September 2, 1992-Hogwarts-6th year
I swear, we at Hogwarts have the shtupidest Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher in the entire world! No, make that the entire universe! A troll would have been better than Gilderoy Lockhart! Today, when I had his class, I had half-a-mind to just hex him! He's so self-obsessed! And an airhead! And you know how much I hate people like that.I might as well tell you what happened today in his class. Well, I have this class with Oliver, so I figured that it wouldn't be so bad. I was so wrong. Lockhart came in promptly when the class was to start and began to babble mindlessly. Mostly about himself, and how many awards he's won. Who cares? Not me. But when he mentioned the word quiz, I immediately began to pay attention.
"I figured that since all of you have read my books thoroughly-" (Someone snorted, but Lockhart went on anyway)-"that we'd start the class off today with a quiz!" Lockhart said to the class, smiling his stupid, smile. Just for sarcastic purposes, I smiled sarcastically back at him. Then Lockhart passed out the papers. I looked down at the "quiz". It looked a bit like this: What is Gilderoy Lockhart's Favourite Colour? Name one of Gilderoy Lockhart's secret ambitions. My hand shot up before he could say anything.
"Yes.Erm-whatever your name is?" He asked, looking at me.
"Yes, Professor Lockhart, as I am reading this little 'quiz' you're making us take, I do have some questions." I stated, trying to sound smart and intelligent, as to make Lockhart look as dumb as he is.
"I'd be glad to answer them!" He replied, smiling. I smiled back at him.
"Then you'd be so glad as to answer me why in the world knowing your favorite color and secret ambitions is going to help us in the Defense Against the Dark Arts field? Hmm?" I looked up at him, my eyes looking innocent. The entire class turned to look at me. Lockhart seemed a bit stumped.
"Well-I, erm." He sputtered, not knowing this answer. I could've stopped there, basking in my great victory, but I had to humiliate this man further.
"Is there a beast out there that makes you recite all of your greatest achievements or else he eats you?" This time, I laid the sarcasm on that comment pretty thick, hoping he'd catch it. The class laughed. Lockhart just stood in front of the class, sputtering like an idiot. Finally, he put words together that made a complete sentence.
"Well, young lady, I am simply checking to see how well you read my books!" He finally said, smiling again. I raised an eyebrow.
"But why." I started to make another smart-aleck comment, but stopped when Ollie nudged me really hard with his elbow. His way of saying, "Shut up!" I took a deep breath, and clenched my teeth.
"Oh, I see now Professor. Thank you for explaining." I said smiling falsely. Underneath the desk, I clenched my fists.
"Why you're welcome! That is what I'm here for!" Lockhart replied cheerfully, obviously knowing that he'd won. "Now," He started, "you may begin your quiz!" Once he turned his back, I scowled at him. What an idiot, I thought as I easily breezed through the test. I knew all of the answers (I never forget anything that I read), but Oliver didn't. I inconspicuously scooted my paper over towards him so he could cheat. I didn't care if he copied my answers this time. This quiz didn't involve any "valuable" information anyway. When our thirty-minutes were up, we all passed in our papers. Just as I suspected, Lockhart had to go over the quiz in class. I rolled my eyes as he went through all of the questions and answers. Who cared if his favorite color was lilac? What we really wanted was to learn how to defend ourselves against the Dark Arts! After what seemed like an eternity, Lockhart put down the stack of papers.
"Now, let's get on to business!" He exclaimed, pulling a cage from under his desk. It had a cover over it, so we couldn't see what was inside. "Now, I must ask you all not to scream or panic when you see what is in this cage. You might aggravate them." The way he talked about whatever was in that cage, you'd think he had something neat in there! Like a baby dragon, or something. But everyone was disappointed as it turned out to be.
"Freshly caught Cornish Pixies!" Once he said this, I immediately burst out laughing. This man thought that Pixies were dangerous and scary? Perhaps to him, maybe.I soon realized that I was the only one laughing. I stopped. Lockhart just stared at me, unblinking for a second, and then went on to the lesson. "Let's see how well you make of them!" He stated cheerfully, opening the cage. How stupid can this man be? Releasing Pixies on a class of 6th years? Of course we could handle them! We used a few freezing charms and stuffed them in their cage. The situation was handled in less than five minutes. Lockhart was shocked. Obviously, a group of 6th years were just proved to be more intelligent than he was. There was time left before the end of class, so he simply let us talk for the rest of the time while he prepared yet another dumb, boring speech for the next class.
"Oh my God, Oliver did you see the look on his face when we all caught those Pixies?" I giggled as I talked to Ollie when I was sure Lockhart wasn't listening. Even if he was, I wouldn't care. He really needs to hear something negative about himself. "I wish I had a picture of that!"
"Linds, you really shouldn't have been such a smart-aleck. Give the Professor a chance! Maybe he'll get.smarter?"
"Oliver, this 'Professor' tells every class that he's won the Witch Weekly's Most-Charming-Smile Award five times! Does this strike you as a good quality?"
"Erm.no?"
"Of course not! He's self-obsessed.. And stupid. You saw yourself! The man gave us a quiz over his favorite colors! Does this sound like a normal person to you?"
"Not really," Ollie said, finally giving in.
"Exactly. And that is why we must find a way to destroy him." I smirked evilly. Ollie looked at me strangely.
"You're scaring me, Lindsay. Stop."
"No, don't you see Ollie? This is our chance to exploit Gilderoy Lockhart for who he really is! Just a.a."
"A Professor?"
"No! A really unintelligent person!" I corrected him, making it sound as if the answer was inevitable.
"Alright, whatever you say Lindsay." Ollie sighed and looked away, obviously embarrassed by me. My eyes narrowed at Professor Lockhart, sitting at his desk. What weapon should I chose to destroy his confidence? Ah-ha! I knew it! I'd give him a potion.I'm good at potions. But what potion? An ugly potion? No, too easy. The really good potions were in the restricted section! I'd just have to deal with what I had. Perhaps I could mix potions! All I had to slip it into his drink at a meal when he wasn't looking.Ah, never mind. I'll just slowly kill him during class with my sarcastic remarks. That should be easy. And fun.so fun.
October 5, 1992-Hogwarts-6th year
Oh, guess what?! I'm not on the Quidditch team any more!! Isn't this year going so well for me? Note the sarcasm. I assume both Marcus and I had enough of each other at practice today, so he chucked me off of the team! And you know what? I was glad to go, too! That shtupid hoof was really getting on my nerves anyway. I suppose it started with the terrible weather. It was incredibly crummy, with it raining off and on as it did. That didn't make very well Quidditch conditions at practice today, so Flint was already parped off, on top of me being annoying. We started practice as usual, with Marcus talking to us about a few new tactics he'd managed to concoct inside of that extremely small brain of his. I was sitting as far away from him as possible, trying to avoid an unwanted confrontation. But when he began to explain a new play for the Chasers, my hand shot up immediately. I didn't do this out of respect for the slimy git, but the gesture was simply out of habit. I was raising my hand, because this new 'play' was clearly a foul. It involved one Chaser with the Quaffle going into the Scoring Area, while two other Chasers' began speeding toward the Keeper, trying to distract them. If I remember my readings correctly, there could be two fouls involved in this scenario. Stooging, and Blatching. Of course, the Blatching is inevitable, but the Stooging is a possibility. If indeed the other Chasers, while flying toward the Keeper with the intent of distraction, accidentally enter the Scoring Area while the other Chaser is still in the area, it could be a foul. And a penalty to Gryffindor would not be pleasant, seeing that lately they'd been flattening us in matches. Anyway, I was sitting there, waving my arm around frantically, trying to catch Flint's attention before he leaked any more of his stupidity on anyone on the team. Finally, he rolled his eyes, and looked at me. I could see him clench his teeth.
