Hi all! I couldn't resist a little drabble sequel on how Katie sort of meets Oliver for the first time.Be warned though, there's not too much Oliver.

Chapter 2: Who?

The identity of one changes with how one perceives reality

Vithu Jeyaloganathan

Katie adjusted her robes for the one hundredth time. She knew that they were already perfectly fine. Eleanor, the Bell family maid, had ironed the robes so well that even now, nearly ten hours since she had put left home; they hung perfectly straight and without a wrinkle.

"Well, if you are going to go to some nonsense school," Eleanor had said grumpily as she hunched over the ironing table, "I'll at least have you looking smart for your first day. Katherine Elizabeth, you put down that biscuit this instant!"

Katie looked around the cavernous Great Hall and felt a sudden pang of longing for Eleanor's sharp tongue and warm biscuits. Her fascination with the talking hat and the enchanted ceiling was quickly being replaced by a feeling of overwhelming homesickness. But it wouldn't do to dwell on this; it would be quite sometime before she would return home.

Katie gazed wearily at the children around her. She knew she would have to make friends but truth be told; Katie hadn't ever really had any friends her own age. Growing up, she had always had the best of everything: the best tutors, the best toys, the best dresses; which were all very well and nice, but it had been a very solitary existence. There hadn't been many children that her mother had deemed suitable enough to be a playmate of Katherine Elizabeth Bell. She was a Bell after all, and Bells took careful consideration when choosing those they would associate themselves with.

Of course, Katie was no longer just a Bell. She was also a witch now

Katie watched as a lanky fellow took a seat across from her. He had just been sorted and was clearly ecstatic at having been placed in Gryffindor. Katie had no prior knowledge of what any of these houses meant and therefore could not share in his joy. She instead politely congratulated him before turning back to the Sorting.

The boy, however, was in the mood to talk.

"Name's Cormac. Cormac McLaggen," the boy called Cormac said jovially, obviously still thrilled at the outcome of the Sorting. He continued talking before Katie had a chance to get a word in. "I'm quite happy I got put in Gryffindor. Aren't you?"

Once again Cormac continued as if he hadn't even asked a question. Katie found this all to be very rude and was quickly becoming annoyed. "I suppose Ravenclaw wouldn't be half-bad, or Hufflepuff. But Slytherin, I think I'd have to kill myself."

It was on the tip of her tongue to ask why, exactly, it would be so bad to be placed in Slytherin. The Sorting Hat had considered placing her in Slytherin for about five seconds before deciding there was no doubt she belonged in Gryffindor. Katie refrained from asking however, she did not particularly like this boy and she didn't want to talk to him any more than what was necessary.

Cormac continued, hardly paying attention to whether or not Katie was actually listening. "Bunch of slimy gits if you ask me. You-know-who himself was in Slytherin, did you know? All their pureblooded garbage, honestly, don't you think they're crazy?"

At this point, Cormac finally stopped talking and looked at her expectantly, clearly wanting her opinion. Unfortunately, Katie hadn't understood a word of the nonsense that had come from Cormac's mouth.

Of course, she wasn't about to let him know this. She drew herself up and glared at him icily, "Pardon?"

Cormac was clearly perplexed by Katie's sudden change in demeanor. She watched as he examined her closely before fear appeared in his eyes, "Say—you're—you're not a pureblood are you?" he asked nervously.

Katie felt her patience wearing thin, "A what?"

Cormac stared at her, "A pureblood," he repeated incredulously, "You know, are all your family witches and wizards? But if you don't know what a pureblood is than you obviously can't be one. So you must be a Muggle-born."

Katie didn't particularly like that fact that Cormac seemed to know so much more than she did. She also didn't like the way he said Muggle-born like it had a meaning other than that her parents were born without magic.

"I'll have you know," Katie said, raising an eyebrow, "that my father is Harold Bell. The Harold Bell." She looked at Cormac expectantly, waiting for the inevitable widening of his eyes and soft gasp that always occurred whenever she mentioned who her father was.

Cormac stared at her blankly for a few seconds before frowning, "Who?"

"Harold Bell," Katie repeated, this time a little louder.

Cormac shook his head, his brow furrowed, "Nope, sorry, never heard of him."

