A/N: Hey, guys! I'm really sorry that I haven't updated for a while. I don't even know what my excuse is. Oh. I just came back from camp a few days ago. But anyway. You know. Been busy, etc.
And I really haven't been getting very many reviews. Not even a quarter of you are reviewing. Come on, guys. I need to know how I can improve and what you do or don't like about the story. If you really don't want to write a long review, you don't have to. Just please review! Even ideas about what you do or don't want to happen. Anything.
Thanks to my reviewers who actually did review: shadow929, HannahMarieWillow, shayacatalystscifigirl, snuffles101, Siti, IddamSoyt, Book Anaconda in the Rain, sarcastic spastic and scared-of-open-spaces.
November 25th
"He can't be serious about this. He can't be doing this to us!"
I grin at Alicia's dramatics. And they say I'm melodramatic. Sheesh. "It'll be okay, 'Lic," I say soothingly. "It's just a little thing that's supposed to be fun."
"Fun? Fun? This will give me a nervous breakdown!"
Okaaaaaaay then.
"Shut up," Fred tells her from his spot on the couch. "You're such a stress-head."
Whoa. Harsh, Fred. Real harsh.
"No," Alicia snaps back. "I'm not cut out for this. I don't think I can cope!"
"George," I say calmly, "take your girlfriend and go and calm her down."
"Why can't you?" he whines, glancing at her nervously. She's pacing the room and muttering things under her breath.
"Because," I roll my eyes, "she's your girlfriend."
"Technically she's your girlfriend too."
"What are you insinuating Georgie boy?" I ask, trying to sound all smart.
"Uh… nothing." He gives me a strange look then takes Alicia by the elbow and leads her up to his dorm.
"And leave the door open!" I scream up after him. After all, he's only supposed to be calming her.
So do you want to know why Alicia Spinnet is stressing out? I mean, it's not like she NEVER does it or anything.
Okay. Here's what happened:
The six of us (meaning me, Lee, 'Lic, Ange, Fred and George) go down to the Great Hall. Dumbledore's called a meeting for all fifth years. We get in just in time to hear his marvellous little speech. (Haha. I used the word 'marvellous'.)
Dumbledore: Welcome. I am pleased to see that you have all arrived on time. (He looks directly at us). I have made an important change to the fifth year's curriculum. This year, each of you will be undertaking a sort of business, of sorts. Yes, that means you, Mr Weasley. And you, Mr Weasley. It will count for your transfiguration, potions and charms grades.
Me: So we really will need potions when we get out of school then?
Fred: As if. Snape just wants to torture us.
Alicia: I think I'm going to hyperventilate!
Dumbledore: Silence! This task it meant to test your intuitive skills, as well as to determine your ability to handle yourself in unexpected situations. Now, we will be trialing it for this year only, and if all goes well we may introduce it for all future fifth years. You will need to think of something relating to possible career aspects, and you may partner up with another if you wish. Yes, Miss McNamara, you may go with a student from another house.
Stormie: (Looks longingly at Cedric, who determinedly avoids her gaze.)
Dumbledore: Now, if you will all just sign up for your particular interest… (Holds up long, LONG sheet of paper) … that's it. Hurry up, now.
Me: Come on, Lee. Let's go sign up for something.
Lee: What makes you think that I'd want to even go with you? I might have someone else in mind.
Me: (Pushes Lee hard) No you don't. Now get up there and sign that bit of parchment! Or else.
Lee: Ouch!
Then we go up and look at the long bit of parchment. It's pretty boring, really. And we're like last in line, too.
So guess what? There's no good ones left. In fact there's only a) Greenhouse Helpers b) Dungeon Cleaners or c) Pet Minders
Yeah. And guess what Fred and Ange got? Forbidden Forest Walkers. Meaning, they get to take rich wizards who have come from God-knows-where just to see our stupid bit of dark smelly forest into the forest. A bit like tourist guides, I suppose.
And 'Lic and George? Yeah, they weren't as lucky. I guess they were too busy arguing, or something. They get to go in the little row boats and try to find rare ingredients for Snape on those little midget islands in the middle of the lake.