"Alright, what is it, Bell?" He asked, seemingly irritated.
"Finally, my hand had been up for ages-" I began, but was interrupted by Flint's impatience.
"Please Bell, spare us the sarcasm and get on with it."
"Well," I began again, hoping that he wouldn't interrupt me once more, "I have a few comments to make on that new play concerning the Chasers."
"And.I don't care." He said, stopping me once more.
"Well, have a care, Marcus, because this is important." I was trying to control my anger at this moment, seeing that Flint was being a stubborn little troll.
"This better be good," Flint answered, crossing his arms across his chest.
"That play that you just explained, well, it has a fowl in it. Two to be exact. Blatching and Stooging. Obviously, this play isn't all it's said to be, eh?" I said smugly. Flint just thought for a moment. Obviously, I'd won this battle. Or perhaps not.
"Where? I see no flaw in the play. Perhaps you'd be so kind as to explain to the team the thing I looked over, hmm?" By this point, he was actually starting to sound intelligent. It was a bit intimidating, but I was quicker.
"For God's sake, Marcus, don't you read?" He gave me a blank look. I went on. "The Chasers can't fly towards the Keeper like that! It can be perceived as Blatching, which is flying with an intent to collide. And also, what if the Chasers fly too far, or don't stop quickly enough and accidentally enter the Scoring Area while the other Chaser is still in there? Well, everyone knows that that's Stooging! And we don't need to give Gryffindor a penalty, now do we?" I finished, a bit irritated. I mean, a monkey would do a better job of coaching us than he does!
"So, what your saying, Lindsay, is that you can come up with a more clever play than mine?" Flint asked, not about to give up at this point.
"No, I didn't say that, but now that you mention it, I could do your job a lot better than you could!" I answered, raising my voice a little bit. Oh no.here we go again.
"Then go ahead! Coach this practice! Let's all see you do a 'better' job than me!" He yelled, sitting down on the bench with the rest of the team, leaving the front of the room open.
"Alright then," I smiled as I stood up and walked to the position where Flint usually occupies at this time. "I know this play might be a bit difficult-" (Flint snorted.) "-But with our team, I believe we can pull it off." I smiled, seeing that I now had the attention of the team. "Remember, with this one, pinpoint timing is essential. Warrington, once you get the Quaffle, fly around a bit getting the opposing Chasers to chase you. Then, quickly do a Porskoff Ploy. Afterward, I'll be waiting underneath you, so throw the Quaffle down to me. This is where you come in, Flint. I'll do a Reverse Pass to you; you'll catch it, shimmy down the field, and attempt a goal! The other team won't know what hit them!" Someone coughed. I took a deep breath, as I had somehow managed to talk at an extremely high speed. I glanced at Flint for a second. He was obviously trying to create the play in his head, seeing if it would work. I gave him a second to finish, seeing that it would take his slow mind a minute to conclude the task. Suddenly, someone whom was scarily familiar raised his hand. I gasped. "Draco, what in the world are you doing here?" I asked, placing my hands on my hips, annoyed as heck that Draco had managed to sneak in here.
"You haven't heard? I'm Slytherin's new Seeker!" The boy replied conceitedly. "Who in the world in their right mind would let such rubbish onto the Quidditch team?" Then I remembered that Flint was in charge of who was on the team. "No, wait, forget that. What do you want?" "Where are the Beaters, the Keeper, and I supposed to be during all of this? It seems you somehow forgot to add us into your play." Draco responded, attempting to make me look shtupid. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Flint smirk, as if he'd found a flaw in my 'ingenious' plan.
"Yes Bell, where will the Seeker, Keeper, and Beaters going to be during all of that?" Flint asked quite haughtily.
"Well, captain, the Seeker, the Keeper, and Beaters will be continuing to do their job. Draco here will carry on as usual, searching for the Snitch. And Bole and Derrick here will simply keep the Bludgers away from us as they do at every game. Is that simple enough for you, or should I write it out on the board?" I answered, this time getting the last word out of that ugly freak. "Very well, then!" I exclaimed, breaking the silence, "Anyone else have anymore questions?"
"Yeah!" Called out Bole, one of the Beaters, "Why can't you be our captain?" Both of the Beaters sniggered. Flint turned around and glared at them. It was going so well! The whole team was back on my side! For the moment anyway.
"Now, why don't we all go and try this thing out?" I suggested nicely, trying so hard to ignore Flint's mean looks.
"Fine with me," Warrington, the third Chaser said, standing up with his broom. Everyone looked at the captain now, waiting for an approval to follow me out onto the pitch. He just sighed annoyingly.
"Whatever, whatever," Flint spoke quickly inevitably mad now. His little plan to humiliate me didn't work! Ha, ha! That shows him that he can't mess with a Bell! Especially one much smarter than him, like me. I just smiled, and walked with the team out of the changing room and onto the pitch. It had stopped raining for a few hours, so it was a bit dryer, but the ground was still soggy.
"Watch out for the mud, people." I warned everyone, dodging a murky puddle near the Central Circle.
"Oh, oh, watch out for the mud," I heard Flint mock me as he walked out on the pitch with us. Ignoring him once more, I mounted my Nimbus 1000 (An older model of the Nimbus 2000, 2001.) and soared into the air. The entire team had been given Nimbus 2001, courtesy of Lucious Malfoy, but I preferred my broomstick to a new one. And besides, Mum told me not to accept any gifts from the Malfoys, in case they'd jinxed it in some way. Everyone else followed me into the air as well, including Draco and Flint.
"Who has the Quaffle?" I asked, scanning everyone, searching for it with my eyes.
"I do," Warrington answered, holding it up.
"Good, now, flying around for a second, then try a Porskoff Ploy, alright?" I requested pleasantly. Warrington just smiled and did as he was told. I assume that he liked being ordered around by me, rather than Flint. When he had flown the length of the pitch, he picked up speed and flew towards the Central Circle. Swiftly, he flew straight upwards, and threw the Quaffle down to me, where I was hovering. Hurriedly, I sped down to the opposite end of the pitch with the Quaffle tucked under my arm. "Flint!" I yelled, trying to get his attention. Next, I threw the ball over my shoulder, where Flint was supposed to be waiting to catch it. Well, let's just say he had a little attitude problem and didn't feel like being a good sport. The Quaffle just fell to the ground, landing on the wet grass. Frustrated, I flew over to him, angry. "What happened?! You were supposed to be right there!" I yelled, not caring about containing my anger anymore.
"Your play is stupid. It'll never work. This is all just a waste of our training time." He sneered. By now, I was really mad, and just went all crazy.
"BLOODY HELL, MARCUS!!! WHEN WILL YOU STOP ACTING LIKE YOU'RE TWO YEARS OLD AND ACTUALLY GROW UP FOR A CHANGE?! I KNOW THAT WE DON'T LIKE EACH OTHER, BUT WHEN WE'RE OUT HERE ON THE FIELD, WE HAVE TO PUT THAT ALL BEHIND US, DAMNIT!" I screamed in Flint's face. Now he just looked at me, as if that was the first time I'd yelled at him.
