Age!$# FIVE YEARS OLD
Hair: Knotty
Current Mood: I want to burst into tears. I'm blaming five-year-old bi-polar emotions.
Current Location: Back in my dorm with Ange and Leesh, surrounded by junk food.
I freaking hate her. I loathe and despise her with the intensity of 5000 flaming suns. With every fibre and filament of my being. I'll kill her. And after I kill her, I'll learn the Dark Arts so I can bring her back to life. And then I'll kill her some more.
"And now you can't wear all this make-up we bought you." Alicia sulked. "What kind of tarty five-year-old would wear blush to school?"
Ok, that had to be the only silver lining in this massive, massive storm cloud that was hanging over my head. I didn't have to wear the stupid dresses and kitten heels.
"That Cally sounds like a b-i-t-c-h." Angelina interjected. Her family is strict on bringing their children up respectfully, so Ange still spells out all her 'naughty words.' And she's still getting the hang of the whole female 'bitch session.'
"She just rocked up out of nowhere and had McGonagall eating out of her hand, and Wood simpering at her feet."
"That slut." Alicia said through a mouthful of chocolate ice-cream.
"And she completely ignored me the whole time, and then asked if I was McGonagall's daughter."
"She did not!"
"And she petted me on the head." Alicia's mouth was full, so Angelina took a stab at comforting me.
"Clearly this Cally person has a superiority complex, coupled with a severe disregard for her own safety."
"No, Ange, sweetie." Alicia sighed, taking the spoon out of her mouth. "Try again. Less words, more force."
"That scarlet hussy!"
Alicia grimaced. "It's a start." Alicia waved the ice-cream spoon in my direction.
"Katie, you may continue."
"Yeah well, and she's taking up all of Woods time."
"That painted harlot." Angelina stated with conviction, slamming her hand down on the carpet.
Alicia suddenly looked more calculated. "Tell me more."
"Practises are only going to go for an hour, two times a week. Instead of like, 6 hours, every freaking day."
"Hmmm… Actually, I think I might like this Cally chick. Introduce me and I'll give her a medal." I shot Alicia a withering look. "Followed by a swift kick up the rear." She hastily added.
"He's supposed to be training us for the game, not flirting with some brunette bimbo." I argued.
"Yeah, but trying to look at this on the positive side, no more early-morning practises." Alicia tried to persuade me.
"Leesh." Angelina hissed, "I might be new to this whole 'b-i-t-c-h session' thing, but aren't we supposed to be comforting her and agreeing with her, and not taking Cally's side?"
"Oh, yeah." Alicia looked deflated. "That salamander scum Cally." She said, less than enthusiastically.
"We've got to win this game to stay in the running to win the Cup. It's Wood's last year and final shot at it."
"Now you sound like Wood." Alicia smirked.
"A few days ago Wood was hyperventilating because practise only ran from 5am until 11pm and we took a ten-minute break for lunch and dinner. But when I was in McGongall's office today, he completely forgot he was Quidditch Captain. He forgot about practises, he forgot we had an upcoming game. He even forgot he had a team."
"WHAT?!" That got Alicia. If there's one thing she hates, it's being overlooked.
"Something's wrong with him."
Angelina grimaced. "He thinks he's in love. He's infatuated with her."
Holy freaken hell. Wood can't be in love. He can't go out with some chick. He's Wood. He's our Quidditch Captain. He's practically married to the game; that's his only love. Nothing stands between him and Quidditch practise. No force of neither nature nor man. He's like a part of the equipment. One Snitch, two Bludgers, one Quaffle and a Wood.
Alicia petted me on the back and for once it wasn't a patronising gesture. It was a rare display of empathy from Leesh - usually she was the punch-you-on-the-shoulder, suck-it-up and joke-it-off type. No wonder Fred Weasely liked her.
"He'll come around." Angelina consoled. "That Cally's too prissy for him. He likes you, Katie, he's liked you since the first year you were on the team."
Alicia was back to her no-nonsense self, pulling me to my feet and hustling me out the door. "Cally's only going to be here for one week, and then Wood will forget all about her. Now let's burn off these calories and go to our deliciously short, one hour Quidditch practise."
"And really, what does this Cally have that you don't?" Angelina pepped me.
She leaned against her broomstick, Quidditch robes hugging her in just the right places. Why couldn't Hogwarts Quidditch robes be tailored like that? I wondered. Her long, dark hair was arranged into cascading waves framing her perfectly shaped cheekbones. It was deceptively simple, but judging by the amount of time Angelina took to create that same look for a 'casual' meeting with George, her hairstyle would have taken at least an hour. I thought back to this morning, and how much time I took to style my hair. I think I brushed it…I might not have bothered. Well, I mean, I was going out to Quidditch practise. Wind, storms, sweat – who could be bothered? Cally, evidently. Her robes were perfectly pressed. Mine were unironed from being scrunched up at the foot of my bed. But it's practise for freaks sake – not a beauty pageant. They're only going to get ripped, muddied, torn anyway. Her skin was perfect. I had bruises on my shins and scabs on my elbows from my most recent fall.
