A/N: So this is sort of like the REAL introduction to the story. I've decided to take a few liberties with regard to what Katie's been busy with since her Hogwarts days… You guys decide if you like it x

Chapter 1 – Offers

From the Desk of Lara Svityensky

General Manager

The Holyhead Harpies

Dear Ms. Katherine Bell,

Greetings! This letter may come as a surprise to you – then again it may not. My name is Lara, and I am the Manager of the Holyhead Harpies professional Quidditch team. You may recall that professional Quidditch teams annually sent scouts to attend your games at Hogwarts, and scoop up the best and the brightest to join them. (I believe that previously, Puddlemere United acquired two young men you may personally know – Roger Davies and Oliver Wood.) A scout of ours happened to be in the stands during your last match prior to your hospitalization in 1996. According to her, your style of playing and even your performance in previous years embody what we, the Holyhead Harpies, are all about. She told me I'd be a fool not to sign you as a reserve immediately. Many things have happened since then: your accident, of course; and the War, which of course momentarily stopped the Quidditch season. We are not without casualties: our valued Chaser, Joan Gafton, did not see the War's end. I shall not dwell on that, however. Seeing as it's all over, the Harpies are ready to start anew. It is my great pleasure to offer you a spot on our team as our Center Chaser.

Many factors contribute to this decision of ours. However, I am not at liberty to divulge these details in this letter. I know for a fact that you have begun a career in the Muggle world, wearing their clothing and the like. I also have reason to believe that you may receive at least one other offer to play for another team, so I would like to speak with you in person regarding ours. I believe you would find our offer very attractive – we at Holyhead, more than any other team in the world, understand the needs of prime female athletes. Should you be interested, send back a note stating your availability to meet. My owl, Mercury, shall await your response.

All the best,

Lara Svityensky

From her parents' home in Muggle London, Katie quickly scanned the letter. She went through it again, disbelieving. Then she read it around six more times, just for good measure. It was only when Mercury, the screech owl that had delivered the message, pecked gently at her hand that she realized that it was not a dream: her favorite team, the Holyhead Harpies, were offering her a spot on their team. "And another team may be offering me a spot, too! Not that I'd care."

Katie was rightfully surprised – after her accident with the cursed necklace as well as the War against the Dark Forces, Quidditch as a career seemed out of the question. She and her family had been laying low in the Muggle world. Actually, the term "laying low" is not so accurate: her parents, both half bloods, still worked their Wizarding jobs. On the other hand, Katie was making a name for herself, modeling in Muggle magazines and shows. Yes, awkward Katie Bell had unexpectedly become a model. It was a happy accident that sprung from the Bells' decision to relocate to Muggle London in the wake of Katie's near-death experience.

Katie's fledgling modeling career began when she was out buying ice cream with her mother, Gladys. A rather flamboyant man had approached them as they crossed the street together. The pair, being well adjusted to Muggle society, recognized that he was very well dressed – at least, too well dressed to be straight. Their suspicions were confirmed as soon as he drawled out, "Oh, my Gucci. You have the most gorge legs!"

"Excuse me?" Mrs. Bell asked incredulously. "That's my nineteen-year-old daughter you're speaking to! And who on earth is Goo-chee!"

"Oh, I'm so sorry! Where are my manners? I haven't even introduced myself. My name is Raul Guido. You can call me Miss Raul. I'm a talent scout for Elite, which is among the top modeling agencies in London, and Europe. Have you heard of it?"

Silence.

"Well, that's fine, that's fine," he brushed off the awkward atmosphere, turning on his winning smile. "Anyway, madam, I saw your lovely daughter from across the street, and of course these fabulous legs! I just had to come over and chat with her over a career in modeling."

Indeed, Katie had been wearing a relatively attention-grabbing outfit. In an airy tunic and short denim cutoffs, all 5 feet and 9 inches of her looked even longer. It helped quite a bit that she was still in fairly good shape from years of playing Quidditch.

"Modeling?" Katie raised her eyebrows.

"But she's so young!" exclaimed her mother.

"Yes," replied the scout enthusiastically. "We usually sign models – many younger than nineteen, mind you – with unique characteristics. You, my darling, have legs for miles. And that hair! So thick! And you have such wide, expressive eyes! Like an impala's!"

"Well, thanks, I guess," Katie blushed. She did have something of a growth spurt…

Raul wasn't done. "Well don't be so surprised! I can spot good genes from a mile away. And you're just magic," his eyes twinkled, "waiting to happen. If you're interested in knowing, we send our models to pose for different fashion shoots. These may be for editorial or commercial work to be printed on magazines and the like. We also send them to walk in runway shows. It's a very exciting job, really, and the pay's quite good even if you just do it part time. What's your name again, sweetie? Katie, yes?"

