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I.

"Move, Potter!"

Had it not been for Brevis' shout, he never would have seen the bludger that was on a collision course with the side of his head. His captain's timely warning plus his tremendous reflexes were all that saved him. He was able to swerve his broom sharply to the right and narrowly avoid what would have been a nasty mid-air accident.

"I know you're focused on finding the snitch, but you have to keep an eye out for incoming bludgers too! I'm not always going to be close enough to keep them off you!" Brevis Birch, beater and captain of the Tutshill Tornados, seemed to believe that Harry had been so locked in on doing his job as seeker that he'd blocked out all else, and he wasn't about to correct him. His no-nonsense captain would not take it well if Harry told him that he'd actually been too busy staring at Katie Bell's arse to worry about anything else.

"Right! Sorry!" he shouted back sheepishly. It might have been unprofessional, not to mention dangerous, but it was really all Katie's fault if you thought about it. The way she flew right past him on her way towards one of the Salem hoops while wearing those tight quidditch trousers, it was like she was taunting him.

"And Rodgers has seen the snitch!" the announcer bellowed. Bugger. Not good. Harry pushed his top-of-the-line Firebolt Supreme to its very limit in an effort to catch up to the Salem seeker, all the while mumbling to himself about spending the holiday overseas, the expectations that accompanied fame, and the distracting sight that was Katie Bell's bum in quidditch trousers.

II.

"Nice catch today, Mr. Potter. For a moment there I thought Rodgers was going to beat you to it."

"Thanks," Harry mumbled as he autographed the fan's Tornados poster. He thought it was a bit silly for a grown man to want his autograph, but such was the life of a professional qudditch player who also happened to be the man who stopped Voldemort.

The fan had a point though. His lack of focus had nearly cost the team the match. Tutshill was a vastly more talented team than Salem, so even though this had been an exhibition match which had no bearing on the club's standing in the British and Irish Quidditch League, a loss would have earned them a great deal of ridicule back home. Thankfully Harry was a far better flier than Salem's seeker, so he'd been able to beat Rodgers to the snitch once he finally saw it. Birch had given him a slight nod as they landed following the match but that was the extent of the congratulations he received from his captain. He certainly would never have heard the end of it if Rodgers had beaten him to the snitch though.

Lack of recognition from his captain was nothing new, nor was it his biggest gripe at the moment. He'd complained about this two week tour of North America and plenty of his teammates had joined him in doing so, though the brownnosing Birch was not among them. Team owner Francis Smith, who was every bit as annoying as his grandson Zacharias, shot down the players in question with a speech about how this trip was going to attract countless new North American fans who didn't get the chance to see Tutshill play often, making the Tornados a global brand. This would lead to more revenue for everyone associated with the team, the players included, and surely that was more than worth being away from home for two weeks. That was easy for him to say considering he hadn't made the trip and was spending the holidays back home in England. The rest of the team wasn't so lucky, and given the difficulty and expense of arranging an overseas portkey, they wouldn't make it back home until the tour ended in five days.

The Weasleys were probably sitting down for a delicious home-cooked Christmas dinner at this very moment back in Ottery St. Catchpole. Rather than enjoying Mrs. Weasley's treacle tart, he was sitting by himself in the least-crowded bar he could find in the magical section of Salem, trying to look as inconspicuous as possible so he could drink in peace. It wasn't working all that well. His picture might not be plastered on the cover of American newspapers several times every month like it was back home, but he was still well-known here and Old Man Smith had heavily advertised this tour, so Harry had already signed close to twenty autographs in the forty five minutes to an hour since he'd sat down and ordered his first beer.

"I'll have whatever he's having." Harry didn't need to look up to identify who had just spoken. He'd been hearing that voice in his dreams for months now.

"What brings you here, Katie?" he asked, not looking up from his bottle. He heard her sit down on the stool to his left. She accepted her bottle from the bartender gratefully.

"I could ask you the same question. I've been looking for you for almost an hour; thankfully I ran into a fan on the street who said he'd seen you in here. You know the team set up a Christmas party for us at the hotel, right? That's where everybody else is." She took her first swallow and promptly started coughing. "Fuck, that's strong! You must really wanna get pissed tonight."