"No need to raise your voice, Lindsay. I am right here." Flint spoke, once again, almost sounding like he owned an IQ point higher than his age.
"I WILL RAISE MY VOICE IF I BLOODY WELL FEEL LIKE IT! YOU CAN'T TELL ME WHAT TO DO! I'M A PREFECT!!!!" I shrieked again, resisting the urge to punch the parp out of him.
"If you're going to be so damn mean, then why don't you just leave?" He responded, clenching his teeth.
"You want to kick me off the team, eh? Not today! I quit!" I said in his face, distinctly.
"You can't quit! I'll tell everyone that I kicked you off!" Flint yelled at me as I flew down to the ground and left the pitch, and the Quidditch team. Can you believe the nerve of that stupid freak?! Oh, I wish I could beat him up so bad! But hey, look on the bright side! Now I can cheer for Ollie's team at Quidditch matches instead of playing against him! I wonder how Ollie is going to take this news.I hope he'll be happy. Because I am! I'm happy I left that shtupid, Quidditch team lead by that shtupid monkey.And he's not one of those smart monkeys that can do sign language, and stuff. He's one of those shtupid, lazy, banana-eating monkeys! Or something like that.Whatever he is, it's not a good thing. But not threatening in any way! He's just annoying. Very annoying.
November 23, 1992-Hogwarts-6th year
Today was a turning point in my and Ollie's relationship. Oliver is officially scared of me now. Why in the world is he scared of me, you may ask? Possibly since I almost murdered him today at his Keeper practice. Not intentionally, of course, but still. We had the field to ourselves (or so I thought at the moment) seeing that it was a Sunday, and nobody really likes to train on Sundays for some deranged reason. Once we were both in the air, I tossed the Quaffle back and forth in my hands. Smirking, I asked Oliver something.
"Would you like me to go easy on you today?" I questioned teasingly.
"Nah," He replied, smiling, "I think I can cope with your best just this once."
"Alright," I began, making it sound as if it had been an unwise decision, "If you're sure." After I'd said that, he took off towards the end of the pitch, to the goalposts. By that time, I'd basically given up on using Katie's Chaser tactics on Ollie. He seemed to be ambidextrous or something, seeing that he didn't have a weak side. So I'd have to use cleverness to win this one. Anyway, I began to try and focus my energy into the throw I was about to make, when suddenly a loud voice interrupted me.
"LINDSAY THROWS LIKE A GIRL!" Draco Malfoy shouted from the stands. Where'd he come from? His only two friends, Crabbe and Goyle, of course, accompanied him. Mumbling in frustration, I quickly flew towards him.
"What are you doing here?" I demanded, rather bossy-like.
"I'm here to taunt you. Why else? I wouldn't come here to watch you play Quidditch, seeing that you're so bad at it." Both Crabbe and Goyle sniggered at this remark.
"Aren't you afraid of me? Shouldn't you be running in terror by now?"
"You can't transfigure me into anything! You didn't even take Transfiguration for more than three years!" Draco sneered. I raised my eyebrow.
"Where did you hear that?" I asked, a bit curious. Obviously, he'd gone through a lot of trouble just to find a way to make fun of me. Pretty pathetic, isn't it?
"Well---I, Erm-Your sister told me!"
"Katie would never talk to such low-life scum bags, even if her life depended on it! Admit it! You spent a lot of time researching my stupid profile, just so you could get a way to come here and make fun of me, didn't you? And if you insist on saying that I throw like a girl, then perhaps I could beat the parp out of you, like a girl!" Now Oliver flew over towards us, seeing what in the world I was doing.
"Lindsay, what are you doing? We're supposed to be practicing!" Ollie motioned towards the goalposts. I just rolled my eyes.
"I know, I know, but this dim-witted freak decided to show up to try and make fun of me. And, if I might add, to spy on us!" I accused, glaring at the blonde haired boy.
"I-I am not spying for Slytherin! Why would Slytherin need to spy on Mudbloods like you?" Draco sputtered, knowing he was about to get caught. And as my eyes narrowed at the second-year boy, Ollie's eyes widened.
"Flint sent you here, to spy on us!" He said suddenly. I just gave him look that said 'DUH'. Rolling my eyes, I looked back at Draco.
"I'd better not catch you doing anything else like this again. Or I'll learn how to turn you into a bunny, and then.turn you into a bunny! But not a cute bunny! One of those ugly, stupid ones!" I narrowed my eyes at him again, and he nudged his two friends, and ran out of the stadium, without doubt in terror.
"Shall we get back to our training?" I suggested, gesturing back towards the pitch.
"Whatever," He answered, seeming a bit disturbed by the encounter he had just experienced with Draco. Shrugging the 'weirdness', Oliver and I flew back to our previous hovering areas. This time, I didn't need to focus my energy, I was already seething mad from that shtupid Draco's visit. Furiously, I chucked the Quaffle towards Ollie as hard as I could. Evidently, I had thrown the ball extremely hard, as he quickly moved out of the way as it sped towards him at an exceptionally high velocity. This surprised me, seeing that it was so unlike him to do such a thing. Seeing as Ollie didn't catch the ball, or hit it back to me, it continued to soar out of the pitch and onto the grass outside of the stadium.
"Oops." I muttered, squinting to find the Quaffle in the grass.
"That was totally wicked, Lindsay! Where did you learn to do that?" Ollie shouted from the goalposts, perceptibly impressed. I just flew over towards the location where the red, leather ball lay, swooped down, and picked it up quickly, flying back into the sports ground. The Gryffindor Quidditch-Obsessed boy just gazed at me with amazement.
"What?" I asked innocently.
"Where did you learn to throw like that? Katie's never done that before!" He spoke eagerly, his eyes wide.
"I-I don't know.I guess it was just a lucky throw?"
"Then why don't you go over there and see if you can get another 'lucky throw'," Oliver did finger quotes around the words lucky throw. At this point, I had to admit that he was for the first time acting like he was my coach, instead of my boyfriend.
"Yes, Captain," I mumbled, saluting to him sarcastically before flying off to the Central Circle again.
"Now there's the respect I deserve!" He yelled from the other end of the field, also sarcastically. I giggled a bit.
"You wish, Oliver!" I yelled back, preparing for another throw. Again, I attempting at using anger for my energy source. I started to think about all the times that someone has made me really mad. A scene I'd like to forget flickered in my mind. It happened to be the time, when I was in my third year, where Flint threatened me after he'd sent a Bludger at me during a Quidditch game, sending me to the Hospital Wing. My left eye twitched involuntarily just at the thought of it.
"No one threatens me." I whispered, pulling my arm back to throw the Quaffle, ".Especially big ugly trolls who think that they're clever!" I screamed in rage as I lunged the ball at Oliver once more. To my surprise, he hit it back to me, but not without difficulty.
"Oh, I felt that one," I heard Ollie mumble. After catching the Quaffle, I smirked, as I suddenly had an idea.
"Oliver! Get ready, I have an idea!" I called to him, glancing at the ball and pulling my wand from my robe pocket.
"Oh no, this can't be good," Once again, I heard Oliver mumble. Unexpectedly, I hurled the red ball at my boyfriend. As I'd expected, I'd thrown it incredibly hard, and Ollie missed the block, as the Quaffle went through the right goal hoop. Before he went to go fetch it, I pointed my wand at the game ball and said clearly.
