Author's note: This story began life as a Marcus Flint and Katie Bell romance but Draco and Ginny refused to be left out of the action. The archive Mummy has deemed there to be sufficient Draco and Ginny goodness to not only keep her entertained but also be eligible for the archive.
STANDARD DISCLAIMER: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
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Angelina Weasley looked over the desk at the irate manager of the English Quidditch team and sighed. “Look it’s not my fault. This wasn’t a deliberate act. You know how much I want to play but face facts Martin, by the time the finals roll around there won’t be a broom strong enough to get me off the ground.”
“Not deliberate? You’re a witch Angelina. I’m pretty sure you are up to a simple contraceptive charm!”
“I’m also married to a Weasley.” Angelina grinned, “There isn’t a spell strong enough to protect a girl against that level of fertility.”
Martin choked slightly at that.
“I have always wanted to represent my country, always wanted to win the World Cup, but I am willing to step aside now and give you time to find a replacement rather than continue playing and make things even more difficult later on.”
Martin rested his head in his hands with a groan. “Even replacing you now is going to be a nightmare. I have finally got the Chaser line up working together and not trying to kill each other. You may not like it Angelina, but your style compliments Marcus’s very well. It would mean changing our entire strategy to bring in a new player now.”
Angelina smirked at him in response. “I have a couple of thoughts on that – what if I told you there was another Chaser who had the same style as me, has been playing professionally for as long as I have, and is eligible to represent England?”
Martin fixed his gaze on her. “You better not be playing with an old man Weasley. Who is he?”
“He’s a she you sexist git. She’s playing tomorrow in Vancouver. You can see how she is in person.”
“Do I get a name for this unknown Quidditch life saver?”
“Katherine – Katie – Bell.”
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Katie Bell lifted her sweat soaked hair off the back of her neck and wearily peeled off her outer robes. Her Haileybury Hammers teammates were groaning slightly as muscles protested at the last four hours of hard play. But there were grins all around; victory has a definite way of dulling muscle pain. Janet, the team manager, popped her head around the door. “Katie, hon, there’s some people here to see you.”
Katie frowned, holding her sweat soaked uniform away from her body. “Now? I’m a little fragrant – I’m sure Ollie can wait until after I’ve had a shower.”
“It’s not your Scottish Keeper, it’s a Mrs Angelina Weasley and … guest.” Janet grinned, delighted at the way this day had turned out, a championship win and, if she was reading the cards right, her top Chaser was about to get the international recognition she deserved.
“Angie’s here?” Katie dropped the towel she had just picked up and rushed to the door. “I wasn’t expecting her here today.”
Angelina waited patiently on the couch absently smoothing the material over her still flat stomach. She was a marked contrast to Martin who paced up and down in front of her.
“She’s magnificent…that last reverse pass was perfection…Why haven’t I seen her play before?”
“We’ve been over this Martin. She hasn’t played professionally in England for over three years.” Angelina broke off as Katie rushed through the door, rising from the couch to give her a big hug.
“What on earth are you doing here Angie?” Katie demanded. “I wasn’t expecting to see you till Alicia’s baby shower next week.”
Martin cleared his throat impatiently as he stretched out his hand towards her. “Martin Kingsley, England’s manager, Miss Bell,” he introduced himself. “I have a proposition to put to you.”
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Marcus Flint stretched out in bed reaching over to turn the alarm clock off irritably. He was due to meet Draco for a late brunch in two hours and he wanted to get in some weight training before he had to leave. They’d had to reschedule dinner from the night before due to an ‘emergency team meeting’, the subject of which still had him swearing under his breath as he grabbed a pair of track pants from the floor.
Martin Kingsley bounced up and down the front of the meeting room as his team sprawled around the table in front of him. “My apologies for the late notice, but I wanted to tell you this in person”.
Marcus sighed impatiently, waiting for the officious little man to get to the point.
