A/N: I'm updating:D
January 23rd
You know what I hate about my house? We're supposed to be really brave, loyal and true, but who really gives a crap about those qualities? The most important thing is that apparently, Gryffindors can't play Quidditch to save themselves.
No, I'm not talking about the actual team. We're all pretty good, if I say so myself. But all the other people- civilians, non-important people, if you like- can't play at all. Seriously, they suck. Not even remotely good.
I feel sorry for Harry, because he'll be the Quidditch Captain when we leave, and then he'll be the only member left of 'Team Wood'. Although at the moment, it's 'Team Bell'- a name that everyone except Angelina has whole-heartedly embraced. Fred and George even made a banner for Ron to hold up at the match later today.
In the past three days, I've discovered a new found appreciation for Oliver Wood and his role as Captain. Of course, that appreciation doesn't extend to his cleaning skills- the Captain's office, which is little more than a broom closet devoid of brooms, was disgusting. I don't think it's been cleaned in the three years he's been Captain. In fact, I don't think it's been cleaned since the minute Charlie Weasley stepped foot out of that door (although it's doubtful Charlie cleaned it, either… He was never what you might call a 'neat freak').
Still, I never thought it was actually hard being Captain. In fact, it always sounded kind of cool, because you get to boss everyone around and kick them off the team (as Oliver has shown me many times). Apparently, though, it's actually bad sportsmanship to kick your team member off the team unless you have a good reason.
Yeah. Hear that, Oliver? You are an advocator of bad sportsmanship! I seriously considered going to McGonagall about that, then decided it wasn't worth it. After all, I'm always back on the team before a game, and if it means that I get to miss a few dawn practices, I'm all for it. Of course, I guess it'd be totally acceptable if Oliver kicks me off the team as soon as he wakes up, which is why I went to the liberty of cleaning his office for him.
That's right. His entire office, all one and a half square metres of it. (Told you it was small.) But for small a broom-like-closet-that-doesn't-contain-brooms, it was one hell of a mess. I did ask for Alicia's help, though. She took one look at it and ran away crying… I guess it does stuff to her self esteem to know that there are still people out there who don't require the same level of cleanliness as she does, or something.
Anyway, it took me all of yesterday and the day before that. During that time I encountered: many, many empty bottles of ink, most of which had unidentifiable substances on them; sweaty socks; most of Oliver's wardrobe, which really just confirmed my suspicion that he has no life and lives in his little dingy office; and plays. Tens upon tens of plays, most of which were the same with tiny little differences, such as Alicia being the main person instead of Ange, or tilting the broom at a different angle. You know. Nit-pick stuff.
He's worse than Lee's parents. Ha, I bet they're regretting being mean to me now that I've been named Captain. Or, rather Lee's mum. His dad didn't really say much… Obviously Lee didn't inherit his 'strong, silent type' personality.
"I'm sorry," Fred says to a scrawny blonde kid in a tone that says he's really not sorry, "we'll post the results up later this afternoon, but I can't guarantee anything…" At least Fred's making an effort to be nice to him, I suppose. I probably would have just gone, "Hey, kid, you're crap. Don't come back."
A lot of the potential Keepers just keep coming back… and back… and back. It's like they don't know the meaning of the phrase, "Mate... You're crap at Quidditch." Well, that was what Lee told one kid, but then I told him off for being mean to his fellow housemates (I have to assert my authority, after all) and so now he's commentating on the ones in the air.
"No! I'm good, really I am!" Scrawny takes on a desperate look. "Let me speak to your Captain!" He begs, not noticing Fred's alarmed look.
"Well, the thing is… Our Captain has life-threatening head injuries," he blurts out suddenly. He fixes a stern gaze on the kid, who even has the decency to look ashamed. "And you wouldn't want to cause the Gryffindor Captain's death, would you?" He says, shaking his head. "Puddlemere would have your head."
"Isn't… Isn't that the Captain?" The small kid asks hesitantly, pointing at Ange. "I mean, I always kind of figured the best player would be the reserve Captain."
Hmm. Not good- if Ange hears, she might just go over and convince the kid that yes, she is the Captain and that he can be the Keeper, just to undermine my authority! "Hel-lo!" I chime enthusiastically, going over to save Fred. "I'm actually the Captain, on Oliver Wood's request." Well, it's only a little white lie.
