Discalimer, ect. This is my first submission to , please review! I hope to continue the story and have a few more chapters waiting for publish. Thank you. =)
Chapter No.1
The crowd hushes in anticipation. One by one they throw their attention to Holly Catten, who has just pulled into a miraculous and dangerously fast dive… She's seen the snitch! The opposition's players have caught on, and she dodges bludgers whilst narrowly missing chasers bodies. Still focused and dangerous in the dive, her golden-ruby hair streaming in wild, electrical curls, the final threat to her victory has plummeted close behind her - the opponents seeker, Viktor Krum. Gaining closer and closer to the hovering golden sphere, neck and neck with Krum, the Quiditch goddess does the unforeseeable. Moments before a literally crashing capture, she darts out her hand as quick as lightning and swipes the air inches from the snitch, causing it to take off again in a glint of gold. Before Krum has the slightest chance to even consider what's happened, Catten makes an absolutely mad turn on a dime and jets off for the snitch again, arguably parallel to the ground with 4-5 inches between. She circles around, and in a burst of speed grabs out with a nimbly quick hand. The crowd goes positively insane! Holly Hugo Catten has done it again!
"HOLLY - HUGO - CATTEN! HOW MANY TIMES HAVE I GOTTA TAKE AWAY THIS BROOM?!" I nearly crashed into a tree. "IT'S PAST ELEVEN! DO YOU HAVE SELECTIVE HEARING, HOLLY, OR AM I CORRECT IN ASSUMING THAT YOU'RE IGNORING EVERY WARNING I GIVE YOU?" my mother yelled, stomping into the orchard in her nightgown and rubber boots. Before I could think of any argument that could possibly save my skin, another round of screaming was shot into the would be pleasant night air.
"WELL THAT'S IT! NO MORE WARNINGS! YOUR GROUNDED FOR THE WEEK, NO BROOM, NO OUTTINGS, NO FRIENDS, NO NOTHING!" As I cautiously landed from my Cleansweep, she stormed over and grabbed my ear, yanking me in the direction of the house.
"Honestly Holly! Could have set the bloody orchard on fire with these lanterns!" I let out a sigh of exasperation as she stopped short and waved her wand to put out the candlelit lanterns I had carefully set so I could practice without worrying too much of knocking into apple tree's.
"Mum, would you let go of my ear?" I pleaded. She dropped her hand but I knew I was still in it deep. The scolding and stomping continued all the way up to our old Victorian house on the hill overlooking our apple orchard. She opened the door for me and slammed it shut upon arrival, turning to me continuously ranting as profusely as she had started.
"Phil finds your not in bed after he goes in to get you after a nightmare, poor things already scared half to death, imagine what he thinks when his sisters gone! Comes running into our room, lucky Dad was home tonight, because I had to go out hunting for you! You had better get into that bed right now, young lady, before I change my mind and you're stuck in for two weeks of this lovely summer! And give me that broom - I ought to call on Janey's parents and tell them to cancel your two's plans for next week!"
"Mum, you wouldn't-" I begin. Janey, my best friend, and I had been planning to spend the last of the summer holidays together. We've been talking about it since July began; her parents had even allowed me to come on their three night excursion to Diagon Alley.
"You're awfully lucky I don't! Now you get upstairs, AND YOU HAD BETTER NOT PLAN ON ANYMORE STUNTS LIKE THIS, HOLLY!"
I trudged up the creaky stairs to the second floor. My cat, Ginger, was sitting at the top with a knowing look in his large, bluish eyes. They reminded me of swamp water, a wonky sort of combination of blue, green and yellow. I scooped him up from the old carpet and went to my room, closing the door behind me. Sitting on the edge of my mismatched bedspread, I stroked Gingers head and fumed slightly at Mums fit.
It was only the second time I had ever snuck out to practice! And I only did it so I could go undisturbed. The normal Mum would be a lot more lenient. Usually my younger brother Phillip showed up in the orchard after a half hour into it, a whole if I was lucky. If I really wanted to concentrate I had to make sure he was distracted before hand, or else I would be bombarded with questions and continuous requests for rides.