“It is my sad duty to inform you that Angelina has announced her resignation from the team.”
Marcus quickly raised his head from the floor and stared in disbelief at his fellow Chaser. Resignation? Now, he would be the first to admit that Weasley and he didn’t get along, but they were bloody effective together in the air. “What the bloody hell do you mean resigned?” Marcus snarled, “You can’t resign from the national squad two months before the bloody World Cup.”
The meeting had gone progressively downhill from there.
Marcus finished stretching out the final set of muscles before padding into the marble bathroom. Towelling off after a hot shower, he swiped at the steam that had condensed onto the mirror and stared moodily at his reflection. He absently ran his tongue over his now straight teeth. Two years after a direct hit from a Bludger had resulted in extensive reconstruction of his lower face, his new smile still took him by surprise. The protuberant teeth were long gone, the medi-witch seeing no need to grow them back into their original crooked glory. If he looked closely, he could still make out the faint scars around his lips where the Bludger had smacked against bone. He had kept playing the final ten minutes of the game; a shattered jaw wasn’t going to stop him from winning his first Quidditch title since leaving Hogwarts. The fact that the match was against Puddlemere United and that prat Oliver Wood had only made victory that much sweeter. Blinding pain hadn’t stopped him then, and he sure as hell wasn’t going to let this latest debacle get in the way of winning the World Cup. Katie bloody Bell better not hold the team back. He didn’t baby anyone on the pitch and certainly not goody goody ex-Gryff Chasers!
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Marcus slouched against the table, not even responding to the less than subtle flirting the waitress had been indulging in. Draco smirked at the scowling figure across the table from him. “I take it the meeting didn’t go well?”
“Sodding Weasley quit the goddamn team!”
“Ah I thought something like that might have been the case. I take it her impending motherhood played a part in the decision,” Draco murmured.
Marcus glared. “If you knew about this and didn’t tell me…”
Draco cut him off before he could work himself into a right snit. “Now now, would I do that to a friend? Don’t answer that you prat – Gin only told me last night. I would have owled you but she was wearing this little black thing with red bows and quite frankly old man you were at the bottom of my to do list”.
Marcus pushed aside all inappropriate thoughts about Draco’s girlfriend to get back to the matter at hand. “I can’t see why Johnson – Weasley – couldn’t continue playing. It’s murder to bring in a change this late in the training!”
Draco laughed. “She’s having triplets you git. Give her a couple of months and she’ll be the size of a hippogriff. It’s not as if she deliberately sabotaged your chances at the World Cup.” Marcus shifted uncomfortably in his chair and Draco looked at the slight swelling around Marcus’s left eye. “Merlin, Marcus, tell me you didn’t accuse her of doing this deliberately?” Draco broke off into helpless laughter as Marcus refused to meet his eyes. Recovering himself he asked. “Have they any idea who they’ll replace her with?”
Marcus snarled. “Oh yes we have a brand new Chaser all signed up and starting next week. I am stuck playing alongside Beanpole Bell.”
“Beanpole Bell – they asked Katie Bell to replace Weasley?” Draco pursed his lips slightly in thought. “Not a bad choice actually - she’s as good if not better than Angelina.”
“I wouldn’t know,” Marcus muttered angrily, “none of us have ever seen her play professionally.”
Draco started to laugh again. “I had totally forgotten you used to call her Beanpole.”
“It was the perfect name for her,” Marcus defended himself, “she was tall skinny and completely flat-chested.”
Draco’s eyes widened at that description of Katie, trying to reconcile that description with the Katherine Bell he had seen at George and Alicia’s wedding. “Tell me Marcus, when was the last time you saw her?”
“Not since Hogwarts. I was eighteen, which would have made her about fifteen I guess. I doubt much has changed; there wasn’t an awful lot there to work with.”
