A/N: Sorry this took me so long to update. I've been having an unbelievable case of Writer's Block, and the teachers all seem to think it'll be fun if they dump a ton of homework on us…
Also, I have come to the conclusion that this isn't going to be finished by the end of the year, lol. Which means I have allllllllll of next year to complete it. Yay! Hahaha. Anyways, read and review!
February 2nd "Why is McGonagall being so… generous?" Fred asks suddenly, wrinkling his nose at the thought of McGonagall actually being nice. God, anyone would think from his reaction that she was never nice and kind and warm.
Well, she's not, but still. Why is he even questioning it? Hey, if being generous suddenly floats her boat, I'm certainly not going to complain.
Alicia raises her eyebrows at him. "It's not right…" She murmurs, looking thoughtful. She turns back to the fire sullenly. Hmm, strange. Alicia's not usually the brooding type… She's just, you know, smart and sensible and only has one type of behaviour.
As opposed to me, seeing as how I can be on a massive high and then go through a period where I don't emerge from my room for two days because of a certain person (no names, Lee).
Look, I can't help it if I am highly sensitive, okay? Alicia reckons that I have a 'hostile and emotionless exterior' (way to make me feel better, Leesh) but that deep down I'm 'vulnerable, confused and scared easily'.
Scared of what, exactly? Being rejected? Um, unless you've forgotten, 'Lic, I was the rejector. I should be feeling no pain at all, and especially no guilt, seeing as how he accused me of cheating on him with Fred.
Um, ewwww. That'd be like, I don't know, making out with Chris, or something. It's just…
Ewwww.
But whatever. It's not like I care, or anything. He is so totally on the frozen tundra of my little friendship circle. In fact, he's not even on the frozen tundra- he's already fallen into the Antarctic Ocean.
Yeah. Ange is between the not-quite-barren field and the kind-of-icy coast, if you know what I mean. I mean, I've forgiven her to her face but that doesn't mean I forgive forgive her. It's only been like a week and a half- she still has another… Oh, I'd say at least another half a week before I completely forget about whatever-it-was she did.
I've forgotten already, although she doesn't know that. I just want to see how much longer she'll keep bringing me chocolate mud cake from the kitchen to 'drown my sorrows' with. And make Oliver mad when he sees my overwhelmingly wobbly stomach, but hey.
It's my mother's fault that I have a snail-like metabolism, okay? If my metabolism was in a race, then it would go so slow all the other metabolisms would finish, come back the next year and beat it whilst it was still on last year's lap!
The only unfortunate thing is that I'm not amazingly desirable and wanted. I mean, I think that might have something to do with my flabby stomach, sunken eyes and the chocolate mud cake permanently attached to my mouth, but whatever. Just because I'm not pretty or skinny like Stormie McNamara, or Cho Chang.
Damn Stormie McNamara.
And Cho Chang.
And Cho Chang's friend, the one with the bushy carrot-hair.
She threw a tomato at me during last week's dawn practice.
It hurt.
I mean, who would even get up at four in the morning just to throw a tomato at someone? Even I wouldn't do that.
Unless Lee was with me so I wouldn't fall asleep.
But anyway. That's beside the point. No guy has come up and randomly kissed me so that Lee will get jealous and realise what a freaking idiot he is to have dumped me. I mean, even though I dumped him. Still, the only person who's kissed me in the last week was Norman Norbody, because we had to do this play in Muggle Studies where both of the characters fall in love and then die.
I wouldn't actually know what happens; I didn't read it because I was up until three in the morning attempting to prank a couple of Slytherins with George because Fred was nowhere to be found. I found out later that he was holed up in a broom closet with Ange, because apparently they had merely stepped inside to 'check the condition of the brooms' when Filch unwittingly locked the door.
Well, he told McGonagall it was accidental- personally I think he was just waiting for Mrs Norris to run up and tell him through a series of incomprehensible meows that there were two students doing the dirty in a closet.
Anyway. In this stupid play that we doing because we were studying the writings of a muggle, I was the female lead (some Ravenclaw nominated me because apparently I am an 'extrovert') and Norman Norbody ended up being the male lead because Cedric Diggory politely declined. He said he would rather play Jane's (I think that's the female character, I'm not sure) mother.
What did I tell you? He's just plain queer. In both meanings of the word.
And Professor Jervois didn't want us doing anything too unruly, because he said he didn't want to get sued by parents for encouraging their children to participate in frivolous activities. Because of that, our play ended up just being 'subtle glances at the other love interest' (although I swear Norman Norbody was fully gawking at me) and then a kiss just before I stab Norbody's heart out.
