Disclaimer: I am not JK Rowling. Really; I'm not. It's very flattering that you seem to think so, though. :)
Katie stares down at the book in her lap. She hasn't opened it - not in years, she hasn't - but the temptation hasn't wavered.
(It's grown, in fact, and it's bubbling with excitement and it is begging to be heard.)
She wonders if she's prepared to open it. To face the onslaught of memories that will surely overwhelm her once she glimpses the pictures on its faded parchment pages. To face the nostalgia that will accompany the happiness.
(She doesn't know how she could resist before.)
Her finger grasps the edge of the leather cover and pulls.
Her eyes begin to fill with tears; it's not sadness, but happiness that makes her cry as she flips through the book. Images of her childhood pop out at her: she's being pushed on the swing by her mother, her toddler face beaming—and oh! Now she's 11, dressed in school robes and a wide grin. She smiles as she looks through more Hogwarts pictures.
Suddenly, she pauses, her hand hovering over one single picture.
It's the Gryffindor Quidditch team, when Katie was in fourth year.
(She remembers a better time, a time full of joy and laughter and friends and blissful oblivion; but all that is gone now, replaced by an aching loneliness that can't be fixed.)
She traces her finger around the smiling faces of Angelina and Alicia. Standing behind them are the Weasley twins, smiling great big Cheshire cat grins and exchanging high-fives. And then there is little Harry with his tousled black hair, standing awkwardly to the side and blinking adorable green eyes at the camera.
(Katie remembers that day - it was spring and the skies were a rich, looming blue and the grass was swaying with the gentle breeze and Colin Creevey was standing there with his camera, all while Oliver was yelling at the team to quit fidgeting and stay still for the picture, dammit!)
Her finger travels to the very center of her picture where a flustered looking figure stands, shouting angrily at the twins.
Oliver Wood.
(Her breath catches and her heart stills, and that hollow feeling of loneliness is more prominent than ever.)
She gently flips the page and is faced with dozens of pictures of Oliver: Oliver gesturing animatedly towards a diagram while the Weasley twins shoot paper airplanes at the rest of the snoozing Quidditch players, Oliver streaking through the rain, his hair soaked to the back of his neck, Oliver hoisting the Quidditch Cup above his head, oliveroliveroliver.
(There's also Oliver smiling at her and holding her hand, Oliver laughing as she drags him to Honeydukes, Oliver sitting on a tree, gazing at the soft pink hues of the sunset with Katie, but those ones are the ones that she ignores, because she's already fallen in love once and look what happened.)
(Part of her doesn't care.)
And suddenly the book is cast into the flickering flames of the fireplace - the book is full of memories and friends and Oliver and it hurts and she needs to get away - and she's standing up, tears falling freely down her face, then suddenly she is pulling out drawers and rifling through their contents, and she doesn't even know that there isn't a book in front of her until she's left kneeling on the floor, trembling and clutching a Time-turner in her fist.
Part of her worries if Hermione will reprimand her for taking her Time-turner, but the other part - the rational one that wakes up with a hollow feeling of loneliness in her chest - knows that she can't because Hermione is dead, they're all dead, and she's waited for years and they won't come back.
She twists the Time-turner. Once, twice, thrice...
And suddenly her stomach drops and the world tilts and she's spiraling into darkness.
(And she can't stop that overwhelming feeling of wrongness, the feeling that this isn't right at all and that this isn't what's supposed to happen.)
~oOo~
First Year
Katie wakes up in a cold sweat, panting heavily and glancing furtively across the room. She clutches her teddy bear tight to her chest, taking deep breathes. Stop being so childish, Katie, she scolds herself. It's just a dream.
She shivers, remembering the terrifying sensation of free-falling through space. Shards of glass that reflect various images streak through the darkness, and flickers of light occasionally appear, but all that only makes it more strange and spooky.
Just a dream, she tells herself again, but somehow, the words don't bring any comfort to her. She can't sleep, either; all she can do is toss and turn in her bed and worry, worry, worry. When she finally peeks open one eye, she jumps out of her bed and shrieks upon seeing a shadow.
The door bursts open in mid-scream, revealing a disheveled figure dressed in rumpled pajamas. "What the bloody hell are you doing?" she demands in a hushed voice. "Some people are asleep at three o'clock in the morning, you know!"
Katie bows her head, realizing how silly she was. "Sorry," she mutters.
Her face softens. "Hey, no prob," she says, patting Katie's back. "I'm Angelina, by the way. Second year," she says, shaking Katie's hand. "You had nightmares, didn't you?"