Draco’s grin became vicious as he looked across the table at his friend, deciding not to tell him that Marcus didn’t have exclusive rights on changing appearance after leaving school. It would be much more fun to see his reaction first hand. “Come over for a drink after you finish up on Monday and tell me how it went.”
“Make mine a double and I’ll be there. I’m going to need it!”
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Katie snuggled down on the couch against Oliver Wood giggling as Angelina pantomimed last night’s fight with Marcus Flint. The two of them had come over to the Weasley twins’ sprawling home to celebrate Angelina’s pregnancy and Katie’s elevation to the World Cup team.
“I can’t believe he accused you of getting pregnant just to spite him,” Alicia giggled.
“Yeah well, I told him that despite what he wanted to believe his desires didn’t factor into my sex life!”
Oliver choked at that, hastily putting down his champagne flute before he spilt anymore. “Oh to have been a fly on the wall in that meeting…” he moaned dramatically.
“Ha! We’re not about to let a representative of the Scottish World Cup team into our secret team meetings,” Angelina shot back.
Oliver grinned at her. “Fair enough. But can I at least fantasise about being present to see you wallop Flint?”
Katie poured herself another glass of champagne and smirked up at him. “Go ahead Ollie my dear,” she purred, “I’ll make sure to tell Flint that you are fantasising about spanking him when I see him on Monday.”
The four Weasleys dissolved into laughter as they watched Oliver attempt to smother his best friend of nineteen years with a large floral cushion. Once order had been largely restored, a rather red faced and dishevelled Katie snuggled back into her original position. Angelina exchanged a telling look with Oliver and spoke seriously. “Kit Kat, how are you honestly feeling about seeing him again? He made your life fairly unpleasant at Hogwarts.” The twins and Alicia were uncharacteristically silent as they let Angelina take the lead.
Katie looked around at her concerned friends with a smile. “I’d say unpleasant was an understatement but I’m a big girl now. I’m not that same scared kid I was back then. I’ve done a lot of growing up in the last few years and I am not about to let some overgrown school bully use me as a verbal punching bag!”
Oliver grinned down at Katie and tucked her more firmly against his side. “That’s my girl.”
End Chapter One
STANDARD DISCLAIMER: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
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Angelina Weasley looked over the desk at the irate manager of the English Quidditch team and sighed. “Look it’s not my fault. This wasn’t a deliberate act. You know how much I want to play but face facts Martin, by the time the finals roll around there won’t be a broom strong enough to get me off the ground.”
“Not deliberate? You’re a witch Angelina. I’m pretty sure you are up to a simple contraceptive charm!”
“I’m also married to a Weasley.” Angelina grinned, “There isn’t a spell strong enough to protect a girl against that level of fertility.”
Martin choked slightly at that.
“I have always wanted to represent my country, always wanted to win the World Cup, but I am willing to step aside now and give you time to find a replacement rather than continue playing and make things even more difficult later on.”
Martin rested his head in his hands with a groan. “Even replacing you now is going to be a nightmare. I have finally got the Chaser line up working together and not trying to kill each other. You may not like it Angelina, but your style compliments Marcus’s very well. It would mean changing our entire strategy to bring in a new player now.”
Angelina smirked at him in response. “I have a couple of thoughts on that – what if I told you there was another Chaser who had the same style as me, has been playing professionally for as long as I have, and is eligible to represent England?”
Martin fixed his gaze on her. “You better not be playing with an old man Weasley. Who is he?”
“He’s a she you sexist git. She’s playing tomorrow in Vancouver. You can see how she is in person.”
“Do I get a name for this unknown Quidditch life saver?”
“Katherine – Katie – Bell.”
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Katie Bell lifted her sweat soaked hair off the back of her neck and wearily peeled off her outer robes. Her Haileybury Hammers teammates were groaning slightly as muscles protested at the last four hours of hard play. But there were grins all around; victory has a definite way of dulling muscle pain. Janet, the team manager, popped her head around the door. “Katie, hon, there’s some people here to see you.”
