Fandom: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Relationships: Katie Bell/Marcus Flint
Characters: Katie Bell, Marcus Flint, Angelina Johnson, Alicia Spinnet, Terence Higgs, Adrian Pucey, Millicent Bulstrode
Additional Tags: One Night Stands, Loss of Virginity, Alternate Universe, Romance, Attempt at Humor
Series: Part 2 of Unconventional, Almost Unlikely
Angie and Ally knew that Katie would never say 'no' to a dare. It was always a matter of misplaced sense of pride for their friend and the girls always knew how to exploit that.
Katie knew that she was as crazy as her friends when she uttered the words that would change the course of her whole life.
“Fine. I’m in.”
“Oh, come on! Don’t tell me that you haven’t done that either?” Angelina slurred a bit too loudly. Wine always made her louder than she already was, and tonight was no exception.
It was Friday night at the Leaky and in two days, Katie had to board the Hogwarts Express again to start the second term of her seventh year. At the time, it had seemed such a great idea to have a last drink with her friends before she left. And as usual, she was already regretting it because once again, the girls had left their manners and filters at home.
Alicia and Angelina had finished school last year and had signed on as reserve Chasers for the Magpies. They led the lives Katie could only dream of, namely playing Quidditch professionally. In a few months, over the Easter Holiday, open try-outs for the various teams in the Premier League would take place again, and Katie planned on participating in each and every one of them. Getting selected for a professional team was her only goal at the moment, much to her parents' frustration. They would rather see her settled into a safe and predictable Ministry job as they had.
However, all that was still in the future. Tonight was all about getting sloshed before she had to study her arse off to pass at least one or two N.E.W.T.s. The empty bottles of wine on the table were a testament to that resolution and Katie couldn’t deny that she was beginning to feel the effects of the alcohol. Blurting out things about her personal life, or the lack thereof despite knowing better than to entrust her friends with that information, for example.
“Keep it down, you hag! Not everyone has to hear this.” Katie eyed the several men sitting at the tables around them. The way some of them watched her and her friends, and even licked their lips while doing so, gave her the shudders. They weren’t exactly Witch Weekly front-page material. In fact, they seemed like the types you'd expect on the MLE’s ‘Most Wanted’ posters.
“You can’t blame her. You've dated McLaggen for how long? And all you managed were a few kisses and literally one finger under your shirt.” Alicia cackled as she clapped her hands. “What did you do all those months? Pass notes and hold hands?”
Katie shook her head, failing to see the humour in it. “His hands were freezing. I nearly jumped out my skin when he touched me.”
Her friends burst into another fit of giggles while Katie merely shrugged and took a big gulp from her goblet. McLaggen was a nice enough, good looking bloke, as long as he kept his mouth shut and stayed in his corner. And the kissing itself hadn’t been all that bad. If you were the kind that liked boys slobbering all over your face and choking you with pushing their tongue down your throat. So, if you were into that, the kissing wasn’t bad. As it turned out, Katie wasn’t into that. She liked her face dry after a snog and was rather fond of her ability to breathe, thank you very much.
Dating him was a mistake, she had known from the moment he’d asked her out. But, being the pushover that she was, she hadn’t dared to say no. After two months of doing her best to avoid being alone with him and that awful shot at a kiss, they’d finally parted ways just before the Christmas holiday. His attempt to put his hand under her shirt had given her the final push. The idea of him wanting to put his cold hands on another part of her body beside her hands, without any barrier at that, had freaked her out. So much, in fact, that she had kneed him in reflex, there where it hurt the most. Safe to say, that had been the exact moment their short-lived romance had ended.
If one could call it a romance that is.
Katie didn’t think that holding hands and avoiding each other as much as possible was the right definition of that. Not according to the romance novels she liked to read, at least.
“You know what your problem is, love?” Angelina’s motherly tone didn’t bode well. “You’re a bit too prudish. I blame your parents.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Katie scowled as she crossed her arms. The words stung. Cormac had called her that before he had limped away from her that night. “And don't drag my parents into this.”
“Why not? Look at how strict they’ve raised you. The only outlandish things you’ve ever done is play Quidditch, your foul mouth, and kiss a few boys. Those last two, by the way, would cause your dad to shit himself if he ever found out. I bet you even brought that phial of Sober-Up Potion with you so they won’t notice that you’ve been drinking tonight. That’s hardly exciting. You’re of age, for Merlin’s sake. You need to let go, have fun! What’s the saying? Oh yes, sow your wild oats.”
