Oliver Wood
Two words I associate with 'Blockhead' and 'Imbecile'. The devil's right hand man, the epitome of annoyance, bringer of all things destructive, in 'The Katie Bell Thesaurus' he would be the perfect synonym for all these words.
O.k., so maybe I'm exaggerating just a little, let me elaborate on our situation. Both Muggle born and raised on a seedy little street in Islington, went to the same primary school, hated each other then, hate each other now. He's the boy that pushed you into the mud, that dipped your pigtail into the pot of paint, that cackled at your show and tell. I have a fond memory of the teacher inadvertently partnering us up for a science experiment on friction: simply seeing how fast different trainers went down a slope of sandpaper. He managed to have my trainer on fire by the end of it.
When I received my letter from Hogwarts, aside from shock and bewilderment, my first thought was 'Goodbye Oliver Wood', I had finally escaped the clutches of Satan. You can imagine my utmost horror when I bumped into him on the Hogwarts Express, well replace the words 'bumped into' with 'repeatedly hit' and then you get an idea of the scene. I will never forgive him for ruining my fairytale: being whisked away from North London to a magical castle, then fate had to plonk the dirty rascal into it. Wait, it gets worse.
We were both sorted into Gryffindor, joined by a girl called Alicia Spinnet. My best friend…his best friend: the only thing we have in common, but catch me on a good day and I'll grudgingly admit we share an interest in Quidditch. Ahhh…yes Quidditch. Somehow the world worked its magic, the jigsaws slid into place and I became a chaser on the Gryffindor team and he became Captain…Captain. He finally had a valid excuse to boss me around. The most annoying thing about that bludger-headed boy is he's all Johnny Quidditch and Mr Serious when it comes to the sport, somehow I manage to bring out the jack ass in him.
I share a best friend, a sport, a school, a building, a home – my life with him. Its not as if I ever have a break, when I go home for the summer holidays he only lives two doors down. He has to come over and talk about Quidditch or, I swear, he'll explode.
When I want to have a girly chat with Alicia, there he is grinning sheepishly , waiting for an opportunity to make a smart ass comment, or engage in one of our famous 'Katie and Oliver: Battle of the Sexes.' We're the modern day Beatrice and Bendick- and look how they turned out. Remember how I said it gets worse, it did-it's gone haywire.
It's the strangest feeling when the thought of kissing someone repulses you, but at the same time makes your knees weaken. When you see them you want to give them a good wallop around the head but then hug them as well.
O.k.…O.k., I admit it! Me Katie Sandra Bell, sworn enemy of Oliver Lewis Wood has a crush on her nemesis. 'How?' do you ask, I have no idea. I've seen him puke, fart, pick his nose and bite his nails. The fact it's a completely forbidden crush doesn't help, it only makes it grow, and what, if for some insane reason I conquer and survive the rocky path into Wood's arm? Not only would it be the movement of the century, what kind of situation would it leave Alicia in? Her two best friends often see pulling each others hair, now kissing in the corridor. Crikey.
I can't talk about it to Alicia and I have a truly horrible feeling that all these strange feelings are going to get bottled up and the next time I see Wood…I'll end up mauling him.
'Katie!'
Here comes Alicia, bounding up the dormitory stairs.
'Mmm…' I mumbled, my way of saying 'Yes, what d'you want?'
'You know that favour, you owe me?' she asked sweetly. How could I forget? Who ever scores the most in a Quidditch practice has the other one at their service, unfortunately today I was distracted by Wood and played awful.
'Mmm…'
'It's not even remotely bad! Nowhere near as awful as the Madam Hooch dare'
'Mmm…'
The Madam Hooch dare has gone down in legend.
'I left my trainers in the changing rooms, its quarter to six…you still have fifteen minutes,' she said. I fell limp and pretended to fall asleep, but was met by a whack from a pillow.
'C'mon! You'll only have to face Oliver!'
After every practise, without fail, he stays for a good half hour to go through his tedious tactics.
'But I'll be there for hours! I guarantee you, we'll still be there in the morning arguing over which Quidditch team is the best or something pathetic like that!' I groaned.
'Shut-up and get on with it!'
'Urghh…fine!' I purposely stamped the floor with my feet, leaving Alicia in a fit of giggles.
Typical, absolutely typical.
