A/N: Sorry I've taken so long guys, my computer went mental again and so I lost the chapter, and had to type it up again. Grr. Oh well. I didn't actually get that many reviews for the last chapter, but I got a fair few for other ones, so thanks guys! I really appreciate the feedback. :D
Okay, is it just me or does FanFiction seem a little screwy lately? I tried posting this like a bazillion times last night, and it wouldn't work. This is about the fifth time I've tried to post it tonight, and guess what? It finally worked! ... And now it's not letting me put in the liney things to seperate the paragraphs. Grr. Okay, well, I'll put up '0000'. Sorry guys, best I can do... I'm guessing it might not be updated for a while otherwise.
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January 14th
Is it illegal to read other people's mail? I hope not, because if so I have a high-security padded cell at Azkaban waiting for me right now. And I wouldn't be able to get out like whats-his-name did, because I'm not smart or crazy.
"Katie!" Alicia's sounding shocked as she looks over my shoulder. Ha, like it's hard. Anyway, I'm reading Lee's letter from his parents. For some reason or other, he and the twins haven't shown up yet, and I thought the owl looked like it wanted to get rid of it's dreadful burden. So then I relieved it of it's package, with full intention of placing the letter next to me and not giving it another glance…
Yeah, right. So I might have been a tad curious about why his parents would send him an owl like two weeks after the holidays, when they could have just seen him. Oh, wait. They dumped him on us for some country on the other side of the world. Oh well. So would I if I were them.
"What's up?" Ange asks all cheerily, like she so doesn't know we have double potions first up tomorrow. Seriously, we get in that room and Snape glares at me for ten minutes straight, rubbing his red marks that clash with his dead-for-three-days complexion, and then growls out an order. Then he goes back to staring venomously at the six of us- mostly me, because of the whole fainting-in-his-class thing.
Sheesh. You'd think he'd actually care that I passed out because of a severe allergy, but according to George he was all, "How dare she faint in my class! Hasn't she done enough to me already? She's making my pathetic existence even more pathetic!"
Of course, I have my doubts about the last line. It doesn't really sound like something Snape would say. Wretched, maybe. But I don't think he'd say pathetic twice.
"What're you-" Fred begins, then he looks over Ange's shoulder, who's looking over Alicia's shoulder, who's looking over mine, and he snickers. "Did little Leroy get a letter from his mummy?"
Whoa, can you say harsh or what? Fred's just jealous because his mum practically stalks him, and Lee's mum practically doesn't know how old he is.
Which reminds me. I'm pretty sure it's Lee's birthday today. And- oh, shit! I forgot to get him a present, because I kind of figured I still had months left to get one. But I think I was confusing his birthday with mine. I am so stupid. If I didn't come top of the year in Defence Against the Dark Arts back in first year, I would seriously go get a tutor.
Except the only person who's older than me that I would actually consider asking is Oliver, and he would probably spend his time drawing brooms rather than taking notes on how to remove your opponent's bones.
"'Dearest Leroy,'" Fred says dramatically, reading aloud from the parchment while clutching his heart and looking pained. "'Your father and I are pleased to report that our business meetings have gone well, and we should be returning home to England today. We have also decided that you should meet us in Hogsmeade today, as a celebration for your birthday. Unfortunately we can't stay long-'"
"Thank God," George mutters.
"'-So we would like to meet for lunch, rather than the customary evening meal.'" Fred snorts. "Who even says 'evening meal'? They sound like wankers to me."
That's a bit harsh when you're talking about your best friend's parents. It's not like I would call Alicia's parents morons, even though they totally are on account of that time they went ape at me because I set their thing-that-cooks-bread on fire. How was I supposed to know it automatically cooks the bread? And I would never call Ange's parents losers, even though they pretty much are because one time when they were trying to dress the muggle way her dad wore a kilt.
"Who's a wanker?" A voice asks from behind us, and we all whirl around in surprise. I hand him his stupid yellow coffee cup- no coffee in it, I'm not that nice- and grin awkwardly.
"Um, Cedric Diggory!" I yell, pointing him out as he passes our table. He always comes in handy just at the right moment. Cedric just gives a kind of weird look and scurries away as fast as he can. Poor kid. It must suck being afraid of a bunch of teenagers the same age as you.