"The thought had crossed my mind." He'd finally looked up when she started talking to him and had to bite his lip to keep from groaning. The quidditch gear was gone, and now she was wearing a red jumper and a pair of blue jeans. By anyone's definition she was dressed very casually, yet he could immediately feel himself growing aroused as he imagined ripping that jumper off of her, yanking her jeans down her legs and bending her over the bar top. "You can go back and enjoy the party without me. I don't really feel like being around the rest of the team at the moment."

"Aww, even me, Harry?" She mock-pouted at him and gave him the most exaggerated case of puppy dog eyes he'd ever seen.

"Of course not you," he said, smiling at her to make sure she knew he meant it. "I always like hanging out with you." If only she knew how much.

"Good. Then if you don't mind, I think I'll stay here with you. I've had enough of Finwick on this trip already."

"Me too," he agreed. Merwyn Finwick was a great keeper but also a colossal git. He got on Harry's nerves even at the best of times, but watching him try to chat Katie up all trip had him itching to pull out his wand. He might have actually done so if Katie didn't always make it patently obvious that she was not at all interested in their older teammate.

"So what's brought out your broody side today?" she asked. "Wishing you were at home to celebrate Christmas with your friends?"

"That's part of it, but not all of it. I'm getting pretty tired of Old Man Smith, and Finwick and Birch, and, well, pretty much every part of my job other than actually playing quidditch."

"Damn, you sound really unhappy." Katie frowned and put down her drink to give him her undivided attention. "Are you thinking of leaving when your contract's up next year?"

"Maybe," he answered after a long pause to consider her question. "I'm not sure what I'd do for a living if I did, but playing professional quidditch isn't anything like I'd imagined it would be. I miss the old days with our Gryffindor team."

"Those were some fun times, weren't they?" They shared a fond smile as they thought back to their Hogwarts days. "I'm not quite as down on the whole thing as you seem to be, but I do get what you're saying. Qudditch was more fun when all we were worried about was flying well, beating Slytherin and winning the cup."

"Exactly!" Harry was glad she agreed with him, partially because he figured most people would tell him to quit complaining when he got to play a game for a living, but also because her opinion meant a great deal to him. "Now we're worried about contracts, interviews, public appearances and a million other things that have nothing to do with the game."

"Not to mention there's no camaraderie like we had back in school," she added. "Hell, there's not one person on the team I'd choose to spend any time with if I wasn't getting paid for it, besides you of course." That offhanded statement she threw in at the end pleased him far more than it probably should have.

"You and me against the world, Bell," he joked. Or he did his best to pass it off as a joke at least, even if that idea sounded damned appealing to him.

"Who better to have by my side than the Boy-Who-Lived, the man who defeated the Dark Lord, the hero of wizards and witches worldwide?" Harry rolled his eyes at her over-the-top description, but the disturbing thing was that many people really did look at him with that sort of reverence. He could only thank Merlin that she wasn't one of them.

"I'll be your hero any time you want." He felt like an idiot as he waggled his eyebrows at her but her amused giggle and beaming smile were well worth it.

"I just might hold you to that," she said, still smiling. He smiled back, hoping she wouldn't be able to look at his face and read just how much he wanted her to do exactly that.

III.

Harry watched with a little half-smile as Katie enjoyed herself on the dance floor. She'd spent several minutes trying to convince him to join her, but that was a futile effort. He hadn't gotten any better since the Yule Ball, and the last thing he wanted to do was embarrass himself in front of her with his horrendous dancing.

Katie had no such fear. She wasn't dancing seriously; there was no rhyme or reason to her movements. Yet as he watched her move her body to the music seemingly at random he was captivated by her silly, fun-loving personality, which truthfully was one of the biggest reasons he was so attracted to her. Many of his closest friends told him he needed to loosen up and enjoy his life more, but no one could actually get him to do so as effortlessly as Katie.

The smile slipped from his face when he saw an unfamiliar man strut over with a smile on his face and start talking to Katie. Harry glanced over to the table he'd seen the guy at earlier and saw his buddies watching on with interest, obviously silently rooting him on. It went without saying what the blond git's intentions were, and he didn't like it one bit.

Apparently Katie didn't like it either because he could clearly see her roll her eyes and shake her head at the blond sod. He didn't take the hint and continued to try to chat her up, and Harry winced when he saw the scowl on Katie's face. She might be cheerful most of the time but she also had a short temper. Old Man Smith had already given her an official reprimand a few months earlier for slapping a fan who got grabby while posing for a photo with her, and blondie risked a similar response if this kept up much longer.