It's fun, really, because I just imagine that I'm stabbing Lee. I did that at our last practice, and Cedric was all, "Gee, Katie, do you really think it's supposed to be so… realistic? I mean, Norman's bleeding, you know."
Pssh. He was fine. Madame Pomfry fixed him right up. I always knew that woman would come in handy eventually.
Anyway. Our play's due today- we have to perform it in front of our whole class, plus the rest of the fifth year. Alicia's the only one bummed about that, because she said she'd rather translate an entire sheet of ancient runes than watch me make out with some random and then have Lee cause a scene.
Ha. As if he will. Norbody, I mean. As if he'll make out with me- he's got no spine. If he had one ounce of courage, he would fully make out with me on stage in front of about fifty people. But does he? No.
Not that I want him to. I mean, ew. Just, it'd be nice to cause a bit of a stir amongst the student population of Hogwarts. And the teachers, I suppose, because they're going to be there, too, and Professor Jervois doesn't want us making out with anyone because he'd promised Dumbledore we wouldn't.
And okay, yeah, I'd like to rub it in Lee's face as well. Even though Alicia was all, "Katie, you can't possibly be that cruel to the poor boy! You practically ripped out his heart and tore it to shreds!" I just gave her a withering look before asking whose side she was on. She replied that yes, she was on mine, of course.
She might have been… persuaded by the fact that I had her precious ancient runes textbook dangling out of the window, as opposed to, say, a framed photo of George and her cuddling.
God, that girl really needs to get her priorities straightened out.
The reason that Fred and Alicia are currently so shocked, though, is because I gave Professor McGonagall my sweetest smile and went, "Professor? Is it possible that I can borrow that pointy hat? I have a play to do, for muggle studies, because I can't even begin to emphasise how important it is that muggles and magical people get along, and our play is-"
"Of course," McGonagall interrupted with a tight smile. I think she might have been trying to get me to shut up, and that she had no real intention of giving me the hat.
So about ten minutes ago I went to her office to ask if I could borrow the hat, because the play is today and everything, and I also managed to con her into giving me an old-fashioned pair of high heels (she swore she'd never worn them, which is the only reason I took them in the end) and a spell to amplify Norbody's voice.
Professor Jervois wants us to use our natural voices, but still let the audience be able to hear us. Naturally, it's not a problem for me to use my natural voice. (Haha, I just made a pun!) It is, however, a problem for Norman Norbody.
I don't mean to be rude, or anything, but the dude sounds like a mouse! Looks like one too, now that I come to think of it. Anyway, no one would ever be able to hear him, and so we'd get a crappy mark. For some reason or other, Jervois has decided that the play is worth seventy five per cent of our total mark for the year… and that the exam will only account for ten percent. He started shaking when he talked about the exam, so I think it's safe to assume he's had a bad experience with it.
I can't get a bad mark! How will I be able to do N.E.W.T level muggle studies, otherwise? Also, this is O.W.L.'s, people! And yeah, as much as I roll my eyes at Alicia and pat her on the head like a little dog because of how much she stresses about them, she does kind of have a point. They pretty much determine our lives, and we're only fifteen! (Okay, well, sixteen for some people. Ahem, Ange and Lee.)
If only I had a better group. I know it sounds bitchy, and I hate it when people complain about their groups, because back in muggle-school I was always one of those people that kids would look pointedly at and groan, "I hate this class! It's full of crap people!" Or, "I hate this team! It's full of people who suck!" Or, "Why did I get this group? We're going to fail!"
But still. That was all the way back in muggle-school, when everyone thought I was a freak and I had no friends. Life's tough like that. But now I really do want a better group, because I really want to do this class next year, because we get to go on a camp in some muggle place! For like, a week!
Let's see, the people in my group are… Oh, yeah. Cedric Diggory (aka Jane's mother). He won't be very good, because he's supposed to be the evil villain. He'll be too bus being all, "What? I can't do that! No way. I'm not putting a broken glass bottle to Katie's neck! That might hurt her! Or me!" … At least he thinks of me first, I suppose.
Next, we have Norman Norbody, who is playing Roger, Jane's love and homicidal interest. He absolutely sucks at giving 'subtle glances that are full of intrigue and desire'. More like, his subtle glances are gawks and drool the one time that I was running late and forgot to do the last two buttons of my shirt up, so he could see right down my top. He certainly isn't going to be much use.