Lee: Which one, do you reckon?
Me: I don't know. It's all your fault. If we got here earlier, then we wouldn't be stuck with these lame ones.
Lee: Nuh uh!
Me: Yeah huh!
Lee: No way.
Me: Yes way.
Lee: No wa- shit!
It turns out that Fred got tired of our arguing and decided to sign us up for something. For Pet Minders. Meaning that I'm going to have to chase that dude's frog round all day. Nerville. I dunno.
Me: Fred! What the hell did you do that for?
Fred: (Grins wickedly) I felt like it.
George: So. Pet minder, hey Lee? Yeah. You look like the type.
Lee: (Highly offended) And you look the type to go around in a row boat all day!
Me: (Rolling eyes) Shut up. Frederick Weasley, I am never talking to you again!
Fred: Yippee!
Me: EVER.
Fred: Awesome!
Me: Did you just say 'awesome'?
Fred: Yeah. So what? By the way, you're talking to me.
Me: I am not.
So that was how Lee and me got roped into being pet minders, of all things. But then today we're about to start. And that's why 'Lic is stressing out so much. I think she reckons she'll fall in the lake or something and ruin her nails.
Okay, okay. So she's a Quidditch player. She ruins her nails every day, practically.
The bell goes, and I give Ange a weary glance as she leaves to go and show all the rich scary wizards around the scary forest. (It's actually the best fun. Me and George and Fred set up a scamming thing like at the end of third year, and we charged people from Hogsmeade to go and look at 'Unicorns' and 'Centaurs' and stuff like that. They were damn good illusion charms if I say so myself, especially since we forced some random seventh year to do it for us, and in exchange Fred and George promised him he could have a free year's supply of joke items when they were famous.)
"Is this the Pet Minders Centre?" A high pitched voice asks behind me.
"Yeah," I reply without looking at them.
"Hey! I know you! You're that girl who screamed really loud in the hospital wing!" they say excitedly.
Beside me, Lee starts snickering.
"I think you're mistaken, young lady," I reply in the most dignified tone I can muster.
"I'm not a girl! I'm a boy!"
"Thatta girl. Never give up," I say reassuringly.
"I'm a boy!" the she-man wails.
"Uh huh. You just keep telling yourself that, buddy."
"I'm a boy!"
"Katie," Lee whispers, still snorting, "I think it's telling the truth."
"Aha! You called it an 'it'. That means you don't know."
"I most certainly did not call it an it," Lee says indignantly. He peers up at the she-man. "Are you sure?"
"Sure what?"
"Sure that you're a boy?"
The she-man starts gulping. Any second now, it will start to cry. "Y- yes."
"What is going on here?" a pompous arse by the name of Percy demands. The she-man runs into his arms and starts sobbing hysterically. The look on Percy's face is priceless. A mix between horror and disgust. He holds it at arm's length. "Well, you, uh, you better run along now," he says unconvincingly. "Er, you better go to class."
"But I wanted to leave Shimmy Kibble with the Pet Minders!"
Um. What. The. Hell? Shimmy Kibble?
"Shimmy Kibble?" Percy repeats sceptically.
"Yeah! My kitty kitty cat!"
… Can you see why we can't tell what it is yet?
"Oh. Well you leave Shimmy Kibble with Miss Bell and Mr Jordan, and I'm sure they'll take good care of him." The prick is saying this with a straight face. Either he really doesn't find it funny or he's a damn good actor. I'm thinking the former.
"Yes," Lee says in between fits of laughter. Seriously. He's practically crying. "We'll take good care of Shimmy Kimmy."
"Shimmy Kibble!"
"Yeah. That."
The she-man beams suddenly at us, the tear-works have stopped. "I'll just go get him."
Lee is practically rolling on the couch with laughter, and even I'm cracking up. Percy, however, looks cross.
"I'm going to be late for potions," he says, frowning at us. "I do wish you could keep your charges on a leash."
"Okaaaaaaay then," I say slowly. Then I lean forward conspiringly. "What do you reckon it is, Percy?"
"What is?"
"You know. The kid." I point up at the stairs.
