of the guys are heading out for a drink at the club, see if we can pick up a few groupies for the night. Interested?'

Flint grunted non-commitedly.

'It's that or go home to an empty bed and relive the worst few hours of your life in a load of Prophet headlines…'

At this Pucey saw his friend straighten up and reach for his black button down, considering the idea with a more open mind.

'And drinks are on me...'

Marcus turned, his shirt done up with the exception of the top two buttons, and gave his friend a rogue smile. 'Which club?'