"Accio!" As soon as I said that, the Quaffle flew back at me, and I caught it. Smiling, I glanced at Ollie. He just gave me a weird look. Shrugging it off, I continued that process every time Ollie missed a block. And, I continued using my anger to my advantage. Occasionally, I'd scream something that didn't really make sense, out of rage. Such as, "YOU WILL PAY!" and "OH, I REALLY HATE YOU!!" and, my favorite, "YOU BAG OF STINK!" Of course, Ollie was a bit confused, as well as scared, but ignored it, as it was a very good practice. Afterwards, as we were walking back to the castle, he finally confronted me with a question that'd been obviously bugging him at practice.
"Who were those comments you made back there directed toward? Me or the Quaffle?" He questioned. I just laughed.
"No one, shtupid!" I laughed again, "Mainly those were things I wish I could scream at Flint or Draco. I'd never say those things to you!" Oliver twitched at the sound of Flint's name, but smiled nonetheless. "Well, not unless you do something really rotten to me, then I'd hurt you." He stopped smiling, before he could say anything, I quickly reassured him. "I'm only joking! Gosh.get a sense of humor!" I exclaimed, shoving him playfully.
"Eh.I knew you were joking. I was just about to comment on your abilities to hurt people. You haven't got any, have you?" He replied, humorously. I gasped, though knowing he was joking.
"You are going to pay for what you said, Oliver Wood!!" I shrieked as I began to run after my boyfriend. I chased him all the way back to the castle, where he gave up. Yes, victory is mine! Heh, heh.Anyway, the rest of the day was all right. Traci was bugging me a bit before bed, though. She claimed that I'd stolen her new lipstick. Like I would do something like that? Heh, of course I wouldn't.Or would I? (I'm only joking!)
May 2, 1993-Hogwarts-6th year
I feel so sorry for Oliver right now. His match against Hufflepuff was cancelled today! Apparently, there'd been two more student- attacks. This time, it was two girls. Both of which, I knew. One was Penelope Clearwater, a nice Ravenclaw girl who is in her 6th year, like me, and a Prefect, also like me. The other was a 2nd year Gryffindor, Hermione Granger, whom I'd spoken to once at the library. The day started out like any ordinary Saturday. After breakfast, the entire school (or at least most of the school) headed down to the Quidditch stadium to watch the game, which would determine the winner of this year's Quidditch Cup. Ollie was psyched about the whole thing, seeing that this would be Gryffindor's first Quidditch Cup in a long time. (Slytherin usually takes it.) I know, you're probably wondering why this match isn't against Slytherin, right? Well, ever since they let that scum buy his way onto the team, and after Flint kicked me off (-cough, cough-) our team suffered its worst string of losses in many years! Oh, that makes me so mad! If he hadn't of kicked me off, then we might've had a chance! But then again, Draco is the worst Seeker in the known universe. The only reason he wanted on the team was to get back at that Potter kid! He doesn't care about the game, as I've noticed during games he doesn't pay attention at all! I wish I could just punch both of them. Flint, and Draco that is. Anyway, back to the story, we all went down to the stadium to watch the match. While no one was looking, I slipped into the Gryffindor Locker area to give Oliver a quick bit of encouragement. Besides, this was the biggest game of the year, was it not? I just gave him a quick hug and wished him 'good luck'. (Or "viel gluck" as the Germans say.-coughs- Okay, moving on now.) I then took my place in the stands, in the Prefect box, with Percy and Traci, but I noticed that one of the Ravenclaw Prefects was missing. Yes, it was the girl whom Percy seems to hang around frequently. I was the only one who seemed to notice, so I just shrugged it off. Once the game balls were released and most of the players were in the air, Professor McGonagall stomped onto the field with a megaphone and announced.
"This match has been cancelled," She said, talking through the megaphone. Then I saw Oliver fly over to the Professor and yell something to her, which I did not hear. Whatever he said, she seemed to ignore it as she went on. "All students are to make their way back to the House common rooms, where their Heads of Houses will give them further information. As quickly as you can, please!" I just blinked. They.cancelled the match? They cancelled my Oliver's most important match of the year? This wouldn't be good.Ollie was probably devastated! Quickly, I made my way past the crowd of students migrating back to the castle, and attempted to find Ollie. I found him, as expected, in the Gryffindor changing room. He was sitting on a bench, with his head in his hands. I sat down on the bench with him, and put my arm around him.
"Oh, Ollie, cheer up! You always have next year!" I said, trying to make light of the subject, though I knew it was hopeless. It wouldn't be easy for Oliver to get over this, seeing how winning the Quidditch Cup means everything to him. He has somewhat of a 'winning-is-everything' attitude. Before he replied, he sniffled, signifying that he'd been crying.
"But there's a chance we won't make it this far next year. And Gryffindor hasn't made it to the final match in five years! And now we'll never get a shot at the Cup." He spoke softly, not looking at me.
"Don't be so cynical! Now that I'm not on the team anymore, and that slimy Malfoy kid is on the team, Slytherin doesn't stand a chance against anyone. Not even Gryffindor." I responded, trying to keep my cheery tone. "Now come on, we've got to get to our common rooms. You know what Professor McGonagall said." Standing up, I waited for Ollie to follow. He did after a few seconds, seeing that I wasn't going to sympathize him any more. We walked quickly back to the castle, were we both went separate ways, heading towards our common rooms. When I reached the area, it was buzzing with chatter. Making my way through the talking crowd, I attempted at finding Professor Snape. I found him eventually talking to another Prefect.
"Professor, what is going on here?" I yelled, trying to be heard over the noise.
"There's been another attack, Bell. Two girls were found near the library. Petrified." Professor Snape yelled back, sounding a bit irritated. Obviously, he'd been asked this many times. "Now if you'll excuse me, I must make an announcement." He said, pushing past me towards the front of the room. I just stood there in shock. Two more students attacked?! That makes four students all together! Two Gryffindors, one Hufflepuff, and one Ravenclaw. Since there has been no Slytherin attacked yet, people are starting to expect us Slytherins as being the attacker! How dare they make such an assumption?! It's mainly the Gryffindors who are saying that, though. They've always hated us, anyway. Probably because we always beat them at the end of the year with House Points. Nonetheless, this is becoming a real threat now.I mean, those students that were attacked might never wake up again! This was a time when us Prefect's should come in handy. Our leadership skills should help rid some of the confusion, and restore sereneness back into the order of things. But, after what I heard from Snape with his announcement, I went completely mad. I managed to get the parchment from which Snape read today so I could copy it for you, so you can see how ridiculous the safety precautions they are taking now.
"All students will return to their House common rooms by six o'clock in the evening. No student is to leave the dormitories after that time. You will be escorted to each lesson by a teacher. No student is to use the bathroom unaccompanied by a teacher. Al further Quidditch training and matches are to be postponed. There will be no more evening activities."
Oh my God! Can you believe the nerve of Headmaster Dumbledore?! He shouldn't have the right to postpone Quidditch activities!! And we can't go to the loo without a teacher 'accompanying' us? This is pure madness! MADNESS!!! If I could do anything about it, I'd change everything! But no, I'm just a poor, lowly Prefect with no power whatsoever except to deduct House Points. Ugh.but still, it is a terrible pity of who was attacked. No wonder that Penelope girl wasn't at the match today! Yes, she was too busy getting attacked by the library, I assume. Not like it is her fault, or anything. I believe Madam Pomfrey is very busy at the moment. Heh, heh, I hope she's up all night working on this one. She deserves it, after being so pushy! Anyway, I'd better go. They're demanding that we all go to bed now.