"Oh! Um, it's Katie, Katie Bell. And this is my mother, Gladys," Katie stammered, although she did not recall previously telling him her name. Yes, she was pretty sure she hadn't. She frowned.

"It's very nice to meet you both," Raul said, shaking their hands. "Anyway, should you be interested, here's my card. Just give me a ring. Or, you know," he winked. "Send me an owl and we can work something out! I must get going. I hope to hear from you!"

With that, Raul turned around and nearly skipped away, disappearing amongst the throng of commuters.

"Well," chuckled Gladys Bell.

"Think that was for real?" grinned Katie, shaking her head.

"You lucky cow," suddenly breathed a Muggle girl from beside them, causing them to jump. "Don't you have any idea who that was?"

"I'm afraid not," replied Katie honestly. "Should I have recognized him?"

The girl, who appeared quite the fashionista, widened her eyes in shock, her perfectly painted lips forming the shape of a derisive "O". "That was Raul-fricking-Guido! Everyone knows that he's like, THE ticket into the fashion industry. He spots you and you're, like, in. He's super elusive, though. You'd be, like, a total retard not to take his offer," she sniffed bitterly, and after giving Katie a once over, she stomped away in her chunky platform heels.

Katie and her mother looked at each other for a good few seconds before bursting into laughter.

"Me, a model?" snorted Katie.

"Raul Guido better know what he's gotten himself into! I was flattered enough that he thought my daughter might possess an ounce of grace."

"Gee, thanks, Mum. And it's Miss Raul. How do you reckon he knew we were witches?"

"Now that I think about it, the real question is how Muggles can't tell he's not a Muggle! Did you see that suit!"

"I think his outfit passes for gay standards, Mum."

"I suppose you're right."

And the rest, as they say, was history. Katie signed on with Miss Raul as a part-time model, and in turn, she was booked for several editorial shoots and fashion shows. While she was by no means the most prominent model in the bunch, she'd gained enough attention to be recognized by fashion fanatics in a matter of a few short months. It was definitely convenient that Raul was a wizard too – he understood that she had quite some adjusting to do. He made her work out hard so she'd fit into her high-fashion costumes, which Katie didn't mind, as long as she got to eat as much as she wanted. (Which she did.) His gamble on her paid off big time: Katie Bell – athletic, quirky, playful, and just the right amount of mysterious (to Muggles, at least) – was the quintessential girl next door. Women absolutely loved her, and straight men regarded her with much curiosity.

Back to the current situation, however, Katie was prepared to drop it all – modeling, the pretty hairdos and makeup ("Blech!"), a decent amount of Muggle fame, and freebies – and jump right back into her first love, Quidditch. It was more than just Quidditch: she'd really missed magic, as well as her friends back in the Wizarding World. Her schedule just didn't allow for very frequent visits. It was settled; she was going to do it.

Mercury gave a loud hoot, watching Katie curiously.

Without wasting another moment, Katie raced to her desk in search of a piece of parchment and a quill.

"Sorry, sorry, sorry," she rummaged through her drawer. Mercury hooted complacently. It was as if she understood how important the letter she'd delivered was.

"How on earth do I even start this?" Katie frantically tested her quills on scratch pieces of parchment. She asked the owl, "Do I just… give a date? Should I think about it first?"

Mercury did not respond. Perhaps she was pretending not to hear.

"Fine." Katie took a deep breath. Grabbing the most decent quill she owned, she penned,

Dear Ms. Svityensky,

Words cannot describe how ecstatic and excited I was to receive your letter. I wasn't expecting it at all!

Katie promptly crumpled the parchment. "Be cool," she breathed frantically. Heart beating fast, she took another sheet and scribbled,

Dear Ms. Svityensky,

Yes, I'm free pretty much whenever. When I'm not working part-time I just bum at my parents' place –

"What's wrong with me!" she grunted, "She'll think I'm some unprofessional bum – well, I am a bum… Crap." Tearing up the parchment, she nervously considered what she ought to write. Finally she penned,

Dear Ms. Svityensky,

Thank you for your letter. I've always been a huge fan of the Harpies, and I am honored that you would even consider taking me in to play for your team. I would love to meet you this week. Any day you can accommodate me will do, please just owl me your date and place of preference.

Sincerely,

Katie Bell

Before she could change her fickle mind, Katie secured the letter to Mercury's leg. Giving the owl a treat, she sent her off.

Katie plopped herself on her mattress and took a breath. "I'm going to be a professional Quidditch player." She got off her bed and screamed out loud, "I'M GOING TO BE A PROFESSIONAL QUIDDITCH PLAYER! MUM!"

She ran downstairs to her mother, who was in the kitchen preparing tea. "Mum! Mum! Guess who just wrote me!"

Her mother asked calmly, "Is it another go-see? A campaign, maybe?"

"No, this is way better. It has to do with Quidditch!"