"You?" The kid's tone is incredulous. "Why on earth would he make you the Captain?" He looks me up and down with an expression of disgust.
Oooh. That was harsh. "Why wouldn't he?" I ask icily, trying to restrain myself from punching the kid in the face. Relax, Katie. Remember what the counsellor said about your anger management issues?
Fred notices my clenched fists and he gives the kid a worried look, who ignores it completely and takes a step closer. "It's not like you're even that good at Quidditch," he says with a flick of his hair. Seriously- the kid flicked his hair!
"I don't see you on the team."
"Because Wood is an idiot and couldn't see my potential," he replies coolly. "Also, he said that the team was full and the only position that would open anytime soon was Katie Bell's, and that's you, isn't it?"
Even the Slytherins know my name! The stinky, slimy snakes know my name and my own house member does not! I mean, granted, they do call me 'That Gryffindork Bell', but at least they know my last name! I suppose that's why I kind of… Let loose.
With a temper as delicate as mine, insulting me (or failing to memorise my name) is like willingly going into a hungry, hungry hippogriff's den and expecting to come out with more than one severed limb. It's just one of those things you only do if your Quidditch team has come last for the season.
"Yes, you filthy little mu-"
"Oh my God!" The kid is yelling and backing away from me before I can even complete my sentence. "She's one of them!" He stage whispers to the ever-increasing crowd of spectators, who look particularly intrigued with the way he dramatically announces my 'affinity'. To what, I don't know.
"One of what?" A kid finally pipes up, when it becomes apparent that Scrawny Kid isn't going to continue for this year, at least.
"Them. You know, a-" here he pauses and looks around the group, wide-eyed, "one of those muggle-born haters."
There's a shocked silence, which is very quickly broken by Fred's derisive snort. "Yeah, right. Katie's about as much a Death Eater as I am," he comments scornfully. "Go back to your imaginary ponies," he dismisses the kid with a wave of his hand and looks around him to the next one.
"Did you hear what she called me?" Scrawny asks pompously. "No, you didn't. She called me a dirty little mu-something."
The shocked faces turn to look at me. I glare at the ground stubbornly and scuff the grass with my foot. "I said filthy," I mutter darkly.
All voices start talking at once. "Katie Bell!"
"Her family donates tons of money to St Mungos…"
"…Wonder why, if they're all opposed to muggle-borns…"
Wait. What? "What?" I blurt out. "What are you talking about?"
Fred looks at me carefully. "Runty over here thinks that you called him a… you know…"
"No…" Forgive me if I'm a bit slow, but remember I have official duties now. I have to be thinking about the team twenty four hours a day until after the match in order to achieve a good result. At least, according to Oliver psychology, and if it works for Oliver then it'll work for me. At least, I hope it will… Otherwise I'll be getting blue and gold tomatoes thrown at me at dinner tonight.
He looks around and then pulls me close and whispers it in my ear, but just as he finishes it, a cry of indignation marks the start of yet another mini-Katie-crisis. That's my new word for the day… I suspect it'll be used a lot…
"Fred? Katie?" Lee Jordan has finally stopped commenting the Quidditch and is now commenting on why Fred happens to be so close to my face.
"Uh, yeah…" I laugh weakly and ignore Lee. "Let me get this straight: I was going to say filthy little mud-splashed runt! Because that's what you are, you filthy little mud-splashed runt! I deserve to be on this team because unlike you, I can actually play Quidditch! And if that's how you get your kicks, by insulting fellow house-members, then you do not deserve to be a Gryffindor! Because that's not what Gryffindor is about! We're about loyalty, bravery and Quidditch! That's why we'll be brave when we go into battle with the Ravenclaws for Quidditch, and it's why you'll all be right there in the stands, cheering us on!"
The effect is gob smacking. Everyone stops bickering and yelling rude comments at me, and they all start cheering like crazy and a couple of the younger boys even start growling like lions. I don't know why- it's a bit alarming as one tries to bite the other's arm- but at least they're showing support for their house. Even if it is in their own way, I suppose…
Fred and George whistle and start singing a song that they invented themselves which basically just bags all the other houses, and I'm not sure it's very school-spirit-y. But oh well, everyone else is enjoying it…
Except Lee. He's surveying the premature winner's party with a frown on his face, and when I step forward to ask him if he liked my impromptu speech, (I could seriously be one of those con artists that go around and convince people to give up their life savings, although I doubt it's legal, which is a bit of a bummer.) but he turns abruptly and walks away when he sees me coming. Weird.