I swear, we at Hogwarts have the shtupidest Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher in the entire world! No, make that the entire universe! A troll would have been better than Gilderoy Lockhart! Today, when I had his class, I had half-a-mind to just hex him! He's so self-obsessed! And an airhead! And you know how much I hate people like that.I might as well tell you what happened today in his class. Well, I have this class with Oliver, so I figured that it wouldn't be so bad. I was so wrong. Lockhart came in promptly when the class was to start and began to babble mindlessly. Mostly about himself, and how many awards he's won. Who cares? Not me. But when he mentioned the word quiz, I immediately began to pay attention.
"I figured that since all of you have read my books thoroughly-" (Someone snorted, but Lockhart went on anyway)-"that we'd start the class off today with a quiz!" Lockhart said to the class, smiling his stupid, smile. Just for sarcastic purposes, I smiled sarcastically back at him. Then Lockhart passed out the papers. I looked down at the "quiz". It looked a bit like this: What is Gilderoy Lockhart's Favourite Colour? Name one of Gilderoy Lockhart's secret ambitions. My hand shot up before he could say anything.
"Yes.Erm-whatever your name is?" He asked, looking at me.
"Yes, Professor Lockhart, as I am reading this little 'quiz' you're making us take, I do have some questions." I stated, trying to sound smart and intelligent, as to make Lockhart look as dumb as he is.
"I'd be glad to answer them!" He replied, smiling. I smiled back at him.
"Then you'd be so glad as to answer me why in the world knowing your favorite color and secret ambitions is going to help us in the Defense Against the Dark Arts field? Hmm?" I looked up at him, my eyes looking innocent. The entire class turned to look at me. Lockhart seemed a bit stumped.
"Well-I, erm." He sputtered, not knowing this answer. I could've stopped there, basking in my great victory, but I had to humiliate this man further.
"Is there a beast out there that makes you recite all of your greatest achievements or else he eats you?" This time, I laid the sarcasm on that comment pretty thick, hoping he'd catch it. The class laughed. Lockhart just stood in front of the class, sputtering like an idiot. Finally, he put words together that made a complete sentence.
"Well, young lady, I am simply checking to see how well you read my books!" He finally said, smiling again. I raised an eyebrow.
"But why." I started to make another smart-aleck comment, but stopped when Ollie nudged me really hard with his elbow. His way of saying, "Shut up!" I took a deep breath, and clenched my teeth.
"Oh, I see now Professor. Thank you for explaining." I said smiling falsely. Underneath the desk, I clenched my fists.
"Why you're welcome! That is what I'm here for!" Lockhart replied cheerfully, obviously knowing that he'd won. "Now," He started, "you may begin your quiz!" Once he turned his back, I scowled at him. What an idiot, I thought as I easily breezed through the test. I knew all of the answers (I never forget anything that I read), but Oliver didn't. I inconspicuously scooted my paper over towards him so he could cheat. I didn't care if he copied my answers this time. This quiz didn't involve any "valuable" information anyway. When our thirty-minutes were up, we all passed in our papers. Just as I suspected, Lockhart had to go over the quiz in class. I rolled my eyes as he went through all of the questions and answers. Who cared if his favorite color was lilac? What we really wanted was to learn how to defend ourselves against the Dark Arts! After what seemed like an eternity, Lockhart put down the stack of papers.
"Now, let's get on to business!" He exclaimed, pulling a cage from under his desk. It had a cover over it, so we couldn't see what was inside. "Now, I must ask you all not to scream or panic when you see what is in this cage. You might aggravate them." The way he talked about whatever was in that cage, you'd think he had something neat in there! Like a baby dragon, or something. But everyone was disappointed as it turned out to be.
"Freshly caught Cornish Pixies!" Once he said this, I immediately burst out laughing. This man thought that Pixies were dangerous and scary? Perhaps to him, maybe.I soon realized that I was the only one laughing. I stopped. Lockhart just stared at me, unblinking for a second, and then went on to the lesson. "Let's see how well you make of them!" He stated cheerfully, opening the cage. How stupid can this man be? Releasing Pixies on a class of 6th years? Of course we could handle them! We used a few freezing charms and stuffed them in their cage. The situation was handled in less than five minutes. Lockhart was shocked. Obviously, a group of 6th years were just proved to be more intelligent than he was. There was time left before the end of class, so he simply let us talk for the rest of the time while he prepared yet another dumb, boring speech for the next class.
"Oh my God, Oliver did you see the look on his face when we all caught those Pixies?" I giggled as I talked to Ollie when I was sure Lockhart wasn't listening. Even if he was, I wouldn't care. He really needs to hear something negative about himself. "I wish I had a picture of that!"
"Linds, you really shouldn't have been such a smart-aleck. Give the Professor a chance! Maybe he'll get.smarter?"
"Oliver, this 'Professor' tells every class that he's won the Witch Weekly's Most-Charming-Smile Award five times! Does this strike you as a good quality?"
"Erm.no?"
"Of course not! He's self-obsessed.. And stupid. You saw yourself! The man gave us a quiz over his favorite colors! Does this sound like a normal person to you?"
"Not really," Ollie said, finally giving in.
"Exactly. And that is why we must find a way to destroy him." I smirked evilly. Ollie looked at me strangely.
"You're scaring me, Lindsay. Stop."
"No, don't you see Ollie? This is our chance to exploit Gilderoy Lockhart for who he really is! Just a.a."
"A Professor?"
"No! A really unintelligent person!" I corrected him, making it sound as if the answer was inevitable.
"Alright, whatever you say Lindsay." Ollie sighed and looked away, obviously embarrassed by me. My eyes narrowed at Professor Lockhart, sitting at his desk. What weapon should I chose to destroy his confidence? Ah-ha! I knew it! I'd give him a potion.I'm good at potions. But what potion? An ugly potion? No, too easy. The really good potions were in the restricted section! I'd just have to deal with what I had. Perhaps I could mix potions! All I had to slip it into his drink at a meal when he wasn't looking.Ah, never mind. I'll just slowly kill him during class with my sarcastic remarks. That should be easy. And fun.so fun.
October 5, 1992-Hogwarts-6th year
Oh, guess what?! I'm not on the Quidditch team any more!! Isn't this year going so well for me? Note the sarcasm. I assume both Marcus and I had enough of each other at practice today, so he chucked me off of the team! And you know what? I was glad to go, too! That shtupid hoof was really getting on my nerves anyway. I suppose it started with the terrible weather. It was incredibly crummy, with it raining off and on as it did. That didn't make very well Quidditch conditions at practice today, so Flint was already parped off, on top of me being annoying. We started practice as usual, with Marcus talking to us about a few new tactics he'd managed to concoct inside of that extremely small brain of his. I was sitting as far away from him as possible, trying to avoid an unwanted confrontation. But when he began to explain a new play for the Chasers, my hand shot up immediately. I didn't do this out of respect for the slimy git, but the gesture was simply out of habit. I was raising my hand, because this new 'play' was clearly a foul. It involved one Chaser with the Quaffle going into the Scoring Area, while two other Chasers' began speeding toward the Keeper, trying to distract them. If I remember my readings correctly, there could be two fouls involved in this scenario. Stooging, and Blatching. Of course, the Blatching is inevitable, but the Stooging is a possibility. If indeed the other Chasers, while flying toward the Keeper with the intent of distraction, accidentally enter the Scoring Area while the other Chaser is still in the area, it could be a foul. And a penalty to Gryffindor would not be pleasant, seeing that lately they'd been flattening us in matches. Anyway, I was sitting there, waving my arm around frantically, trying to catch Flint's attention before he leaked any more of his stupidity on anyone on the team. Finally, he rolled his eyes, and looked at me. I could see him clench his teeth.
