FIC: Judgmental Bell (6/6) (Zacharias Smith/Katie Bell)
Title: Judgmental Bell (6/6)
Author/Artist: dovingbird
Characters: Zacharias Smith/Katie Bell
Prompt number: 22
Word Count: 11,926
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Rated for language.
Summary: Katie Bell's finally snagged a spot on the starting line-up on the Wimbourne Wasps! But her excitement wanes at the appearance of the new transfer to the team: the one and only Zacharias Smith. How in Merlin's name can she cope playing beside the biggest git Hufflepuff has ever seen, especially when he seems bizarrely determined to prove to her that he's changed?
Disclaimer: I do not own anything relating to the world of Harry Potter at all, nor do I own this prompt. These all belong to their respective owners and authors. The only thing that I own are all of the words on these pages and the OCs therein.
Author’s Notes: Thanks to my wonderful boyfriend for being my beta on this piece! I hope everyone enjoys my first Harry Potter fanfic.
Chapter Six
It was remarkable how quickly positions could be reversed, Katie reflected as she strolled down the hallway of the inn. She’d been out of the infirmary for less than a week and already she was considering going back if it kept her from doing this. But as the goosebumps prickled up and down her arms, she simply lifted her chin a little higher, called up that residual Gryffindor courage, and stayed the course.
By the time she’d reached door number 107, there was no going back. She knocked.
There was a general scuffle behind the voice and two loud male voices calling back and forth to each other before the door opened and Weaver appeared. His eyes widened as they flicked over her. “Er…mate, I think this one’s for you.”
All right, so Elizabeth had insisted on picking out her wardrobe so that her trim, nearly curveless figure wasn’t completely swallowed by the comfortable things from her muggle mother that Katie had brought for training and the game, but the push-up bra had been completely unnecessary. Katie cleared her throat and pulled the collar of her robes a little closer around her to hide the beginnings of cleavage just before Smith popped his head around the corner. He blinked. “Bell?”
“Hello Weaver, Smith.” She nodded to both of them with a smile, rubbing her arm awkwardly. “Weaver, can you, uh, scoot for a second?”
“But don’t you need a chaperone?”
Smith smacked Weaver upside the head, and he lumbered away rubbing it with a pout. When Smith draped himself against the doorframe again and cocked an eyebrow at Katie, she licked her lips in anxiety. “Yeah? What’s up, Bell?”
She reflected that it was a little harder to have this talk when Smith was wearing that tank top and pair of cargo shorts like it was nothing, like he didn’t have absolutely fantastic calves or toned forearms or broad shoulders or any of that, but hey, whatever. She’d make it through like she always did. “I was, uh, going downstairs to the bar for some drinks and wondered if you wanted to come,” she offered.
This time Smith’s eyebrows nearly plunged into his hairline. “Wait, what?”
Somewhere in the background Katie heard a snort, and she scowled over Smith’s shoulder before she nodded. “Yeah. Got a craving for some firewhiskey?”
“Bloody…” Smith chuckled. “All right, Bell, you’ve got yourself a deal. Let me go throw on some robes.” He disappeared into the room and left Katie out in the hallway. The fates didn’t intend her to be alone for very long, however, because Weaver suddenly poked his head out of the bathroom and grinned cheekily at her. “Do I need to go get cozy with Elizabeth for the night and leave the room here vacant?”
“You are a bloody bastard!” She touched her wand and glared. “I swear to Merlin, Weaver, if I see a single Extendable Ear down there in the dining room…”
His hands flew into the air. “All right, all right, I give. But only because you’ve got a nasty Itching Hex.”
“Your balls are mine if there’s any funny business, I mean it.”
Smith grabbed Weaver by the collar and pulled him back into the room. “What’s all this, then? Harassing the invalid when she’s just barely out of the infirmary?”
“This invalid,” Katie muttered, “can still out drink you.”
“I’ll be the judge of that.” He gave her a cheeky smirk before he gave Weaver a cheerful little chin pop. “Be back in a bit, mate.”
The walk to the dining area felt more like the long path to the executioner’s platform for Katie. Normally she could converse at the drop of a hat, but here, with the man she’d only recently sworn to hate for the rest of her life? She risked a glance up at him, tracing the sharp angles of his face down to the thin lips he wore in a small smile. This was a little harder than she thought. But she cleared her throat, and Smith looked at her with a quirked eyebrow. “I’m paying tonight. Just so you know.”
