August 30th a.k.a. Hogwarts Express Hell
Today I woke up early to finish up my last minute packing. I was pretty much torn by giddyness at the prospect of seeing my friends all day everyday and the sadness at leaving behind a summer vacation of sleeping late and no homework. I was tossing my robes and textbooks into my trunk when Kitely, my brown-speckled owl named for the maker of chocolate frogs--don't ask it was the twins' idea, dive bombed into my window with a painful sounding 'splat!'.
I chuckled evily (the kind of gulity laugh you use when you can't help but snicker at quidditch practice when someone falls off their broom) and jogged over to open the window for my newly bruised owl. Kitely wobbled drunkenly and managed to teeter over to my bed before collapsing, where I greedily snatched up the letter he carried. I read the first sentance and skipped to the signature:
So I was thinking we'd meet at compartment 23. Oh, and bring money. The twins said they can't afford to buy us anything. Saving up for some stupid scheme, I expect. Oh well.
Love, Ange
Stuffed the note into my jean pocket for future reference -- like when the compartment number drops out of my feeble short term memory-- and headed to the car where Dad was waiting to drop me off at station 9 and three quarters.
The station was a swarm of half grown wizards and witchs all of whom I at least half recognized. Besides the first years of course. Watching those innocently nervous 11-year-olds reminds me of my very first trip to station 9 and three quarters.
I was scared and unsure if this entire "magic-thing" was real or some elabrite joke. Like a reality TV show that duped kids into believeing some stupid lie and then brodcasted their stupidity for the entire world to point and laugh at,while they sat on their couches stuffing popcorn into their mouths. I was busy eye-balling that station for hidden cameras when I ran into Angleina, who came from a magic family, she set me straight and we have been friends ever since.
OK, flash back over! Back to today. I was surveying the mob-scene for signs of my best friends-- like too red streaks for the twins or a mass of dark ringlets that frame Alica's face-- when I felt a shy tap of my back. I turned to face Harry Potter.
Here I mentally dug up my "Harry File". Harry is two years younger than me with un-nervingly green eyes and black hair that I seriously doubt he combs. He plays seeker on the Griffyndor Quidditch team, where I, myself, hold the position of chaser along with Ange and Alica. I also knew that Harry's best friends were a tall and gangly red head who I recognised as Fred and George's favorite brother (though that never saved him from their panks) and a bushey haired know-it-all named Hermoine Granger who I always stuck up for (despite my loathing for anyone who manages above a P in potions) because she is a fellow muggle-born. But, unquestionably the most important thing about Harry is that he defeated You-Know-Who when he was just a baby by living when he was supposed to die (personnally I don't understand what that did even though Ange has explained it to me douzens of times.) Well, anyways, me and Harry got on pretty well together and several times last year had a laugh at Wood's long winded and melodramatic pep talks.
"Oh, hey Harry."
"Hi Katie. I came with the Weasleys so I thought I'd tell you where Fred and Geogre are. Save you the trouble of savenging the whole station. They're over there trying to convince some first years that Dumbledore quit proffessional wrestling to become head master and that he isn't afraid to use his 'moves' on disobediant 11-year-olds. Personally, I think their just scared that one of them might try to challenge their title as the school's personal pranksters. Steal some of their thunder or something. . ."
I snickered and thanked Harry before heading off where he had pointed me. The two twin gits quickly noticed me and abandoned their audience of gaping-mouthed short people to greet me.
"Hia Kates!"
"Hi guys. Good holidays?"
"Well, as good as a holiday where Percy is mentioned (and being an even greater prick than usual) can be," answered George.
"How 'bout you, Katie?" was Fred (I'm actually pretty much always right about who is who after 5 years of friendship.)
"Uh, OK. I was just scared that maybe the last 5 years was just some weird dream and the entire magical world came out of my slightly demented mind and now I'm condemed to a life of Muggle-ness. And oh, crap now we have to walk into the wall. God, no many how many times I do this it always looks soooo freaking solid!"
The twins snorted and George offered to go first while Fred would go last because if I was left alone I might chicken out and never make it through. So, when it was my turn I sucked in a deep breath and tried to look confident as I walked briskly towards the apparently solid wall. Half way throught not only did my nerve start to break, but my deep breath started to come out of me in a weird kind of squeeky sound. This made Fred crack up behind me but it was better than last year when I actually had to repeat it 3 times before mustering the courage. What ever hapened to brave Griffindor??