Harry didn't give a damn about him, but he definitely didn't want to see Katie get in any more trouble, especially not on their so-called 'goodwill' tour. His decision made, he paid for his drinks and got up from his stool. He walked towards the arguing pair, making no attempt to disguise his approach. He wanted the prick to hear him coming well before he actually got there.

The blond frowned when he saw Harry coming. Harry couldn't tell if he was intimidated or merely annoyed, but either way he'd done what he wanted and successfully drawn his attention away from Katie.

"Sorry, Mr. Potter, but I don't want your autograph," the blond said in a nasally voice. "I'd appreciate it if you could leave the lovely Ms. Bell and I alone so we can get better acquainted."

Harry raised one brow at blondie, thoroughly unimpressed. He briefly considered making him wait for a response, as he'd discovered that a blank and silent stare was often more effective than verbal threats when it came to intimidation. That thought was swiftly discarded when he looked at Katie out of the corner of his eye and saw her reaching for her wand. If he wanted to drive this dimwit away before Katie did something impulsive that would get her on Old Man Smith's bad side, he needed to take charge of this situation quickly.

"Mate, I was sitting all the way over there and I could still see that she wants nothing to do with you. Why don't you go back over there with your friends before this gets out of hand?"

He'd tried to discourage the bloke without sounding overly threatening; the last thing any of them needed was for his friends to get involved. The blond didn't take the hint, instead sneering at Harry. He thought he detected a bit of uncertainty behind that sneer, but the git stood his ground nevertheless.

"Look, I'm sure everybody back in jolly old England is in awe of you, but I think you're all hype. You don't scare me, little man."

Harry chuckled at that. It was true that the blond stood several inches taller than him, but he'd gotten pretty good at judging potential threats during the war. Katie's admirer might be tall, but Harry felt very confident he'd have nothing to worry about if wands were drawn. Much like Draco Malfoy, this git's bark was worse than his bite.

"It's not me you need to be worried about," he said dryly. "Katie can fight her own battles. If I hadn't come over here when I did she'd have already hexed you in the bollocks by now." The blond scoffed, but suddenly looked nervous when Katie nodded matter-of-factly.

"He's right. You, dear Darren, were about five seconds away from a hex that would've made it damn uncomfortable for you to sit down for the rest of the night. I've already told you I'm not interested, but if I need to say it one more time to finally get it through that thick skull of yours, fine. I'm not interested." His sullen expression indicated that Darren had finally admitted defeat, and Harry allowed himself to relax.

"Fine, I'm going. You're not worth it anyway, you stuck-up bitch," Darren muttered as he turned his back on them and started walking back towards his friends. "Go ahead and dance with the shrimp."

Harry clenched his fist in anger, but not because Darren had made another crack about his height. He'd had years of practice at ignoring insults hurled his way, but he wasn't about to let this prick get away with calling Katie a bitch. He was going to make him pay, to hell with what Old Man Smith thought about it!

"That's the first good idea you've had all day, Darren," Katie called out at his back. She clasped Harry's hands in her own, and Darren was long forgotten. "He was annoying, but at least he got you out here on the dance floor with me. Now let's dance."

"Katie, I really don't think--"

"I'm not taking no for an answer this time, Harry." She took a step forward, and now she was close enough that he could smell her citrusy perfume. He swallowed thickly and his pulse quickened, but he nodded all the same. If she wanted his company so badly it would be damned foolish for him to keep refusing. Hopefully she wouldn't regret it once she realized how bad a dancer he actually was.

IV.

"I don't know what you were so worried about. You're not a bad dancer at all."

"Maybe I just have the right partner." Katie smiled and rolled her eyes at that, but he'd been at least partially serious. He'd been nervous as hell when they first started dancing, but she'd been able to draw him into conversation and he'd soon calmed down. While he would never be mistaken for someone with actual training, he wasn't embarrassing himself either. Parvati and Ginny would undoubtedly be shocked if they could see him now.

"Your performance is all you, but if you want to give me the credit I'll happily take it." He chuckled and continued to lead her around the dance floor.

"All I know is that no one else I've ever danced with has found it to be an enjoyable experience." It was true. Parvati's dissatisfaction with the Yule Ball went without saying, but he hadn't gotten any better with time, as Ginny, Hermione and Luna could all attest.

"I know how much Ginny always liked to dance, so I figured she probably withheld sex or something until you got decent at it." He snorted at that idea.

