Author's Note: One poor reviewer has pointed out that she didn't understand
some of the slang I use, so hence this brief crash course in
British/American slang. It hopefully covers all I have used, some I may
use. Review and tell me if I've missed some and being neither British nor
American, if you are and I have used some incorrectly, or you know of some
fun ones I haven't, please also let me know.
RACHEL'S SLANG CRASH COURSE
US = United States, Br = British
Bird (Br) = term for a girl. Since males are the ones that tend to say it, usually (but not always) in reference to an attractive girl or a mate's friend, ie: "That's one fit bird" or "He's got himself a new bird."
Bloke (Br) = a guy, and I'm sure everyone knows what guy means
Crush (US) = to be infatuated with someone. Can be used in several forms, "Are you crushing on him?"; "Do you have a crush one him?"; "He's my crush."
Do (US) = to sleep with, "do" someone
Dodgy (Br) = describes someone (usually male) who is creepy, off-putting (Marcus Flint!), someone that you want to "dodge" around. Can also describe an action or thing
Fancy (Br) = to like someone
Fit (Br) = attractive, "hot" (US)
Hot (??) = this one is confusing. To say a guy is "hot" is definitely a US term, but to have the "hots" for someone may be British. Could be something that has been borrowed and appropriated from the US
Jerk (US) = an annoying guy. Not necessary a sexual reference but is derived from a term that is, which will I need an R rating in order to mention here (so I wont)
Prat (Br) = same as jerk
Screw (US) = to sleep with
Shag (Br) = ditto
Sketchy (US) = see "dogdy"
Sleazy (US) = a dubious male, someone with a bad reputation ("sleaze" for noun)
Tosser (Br) = annoying person, usually male (now isn't that strange?)
Totty (Br) = a hot person "that's some way fit totty." I'm not sure but it may be in a derogatory manner, i.e.: "bimbo"
Not being familiar with the US system, a conversation between Roger and Nat may be only a borderline PG-13 rating. Just a caution in case you're easily offended.
Now where were we?
# # # # # # # # #
Entry Six: Raking
Natalia wears boots to detention and gets a real dressing down..
8:53 AM, September 14th
Have just found out that detention task with Oliver will be sweeping up leaves around the ground. Was looking forward to it until was told that we will not be able to use our wands, which means will actually have to work. Damn.
On plus side, at Hecate's to "rake" someone meant to hit on him. Hopefully slang has crossed over the Atlantic to Hogwarts.
9:46 AM
Determined to make the best of bad situation. Have decided to wear new fitted v-neck camel sweater which leaves little to the imagination since will be bending down a lot, ha ha, and hipster jeans that will need a special stretching spell to struggle into. Have also successfully convinced self that black wedge boots are not most impractical thing in the world to wear for groundswork. Will hopefully mean a lot of falling over and a lot of Oliver catching me. He he.
Forgot that Hagrid will be chaperoning us. Shite.
10:32 AM
Arrived outside of main entrance nice and early since may not be appropriate to arrive fashionably late to detention. After all, may not have such good company next time. Oliver and Hagrid not here yet, but Adrian Pucey is, wearing cords and a salt n pepper turtleneck with the neck scrunched up in a way to emphasise sideburns and cheekbones nicely. Never knew a gay guy who could look so ruggedly hot.
"What did you do?" I asked, sidling up next to him and rubbing my hands in the cold.
"You mean "who" did I do," he said, making a face. "This nice Hufflepuff boy the other night. How was I meant to know that he was only fifteen? He was big for his age."
"For the sake of keeping my breakfast in my stomach, I will not ask you to clarify the last part of that statement," I replied. Adrian sniggered. "Are we the only ones that will come here today? I thought I was meant to be sharing detention with Oliver."
"Don't tell me you have the hots for Wood too?" Adrian scowled. "I would have credited you with more originality, not to mention taste, than that, Natalia."
Too late I remembered why Oliver had been in detention in the first place. "I don't like him," I said. "I'm just interested in screwing him. More to piss off Katie Bell than anything else."
"Fair enough," Adrian shrugged. "If you ask me Davies is a better prospect. Don't know why you too aren't at it already, to be honest."
"We're just friends," I told him.
"Girl, things that look like that aren't meant to be used as friends. Find a nice Hufflepuff if you need one that badly. I could give you the name of mine if you want."
"No thank you," I said quickly. "So, how did such a despicable and incorrigible sleaze such as yourself get a Hufflepuff to do the dirty with you?"
Adrian laughed. To a Slytherin things like that are considered to be complements. Unless you were the one they were just hitting on, of course. "Oh, we Slytherins can be very nice when we think we can get something out of it. Too bad effing Bimms had to ghost through the wall while I was in the middle of getting something out of it. Although from what I hear of him, he may have quite enjoyed the show actually."