“Like you, you mean?” Katie snorted at Angie’s words. Her friend’s idea of fun was hardly hers. The mere idea of bringing home another wizard after each game, sometimes even a Muggle when she felt adventurous, was something she wasn't comfortable with, at all.
“Well, yes! You don’t know what you’re missing. Tell her, Ally.”
"Yeah, she's right." A glassy-eyed Alicia nodded furiously. “You need a good shag.”
“Says the girl who has been attached at the hip to her boyfriend since forever. How’s George, by the way?”
“Yeah, yeah, he’s okay." Alicia frowned for a second before she shook it off and continued what she was saying. "The point is that I, like Angie the hussy over there-”
“Hey! I resent that!”
Alicia waved off Angie’s indignation and continued, “What was I saying? Oh yeah. I, like Angie the Harlot –is that better?- do shag regularly. It’s a good way to relieve some stress. You have a whole castle of boys at your disposal. Do what she did; try a few on for size.”
“I’m still here, you know,” Angie retorted tartly.
“You’re hard to miss, love. As I was saying…dammit. Oh yes. Try a few from the different houses, not shitting where you eat and all, dipping your quill in the House ink. Uhm, or whatever it is they're calling it these days. You need a good banging. I’m sure you’ll love it.”
Katie topped off her goblet again and drank it half-empty in one go before she replied. “You two are crazy, mental. I’m not gonna do that. Unlike you two, I have some self-respect.”
“What does that have to do with banging your brains out?” Angie retorted. “Our dear but utterly deranged friend is right. You know, I’m sure that if you’d have given McLaggen a chance, he could have changed your mind. I hear that he’s quite a talent.”
The urge to roll her eyes was overwhelming, but Katie managed to suppress it. Of course, she’d heard about Cormac’s many talents. Who hadn’t? Merlin, Parvati hadn’t shut up about it last year. Then Lavender, Cho, even that nearly invisible Sally-Ann had something to say. Then there was that Slytherin girl -what’s her name?- never-ending whispers about it during a Potions class. Come to think of it; McLaggen did get around. A lot.
“So, I’ve been told. But no thanks, I know where those hands have been.”
“Prude,” both her friends said in unison and burst out into laughter.
Maybe Katie should cut them off. Some water would do them well. Or, she should leave and end this verbal torture. Somehow, a night out with the girls always ended in lewd sex talk and her being confused about her principals.
“I’m not a prude. There is nothing wrong with actually liking a guy before letting him in your knickers. And I didn’t like Cormac in that way.”
“You’re just afraid of the unknown. I bet that once you start doing it, you’ll be unstoppable. You’d be a nymph.”
“A nymph? As in…?”
“An endless hunger for sex, shagging, fucking, screwing, bonking.” Alicia mused dreamily and yet again far, far too loud. Yes, it was definitively time to cut her off.
“Will you shut up? I get the picture,” Katie said annoyed. The men were watching them again. Dirty old bastards. “I’m in no hurry. Besides, shouldn't you love someone first before falling into bed with them?”
“Love, no. A bed isn't necessary neither. A wall will do just as well. Or, if the bloke is strong enough, he can hold you while he shags you senseless. That it more expert level, though. He could also just bend you over,” Alicia lectured her friend, dead serious.
“That’s it. No more wine for you.”
“Prude,” Alicia grumbled and signalled Tom to bring her another bottle.
“Heavens, Katie! At eighteen you've only kissed two boys! You kicked the last one in the nutsack because he wanted to have a handful of tit.” Angelina sadly shook her head like a disappointed mother.
Katie cringed as she remembered the force behind her kick and the feel of her knee squashing something soft. She hoped for McLaggen's future wife’s sake it still functioned down there. “That doesn’t make me a prude.”
“In my,’ Angie nodded at Alicia, ‘our book, it does.”
“Prove it!” Alicia said suddenly, clapping her hands in excitement, “Prove to us that you’re not a priss!”
“Have you finally gone mad? Do we need to send you to St. Mungo’s? How am I supposed to prove that?”
The evening was getting more uncomfortable with the minute. These two bints weren’t going to let this go. Moreover, with the amount of wine that Katie already had, the chance that she was going to go with whatever her friends came up with was rather high. She always did in the end. That’s how she got her first kiss from Roger Davies and got caught peeping at a very naked Oliver Wood in the Prefects’ bathroom.
Angelina and Alicia seemed to have a silent conversation for a few minutes before they turned to Katie again. The night wasn’t going to end well; she just knew it. She ought to leave now while her dignity was still intact.