"Yeah, he is a wanker," Lee agrees, sitting down next to me. He pulls the piece of parchment out of my hand and examines it.
"Well?" Angelina finally prods, after what seems like hours of silence. "What does it say?" She's the only one I know who could say that and not smirk. I'm not sure if that's a compliment or not, but whatever. It's true.
"It-" Lee tries to choke out, but he shakes his head and takes a big gulp of coffee. It's like his lifeline, or something. When you're that addicted to coffee that you turn to it in dire situations, you know you might be just a little addicted. One day, I am so going to give him de-caff just to see the withdrawal symptoms.
"It's from my parents," he says after a moment of gazing at the letter in horror. "They want to meet me at Hogsmeade today."
"Oh," I say, after winking at the group surreptitiously, "is that all?"
There's a deliberate pause, and Lee suddenly asks, "Why were you winking?" He raises an eyebrow at me, calmly setting his coffee cup down.
"Winking? What? I wasn't winking, I swear! It was- I have a severe eye twitch!" I burst out, turning around to the others in a desperate plea for help. Needless to say, they don't and I'm kind of stuck in a verbal rut. God, I hate being a bad liar. I have the lie all planned out in my head and then I open my fat trap and it never comes out the way I want it to.
"Right." Lee doesn't look convinced. "You know you're coming with me, right?"
"Excuse me?" My jaw's dropped, and I think I've set a new record for highest eyebrow raise. "If you think that I have some sort of obligation to meet your parents because I'm your girlfriend, you have another thing coming, buddy, because I have news for you! I am not-"
Lee's voice cuts through my semi-feminist rant. "No, retard. You want to meet them, remember?"
No, actually, I don't, Lee. As if I would want to! Maybe I was wasted when I said that. Maybe it's all in his teeny tiny little brain, and I never really said anything like that. It was probably more along the lines of, "Lee, your parents scare me as they are the ones responsible for raising you and look how you turned out. I never want to meet them as long as I live, and oh, by the way, Fred thinks your parents are wankers."
Yeah. 'Cause that would've gone down a treat.
"New Year's Eve? We had that fight-"
"Another one?" Alicia cuts in with a sigh. "You guys really need to go to relationship counselling, because at this rate you are going to-"
"-And it was raining and cold, and you were all, 'I want to meet your parents, Lee!'-"
"-Have an aneurism before you're twenty, or one of you will-"
"-And then I tried to talk you out of it, but you wouldn't listen. You just kept yelling at me, didn't you accept a drink from your brother? Because that might explain-"
"-Poke the other's eye out with a sharpened spork."
When Alicia says that, everyone shuts up and just stares at her. I swear, that girl has some serious issues, not the least of which is her remarkable fixation on sporks. I mean, yeah, they're a cross between a spoon and a fork, they have a cool name, but come on, people! It's a freaking utensil, for God's sake!
"Er, don't worry, Leesh, the only time I'll be poking Lee's eye out with a sharpened spork is if he makes me go to Madame Puffifeet's to meet his parents. Although," I add as an afterthought, "it'll probably be a pink spork in the shape of a heart, and I'm sure Lee will like that."
Lee glowers at me. "You wanted to meet them," he bites out, "so you will."
Hmm. There's a note of finality in his tone, so I resort to drastic measures: sticking out my tongue. "You can't make me," I say in a sing-song voice, which causes the surrounding students to groan and clap their hands over their ears.
Okay, so I'll never be crowned 'Miss Hogwarts Talent'. I get that. Can't they just leave me alone already?
"I can make your brother make you," he replies smugly. Bastard. Still, he could get the wrong brother- it's not like Alex could make me do anything, his glasses would probably fall off his nose and he'd run away crying.
There's no other option. I'm going to have to suffer through it, and if I make it out alive, I can beat Lee with a brick later. Only kidding- that would be too lenient.
"Can't Ange and Alicia and Fred and George come too?" I whine. Maybe if I adopt a really whiny tone, he'll be all, 'Just shut up already! Stay here, I can't take any more of your whining!'
"No! I have to, um, clip my toenails!" Fred bursts out, desperation creeping into his pathetic little voice. Grr. Now I'll need to two bricks.