Oh well. If Lee has some problem, then he can discuss it with me after the game. I mean, don't get me wrong, or anything, of course I care. It's just that I'll be in a more caring mood after we've won the Quidditch match tonight.
As long as he gets over his little snitch with the Gryffindors before the game. After all, it wouldn't exactly show team spirit if he suddenly started going, "Bell, what a pathetic pass! You're as bad as the Slytherins!"
Although you never know, the Slytherins might consider it a compliment…
"Oh-God-oh-God-oh-God-oh-God-"
"Merlin, Katie! Can't you find a better curse? Or at least one you believe in?" Alicia asks irritably, rolling her eyes as she watches me pace back and forth in the change rooms. It's not long before our team is about to be called in, and we still don't have a Keeper.
"It's become a figure of speech!" I protest. Then, on a sudden whim, I grab a chair and climb up unsteadily on it. I don't know what came over me… But maybe I'll suddenly come up with an even better inspiring speech than the one at practice. "Okay, team meeting!"
"Yeah, give us another speech," George snickers and elbows Fred.
I ignore them and concentrate mostly on Harry because a) it's what Oliver used to do, and b) he seems to be the only one inclined to listen. "We don't really have a plan, guys, so sorry about that. I have a list of excuses, starting with…" I actually did write out a list on a scrap of parchment, and I pull it out of my pocket and read off it, hoping as I do that it's the right one.
"I've discovered that it's actually hard to have a life and be Quidditch Captain. Merlin only knows how Oliver manages it."
"That's because Oliver doesn't have a life," Fred points out, a fact on which we unanimously agree on.
"What makes you think Katie does, either?" Angelina mutters, but no one else hears her and I choose to ignore her. Next time I see Doctor Spencer, I am so bragging about how far I've come since my days of pulling out Hannah Abbot's hair because she stole my favourite chocolate frog card.
"So yeah. Also, I had to clean Oliver's entire office because now he'll actually feel guilty about kicking me off the team when he wakes up from his coma- which, by the way, I've been told has been down-graded to non-life-threatening, so that's good.
"You guys would seriously not believe how disgusting it was. I seriously think there was unidentified bacteria that had mutated to the size of my hand, and it had probably all grown off the numerous sweaty socks that I found in there. I've come to the conclusion that Oliver Wood is a disgusting pig and will be lucky to ever get a girl. In fact, he'd be lucky to get a guy, because no one would ever want him!" I end this rant with a sweep of my hands and a big smile, except no one is looking at me any more… They're looking directly over my shoulder. Oh, shit.
"He's right behind me, isn't he?" I ask tiredly. Now he'll definitely kick me off the team, even though I cleaned his office.
"Bell!" Wood barks like the commanding officer he thinks he is. "We-"
"And now, the Gryffindor team!" Lee's voice is our cue to step outside, and for a moment I think that Oliver won't let us go outside, but he nods tightly to George, who opens up the door and strides proudly out.
I'm just about to walk after Alicia, when Oliver's arm pulls me back. "This is not over, Bell," he hisses. Just as I'm about to call for security- not that we're so privileged that we get body-guards, I just want to see if any actually come running to my aid- he lets me go and pushes me so hard that I stumble and almost fall flat on my face in front of the entire Hogwarts population and all the business people. Just why they'd want to come to a children's Quidditch game, (even though Oliver takes pride in the team, that's really all it is- a children's Quidditch league) I don't know.
"And it looks like Bell is having a hard time staying upright!" Lee's voice calls from the commentators' box. As soon as he starts talking to me, I am going to kill him. At least it answers my earlier question- he definitely is going to be treating me like the Slytherins.
And guess what? I don't even get to play Captain and shake Roger Davies' hand! They're not even letting me shake Roger Davies' hand! I mean, yeah, I have a boyfriend (at this exact moment, I'm not sure… but I did a few hours ago, anyway) but Roger Davies is like a non-dictator version of Oliver. And yeah, Oliver pisses me off no end, but I will give him this: he's hot. Except you only have to talk to him for like thirty seconds and you instantly get turned off. Davies, on the other hand, actually has a brain. Well, enough of one to get sorted into Ravenclaw, anyway.