He looks confused. "Isn't it a girl?"
Lee lets out another annoying bark of laughter. "No!"
"Yes it is," I tell him. "I'm sure of it."
"Yeah, and it's in denial," Lee says sarcastically. "I am so sure."
"Exactly." I nod seriously.
"You are so dumb, Bell."
"Am not, Jordan!"
"Are too!"
"Am not!"
"Children." Percy breaks in, looking distinctly annoyed. "Miss… I'm sorry, I didn't quite catch your name?"
'It' looks up at Percy, lips quivering. "Dennis. Dennis Creevy."
What sort of a parent calls their kid Dennis? Especially for a girl! And what's with the last name? Sounds a bit like that Connie Cretin dude, to be honest. Looks a bit like him, too.
"Well, Denny," I say cheerfully. "We'll take good care of Sausage Kebab. Won't we, Lee?"
"Yeah." Lee nods solemnly. "We'll even let her eat a rat!"
"Oh no. It's a boy," Denny explains seriously. "Shimmy Kibble gets sad if someone calls him a girl."
Oh. My. God. This is one strange kid. The parents shouldn't have even let it out in public! It should be an offence. You know. 'A fine of 100 galleons is to be paid for the release of gender-confused wizarding children upon the general public (the wizarding and muggle communities alike). The capture of these so called 'confused beings' will result in a haircut and a bit of grooming to ensure that they do, in fact, look like their original gender. Or the one that they prefer.'
Yeah. How cool would that be? Kids everywhere would wake up and go, "I feel like becoming a guy today. Mum! I want a haircut!" It would save a lot of trouble trying to find public toilets, let me tell you.
"Yes," Percy says, still not cracking a smile. "Run along now, and your- blimey! What is that thing?"
The thing in question. Well. It is one MONSTROUS feline. Nails about three inches long, spitting enough to fill the prefect's bath in one go and with teeth like my great aunt Hilda.
This is one scary cat. In fact, it's almost as big as I am. I can just see it calculating my height in it's little brain, seeing whether or not it could jump me and bite my neck off before anyone can stop it. I'm willing to bet that it can.
That's another thing. What's with all the freaking huge cats around this place? I mean, yeah, I'm slightly scared of them, so most cats look huge to me. But this is like a radio-active power plant that's gone wrong. These things are GIANTS.
Maybe Hogwarts people were like, "Hey! Let's see how many five feet cats we can get in the place! That'll liven things up!"
Anyway. Back to the problem at hand. Sausage Kebab.
"Just why," Lee wants to know, "did you call that thing Shimmy Kimmy?"
"Shimmy Kibble!" the kid whines. "I thought it suited him."
Oh god, no. This kid is not funny any more. Now it's just like, annoying. It's little whiny voice makes me want to knock it out cold so I don't have to listen to it. Then again, the furry monster in its arms would probably savage me if I did anything to its precious owner.
Percy starts herding Denny out of the room.
"He likes two bowls of munchies every half hour!" Denny called out after us, straining his voice. I seriously hope his voice hasn't broken already. Can you imagine walking around with a voice like that for the rest of your life? Like a cross between a broken violin and nails on a chalkboard. "And he loves being cuddled! And sitting on your head!"
No way am I letting that thing anywhere NEAR my head.
Lee and me sit in a sort of stunned silence for awhile, just staring at the monstrosity that is Sausage Kebab. I really don't think I've ever seen anything quite like I in my entire life. It sort of resembles Mrs Crevasse next door, but even uglier. And taller.
"Well," Lee says finally. "At least we have something to talk about."
"Are you kidding me?" I ask incredulously. "Fred and Ange get to lead old fuddy duddies around the scary forest that's filled with escaped convicts, 'Lic and George get to row little boats around the lake to strange midget islands and all we get to do is look after a freaking cat!"
"And Trevor. The toad."
"And Trevor," I agree.
Seriously. You'd think that our fellow Gryffindors don't trust us or something! Sheesh. A frog and a cat.
"I know," I say. "Let's take them on a little outing."
"To where, though?"
I shrug. I haven't thought that far.