"Roger caught him and Nearly Headless Nick in a cupboard on Tuesday," I added. "Except they'd forgotten to go the whole way through the door, so they were sticking out for everyone to see."
Adrian doubled over in laughter. "The Gryffindor house ghost is gay? Effing Merlin, that is just a killer."
"Yeah, I'm beginning to think I'm the only one left in this place who's straight. So who else is joining us?"
"Wood and your house prefect, Penelope Clearwater," Adrian replied. A piercing shriek cut through the stillness of the cold mid-morning air. "That sounds like her now."
Clearwater dashed over to us, her pinched face puffed up by what looked like the aftermath of the world's worst crying fit. "Oh dear Merlin, I can't believe I received a detention in this place," she wailed. "I must bear the ignominy of being the only prefect in this school to have been landed such a horrible blow since Melga Middlebrow in 1934. Oh, whatever will become of me? My poor university transcript-"
"Stop your whining, Clearwater," Adrian said unceremoniously. 'I'm sick of your "I'll do whatever you need me to do, so long as it goes on my college transcript" goody-two shoes attitude. Does shagging Weasley go on that too, because it's about the only thing you seem to bother to do that doesn't."
"But, but," Clearwater stammered, appealing to me, "as a fellow Ravenclaw and therefore a fellow intellectual, Natalia, surely you understand?"
"Penelope, really, who gives a shit?" I asked. "Madga's Magical Muses Modelling Agency has had a contract reserved for me ever since I was twelve." Neglected to mention that Madga's had also asked me to lose weight. "I don't need education to fall back on. In fact, I've always considered schooling the route of those that have no natural intelligence and must fall back on the world of academia in order to validate their feeble brains. Which makes it all the more pathetic that I am leading you in class rankings."
Penelope turned bright red.
"If you want some misguided sympathy, go find a Hufflepuff," Adrian added. "Although I can't think of what "you" would do that would land you here. Oh," his face cleared as he looked at the castle entrance, "speak of the Gryffindor."
A scrawny boy with a prefect's badge and a shocking thatch of red hair walked over to us. Now everything made sense. Miss Butterbeer-Wouldn't-Melt- In-My-Mouth Clearwater screwing an Interchangeable Weasle-y? No wonder poor girl is so secretive. If I was doing one of those I would certainly keep quiet about it.
Have previously mentioned desire to steal Clearwater's boyfriend, but have now reassessed. Could never hate her that much.
"Arr, hir we arr now," a coarse voice rambled from behind me. Turned to see Hagrid standing with Oliver, resplendid in a black turtleneck and simple black slacks. The latter of the two, that is. Bringing up the rear was Flint, looking very far from the same league as Adrian and Oliver in his bright yellow Fubu gear. He even had a medallion with the Slytherin emblem on it. "Now, dar sooner we git started, dar sooner we git done. Ahm gonna break yer into twos."
Jeez, that sounded painful.
"Now, arr, given why yer here, Mister Weasley, Ah must separate yer from Miss Clearwater for ah while," Hagrid continued. Interchangeable Weasle-y looked hopefully over at me. Adrian sniggered. "I want yer ter go with Mister Pucey."
Interchangeable Weasle-y made a face. Penelope looked hopefully over at Oliver. Out of Hagrid's line of vision, Adrian was pretended to spank Flint in imitation of Clearwater and Interchangeable Weasley.
"And Miss Clearwater, Ah will put yer with Mister Flint."
Penelope's mouth dropped open. Flint winked at her.
"Which leaves Mister Wood and Miss Adani together," Hagrid concluded. What an intellect, really can't see why he was expelled from Hogwarts. "Now Ah want der firs' two ter do dar front of der school, Miss Clearwater an' Mister Flint to do der edge of der Forbidden Forest, and der las' two ter do der back. Git to it arrveryone, an' we kin 'ave some nice warm pumpkin soup fir lunch."
11:49 AM
Oliver and I had been working solidly for over an hour. Wind wreaking havoc with hair. Earlier made enticing pile of leaves and commented on how comfortable it looked but Oliver just gave me blank stare. Damn Gryffindor honour.
Raking frantically as worried that any more time in this wind will make me look like Hermione when from about three feet away Oliver spoke up. "Eh, Natalia?"
Since last time had seen him, he was over the other side of the clearing, jumped and dropped rake. Noble Gryffindor would then have to bend down and pick rake up for me. Almost dropped it again when hands brushed against mine. Tempted to drop it again upon recalling what Oliver's arse looked like when he bent down over a pile of leaves earlier in the morning. "Yeah?"