The second to last person in our little group is this random Ravenclaw. I think her name is… Julie, or something. I haven't really been paying attention while she's been writing, directing and producing the play (meaning that she's payed two galleons to get both of our hair done so that we 'look the part'). She plays Roger's father, because Cedric had already taken the part of Jane's mother. She's a reasonably good actress, I suppose. I wouldn't know- I haven't actually watched her rehearse once.
I'm the last member of our little quartet. I play Jane, who is out to murder Roger. Jane's mother is out to murder Roger's father because… Well, I'm not too clear on that, but I think it's to do with money. But then again, I thought that his character was a poor beggar… I really should pay more attention to future-determining assignments.
I think what's-her-name, that Ravenclaw… Julie? Yeah, I think she knows that I haven't been playing attention, which is why the one thing she got me to do for the play was borrow a hat off McGonagall. Why she wanted a pointy hat from McGonagall, of all people, I will never know. But hey, what what's-her-name wants, what's-her-name gets.
We're all sitting around the Great Hall, waiting for all the rest of the groups to come down and get prepared. Everyone else is due in half an hour, but Alicia and Fred have come down with me for 'emotional support' because they have nothing better to do, apparently.
Yeah. That's right. I am the life of the party! Without me, my friends are nothing. Bwahahaha!
Hey. Truth hurts, buddy.
"Are you ex- whoa! What happened to you, Bell?" George asks excitedly, practically bouncing up and down on his feet. He completely ignored his brother and girlfriend, and reaches out cautiously to touch my hair. "You have some wicked locks there." He smirks and wraps it around his finger.
I yank it out of his grasp, wincing as I do so. I think I left a few hundred strands around his finger. I turn my head to look at him, only to see that he's going to be lording this over me for the next, oh, about five years.
Remember how I said what's-her-name paid about two galleons to have our hair done? Yeah, that included me. She didn't just go to the local bargain hairdresser, she went to some upper-class one that I had never even heard of, and guess what this particular high-charging hairdresser did to my beloved blonde hair?
She died my hair pink! PINK. I, Katie Bell, now officially have pink hair.
Alicia notices George's amused expression and grins. "I'd describe it as candy pink," she grins, reaching out to touch it as well. Ha. Now that my hair's turned pink, they all have some sort of fascination with it. No one cared about poor old Katie's hair before it turned pink.
Suddenly she takes a closer look at my face. "K-Katie," she splutters, still peering intently at my eyes, "are your eyes… Are your eyes pink?" Then before I can answer, she bursts into such hysterical laughter that she leans forward and smashes her skull against the rock-solid wooden table. She rubs it mid-laugh, but doesn't stop shaking so badly I fear she's having a fit.
That hairdresser? Yeah, it turns out she wasn't just a hairdresser. Apparently, she was also a licensed beautician. I personally think she should have her licence revoked for giving me PINK hair and PINK eyes!
Now I'm an albino with pink hair instead of white-blonde! I mean, not that I had white-blonde hair in the first place, but you get my drift.
I am never going to live this down.
Ever.
"Yeah, yeah," I grimace so hard that I'm surprised my face doesn't turn inside out, "you've had your laughs. Now leave me alone." I turn away from them sulkily and stare up at the stage where another group is running about arranging their props. The students have started trickling in now, so sooner or later I'm going to have to get up and go backstage.
Only to play a pink-haired, pink-eyed Jane in front of the entire year and teachers. I think a few second years are going to be in the audience, as well.
Oh great. Connie Cretin can cheer me and my pinkness on.
"Aw, come on, Bell," Fred pouts. "It's just… You're like…"
"A boy!" George supplies helpfully, then bursting into laughter along with Alicia, who hasn't come up for air yet. I think she's turning blue, which is more than I can say for me… Being pink and all.
Fred snorts as well, but when he sees my face get even stonier, he's all, "Nah, Bell, I meant… You're just really anti-pink, is all. And then to see you with pink hair and pink eyes…" Before he can help himself he's laughing, too.
I am so over the whole 'Katie has pink hair? Isn't that simply the funniest thing you've ever heard?' joke. I give them all my most menacing glare and stomp off towards the stage, tripping on a stray bucket as I do so. It clumps on my foot all the way to the stage, but I don't pause to take it off.
It's not like my luck could get any worse, or anything.
"Need any help?" I grouch at a small Slytherin who is setting up the curtains. He looks surprised for a moment, mostly because of my tone, I hope, and then shakes his head. He doesn't even say anything about my hair.
Huh. Maybe after this stupid effing play is over, I'll make friends with him. Although knowing my luck, he's probably one of those second years that suck up to the teachers so that they'll get lots of house points so that all their house-mates will suddenly love them and they'll become popular.
