Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Relationships: Katie Bell/Marcus Flint
Series: Part 4 of Unconventional, Almost Unlikely
Summary: It takes a lot of people to make a winning team. Katie is prepared to do her share.
"You couldn't have asked me to come with you like a reasonable person?" Katie snapped as she rubbed her painful wrist.
"Sorry, but you'd argue for hours if I had," Adrian apologised insincerely and pointed at the door. "You should go in. He needs you."
Katie sighed and folded her arms; the urge to roll her eyes is hard to suppress. "What’s wrong now?"
"He's driving everyone mad with his nerviness. The team thought…you know...that you could do your magic. They're afraid that he'll cost them the Cup…" Adrian trailed off and shrugged, avoiding any eye contact. "So you know; the coach approved."
Above them in the stadium, the announcers goaded the crowds into making as much noise as possible in the final minutes before the start of the all-decisive match. The sounds of stamping feet and cheering and chanting voices resonated all around the catacombs.
Katie sighed and glanced at her watch, five minutes to calm down her husband. She should have known that the rules the national team's new coach had enforced wouldn’t work. Not with Marcus, anyway. Five minutes, well, that left her with just one option. She licked her lips and squared her shoulders; England counted on her.
"Keep the rest away. I'll send him up when we're done," she said firmly and unbuttoned the top buttons of her blouse.
Adrian craned his neck to peek into the locker room when Katie opened the door and waltzed in. He caught a glimpse of a nervously pacing Marcus. At least, he was dressed. Progress, as far as he was concerned.
"I can't do this," Marcus warbled in panic when he noticed Katie. "What am I doing, I'm rubbish at Quidditch. Why did they pick me? I-I can't do this."
Just before the door closed behind her, Adrian heard Katie say, "Yes, you can. Drop those trousers, Flint."
With Marcus Flint leading, the English National Team flew into the pitch just as Katie flopped down in her chair in the private skybox looking over the stadium. She snatched the beer from Alicia's hands and gulped half of it down in one go.
"Thirsty?" Alicia asked in surprise as she watched the golden liquid trickle down Katie's chin, who usually hated the taste of beer. "What did Pucey want?"
"Parched," Katie replied after letting out a small burp and wiping her mouth with her sleeve. She held the half-empty cup back out to Alicia. "Marcus needed a mouthful of reassurance and encouragement."
Alicia's eyes danced from the cup to a smugly grinning Katie. That was all she needed to know. "You keep it. I'll get a new one later."
She pulled a face of disgust and turned her attention to the pitch just in time to see Marcus shake hands with the Portuguese Captain. She had to admit; he looked more relaxed than his opponent did.
Katie had done her job well.