"What house are you in? I forgot to look at your badge when you were wearing your uniform in detention on Friday."
"Ravenclaw," I replied, wondering why Oliver was finally asking me this now. Could it be Gryffindor equivalent of "Care to see my etchings?" And hadn't he asked me the same question that morning in the shower?
Jeez, who am I kidding? I don't remember "anything" he said in the shower that morning. My attention was elsewhere. He was naked, for crying out loud!
"How do you like it there?" he asked.
"It's okay," I shrugged, pushing some leaves into a large sack. "Bit dull at times. Most of the time, really."
"And what house do you want to be in?"
Looked up from the sack to see Oliver standing with arms resting on rake handle and watching me levelly. Pulse turned from a marathon pace to a sprint. "Um, well, that's pretty obvious, don't you think? Slytherin."
"Slytherin?" he repeated, looking surprised. "Why?"
"Because Slytherin just seems to have more happening in it," I replied casually. "The others are too nice and boring for me."
As soon as words out of my mouth, realised I had zero chance of making use of pile of leaves this afternoon. Oliver took chin off his arms and straightened up to give me long and not particularly friendly look. "So to you, "nice" equates "boring"?" he asked.
"Well, yeah," I said in no-duh tone.
Oliver dropped rake and abruptly turned back on me. Could see that he was trying very hard to keep temper. "If you really believe that, then I feel very sorry for you," he said eventually.
"Yeah? Well try feeling sorry for yourself, you sexless Gryffindor," I spat back.
Oliver marched out of the clearing, kicking his rake as he went. Guess his rake is one that hasn't been seeing as much action as Pucey's lately, for remark to hit home like that.
Great, now have to sweep entire clearing by myself. And won't get laid.
Interchangeable Weasle-y suddenly looks more appealing.
# # # # # # # # #
4:09 PM
Hurried back through halls to change into Quidditch uniform and attend first practice of the season before dinner starts. Bumped in Malfoy, who laughed at my hair until I decked him. In much better mood after that. Decking Malfoys really very good for improving temper, far more effective than a mere cup of coffee.
Good mood lasted until first sight of uniform. What warped and sadistic mind came up with these? About as flattering as an ice hockey player's kit.
4:21 PM
Wobbled (yes, "wobbled," these uniforms are that bad) over to Quidditch pitch in time for the last dregs of Roger's team talk. Across the field Hufflepuffs were doing a cool-down routine. Of a kind. Now know that there is at least one team we will beat this season.
Sat down in between Cho Chang and Alessandro Bombardino, a tough and sexy- looking sixth year. Too bad he plays Quidditch since "never screw the crew" rule is one of the few that I follow adamantly. "Nice of you to make an appearance, Adani," Roger said coolly.
Started to rap out a rejoinder but thought better of it. He is captain after all, with power obviously going to his head. Best to humour him.
"Last season we went into our final game against Gryffindor having a huge win against Hufflepuff and a narrow loss to Slytherin," Roger continued. "We ended up defeating the favourites Gryffindor and winning the Quidditch Cup on goal difference. However, that was only because their Seeker, Harry Potter, was in the hospital wing and they were a player short, and missing their best one at that." His voice dropped an octave. "Last year even Hufflepuffs were saying that we weren't the best team in the school, that we only won because we got lucky. This year, we want to put our worth beyond doubt."
Wow, have never seen this side of Roger before. Since had last seen him staggering in at four AM on the eve of Snape's Potions Practical from Hell that even I had stayed in and crammed for, had assumed that best guy pal was incapable of anything other than frivolity. Glanced at Alessandro to see what his reaction was to this serious and rather scary Roger, but not for too long. Kind of afraid of what will happen if he catches me not paying attention, to be honest.
"Now that those of you who are new to Hogwarts and came to practice on time," cue another scathing look in my direction, "know where we stand in terms of the competition this year, what position would everyone like to play? Chasers?"
Malcolm Brocklehurst, a slender seventh year, raised his hand. Roger also raised his. "Obviously we need more than two Chasers. Someone's going to have to give. Keeper?" Alessandro Bombardino raised his hand. "Now Bombardino, I know you were the Keeper last year and you did a great job for us, but with both Mortimer and Quellings graduating last summer, I'd like you to play as a Beater for us. You have a good aim and you're strong, hell, you even have the surname to play as a Beater! I think you'll do a smashing job." Several younger players laughed at his pun. I rolled my eyes, but only subtly, as new fanatical Roger quite frightening.
Cho still hadn't raised her hand.
