Hey guys I received some really positive feedbacks about starting a long story about KBOW so I decided to give it a shot. I hope you will like it.
I decided this will be more of a humorous romance thing with lots of extra funny scenes of Katie and Oliver, not any heavy melodrama. Read anyway even if you don't usually dig stuff like this.
I solemnly swear that these characters are not mine and they are all up to no good.
Everyone was seated orderly within their Houses Great Hall, excited for another year at Hogwarts. Already the sorting had ended, and tiny squeaky first-years were uncomfortably seated in their newly allocated House dining table, waiting for the Great feast to begin.
At when it does begin, all hell will break loose. Everybody would be acting like scavengers, snatching and grabbing for whichever food they could lay their hands on,as if their life depended on it. Guys will holler, and the girls will scratch each other with their sharp nails, all fighting for that last piece of chicken. Everyone would be an enemy, and this would be war. The war.
Okay, so I am exaggerating just the slightest bit, but you get the message.
But right now, all the students all contently seated, busily jabbering away with their friends what they did this summer. Gossips are being traded, and rumours that Snape is gay was viciously spreading. In short, everybody was happy, enjoying themselves. School has not even started yet.
School has not started yet, but already I was in a full blown argument with Oliver Wood, yelling at each other on top of our lungs.
" YOU ALMOST MADE US LATE KATIE! I CAN'T BELIEVE IT!" He was saying. Or yelling.
" HOW IS THIS MY FAULT? AND WE AREN'T EVEN LATE!" This would be me.
" WE ALMOST MISSED THE TRAIN THANKS TO YOU!"
" DID NOT! AND IT'S NOT MY FAULT IN THE FIRST PLACE!"
" It is too! Why did you have to have so many trunks and clothes! Then we had to go and lift every single one of those bloody heavy things up the train, after spending fifteen minutes trying to find trolleys!"
Ooh, don't talk about my clothes that way. Screw you, Oliver.
" Please! They weren't that heavy! We had to wait for you to finish reciting that so-called brilliant play you made up!" I taunted. This was true. He didn't let anyone even move until he was done much, much later.
" It was brilliant! I wasn't the one who was too busy staring at my bloody reflection for ten hours at home before we left for the train station!"Oliver countered, banging the table.
He just thinks he is so smart, doesn't he?
Take this, Oliver Wood.
" Well I wasn't the one was almost in tears just because he couldn't bring his entire broomstick collection and Quidditch shrine back to Hogwarts !" I retaliated hotly.
" Oh yeah? Well I wasn-"
" Okay guys, cool it! The feast is starting soon! We need to make sure we have enough concentration to snatch all those food we wanted." Angelina Johnson, who was sitting at my other side, spoke up, grinning at me, but at the same time I knew she mean what she said. She was probably bloody pissed with the whole conversation (as every sane person would).
This girl may not look it, but she was totally fierce when it comes to food and Hogwarts Feast.
I wonder why.
" How did you guys know so much about each other anyway? How come you two were at each other's house?" George Weasley, one half of the Terrible Twins, asked me. He was sitting two seats to my opposite, just next to his carbon copy Fred. Both of them practically had mischief written in bold on their faces ever since they were born.
. Oliver and I rolled our eyes at each other instantaneously.
" George, how many times must I tell you this? " I said exasperatedly, whacking him on his red head. He shrugged.
" Er, Twenty three times?"
Of course all of us except Fred and him rolled our eyes simultaneously.
"Well, it seems the great Oliver Wood has moved right next to my house," I told him glumly.
This part was unfortunately true. It was only one week ago, but I thought I could finally relax and really take a break from school and those absolutely horrible Quidditch practice I was forced to attend by Oliver. Anyway, I was super glad at that time, trying to sip iced tea while tanning in the sun, enjoying the peace when suddenly there was this really loud noisy racket that came from next door. I looked up from my Witch Weekly and saw mounds of luggages and furniture stacked untidily in the next door garden. Then Oliver had to show up.
He had pretended to look surprised to see me.
Yes,he actually had the cheek to pretend to be shocked. He probably knew it all along, because when you are in shock, you don't exactly turn up on my bed at five in the morning the next day to play/demand Quidditch.
Needless, to say, I spent the rest of my summer zooming myself around on a broom with Oliver. There were moments where we were able to have fun and we really bonded, but somehow the pain seems to overtake the enjoyment.
So what do you know? One second I was dying to get away from him, the next second we become next door neighbours.
Thank god it was only one week.
Oliver seemed to know what was going through my head that very second, because he looked extremely offended.
" What's wrong with Quidditch?" He asked, frowning.
" Nothing." I said coolly.
" Then what's with the constipated look? I presume its because of the thought of last week with Quidditch?"
Angelina and Alicia have taken to going on about how much Wood and I are squabbling lately. What my two good friends do not seem to know is that Oliver that has serious temper-control issues. When I tried explaining this discovery to them, they simply told me to just give in to Wood because heck, they didn't want to wake up at four in the morning too as punishment. Besides, when he dangles such a tempting bait to tease him how can I not take it?
Of course they had to be completely unsympathetic about my situation.
" Or is it one of those hot looks this season according to Witch Weekly?" he continued. I gritted my teeth.
See. How. Can. I. Not. Argue. With. Him! I'm not going to let him steam-roller me with that comment. I can't.
" For your information, some of us actually prefer to have some sleep rather than stay up obsessing over stupid brooms." I bite back.
I was sure that he was about to shoot back another one of his weak comebacks when suddenly food suddenly magically appeared on the table. Food, as in, food glorious food.
I blinked. Rows of roast chicken and potatoes and sumptuous stew filled up the gleaming golden plates.
Spare me from Oliver. The food is more important.