"Alright, what is it, Bell?" He asked, seemingly irritated.
"Finally, my hand had been up for ages-" I began, but was interrupted by Flint's impatience.
"Please Bell, spare us the sarcasm and get on with it."
"Well," I began again, hoping that he wouldn't interrupt me once more, "I have a few comments to make on that new play concerning the Chasers."
"And.I don't care." He said, stopping me once more.
"Well, have a care, Marcus, because this is important." I was trying to control my anger at this moment, seeing that Flint was being a stubborn little troll.
"This better be good," Flint answered, crossing his arms across his chest.
"That play that you just explained, well, it has a fowl in it. Two to be exact. Blatching and Stooging. Obviously, this play isn't all it's said to be, eh?" I said smugly. Flint just thought for a moment. Obviously, I'd won this battle. Or perhaps not.
"Where? I see no flaw in the play. Perhaps you'd be so kind as to explain to the team the thing I looked over, hmm?" By this point, he was actually starting to sound intelligent. It was a bit intimidating, but I was quicker.
"For God's sake, Marcus, don't you read?" He gave me a blank look. I went on. "The Chasers can't fly towards the Keeper like that! It can be perceived as Blatching, which is flying with an intent to collide. And also, what if the Chasers fly too far, or don't stop quickly enough and accidentally enter the Scoring Area while the other Chaser is still in there? Well, everyone knows that that's Stooging! And we don't need to give Gryffindor a penalty, now do we?" I finished, a bit irritated. I mean, a monkey would do a better job of coaching us than he does!
"So, what your saying, Lindsay, is that you can come up with a more clever play than mine?" Flint asked, not about to give up at this point.
"No, I didn't say that, but now that you mention it, I could do your job a lot better than you could!" I answered, raising my voice a little bit. Oh no.here we go again.
"Then go ahead! Coach this practice! Let's all see you do a 'better' job than me!" He yelled, sitting down on the bench with the rest of the team, leaving the front of the room open.
"Alright then," I smiled as I stood up and walked to the position where Flint usually occupies at this time. "I know this play might be a bit difficult-" (Flint snorted.) "-But with our team, I believe we can pull it off." I smiled, seeing that I now had the attention of the team. "Remember, with this one, pinpoint timing is essential. Warrington, once you get the Quaffle, fly around a bit getting the opposing Chasers to chase you. Then, quickly do a Porskoff Ploy. Afterward, I'll be waiting underneath you, so throw the Quaffle down to me. This is where you come in, Flint. I'll do a Reverse Pass to you; you'll catch it, shimmy down the field, and attempt a goal! The other team won't know what hit them!" Someone coughed. I took a deep breath, as I had somehow managed to talk at an extremely high speed. I glanced at Flint for a second. He was obviously trying to create the play in his head, seeing if it would work. I gave him a second to finish, seeing that it would take his slow mind a minute to conclude the task. Suddenly, someone whom was scarily familiar raised his hand. I gasped. "Draco, what in the world are you doing here?" I asked, placing my hands on my hips, annoyed as heck that Draco had managed to sneak in here.
"You haven't heard? I'm Slytherin's new Seeker!" The boy replied conceitedly. "Who in the world in their right mind would let such rubbish onto the Quidditch team?" Then I remembered that Flint was in charge of who was on the team. "No, wait, forget that. What do you want?" "Where are the Beaters, the Keeper, and I supposed to be during all of this? It seems you somehow forgot to add us into your play." Draco responded, attempting to make me look shtupid. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Flint smirk, as if he'd found a flaw in my 'ingenious' plan.
"Yes Bell, where will the Seeker, Keeper, and Beaters going to be during all of that?" Flint asked quite haughtily.
"Well, captain, the Seeker, the Keeper, and Beaters will be continuing to do their job. Draco here will carry on as usual, searching for the Snitch. And Bole and Derrick here will simply keep the Bludgers away from us as they do at every game. Is that simple enough for you, or should I write it out on the board?" I answered, this time getting the last word out of that ugly freak. "Very well, then!" I exclaimed, breaking the silence, "Anyone else have anymore questions?"
"Yeah!" Called out Bole, one of the Beaters, "Why can't you be our captain?" Both of the Beaters sniggered. Flint turned around and glared at them. It was going so well! The whole team was back on my side! For the moment anyway.
"Now, why don't we all go and try this thing out?" I suggested nicely, trying so hard to ignore Flint's mean looks.
"Fine with me," Warrington, the third Chaser said, standing up with his broom. Everyone looked at the captain now, waiting for an approval to follow me out onto the pitch. He just sighed annoyingly.
"Whatever, whatever," Flint spoke quickly inevitably mad now. His little plan to humiliate me didn't work! Ha, ha! That shows him that he can't mess with a Bell! Especially one much smarter than him, like me. I just smiled, and walked with the team out of the changing room and onto the pitch. It had stopped raining for a few hours, so it was a bit dryer, but the ground was still soggy.
"Watch out for the mud, people." I warned everyone, dodging a murky puddle near the Central Circle.
"Oh, oh, watch out for the mud," I heard Flint mock me as he walked out on the pitch with us. Ignoring him once more, I mounted my Nimbus 1000 (An older model of the Nimbus 2000, 2001.) and soared into the air. The entire team had been given Nimbus 2001, courtesy of Lucious Malfoy, but I preferred my broomstick to a new one. And besides, Mum told me not to accept any gifts from the Malfoys, in case they'd jinxed it in some way. Everyone else followed me into the air as well, including Draco and Flint.
"Who has the Quaffle?" I asked, scanning everyone, searching for it with my eyes.
"I do," Warrington answered, holding it up.
"Good, now, flying around for a second, then try a Porskoff Ploy, alright?" I requested pleasantly. Warrington just smiled and did as he was told. I assume that he liked being ordered around by me, rather than Flint. When he had flown the length of the pitch, he picked up speed and flew towards the Central Circle. Swiftly, he flew straight upwards, and threw the Quaffle down to me, where I was hovering. Hurriedly, I sped down to the opposite end of the pitch with the Quaffle tucked under my arm. "Flint!" I yelled, trying to get his attention. Next, I threw the ball over my shoulder, where Flint was supposed to be waiting to catch it. Well, let's just say he had a little attitude problem and didn't feel like being a good sport. The Quaffle just fell to the ground, landing on the wet grass. Frustrated, I flew over to him, angry. "What happened?! You were supposed to be right there!" I yelled, not caring about containing my anger anymore.
"Your play is stupid. It'll never work. This is all just a waste of our training time." He sneered. By now, I was really mad, and just went all crazy.
"BLOODY HELL, MARCUS!!! WHEN WILL YOU STOP ACTING LIKE YOU'RE TWO YEARS OLD AND ACTUALLY GROW UP FOR A CHANGE?! I KNOW THAT WE DON'T LIKE EACH OTHER, BUT WHEN WE'RE OUT HERE ON THE FIELD, WE HAVE TO PUT THAT ALL BEHIND US, DAMNIT!" I screamed in Flint's face. Now he just looked at me, as if that was the first time I'd yelled at him.