"I'm sure she would've tried that if she thought it would help, but she knew it wouldn't. It took days of pleading before she finally got me to agree to just one dance at George's wedding. She didn't ask for another the rest of the day."

"Poor girl," Katie said through her snickers. "I hope your lack of dancing skills wasn't what tore you two kids apart."

"Nope," he said with a slightly strained smile on his face. He and Ginny had been apart for several years and were at the point now that they could legitimately say they were friends again, but it still stung to think about what might have been. His feelings weren't lost on Katie.

"Sorry, is that still a sore subject?" she asked. He shook his head to reassure her.

"No, Ginny and I are good. She's seeing Neville now, and they're great for each other. I'm happy for her." Katie didn't mask her skepticism, and he shook his head defensively. "Really, I am."

"Then why do you look so depressed talking about it?" she pressed. He frowned for a moment as he considered the question.

"I don't think it's really about her," he eventually declared. "It's more that she's really content, and even if I honestly am happy for her, it stings to see her like that when I'm all alone."

"You're lonely? Bloody hell, Harry, every unattached witch in Britain would kill to be with you! Half of the attached ones probably would too. I know you're not big on one night stands or anything like that, but it shouldn't be hard for you to find a witch you actually like."

Harry was very impressed that he managed not to mess up the dance and step on her feet or something, because his brain was working furiously to try and decide how to respond to that.

"There is someone I'd like to be with, actually," he admitted quietly. "But I don't think she feels the same way, and I don't want to risk our friendship." Katie's eyes widened in sudden understanding, and he felt his heart lurch.

"You fancy Hermione?! Shite, Harry, that's a tough one, especially since she's your best mate's ex. But they've been apart almost as long as you and Ginny, so enough time has passed that you could..."

"What're you talking about?" he interrupted. "I don't fancy Hermione! She's like my sister." He felt himself relax even as he corrected her mistaken assumption. For a moment he'd been afraid that she'd figured him out. That would've been awkward, especially with five days left before they went home.

"Who, then? Someone I know?" she asked eagerly. He sighed again. Katie reminded him of Lavender when it came to gossip. If she caught wind of something interesting, she wouldn't let up until she got to the bottom of it. This did not bode well for the rest of his day.

Sure enough, Katie did not let the topic go. They soon stopped dancing and claimed a table in a secluded corner, where she quickly erected a privacy ward so she could keep trying to wheedle a straight answer out of him. She wasn't overly pushy about it like Hermione could be but it was still agitating him.

"Would you please just drop it?" he said hotly. He hadn't meant to snap at her, and his temper cooled somewhat when he saw the shock and hurt on her face. "Sorry. It's just something I'd rather not talk about."

"Understood," she said, smiling sheepishly. "You can ask me embarrassing questions about my love life if it'll make you feel better."

"That's okay," he said quickly. That may have been the one thing he wanted to discuss even less than his infatuation with her.

"Probably for the best." She sighed wearily and took a small sip of her drink. "I'm not doing any better than you are." That made Harry feel better for a moment, which in turn made him feel guilty.

"I find that hard to believe," he said as he attempted to stave off his guilt by complimenting her. "Between our dear friend Darren, your legions of male fans and that horny bastard Finwick, it seems like you need to start carrying around a beater's bat to fight off all the guys that want you."

"Exactly!" she exclaimed, shoving her beer away angrily. "The only guys who show any interest are pricks like that! Why don't any nice guys ever hit on me?"

Harry was taken aback by the direction this conversation had gone. Being with Katie was usually lighthearted and fun; she certainly never spoke about stuff like this with him. The only thing he could think of was to blame it on the alcohol, even if neither of them had consumed enough to get well and truly sloshed. Whatever the case, hearing her lament her lack of appealing options threw him for a loop. With her beauty and personality, it seemed like she should have her pick of any bloke she wanted. He'd always assumed that the only reason she'd never had a serious boyfriend in all the time he'd known her was that she simply didn't want one.

"Maybe it's because you're too fun to be around," he suggested. She snorted derisively, and he shook his head. "No, I'm serious," he said insistently. Suddenly it was very important to him that he make her see just how desirable she was. "Maybe there are guys out there who want you, but don't say a word because they're too afraid of being rejected and losing you from their lives altogether."