Smith balked. “Are you serious? Come on, Bell, there’s no need for…for…” He felt his robes in confusion, hands sliding over every pocket sewn into it, before he chuckled. “I, uh…think I left my wallet in-”
“Don’t worry about it.” As they swept into the dining area, Katie led the way to the bar and leaned over it. “Excuse me? A butterbeer and a…” She looked toward Smith.
“Firewhiskey. Just a shot.”
“Three shots,” Katie amended, answering Smith’s accusatory glare with a grin of her own. “Hey. I’m paying.”
By the time that they were situated at a table with their drinks, one of the shots having been stolen by Katie, Smith seemed far more willing to talk. “So what’s the occasion, Bell?” he chirped, swirling the firewhiskey carefully around in the shot glass before he took a sip.
Katie shrugged as she nursed her own butterbeer. “Thought I’d thank you for saving my life, for one.”
“Not even, c‘mon. The referees would’ve slowed your fall.”
“Then I’m taking that other shot for you making us lose the game,” she murmured, linking a finger around it, but Smith leaned forward without hesitation and flicked her finger until she let the glass go with a laugh.
Smith leaned forward across the table and dug his elbows into the wood. “Well, I mean, what do you want? An apology for making sure you didn’t crack your skull even more on the ground? Come on, Bell, like I was just gonna sit back and watch that happen.”
“No, that’s not what I want…”
“Let it out, then. There’s something on your mind. Don’t bother trying to hide it.”
She shot him a mock glare before she set her butterbeer down and studied her nails. “I don’t know, I’m just…reconsidering some initial judgments I made, that’s all.”
Smith’s side of the table was so quiet that Katie found herself wondering if he was the victim of some long-distance Silencing Charm. But when she turned her eyes up and met his own, she felt her stomach twist into knots at the sight of the intense, focused stare he was giving her. “Is that so?” he murmured, and Katie wanted to slap him for the way that his voice fell just an inch lower in timbre until it was like melted treacle sliding down her throat.
She licked her lips nervously before she shrugged. “I-I mean, I…really treated you like…” She waited for Smith to interrupt her, but the problem with talking to a former Hufflepuff was that generally they were patient enough to wait while you bumbled on like an idiot. Eventually she shook her head while her cheeks flamed. “I was…the real git here, Smith, let’s just be honest.”
He threw his head back and laughed, and Katie looked up at him in surprise. “Merlin‘s balls! I think that’s the first time a Gryffindor’s ever admitted she was wrong about something.”
“All right, I can still hex your gonads off, let’s remember that.”
“Oh, but Katie,” he said softly, leaning closer until the musky scent of his cologne wafted gently around her and made her eyes go unfocused. “That’d ruin half the fun of this whole relationship, don’t you think?” If she was blushing before, now her cheeks were about to spontaneously combust. Smith flashed her a toothy grin like the mischievous badger that represented his former house as he slowly tilted his head to the side. When he scooped up his shot of firewhiskey and lifted it toward her, he lifted his chin and, for a moment, looked just like the proud git of Hogwarts that she remembered so well. “To Quidditch. To winning the next World Cup with goals by Smith and Bell. And to false judgments.”
Katie clinked her butterbeer against his glass with a smile. “That I can drink to.”
With an empty shot glass and a half-full mug sitting between them, Smith tented his hands and touched them to his lips. “Can I see you again?”
Katie laughed. “Smith, you’ll be seeing me every bloody day for training and games until the season’s over.”
“No, I mean, can I see you again?” There that intensity was once more, searing her skin and sending a frog into her throat. “Just the two of us?”
She gulped down the frog and reminded her stomach that it wasn’t allowed to flip-flop right out of her skin. “I’d…I’d like that.”
“Ta, that’s what I like to hear.” Smith grinned at her before he leaned across the table and pressed a chaste kiss to her lips, not even a second long. By the time that he’d leaned back and scooped up the second shot glass, Katie’s smile was permanently glued to her face. “To potential and eventual and inevitable riotous and enthusiastic and competitive sexual relations.”
“Oh, you’re still a bastard!” But she laughed and lifted her stolen shot glass and clicked it against his own, sending him a smolder worthy of a lioness.