Katie nods mutely. Just a dream.
"S'okay, everybody gets those." Angelina waves her hand airily. "Probably just the Sorting shocks. I got them too, when I was in first year," she adds. "I dreamed that Dumbledore came to tell me that I was actually a Squib and that I was to be expelled immediately. All the Gryffindors started to throw things at me. Suddenly, they turned into lions and chased me out the school." She laughs at the memory. "Couldn't sleep well for days."
It wasn't just a dream, Katie wants to say, but she stops herself, because of course it's just a dream and who was she trying to fool anyways? "Sounds horrible," Katie tells her.
"It was," agrees Angelina with a shudder. "Maybe talking about yours will help?" she offers. "It's worth a try."
"I forgot," lies Katie. "The only thing I remember is it being really, really scary."
"I see." Angelina shrugs. "So...See you tomorrow?"
Katie manages a grin. "'Isn't that what friends do?"
Angelina responds by hugging her tightly. "Now you're getting the hang of it!" With one last smile, she flounces away, gently closing the door on her way out.
The memory of the nightmare itself is distant, as if she had been watching it from afar through a disorientated glass window, or something of the sort. She climbs into her bed with a warm feeling in the pit of her stomach, replaying the conversation with Angelina over and over in her head until she falls asleep.
(The next day, when Angelina asks about how she slept with the nightmare and whatnot, Katie merely cocks her head in confusion.)
~oOo~
Second Year
"Say, are you going to sign up for the Gryffindor Quidditch team? Our chaser had an Engorgement Charm cast on his, um, rather concealed parts, and Charlie Weasley just left so he can't be Seeker, and we need those two positions filled in," snarfs Angelina around a mouthful of eggs.
It's a particularly nice morning (in Katie's opinion) - the ceiling is a bright blue and is dotted with little white clouds, and the amiable chatter of the other students echoes throughout the Great Hall. Katie is feeling fairly confident about that Charms quiz they have later that day; she's studied for quite some time (two hours consisting mostly of yelling at the Weasley twins to shut up) and she thinks she's got that Wingardium Leviosa charm down ("Stop the fire! Stop the fire!" cried Angelina, who was scrambling for her wand while several first years watched the scene play out with something akin to awe). For some reason, Katie had woken up rather light-headed (probably due to the fact that she stayed up almost till dawn trying to sedate traumatized first years who had the misfortune to see her miserable failing of an Engorgement Charm) and was still slightly dazed about her surroundings and such.
"Wait, join the Gryffindor Quidditch team?" says Katie. When Angelina nods in response, Katie points her fork at herself for clarification. "Me?" Angelina nods once more. "B-but I can't fly!" cries Katie.
"You flew once in first year," says Angelina. "Everybody did."
"No, I mean before that. I'm a muggleborn, so I didn't even know what Quidditch was until I came to Hogwarts," explains Katie.
"Oh." Angelina ponders on this for a while, looking dejected, and suddenly brightens. "There are plenty of muggleborns that play Quidditch!" she says. "And you have great potential," she adds. "We need good players on the team."
"Well, I suppose it wouldn't hurt…" says Katie, but inside she is exploding with happiness. Great potential.
(Great potential.)
~oOo~
"Angelina! Look at me! Look!" cries Katie excitedly, demonstrating the sloth grip once more. She zooms around in a circle one more time before finally making her descent, jerky and rushed in the heat of excitement, onto the ground. "I can't believe I did it!"
Angelina grins, clapping loudly. "All bow down to the great Katie Bell!" she jokes, bowing exaggeratingly low.
"Oh, shut up," says Katie easily, slapping the other girl's arm playfully. "I did work hard on it, though," she adds.
"With my help, of course," Angelina is quick to add.
"With your help," amends Katie. "But it was basically me."
"You're right," says Angelina. "So...The tryouts are tomorrow," she starts.
"Um, duh, I'm going to try out. Isn't that what we've been practicing for all along?" says Katie, rolling her eyes.
"That's the spirit!" Angelina gives her a high-five. "Now let's work on your game skills. First one to score wins," she says, mounting her Cleansweep and hovering a few feet off the ground. "Easy, medium or hard?"
"Medium," begins Katie, but she is cut off by Angelina.
"Come on! Why don't you test your limits? You'll never get on the team with a medium." There is some scorn in her voice.
"Fine. Hard."
"That's my girl!"