Katie's eyebrows furrowed in thought for a moment, and then her eyes widened and her mouth hung open in shock. It took Harry's brain a few moments to catch up with what he'd said, and once it did he cursed himself for his stupidity. Even if he wasn't drunk the alcohol must be dulling his brain somewhat if he'd been foolish enough to throw out a line like that minutes after mentioning his crush on a friend. She wasn't nearly intoxicated enough not to make the obvious connection.

"Wow...shit, Harry, I had no idea," she said slowly.

"No, wait, I didn't mean..." he began, shaking his head. She waved him off dismissively.

"I'm not stupid, Harry," she huffed. "How long?"

"This is what I wanted to avoid." He took his glasses off and set them aside so he could rub his hands over his face. "Now you're going to be upset with me, and things are going to get weird between us."

"I'm only going to be upset with you if you don't answer the question." Katie gently pulled his hands away from his face and slipped his glasses back on. He tried to stare down at the table so he could avoid what was sure to be a look of either pity or anger, but she was having none of it.

"Harry, please look at me." She didn't sound angry, so he braced himself for pity as he reluctantly complied. "How long have you fancied me?" she asked softly. Whatever emotion she was displaying, he was reasonably sure it wasn't pity. He felt his throat tighten as he desperately tried to keep himself from hoping.

"Nearly a year now," he finally admitted, to her surprise.

"I see," she said simply. "It must've been rough to spend so much time around me and have to hide your feelings."

"A bit," he said with a wry smile. "It wasn't nearly as bad as it'll be now that the secret's out."

"And why is that?" she said in challenge.

"Because now things are going to awkward as hell every time we're around each other, obviously." She shook her head and laughed at him.

"Oh, you adorable idiot," she said, still laughing. "Even if I didn't feel the same way about you, I never would've stopped being your friend because of something you have no control over." Harry had been trying to formulate a plan to leave this bar with whatever shreds of dignity he could hold onto, but then he processed what she'd just said.

"Wait, if you didn't? Does that mean...?"

"Yes, Harry. I want to be with you too." She dazzled him with the bright smile that always made his day, but it was nothing compared to the impact those seven words had on him. He was tempted to pinch himself to make sure he hadn't slipped off into dream land, because it didn't seem possible that this could actually be happening. His disbelief must have been plain to see on his face because she giggled as he just stared at her silently.

"If you've only started having feelings for me in the last year, you're new to the party," she said, breaking the silence at last. "I've had a thing for you since we were still in Hogwarts."

"That long?!" he half-shouted. Half the bar would have heard him plain as day if she hadn't put up that privacy ward earlier.

"Well, sort of," she amended. "It was more of a schoolgirl crush back then, first because you were the 'Boy-Who-Lived', and then because you were a nice, cute boy and a great flier. I grew out of that as I got older, but then we reconnected when you joined the Tornados and I fell for the man you've become."

Though he'd experienced more trauma and tragedy than most see in a lifetime, Harry's life hadn't been totally rotten. There had plenty of good alongside the bad, from meeting lifelong friends Ron and Hermione to his first broom ride to learning beyond all doubt that his parents loved him and were watching over him. He wasn't sure if he'd ever before felt the sheer euphoria of this moment.

"Are you going to say something, or are you going to sit there and stare at me for the rest of the night?" she teased.

"Sitting and staring doesn't sound so bad," he quipped, making her laugh again. "It's hard to believe this is actually happening."

"It could've happened a lot sooner if you hadn't been so damn good at hiding your feelings, you prat." She smiled to assure him that she was only teasing.

"And what about you?" he returned. "You've been interested in me even longer, and you never gave me any clue how you were feeling." Katie laughed and shook her head.

"Oh, you silly boy. I've been flirting with you for years."

"No you haven't!" His protest made her roll her eyes and sigh.

"Trust me, I have," she insisted. "I got blatantly obvious about it after a while too, to the point even Oliver "quidditch 24/7" Wood noticed and brought it up with me, though of course he only brought it up to warn me not to distract his star seeker. No matter how much I practically threw myself at you though, you never treated me as anything more than a teammate or a friend. I figured that you weren't interested and pretty much gave up on ever landing you, but the flirting was too much fun to stop."

Had he really been so oblivious to her all this time? Yes, she had always been friendly with him. She'd always greeted him with a bright smile and fun banter, leaned in close and touched his arm when they were chatting, but wasn't that just her personality? Wasn't she like that with everyone, or at least everyone she considered a friend? Or was he just a clueless idiot?