"Katie!" A familiar chirpy voice bounds over to me and grabs me by the hands. Um, maybe this girl doesn't know, but I am not a touchy-feely person.
Especially when I'm in an atrocious mood- like now.
"Katie!" She squeals again, in case I missed her ear-piercing call before. I didn't, honey. No need to worry about my hearing, or anything. "Aren't you just so thrilled to be taking part in such a joyous occasion?"
Yeah. "Thrilled to my bones," I joke weakly. She misses the point. "Ha, ha?" I persist. Still no response. I sigh and turn to leave ms-happy-chappy to herself. "Whatev-"
When I turn around, though, someone is staring at me. Or my precisely, my hair. I watch him unmovingly. We have a staring contest- he remains unmoving, determined to win. Until his gaze drifts back to my hair.
His shoulders start to shake.
He snorts.
He clasps a hand over his mouth to prevent any noise from leaking out.
It erupts, and all of a sudden he is doubled over, laughing his freaking arse off at my expense. Prick. I shove past him, trying to actually do some damage, but he shakes more from his own laughs than my considerable attempt at physically hurting him.
Of course, I neglect to remember that all the muggle studies people have turned the section of Great Hall we're standing on to a stage. So as I stalk past, I trip and fall down about five stairs to the makeshift 'dressing rooms'. Also known as a couple of unbelievably large cardboard boxes, decorated with swirls and love-hearts and painted lolly-pink and daybreak-blue, respectively.
"Katie? Katie, you have to come out. Our play is on next."
"No," I answer stubbornly, my eyes drifting to the 'roof'. I'm in a 'dressing room' which is barely tall enough for me to stand up in, let alone anyone like Lee or Cedric. Someone's drawn 'C.D. luvs N.N.' on the roof. Huh. Wonder what those particular initials stand for.
"Look, hon, I know you don't have much self-confidence, but I'm sure you'll do marvellous!" Hon? No self-confidence? Marvellous? Where do they get people like this? She's a joke!
"Nuh uh. Not comin' out. No way." Cool. I sound like a real red neck.
"Katie, please-"
"Bell?"
Hmm. New voice. Yet disturbingly familiar… "Yeah?" Oh well. At least it's nicer than saying, "Rack off, loser!"
"Get your fucking arse out of this box right now!" What? No please? God, someone is in a bit of a rancid mood. No names, Lee Jordan.
Suddenly, I've lost my will to hide away. If I have to act in front of all those people, well, I'll just hope it goes as quickly as possible. "Humph." It's hard work trying to get out of the dim, dark little box… I pop my head out, giving Lee the best 'I-hate-you' glare I can muster when half of my body is leaning out of a box and the other half can't even touch the floor.
It tips over, so that I am inelegantly sprawled all over the floor at Lee's feet. God, karma is the biggest bitch I have ever had the misfortune to meet. It's even worse than I am, I'm telling you.
Lee just stands there, smirking at me with this weird look in his eyes, when what's-her-name goes, "Katie! Pull your cloak down! Everyone can see your knickers!" Oh. So that's what Lee was staring at when he had the weird look in his eyes. It's not my fault my mother busy me My Little Pony underwear! I like the ponies, okay?
Glad we got that all cleared up.
"Katie," she hisses. I swear to God if I hear my name from her mouth one more time, I will turn around and punch something! "We're on!" She pushes me out through the curtains.
Stage fright is a horrible thing. Like, if this play were solely in front of my friends, I would have no problem what-so-ever about doing it. Hell, I'd probably add in a rendition of 'Mary had a little lamb' purely for my own amusement. But when it's in front of a bunch of people you don't know, let alone like, it's is actually really scary.
The next thing I notice is that the second years are actually here as well. Huh. I spot Fred, George, Alicia and Ange in the front row. Ange catches my eye and gives me a little smile.
"Oh, darling!" Ha ha ha. It's Cedric's character. He comes striding onto the stage, and he gives me a faux hug and kiss on the cheek. At least, I hope it is. "Have you seen him?"
"Who?" I ask stupidly, forgetting that I'm supposed to be saying my line, which is, "Of course, dah-ling. He's such a spunk bubble!"
Cedric frowns the tiniest frown I've ever seen. "Roger?" He says hesitantly, as if he's not sure if this is part of the play or not.
I grin widely. "Of course, dah-ling, honey-pot, my little bumblebee. Who hasn't seen that delicious excuse for a woman?" Um, WTF, Katie?