"Obviously, same thing goes for the Beaters as with the Chasers. We need one more," Roger continued. "Now we're a Keeper short. Vanessa Johnson? Excellent." He raised his head from his notebook (this is the biggest clue to how seriously he is taking all this, since I have "never" seen him take notes, even in class) and surveyed the rest of us. "Hmm, this should be interesting. Seeker?"
I raised my hand. So did Cho. A couple of second years also made their interest clear.
"Ah, the Harry Potter phenomenon," Roger said scornfully. "Well, as all four of you cannot play as the Seeker at once and we have an open Chaser and Beater spot, I think I will have to break some hearts."
"With all due respect, captain, I've been playing Quidditch before Harry Potter even knew what it was," I cut in. "If you're looking for someone to bring experience to that position, then you've got yourself a Seeker."
"I know all about the positions you have experience in, Adani," Roger said icily. Cho gasped and Alessandro tactfully averted his eyes. Felt tears prick at the backs of my eyelids. "And I will be the one who makes the decision when it comes to team selection. Bombardino, could you lead the team through a warm-up lap and then the Avery Dead Beater drill? Adani, a word."
Rest of the team mounted their brooms and flew away, Cho giving me a shy, sympathetic smile before racing after Alessandro. Braced myself for another verbal assault and was very surprised when Roger put an arm around my shoulder. "Raking didn't go well today, did it?" he asked gently.
"In both senses of the word," I replied.
"That's too bad," he said, rubbing my shoulder as he spoke. I rested some of my weight on him but not too much, as Roger kind of skinny. "And I'm sorry about what I said just now, Nat. I had a rough night but that's no excuse to take it out on you."
"Yeah, well it's what I should expect, isn't it?" I said, some bitterness creeping into my voice. "Double standards are alive and well and living in Hogwarts. A guy is a stud, a girl is a slut, that kind of thing. I mean, if it's okay for guys to have sex but not for girls, then who do the guys have sex with? Each other, if it's Hogwarts-"
Roger gently pushed me off his shoulder to face him. All earlier hardness had gone out of his eyes. "Nat, I'm really sorry. I had no idea you cared so much what other people thought of you."
"Well, now you know," I said, humiliated as my voice quavered slightly.
"Nat, what you just said, I think it's all bull, and not just because I happen to like sleeping with girls. I'm sorry if you pay any attention to that kind of talk, and I'm sorry if I hurt you. Are we okay again?"
I still felt angry with him until I saw the hurt and shame in his eyes. "Yeah, we're okay," I said eventually.
Roger smiled a closed lip, self conscious smile, then reached over and gave me a hug. I hesitated for a minute, then hugged him back. "Right then," he said. "I just wanted to have a quick word regarding your role in the team. Now I know you're an excellent Seeker, but there's very little to choose from between you and Cho. We don't have to spend much time worrying about Ernie MacMillan from Hufflepuff, but Potter and Malfoy could give us some real competition."
"So you're choosing raw talent over experience and know-how why?" I prompted.
"Both Potter and Malfoy are small and quick," Roger continued. "Like Cho. She'll have an easier time keeping up with them. Sure, you'd be able to muscle them out of the way easily enough, but that won't do any good if they're too fast for you. You're one of the old-school defensive Seekers, bigger blokes whose job was to keep the opposition's Seeker off the Snitch for as long as possible and let their team build up a huge goal difference. But with broom technology improving and player getting smaller and faster, they're sort of a dying breed. Now, you're tall and strong-"
"You mean fat," I said grumpily.
"No, Natalia, I meant athletically built," Roger said with strained patience. "And if you're fat, it's only in the right places. See, my point, and I do have one, is that both you and Cho are excellent Seekers, but with Cho's build she can only really play in one position. You have the potential to be versatile." I watched him expectantly. "I want you to play as the second Beater."
"A Beater?" I burst out. "You mean one of those great, blundering morons? Why the hell would you have me play as a Beater?"
"I think you just answered your own question right there," Roger said triumphantly at my temper. I blushed. "You have heaps of experience and you can read the game, which is essential for a Beater. And you're aggressive to, as you just so accurately displayed. And you and Bombardino can give each other directions in Italian and the other teams won't have a clue what you're about to do. Plus, you can not only slam hard objects at Malfoy and Flint to your heart's content, you'll actually be encouraged to do so."
Felt reluctant smile creep across my lips. "You know me too well."
"That's the spirit," he said, slapping me companionably upon the shoulder. "Just think on it for a while for me, alright? Besides, you've been getting a bit antsy lately, Adani. I think you could do with a challenge."
"I could do with something else," I muttered as I mounted my broom, "and it has nothing to do with Quidditch." And what made him think that my being antsy had anything to do with not being challenged? Does he know me at all?
Come to think of it, hitting Bludgers around for an hour or so would be a great way of relieving my frustration (yes, that kind of frustration).
