Lonely and bored, a young woman once known as Katie Bell sat at the bar in The Crusty Hide, a dingy wizarding inn in Banchory, Scotland. She was far away from her comfortable Welsh home this rainy Friday evening. However, with what she had in mind, she couldn't risk the chance of walking into the wrong person.
Too deep in thought, she barely acknowledged the barman as he poured her another wine. Worries about the important issues in life occupied her mind. Whether she ought to take her wedding ring off or not before she went ahead with her plan would be one of them.
"Off it is then." Just as Katie wanted to wriggle the ring off her finger, someone slid onto the empty stool next to her. The scent of musky cologne filled her nostrils, it hadn’t changed in all those years, and she knew who it was. The one person she didn't mind running into tonight.
What a coincidence.
Her hands grew clammy as she eyed the man next to her. Marcus Flint, the newly appointed Tornadoes Captain. Every bit as cruel on the pitch as he’d been in his Slytherin days. Some would even argue that he’d got rougher as he’d grown older. It was widely known that Flint considered a match in which he hadn’t managed to break a few bones a lost match.
Why was she here again?
"I've gone bonkers," Katie thought as she took a deep breath and slid the ring off her finger. Then, after another deep breath to muster up some much-needed courage, she tapped Flint’s arm.
“You like a drink?” Katie asked, her voice thick with nerves.
Flint merely stared at her, brows raised in surprise and mouth slightly agape. It wasn’t the best look on him. When she asked again, his eyes wandered down, and his lips curled up. Although the low-cut top had been a conscious decision, Katie felt a tinge of regret at wearing the two-sizes too small piece of scrap that was so stretched out to its limits that it had become a bit see-through. She liked to think that wizards were attracted to her no matter what she was wearing. Her husband always said-
Katie cleared her throat a few times as if that would help her rid of the unwanted thoughts of her husband. Tonight, she wasn’t married. Tonight, she was a single witch looking for fun. With someone that wasn’t her husband. With an infamous Quidditch Captain who probably didn’t remember her or what he'd said to her all those years ago on her fifteenth birthday.
"Too bad you're too young. I would've banged ya'."
Well, she wasn't too young now.
Thank Merlin, Flint finally remembered to use his words, breaking the awkward silence. “An Ogden’s. No ice,” he said, goggling at her barely covered breasts.
As Katie ordered the drink from the highly-amused bartender, she crossed her arms high up over her chest. Thankfully, it broke whatever spell Flint was under. He snapped his eyes up to her, almost offended that she’d cut him off like that. When he realised that his hard stare wouldn't convince Katie to lower her arms again, he scoffed and shifted his focus on the too cheery barman pouring his drink.
“Thanks,” Flint grumbled when the glass of Firewhiskey was put in front of him. As he took a sip, he dared another quick glance at Katie's chest. And he scoffed again.
“You’re welcome.” Katie bit her lip in contemplation. Letting this chance slip away because she got too prudish all of a sudden would be a shame. After the umpteenth deep breath in a short span of time, she slowly lowered her arms and pulled at the hem of her top, offering him a better view than before. “It’s new, what d’you think?”
Katie felt every muscle in her body tense, so hard she cringed hearing herself say that.
“I think your husband,' Flint looked pointedly at her pocket, 'is an idiot for letting you out of the house dressed like that.” Still, he nodded in approval now that she was on full display again. “You look like you’re on the prowl.”
Famous Captain or not, Katie was in her right mind to tell him off for suggesting that her husband would have a say in how she dressed. But that would ruin her plans. “Maybe, I am.”
“Wot?” Flint blinked a few times, his glass hanging mid-air and his mouth open in a perfectly shaped ‘o’. When he came to his senses again, he rephrased, “Maybe you’re what?”
“I'm searching for something.” Katie drained her wine in one go and squared her shoulders in hopes it'd make her appear more confident than she felt. Also, her tits looked bigger this way. “My husband, he’s the only one I’ve been with, ever. And…I... ah... you know, I want to sample a bit. See what else is out there.”
“You’re mental,” Flint concluded after a long silence, gaze once again fixed on her chest. Suddenly, his head snapped up, almost as if he’d connected the dots. “Oh, shit, I remember your- uh...you! You're Skinny Bell.”
Like Katie, he too downed the rest of his drink in one go and suddenly stood up to leave. That wouldn’t do of course, not by a long shot.
“Would you?” Katie hurriedly asked as she grabbed his arm.
“Would I what?”
What was he trying to do, make her say it aloud? The lump in her throat grew to the size of a potato when she realised that yes, that was exactly what he was trying to do. Katie opened and closed her mouth a few times before any sound came out. “No strings attached one night of fun. Uh, with me. And you, of course. Naked. In a room, upstairs. Please say yes.”
Flint’s reaction was not what she’d expected or what they'd rehearsed.
“You want me to do you?” he asked as he tossed a few coins on the bar. Again, his eyes wandered downwards as his lips curled upwards when Katie practically pushed her chest in his face. "Yeah, mental or not, I'm not saying no to that."
Flint held his hand out, waggling his brows and licking his lips like the average Knockturn Alley perv. The only thing missing was him twirling his non-existent moustache. And just like that, what should have been a magical moment in their love life vanished into thin air.
"Fuck, Marcus!" Groaning loudly, Katie dropped her head on the bar. “Why? Why did you have to go and do that for?” she cried into the crook of her elbow.
Marcus sighed in exasperation as he flopped back onto his stool. Certain that Katie was too busy feeling sorry for herself, he shrugged his shoulders and rolled his eyes at the bartender, who was doubling over in laughter. Marcus couldn’t blame the man; he too would have laughed if he hadn’t been the one suffering.
“What did I do wrong now?” he asked whilst poking Katie in the ribs.
“Everything,” she cried and lifted her head a little, scowling. “Licking your lips and… And would it have killed you to charm me a bit? I had to do all the work as usual!”
“Effort? Why should I charm a chit who’s throwing herself at me?” Marcus snapped. “You’re the one cheating on me, uh, her poor husband, remember?”
“That’s not the point, you git. We talked about this; I'm the utterly inexperienced and unfulfilled housewife. I’m supposed to be helpless. You've ruined it again, you nob.”
"Maybe I don't like my part." Marcus held up his hands when Katie turned red in anger, ready to hex him. He was just too tired after a full day of work to argue with her. “Can’t we just call it quits for tonight? Please? You know the boys will be up at the crack of dawn, and then there’s the shop...”
“Fine,” conceded Katie after a few moments of deep contemplation. She was no longer in the mood to play as it was. Not after three tries. “I’m knackered, take me home.”
“Thank Merlin.” Marcus helped Katie off her stool and slid the wedding ring back on her finger. "That looks much better."
Already forgotten that she was cross with him, Katie held her hand out with a smile and studied the simple gold band. "It does, doesn't it?"
Glad that they were back to themselves again, a simple cauldron maker and his shopkeeper, Marcus wrapped his arm around his wife's shoulders and led her to the Floo-connection. “I’ll let you pull my chest hairs if that’ll make you feel better.”
“I’d like that.” Content he’d already offered repentance for his muck up, Katie snuggled closer to Marcus as they stepped into the fireplace. And just as she loudly called their destination, he said something she hadn’t thought about before.
“It’s too difficult, you know. Why can't we play Mediwitch and patient like everyone else? I'll even let you take my temperature.”