"Regardless, none of that matters now," she said, interrupting his musing. "You want me, I want you, and we both know it. So what are we going to do about it?"

"There are a lot of things I'd like to do about it," he said. "Tomorrow I'd like to take you out to a nice dinner. When we go back home I'd like to take you on dates and get to know you even better and meet your parents and all of that stuff."

"This is sounding pretty serious for something that's about two minutes old," she said thoughtfully. He panicked, wondering if he'd pushed too hard too fast, but then she smiled widely at him. "I like it. But you're talking about what you want to do in the future. That's great, and I very much want you in my future too, but what about tonight? What do you want to do about this tonight?"

Katie leaned in very close to him, her pouty pink lips parted. Harry needed no further invitation to lean his head in the rest of the way and kiss her for the first time.

His first kiss with Ginny had seemed passionate at the time, but that had been the passion of a teenage romance. This was something else altogether, something raw and hungry. He couldn't get enough of her, would never be able to get enough of her taste.

Despite having craved this moment for so long, he still felt awkward about kissing her so urgently in the middle of a bar. He broke the kiss and pulled back ever so slightly so he could look at her beautiful face. All the desire he was feeling was reflected right back at him. Knowing that she was feeling this too only made him crave her more.

"What do I want to do tonight?" His voice was uncharacteristically low, almost gravelly. "I want to take you back to the hotel, get those jeans off and spend the rest of the night tasting you."

"Ooh, I like the sound of that," she said breathlessly. "There's one change I'd like to make though."

"What's that?"

"I'm sure we'd have all kinds of fun at the hotel, but I'm hoping to spend our first night somewhere a little more adventurous."

V.

Many of the happiest moments in Harry's life had come on the quidditch pitch. He already knew this one was going to be added to the list, though thankfully there weren't any spectators around to watch this time.

Katie hadn't been kidding about wanting to celebrate their new relationship somewhere adventurous. It had only been a handful of hours ago that he'd narrowly beaten Rodgers to the snitch above this very spot. Now he was lying on the grass, watching with excitement and more than a little frustration as Katie leisurely pleasured him with her mouth.

He'd learned two things over the past few minutes. One, Katie was exceptionally skilled with her mouth; the best he'd been with without question. Two, she was a shameless tease. She would effortlessly drive him right to the edge, only to pull back and deny him release. At one point he got frustrated and moved his hands to her head to hold her in place. She glared up at him and gave his shaft an uncomfortably firm squeeze, and he'd gotten the message loud and clear. He'd been silently enduring this exquisite torture ever since, but he could take no more.

"Katie, please," he begged. The wicked gleam in her eyes told him this was what she'd been waiting for all along. The teasing abruptly stopped and she devoted herself completely to getting him off. If he'd been impressed with her skill before it was nothing compared to this. She bobbed on him without any hint of a gag reflex, and her hands gently fondled his sensitive bollocks. He only had time to manage a strangled gasp before she accomplished her task, but to his relief she didn't look angry about the lack of warning. Her eyes were locked on his as she swallowed everything he gave her without complaint, and in his view she looked rather pleased with herself. Only after she'd swallowed every last drop did she pull her head back. She wiped her lips with the back of her hand and then nodded as if she'd come to a decision.

"I wouldn't mind doing that for you again sometime," she declared. "As long as you got the message about not pulling my hair, that is."

"I did," he was quick to say. "It won't happen again. Even if you are a tease."

"You know you love it," she said, giggling. He shrugged as he watched her get off of her knees and back to her feet.

"I guess I can take the teasing if that's how it ends," he said, remaining supine on the grass as he recovered from his high. "But what I'd love right now is to get you out of those jeans and return the favor."

"Ooh, I like the sound of that!" she purred. "Though I'm not sure how you're going to manage that if you don't get your lazy arse up off the grass."

"That is a dilemma," he said dramatically. "I want to taste you, but I don't want to move. This pitch is surprisingly comfortable."

"You figured out a way to defeat Voldemort. I'm sure you can come up with something." He thought it over for a moment and snapped his fingers when a solution presented itself.

"I know! You can sit on my face." Katie looked surprised by the suggestion.

"Who knew the hero of the wizarding world was so submissive? I don't hate it." She unceremoniously stripped off her jeans, jumper and undergarments, baring her body fully to him for the first time.

