A/N : Hey, everyone! I'm back – missed me? =) Thanks for the reviews, they were a nice surprise when I checked my e-mail in Switzerland. I had a great time in Europe – the boys! – but it's equally great to be back home. Ah, yes. Before I forget, someone who reviewed told me that some Malaysians may feel offended by my putting Cordelia Mey in the story and apparently making it sound like all Malaysians are evil or something of that sort. Just a note on this : I am Malaysian. As Cordy was supposed to be Asian (I didn't want Hogwarts to be completely Caucasian) I thought, OK, well, let's be patriotic today. Also, I am COMPLETELY against racism of any sort, so I apologize to anyone who took that whole Cordy thing the wrong way. And for those of you who don't know, if you review while signed in and/or if your e-mail address is visible, I'll automatically add you to a mailing list, so I can e-mail you whenever a new chapter comes out, and include a preview of the chapter as well. I figured it would be more convenient for you, but if you wouldn't like to receive the updates, please notify me in the review! Enjoy the chapter!
Chapter Ten : The Life And Times Of A Panda Man
"She looked at him in sorrow and clutched the red rose to her breast – 'Take me now,' she said, 'for my father wishes me to marry with another. Never will –'"
"The hands of another man touch my huge bosom?" Angelina suggested.
I looked up at her and gave her an evil glare. "Don't interrupt me, you hyperactive baboon."
"But she got it right, didn't she?" Fred asked with a cheeky grin on his face. All of us – meaning the entire Quidditch team, except for Oliver – were lazing about on the Quidditch pitch during a rare break. Since we hardly ever got breaks during practice, we were making the most of the time we had while Oliver went to see Madam Pomfrey about his swollen cheek (courtesy of George). At first he had insisted on keeping on with practice, but when his cheeks got so puffed up that he couldn't see, Fred and George had courteously volunteered to frogmarch him up to the hospital wing.
Panda cheeks!
I looked down at the page I was reading to them and shook my head profusely. "Nope. It says, 'Never will the hands of another man touch my flowering bosom.' There is a big difference."
I'm not very good at admitting that I'm wrong about things.
That is why I still believe that tomatoes are a vegetable.
"That is disgusting, Katie, can we please move on?" Harry asked, screwing up his face in disgust.
George clapped his hand on Harry's shoulder and shook his head, tutting away. "When you get older, Harry, you will fully appreciate the ancient art of bosom flowering. As for now, however..."
Harry pushed George's hand away in indignation. "I'm thirteen!"
"And then so," the twins said graciously.
Boys just don't appreciate good books. I mean, sure, they appreciate the bosoms in the books, but it's really not quite the same. Angie's practically a boy herself, I wonder whether she appreciates...? Oh, no. I won't even go there.
I mean, that's just not right.
"But you know, Muggles pay for that sort of flowering..." Alicia volunteered, trying to braid Fred's hair as much as his short hair would allow.
"Another reason why Muggles can be complete idiots," Angelina said lazily. "HEY!" Alicia and I interjected. Except for the both of us, the others are all Purebloods – but Alicia is a Muggleborn and I'm the best of both worlds.
But I'm sure you already knew that.
"Not all Muggles are complete idiots – but I certainly know a few who fit said description," Harry muttered darkly, shaking his head.
The poor guy. I hear the Muggle relatives he lives with are, well, complete and utter idiots. At least they haven't fully gotten to him yet, if the rumours are indeed true. I mean, it wouldn't do us any good if The Boy Who Lived was a walking, talking psychopath.
But then he wouldn't be called The-Boy-Who-Lived, would he? He'd probably be called something to the extent of The-Boy-Who-Unfortunately-Lived. Or, you know, something.
I'm not very original with names.
But you have to admit it has a sort of ring to it.
"Children! Children!" a very familiar voice suddenly called, and we all looked up to see Madam Pomfrey marching towards us.
"Pomfrey? Out of the hospital wing? Be still, my beating heart," Angelina said, arching one of her eyebrows.
We slowly and lazily got to our feet as Pomfrey continued to walk towards us, probably with news of our beloved captain.
Angelina held a fist to my face as if she was a reporter interviewing me for The Witching Hour and said in a dramatic voice, "So, Miss Bell, how do you feel waiting for news of your beloved? Nervous? Afraid yet hopeful? Are any hives breaking out? Fred, check her."