A chubby boy to Cormac's right lit up. "Say, isn't he that Muggle politician who drowned in the bathtub last year---"

"No" Katie said vehemently, annoyance evident in her voice. How could they not know who her father was? Katie was at a lost. This had never happened before.

Cormac turned to an older-looking dark haired boy sitting next to him.

"Have you heard of him?" Cormac asked. The boy was clearly a few years older than Cormac and herself, and he ignored the question completely. Katie found this to be a bit rude though she secretly wished she could ignore Cormac too. The older boy was staring at the Sorting (which had progressed to "Welynn, Leanne") and muttering something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like "beaters need bigger arms than that".

Cormac gave the boy an odd look before turning back to Katie.

He leaned in conspiratorially and whispered quietly, "Say, I think that's Oliver Wood."

To Katie's chagrin, Cormac's idea of a whisper was quite loud and she did not doubt that the boy called Oliver Wood had heard them whispering about him. However, if he had heard them, he refrained from mentioning it. He was still staring at the first-years being Sorted with rapt attention.

Katie leaned in towards Cormac, "It is rude to whisper about those who are in your presence," she hissed at him. "Now if you will excuse me, I would like to watch the remainder of the Sorting in peace."

"Sortings are boring," Cormac said unconcernedly. "Who's Harold Bell?"

But luckily, the Headmaster Professor Dumbledore chose that exact moment to stand and say a few words before the feast began. Katie halfheartedly listened to his words, her mind swimming with confusing thoughts.

The truth of the matter was she had no idea who exactly her father was. That is to say, she knew he was Harold Bell; the man who came home from his office by the time Katie was tucked into bed and whose main conversation with her consisted mostly of greetings and inquiries about how her Latin studies were coming along. But Katie knew nothing about what exactly it was that he did. What she did know was that he worked in a very tall building, that he was very important, and that normally, mentioning Harold Bell was her father elicited shocked gasps or at the very least, interested stares.

It was then that a peculiar idea began to form in her mind. Maybe, she would no longer be receiving any gasps or stares. Maybe, this was a different sort of place. A place where the weight of who she was and more importantly, who her father was, were inconsequential. A place where she could be whoever she wanted to be. There would be no expectations. Katie wondered how she should feel about this. If truth be told, in the pit of her stomach she felt a bit of excitement mixed with a large dose of anxiousness.

"None of us have ever heard of Harold Bell," Cormac said loudly, as more food than the Bell's served at even their largest dinner parties magically appeared on the table. "Who is he?"

Katie looked at him for a moment, irked by his pestering and slightly confused.

"Who is Harold Bell?" Cormac questioned again, with a hint of annoyance in his voice.

"He's…" Katie trailed off, unsure of what to say. Did it really matter? "He's no one."

"No one?" asked Cormac quizzically. "Isn't he your father?"

Katie was thoroughly exhausted by Cormac's questioning. "He's no one," she repeated firmly, doing her best to imitate Eleanor's "no-more-discussion" voice.

Cormac shrugged, "Well who are you then?"

Katie straightened up and opened her mouth give the answer she had been trained to give to this question since she was five-years old. Katherine Elizabeth Bell. But something, perhaps the same something that had put the idea in her head that she no longer had to be just a Bell, stopped her. Katherine Elizabeth Bell was quite a mouthful. And the other children usually rolled their eyes and sometimes even laughed whenever Katie gave this answer.

Katie looked to see that Cormac, the round-faced boy who had thought her father was a drowned politician, and a new pale blonde girl were all staring at her interestedly. The older boy, Oliver Wood, was ignoring them completely and was now staring fixedly at the Slytherin table while shoveling food into his mouth. What an odd boy, Katie thought to herself before turning back to the first-years in front of her.

Katie knew she found Cormac to be quite tiresome, but the round-faced boy and the blonde girl seemed nice enough. Maybe even friendly. And Katherine Elizabeth wouldn't do if she planned on making new friends.

She smiled slowly.

"I'm Katie, Katie Bell."

Sigh! I hope you like. It took me so long to write!! I meant to sign up for the 100quills Challenge over at LJ so I could just do some laidback writing for fun. Of course, I have to turn it into a multi-chapter story like thing. But I'm still keeping each chapter short which makes it a little easier. Let me know what you think!

REVIEW!!!!!