Ritchy, my brother older than me by two years, wasn't really much help. Phil loved him too, but he was always more interested in my flying than whatever Ritchy had to offer.
Usually my Mum or Dad got Phil doing something or other if I asked them to before I went out, but now was kind of a stupid time to practice since they were so stressed out lately with the prospect of my grandparents visiting.
Grandma and Grandpa Ollie were alright when I was younger, they had spoiled the crap out of me. But whenever they visited in recent years it showed more and more that as you grew older, expectations sky rocketed. My Mum loves them, but she's under a lot of pressure. A week and a half before a visit, it's like walking on eggshells with her. So asking where to put a dish or if you can have a pantry treat could very well result in blown eardrums. Stupid time to try and practice, really…
But I didn't have much other choice. Grandma and Grandpa would be here a couple days before I left for Janey's, and I couldn't practice while at her house. The few days they were here were out of the question. And I really needed to get some practice in before tryouts (even if some of it was day dreaming). I'd have to find a way to convince Mum to let me back on my broom.
Quiditch is my thing, apart from reading. Since my uncle, Lou as I call him, took me to my first game, I was enthralled. A couple months later on my 1Oth birthday, I had received my first broom from him. Lou enjoys my passion as he shares it, and came out 4 - 5 times a month to teach me the rules, strategies and skills of Quiditch. Eventually it became games of one on one, and now we're a pretty even match. I began with trying out all the positions, but my favourite and most comfortable place on the team was soon decided beater.
I surprised Lou with how precisely and far I could whack the bludgers from our family's Quiditch set, he sometimes joked it was a good thing they were enchanted to come back. In my second year, I was the youngest ever girl beater to make the Ravenclaw Quiditch team. Lou was extremely excited. He still comes out to play every once in a while, mostly in the summer, since his job as a tracking aurror has been keeping him busy lately.
According to the Ministry, he's hunting for Sirius Black. But Mum, Dad, Aunt Percy, my cousin Tammy, Ritchy and I are all aware that he's in league with the Order of the Phoenix, taking leads from his partner Kingsly Shacklebolt on the whereabouts of Voldemort and Death Eaters who are in his inner circle. It's really dangerous business, and we all worry about him, but there's no stopping it. He wouldn't even if he wanted to, which I know he does sometimes for the sake of his family. But we understand the importance of what he does.
Tammy is Lou and Aunt Percy's eldest daughter. She's twenty one, and in with the Order too. There's also John, Abby and Clarice, who're fifteen, eleven and seven, but apparently they're keeping it from John until they're sure he can handle it. Tammy herself found out by accident when she was sixteen, and apparently they were going to tell her. But I know my Aunt Percy well enough to realise that she just wanted Tammy to be as least involved in the whole business as possible and was procrastinating because of it. I figure it's the same deal with John. Dad, who's an aurror as well, told me a last Christmas. I had just turned fifteen, and he's straightforward in the way that he thought I should know what they were doing as soon as possible. I'm glad my Dad trusts me. My Mum does too, but like Aunt Percy, she worries. Since I was told, it's a really touchy subject to bring up. Mum made me swear that I wouldn't try to get involved with the Order until later, when I was properly trained, since she knew there wouldn't be keeping me out after long. Lucky for her, I'm still fifteen and going no where, apart from Hogwarts. I've never been to an Order meeting, and I don't know any member's who aren't related to me apart from Shacklebolt and Dumbledore. Really, the only things I know about the Order are its purpose and existence. I don't think about it much except when wondering where and what Lou might be up too. It's really just pointless to ponder over the whole thing.
I put Ginger back down on the bed and got up to change into my pyjamas. Pulling on an old t-shirt and slacks, I crawled into bed and took a book from the top of the pile on my bedside table. The Tales of Beedle the Bard.
I had found it last night on the old bookshelf in the office. I hadn't been read from this since I was younger than Phil, who's five. I began to wonder why when dear Ginger pushed his furry mug under my arms and made himself comfortable on my chest, blocking all view of the book from my comfortable reading position. Since I had been kind of rude to him earlier today when pushing him off my desk to do some homework, I obliged in scratching behind his ears. Amidst his purring, I heard my door creak slightly open.