They both rise into the air; Angelina dressed in red-gold Quidditch robes and Katie in her plain school ones. Katie watches as Angelina unlocks a large crate (Which, Angelina assures Katie, is an old set that is most certainly not being used for practice), allowing two Bludgers and a Quaffle to fly out of it, and suddenly they are both streaking after the Quaffle.
Angelina catches it before she does and zooms away towards the goalposts. Katie grits her teeth and flies after her, keeping an eye on the constantly zigzagging flash of red and gold, waiting for that moment of weakness that will allow her to snatch the Quaffle away. It comes when Angelina swerves to dodge an incoming Bludger and fumbles with the Quaffle. Katie sees her chance and snatches it from Angelina's unsuspecting hands.
"Wha - hey!" But Katie is already halfway across the pitch, laughing quietly to herself. The fresh breeze toys with her hair, and her hair, basking in the golden sunlight, is a fiery auburn. She laughs again, relishing the feel of cold wind hitting her face, and expertly dodges a Bludger. It is only a few seconds later when another Bludger comes to knock her off her broom, one that she barely escapes. She risks a fleeting glance behind her and sees Angelina wielding a beater's bat and a mischievous grin. "You said I could go hard on you," she says.
"Well, you did kind of force" - she is interrupted by an incoming Blunger that whizzes past her ear - "me to agree," she finishes, dodging yet another Bludger.
Angelina doesn't respond and merely aims another Bludger her way.
The next few minutes are probably the most strangest and eye-opening ones of her life. Adrenaline races through her veins, allowing her to avoid Bludgers at lightning speed. She never knew how good of a Beater Angelina could be, she thinks in amazement.
The thought itself costs her a few seconds. Before she can even think, the Quaffle is out of her hands and plummeting towards the ground.
Instinct takes over and she whizzes after it. She is aware of Angelina's cries of warning, but they are fading rapidly and all she can see is a red ball that is about to hit the ground. Gritting her teeth, she urges her slow broom to go faster and makes a desperate attempt to grab at the Quaffle.
She barely catches it between her fingers, but she doesn't have any time to celebrate. With an easy grace that she didn't know she had, she curves up into the air with centimeters to spare. With a little whoop, she holds the Quaffle above her head as if it's the Quidditch Cup, her broom skidding to a stop.
From below, there is the sound of clapping. Katie can barely make out a blurred masculine figure. "I have to say, that dive for the Quaffle was pretty impressive. When did you start?"
"Few weeks ago," Katie calls back. "Why?"
An awkward silence ensues, and Katie is beginning to think that she did something wrong, but then the boy speaks again, slight admiration coloring his voice. "Wow. That's pretty good. You are telling the truth, right?" he adds suspiciously.
"'Course she is," Angelina answers for her, landing on the ground and lifting herself off her broomstick. Katie follows. "Really, Wood, you ought to have a bit of trust in people," she adds with relish.
"Oh, shut it. That's no way to talk to the Captain," snaps Wood.
Katie takes her first real look at Wood. She cannot but help notice his strong jaw line, tinted with a light brushing of stubble, and his slightly rumpled looking hair. His chestnut eyes sparkle in the sun, and she can almost see his muscles through his robes. Of course, she tells herself, this is only careful observing, nothing else. It's only human instinct to carefully examine anything unfamiliar to you, right? Of course it is.
She is jolted out of her reverie when Angelina elbows her. "So, are you planning to try out for the Quidditch team?" she asks pointedly.
Katie nods hurriedly. "Of course I am! You know how much I want to play Quidditch.
Angelina turns to face Wood. "Look, mate, why don't you just put her on the team? She's pretty good, and it's not worth holding auditions when it's only temporary," she adds. "Remember last year?"
Wood shudders, remembering the torture that the team had went through when watching other wizards fail at Quidditch. Two of their Chasers had graduated and they were forced to look for two talented Quidditch players through throngs of bad ones. They had finally recruited Alicia and Angelia, but they had all sworn that they would never stoop down to the level of the other rejected "Quidditch players" who auditioned for the position. "Well, I suppose so," he amends, assuming a weary tone, but he isn't too upset about this development. He had never liked Evan Ancrum that much, anyways.
Angelina waits till Wood is out of hearing range before turning towards Katie with a knowing smile. "You thought he was hot, didn't you," she says accusingly, her smile wider than ever.
Katie flushes scarlet. "Shut up!" she cries in anger, smacking Angelina's arm.
Angelina only laughs.