When I made it through the barior where the wall became a saparate station I imediately ran into Oliver Wood, my quidditch captain. Apparently he and George (the other genius) had decided to chat about this year's team. . .right infront of the gate! Damn stupid jocks. Oh, wait I'm considered the jockiest girl in the school. Hmm ok: damn jocky guys. (Who I sort of happen to be friends with.)
This collision knocked me down whereas Oliver (who was 6 feet tall with a very muscular but not bulky build and apparently felt like a big rock when you run into him) barely flinched.
"Hi Katie! We were just talking about the team! Chasers, actually. What do you think about faking pocession?" said Oliver, who apparently as uncontious of other's injuries as last year, before he reached a hand down to help me up.
But before I could grasp my quidditch-obcessed captain's hand Fred came barging through the barior where he tripped over me (as I was still lounging on the ground) and flew into Oliver. Much to my juvenile "I-got-hurt-first-so-he-deserves-to-too" satisfaction Oliver stumbled back this time (apparently Fred's heavier than me) and looked mildly shaken.
Apparently Fred was also rather pleased with himself (probably glad to get back at Oliver after all of those extremely crazy, win-or-die-trying practices) because he had a grin on his face as he pulled me up, saying cockily "My fair lady", and later offered no apology to Oliver.
"OK, guys lets get a move on and find that compartment Angelina said. . .23, I think. .. because as entertaining as watching the whole school trample into Katie and Oliver would be I don't want the train to leave without us. Remember when Ron and Harry destroyed Dad's car after getting left behind?" George suggested before he and Fred cracked up, obsorbed in their gleeful memory of Ron's red-enough-to-match-his-hair face as he and Harry were dragged into the Grand Hall by Snape (who looked particularly murderous, I might add.)
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The last thing I heard as Fred propped open the door to compartment 23 before being swamped in a massive hug that came from my littlest friend (how she manages to wrap you up when she's so dang tiny I'll never know) was a high pitched but happy yelp from Ange. And my "littlest friend" as I so oddly just refered to her is, of course, Alica.
As Alica moved so that Ange could hug me too I heard Fred mumble something about "not hugging him half as often." I was the only one who heard and cracked up in mid-hug and when Ange released me I hugged him myself telling him that he would have to make do with my hugs. This brightened him up consderably and we were sharing several canarie creams and chocolate frogs when we heard a rough pound on the wall of our compartment and Lee Jordan's uniquely cordial voice acompanyed with some grunts which we all automatically atributed to the less-than-brainy Slytherins.
"Oh, what has our charming but somewhat mentally incompitant friend got himself into?" asked Fred in a tone that sweet old women used at tea parties before he and his twin pressed their ears to the compartment wall (Or at least I think its the tone sweet old women use at tea parties. I've never been to a tea party and I don't think I know any sweet old women. Unless of course Twany's class counts. I mean she isn't exactly young and she does have quite a lot of tea, but sweet?)
I strained my ears hard to hear the muffled voices.
"Why hullo gents!" Lee said in mock cheerfullness. Or he could actually be cheerful (you can never tell with Lee.)
"What are you up to?" said some stupid, blockheaded Slytherin. What an original intimidating question guys.
Obviously undaunted, Lee replyed, " Oh, thought I'd look in on some friends. . .have a good laugh about how Griffyndor slaughtered Slytherin last year for the cup. . . you know, just the usual."
Hearing about last year's victory made me grin, even though I was scared for my friend's life. Fred, George and Oliver gingerly hopped up and flung open the door followed closely by the rest of us, before the situation could elevate any.
"Ah, Lee! Yes, we thought we heard your voice." said Fred with an inapropriately large grin for the situation.
"Just telling these fine blokes our plans, were you?" said George with an identical grin as he gesture to the Slytherins who turned out to be Finch and two of his random minions who I regonised from the quidditch team.
I looked over at Oliver who was visably trying not to laugh because it had been Finch (Slytherin captain) to whom Lee mentioned our victory. I surveyed Finch and his dry, badly-in-need-of-lotion face was, indeed, a particular shade of purple from Lee's coment, followed by Oliver's appearance. I also started to laugh uncontrolably and wasn't as considerate as Oliver so I made no attempt to hide it.
