FIC: Judgmental Bell (4/6) (Zacharias Smith/Katie Bell)
Title: Judgmental Bell (4/6)
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 Four
Standing there beneath the sun as it beat down upon her only made Katie feel even more nervous. She stared straight ahead in the line of Quidditch players, watching the referees gather together the various Quidditch balls in preparation for releasing and let her eyes slowly slide toward Oliver Wood. The Wimbourne coach was pacing the sidelines already, albeit slowly and with his hands tented and pressed to his lips. He was showing remarkable restraint in comparison to some of their old Gryffindor games, that was for sure. Little five-foot-one Elizabeth, all ninety pounds of her, stood behind Katie, while Weaver’s broad shoulders hid the shorter Smith from view in front of her. As Katie let her eyes trail around the stands, she saw an overwhelming majority decked out in blue-and-gold Puddlemere colors as compared to the yellow-and-black of her robes.
She was going to be sick. She just knew it.
“You all right, Kate?” Elizabeth murmured behind her, and Katie turned her head just enough to see the older woman over her shoulder.
Katie forced a smile and nodded carefully. “Yeah. Yeah, just…just trying to get my head in the game.”
Elizabeth nodded back with an answering smile. “You’ll be fantastic. Just keep close to Weaver and Smith. They won’t lead you astray.”
There it was again, that flip-flopping stomach of nerves. Katie’s eyes fell shut as she slowly exhaled and tried to force her heart to slow down. She couldn’t promise anything, especially with that Smith character. All she could do was turn her head straight ahead again as the referees finished laying out the boxes of balls.
She mounted her broom, the entire pitch falling silent compared to the pounding in her ears. Weaver strode forward, as to be expected, and grinned to the opposing Chaser who would be fighting him for the first shot at the Quaffle. There was an uncomfortable tingling of her skin when she realized that Smith was looking at her, and she turned her head to see him. He watched her for a long silent moment before he simply dropped his chin down in a quick nod. Katie stared before blinking and looking straight ahead once more. There was no time for Smith to make her more nervous, not anymore, so screw him.
Every nerve in her body lit up with the adrenaline of a face first broomstick plunge toward the ocean…and then the whistle was blown.
Katie shot into the sky and swirled around to flank Weaver the instant that he snagged the Quaffle out of the air. She and Smith weaved around him in a circular motion, keeping their eyes out for the respective Puddlemere Chasers, but there was no reason. By the time that Weaver shot through the Chasers and sent the Quaffle flying toward the goal, their Keeper did a superb job of sending it flying with the end of his broom.
The game continued as hence. Katie realized in the midst of playing that while the Puddlemere United Chasers APPEARED to be superb, the real strength of the team in its entirety hung on the Keeper, one Rudolph Maynard of London. The man moved like bloody lightning. As the game stretched on, shot after shot after shot made by Weaver went blocked or, in a case or two, flew directly over the goals instead and was only barely snagged by a Puddlemere Chaser before it soared out of the pitch entirely.
Katie bit her bottom lip as she ducked beneath a Bludger sent flying at her torso by a Puddlemere Beater, trying desperately to keep her eye on the three Chasers. Before she knew it, they’d scored their third goal, 30-0 Puddlemere. She sent Wimbourne’s own Keeper, Bold, an irritated glare before she shook her head and soared back toward the center of the pitch once more.
There had to be a weakness. Every team had a bloody weakness! But where was theirs?
As Weaver claimed the Quaffle again for what felt like the fiftieth time, Katie’s eyes widened in understanding. The three Puddlemere Chasers and Beaters were swarming Weaver like flies on a pile of dung. They KNEW he was the most experienced out of the entire team. They could clearly see that both Katie and Smith were relying on him to score goals for this match. Hell, they’d never seen Smith even PLAY with Wimbourne before, and they’d clearly already written him off, if not herself as well.
Katie swallowed down the sudden heavy lump in her throat, leaned close to her broom, and shot ahead, trusting her Firebolt never to lead her astray.
Three-to-one leaned toward decent odds for a player like Weaver in drills, but five-to-one? Fat chance. He was being swarmed on all dimensions. That is…except for beneath him. “Weaver!” she shouted, streaking beneath the Puddlemere onslaught on the older man. Weaver didn’t even think. As if he heard exactly where her voice came from, he suddenly threw the Quaffle straight down toward the ground.
The Puddlemere team hesitated a half-second as if it was some kind of trick. It was all Katie needed. She caught the Quaffle squarely in her left palm, feeling the unmistakable suction of its gripping charm, before suddenly banking upward behind the closest Puddlemere Chaser. She narrowed her eyes at the Puddlemere Keeper and flew straight toward him.
As if summoned, the Puddlemere Seeker suddenly appeared in front of her, and Katie’s eyes widened as she banked easily to avoid him. But that simple movement cost her a fraction of a second, enough for two of the Puddlemere Chasers to swarm her. She banked again, looking for a way around, and suddenly found herself in that same five-to-one onslaught. “Bell! Bell, here!” Katie looked up and caught Zacharias Smith’s eye as he flew toward her, this time aiming above her.