Chapter Five
Author/Artist: dovingbird
Characters: Zacharias Smith/Katie Bell
Prompt number: 22
Word Count: 11,926
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Rated for language.
Summary: Katie Bell's finally snagged a spot on the starting line-up on the Wimbourne Wasps! But her excitement wanes at the appearance of the new transfer to the team: the one and only Zacharias Smith. How in Merlin's name can she cope playing beside the biggest git Hufflepuff has ever seen, especially when he seems bizarrely determined to prove to her that he's changed?
Disclaimer: I do not own anything relating to the world of Harry Potter at all, nor do I own this prompt. These all belong to their respective owners and authors. The only thing that I own are all of the words on these pages and the OCs therein.
Author’s Notes: Thanks to my wonderful boyfriend for being my beta on this piece! I hope everyone enjoys my first Harry Potter fanfic.
Chapter Six
It was remarkable how quickly positions could be reversed, Katie reflected as she strolled down the hallway of the inn. She’d been out of the infirmary for less than a week and already she was considering going back if it kept her from doing this. But as the goosebumps prickled up and down her arms, she simply lifted her chin a little higher, called up that residual Gryffindor courage, and stayed the course.
By the time she’d reached door number 107, there was no going back. She knocked.
There was a general scuffle behind the voice and two loud male voices calling back and forth to each other before the door opened and Weaver appeared. His eyes widened as they flicked over her. “Er…mate, I think this one’s for you.”
All right, so Elizabeth had insisted on picking out her wardrobe so that her trim, nearly curveless figure wasn’t completely swallowed by the comfortable things from her muggle mother that Katie had brought for training and the game, but the push-up bra had been completely unnecessary. Katie cleared her throat and pulled the collar of her robes a little closer around her to hide the beginnings of cleavage just before Smith popped his head around the corner. He blinked. “Bell?”
“Hello Weaver, Smith.” She nodded to both of them with a smile, rubbing her arm awkwardly. “Weaver, can you, uh, scoot for a second?”
“But don’t you need a chaperone?”
Smith smacked Weaver upside the head, and he lumbered away rubbing it with a pout. When Smith draped himself against the doorframe again and cocked an eyebrow at Katie, she licked her lips in anxiety. “Yeah? What’s up, Bell?”
She reflected that it was a little harder to have this talk when Smith was wearing that tank top and pair of cargo shorts like it was nothing, like he didn’t have absolutely fantastic calves or toned forearms or broad shoulders or any of that, but hey, whatever. She’d make it through like she always did. “I was, uh, going downstairs to the bar for some drinks and wondered if you wanted to come,” she offered.
This time Smith’s eyebrows nearly plunged into his hairline. “Wait, what?”
Somewhere in the background Katie heard a snort, and she scowled over Smith’s shoulder before she nodded. “Yeah. Got a craving for some firewhiskey?”
“Bloody…” Smith chuckled. “All right, Bell, you’ve got yourself a deal. Let me go throw on some robes.” He disappeared into the room and left Katie out in the hallway. The fates didn’t intend her to be alone for very long, however, because Weaver suddenly poked his head out of the bathroom and grinned cheekily at her. “Do I need to go get cozy with Elizabeth for the night and leave the room here vacant?”
“You are a bloody bastard!” She touched her wand and glared. “I swear to Merlin, Weaver, if I see a single Extendable Ear down there in the dining room…”
His hands flew into the air. “All right, all right, I give. But only because you’ve got a nasty Itching Hex.”
“Your balls are mine if there’s any funny business, I mean it.”
Smith grabbed Weaver by the collar and pulled him back into the room. “What’s all this, then? Harassing the invalid when she’s just barely out of the infirmary?”
“This invalid,” Katie muttered, “can still out drink you.”
“I’ll be the judge of that.” He gave her a cheeky smirk before he gave Weaver a cheerful little chin pop. “Be back in a bit, mate.”
The walk to the dining area felt more like the long path to the executioner’s platform for Katie. Normally she could converse at the drop of a hat, but here, with the man she’d only recently sworn to hate for the rest of her life? She risked a glance up at him, tracing the sharp angles of his face down to the thin lips he wore in a small smile. This was a little harder than she thought. But she cleared her throat, and Smith looked at her with a quirked eyebrow. “I’m paying tonight. Just so you know.”