"And I have to, um, help him!" Angelina says, looking distinctly panicked. She nudges Alicia, who was sort of staring off into space with a terrified expression on her face.
"I have to dig a hole," Alicia says solemnly, even though the idea of dirt disgusts her. Sometimes I wonder why she's a Quidditch player, until she actually gets on the broom, and I go, "Oh, that's why," as she gets like three goals in a row.
It's only George left. Will he bail out on me as well? "I just don't want to go," he admits, shrugging his shoulders. "Sorry, all the good excuses were taken."
"Looks like it's you and me, Bell," Lee says cheerfully, as though the idea of having someone along somehow makes the whole ordeal more pleasant.
"Yay for me," I mutter miserably. Not even the temptation of pancakes in front of me is enough to make me look for the silver lining. Since when do clouds have silver linings, anyway? The only lining of a cloud I've ever seen is purple, and I don't think freaking purple linings are going to be much of a help when I'm stuck in a room that looks like a pink teapot with Lee's parents.
Still. I could always claim I'm allergic to girlishness. Do you think they'd go for that?
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"It's cold."
"It's winter," Lee replies mildly as we hike up the hill towards Hogsmeade. He wouldn't let us take the secret passage because apparently that's 'only for emergencies' and the fact that I currently resemble a vertically challenged icicle isn't enough of an emergency for him to turn around and go back.
"I think I feel an allergy coming on," I press. "I should really go see Madam Pomfry about that…" I half turn around, but Lee's arm reaches out to grab me before I can actually take a step.
"You're fine, Bell. Well, physically, anyway. Not so sure about mentally…" He smirks and keeps going, leaving me to reluctantly trail along after him.
Jeez. What sort of prick doesn't care if his girlfriend is potentially about to die of an allergic reaction? I could really be allergic to pollen, and then we'd have some trouble.
Well, you know, apart from the fact that it's winter and all. If it were spring, on the other hand…
"Here we are," Lee tells me, pulling me out of my vengeful thoughts. If he thinks I'm going to be all, 'Wow, thanks Lee, I had a brilliant time!', he has another thing coming.
"How are we supposed to find them? It's not like they said were they'd be or anything." I was just using Madame Puffifeet's as an example before. No real person would ever go there. Hogsmeade's pretty busy, today, so we'll probably find them at the Three Broomsticks.
"If I know my mother, she'll be at-" Lee looks down at me guiltily.
"No." I state bluntly.
"I knew you especially wouldn't come if I told you before, but you did say-"
"No. Freaking. Way." I glare at him. I can't believe he tricked me! Doesn't he know that if I step foot in there I might have a heart attack? I think then he'll be the one afraid of my brothers.
"Ka-tie," he whines. Ha. Now who's the pathetic whiner, buddy? It's not me. "I'll do anything if you come with me this one time."
"I don't know," I begin slowly. I'll drag it out as long as possible, just to annoy him. Oh well. It's nothing less than he deserves.
"Hang on a minute!" He yells, pointing an accusing finger at me. Oh, great. What have I done this time? "It's my birthday! You have to!"
"Okay, listen up, buddy," I raise an eyebrow and poke him in the chest. "First of all, I don't care if it's your birthday at the moment, because at the moment, I hate you. Second of all, who wants to see their parents on their birthday? And thirdly, no way in hell are you getting me down this mountain." With that final statement I sit down cross legged on the ground, and start to twiddle my thumbs. Well, what else am I supposed to do? Become acutely aware of how the snow soaks into my pants? Er, I don't think so.
There. I showed him.
Then, he does a very surprising thing. He plonks himself down on the snow next to me, even though he's austerely avoided sitting in the snow ever since that time when he got locked in my trunk that was practically buried in the snow.
About ten minutes passes, and no one says anything. Ha, now he'll be late for his meeting with his beloved parents. The parents he loves so much that he's willing to go to Madame Puffifeet's just to see.
"Why are we sitting here?" He asks, finally. We've kind of been having a silent twiddling thumbs competition, to see who could twiddle them the fastest. I won.
"Because," I answer, trying to think of a reason as I go along, "you won't let me go back and I won't let you go forward." Hey, that almost sounded smart. Cool.
"Then why don't you go back and I go forward?" Lee suggests, but he doesn't bother moving.