No. He was NOT about to steal her glory!
She squared her chin and glared above her, her only chance of escape. When she suddenly careened toward the sky, she heard Smith’s panicked shout. “KATIE!” And then a cannonball slammed into her skull.
Katie was lucky enough to hold onto a fuzzy consciousness as she flew off of her broom and through the air, feeling her body turn into a rag doll’s as it plummeted toward the ground. She saw shape after shape flying toward her, but she somehow was falling far faster than them. She distantly wondered if they were all still flying Cleansweepers.
THUNK! “Oof!” Katie’s vision swum as she stared up at a cherubic blond man who was suddenly cradling her to his chest and apparently steering his broomstick miraculously only with his thighs. They must’ve been quite strong. Her last thought that she could recall was fancying just how handsome he was when his hard-planed face was so relaxed in sheer concern.
What brought her back to the living was a sharp throbbing in her skull. “Shite,” she groaned, squeezing her eyes as shut as she could to block out any trace of light and reaching toward her forehead.
“That’s enough out of you, lass,” an older female voice crooned to her in an Irish brogue. “We’ll have ye all fixed up here in just a moment, but ye’ve gotta lay still for me to work me magic.” Katie didn’t have a clue who that annoying voice belonged to, but she really didn’t give a bloody hell. All she knew was that she had to grab her head and make it stop hurting. There was a soft sigh before the witch spoke again. “Hold her arms for me, lass?”
Soft hands pulled Katie’s down and held them to her stomach. As much as Katie wanted to thrash, the soothing scent of rose petals wafted through her consciousness and immediately Elizabeth’s face washed past her mind’s eye. Katie relaxed her muscles with a stifled groan.
“There we are. This’ll take but a moment.” Katie became aware of the stiff point of a wand very carefully touching her forehead before it drew away. A pleasant warm and tingling sensation spread through her entire head until the throbbing died down to the barest pulse, only noticeable if she focused on it.
“Will she be all right, Nurse?”
“She’ll be fine. Needs but a day’s rest here for me to keep an eye on her, and I’ll release her shortly after.”
Oliver Wood’s familiar accent piped up around then. “How long before she flies again?”
“I’d give her about a week at the least, just to make sure there’s no lingering traces of a concussion,” the Nurse murmured, and Katie sensed other magical spells being cast in the room. A vague pain in her back and arms began to melt away like butter on a low-heated frying pan. She sighed in relief.
Chapter Three | 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 Four
Standing there beneath the sun as it beat down upon her only made Katie feel even more nervous. She stared straight ahead in the line of Quidditch players, watching the referees gather together the various Quidditch balls in preparation for releasing and let her eyes slowly slide toward Oliver Wood. The Wimbourne coach was pacing the sidelines already, albeit slowly and with his hands tented and pressed to his lips. He was showing remarkable restraint in comparison to some of their old Gryffindor games, that was for sure. Little five-foot-one Elizabeth, all ninety pounds of her, stood behind Katie, while Weaver’s broad shoulders hid the shorter Smith from view in front of her. As Katie let her eyes trail around the stands, she saw an overwhelming majority decked out in blue-and-gold Puddlemere colors as compared to the yellow-and-black of her robes.
She was going to be sick. She just knew it.
“You all right, Kate?” Elizabeth murmured behind her, and Katie turned her head just enough to see the older woman over her shoulder.
Katie forced a smile and nodded carefully. “Yeah. Yeah, just…just trying to get my head in the game.”
Elizabeth nodded back with an answering smile. “You’ll be fantastic. Just keep close to Weaver and Smith. They won’t lead you astray.”
There it was again, that flip-flopping stomach of nerves. Katie’s eyes fell shut as she slowly exhaled and tried to force her heart to slow down. She couldn’t promise anything, especially with that Smith character. All she could do was turn her head straight ahead again as the referees finished laying out the boxes of balls.
She mounted her broom, the entire pitch falling silent compared to the pounding in her ears. Weaver strode forward, as to be expected, and grinned to the opposing Chaser who would be fighting him for the first shot at the Quaffle. There was an uncomfortable tingling of her skin when she realized that Smith was looking at her, and she turned her head to see him. He watched her for a long silent moment before he simply dropped his chin down in a quick nod. Katie stared before blinking and looking straight ahead once more. There was no time for Smith to make her more nervous, not anymore, so screw him.
Every nerve in her body lit up with the adrenaline of a face first broomstick plunge toward the ocean…and then the whistle was blown.
Katie shot into the sky and swirled around to flank Weaver the instant that he snagged the Quaffle out of the air. She and Smith weaved around him in a circular motion, keeping their eyes out for the respective Puddlemere Chasers, but there was no reason. By the time that Weaver shot through the Chasers and sent the Quaffle flying toward the goal, their Keeper did a superb job of sending it flying with the end of his broom.