"Why don't we take them to the kitchens?" Lee suggests.
I can swear Sausage Kebab perks up at the mention of 'kitchens'. I think Denny has been taking him along to late-night snacks or something.
"Alright." It's not like we have anything better to do.
But then Lee picks up Trevor, leaving me staring at the cat.
"Well?" he smirks at me. "Hurry up."
I eye the cat. I feel like the duellers from a hundred years ago, where they circle around each other and then suddenly bam! One of them falls to the ground and it's all over.
That's how I feel when the cat leaps for my head.
One moment it's sitting there, eyeing me, and then the next it's attacking the pom poms on my hair elastic and going spastic.
"Get it off me! Get it off me!" I scream as loudly as possible. Which for me, practically means the entire castle can hear it.
Lee drops Trevor and then almost steps on him as he picks up the closest thing to him- which, I might add, is Hermione's big book- and moves to wack the cat with it.
"No!" I yell. "Please no!"
After all, there's a reason he didn't get on the Quidditch team.
"I'm not touching it!" he shouts back.
And that poses a bit of a problem. I'm freaking out so much that if Lee does try and hit the cat with the book, he'll most likely get my head even though the cat weighs about fifty pounds. And to top it all off, while we're busy arguing about how he should knock the damn thing out, it's busy clawing my head and chewing my pom poms.
"YOU HAVE TO!"
"NO!"
"GET THE DAMN BLOODY CAT OFF MY DAMN HEAD!"
"Okay." And with that, Lee braces himself, turns one hundred and eighty degrees around and swings the book above my head with all his might.
Do you remember how I said there was a reason that Lee didn't get on the Quidditch team? Yeah, well, it was a good one.
Lee gets the cat off my head, alright- but in doing so, swings the corner of the book into my scalp.
And it's the hardback edition.
Damn Hermione.
Why can't she get her bloody books soft?
Anyway. It hurt. A lot.
"Lee! You idiot! Can't you do anything right?"
"Um. Sorry?" he offers. At least he looks guilty.
"OUCH!"
This one time when I went to muggle school, I fell off the roof. (I was trying to prove to the kids that I could, in fact, fly.) Anyway, the school people called the muggle healers and they gave me this drug. Morphine. I still remember because it was like taking a cheering drought. I blurted out all these things that I really probably shouldn't have, and to cut a long story short the Oblivion people at the Ministry had to be called out.
The point is, I really want some.
"I think we should go to Pomfry," Lee says at last.
Yeah, good one genius! Rule number one when you hit your girlfriend on the head with a gigantic book: take her to the hospital wing before she passes out.
So Lee slings one of my arms around his shoulders, right, but because he's so much taller it doesn't really work. It's more like he's carrying me.
And then he staggers out of the common room (and I can't actually touch the ground). But when we get to the top of the stairs, my toe must touch the ground or something because he trips.
But the stupid idiot doesn't let go of me. Oh, no. Instead we just fall down flight after flight. And it's just our luck that all the stairs 'miraculously' change, so the stairs we go down are consecutive. We don't even have to wait for the next ones.
By this time, I'm so out of it, it's not funny. I'm babbling things that are so irrelevant it's just SCARY.
"… I don't want to… no… I don't want to eat green eggs and ham…"
Can you see what I mean?
Lee is being really sweet (well, for him) and is being all concerned and trying to be all macho. You know. "We're almost there, Katie. It'll be okay. You'll be better in no time. I'm really sorry, Bell." That kind of stuff.
And then we get to the Hospital Wing, and Madame Pomfry doesn't even hurry. She sort of just saunters over, then she's all, "back again, I see? And Mr Jordan is with you, too. What's wrong? Oh? Yes, it does look nasty… Just a little dose of this…"
Guess what? The stuff she gives me? Yeah, it's even better than morphine. It makes me practically comatose.
Which is the only reason I can explain what I say next.
"Lee… I hate you. Let's break up."
I'm sorry! I'm sorry! Actually, I've been really stuck this chapter. I think I've rewritten it three times and I STILL don't like it. Oh well. If you would be so kind as to push the little blue button on the way out... ;D