Cedric begins to look a little nervous. "He's looking at you, dah-ling."
I glance towards the corner, where Norman Norbody is standing, looking absolutely shocked that I'm making up the lines as I go along. "Oh, that Roger?" I ask lightly. "He is adorable! I just want to take him home and rav-"
"Excuse me!" What's-her-name interrupts before I can finish that sentence. Good thing too, because a few of the audience members are getting the giggles. Except for the second years, because they hadn't understood what I'd been about to say.
Ah. If only I were that young and naïve, the world would be a better place.
"I am glad I have found you at last," What's-her-name recites perfectly. "I have something to confess." God, why is this play so boring? It's a good thing I've been tuning out during all the rehearsals, because otherwise I could have been bored to death… or something.
Anyway. My group is looking at me expectantly. Say a something, Katie. The first thing that pops into your head… "Coke or pepsi?"
Damn. Gotta stop watching Alicia's muggle T.B. thing. It is seriously starting to turn me into one of those robot-girls that my brothers date. You know, the ones that are all, "Like, oh my God! I like, so totally love your… What do you call those things on your head again?"
"Katie," what's-her-name stage whispers, "you have to walk back-stage and wait for your cue." Cue… Isn't that one of those sticks that muggles use to play a ball game with? See, I do listen in muggle studies! Well, once in a while, anyway.
So anyway, I give her a salute to let her know that I got her message loud and clear and move to walk through the curtains. Unfortunately for me, though, I don't watch where I'm going (ie. look at the floor) and so trip on something. Or more specifically, Norman Norbody's outstretched foot.
And because I trip on stupid bloody Norman Norbody's outstretched foot, I go flying. What's a human's natural instinct when they're falling? Yeah, to reach out and grab something. Like a curtain. And when said human has consumed an astonishing amount of chocolate mud cake during the last week, the extra weight does not do anything to help keep the curtain stable.
So, I fall to the ground and the entire curtain falls to the ground, revealing the next group, who are (for some strange reason) getting changed behind the curtain instead of the 'dressing rooms' (aka cardboard boxes).
It's like a domino effect. The curtain falls on my group, who all simultaneously start yelling and screaming (Cedric has an unbelievably high-pitched scream), the people who were getting changed all start yelling and screaming (which, ironically, includes Lee… What an excellent way to get back at him for practically abusing me via his stupid loud-speaker during the Quidditch match) and then the audience is caught between yelling, laughing and perving on the half-naked bunch of amateur actors.
"Er… This will be continued," Professor Jervois stands up and announces, much to the disappointment of the audience. "It seems one of our actors is a bit unsteady on her feet." This observation results in a particularly loud laugh from my friends. "Thank you, and I hope you enjoyed the show."
Show, my arse. They enjoyed the perving. Oh, and watching me make a dick of myself… But these days, that goes without saying.
We're still underneath the curtain when I hear Norman Norbody go, "Hey, Katie? I'm sorry about putting that weird mixture in your drink this morning. I just wanted to help you to chill out a bit, you know? I mean, if there's any hard feelings-"
Oh my God. He spiked my drink? Not cool, dude. There are serious health issues, right there. I could have been allergic to whatever it was that he slipped I my drink, but did he care? No. Oh well, at least that explains why I forgot all my lines… I knew I had paid at least a bit of attention.
Oh my God. He spiked my drink! That also explains why I didn't fight to the death about my pink hair and pink eyes!
Heh. It's funny that I don't go all Rabid-Katie on him for giving me cause to worry about my health (hey, I might only live to I'm a hundred now, instead of one hundred and one) but I try and attack him when I remember the afore mentioned colour of my hair.
"You prrrick!" I lunge for him, although I can't actually see anything underneath the curtain. I just miss grabbing his foot, because he turns away and scuttles back the way he came from.
I'm about to have another go when all of a sudden I hear Lee's voice. "Katie? Who are you playing tonsil hockey with now?" He asks casually, his tone laced with amusement.
I'm glad he finds it funny… Although he won't when I find out what Norman Norbody put in my drink, because then I'll put it in Lee's drink and find out how he likes it.
Oh, and maybe get him to do the chicken dance in front of the whole school during lunch.
After all, one can never have too much revenge, can they?
Okay, sorry about the mostly unedited chapter: FanFiction is being unbelievably screwy about saving changes to the chapter. Thanks to everyone who has reviewed my one shot, I Don't Think China Heard That. And if you haven't read/reviewed it, go do so as soon as you review this chapter, lol. Don't you just love shamelessly flaunting your own work :D