Smith balked. “Are you serious? Come on, Bell, there’s no need for…for…” He felt his robes in confusion, hands sliding over every pocket sewn into it, before he chuckled. “I, uh…think I left my wallet in-”
“Don’t worry about it.” As they swept into the dining area, Katie led the way to the bar and leaned over it. “Excuse me? A butterbeer and a…” She looked toward Smith.
“Firewhiskey. Just a shot.”
“Three shots,” Katie amended, answering Smith’s accusatory glare with a grin of her own. “Hey. I’m paying.”
By the time that they were situated at a table with their drinks, one of the shots having been stolen by Katie, Smith seemed far more willing to talk. “So what’s the occasion, Bell?” he chirped, swirling the firewhiskey carefully around in the shot glass before he took a sip.
Katie shrugged as she nursed her own butterbeer. “Thought I’d thank you for saving my life, for one.”
“Not even, c‘mon. The referees would’ve slowed your fall.”
“Then I’m taking that other shot for you making us lose the game,” she murmured, linking a finger around it, but Smith leaned forward without hesitation and flicked her finger until she let the glass go with a laugh.
Smith leaned forward across the table and dug his elbows into the wood. “Well, I mean, what do you want? An apology for making sure you didn’t crack your skull even more on the ground? Come on, Bell, like I was just gonna sit back and watch that happen.”
“No, that’s not what I want…”
“Let it out, then. There’s something on your mind. Don’t bother trying to hide it.”
She shot him a mock glare before she set her butterbeer down and studied her nails. “I don’t know, I’m just…reconsidering some initial judgments I made, that’s all.”
Smith’s side of the table was so quiet that Katie found herself wondering if he was the victim of some long-distance Silencing Charm. But when she turned her eyes up and met his own, she felt her stomach twist into knots at the sight of the intense, focused stare he was giving her. “Is that so?” he murmured, and Katie wanted to slap him for the way that his voice fell just an inch lower in timbre until it was like melted treacle sliding down her throat.
She licked her lips nervously before she shrugged. “I-I mean, I…really treated you like…” She waited for Smith to interrupt her, but the problem with talking to a former Hufflepuff was that generally they were patient enough to wait while you bumbled on like an idiot. Eventually she shook her head while her cheeks flamed. “I was…the real git here, Smith, let’s just be honest.”
He threw his head back and laughed, and Katie looked up at him in surprise. “Merlin‘s balls! I think that’s the first time a Gryffindor’s ever admitted she was wrong about something.”
“All right, I can still hex your gonads off, let’s remember that.”
“Oh, but Katie,” he said softly, leaning closer until the musky scent of his cologne wafted gently around her and made her eyes go unfocused. “That’d ruin half the fun of this whole relationship, don’t you think?” If she was blushing before, now her cheeks were about to spontaneously combust. Smith flashed her a toothy grin like the mischievous badger that represented his former house as he slowly tilted his head to the side. When he scooped up his shot of firewhiskey and lifted it toward her, he lifted his chin and, for a moment, looked just like the proud git of Hogwarts that she remembered so well. “To Quidditch. To winning the next World Cup with goals by Smith and Bell. And to false judgments.”
Katie clinked her butterbeer against his glass with a smile. “That I can drink to.”
With an empty shot glass and a half-full mug sitting between them, Smith tented his hands and touched them to his lips. “Can I see you again?”
Katie laughed. “Smith, you’ll be seeing me every bloody day for training and games until the season’s over.”
“No, I mean, can I see you again?” There that intensity was once more, searing her skin and sending a frog into her throat. “Just the two of us?”
She gulped down the frog and reminded her stomach that it wasn’t allowed to flip-flop right out of her skin. “I’d…I’d like that.”
“Ta, that’s what I like to hear.” Smith grinned at her before he leaned across the table and pressed a chaste kiss to her lips, not even a second long. By the time that he’d leaned back and scooped up the second shot glass, Katie’s smile was permanently glued to her face. “To potential and eventual and inevitable riotous and enthusiastic and competitive sexual relations.”
“Oh, you’re still a bastard!” But she laughed and lifted her stolen shot glass and clicked it against his own, sending him a smolder worthy of a lioness.
Chapter Five