So with all this in mind, you'd think they'd at least give me the opportunity to shake his hand, but nooooo. Instead, Madam Hooch is all, "Well, if Wood's back then he's the Captain, not you, Bell!"
… Not that I protest her decision or anything. Then Lee might get jealous and say something and before we know it, he'll be in court facing the Wizamagot on charges of verbal harassment (Roger's dad is some sort of upper-class prominent ministry figure. Bit shady, if you ask me).
Oliver raises an eyebrow at me (even in his blind rage about me taking over the position when I was the one who hit him in the head with a Bludger in the first place, I don't think he expected me to be so eager about being Captain. Well, what does he expect? I've experienced all the crap parts of the job, now I want the perks!) and steps up to shake Davies' hand.
They don't even say anything, just nod stiffly to the other and eye them up and down like wolves sizing up their opponent and deciding whether to go in for the kill.
Madam Hooch blows her whistle, and suddenly everyone's up in the air, looking for their various balls. I mean the Quaffle, Bludgers and the Snitch… Although that Ravenclaw player was looking a bit suss…
It takes me a moment to realise that everyone else has left the ground, and Lee doesn't miss the opportunity to make a cutting remark. Prick- what did I ever do to him? It's so annoying having a boyfriend who's the school commentator. Then when you fight (although technically it's kind of a one sided fight, but whatever) he can bitch about you in front of the whole damn school!
But what can I do? Throw a Quaffle at his head? Big deal, because he's sitting comfortably inside a cozy little room with a heating charm and behind Bludger proof windows!
This is so unfair. I'm going to play horribly the entire game because I'm so busy wondering why Lee's mad at me and how to get revenge, and so Oliver will yell at me because I let the team down. (Ha, like we're going to win, anyway.) And then when Oliver's finished yelling at me, Lee will come up and yell at me for whatever it was that I did. And then when Lee's finished yelling at me, so will all my friends because we'll be out of the running for the Quidditch Cup and because of whatever it was that I did to Lee.
Sigh. Life is so hard when your team-mates are also your best friends. It's even harder when your boyfriend is also your best friends' best friend.
First thing I'm doing after I escape from all the yelling? I am so finding a new group of friends.
"Katie- Quaffle!" Alicia screams as the brown ball comes whizzing towards me at a hundred miles an hour. I'm just about to reach out for it when a Ravenclaw that looks suspiciously like- well, the enemy- grabs it straight out from under my nose and shoots off in the direction of their goals.
I don't know why I even bother. After all, we're going to lose anyway and I'll never get it back from whoever it was that bloody stole the Quaffle, and even if I do I'll probably manage to chuck it to yet another Ravenclaw. I tell you, they're as abundant as flies- they're everywhere.
Although I have to admit, we have an even number of players on the pitch… There just seems to be more of them, that's all. Maybe it's their uniform- I think it's designed to be misleading and cause you to go, "Weren't you just over there? No, over there? Wait, how can you be over there as well?" First thing I do after all the yelling finishes and I find a new group of friends? I am so getting McGonagall to update our uniforms.
"Oh no you freaking well don't!" I yell after him, not caring if the entire school hears me swearing. Although it might be a bit of a problem if either McGonagall or Dumbledore do… Or Madam Hooch, because she'll accuse me of bad sportsmanship (I should know, I only read the entire book of rules I found in Oliver's office). Or even if the business people hear, because then they might decide to kick me out of the school…
I lean low on my broom, so that it'll go as fast as it can. Poor broom- I've had it since second year; everyone keeps telling me to get a better, newer one, but I'm kind of attached to it. I've even named it, so that it can have an identity so that Angelina and Alicia won't throw it out when I'm not looking. She's called Betsy, because I decided it might be a bit weird if I spent seventeen hours a week or more sitting on a broom named Bob.
The wind causes my eyes to tear so I can't really see much, but pretty soon I see a blue blob that could or could not be a Ravenclaw Quidditch player, so I decide to go tackle it just for kicks. I mean, er, I'm going to 'gently retrieve' the Quaffle for 'game purposes'.