What has this Cally got that I haven't? Everything. Angelina and Alicia took one look at her and their mouths fell open. Harry had the same reaction when he laid his bespectacled eyes on Cally. Fred and George eyed her appreciatively as Ange and Leesh narrowed their eyes at the Weasleys. Practise hadn't even started and Cally had alienated the team.
"What is she doing here?" I hissed at Wood when he strode out of the change-rooms. I didn't even bother to lower my voice, or refrain from jerking my thumb in Cally's general direction.
"She's here to replace you."
"Oh, he did not just say that!" Angelina was furious on my behalf. And it takes a lot for Angelina to loose her temper.
Wood raised an eyebrow at me. He took several steps closer until he was standing over me to illustrate his point. I had to crane my neck and shield me eyes just to look him in the eyes. "Katie, look at you. You couldn't wrap your arms around a Quaffle, much less catch it properly. One nudge from a Bludger and you'll be catapulted into space. It's not safe for you to play Quidditch. Cally will step in to replace you."
"And what happens at the actual game?"
Wood made a face. "We'll cross that hurdle when we come to it."
"Do I get any say?" I asked acidly.
"No."
"Wood, I'm not five-years old!" Wood shot me a look as he climbed onto his broomstick and zoomed away. "I only look like I am." I muttered under my breath. I felt deflated. I couldn't even muster up outrage or indignation after the way he'd just replaced me. Cally had replaced all aspects of me – she was me. A better looking, better performing me. I didn't have the heart to slog it out in a screaming match with Oliver. He was right.
"Hold on Wood." Fred bellowed. "Katie might be the size of a House-Elf, but at least she's a Chaser. Whatshername isn't." I noticed Cally didn't step in to correct him.
Wood stopped and hovered on his broom. "She got a Quaffle past me at the Puddlemere trials."
"Only because you were too busy looking at her chest." Wood spun around agitatedly to face Fred.
"She's good enough." He said tightly. "And her name is Cally."
"Her name can be Beshrinkle-Who the Wonder Snert for all I care – Katie gets Quaffles past you all the time."
"Well, she can't now, she's a five-year-old."
"And who's responsible for that Wood?" Alicia joined in.
Wood ran a hand through his hair in exasperation. "Look, we have to win this game." So he does still care about the game. He probably only wants to win it to impress Cally.
"Really? Because I was under the impression you just wanted to snog Cally's brains out." George countered.
"Put yourself in my shoes – I've got a choice between a five-year-old or a professional Puddlemere United player. Who would you choose?"
"I'd choose the girl who's been here on time every Quidditch practise for four full years, putting in 110 percent every time." Angelina rationed. Um, who was Ange confusing me with? It was true I was there for every Quidditch practise, but often late and grumpy and unco-operative. "Oliver, Katie's been on the team ever since her second year, when Charlie trialled her. She was the only one that got the Quaffle past you at that trial, that's why."
"This isn't about keeping friendships, it's about what's best for the team."
Fred crossed his arms. "The team? You're going to let Cally, a total stranger –"
"- and a two-faced upstart goody-goody may I add," George interrupted.
"Play for our team - for Gryffindor - when she doesn't even go to this school? And you say it's what's best for the team?"
"And I'm pretty sure it's against the rules too." Harry piped up. That boy has spent waay too much time around Hermione Granger.
"LOOK, DO YOU WANT TO WIN THIS BLOODY GAME OR NOT?" Wood bellowed.
"If it involves playing with Cally as a Chaser and you as the Captain, then no." And then Fred, George, Harry, Ange and Leesh turned on their heels and walked over to me) leaving Wood hovering in the middle of an empty Quidditch Pitch.
"I know you like him and all Katie, but Oliver Wood can be a right prick some of the time." Fred sighed as we stormed back to Hogwarts.
"I don't like him."
"I wouldn't either, the way he's behaving." He agreed.
"He still likes you Katie." George added brightly. "And let's face it, at the end of a Quidditch practise, you're not exactly going to take out the Miss Witch Competition. The fact that Oliver fancies you after we're covered in mud, grime, sweat, slime, Flobberworm mucus and anything else he throws at us means he's in it for the long haul. Some upstart jock Puddlemere-wannabe isn't going to change that."
"Thanks guys." I finally managed. Angelina and Alicia looked absolutely smitten at the Weasley's boys softer-side. And for once, I could sort of see what the girls saw in the twins.
"Is there any reason you're being this especially nice?"
George looked outraged. "Our Quidditch Captain has just shucked you for some Circe try-hard – you need all the support you can get."
"And also, as mentioned before, you are exactly House-Elf size, and thus the perfect candidate to explore some secret House-Elf passages we've been trying to break into since our second year. So how about it?"
I sighed. Although they meant well, I suddenly felt just as used and betrayed as when Oliver said he'd replaced me. Everyone, even my friends and Quidditch Captain, saw and treated me like a five-year-old. And I was in a serious sulky mood.