Maybe Roger has point after all.
# # # # # # # # #
Okay, I know the ending is rather weak, but everyone's allowed a few off- days (smiles).
RACHEL'S SLANG CRASH COURSE
US = United States, Br = British
Bird (Br) = term for a girl. Since males are the ones that tend to say it, usually (but not always) in reference to an attractive girl or a mate's friend, ie: "That's one fit bird" or "He's got himself a new bird."
Bloke (Br) = a guy, and I'm sure everyone knows what guy means
Crush (US) = to be infatuated with someone. Can be used in several forms, "Are you crushing on him?"; "Do you have a crush one him?"; "He's my crush."
Do (US) = to sleep with, "do" someone
Dodgy (Br) = describes someone (usually male) who is creepy, off-putting (Marcus Flint!), someone that you want to "dodge" around. Can also describe an action or thing
Fancy (Br) = to like someone
Fit (Br) = attractive, "hot" (US)
Hot (??) = this one is confusing. To say a guy is "hot" is definitely a US term, but to have the "hots" for someone may be British. Could be something that has been borrowed and appropriated from the US
Jerk (US) = an annoying guy. Not necessary a sexual reference but is derived from a term that is, which will I need an R rating in order to mention here (so I wont)
Prat (Br) = same as jerk
Screw (US) = to sleep with
Shag (Br) = ditto
Sketchy (US) = see "dogdy"
Sleazy (US) = a dubious male, someone with a bad reputation ("sleaze" for noun)
Tosser (Br) = annoying person, usually male (now isn't that strange?)
Totty (Br) = a hot person "that's some way fit totty." I'm not sure but it may be in a derogatory manner, i.e.: "bimbo"
Not being familiar with the US system, a conversation between Roger and Nat may be only a borderline PG-13 rating. Just a caution in case you're easily offended.
Now where were we?
# # # # # # # # #
Entry Six: Raking
Natalia wears boots to detention and gets a real dressing down..
8:53 AM, September 14th
Have just found out that detention task with Oliver will be sweeping up leaves around the ground. Was looking forward to it until was told that we will not be able to use our wands, which means will actually have to work. Damn.
On plus side, at Hecate's to "rake" someone meant to hit on him. Hopefully slang has crossed over the Atlantic to Hogwarts.
9:46 AM
Determined to make the best of bad situation. Have decided to wear new fitted v-neck camel sweater which leaves little to the imagination since will be bending down a lot, ha ha, and hipster jeans that will need a special stretching spell to struggle into. Have also successfully convinced self that black wedge boots are not most impractical thing in the world to wear for groundswork. Will hopefully mean a lot of falling over and a lot of Oliver catching me. He he.
Forgot that Hagrid will be chaperoning us. Shite.
10:32 AM
Arrived outside of main entrance nice and early since may not be appropriate to arrive fashionably late to detention. After all, may not have such good company next time. Oliver and Hagrid not here yet, but Adrian Pucey is, wearing cords and a salt n pepper turtleneck with the neck scrunched up in a way to emphasise sideburns and cheekbones nicely. Never knew a gay guy who could look so ruggedly hot.
"What did you do?" I asked, sidling up next to him and rubbing my hands in the cold.
"You mean "who" did I do," he said, making a face. "This nice Hufflepuff boy the other night. How was I meant to know that he was only fifteen? He was big for his age."
"For the sake of keeping my breakfast in my stomach, I will not ask you to clarify the last part of that statement," I replied. Adrian sniggered. "Are we the only ones that will come here today? I thought I was meant to be sharing detention with Oliver."
"Don't tell me you have the hots for Wood too?" Adrian scowled. "I would have credited you with more originality, not to mention taste, than that, Natalia."
Too late I remembered why Oliver had been in detention in the first place. "I don't like him," I said. "I'm just interested in screwing him. More to piss off Katie Bell than anything else."
"Fair enough," Adrian shrugged. "If you ask me Davies is a better prospect. Don't know why you too aren't at it already, to be honest."
"We're just friends," I told him.
"Girl, things that look like that aren't meant to be used as friends. Find a nice Hufflepuff if you need one that badly. I could give you the name of mine if you want."
"No thank you," I said quickly. "So, how did such a despicable and incorrigible sleaze such as yourself get a Hufflepuff to do the dirty with you?"
Adrian laughed. To a Slytherin things like that are considered to be complements. Unless you were the one they were just hitting on, of course. "Oh, we Slytherins can be very nice when we think we can get something out of it. Too bad effing Bimms had to ghost through the wall while I was in the middle of getting something out of it. Although from what I hear of him, he may have quite enjoyed the show actually."