The battle of words between us came to a halt. It could wait for a while.
Because the War for food has finally begun.
Like, I said, I wasn't kidding when I told you hell breaks lose once the feast begins. Everybody was furiously grabbing as much as they could, stuffing their face quickly. Across the room I could hear Draco Malfoy hissed angrily at some scrawny first year who took the last steak. Even Cedric Diggory was currently in the entangled with some poor Hufflepuff girl who refused to let go of the lamb chop. Meow. Cat fight!
Actually, until today, I have absolutely no idea how one simple meal like this could make even the most refined and polite people lose their manners in an almost-indecent manner.
My plate was still empty when I noticed that Fred Weasley was already on his second serving. Angelina was on her third. I glanced around, only to see that everyone else had already piled food as high as mountains on top of their plates. Panic hit me. WHERE WAS ALL THE FOOD???
Wait. My eyes riveted back to the gold plates on the table. There is still one more roast beef. I flung myself towards it, reaching out...
Only to meet Oliver's hand, which was doing the exact same thing.
I glared. I don't care about Angelina's opinion about Oliver's craziness, but no way am I just letting a cute guy off, especially if he is irritating me. Especially if he is Oliver Wood.
" WHAT IS YOUR PROBLEM!" We both spat, each refusing to let go of that hankered beef.
Like I said, we really bonded over that one week.
It takes exactly six hundred and fifty-two steps to move from the Common Room to Professor McGonagall's office. I know, because I counted.
When you get summoned to the House Head's office, you know something is wrong.
Which is why I refused to touch the Ginger Newts and Butterbeer she offered me seconds ago. What if it has Veritaserum in it? Maybe she wants me to confess about the time Fred broke into the Potions Cupboard. Or that it was George who bewitched the armors to attack the Slytherins.
I mean, seriously think about it. Professor McGonagall offering me Butterbeer? Come on
I was now sitting directly opposite her at her large desk, eyeing the plate of biscuits doubtfully, still not drinking even a sip of Butterbeer. Surely it was not orthodox to force a student with a truth potion? I am pretty sure that there's a Wizard Law restricting the use of Veritaserum somewhere. Section Fifty three, Clause eight or something...
It was in the middle of my thoughts when I heard a 'hem-hem!' cough. Strange. It sounds oddly familiar.
" Is there a reason why you are staring at the biscuits so intently, Miss Bell?"
I looked up, only to see Professor McGonagall staring crossly at me. I must have dazed off for two minutes. Oops.
" No ma'am!" I replied quickly.
"Now that I finally got your attention," She continued, pushing up her rimmed glasses " I would like to talk to you about your , er, academic performances."
It was my turn to stare rudely at her. What was she talking about? My grades were fine! In fact, better than fine. I'm pretty good too, and scored Outstanding for almost everything! So my marks weren't slipping at all. What on earth then, is she talking about?
" It seems that you have been doing well in your school work. Better than well. Excellent, in fact. Perhaps I could go to the extent of even saying that you could easily be one of the brightest witch in your year."
Damn right she was about that. Brightest witch of the year, damn straight!
Wait.
If that is so, what the hell am I doing here???
"But it has unfortunately come to my attention, as well as your Potions Master's, that you are struggling with Potions. Your Potion grades are dismal and atrocious. Not to mention appalling and absolutely mortifying."
Oh. Except that. No need to put it so bluntly, Professor McGonagall.
It wasn't that I couldn't do Potions. I just hate it.
Potions is probably one of the most useless subject invented in Hogwarts history. The teacher sucked, the textbook sucked, the topic sucked. Everything about it in general sucked. What was the whole point of chucking random herbs inside a cauldron anyway? It doesn't make sense at all. Gibberish.
Seriously, the world doesn't really care if I can make a really good Shrinking Potion? NO. Exactly.
So you see, this is why I don't ace Potions, and its no big secret,
" As you should know, your exams are coming very soon (how can it? The term just begun!). I am worried that you may not be able to cope Katie. In fact, I was rather surprise to hear that from Professor Snape. A student like you should have no problem passing Potions even if you don't have an aptitude in it."
Oh so it was that Snape who bad mouth me! That stinking ass. Wait till I get my hands on him...
" Whatever it is, Katie, both you and I know that you can do a lot better, especially since this is your NEWT year. Even if you detest it." As Professor McGonagall said that, she lifted an eyebrow at me, as if to say she knew about something. I gulped, shrinking back in my seat.
Like I told you before, me hating Potion is not exactly a big secret.
But what could I do? Here was my Head of House threatening me verbally to fall in love with the subject I hate, otherwise she would probably hex me or give me loads of detention. Neither options sounded very appealing.
But then again, I only had two choices. One, to fail Potions deliberately, and then suffer the wrath of McGonagall, my parents, Snape and every other person, all who would roast me alive of throw me off a broomstick.
Two, try to do a little better Potions, and hopefully everything will be fine. Or not.
I would pick the latter anyday.
" So do we have an understanding here, Miss Bell?" McGonagall interrupted.
I sighed. Life wasn't going to be easy.
" Yes, Professor." I said grudgingly.
" Good." She said briskly, giving a satisfied nod. " You may go."
As I left her office that night, I knew that my final year at Hogwarts, was going to be one bloody hell.
Okay first I would like to say sorry for the lack of KBOW romancing so far.
Then next I hope you don't find this chapter boring or uninformative or anything. While it may seem all very predictable or cliché so far I just want to say that it will get better as it goes, this is just really a start.
Thirdly I decided to change Oliver and Katie to be in the same year. Makes the story easier, and I can abuse my fan fic writing privilege. Muhahahahaha!
Last and most importantly, REVIEW! REVIEW!REVIEW!