Katie frowned, holding her sweat soaked uniform away from her body. “Now? I’m a little fragrant – I’m sure Ollie can wait until after I’ve had a shower.”
“It’s not your Scottish Keeper, it’s a Mrs Angelina Weasley and … guest.” Janet grinned, delighted at the way this day had turned out, a championship win and, if she was reading the cards right, her top Chaser was about to get the international recognition she deserved.
“Angie’s here?” Katie dropped the towel she had just picked up and rushed to the door. “I wasn’t expecting her here today.”
Angelina waited patiently on the couch absently smoothing the material over her still flat stomach. She was a marked contrast to Martin who paced up and down in front of her.
“She’s magnificent…that last reverse pass was perfection…Why haven’t I seen her play before?”
“We’ve been over this Martin. She hasn’t played professionally in England for over three years.” Angelina broke off as Katie rushed through the door, rising from the couch to give her a big hug.
“What on earth are you doing here Angie?” Katie demanded. “I wasn’t expecting to see you till Alicia’s baby shower next week.”
Martin cleared his throat impatiently as he stretched out his hand towards her. “Martin Kingsley, England’s manager, Miss Bell,” he introduced himself. “I have a proposition to put to you.”
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Marcus Flint stretched out in bed reaching over to turn the alarm clock off irritably. He was due to meet Draco for a late brunch in two hours and he wanted to get in some weight training before he had to leave. They’d had to reschedule dinner from the night before due to an ‘emergency team meeting’, the subject of which still had him swearing under his breath as he grabbed a pair of track pants from the floor.
Martin Kingsley bounced up and down the front of the meeting room as his team sprawled around the table in front of him. “My apologies for the late notice, but I wanted to tell you this in person”.
Marcus sighed impatiently, waiting for the officious little man to get to the point.
“It is my sad duty to inform you that Angelina has announced her resignation from the team.”
Marcus quickly raised his head from the floor and stared in disbelief at his fellow Chaser. Resignation? Now, he would be the first to admit that Weasley and he didn’t get along, but they were bloody effective together in the air. “What the bloody hell do you mean resigned?” Marcus snarled, “You can’t resign from the national squad two months before the bloody World Cup.”
The meeting had gone progressively downhill from there.
Marcus finished stretching out the final set of muscles before padding into the marble bathroom. Towelling off after a hot shower, he swiped at the steam that had condensed onto the mirror and stared moodily at his reflection. He absently ran his tongue over his now straight teeth. Two years after a direct hit from a Bludger had resulted in extensive reconstruction of his lower face, his new smile still took him by surprise. The protuberant teeth were long gone, the medi-witch seeing no need to grow them back into their original crooked glory. If he looked closely, he could still make out the faint scars around his lips where the Bludger had smacked against bone. He had kept playing the final ten minutes of the game; a shattered jaw wasn’t going to stop him from winning his first Quidditch title since leaving Hogwarts. The fact that the match was against Puddlemere United and that prat Oliver Wood had only made victory that much sweeter. Blinding pain hadn’t stopped him then, and he sure as hell wasn’t going to let this latest debacle get in the way of winning the World Cup. Katie bloody Bell better not hold the team back. He didn’t baby anyone on the pitch and certainly not goody goody ex-Gryff Chasers!
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Marcus slouched against the table, not even responding to the less than subtle flirting the waitress had been indulging in. Draco smirked at the scowling figure across the table from him. “I take it the meeting didn’t go well?”
“Sodding Weasley quit the goddamn team!”
“Ah I thought something like that might have been the case. I take it her impending motherhood played a part in the decision,” Draco murmured.
Marcus glared. “If you knew about this and didn’t tell me…”
Draco cut him off before he could work himself into a right snit. “Now now, would I do that to a friend? Don’t answer that you prat – Gin only told me last night. I would have owled you but she was wearing this little black thing with red bows and quite frankly old man you were at the bottom of my to do list”.