"What's so funny, Bell?" asked Finch who was still atempting a rough-guy atitude, though his purple face and slightly cracked voice ruined it entirely and his words started me onto a new wave of snorts.
Oliver apparently saw I was in no condition to answer and was obviously having a hard time containing his satisfaction with last year so he spoke for me: "Well, I expect she's laughing at the color of your face (a sort of light maroon) in need of lotion by the way, too, and the way your voice is cracking like a 13-year-old's after their first wet dream."
At this everyone joined me in laughing and we pulled Lee into the compartment while Finch sputtered in indignation and his minions looked as if they were thinking of posting their resimes to find more suitable employment. Hmmm... that makes me wonder exactly what their resemes would look like.. . Probably something a little like this:
Large, but stupid brutes looking for a new pure blood, evil leader to think for us
Talents:
1. Looking menacing
2. Following prementioned leader no matter how stupid they sound
3. Making everyone in our vicinidy look smart by comparison
Maybe I'll post it on for them.
The rest of the train ride was pretty uneventful. Oliver balthered on about quidditch while we nodded and pretended to listen. The twins licked the "Muggle candy" gummy bears I had got for them and tried to make them stick to the ceiling. And of course we all practiced our Snape impersonations which (strangely enough) Angelina is the best at. Who knew my pretty, athletic best friend had such odd hidden talents. (Though, odd as that talent is, I can't help but be insanely jealous. I mean what if we got some some polyjuice potion, tyed up the real Snape and had Ange act the part? Oh, the posibilities...)
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Hours later the train haulted abruptly which caused the little (both short and slight) Alica to be fulng from her seat into George's lap which cause George to smirk and mutter something about "animal magnetism" to Oliver until Alica set him straigh with a playful (but still I imagine hard) slap.
I was still laughing about this episode when we filed out of the large, black train and were pushed by Hagrid into the nearest carrage.
"Ever wonder what pulls these things?" I ask to no one inparticular.
"Yeah, almost like something out of the Twighlight Zone," said Fred in a fake '50s anouncer voice which caused George to break into the "oooooooooooooo" sound affects.
"Shut up, you two," said Ange dismisably,"It really is a bit odd when you think about it."
"Oh, don't mind it. It like asking what pulls brooms up into the air -- its just some cookey magic," said Oliver.
"Wow, wayda prove your amasing ability of relating anything to quidditch," I said sarcastically and watched as Oliver broke into a sheepish grin.
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The Great Hall was as grand as ever with the ceiling plastered with a perfect imitation of the night sky. We headed over to Griffyndor table and sat by Ginny, Harry, Ron, and Hermonie. The sorting wasn't as interesting as it once was, I mean come on this is my 6th year. I've watched the same rutine 5 years running. Random 11-year-olds who are nothing to me now but jumbled names and faces that are pretty darn close to the ground join our table and later these names beggin to mean something to me and the faces get closer in height to mine. Bor-ing. So I watched as Harry allowed Fred and George try on his glasses. Pretty entertaining really. They almost look. . .smart. Wow. I mean the twins are people smart, and prank smart, quidditch smart, and inventing smart. . .definately not book smart. Let's just leave it at that.
Next came Dumbledore's speech. I sat up straighter for this -- they're always entertaining. But just as his twinkling blue eyes looked down at us fondly and he began in a relaxed voice to welcome us back, a short and squat woman who I judged rightly to be the new Defense Against the Dark Art's teacher interupted him with an annoyingly and slickly sweet cough. It was a cutesy, little girly cough that seemed strange coming from a rough and pug-faced woman. hem hem. Like that. I don't know exactly what about that cough infuriated me but, well, what ever the reason it did.
She then stood up, almost pushing our head master aside and began to talk about "ministry-aproved" something or other. I zoned out quicky enough but I heard Hermoine Granger explain to Harry and Ron that it meant that that the Ministry was interfearing with Hogwarts.
Scary thought really. I could be walking down the hall one day and run into Fuge. What a nightmare.
I'm in my dorm now and Ange and Alica are already snoring (they both claim they don't snore! Sheesh, what a joke.) Better get some sleep so I'm not a bumbling fool on my first day. Night!
A/N Wow, my fingers are absolutely numb. Please review and I apologise for any spelling mistakes (my spell checks not working). Hope you liked it and if you don't please tell me why in a review (I'm not that sensative) && now I'm off to apply ice to my poor dead hands!
Disclaimer: not mine!
cheerio!