Peering around Gingers fat bottom, I saw little Phil's fingers clutching the door frame while he peeked into my room from the sliver of darkness.
"C'mere, Philly." I said with overly fake reluctance. Without hesitation he dashed across my room and jumped into my bed, snuggling up close to me and the cat.
"I like it when Gingy purrs." Phil whispered, gently stroking him. "He sounds good." I smiled. Despite all his pestering and troublemaking, Phil was the most adorable little brother I could ask for. He was clumsy in spite of his ambitious mischievousness, which made him all the more hilarious. The situations he's called for my rescue from are priceless, from getting his arms twisted and tangled until he was completely stuck in Mum's bra, to running screaming into the house followed by Henrietta, our chicken. At least he knew to keep away from my books and wand, even if everything else to him was never out of bounds. And he was smart enough only to stroke and look at my broom, which I didn't mind, because I loved polishing it, secretly.
"I heard you had a bad dream, eh?" I asked. He looked up with huge, terrified eyes and nodded.
"I thought the Sink Man had gotten you, Holly! I ran and told Mum and Dad, because what if he got them too?! And Richee?!" He couldn't pronounce Ritchy's name yet, and always overdid the e's.
"Oh, don't be silly, Phillip." I said, rolling my eyes. "I was out hunting the Sink Monster! He's run away, he's gone past the fence and everything. I told him, don't you come back and bother my Phil anymore, or I'll kung-fu you! And he ran like the wind." Phil stared at me with his mouth slightly open for a second and then suddenly wrapped his arms around me, his muffled voice warbled out from my sleeve- "Oh, Holly, you're the best sister ever!" I nearly cried. "Alright, Phil, you're the best little brother too." I said sheepishly. He unwrapped his embrace and beamed up at me. "But it's time to sleep, or else we'll be really tired tomorrow. I'm going to finish my reading, but no more talking." He nodded to me and pulled Ginger from on top of me to under the covers, where the cat obligingly stayed until Phil had nodded off. I read a few tales from Beedle, shut off the lamp and fell into odd dreams of the Sink Monster, and Ginger teaching me kung-fu.
The next morning I woke alone, and missing a pillow. I got dressed and looked into the mirror to make sure my hair didn't need to be restyled. I almost always wore it in its natural wavy curls, but sometimes the long locks needed a boost after being slept on. I went down the flight of stairs and into the kitchen to get some breakfast, and upon passing through the living room I discovered where my pillow had gone. "Phil, can you please tell Ginger to let me have my pillow back?" I asked the little five year old, who was hunched over the cat. My pillow had been stuffed in a box, and Ginger was sitting in it on top being stroked by Phil. There were also doodles all over the whole thing, apart from the cat, that looked sort of like letters and cats and stars.
"But Gingy really likes the bed, Holly. It's his own."
"Oh, whatever then." I yawned and stretched. I could just get a different one, Mum would be able to magic the stains out. I'd just pretend to have nothing to do with it and hide in my room when she found dear Gingy's bed. She's amazing at house cleaning spells.
Going to find her once I got a piece of toast in my stomach, I remembered my battle plan to get my broom back from this morning. I had decided to play it sweet and innocent, but not so much so that it would make her feel too guilty, just enough so that she's let me practice without getting more frustrated. I was so brilliant.
I went out into our huge front yard. The August sun was delightful. I saw her hanging clothes on the clothesline and approached slowly.
"Mum…" I began.
"Mm." She replied to show she was listening.
"About last night… I only snuck out because I really need to concentrate before try outs, and I know your all too busy to watch Phil in the day. This is my last week here to practice, and I won't be able to at Janey's, or with Grandma and Grandpa visiting. Could I please have my broom back?" I crossed my fingers behind my back as I waited in silence. After a minute or so, she replied with exasperation
"Alright. But Holly, if your going to go out at night, take Ritchy's flashlights instead of lanterns, and tell me before hand. And don't even try staying out past eleven. I mean it. And you're in charge of Phil until Grandma and Grandpa get here, and you had better get that house clean too. Especially your room. And tidy Phil's. Tell Ritchy the same."