"No need to raise your voice, Lindsay. I am right here." Flint spoke, once again, almost sounding like he owned an IQ point higher than his age.
"I WILL RAISE MY VOICE IF I BLOODY WELL FEEL LIKE IT! YOU CAN'T TELL ME WHAT TO DO! I'M A PREFECT!!!!" I shrieked again, resisting the urge to punch the parp out of him.
"If you're going to be so damn mean, then why don't you just leave?" He responded, clenching his teeth.
"You want to kick me off the team, eh? Not today! I quit!" I said in his face, distinctly.
"You can't quit! I'll tell everyone that I kicked you off!" Flint yelled at me as I flew down to the ground and left the pitch, and the Quidditch team. Can you believe the nerve of that stupid freak?! Oh, I wish I could beat him up so bad! But hey, look on the bright side! Now I can cheer for Ollie's team at Quidditch matches instead of playing against him! I wonder how Ollie is going to take this news.I hope he'll be happy. Because I am! I'm happy I left that shtupid, Quidditch team lead by that shtupid monkey.And he's not one of those smart monkeys that can do sign language, and stuff. He's one of those shtupid, lazy, banana-eating monkeys! Or something like that.Whatever he is, it's not a good thing. But not threatening in any way! He's just annoying. Very annoying.
November 23, 1992-Hogwarts-6th year
Today was a turning point in my and Ollie's relationship. Oliver is officially scared of me now. Why in the world is he scared of me, you may ask? Possibly since I almost murdered him today at his Keeper practice. Not intentionally, of course, but still. We had the field to ourselves (or so I thought at the moment) seeing that it was a Sunday, and nobody really likes to train on Sundays for some deranged reason. Once we were both in the air, I tossed the Quaffle back and forth in my hands. Smirking, I asked Oliver something.
"Would you like me to go easy on you today?" I questioned teasingly.
"Nah," He replied, smiling, "I think I can cope with your best just this once."
"Alright," I began, making it sound as if it had been an unwise decision, "If you're sure." After I'd said that, he took off towards the end of the pitch, to the goalposts. By that time, I'd basically given up on using Katie's Chaser tactics on Ollie. He seemed to be ambidextrous or something, seeing that he didn't have a weak side. So I'd have to use cleverness to win this one. Anyway, I began to try and focus my energy into the throw I was about to make, when suddenly a loud voice interrupted me.
"LINDSAY THROWS LIKE A GIRL!" Draco Malfoy shouted from the stands. Where'd he come from? His only two friends, Crabbe and Goyle, of course, accompanied him. Mumbling in frustration, I quickly flew towards him.
"What are you doing here?" I demanded, rather bossy-like.
"I'm here to taunt you. Why else? I wouldn't come here to watch you play Quidditch, seeing that you're so bad at it." Both Crabbe and Goyle sniggered at this remark.
"Aren't you afraid of me? Shouldn't you be running in terror by now?"
"You can't transfigure me into anything! You didn't even take Transfiguration for more than three years!" Draco sneered. I raised my eyebrow.
"Where did you hear that?" I asked, a bit curious. Obviously, he'd gone through a lot of trouble just to find a way to make fun of me. Pretty pathetic, isn't it?
"Well---I, Erm-Your sister told me!"
"Katie would never talk to such low-life scum bags, even if her life depended on it! Admit it! You spent a lot of time researching my stupid profile, just so you could get a way to come here and make fun of me, didn't you? And if you insist on saying that I throw like a girl, then perhaps I could beat the parp out of you, like a girl!" Now Oliver flew over towards us, seeing what in the world I was doing.
"Lindsay, what are you doing? We're supposed to be practicing!" Ollie motioned towards the goalposts. I just rolled my eyes.
"I know, I know, but this dim-witted freak decided to show up to try and make fun of me. And, if I might add, to spy on us!" I accused, glaring at the blonde haired boy.
"I-I am not spying for Slytherin! Why would Slytherin need to spy on Mudbloods like you?" Draco sputtered, knowing he was about to get caught. And as my eyes narrowed at the second-year boy, Ollie's eyes widened.
"Flint sent you here, to spy on us!" He said suddenly. I just gave him look that said 'DUH'. Rolling my eyes, I looked back at Draco.
"I'd better not catch you doing anything else like this again. Or I'll learn how to turn you into a bunny, and then.turn you into a bunny! But not a cute bunny! One of those ugly, stupid ones!" I narrowed my eyes at him again, and he nudged his two friends, and ran out of the stadium, without doubt in terror.
"Shall we get back to our training?" I suggested, gesturing back towards the pitch.
"Whatever," He answered, seeming a bit disturbed by the encounter he had just experienced with Draco. Shrugging the 'weirdness', Oliver and I flew back to our previous hovering areas. This time, I didn't need to focus my energy, I was already seething mad from that shtupid Draco's visit. Furiously, I chucked the Quaffle towards Ollie as hard as I could. Evidently, I had thrown the ball extremely hard, as he quickly moved out of the way as it sped towards him at an exceptionally high velocity. This surprised me, seeing that it was so unlike him to do such a thing. Seeing as Ollie didn't catch the ball, or hit it back to me, it continued to soar out of the pitch and onto the grass outside of the stadium.
"Oops." I muttered, squinting to find the Quaffle in the grass.
"That was totally wicked, Lindsay! Where did you learn to do that?" Ollie shouted from the goalposts, perceptibly impressed. I just flew over towards the location where the red, leather ball lay, swooped down, and picked it up quickly, flying back into the sports ground. The Gryffindor Quidditch-Obsessed boy just gazed at me with amazement.
"What?" I asked innocently.
"Where did you learn to throw like that? Katie's never done that before!" He spoke eagerly, his eyes wide.
"I-I don't know.I guess it was just a lucky throw?"
"Then why don't you go over there and see if you can get another 'lucky throw'," Oliver did finger quotes around the words lucky throw. At this point, I had to admit that he was for the first time acting like he was my coach, instead of my boyfriend.
"Yes, Captain," I mumbled, saluting to him sarcastically before flying off to the Central Circle again.
"Now there's the respect I deserve!" He yelled from the other end of the field, also sarcastically. I giggled a bit.
"You wish, Oliver!" I yelled back, preparing for another throw. Again, I attempting at using anger for my energy source. I started to think about all the times that someone has made me really mad. A scene I'd like to forget flickered in my mind. It happened to be the time, when I was in my third year, where Flint threatened me after he'd sent a Bludger at me during a Quidditch game, sending me to the Hospital Wing. My left eye twitched involuntarily just at the thought of it.
"No one threatens me." I whispered, pulling my arm back to throw the Quaffle, ".Especially big ugly trolls who think that they're clever!" I screamed in rage as I lunged the ball at Oliver once more. To my surprise, he hit it back to me, but not without difficulty.
"Oh, I felt that one," I heard Ollie mumble. After catching the Quaffle, I smirked, as I suddenly had an idea.
"Oliver! Get ready, I have an idea!" I called to him, glancing at the ball and pulling my wand from my robe pocket.
"Oh no, this can't be good," Once again, I heard Oliver mumble. Unexpectedly, I hurled the red ball at my boyfriend. As I'd expected, I'd thrown it incredibly hard, and Ollie missed the block, as the Quaffle went through the right goal hoop. Before he went to go fetch it, I pointed my wand at the game ball and said clearly.