“How about a dare?” Alicia slurred, “A very simple one. Even you shouldn’t have a problem with it.”
“What kind of dare?” Katie asked suspiciously. Yes, she should definitively leave, and yet, she stayed. What was wrong with her?
“What about…” Angie tapped her chin. “Oh, I got it. How about you snogging the first bloke that comes through the door? You can chat him up first if you want. But there has to be spit swapping and some groping at the end of the night. I’m talking about a handful and in full sight. No offence, but we can’t take your word for it.”
Katie looked around in disgust. Most of the men around were old enough to be her father or even her granddad. How likely was it that someone more close to her age would walk in? But most importantly, why was she even considering this?
“How does that prove anything?”
Angie, who apparently couldn't think of a proper reply, just shrugged and gulped down the rest of her wine. Alicia looked at her through half open eyes as if she saw Katie for the first time. It took her while to realise that she had to answer. “It does. Are you in or out?”
“What if I’m out?”
“Prude,” both girls repeated.
“Fucking slags,” Katie muttered. They knew that she'd never say no to a dare. It had always been a matter of misplaced sense of pride for her, and the girls always knew how to exploit that. When she uttered the next words that would change everything, Katie knew that she was as crazy as her friends were. Even more so.
“Fine, I’m in.”
‘Please, let it be decent bloke.’
The twittering of birds woke Katie up from one of the most erotic dreams she had ever had. Bleary-eyed and muttering about sodding hell birds ruining her dreams, she briefly blinked around the room. It was still dark enough with just enough sunlight shining from underneath the curtains to prove it was morning. Well, day, at least, which was all she needed to know.
Refusing to open her eyes again, she desperately tried to relive the dream about a dark-haired prince who had saved her from the clutches of two hags. As a reward, she’d given him permission to do whatever he wanted to do to her body. And Gods, how he had.
After a few minutes, she gave up. The dream slipped away as the reality of early morning after a night of heavy drinking set in. Her head was pounding as her brain tried to crawl out through to her eye sockets, and she was sure that she was oozing wine from her pores. Her mouth felt like she had given the girls’ locker room a mopping with her tongue. In short; she'd forgotten to take her Sober-Up Potion.
But that wasn't what felt off.
Looking around again, Katie tried to focus enough on figuring out where she was. The room didn’t look familiar, so she wasn’t at home. Nor did it resemble one of the girls' flats. Did she rent a room at the Leaky then perhaps?
Groaning, Katie realised that her parents were going to kill her. She never stayed out the whole night when she was home from school. Not unless she had asked it two weeks in advance, in duplicate writing.
‘They’ll probably ground me for life.’
A deep snore from her left side startled her. That, and the large and muscular arm draping itself around her waist and pulling her closer. Fine dark hairs dusted the tanned skin on the forearm. No, clearly not one of the girls; Alicia had that particular problem fixed last year. This was a man’s arm. For a minute, Katie wondered whether she was still sleeping or not and this was the continuation of her thigh-clenching dream. Another deep snore shattered that hope; Prince Charming wasn’t supposed to make those kinds of noises. Certainly not in dreams.
So, what did it mean?
Katie momentarily forgot about her parents’ possible reaction to her staying out all night. Her heart started beating erratically in her chest as she last night’s events flashed before her eyes. She remembered the ridiculous conversation with the girls, the too much wine they'd drunk, and the dare.
Oh Merlin, the dare! She’d accepted the dare to snog the first bloke who walked into the Leaky. Clearly, she had, but more than that, he was lying next to her. Katie was about to cry. A kiss, a quick grope, and then flee home in embarrassment. That had been her plan. Not this: a hairy arm draped around her waist.
‘Fucking cunts, why didn’t they stop me?’
Mustering up some courage, Katie slightly turned her head with closed eyes. There was bound to be a face that went with the arm, right? She needed to know whom she ended up in bed with so that she could avoid him in the future in case she ever got out of Azkaban for killing her so-called friends.
Slowly, Katie opened her eyes, all the while praying to whoever took the time to listen, that this was just a figment of her hormone-drenched imagination. Unfortunately for her, it wasn’t. In fact, what she saw only made her feel more horrible that she already felt. Because there, sleeping serenely with his mouth slightly agape, lay Marcus Flint. The troll Flint who had been a few years above her at Hogwarts. Flint, the current captain of the Tornadoes and recently named Quidditch player of the year.
“Later. Sleep first,” he grumbled sleepily and pulled her closer. His naked body flushed against hers as he nuzzled the crook of her neck.
Naked. Body. Why were they naked?