Anyway, it turns out pretty good, because the blue blob- it turns out to be Alicia, who had managed to get the Quaffle… don't know why I thought she was blue… I think the eye dude only gave me twenty-twenty vision because I said I'd kick him in the shins if he didn't- gladly relinquishes the Quaffle after a few discreetly placed elbows in the side.
Look, don't get the wrong idea, or anything. I'm a good sport, really. I enjoy the game and respect the rules. But I figure with my luck, I'll be bound to get fouled off for something I haven't even done, so I might as well break the rules so they at least have a reason to kick me off the pitch. It might be twisted logic, but hey, it's my logic.
Surprisingly, all the real blue blobs don't even come near me as I flash up the field in search of the goals. I even have time to adjust the angle of my shot and everything. In fact, I take so long in perfecting it, somebody- I think Roger Davies, actually- calls out, "Just bloody well get the goal already!"
So I do. Get the goal, I mean. It goes in perfectly- right through the middle of the middle hoop and everything. It's so perfect, in fact, that the stupid Ravenclaw Keeper doesn't even bother lifting an arm to block it. He just watches it sail through the hoop and then watch the ten points pop up on our side of the scoreboard, next to Ravenclaw's nothing.
"And Katie Bell has got the first goal of the match!" Lee yells, admittedly not all that enthusiastically. "It was a bit of a wobbly shot, Katie, what's got your knickers in a knot? Honestly, Professor, I wasn't making crass remarks about the player's underwear… Katie has a very nice choice in underwear, actually, I should know… No, Professor, I was only kidding-"
Bastard. It's only because Jess told him one time that my secret chocolate stash was in my underwear drawer, and Lee couldn't help himself. I still don't know what the exact purpose of that prank was, actually. I do know that all my chocolate was gone, and it was all Lee's fault.
Now he's doubly getting it when I see him next… Just you wait, Lee Jordan. You will wish you've never been born!
I don't know how he managed it, but he has. Oliver totally managed to find me before I could sneak away and scream at Lee until I get blue in the face.
"Who in their right mind would have made you Captain?" He asks, half to himself.
"Um, you did, Ollie," I point out, resisting the urge to smack him in the head and brain damage him even more. Speaking of that, I wonder how he got out of the Hospital Wing, anyway? I thought he was still in a coma, and there's no way Madam Pomfry would have let him go. "How'd you get past Pomfry?" I ask curiously, before I can stop myself. "She's a bit-"
"That's not the point!" Oliver bursts out exasperatedly. "You know you're not good enough to be Captain-"
I wince. It hurts a bit- well, if I'm honest, it hurts a lot, especially hearing it from your Captain. "Gee, thanks, Ol. Way to boost my self esteem."
"-You're not nearly dedicated enough, and the others respect you too much-"
Wait. "What?"
Oliver stops midway through his little rant and blinks at me. "They look up to you, Bell," he explains patiently, the way you would to a two-year-old. "You're like the ring-leader. If you do something, they'll do it too and you're pretty reckless when it comes to Quidditch. You could have caused some serious accidents!"
This is new. Wait- he can't be right. Fred and George are the ones everyone follows, and everyone listens to Alicia because she's the smart, sensible one. Lee's the one that makes the plans even crazier and adds in all the sarcastic comments that Angelina takes seriously because she's got a pretty much one-track mind and thinks about Quidditch even in her sleep. And I'm… I'm just… Katie who goes along with it, really. "That's… You're insane," is all I can think of to say.
He shakes his head seriously. "No, I'm not. You might think that the Weasleys are the ring-leaders, but they're more like… They're more like the public faces," he says, looking down at me to see if I get it. I don't. "You're like a mix of everything," he elaborates, frowning as he sees that I still don't understand.
"You're making me sound like a Mary Sue," I grumble. "Next thing you know you'll be saying I'm magic and that fairies are real!"
"You are and they are," Oliver cracks a grin for the first time throughout the entire conversation.
"Thanks for that," I smirk. I can't even begin to work out what Oliver's trying to say. I guess he's not very good at explaining things because all he ever really thinks about is Quidditch, but at least he's trying. Which is more than I can say for Lee.
… Speaking of Lee, here he comes. And in a very, very bad mood.
"I need to speak to you," he demands, completely ignoring Oliver.
"As you can see, I'm kind of busy," I shrug, gesturing towards Oliver who is looking confused at our frosty greetings.