"Because you don't want to go to Madame Puffifeet's along," I reply, shuddering at the idea of going in there at all, especially alone, "and I don't want to go back to Hogwarts alone in case I see our friends doing something that I don't want to see. Like playing Gobstones."
"Why don't we compromise, like normal people?" He smirks, then flicks some snow at me.
Er, because we're not normal? I don't say that to Lee, though, because he might take offence at being called weird. Even though we all know he is.
"Because," I say with a sigh, rolling my eyes. Some people are just so clueless. "I don't want to go, and you can't make me. So there."
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He made me. He so made me. I can't believe he made me!
"Amazing what a bit of persuasion can do, isn't it?" He grins as we approach Madame Puffifeet's, and see all the couples all over each other. This place is such a bad influence on the little children of Hogwarts- I swear I just saw a couple of second years. And let me tell you, those little twelve-year-olds weren't playing dollies.
I choose to respond to that comment in the wisest way possible- that is, hit him over the head. Or at least, as much of his head as I can reach.
"Leroy!" Oh, God no. I thought I'd have at least a few more minutes to prepare myself for the onslaught of expensive perfume that Lee's mother has lathered herself with. It's so bad that my eyes start watering, and she looks at me. "Now is not the place to cry, dear."
If I had more guts, I would glare at her. But I don't, so I just nod and wipe my watering eyes on my sleeve, trying not to inhale her perfume. It smells kind of like wet dog crossed with lavender.
I notice Lee's not crying. Hmm. Maybe he's used to it. Maybe it kills off all your brain cells, which would certainly explain why he failed his Herbology exam last year. On the other hand, it might have had something to do with the fact that he fed his plant rat poison 'just to see what it would do'. Yeah, right. What do you think it would do, Lee? Flourish?
"Happy birthday," Lee's dad tells him, stepping forward to give him a handshake. I mean, who gives their kid a handshake on their birthday? "Here's your present." He gives Lee a small, neatly wrapped box. If this were my family, we would have wrapped each other's presents in as garish colours as we could possible find, and then maybe tie it with a gaudy ribbon.
"Thanks," Lee replies, putting it in his pocket. "I love it."
Apparently Lee's parents don't realise that their son hasn't even opened it, because his mother nods distractedly and pats him on the shoulder, saying, "We knew you would. That's why we got Betty to buy it for you."
I raise an eyebrow at Lee and mouth, "Betty?" What sort of person has a personal assistant or whatever she is named Betty?
Sometimes, I really think I put too much emphasis on people's names. After all, it's not their fault they had parents that were particularly cruel when choosing names. I mean, you'd have to be cruel to go through a baby book or whatever and go, "You know, I think I'll call my kid Bluebell."
"I'm in a bit of a rush, so how about we go order our food now?" Mrs Jordan asks firmly, already leading the way before either Lee or his dad could answer.
Okay, Madame Puffifeet's? Yeah, it's every bit the nightmare I've always imagined it to be. There is a pink doormat. A pink doormat! What sort of creep puts a pink doormat at the front of their business? Whatever. Rhetorical question, I suppose.
Anyway, even though Lee's a prick for bringing me here, he must have a tiny little conscience because he grabs my hand as we enter, presumably to make sure I don't faint or something. Ha. As if I would faint. I've never fainted in my life. Well, apart from that thing last week with the allergic reaction.
The floor is pink and white. A pink and white floor… yeah, I won't bother saying what that reminds me of. The walls are pink and red, making the room feel smaller than it actually is. Maybe the decorator was going for a charming vibe, but I am so feeling claustrophobic right now.
The tables are these little heart-shaped bits of plastic, and the chairs are so flimsy I doubt they can even hold my weight. Because, let's face it. I am not a stick like Alicia. But she keeps telling me it's because I'm a Quidditch player, and muscles weigh more than fat. Oh yeah, 'Lic? Then how come you don't weigh fifteen hundred pounds?
… Not that I weigh that much. At least, I hope not. Ha, imagine if I did… I don't think I'd fit on the train going back home, and I couldn't ride Buckeye again because I'd break his back and also because Hagrid banned me from riding him after like twenty muggles saw me on him. Oh well, I'm sure they were all remarkably happy after the Obliviators were done with them.