Fred would have if I hadn't smacked his hands away and snapped, "You didn't get to feel me up five years ago and you're not going to get to feel me up now."
"Will next Saturday do you, then?" he asked, eyes wide.
Please enlighten me – Angelina actually crushes on this guy, right?
"Madam Pomfrey – I haven't seen you out of the hospital wing ever since...forever!" Alicia said as Pomfrey finally reached us. The poor thing looked slightly out of breath at having to walk across half of the Quidditch pitch in such a short time. I know she's the school nurse and everything, but holing herself up in that hospital wing so much can't be very good for her health. No wonder she's so unfit – maybe I should teach her yoga.
"Well, Miss Spinnet, I do not intend to be away from my patients for very long – who knows what they're doing up there now that I'm gone?"
Doing the hokey-pokey?
"I am merely here to inform you children that your captain and Keeper, Mr Wood, will not be able to return to practice this evening, so you may return to the Gryffindor tower if you wish. Please inform his professors that he will be back in class when the swelling in his cheeks has gone down. My, my, you lot seem to keep ending up in the hospital wing, don't you? Good evening," she said crisply and turned to walk away.
"What? No cuppa tea?" George murmured softly.
We stood for a while in a comfortable silence as the evening continued to get colder. It was now nearing the end of October – meaning that it was getting pretty darn cold towards night. I like the cold, though, it makes me feel alive. Angelina, however, is a different story.
"CURSE YOU! CURSE YOU, BLOODY ROTATING PLANET EARTH! CURSE YOU, PERSON WHO CREATED AUTUMN AND WINTER! CURSE YOU, ANYBODY WHO DARES STAND UP TO THE WRATH OF ANGELINA JOHNSON!" she was currently screaming to the heavens above. Meaning noone in particular.
"Does she do this a lot?" Harry asked softly, tugging on my sleeve.
"What, scream to herself or just go bonkers in general?"
"Both."
"You'd be surprised," I told him seriously, and Alicia added an, "Affirmative."
Fred rubbed his hands together and announced, "Well, people, I think we should head in. Oh, and somebody remind me to ask Oliver for earlier practices until winter blows over."
Huh. Let's just hope that he doesn't make us practice in a full-on blizzard like when we were in our fourth year.
I know I said the cold makes me feel alive, but that doesn't mean I want to be known as Katie Leigh Bell, the Living, Breathing Popsicle. See her in full icy regalia for just £5.99 (£3.99 on weekends and bank holidays)!
Oh, well. Oliver's dedicated to his sport, I can give him that. I suppose I can go visit him tomorrow – bearing goodies!
Luckily, the lisping doorknob was gone when I went to visit Oliver the next day. I sincerely prayed it had been fired for excessive use of lisp.
"Well, if it isn't Miss Bell. I thought you'd done a disappearing act on me," Oliver said (in a slightly affected accent thanks to his panda cheeks) when I walked in.
Seating myself on the chair by his bed, I gave him a weak smile. "I didn't want Pomfrey to hang me for bringing on extra worries to her sick, bedridden patients," I whispered, giving him a conspiratory wink.
Of course, the truth is that I was just too darn lazy to get out of my favourite armchair in front of the common room fire – but he doesn't need to know that.
Oliver gave me The Look for a second, as if guessing what I was thinking, but then grinned, "This isn't a replacement class, I presume?"
Oh, right.
I'm that hardworking.
"So..." the both of us said expectantly.
There was an awkward silence until Oliver quickly said, "So where are the others?" Panda Man to the rescue! Let no awkward situation or bamboo plant stand in his way! (Cue cheesy music.)
I shrugged. "The twins and the two freakazoids have gone off somewhere – something about buying you a stuffed panda. Although they sort of look like pandas themselves; they stayed up late last night playing strip poker in the common room and they have these awful black circles under their eyes, but I don't think they really mind because apparently George has a six-pack."
Oliver's eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. "George Weasley has a six-pack?"
"I know, I couldn't believe it either when Angie was raving about it this morning!"
I really couldn't, because George isn't the type of person you would expect to have a six-pack. Apparently, Lene nearly drooled all over herself when she saw him shirtless like that – take it off, baby, take it off!
"Um, Katie?" Oliver said tentatively, biting his lip.