Katie stared at him wide eyed. Marcus sodding Flint. How much did she drink last night to let this happen? It took her a few minutes to gain her senses again and wriggle free. It was time to go home, cleanse herself and thoroughly, and pretend this had never happened. And somewhere in between it the long shower and forgetting, her friends needed a good hexing as well. But first, she needed to get away from here, wherever ‘here’ was. Breaking free from Flint’s firm hold proved harder than she’d expected. The man was strong, even in his sleep.
“Flint? Let me go,” Katie whispered. There was no need to wake the sleeping giant.
“Sleep,” he mumbled again and snuggled closer.
Something poked her thigh, and she tried hard not to think about what it could be. There were more pressing matters at hand. For instance, how was she going to free herself from Flint's grasp? After lying still for a few more minutes, she tried again.
“Flint? I need to use the loo. If you don’t let me go now, I’m gonna wet the bed.”
He mumbled something unintelligible and finally let her go. As fast as she could, Katie jumped out bed, starkers and her body sore. She didn’t want to think too much of what could have caused that soreness. Getting dressed was the next priority now. Her clothes lay scattered all over the room. The first thing she picked up were her knickers, torn apart. Her bra hung from the candelabra. With her cheeks flushed a bright red, she gathered the rest of her clothes and wand and ran through the first door she managed to open.
Luckily for her, it was the door to the bathroom, which was far too luxurious to be at the Leaky Cauldron. As far as she knew, they didn’t have marble countertops or golden fixtures. Gingerly, she sat at on the toilet. If the nakedness and soreness hadn't been enough evidence, the stinging when she peed and the bit of blood when she cleaned herself sure was. She had done ‘it’ with Flint.
‘Sex, Katie, it’s called sex.’
“Shit, shit, shit,” she muttered to herself as she cradled her head in her hands. The urge to cry was overwhelming. How could this have happened? Snog a bloke and feel him up; that was all she had to do. Not end up in bed with him. That was something Angie did, not her.
She remembered telling Angie that there was no way in the seven rings of hell that she was going to snog Flint, losing that discussion -after she’d explained what it meant- and walking up to him for a chat, which had surprisingly enough turned into genuine flirting. Again, there had been a lot of booze involved. And then the kissing. Oh dear Morgana, the kissing!
More clearly now, she remembered trying to climb Flint like he was some jungle gym to get some friction while his fingers had dug into the soft flesh of her bum. And most definitively, she remembered eagerly nodding when he'd suggested to go somewhere more private to continue.
Again, why hadn’t her friends stopped her? Instead, they had catcalled and cheered her on. They were older (just by a year) and wiser (they barely managed three N.E.W.T.’s between them) and should have known better. Katie vowed to make buttons of their bones as soon as she got her hands on those twats.
Quickly as possible, she got dressed and tucked the torn knickers into one of her pockets. She needed to get out before Flint woke up, and things turned awkward. Facing him was not high on her priority list right now. He probably wanted her gone as well. She’d been just an all too willing casual shag, after all. He must get that a lot, being a professional Quidditch player and all. Then again, as Angie was her only reference point in that particular area, Katie could be wrong. She wasn’t sure.
Dammit, she’d become one of those groupie kinds of girls. He must think that she’d done it for her fifteen minutes of fame. That only added more to the embarrassment and humiliation she was already feeling. Without thinking twice, Katie pulled out her wand and Apparated, all the way thinking how she was going to explain not coming home last night to her parents and hoping that her face wouldn’t be plastered all over the Prophet as Flint’s latest conquest.
On the other side of the door, Marcus sat upright in his bed with disappointment written all over his face. He had a great time last night and had hoped for another go this morning. He had even planned to take her back to her parents and properly introduce himself to them. It was the gentlemanly thing to do after all. His mother had raised him well enough to know how to treat a good girl. And little Bell had clearly been one before he got his hands on her.
But, as soon as he had noticed her frantically searching the room for her clothes, he had known that a second romp was not going to happen. Most chits needed to be escorted out in the mornings, sometimes with force, because they always overstayed their welcome. It was funny how the one he wanted to stay, was eager to get away. Instead of confronting her, he’d relaxed the wards to allow her to leave if she wanted to.
When he heard the loud crack of her Apparition, he dropped back with a sigh.
Not one to give up that easily, though, he spent the rest of the day to come up with a plan to meet her again. Little Bell had grown up quite a bit since he’d last seen her and he liked what he saw. She was pretty good shag for such an innocent, and he would be damned if he let that slip through his fingers.
“Ready or not Princess, you’re mine now.”