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Title: Soldiers of Fortune
Pairing: Katie/Angelina
Prompt: soldier of fortune
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 828
Summary: It doesn't really matter, how other people treat them.
Author's Notes: To [livejournal.com profile] purelush and [livejournal.com profile] deathlydragon for being loyal readers to the end. And I came so close to beating you, [livejournal.com profile] deathlydragon! *shakes fist*
Link to Prompt Table: It is Complete!



"What is your problem?" Olivia thundered, following Angelina as the younger sister stormed through the house. "Why can't you be happy for me, just this once? You've never been happy for me."

"When have you ever been happy for me?" Angelina retorted, whirling about to face her sibling. "Where were you when I got my O.W.L.s? You were showing off your N.E.W.T.s. When I got my N.E.W.T.s, my Quidditch captaincy? You were in India, cursing traders. What did you say when I brought Katie here? 'Look, guys, I'm pregnant.' It's always been about you."

"Now, look here, Angelina. I've always been proud of you," said Ollie, her voice stern despite the tears in her eyes. "I've just been busy, that's all. Your friend Katie is sweet; I like her."

"She's not my friend," Angelina said, hands balling into fists. "You just don't get it, do you? You're too busy living your perfect life with your perfect husband and your perfect baby. You can't even see what's right in front of you."

Olivia sighed. "Come off it, sis, you'll find a man someday. It's no use being jealous of me; you have to be your own person."

Angelina's fingers twitched; it was all she could take not to pull out her wand. "I am my own person," she said angrily, her words slow and measured. "And I have found someone, despite you lot trying to shove men down my throat."

Olivia giggled. "Well, there's a naughty image."

Angelina growled and threw up her hands. "I'm going home," she said, and now she did pull out her wand, blasting the door open in an attempt to redirect her rage. "I'm sorry I ruined your baby shower," she said, not really feeling sorry at all.

*****

Katie stood in her mother's living room, hands behind her back as she fidgeted nervously. "Mum, I have something to tell you."

Mrs. Bell was sitting on the sofa with her hands in her lap. "Katie, dear, why are you so nervous? You know you can tell me anything." She paused, her eyes drifting as she stared out at nothing. "We've got to be close now, sweetheart. We're all we've got left." They hadn't quite spoken yet about Katie's father, who had been killed in the Second War by Death Eaters in the Ministry.

Katie struggled not to cry. "Yes, well." She cleared her throat. "Mum, I'm in love."

"Oh, Katie, that's wonderful." Mrs. Bell stood up and reached for her daughter. Katie buried her face in her mother's hair and inhaled the familiar scent, the comforting reminder of her childhood, when things had been simple. "Why would you ever hesitate to tell me such a thing, Katie?"

"Her name is Angelina," Katie whispered, and nearly sobbed as she felt her mother stiffen.

Mrs. Bell pulled back slightly, her hands on Katie's shoulders, and searched her daughter's eyes carefully, something sad and unrecognizable in her own expression. "Oh, sweetheart," she said softly, and crushed Katie to her, squeezing her tightly as she sighed heavily. "I think we always knew, your father and I."

Katie stared down at the floor, at the burn mark in the carpet where she'd first shown signs of magic; they'd never been able to get the spot out. She chuckled softly, remembering playing with her father's wand, drawing red sparks across the living room. "Is it all right?" She asked her mother, her voice trembling.

Mrs. Bell laughed. "Love is always right," she said, and kissed Katie's cheek. "You're making your own way in this world, Katie. Your father would be so proud."

Katie beamed.

*****

Katie and Angelina don't play Quidditch much anymore. They each work in Diagon Alley -- Angelina in the Quidditch supply shop and Katie in the Owl Emporium, and they meet for lunch every day, where they can hold hands and trade stories about their customers. Sometimes George joins them, and if he ever stares at Angie too long, Katie kicks him under the table, and he always remembers his place.

In the evenings they'll share a Daily Prophet as Angelina makes dinner (assisted with magic, of course). They reminisce, sometimes, about the days of old, when they were Quidditch stars in Gryffindor tower. They miss it, of course, but they are happy now, sitting close on their little couch together. Sometimes Mrs. Bell makes a visit, through the Floo network, and they'll have tea. Angelina does not speak about her family, though they still send her letters that are all about Olivia and her new baby. Katie frowns and kisses Angie tenderly; someday she will have a serious talk with the Johnsons about how they treat their younger daughter.

Until then, they go to bed, arms and legs intertwined, lips mapping each other's bodies in the dark. It doesn't really matter, how other people treat them, because they have each other, and as Mrs. Bell says, they are making their own way in the world.
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