"I need to speak with you," he repeats, then gives Oliver a very heated look. "Alone."
Oliver backs away slowly. "Sure," he says agreeably. "I'll just… go now…" He backs out of the change rooms and quickly exits the building.
There's a silence for a while, broken only by the sound of Oliver's retreating footsteps, when all of a sudden Lee bursts out with something I think he's wanted to say since this morning. "How can you be cheating on me with my best mate, Katie?"
I blink in shock, at both his angry-yet-heart-broken tone, and at the fact that he actually thinks Fred and I are up to something behind his back. "Wha- what?" I seem to be saying that a lot, today. I'm sure it makes me sound really stupid and annoying, but I can't help it. It's kind of been a day of accusations and revelations.
"I saw you this morning!" Lee's shouting now. "How long have you been seeing him behind my back?" He turns around and punches a wall, and I'm seriously shocked at the fact that Lee genuinely believes I'm cheating on him! "How long?"
"What are you talking about, you prick?" It's my turn for insults and screaming. "We're supposed to be your best friends! Why would we do something like that?"
"I don't know!" Lee retorts, his face contorting in anger. "Why would you?"
"I- I can't believe this!" I'm laughing, now. Kind of a disbelieving laugh, and it sounds creepy, even to my ears. "Fred… and me? Fred and me? How can you even think I'd do that to you? And Angelina? She's my best friend! Don't even get me start-"
"Angelina's noticed it, too." His voice is eerily quiet, now. It takes me a moment to hear it, I'm so angry. "Why do you think she hasn't been talking to you?"
"I-" I slump down on the seats. I've been wrong in presuming what Angelina's mad about- sure, she probably is miffed about the Captain thing, but there's only three things Angelina Johnson is passionate about: Quidditch; Fred Weasley and her friends. And she thinks that I've taken them all from her. No wonder she's so mad at me.
But still… Fred and me? Why would they even think that? I saw you this morning. When Fred was whispering in my ear. If that had been Alicia, nobody would blink an eyelid, and I say as much to Lee.
"But it wasn't, was it, Katie? It's been going on for ages, and not just with Fred- although he's probably the worst of it- it's George, and Oliver, and even that ponce, Aaron Abbot-"
"What the hell?" I shriek. "What's gotten into you? You never used to be like this! Why are you so- so controlling all of a sudden? They're my friends, and even if you don't know the concept-"
"Would you like it if Alicia or Angelina or even Stormie were whispering in my ear every other second?" Lee interrupts. Bastard. Fancy bringing Stormie into it- I can't believe he's still on speaking terms with her. She's nothing more than a try-hard.
"How dare you-"
"That's not the point, Katie. You wouldn't like it. Maybe you'd even accuse me of cheating on you with Stormie. It's fine for you to do it, but not for me?"
"I wouldn't accuse you of cheating on me with our best friends though, would I?" I yell at him. "You're in the wrong here, Lee, not me. I am not cheating on you and I never would! Fred and I are best friends, nothing more! Just like you and Ange, or you and Alicia."
Lee's face softens when he hears me say it out loud, and I can see him doubt his own reasoning. "You're… You're sure?"
"Of course I'm bloody sure! If I ever decide to get into small broom closets conveniently devoid of brooms with other guys, you'll be the first person I'll tell," I snap at him angrily. I can't believe he even had the gall to accuse me of cheating on him with Fred, of all people.
"Oh. Well… That's okay, then." He plops down beside me and looks at me hesitantly. "So… are we okay, then?"
I gape at him. I can't believe the prick just thought he could accuse me of that and then think everything is okay! "No, we are not okay, you bastard!" I stand up and point a finger at him. "How can you say all that and just think we can go back to normal! How can you even think-" I break off, shaking my head. "In fact, we are so not okay it's not even funny."
"What?"
"We are over, Lee Jordan."
A/N: Yeah, so this was pretty much a Katie-feels-sorry-for-herself chapter. Haha, bet you weren't expecting the last line, were you? Huh? Huh?
Sorry if I made Lee a bit of a prick in this chapter. But even the infamous Lee Jordan has to have insecurities some time. But anyway, you could always review and let me know what you think... please?
Please forgive me for spelling and grammar mistakes. It's midnight. Give me some credit. :D