"Oh! Is it that boy, Oliver? The handsome one? Isn't he the professional –"

"No, not Oliver," Katie blushed fiercely. "The Holyhead Harpies! They want me on their team!"

"Oh," repeated Mrs. Bell, disappointment evident in her voice.

Katie's face fell. "Aren't you proud of me? Mum, this is big!"

"Yes, of course, dear. I had just hoped you would finally go out on a date. What about that dangerous game? Queer-ditch?"

"Mum. They haven't called it that since like, the Middle Ages. It's Quidditch! And no, I am not going out on a date. Please, Mum, you can't rush these things!"

"That's all very good Katherine, but I can't help it! I married your father when I was your age, and I had you just a year after! I never had to work a day in my life, and my baby is telling me that she's going off to play a dangerous game for a living? Didn't you say that modeling was fun? Also, you said there were lots of free clothes! And cute male models! Maybe you should consider asking one of them out, if not that Oliver boy."

Katie rolled her eyes. For a witch of the hippie generation, her mother could be so stuck in the fifties sometimes. Katie had just told her the biggest news of her possible new career and her mother was worried about her not having a boyfriend?

"Mum. Times have changed. I don't have to wear those ridiculous heels all the time anymore. Girls have every right to play hard and earn their own money. And play against boys. Heck, girls have been playing Quidditch since ever, so it's not even an issue! And Quidditch isn't so bad when you've got wizard medicine on your side – Pop would understand. Maybe we can talk about it again later."

"I don't know, I just don't know. Even with magic, you took a good month and a half to fully recover from that curse… You're just lucky to be alive! I still get nervous about it." Mrs. Bell sipped her tea apprehensively.

"Aw, Mum, nothing could happen to me that would turn out as bad as that curse," Katie consoled her mother.

"You can't even go to the loo alone!"

"I wouldn't let that happen again, Mum. No more talking to strangers and no more touching sketchy things."

"Alright, sweetheart. Now, do try to get in touch with that lovely Oliver boy, will you?"

Katie narrowed her eyes at her. "That lovely Oliver boy, indeed," she thought.

Her mother had developed a very obvious crush on Oliver back when he'd been visiting at St. Mungo's, which no one asked him to do. It was sweet. Her mother? Not so much. She'd slip Oliver's name into conversations most unexpectedly, but Katie should have seen this one coming.

"I'm not saying you should ask him out," Mrs. Bell tittered, "Just that if he plays Quiddy, too, he could give you some advice!"

Katie considered it. "Mum, that's not a bad idea." She turned to walk back up the stairs.

"You're welcome, Katherine."

"And you totally know it's Quidditch."

"Yes of course, darling."

Oliver Wood stepped out of the shower and toweled himself off quickly. His teammates had already gone home, each one exhausted to the bone. After all, practice had become increasingly brutal over the past few weeks. Perhaps it was because prior to the demise of Voldemort (which Oliver had the privilege of witnessing), all of Quidditch in Great Britain and Ireland had been put on hold for an entire season. Hence, every coach, player, and mascot in the league had been forced into idleness for the duration of what came to be known as the Great Quidditch Drought. Most of the players chose to go into hiding, and simply wait it out. Some individuals showed their true colors, joining the Dark Forces and causing devastation to their teams and their fans. Others, such as Oliver, went underground to aid the cause of Dumbledore's Army. Oliver willingly threw himself into the cause for several reasons, all somehow related to Quidditch:

First, because the announcement of the Quidditch Drought devastated him exceedingly; second, because he (quite melodramatically) felt that without Quidditch, life may not be worth living; third, because he felt Voldemort was truly vile for causing the cancellation of Quidditch, and thus deserved to perish; and fourth, because many of his dear teammates, friends and schoolmates were involved in the mission to defeat Voldemort, and he wasn't going to be sitting pretty while they were all in harm's way.

No, that was the last thing he wanted. The year he'd made starting Keeper on Puddlemere was the same one that Katie Bell, his best friend and former Chaser, had been given a cursed necklace. Puddlemere's previous Keeper had resigned concurrent to this, so that meant that Oliver had to put in extra hours of practice to adjust from reserve status to first string. When he discovered that Katie was in St. Mungo's, however, he'd made it a point to stop by often after practice, and even resorted to flirting very awkwardly with the healers just to be allowed into Katie's hospital room past visiting hours. He'd been there when Katie woke up, and visited almost daily until she was discharged from the hospital. Since then they'd corresponded occasionally when big things would come up. They had by no means rekindled the brief romantic spark they shared at Hogwarts; times were much too hectic and dangerous for that. They hadn't even seen each other since Fred's funeral. It seemed their friends just needed time to recover, as did they.

Still, before this, Katie was the first to know when he'd been awarded Rookie of the Year and Most Valuable Keeper in his first year as a starter. He'd also received important news regarding Dumbledore's Army firsthand from her. Later, she'd written to him about her modeling job in the Muggle world, although being a pureblooded wizard he understood little of what she was talking about.