"Bell. Earth to Katie," Lee says, waving a hand in front of me.
"Huh?" I blink and swat his hand away, and both of his parents are staring at me with their eyebrows raised. God, I hope I wasn't doing that drooling thing that Oliver sometimes does when he's thinking. It's so gross, and you just watch it drip and drip and drip-
"What do you want?" Lee asks in a falsely pleasant voice, sliding the menu towards me and grinning maniacally at his parents, who both smile back awkwardly.
Hmm. What do I want? This is really the most pathetic menu I've ever seen. It's only cemented the idea in my head that this place really is for girls who don't eat anything other than half a shred of celery and their idiotic try-hard boyfriends who want to please them.
"I want something with more than ten calories," I snap, glaring at the menu which mostly consists of 'no-fat, sugar-free cookies', and 'no-fat, no-sugar, no-carbs yoghurt'. I have a question for these chefs- how do you bake cookies without sugar? Even I know that cookies taste shit without half a packet of sugar in them.
"You must try and watch your weight at your age, dear," Mrs Jordan breaks the tense silence following my outburst. She takes a tiny sip of her water and places the floral cup back down delicately. "You wouldn't want to become any more… solid than you already are."
No. Way. Lee's mum just called me fat? I'll show her fat, the stupid cow-
"Just because you don't eat anything, Patricia, doesn't mean that girls these days think the same way," Lee's father says mildly, sounding strangely like Lee.
Mrs Jordan chokes on what little water she drank. "Excuse me?" I think she's a bit more surprised by the fact that her husband actually spoke rather than the fact that girls now actually like to eat more than a square of low fat cheese for lunch.
But I think Lee's dad has used up his daily quota of words, because he just smiles amiably and reaches to take one of the no-fat, no-sugar cookies that have just been placed in the middle of our stupid heart shaped table.
"In that case," I say, smirking to myself at how gob-smacked Lee's mum looks, "I think I'll have a sundae with the lot." I mean, sure, the toppings will all be 'no-sugar, no-flavour' but I think I'll be able to handle it.
Mrs Jordan clasps a hand over her heart. "Are you sure? These chairs are very unstable…"
Lee groans and slips further down his seat in embarrassment. I am never going to let him live this down- his mother took us to Madame Puffifeet's and then told me I was so fat I'd break the chairs.
"Which reminds me," she continues, oblivious to Lee glaring at her and her husband's raised eyebrows, "how do you know Lee? I've never met any of his little friends before…"
Kill me now. Please. "Um…" I look to Lee for support; I have no idea how to answer! "My name is Katie Bell, no middle name. I am fifteen and…" It takes me a moment to figure out the months. "Seven months, twenty-one days. I think. I'm a Chaser on the Gryffindor Quidditch team and I originate from… some part in England." Oh, God. I've forgotten where I live! Way to make an impression on your boyfriend's mother, Katie. Forget where you live.
But at least I remembered the country, so that's something. I could have said India or something, and then she would have thought I'm a real freak, what with my blonde hair and all.
Lee's mother purses her lips. "No, I don't think you're quite understanding me. How long have you been…" Another awkward throat clear, and she looks back up at me seriously. "Courting?"
This time, I can't help it. I burst out laughing, much to the surprise of Lee's parents. Lee, on the other hand, anticipated it and slides so far down the chair only his head can be seen, which is saying something when you think about how tall he is. Hmm… I wonder where the rest of him went?
"I dunno." I shrug and dig into my sundae, trying not to laugh hysterically again and spray it everywhere. I don't think Mrs Jordan would take too kindly to a mixture of no-fat, no-sugar, no-flavour sundae and my spit on her immaculate top.
She'd probably go and get a tetanus injection.
"I see." Lee's mum takes a moment to collect her thoughts, and then she clasps her hands together the way the bad guys in Alicia's movies always do. "I was under the impression that all…well bred young ladies kept count of how long they have been seeing their spouse?"
This is so awkward I can hardly bear it. "I guess I'm not well bred, then," I tell her stiffly. It's a wonder Lee survived his first eleven years with her! God, you think about how this woman is so anal retentive, and then compare it to the state of Lee's dormitory, and you wonder how they could possibly be related.