"Yes, Orli?" I said pleasantly, reaching for a goblet of pumpkin juice that someone had brought for him.
"What's a six-pack?"
This, of course, caused me to spray recycled pumpkin juice all over Oliver, who proceeded to yell in fright, which proceeded to act as a warning bell for Madam Pomfrey, who proceeded to march right in and drag me out of the wing by my left ear, which proceeded to make me instinctively yell out and bite her hand, which proceeded to land me a detention.
You know, it has just occurred to me that biting your professors probably does not do wonders for your testimonial at the end of your schooling years.
This is what Oliver does to your day.
"So, Katesies, I hear you went to see Oliver yesterday afternoon...how was lover boy doing?" Fred asked in a sing-song voice at dinner the next night. Everyone in our surroundings began ooohing and ahhhing until I pulled my wand out threateningly, which caused everyone to immediately begin picking at their food quietly.
"Why don't you lot go see him yourself?" I asked them, sliding my wand back into my robes.
"We have to – oof," George managed to get in before Alicia elbowed him in the stomach. Hard. "We have to....get that – thing. That – what was it? The, uh..." Alicia quickly interjected, looking around at the others helplessly.
"Stuffed panda?" I supplied helpfully.
"Right!" they all said very loudly and exchanged nervous glances.
Whoa. What's going on here? I may be Irish, but I'm not stupid.
"Guys? Are you okay? You're acting more than a little...strange," I said slowly, looking slowly around at my friends' guilty faces. "Hey, where are you going to get a stuffed panda anyway?"
"We, uh – we were going to get a spell from Professor – er," Angelina replied, her eyes scanning the Great Hall for the first available professor, "Snape! Professor Snape!"
The rest gave her death glares while I tried to make sense of this new information. "You wanted to get a spell to conjure up a stuffed panda from Professor SNAPE."
George suddenly banged down on the table hard with his fist, making all of us jump and look in his direction. His face and ears were bright red – something that only happened when he was nervous or wanted to hide something. "Er, well, we were going to see Snape about it, but we then decided to see...Professor Trelawney!"
"Professor Trelawney?" we all chorused, looking at him in disbelief.
You really had to pity me.
I was surrounded by insane, panda-loving buffoons.
"What I mean is – Professor, uh, Binns. No, wait –"
"Did pandas even exist in Professor Binns' time?" I heard Alicia whisper to Lene, who replied, "I dunno, maybe they were...prehistoric or something. You know, killer pandas that know kung fu."
"You know, we happened to learn a Conjuring Charm during Charms the other day; why didn't you just use that?" I asked the seventh-years of the bunch – Alicia, Angelina and Lene.
They looked at me blankly for a second, each mirroring the expression of the others, and finally jumped up and ran out of the Great Hall, shouting something about needing to get some extra beauty sleep because there was an extra Quidditch practice session tomorrow.
For one thing, Oliver's not even out of the hospital wing yet.
For another thing, Lene isn't even on the Quidditch team.
Hmmm.
Awkward.
A/N : OK, this was a shorter chapter than normal, so sorry! Hope it wasn't too bad, though. For those of you who've figured it out – yes, Katie's 'panda-loving buffoons' were scheming to get Katie and Oliver together (please refer to the end of Chapter Nine if you don't remember Lene and Angelina making Katie's life miserable!). And this is the time when I need to ask you, faithful readers, for help. Here's the deal : there's a competition going on that I really want to win; the first prize is a new set of the five HP books and the nine consolation prizes are the 5th book. Since all my books are so worn out from my constant reading of them, I really need a new set! Basically, I'm supposed to create a new character for the series and describe the character (human or creature, good or evil) in 120 words or less. I'm kind of stuck for ideas (the only thing the boys in my class could come up with were 'Luke Skypotter', 'Harry Potter's evil twin brother', and 'Draco Malfoy's good twin brother'), so I hope you guys will be able to give me a couple of cool ideas! Apparently, the most 'imaginative and arresting' will win – the closing date of entry is June 20, which means I'll need to send my entry in on the 18th or 19th. That doesn't give me much time! Please just tell me what you think or what new character you'd like to see - I might just get inspired! Oh, and yes, my exams finally finished today – but I screwed my very last paper, Math 2. Ugh. Way to begin the end-of-exam celebrations, Lynn. Review, guys!
