Pucey, Katie realized, was going to be terribly obnoxious about this. He was clearly trying to get them all to be [I]friends[/I]. Katie pulled a face at him as he slung an arm across her shoulders. Of the three, she was the shortest. Pucey only had a couple of inches on her, but Flint easily stood a head taller than her. It pissed her off, irrationally she knew, but still. It was desperately unfair. Marcus had apparently hit another growth spurt since leaving Hogwarts, and Quidditch had clearly done him great favors for his physique. And he'd gotten his fucking teeth fixed. If he hadn't still possessed that arrogant, douchey attitude, she might not have recognized him. He was definitely not attractive though, she reassured herself. Definitely not.

It was still fucking [I]rude[/I] of him to have upgraded from troll status. He had the audacity to have grown into a man. Katie still got mistaken for a Hogwarts student sometimes, short and petite as she was. Although training with the Falcons had given her strength, she was often dwarfed by other players. Fenrir had commented that she had a seeker's build, but admitted that she made a better chaser after seeing her play. She loved being in the thick of things, fighting every bit as viciously as her teammates.

Sometimes Katie wondered if the cursed necklace had stunted whatever growing she'd had left to do those three awful years ago. Maybe she would have been taller, would have looked older by now, would be taken more seriously. So many people underestimated her. It pissed her off.

One thing that she did know--her fucking leg wouldn't hurt all the damn time if Draco Fucking Malfoy hadn't nearly killed her with his stupid fucking necklace. That he wasn't in Azkaban still pissed her off. He'd used an Unforgivable on her, had stolen her free will to try and kill Albus Dumbledore, had nearly killed her, had nearly ruined her dreams of Quidditch. She wanted nothing more than to hex him six ways to next Tuesday. Or punch him. Definitely punch him.

Pucey's voice derailed Katie's maudlin train of thought. The scowl twisting her features faded slightly as she looked up at her friend. It still felt weird sometimes, thinking of Pucey as a mate. He'd never been too horrible to her in school, or on the pitch, but he'd been a Slytherin and they'd kept to their own back in those days. 

"Well," she purred, batting her eyelashes as over-exaggeratedly as she could manage, "Since [I]you're[/I] asking, Pucey-Poo, how could I say no?"

Pucey's bark of laughter made her lips curve into a shit-eating grin. She liked that about him--he gave her shit, but he could take it in return. There was no malice in his teasing, no resentment. Not for her, at least. She'd seen him rip people to shreds before, always with a charming smile on his face. She'd asked him about it, once, when they'd had a little too much fire whiskey after a long night of practise. [I]You're one of mine,[/I] he'd said, giving her a strange look, like this was as obvious as the sun. [I]Everyone else can fuck right off.[/I]

"Be still my heart," Pucey mock swooned, forcing Flint and her to support his weight for a moment. Katie made a sound of annoyance, forcing the blond idiot back to his feet, but she was grinning brightly. "Don't do that to me, it's unfair. You know I can't resist you."

"Shut it, you twat," Katie rolled her eyes, pushing away from him. Pucey rolled his head over to look up at Flint, his most charming grin in place.

"Well, that's settled. C'mon, lets get these contracts signed so we can make this celebration official. Leaky Cauldron at seven?" He looked back to Katie, who waved a hand almost dismissively.

"I'll be there. For now, I need to wash your stink off of me, you disgusting git."

"Ooh, I like it when you talk dirty to me," Pucey was laughing again, steering Flint off to the cheery sound of Katie's "fuck you!"