At present, Oliver was happy that he and most of his friends got out of everything safe and alive. Voldemort was dead, Quidditch was back on, and training across all the teams in the league was in full swing to get their players back into top condition. The Quidditch Cup was in two months' time, and every bone in Oliver's body relished the ache that came from hours of playing Quidditch. He was a hundred and ten percent focused on getting back into shape and winning the Cup that narrowly eluded Puddlemere in the season previous.

Oliver finished getting dressed when he heard a familiar-sounding hoot. Stepping outside the locker room, he quickly spotted a heather grey barn owl staring at him inquisitively.

"Gwenog!" he cried with delight. He recognized the owl as Katie's (named, of course, after her favorite Quidditch icon, Gwenog Jones). "What have you got for me?"

Oliver untied the letter from Gwenog's leg and pored over its contents.

Dear Ollie,

Three guesses as to what this letter's about. If you guessed that it has to do with me getting a job, then you're correct. If you guessed that it has to do with eating dinner, you're also correct. If you were hoping that it had something to do with Quidditch (which I bet you were), then you're in luck, because that would also be the case.

Confused? Give up? Well, here it is… I'M GONNA BE A PRO QUIDDITCH PLAYER!

Yup, the general manager of the Harpies (THE HARPIES!) wrote me just this morning to ask me to come in to discuss the conditions of my… employment? Is that how you'd describe it? I'm gonna be playing with Gwenog Jones! THE GWENOG JONES! Explaining my owl's name may be awkward, though. Anyway the manager even said that another team wanted to pick me up, but I totally wouldn't care. I'm not passing up this chance to play with the Harpies to play for another team. Well, except maybe Puddlemere ;) I mean, Davies is there, that's never not a good thing.

Oliver frowned at the sentence. Roger Davies made a good teammate, he'd admit that much. But he'd always known that Davies had a small thing for Katie, and that made him… mad? Jealous? "Uncomfortable," Oliver snarled. He continued reading.

Oh, and then there's you.

"Much better," Oliver smiled, chuffed.

Anyway, celebrate with me! Actually, I may just be using you to get tips for my interview. My current Muggle activities don't leave me fit to answer any questions about Quidditch… I have so much to share. Let's have dinner over at the Swinging Cheshire tomorrow? My treat! What do you say?

Owl me,

KT (Get it? K, that was lame.)

P.S. Mum says hello.

Oliver grinned at the invitation, and walked over, Gwenog in tow, to his coach's office. "Hey Coach, mind if I come in?"

Coach Charles Nolan, a tough Englishman, looked up from his paperwork to see his Keeper standing in the doorway.

"Wood," he grunted in acknowledgement, "Yeh, come in. New pet?"

"This is Gwenog," Oliver chuckled. "She belongs to who may soon be the Harpies' new Chaser."

"Gwenog, good choice," nodded the coach. "The owl must belong to a real, die-hard fan then. You know her?"

"Yeah, she's a good friend of mine."

Oliver received a grunt in response.

"Say uh, Coach, are we picking up new reserves this season?"

"None that I know," replied Coach Nolan. "We're a full ark, if yeh know what I mean. An' that's a good thing. Davies is the only reserve moving to first string."

"Well… You reckon I could flich a piece of parchment and a quill?"

Coach Nolan handed Oliver the materials he requested, and the Keeper scribbled his note.

Dear Kates,

Congratulations! I had a feeling this would happen! You couldn't possibly have stuck with that odd Muggle job of yours for long. Still, tell me everything tomorrow. Count on it, fancy girl, I'll meet you at the Swinging Cheshire at seven.

Looking forward to seeing you (it's really been a while!),

Oliver

P.S. You? In Puddlemere with me? I don't think you could handle it. Just kidding.

P.P.S. Hello to your Mum as well!

Oliver chuckled to himself, attached his note to Gwenog, and watched her fly off. Coach Nolan observed his normally astute Keeper, disconcerted at his odd behavior. Wood was never this cheery around the team – normally he was the most focused, the most driven out of all the lads on the squad. "If you're quite done there," he warily told the Keeper, "Get that goofy grin off yer face. And get yer arse out o' my office."

Oliver jumped. "Sorry, Coach," he said good-naturedly. "Er, I'll be going now."

As he hopped out of the office, the coach hollered, "Wood! League's in a couple months. The looka that grin o' yers, I've never seen it on ya. Ya better keep yer distractions in check."

Oliver just kept walking, and hollered back, "I'll see you tomorrow, Coach, bright and early!"

A/N: I hope you enjoyed that! What do you think of my awkward model Katie? Don't worry, I promise it won't eat up too much of the story at all. Leave me a review and let me know what you think :)