"Of course Mum!" I chirped, and gave her a kiss on the cheek before skipping to the house. I knew she was either smiling slightly or doing her best not to. If you played it right, she really wasn't hard to please.
The day's passing until Grandma and Grandpa Ollie's visit were pretty calm, considering my family. Me and Phil went to Aunt Percy's one afternoon, and she and I chatted about Lou and his work. She hadn't heard from him for a while, but she new it was only because he didn't want the owls to be followed or intercepted. It was refreshing, talking to Aunt Percy. She discussed things with me with the maturity level one would expect in a grown up discussion.
I got flying in nearly every night, and Ritchy's flashlights had made a difference. They were easy to set up and he bewitched them to be brighter than normal muggle ones. Plus, they didn't flicker or go out. Ritchy wasn't a muggle lover, but he had some non-magic friends from the town we were just outside of. He picked up a few nifty ideas from some of their wacky inventions. It's odd how well they manage without magic.
I was able to set up and really hit targets with these lamps, and when Dad was home one night I got him to charm some that wouldn't break or fall over when a bludger came at them. He even got some to zoom around for me. However, the night before my grandparents arrived, something slightly odd happened.
I had been practicing like usual; about to head in since it was around quarter to eleven, when I noticed something in an apple tree. I was used to owls and the occasional squirrel or rabbit, and robins and blue jays weren't unusual. But what I had thought I seen looked kind of well, human. I had to pull around and stop to get a better look, but by the time I did the whatever or whoever it was seemed to notice I had spotted it. I heard a bit of a scramble and a snap, got a glimpse of what looked kind of like legs, and then it was gone. Spooked, I packed up the lights and such and flew up the hill instead of walking. I decided not to tell Mum since she'd freak out over it. Dad wasn't home.
The next morning, Grandma and Grandpa Ollie arrived nice (as if) and early. Mum was fluttering around and kind of twitty, and I made sure that I put on nice clothes. They both gave me a hug when we met, and Grandma immediately began with the questioning. "So, Holly dear, how's summer been? Are you still at it with that Quiditch? Keeping in touch with your friends? What about any boys? So, have you kept up with your studying since break began? If I remember correctly it was a handful of OWLS last term, wasn't it. What were those in, again? Mhmm. I see." I just tried to be polite and secretly wished she was more like Grandpa, who usually skulked off after a while to read the Prophet over again. When she saw Phil, it was hugs and smiles and kisses and hard candies, with a great deal of the usual cooing: "Oh, what a little darling! How are you, sweet boy? Isn't he just adorable." and so on and so forth.
The two days seemed like an eternity, but it had finally come time to escape the madhouse. I said goodbye to Phil (and Gingy, it was insisted. Henrietta as well, even though Phil stayed behind me the whole time.) And Ritchy had to come down from his room. During the summer he usually slept most days and snuck out to town nearly every night. I had insisted on going with him once or twice, but it wasn't that fun. Grandma and Grandpa gave me hugs and fair wishes.
I think Grandpa had started to go slightly off his rocker, as old people often do. Mid-hug he whispered in my ear -
"And never forget, Holly, that you can paralyze with or without looks. Might come in handy." I just said "Right you are, Gramps." and continued with the farewells. He used to be an aurror too. Mum had said he hadn't been right since after a battle with an unknown Death Eater. Mum reminded me of manners and packing and such, and gave me an extra ten galleons, hugged and kissed me with "I love you" 's too. Dad reminded me to keep up practicing at school and to write often, with eleven galleons slipped into my coat pocket.
Twenty one spending galleons! And I knew it was just for Diagon Alley, I had a vault in Gringgot's for school supplies and Hogsmeade trips. There was a very limited amount deposited in it during the school year. My parents had told me that if I kept out of trouble this summer, that I could buy a pet too. I had been well enough and kept Phil quite busy, far as Phil goes, so I was assuming an owl or cat was to be expected.
With all of that business said and done, I called into the green-flamed fireplace "Two-twenty, Beachdale Avenue, London!" And the last I saw before consumed by the Flu Network was Phil and Ginger's curious faces.