"That was the worst striptease ever," he teased. It was true that she hadn't put any effort into seductively undressing for him, but he still very much liked what he saw. She worked hard to stay in prime condition for quidditch, and it showed. He found his eyes drawn to her visible abs and muscled legs nearly as much as her firm breasts. Then she gave a little twirl and his gaze automatically drifted lower.

"Yes, I'm sure that must have been such a bore for you." She sighed dramatically while giving her bum a little wiggle, and then a light spank. "But I've done enough teasing for the night. It's time to get serious."

Harry was transfixed by the sight of Katie shuffling into position over his face. His hands went to her toned bum, massaging and squeezing her cheeks. Much as she had when she first brought him back to the pitch, it didn't take long for her to assume control. She fisted his hair in her hands and rocked her hips against him insistently. He wasn't usually anywhere near this passive during his sexual encounters, but he found himself more than happy to let her run the show. Perhaps this submissive side had been within him all along, waiting for someone like Katie to come along and bring it out of him.

She was in control, but he was still getting a chance to show her that she wasn't the only one in this relationship who took pride in their oral skill. He experimented a bit, varying patterns and techniques and paying close attention to how she responded, committing it all to memory for what he hoped would be many years of repeat performances. Judging by the way she moaned and cursed above him, she was enjoying this nearly as much as he was. He couldn't wait until they had more experience together and learned exactly what drove the other crazy.

"Oh shit, that's it, Harry. Just a little more." That breathless exclamation from his new lover pleased him in ways he couldn't explain. He'd been falling in love (and lust as well, to be fair) with this woman for months, and knowing he had the power to make her feel this way was a heady feeling indeed. He devoted himself fully to his task so he could make these final few moments as exhilarating as possible for her.

That single-minded focus kept him from hearing the telltale pop of apparition. Fortunately for them both, Katie still had enough of her wits left to hear it and thus realize they were no longer alone.

"Damn it!" she whispered as she pulled herself to her feet and scrambled for her wand and clothes The clothes she found easily enough, but the wand was proving to be a harder find. Harry sat up in confusion and stared at her, silently waiting for an explanation. "Someone else is here!" she hissed over her shoulder when she realized he didn't share her sense of urgency. "Grab your clothes and wand!"

That got him moving. He grabbed his wand and summoned his clothes. At that very moment a heavyset middle-aged man came into view. The man had been leisurely walking along the pitch, but froze when he saw the two quidditch players. Katie screeched and turned away hastily, unknowingly giving the interloper a prime view of her arse. She had managed to slip her knickers back on while continuing to search for her wand, but the flimsy red silk left little to the imagination.

While holding his own clothing in front of his lower regions, Harry chivalrously stepped in front of Katie to shield her from the man's view. He was mortified as he met the dumbfounded man's eyes, doubly so when he realized Birch had introduced this man to him less than 24 hours ago at a formal dinner. He couldn't recall his name, but he was an important figure in American qudditch and one of the officials who'd helped oversee today's exhibition.

Harry blushed and cleared his throat awkwardly as he tried to think of something to say, but was spared the effort when Katie grabbed him by the arm and apparated the both of them to safety.

VI.

Harry was so preoccupied with trying to process everything that had just happened that he stumbled upon arrival and might have landed flat on his face if Katie hadn't looped her arm through his. He blearily took in his surroundings, finding himself in a hotel room much like his own except with a much nicer-looking bed. That plus the Tornados uniform slung over a chair made it pretty clear that Katie had brought them back to her own hotel room.

He exhaled a deep, shaky breath. His adrenaline was still pumping as he struggled to recover from that hasty escape, and he was just about to suggest that they have another drink to calm their nerves when Katie threw her arms around his neck and kissed him. They had shared several great kisses already tonight, but this one was the most heated by orders of magnitude. It was all he could do to keep up.

"Bloody hell," he panted when she finally released him from her forceful liplock. "What's got you so--"

"Fuck me," she growled, leaning in to nip at his throat.

"Really?" he said dumbly, stunned that she seemed to be even more worked up after being discovered.

Rather than answer him verbally, she yanked his clothes out of his hands and tossed them across the room. Her knickers joined the pile, and she was nude once more. She stood there with her hands on her hips and stared at him in challenge.

"Uh, okay," he said with a nod. If he hadn't already known his girlfriend was sexually adventurous when she chose to take him to the pitch, this would've made the point quite clear. Seeing just how excited the whole incident got her was exciting him in turn, and now that he'd had a chance to recover from his initial panic he was eager to pick up where they'd left off. "How do you want it?"