"Roger caught him and Nearly Headless Nick in a cupboard on Tuesday," I added. "Except they'd forgotten to go the whole way through the door, so they were sticking out for everyone to see."
Adrian doubled over in laughter. "The Gryffindor house ghost is gay? Effing Merlin, that is just a killer."
"Yeah, I'm beginning to think I'm the only one left in this place who's straight. So who else is joining us?"
"Wood and your house prefect, Penelope Clearwater," Adrian replied. A piercing shriek cut through the stillness of the cold mid-morning air. "That sounds like her now."
Clearwater dashed over to us, her pinched face puffed up by what looked like the aftermath of the world's worst crying fit. "Oh dear Merlin, I can't believe I received a detention in this place," she wailed. "I must bear the ignominy of being the only prefect in this school to have been landed such a horrible blow since Melga Middlebrow in 1934. Oh, whatever will become of me? My poor university transcript-"
"Stop your whining, Clearwater," Adrian said unceremoniously. 'I'm sick of your "I'll do whatever you need me to do, so long as it goes on my college transcript" goody-two shoes attitude. Does shagging Weasley go on that too, because it's about the only thing you seem to bother to do that doesn't."
"But, but," Clearwater stammered, appealing to me, "as a fellow Ravenclaw and therefore a fellow intellectual, Natalia, surely you understand?"
"Penelope, really, who gives a shit?" I asked. "Madga's Magical Muses Modelling Agency has had a contract reserved for me ever since I was twelve." Neglected to mention that Madga's had also asked me to lose weight. "I don't need education to fall back on. In fact, I've always considered schooling the route of those that have no natural intelligence and must fall back on the world of academia in order to validate their feeble brains. Which makes it all the more pathetic that I am leading you in class rankings."
Penelope turned bright red.
"If you want some misguided sympathy, go find a Hufflepuff," Adrian added. "Although I can't think of what "you" would do that would land you here. Oh," his face cleared as he looked at the castle entrance, "speak of the Gryffindor."
A scrawny boy with a prefect's badge and a shocking thatch of red hair walked over to us. Now everything made sense. Miss Butterbeer-Wouldn't-Melt- In-My-Mouth Clearwater screwing an Interchangeable Weasle-y? No wonder poor girl is so secretive. If I was doing one of those I would certainly keep quiet about it.
Have previously mentioned desire to steal Clearwater's boyfriend, but have now reassessed. Could never hate her that much.
"Arr, hir we arr now," a coarse voice rambled from behind me. Turned to see Hagrid standing with Oliver, resplendid in a black turtleneck and simple black slacks. The latter of the two, that is. Bringing up the rear was Flint, looking very far from the same league as Adrian and Oliver in his bright yellow Fubu gear. He even had a medallion with the Slytherin emblem on it. "Now, dar sooner we git started, dar sooner we git done. Ahm gonna break yer into twos."
Jeez, that sounded painful.
"Now, arr, given why yer here, Mister Weasley, Ah must separate yer from Miss Clearwater for ah while," Hagrid continued. Interchangeable Weasle-y looked hopefully over at me. Adrian sniggered. "I want yer ter go with Mister Pucey."
Interchangeable Weasle-y made a face. Penelope looked hopefully over at Oliver. Out of Hagrid's line of vision, Adrian was pretended to spank Flint in imitation of Clearwater and Interchangeable Weasley.
"And Miss Clearwater, Ah will put yer with Mister Flint."
Penelope's mouth dropped open. Flint winked at her.
"Which leaves Mister Wood and Miss Adani together," Hagrid concluded. What an intellect, really can't see why he was expelled from Hogwarts. "Now Ah want der firs' two ter do dar front of der school, Miss Clearwater an' Mister Flint to do der edge of der Forbidden Forest, and der las' two ter do der back. Git to it arrveryone, an' we kin 'ave some nice warm pumpkin soup fir lunch."
11:49 AM
Oliver and I had been working solidly for over an hour. Wind wreaking havoc with hair. Earlier made enticing pile of leaves and commented on how comfortable it looked but Oliver just gave me blank stare. Damn Gryffindor honour.
Raking frantically as worried that any more time in this wind will make me look like Hermione when from about three feet away Oliver spoke up. "Eh, Natalia?"
Since last time had seen him, he was over the other side of the clearing, jumped and dropped rake. Noble Gryffindor would then have to bend down and pick rake up for me. Almost dropped it again when hands brushed against mine. Tempted to drop it again upon recalling what Oliver's arse looked like when he bent down over a pile of leaves earlier in the morning. "Yeah?"
"What house are you in? I forgot to look at your badge when you were wearing your uniform in detention on Friday."