~oOo~
Fourth Year
"Bell?" asks Oliver – no, Wood, she has to remind herself – cautiously walking up to her and tapping her shoulder. "Are you OK? You look like you haven't been sleeping too well," he says, gesturing towards the grey bags that hang from her eyes, "and the match is in two days. It's dinner. Eat up," he orders, handing her a small bowl of broth and a few pieces of chicken. "You need energy for the upcoming match. Slytherin can take its bragging and arrogant attitude and shove it up their arses, because we will beat them. Right?" Wood looks at her imploringly, waiting for her to agree and say yes, Slytherin can slink back into the Chamber of Secrets for all I care.
Katie peeks out from under her comforter and, upon seeing Oliver's –no, Wood, goddammit; what the hell was wrong with her?—hopeful expression, burrows back under the covers. "I'm tired," she whines, her voice muffled by her pillow. "I can't play. I think I'm sick."
(She knows that she's lying.)
Oliver—Wood, not Oliver, holy crap what was wrong with her?—rolls his eyes and holds his hands up in the air. "We both know that isn't true." When this yields no response, he continues: "Come on, Bell, please? You're my favorite player," he tries.
Suddenly, her bed is hot and itchy and not at all comfortable. "I thought that was Harry Potter." She tries to keep the contempt out of her voice, but fails miserably.
"He's one of our best players," admits Wood, and she feels like she's been stabbed in the heart, but then he says, "but I said favorite."
(Her heart lifts slightly.)
He grins. "So, is that a yes, you're going to play?"
(She wilts again.) "No, it is not a yes," she snaps. "How did you get up here, anyways?"
Oliver sighs in exasperation. "That's not the point. What can I do to get you to play?" he says, exasperated.
Katie crawls out from under the covers, her hair tangled and her cheeks tainted with red. "How did you get up here?" she says once again, in an effort to stall.
"Why won't you just cooperate—"
"Can't you just—"
Oliver silences her with a kiss.
(It tastes of sweat and feels like fire coursing through their veins, and when they pull apart both of them are panting.)
~oOo~
Fourth, Fifth and Sixth Year
The following years consist of stolen kisses in the corridors, cute little dates in Hogsmeade and then love letters and summer visits and hours of talking and staring at the stars and wishing.
"Remember when we were young?" asks Katie, her head in Oliver's lap as she stares up at the twinkling stars that dominate the inky night sky.
"We're still young." Oliver reminds her, planting a chaste kiss on her lips.
She giggles. "No, like when we first met," she answers. "When we were awkward and I hardly knew your first name."
"When was that again?" he jokes. "Seems like so long ago."
"It was," agrees Katie, taking hold of his chin and tilting it up so he can see the stars.
"But we're here together now." He smiles at her, fingering with her golden necklace. "Say, what is this anyways?" he asks, holding up a small golden hourglass attached to the golden chain.
"Oh, that!" Katie laughs. "I'm surprised you haven't asked before. It's…" Katie starts to tell him, and then realizes that she doesn't know. She tries to talk to him, to tell him so, but the words are stuck in her throat. She is faintly aware of him talking to her, shaking her and asking her what's wrong, but it's like sound in water – groggy and incoherent.
And suddenly her whole life flashes before her eyes, her vision teetering (she feels a sense of deja vu and her mind flashes back to first year), and she is engulfed into darkness.
(When she returns back to her own time, her own body, and when the truth sinks in; that Oliver is dead and everybody is dead and it hasn't changed – the last photograph of Oliver has curled onto itself, swallowed up by the flames, and disintegrated into a pile of ash.)
(She wants it all back.)
A/N: I'm so sorry that I couldn't get it up earlier. My Wi-Fi was acting up and being really mean and stuff. LPlease forgive me! Anyways, finally got WiFi! :D Anyways, I wanted to explain to you guys about the time-travel thing. I know it might not make sense, but she basically became her younger self, which explains the nightmares. It's REALLY confusing, but this happened because she twisted the time-turner 3 times, as I said before, and you are only supposed to turn it like a quarter or something. So she would have had to zap out of existence if she had actually gone that far in time.
CONTESTS/CHALLENGES:
[Pirate Ship Battles] Write about time-travel
[January Scavenger Hunt] Write angst
[Greek Mega Prompt Challenge] Demeter – Write about a mother and daughter. Alt; write about loss.
[*2015* New Year's Resolutions Challenge] Time-travel - earns $350.00
[Build-a-bear challenge] A Bear - Write about a Gryffindor
[Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry] Arithmancy - Write about a secondary character
[Challenge Ticketing Challenge] - Challenges - 6/3