Maybe Percy Weasley is her real child. And, okay, highly unlikely considering that Lee's parents are dark and Percy has orange hair, but whatever. He's their child in spirit, anyway.
"Mum, don't you have a meeting to go to?" Lee asks suddenly, hope lighting up his eyes.
Mrs Jordan looks surprised. "Well, yes, come to think of it, I do." She stands up and brushes non-existent food from her skirt- she never even order anything apart from celery carved in the shape of a heart, which she didn't eat anyway. "Good bye, Kaitlyn, it was lovely to meet you," she says, nodding at me.
"Katie," I mutter angrily. But I smile brightly and stick my hand out, which Mrs Jordan purposely ignores as if I have the Plague or something. The look on her face as she glances at it says it all for me- she thinks I have some kind of lethal disease. Well guess what, buddy? I think you have serious issues, not the least of which include saying courting and calling a pair of fifteen (okay, Lee's now sixteen… whatever) year olds each other's spouses.
As soon as the Jordans take one step away, Lee grabs my arm and hisses into my ear, "Run for it!" We take off up the hill as fast as we can, but I reach the top like five full minutes before Lee, on account of how he can't run a hundred metres without getting a stitch.
We don't really talk much on the way back to Hogwarts. I don't talk because I'm too busy plotting revenge against both Lee and his family- Lee because it was his fault I met them, and his family for saying I'm not 'well bred'. Of course I'm well bred! I mean, I can't dance, sew, knit or anything, but that went out like two hundred years ago. Now it's all about being able to fly a broom. Oh yeah, and also because of the 'you might break the chair' comment.
Lee's probably not talking because he's plotting revenge against me for making him take me in the first place, although I have to admit I don't even remember that so therefore there's a chance that he was making it up and I never really said any such thing.
When we get up to the Gryffindor common room I flop down on the nearest couch, which incidentally is holding Alicia and Ange. They're talking quietly (well, quietly for them, anyway), but when I sit down, making the couch emit a huge creak! They turn to me eagerly.
"How'd it go?" Ange asks, moving over.
I smirk at her. "I sat down in the snow for half an hour because I didn't want to go, and when Lee finally managed to make me, his parents called me fat and said that I'd break the flimsy little chairs in Madame Puffifeet's. Also, his mother accused me of being weird because I don't know how long Lee and I have been going out. I'm not weird!" I cry defensively, but Alicia and Ange just look at each other and laugh their heads off.
When Alicia finally manages to calm herself down, she turns to me and goes, "How did Lee manage to get you down the hill, anyway? You're kind of…"
"Pig headed?" Ange supplies.
Alicia considers it, then nods. "Not the eloquent phrasing I was going for, but yeah."
"Oh." This part is kind of embarrassing. "Well, he said he'd owl my brother."
Ange raises an eyebrow incredulously. "Is that all?"
"Well… no. He said he'd tell him about that time I stole his rubber duck."
"You stole your brother's rubber duck?"
"Well… no. I kind of wanted to see if Edward liked it, so I gave it to him." I explain, feeling kind of stupid.
"Who's Edward?" Alicia asks. Jeez. She is so not up to speed.
"The giant squid," I tell her. "But the problem was… Edward liked it too much."
Alicia goes pale. "What do you mean, 'too much'?"
"He kind of… ate him."
"Your friend Edward, who just so happens to be a giant squid, ate your brother's favourite childhood rubber duck?" Angelina says sceptically.
I nod enthusiastically. "I knew someone would understand!" I give her a big hug, glad that someone finally understands my dilemma.
"Get off me!" Ange shrieks, backing away. She takes a moment to think, then turns back to me. "Okay, I've got it. How about you go and ask Edward for the rubber duck back, and then you can send it to whichever brother owns it?"
Wow. I honestly haven't thought about that before. "Okay," I agree, and go to leave the common room. Guess what Lee's getting for a birthday present?
Just before I leave, I think I hear Ange say to Alicia, "Too bad she doesn't know Lee has it for bribing purposes."
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The ending was somewhat... random. I know that, and it wasn't in the original chapter, either. I thought about deleting or changing it, but then decided that rubber ducks are cool and so should get a mention. Well, that and the fact that I couldn't be bothered.