"Ravenclaw," I replied, wondering why Oliver was finally asking me this now. Could it be Gryffindor equivalent of "Care to see my etchings?" And hadn't he asked me the same question that morning in the shower?
Jeez, who am I kidding? I don't remember "anything" he said in the shower that morning. My attention was elsewhere. He was naked, for crying out loud!
"How do you like it there?" he asked.
"It's okay," I shrugged, pushing some leaves into a large sack. "Bit dull at times. Most of the time, really."
"And what house do you want to be in?"
Looked up from the sack to see Oliver standing with arms resting on rake handle and watching me levelly. Pulse turned from a marathon pace to a sprint. "Um, well, that's pretty obvious, don't you think? Slytherin."
"Slytherin?" he repeated, looking surprised. "Why?"
"Because Slytherin just seems to have more happening in it," I replied casually. "The others are too nice and boring for me."
As soon as words out of my mouth, realised I had zero chance of making use of pile of leaves this afternoon. Oliver took chin off his arms and straightened up to give me long and not particularly friendly look. "So to you, "nice" equates "boring"?" he asked.
"Well, yeah," I said in no-duh tone.
Oliver dropped rake and abruptly turned back on me. Could see that he was trying very hard to keep temper. "If you really believe that, then I feel very sorry for you," he said eventually.
"Yeah? Well try feeling sorry for yourself, you sexless Gryffindor," I spat back.
Oliver marched out of the clearing, kicking his rake as he went. Guess his rake is one that hasn't been seeing as much action as Pucey's lately, for remark to hit home like that.
Great, now have to sweep entire clearing by myself. And won't get laid.
Interchangeable Weasle-y suddenly looks more appealing.
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4:09 PM
Hurried back through halls to change into Quidditch uniform and attend first practice of the season before dinner starts. Bumped in Malfoy, who laughed at my hair until I decked him. In much better mood after that. Decking Malfoys really very good for improving temper, far more effective than a mere cup of coffee.
Good mood lasted until first sight of uniform. What warped and sadistic mind came up with these? About as flattering as an ice hockey player's kit.
4:21 PM
Wobbled (yes, "wobbled," these uniforms are that bad) over to Quidditch pitch in time for the last dregs of Roger's team talk. Across the field Hufflepuffs were doing a cool-down routine. Of a kind. Now know that there is at least one team we will beat this season.
Sat down in between Cho Chang and Alessandro Bombardino, a tough and sexy- looking sixth year. Too bad he plays Quidditch since "never screw the crew" rule is one of the few that I follow adamantly. "Nice of you to make an appearance, Adani," Roger said coolly.
Started to rap out a rejoinder but thought better of it. He is captain after all, with power obviously going to his head. Best to humour him.
"Last season we went into our final game against Gryffindor having a huge win against Hufflepuff and a narrow loss to Slytherin," Roger continued. "We ended up defeating the favourites Gryffindor and winning the Quidditch Cup on goal difference. However, that was only because their Seeker, Harry Potter, was in the hospital wing and they were a player short, and missing their best one at that." His voice dropped an octave. "Last year even Hufflepuffs were saying that we weren't the best team in the school, that we only won because we got lucky. This year, we want to put our worth beyond doubt."
Wow, have never seen this side of Roger before. Since had last seen him staggering in at four AM on the eve of Snape's Potions Practical from Hell that even I had stayed in and crammed for, had assumed that best guy pal was incapable of anything other than frivolity. Glanced at Alessandro to see what his reaction was to this serious and rather scary Roger, but not for too long. Kind of afraid of what will happen if he catches me not paying attention, to be honest.
"Now that those of you who are new to Hogwarts and came to practice on time," cue another scathing look in my direction, "know where we stand in terms of the competition this year, what position would everyone like to play? Chasers?"
Malcolm Brocklehurst, a slender seventh year, raised his hand. Roger also raised his. "Obviously we need more than two Chasers. Someone's going to have to give. Keeper?" Alessandro Bombardino raised his hand. "Now Bombardino, I know you were the Keeper last year and you did a great job for us, but with both Mortimer and Quellings graduating last summer, I'd like you to play as a Beater for us. You have a good aim and you're strong, hell, you even have the surname to play as a Beater! I think you'll do a smashing job." Several younger players laughed at his pun. I rolled my eyes, but only subtly, as new fanatical Roger quite frightening.
Cho still hadn't raised her hand.
"Obviously, same thing goes for the Beaters as with the Chasers. We need one more," Roger continued. "Now we're a Keeper short. Vanessa Johnson? Excellent." He raised his head from his notebook (this is the biggest clue to how seriously he is taking all this, since I have "never" seen him take notes, even in class) and surveyed the rest of us. "Hmm, this should be interesting. Seeker?"