The game continued as hence. Katie realized in the midst of playing that while the Puddlemere United Chasers APPEARED to be superb, the real strength of the team in its entirety hung on the Keeper, one Rudolph Maynard of London. The man moved like bloody lightning. As the game stretched on, shot after shot after shot made by Weaver went blocked or, in a case or two, flew directly over the goals instead and was only barely snagged by a Puddlemere Chaser before it soared out of the pitch entirely.
Katie bit her bottom lip as she ducked beneath a Bludger sent flying at her torso by a Puddlemere Beater, trying desperately to keep her eye on the three Chasers. Before she knew it, they’d scored their third goal, 30-0 Puddlemere. She sent Wimbourne’s own Keeper, Bold, an irritated glare before she shook her head and soared back toward the center of the pitch once more.
There had to be a weakness. Every team had a bloody weakness! But where was theirs?
As Weaver claimed the Quaffle again for what felt like the fiftieth time, Katie’s eyes widened in understanding. The three Puddlemere Chasers and Beaters were swarming Weaver like flies on a pile of dung. They KNEW he was the most experienced out of the entire team. They could clearly see that both Katie and Smith were relying on him to score goals for this match. Hell, they’d never seen Smith even PLAY with Wimbourne before, and they’d clearly already written him off, if not herself as well.
Katie swallowed down the sudden heavy lump in her throat, leaned close to her broom, and shot ahead, trusting her Firebolt never to lead her astray.
Three-to-one leaned toward decent odds for a player like Weaver in drills, but five-to-one? Fat chance. He was being swarmed on all dimensions. That is…except for beneath him. “Weaver!” she shouted, streaking beneath the Puddlemere onslaught on the older man. Weaver didn’t even think. As if he heard exactly where her voice came from, he suddenly threw the Quaffle straight down toward the ground.
The Puddlemere team hesitated a half-second as if it was some kind of trick. It was all Katie needed. She caught the Quaffle squarely in her left palm, feeling the unmistakable suction of its gripping charm, before suddenly banking upward behind the closest Puddlemere Chaser. She narrowed her eyes at the Puddlemere Keeper and flew straight toward him.
As if summoned, the Puddlemere Seeker suddenly appeared in front of her, and Katie’s eyes widened as she banked easily to avoid him. But that simple movement cost her a fraction of a second, enough for two of the Puddlemere Chasers to swarm her. She banked again, looking for a way around, and suddenly found herself in that same five-to-one onslaught. “Bell! Bell, here!” Katie looked up and caught Zacharias Smith’s eye as he flew toward her, this time aiming above her.
No. He was NOT about to steal her glory!
She squared her chin and glared above her, her only chance of escape. When she suddenly careened toward the sky, she heard Smith’s panicked shout. “KATIE!” And then a cannonball slammed into her skull.
Katie was lucky enough to hold onto a fuzzy consciousness as she flew off of her broom and through the air, feeling her body turn into a rag doll’s as it plummeted toward the ground. She saw shape after shape flying toward her, but she somehow was falling far faster than them. She distantly wondered if they were all still flying Cleansweepers.
THUNK! “Oof!” Katie’s vision swum as she stared up at a cherubic blond man who was suddenly cradling her to his chest and apparently steering his broomstick miraculously only with his thighs. They must’ve been quite strong. Her last thought that she could recall was fancying just how handsome he was when his hard-planed face was so relaxed in sheer concern.
What brought her back to the living was a sharp throbbing in her skull. “Shite,” she groaned, squeezing her eyes as shut as she could to block out any trace of light and reaching toward her forehead.
“That’s enough out of you, lass,” an older female voice crooned to her in an Irish brogue. “We’ll have ye all fixed up here in just a moment, but ye’ve gotta lay still for me to work me magic.” Katie didn’t have a clue who that annoying voice belonged to, but she really didn’t give a bloody hell. All she knew was that she had to grab her head and make it stop hurting. There was a soft sigh before the witch spoke again. “Hold her arms for me, lass?”
Soft hands pulled Katie’s down and held them to her stomach. As much as Katie wanted to thrash, the soothing scent of rose petals wafted through her consciousness and immediately Elizabeth’s face washed past her mind’s eye. Katie relaxed her muscles with a stifled groan.
“There we are. This’ll take but a moment.” Katie became aware of the stiff point of a wand very carefully touching her forehead before it drew away. A pleasant warm and tingling sensation spread through her entire head until the throbbing died down to the barest pulse, only noticeable if she focused on it.
“Will she be all right, Nurse?”
“She’ll be fine. Needs but a day’s rest here for me to keep an eye on her, and I’ll release her shortly after.”
Oliver Wood’s familiar accent piped up around then. “How long before she flies again?”
“I’d give her about a week at the least, just to make sure there’s no lingering traces of a concussion,” the Nurse murmured, and Katie sensed other magical spells being cast in the room. A vague pain in her back and arms began to melt away like butter on a low-heated frying pan. She sighed in relief.
Chapter Three | Chapter Five