"Accio!" As soon as I said that, the Quaffle flew back at me, and I caught it. Smiling, I glanced at Ollie. He just gave me a weird look. Shrugging it off, I continued that process every time Ollie missed a block. And, I continued using my anger to my advantage. Occasionally, I'd scream something that didn't really make sense, out of rage. Such as, "YOU WILL PAY!" and "OH, I REALLY HATE YOU!!" and, my favorite, "YOU BAG OF STINK!" Of course, Ollie was a bit confused, as well as scared, but ignored it, as it was a very good practice. Afterwards, as we were walking back to the castle, he finally confronted me with a question that'd been obviously bugging him at practice.
"Who were those comments you made back there directed toward? Me or the Quaffle?" He questioned. I just laughed.
"No one, shtupid!" I laughed again, "Mainly those were things I wish I could scream at Flint or Draco. I'd never say those things to you!" Oliver twitched at the sound of Flint's name, but smiled nonetheless. "Well, not unless you do something really rotten to me, then I'd hurt you." He stopped smiling, before he could say anything, I quickly reassured him. "I'm only joking! Gosh.get a sense of humor!" I exclaimed, shoving him playfully.
"Eh.I knew you were joking. I was just about to comment on your abilities to hurt people. You haven't got any, have you?" He replied, humorously. I gasped, though knowing he was joking.
"You are going to pay for what you said, Oliver Wood!!" I shrieked as I began to run after my boyfriend. I chased him all the way back to the castle, where he gave up. Yes, victory is mine! Heh, heh.Anyway, the rest of the day was all right. Traci was bugging me a bit before bed, though. She claimed that I'd stolen her new lipstick. Like I would do something like that? Heh, of course I wouldn't.Or would I? (I'm only joking!)
May 2, 1993-Hogwarts-6th year
I feel so sorry for Oliver right now. His match against Hufflepuff was cancelled today! Apparently, there'd been two more student- attacks. This time, it was two girls. Both of which, I knew. One was Penelope Clearwater, a nice Ravenclaw girl who is in her 6th year, like me, and a Prefect, also like me. The other was a 2nd year Gryffindor, Hermione Granger, whom I'd spoken to once at the library. The day started out like any ordinary Saturday. After breakfast, the entire school (or at least most of the school) headed down to the Quidditch stadium to watch the game, which would determine the winner of this year's Quidditch Cup. Ollie was psyched about the whole thing, seeing that this would be Gryffindor's first Quidditch Cup in a long time. (Slytherin usually takes it.) I know, you're probably wondering why this match isn't against Slytherin, right? Well, ever since they let that scum buy his way onto the team, and after Flint kicked me off (-cough, cough-) our team suffered its worst string of losses in many years! Oh, that makes me so mad! If he hadn't of kicked me off, then we might've had a chance! But then again, Draco is the worst Seeker in the known universe. The only reason he wanted on the team was to get back at that Potter kid! He doesn't care about the game, as I've noticed during games he doesn't pay attention at all! I wish I could just punch both of them. Flint, and Draco that is. Anyway, back to the story, we all went down to the stadium to watch the match. While no one was looking, I slipped into the Gryffindor Locker area to give Oliver a quick bit of encouragement. Besides, this was the biggest game of the year, was it not? I just gave him a quick hug and wished him 'good luck'. (Or "viel gluck" as the Germans say.-coughs- Okay, moving on now.) I then took my place in the stands, in the Prefect box, with Percy and Traci, but I noticed that one of the Ravenclaw Prefects was missing. Yes, it was the girl whom Percy seems to hang around frequently. I was the only one who seemed to notice, so I just shrugged it off. Once the game balls were released and most of the players were in the air, Professor McGonagall stomped onto the field with a megaphone and announced.
"This match has been cancelled," She said, talking through the megaphone. Then I saw Oliver fly over to the Professor and yell something to her, which I did not hear. Whatever he said, she seemed to ignore it as she went on. "All students are to make their way back to the House common rooms, where their Heads of Houses will give them further information. As quickly as you can, please!" I just blinked. They.cancelled the match? They cancelled my Oliver's most important match of the year? This wouldn't be good.Ollie was probably devastated! Quickly, I made my way past the crowd of students migrating back to the castle, and attempted to find Ollie. I found him, as expected, in the Gryffindor changing room. He was sitting on a bench, with his head in his hands. I sat down on the bench with him, and put my arm around him.
"Oh, Ollie, cheer up! You always have next year!" I said, trying to make light of the subject, though I knew it was hopeless. It wouldn't be easy for Oliver to get over this, seeing how winning the Quidditch Cup means everything to him. He has somewhat of a 'winning-is-everything' attitude. Before he replied, he sniffled, signifying that he'd been crying.
"But there's a chance we won't make it this far next year. And Gryffindor hasn't made it to the final match in five years! And now we'll never get a shot at the Cup." He spoke softly, not looking at me.
"Don't be so cynical! Now that I'm not on the team anymore, and that slimy Malfoy kid is on the team, Slytherin doesn't stand a chance against anyone. Not even Gryffindor." I responded, trying to keep my cheery tone. "Now come on, we've got to get to our common rooms. You know what Professor McGonagall said." Standing up, I waited for Ollie to follow. He did after a few seconds, seeing that I wasn't going to sympathize him any more. We walked quickly back to the castle, were we both went separate ways, heading towards our common rooms. When I reached the area, it was buzzing with chatter. Making my way through the talking crowd, I attempted at finding Professor Snape. I found him eventually talking to another Prefect.
"Professor, what is going on here?" I yelled, trying to be heard over the noise.
"There's been another attack, Bell. Two girls were found near the library. Petrified." Professor Snape yelled back, sounding a bit irritated. Obviously, he'd been asked this many times. "Now if you'll excuse me, I must make an announcement." He said, pushing past me towards the front of the room. I just stood there in shock. Two more students attacked?! That makes four students all together! Two Gryffindors, one Hufflepuff, and one Ravenclaw. Since there has been no Slytherin attacked yet, people are starting to expect us Slytherins as being the attacker! How dare they make such an assumption?! It's mainly the Gryffindors who are saying that, though. They've always hated us, anyway. Probably because we always beat them at the end of the year with House Points. Nonetheless, this is becoming a real threat now.I mean, those students that were attacked might never wake up again! This was a time when us Prefect's should come in handy. Our leadership skills should help rid some of the confusion, and restore sereneness back into the order of things. But, after what I heard from Snape with his announcement, I went completely mad. I managed to get the parchment from which Snape read today so I could copy it for you, so you can see how ridiculous the safety precautions they are taking now.
"All students will return to their House common rooms by six o'clock in the evening. No student is to leave the dormitories after that time. You will be escorted to each lesson by a teacher. No student is to use the bathroom unaccompanied by a teacher. Al further Quidditch training and matches are to be postponed. There will be no more evening activities."
Oh my God! Can you believe the nerve of Headmaster Dumbledore?! He shouldn't have the right to postpone Quidditch activities!! And we can't go to the loo without a teacher 'accompanying' us? This is pure madness! MADNESS!!! If I could do anything about it, I'd change everything! But no, I'm just a poor, lowly Prefect with no power whatsoever except to deduct House Points. Ugh.but still, it is a terrible pity of who was attacked. No wonder that Penelope girl wasn't at the match today! Yes, she was too busy getting attacked by the library, I assume. Not like it is her fault, or anything. I believe Madam Pomfrey is very busy at the moment. Heh, heh, I hope she's up all night working on this one. She deserves it, after being so pushy! Anyway, I'd better go. They're demanding that we all go to bed now.