Marcus pushed aside all inappropriate thoughts about Draco’s girlfriend to get back to the matter at hand. “I can’t see why Johnson – Weasley – couldn’t continue playing. It’s murder to bring in a change this late in the training!”
Draco laughed. “She’s having triplets you git. Give her a couple of months and she’ll be the size of a hippogriff. It’s not as if she deliberately sabotaged your chances at the World Cup.” Marcus shifted uncomfortably in his chair and Draco looked at the slight swelling around Marcus’s left eye. “Merlin, Marcus, tell me you didn’t accuse her of doing this deliberately?” Draco broke off into helpless laughter as Marcus refused to meet his eyes. Recovering himself he asked. “Have they any idea who they’ll replace her with?”
Marcus snarled. “Oh yes we have a brand new Chaser all signed up and starting next week. I am stuck playing alongside Beanpole Bell.”
“Beanpole Bell – they asked Katie Bell to replace Weasley?” Draco pursed his lips slightly in thought. “Not a bad choice actually - she’s as good if not better than Angelina.”
“I wouldn’t know,” Marcus muttered angrily, “none of us have ever seen her play professionally.”
Draco started to laugh again. “I had totally forgotten you used to call her Beanpole.”
“It was the perfect name for her,” Marcus defended himself, “she was tall skinny and completely flat-chested.”
Draco’s eyes widened at that description of Katie, trying to reconcile that description with the Katherine Bell he had seen at George and Alicia’s wedding. “Tell me Marcus, when was the last time you saw her?”
“Not since Hogwarts. I was eighteen, which would have made her about fifteen I guess. I doubt much has changed; there wasn’t an awful lot there to work with.”
Draco’s grin became vicious as he looked across the table at his friend, deciding not to tell him that Marcus didn’t have exclusive rights on changing appearance after leaving school. It would be much more fun to see his reaction first hand. “Come over for a drink after you finish up on Monday and tell me how it went.”
“Make mine a double and I’ll be there. I’m going to need it!”
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Katie snuggled down on the couch against Oliver Wood giggling as Angelina pantomimed last night’s fight with Marcus Flint. The two of them had come over to the Weasley twins’ sprawling home to celebrate Angelina’s pregnancy and Katie’s elevation to the World Cup team.
“I can’t believe he accused you of getting pregnant just to spite him,” Alicia giggled.
“Yeah well, I told him that despite what he wanted to believe his desires didn’t factor into my sex life!”
Oliver choked at that, hastily putting down his champagne flute before he spilt anymore. “Oh to have been a fly on the wall in that meeting…” he moaned dramatically.
“Ha! We’re not about to let a representative of the Scottish World Cup team into our secret team meetings,” Angelina shot back.
Oliver grinned at her. “Fair enough. But can I at least fantasise about being present to see you wallop Flint?”
Katie poured herself another glass of champagne and smirked up at him. “Go ahead Ollie my dear,” she purred, “I’ll make sure to tell Flint that you are fantasising about spanking him when I see him on Monday.”
The four Weasleys dissolved into laughter as they watched Oliver attempt to smother his best friend of nineteen years with a large floral cushion. Once order had been largely restored, a rather red faced and dishevelled Katie snuggled back into her original position. Angelina exchanged a telling look with Oliver and spoke seriously. “Kit Kat, how are you honestly feeling about seeing him again? He made your life fairly unpleasant at Hogwarts.” The twins and Alicia were uncharacteristically silent as they let Angelina take the lead.
Katie looked around at her concerned friends with a smile. “I’d say unpleasant was an understatement but I’m a big girl now. I’m not that same scared kid I was back then. I’ve done a lot of growing up in the last few years and I am not about to let some overgrown school bully use me as a verbal punching bag!”
Oliver grinned down at Katie and tucked her more firmly against his side. “That’s my girl.”
End Chapter One
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