"I've been in control so far tonight. Now it's your turn. You can have me however you want, wherever you want--just fuck me!"

He doubted any heterosexual male would be able to resist such a passionate plea from a beautiful woman. Without any further delay he lifted her up by her arse. She grinned and hooked her legs around his waist, allowing him to carry her across the room and hold her up against the wall.

Shagging against a wall was a new experience for Harry, but if Katie wanted him to take charge that's exactly what he was going to do. There was nothing gentle about the way he took her. It was rough, it was fast, and it was bloody amazing. She seemed to agree, as she moaned loudly with each thrust. Hopefully the guests in the next room over were currently out celebrating their Christmas elsewhere, because Katie's passionate moans and the thumping of her body against the wall was hardly a proper holiday soundtrack. On the other hand, Celestina Warbeck could eat her heart out as far as Harry was concerned.

A position like that was not built to last, so he reluctantly set her down sooner than he would have liked. He was far from done with her, however. He took her by the hand and led her over to the bed.

"Get on your hands and knees, love," he commanded. Katie, normally such a strong personality, happily complied. Harry shuffled into place behind her and slid home once again, making them both moan. He set a brisk pace, and in short order she was again moaning in satisfaction and urging him to take her even harder. He thought about warning her not to get too loud and risk someone overhearing (if they hadn't already), but then realized that the idea would probably only excite her.

He wasn't sure whether that should scare him or turn him on. But now that he finally had Katie Bell in his bed (or her bed, as the case may be) after months of pining, he wasn't about to let go of this funny, charming, outgoing, sexy, kinky goddess.

VII.

"Happy Christmas, Harry! And congratulations; I heard you won."

"Happy Christmas, Hermione, and thank you." Harry smiled as he looked at the face of one of his oldest and dearest friends in the new and improved version of Sirius' two-way mirror that she'd created herself. "Christmas is already over for both of us though."

"I know," she said with a frown. "I meant to call yesterday, but I was with my parents all day and lost track of time."

"Don't worry about it. I'm glad you had a good time with your parents."

"I really did! Paris is lovely any time of year, let alone at Christmas. I missed seeing you and Ron though."

"I missed you guys too," he responded. She gave him a sympathetic look.

"It's a shame you're stuck in Salem. I've been there myself and it's a perfectly nice place, but you should have been able to spend the holiday with your family and friends." He was going to object and say that he didn't have any family, but she and Ron might as well have been his blood siblings, and there was Teddy as well. Instead he smiled and shrugged.

"I wasn't happy about it at first, but it wound up being the best Christmas I've ever had," he said truthfully. She could tell that he wasn't exaggerating, and she raised her eyebrows in surprise.

"I know you were unhappy about this when you were first told, so that's very good to hear. What did you do on Christmas that has you--"

Hermione gasped in mid-sentence and froze in shock. Her cheeks went bright red, and Harry narrowed his eyes at her sudden change of mood.

"What's wrong, Hermione? What's happened?" He was initially afraid that something had happened on her end, but she seemed to be staring at something over his shoulder. He turned his head and immediately saw what had his friend so flummoxed.

Katie, who had been out like a light since their marathon sex session ended hours earlier, had finally awoken. She'd kicked the covers off of her body and was sitting up in bed behind him, in full view for Hermione thanks to the improvements and expansions she'd made on the original mirror design. Oh, and she was still naked.

"Err..." he said into the mirror, not really sure what to say to his friend. Hermione, though still flustered, recovered enough to stammer out a hasty goodbye before she disconnected their mirrors. Harry could only chuckle. After their little rendezvous at the pitch the previous day this was practically tame.

"What was that?" Katie asked sleepily. He turned around fully and let his eyes roam her body appreciatively. He was far too exhausted to actually do anything about it, but that didn't mean he couldn't look.

"Oh, just Hermione seeing you naked while we were chatting," he said casually. "You seem to be making a habit of public nudity."

"We should sell tickets," she said as she stretched her arms over her head. "I bet that little show the two of us put on yesterday would bring in way more fans than any silly quidditch match. We could even charge more for audience participation!" Harry frowned for a moment, but his fears were eased when she saw him smirking teasingly at him.

"Not a chance, Bell. You may be an insatiable pervert, but you're my insatiable pervert."