I raised my hand. So did Cho. A couple of second years also made their interest clear.
"Ah, the Harry Potter phenomenon," Roger said scornfully. "Well, as all four of you cannot play as the Seeker at once and we have an open Chaser and Beater spot, I think I will have to break some hearts."
"With all due respect, captain, I've been playing Quidditch before Harry Potter even knew what it was," I cut in. "If you're looking for someone to bring experience to that position, then you've got yourself a Seeker."
"I know all about the positions you have experience in, Adani," Roger said icily. Cho gasped and Alessandro tactfully averted his eyes. Felt tears prick at the backs of my eyelids. "And I will be the one who makes the decision when it comes to team selection. Bombardino, could you lead the team through a warm-up lap and then the Avery Dead Beater drill? Adani, a word."
Rest of the team mounted their brooms and flew away, Cho giving me a shy, sympathetic smile before racing after Alessandro. Braced myself for another verbal assault and was very surprised when Roger put an arm around my shoulder. "Raking didn't go well today, did it?" he asked gently.
"In both senses of the word," I replied.
"That's too bad," he said, rubbing my shoulder as he spoke. I rested some of my weight on him but not too much, as Roger kind of skinny. "And I'm sorry about what I said just now, Nat. I had a rough night but that's no excuse to take it out on you."
"Yeah, well it's what I should expect, isn't it?" I said, some bitterness creeping into my voice. "Double standards are alive and well and living in Hogwarts. A guy is a stud, a girl is a slut, that kind of thing. I mean, if it's okay for guys to have sex but not for girls, then who do the guys have sex with? Each other, if it's Hogwarts-"
Roger gently pushed me off his shoulder to face him. All earlier hardness had gone out of his eyes. "Nat, I'm really sorry. I had no idea you cared so much what other people thought of you."
"Well, now you know," I said, humiliated as my voice quavered slightly.
"Nat, what you just said, I think it's all bull, and not just because I happen to like sleeping with girls. I'm sorry if you pay any attention to that kind of talk, and I'm sorry if I hurt you. Are we okay again?"
I still felt angry with him until I saw the hurt and shame in his eyes. "Yeah, we're okay," I said eventually.
Roger smiled a closed lip, self conscious smile, then reached over and gave me a hug. I hesitated for a minute, then hugged him back. "Right then," he said. "I just wanted to have a quick word regarding your role in the team. Now I know you're an excellent Seeker, but there's very little to choose from between you and Cho. We don't have to spend much time worrying about Ernie MacMillan from Hufflepuff, but Potter and Malfoy could give us some real competition."
"So you're choosing raw talent over experience and know-how why?" I prompted.
"Both Potter and Malfoy are small and quick," Roger continued. "Like Cho. She'll have an easier time keeping up with them. Sure, you'd be able to muscle them out of the way easily enough, but that won't do any good if they're too fast for you. You're one of the old-school defensive Seekers, bigger blokes whose job was to keep the opposition's Seeker off the Snitch for as long as possible and let their team build up a huge goal difference. But with broom technology improving and player getting smaller and faster, they're sort of a dying breed. Now, you're tall and strong-"
"You mean fat," I said grumpily.
"No, Natalia, I meant athletically built," Roger said with strained patience. "And if you're fat, it's only in the right places. See, my point, and I do have one, is that both you and Cho are excellent Seekers, but with Cho's build she can only really play in one position. You have the potential to be versatile." I watched him expectantly. "I want you to play as the second Beater."
"A Beater?" I burst out. "You mean one of those great, blundering morons? Why the hell would you have me play as a Beater?"
"I think you just answered your own question right there," Roger said triumphantly at my temper. I blushed. "You have heaps of experience and you can read the game, which is essential for a Beater. And you're aggressive to, as you just so accurately displayed. And you and Bombardino can give each other directions in Italian and the other teams won't have a clue what you're about to do. Plus, you can not only slam hard objects at Malfoy and Flint to your heart's content, you'll actually be encouraged to do so."
Felt reluctant smile creep across my lips. "You know me too well."
"That's the spirit," he said, slapping me companionably upon the shoulder. "Just think on it for a while for me, alright? Besides, you've been getting a bit antsy lately, Adani. I think you could do with a challenge."
"I could do with something else," I muttered as I mounted my broom, "and it has nothing to do with Quidditch." And what made him think that my being antsy had anything to do with not being challenged? Does he know me at all?
Come to think of it, hitting Bludgers around for an hour or so would be a great way of relieving my frustration (yes, that kind of frustration).
Maybe Roger has point after all.
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Okay, I know the ending is rather weak, but everyone's allowed a few off- days (smiles).