A/N: Hey! hello peoples! well, here's the 3rd chapter!
Chapter 3
A Plan with Quidditch Notes
Well, the store manager ended up kicking me out, due to the broken bottle of ink. I also had to pay for it, even though all you need to do was utter a simple repairo and a scourigo to clean it.
Suddenly, mood-changing ink was my best friend. Well, considering I've never had that great of a friend, no less a best friend, that's really not saying a lot. Come to think of it, why don't I have a friend? I mean, seriously, you'd think I'd have one, too. Because of my sarcasm and "humor", you'd think that at least somebody would think I'm okay.
Maybe one of the reasons I don't have one is because practically ever y girl in my dorm is obsessed with guys and are only interested in the latest trends and the guys are pretty much in love with Quidditch, but that's not an entirely bad thing, considering quidditch okay, even though I can't join the team or play it because the only sport that I am good at is Fooz Ball. Really, is that even a sport? I doubt it.
Maybe I am the only sane person in this world left. Or, maybe, it's the other way around and I'm insane not to be obsessed with guys and fashion or quidditch.
Anyhow, I just got terribly off subject. The reason that mood-changing ink is now my best friend is because now I can, when confused by someone's actions, pour a bottle of ink on their head. How pathetic does that sound? I feel like such a loser. Oh yeah, just because that's happened once it's definitely going to happen everyday. Note the sarcasm.
Here I am, in this old, grungy tavern. Even the sign on the door outside that stated with a very gory and bloody image of a slaughtered pig's head with its mouth still clamped over an apple was covered in impossible filth.
Inside the Hog's Head (or so it's called), were three big, round tables in the middle of the room that were covered in crumbs and even some blotches of mold (GROSS!) and there was a small table nestled in cobwebs and dust in the corner (where I am.)
Behind the sidebar sat a man in his late twenties dressed in clothes so filthy and ratty they must've been from a century or two ago. I leaned out of my chair, trying to see if his clothes showed any design and fell out of my chair. The wooden chair against the floor made a clanking sound as it hit. His clothes were so dirty you couldn't even tell what they were.
He sat on a stool, looking around suspiciously (looking at me in particular), and polishing spoons that must've, at one point, been silver, but were now a blackish green. I wondered vaguely if they had been done the toilet at one time.
I guess the only reason I'm here and not at the Three Broomsticks is because was so I could get away from all possible places Potter could be. Yes, it's a bit ridiculous and all, but Potter, because I know he likes me (Ergh…. I still shudder at that) which doesn't reassure me at all, could make a move on me. Ergh! I just, do not want tohappen to bump in on him at any chance possible. Well, if I'm lucky, I've already scared him off with the whole Malfoy analogy thing.
Omigosh, I think that friggon' ugly bartender is checking me out! Oh, eh, ew. Gross…. I feel so disturbed. What is he doing? Merlin, he's walking towards me with a bent spoon (why do they even need spoons in a pub?) in his hand and a wide grin that is completely full of yellow-brown teeth. Disgusting. Gosh, he's still coming. Hastily, I throw a sickle on the filthy table for my equally dirty butterbeer and barrel past the still-grinning bartender to the now-welcoming door.
Sunlight flooded the room for a split-second as I rush through the door. It's still sunny and beautiful, but it seems to have lost it's shine, so to speak, because of Potter and some new revelations. At that, I smirked. Really, I could go on forever.
I started walking towards the Shrieking Shack. Honestly, that place made no sense, even in the Wizarding World. I don't think it's very likely that tons of ghosts and ghouls joined a group together and happened to form a shrieking band. Huh.
You know, it would be really fun (and evil) if I did all the things Potter would find attractive and all that crap. Or, in short, turn him on and reject him. Heh-heh-heh. Seeing that no one's around, I'm going to cackle very manically right now. With that thought, I throw my head backwards and let out a high-pitched Heeh-heeh-heeh!
That felt good. Very, very good.
Now, done with my evil laugh, I skip, frolicking down the lane. What an interesting day. Hmm…
888
That entire week I planned out ideas and thought up things Potter was obsessed with. So far, the list consisted of three things: Quidditch, pranking, and girls. In that order, too.
Deciding to go in order, I checked out Quidditch Through the Ages and Quidditch for Dummies. I also got a year's worth of Quidditch Exclusive, Broomcare, and Quidditch Girls.
Suddenly, I was visiting practice matches and watching the drills and maneuvers they used. I found myself writing out notes and forming out different and better dips and slides that were faster and trickier. But, because I didn't know how to fly, I couldn't try these new ideas out. So, that was when I decided I needed to learn to fly.
After a practice match one night, I confronted Kate Woods (A/N: No relation to either Katie Bell or Oliver Wood.), the keeper for our Gryffindor team. I told her I had a deal to offer.
"Who the hell are you?" was her response.
"Lily Evans, head freak of Hogwarts, thank you very much," was my answer.
"Anyways, listen, if you teach me how to fly, I'll help you dump Amos and get Sirius."
She gasped and looked at me weirdly, "How did you--?" I answered quickly, "Being a wallflower somewhat entitles you to listen to other person's conversations and read people's faces and such."
Woods looked at me blankly, "Right, whatever," she said semi-preppy.
I always knew she was kind of thick. I sighed.
"That means I'm smart," I said slowly and coherently as I she were a two-year old and I was her older sister.
"Well," she said snottily, "How are you gonna get Sirius to date me?"
"Well, it's simple, really…" and so I explained my fool-proof plan (which had a loophole, but she didn't need to know that Black would only date her for the span of seven days.)
"Well, then, let's get started," Woods said rubbing her manicured hands together menacingly.
I spoke a hesitant okay and we made our way to the Quidditch Supply Room, right behind the locker rooms. Old, donated brooms and worn, beaten-up quaffles and bludgers sat in dank corners of the room. Woods walked over to a shelf, grabbed one of the newer brooms and tossed it to me. I caught it reflexively with one hand. Her eyebrows rose.
"Go to your dorm and get some sportier clothes on. You don't want to be ruining your robes with sweat marks. I'll wait for you down on the pitch."
So I went upstairs and got on a tank top and some jean shorts and we soon got to work. We started out with the basics, but it turned out that I was a natural flyer. Which was weird, considering I'm muggle-born.
Begrudgingly, Woods told me that there was soon going to be an open spot for seeker, so I'd better try out. At my confused look, she said, "Anna Toln is transferring to an American Wizarding World high school."
Even though I'd never tried it before, I found that I absolutely loved to fly, I t was fun and exhilarating, it pumped me up. It was nothing like those muggle sports, by far, and much more fun. Funny thing, though, there weren't any cheerleaders. Not that I wsa complaining.
About that seeker position, I think I might try out. Goodness knows what could happen, but, hey, that's what the fun of it was! Wit that thought, I dipped down in a spectacular dive, hurtling towards the ground and pulled up a split-second before reaching it.
A/N: Hello persons! If you have any ideas, 'cuz i'm making this up as i go along and i really need help, for this fic, leave it in a review . REQUEST FOR A BETA! i really need one and if you would like to become my beta, tell me! oh, and, i need help in the plan that lily has for getting sirius to date kate woods.. got any ideas?