Name: Katie Bell
Age: 16
Hair: I don't know: hanging. Swaying in the breeze. Like hair always does.
Current Mood: Too tired to be grumpy. But if I was properly awake, I would be grumpy.
Current Location: Great Hall breakfast. The Quidditch game begins in an hour.

"Drink up, drink up." George smiled gleefully, pushing a glass of pumpkin juice across the table to me, as I struggled to my seat. I tell you, climbing onto my seat was like trying the scale Mt Everest. And despite all my efforts, when I got up on my seat, my eyes were only level with the table-top. I eyed the pumpkin juice resting several inches from my face.

"My stomach is not awake this early in the morning."

"Just drink it." Fred said. "We put a little pick-me-up in it as well."

"Like caffeine?"

"Even better." George grinned an evil wolfish grin, but my eyes were too blurry to notice, and my brain was too sleepy to realise that drinking an unknown concoction offered by the Weasley's was not a smart idea. At all. But I raised it too my lips anyway.

"That was fricking disgusting!" I spat as I choked it down. "What did you guys put in it?"

"Just a little potion." Fred soothed.

"You'll thank us in a minute." George added.

"I thought you slipped in some coffee. What the hell did you just feed me?" It was then my stomach cramped in pain. The Weasley twins had fricking poisoned me.

I raced upstairs, doubled over in pain, ready to curl up on my bed and wait for the pain to go away. But when I got to my Gryffindor dorm, I felt feverish. I was burning up. I burst into my room and barrelled towards the bathroom. Leesh and Ange were still sitting on their beds, in their full Quidditch gear. Why weren't they warming up on the pitch? No time to wonder, I felt so hot and horrible I decided to take a quick shower. I couldn't believe I'd willingly eaten something the Weasley's had offered me. That was why I usually slept through Breakfast: I was too tired to think straight, thus I often fell prey to the twin's pranks.

Five minutes I was feeling better. A lot better. I stepped out of the shower and pulled my pajamas back on, ready to go back to bed and forget about the stupid Quidditch game. I wiped the foggy mirror with my towel so I could brush my teeth. Through the smoky streaks on the mirror I stared into the face that stared back at me. It was my face. My normal face. My 16-year-old face.

"Ange! Leesh!" I screamed, bolting out of the bathroom to two grinning girls. "I'm me again!"

"We know. Quick, put your Quidditch uniform on." Angela threw me my scarlet robes.

"That was Fred and George's idea. An aging potion."

"So this is permanent, right? They found a way to bypass the whole 'Oliver has to change me back himself' rule?'"

"Not exactly." Grimaced Ange.

"There's just enough potion for you to play the game. Now hurry up and get dressed so we can talk tactics."

There was a loud knock from the other side our window.

"Is she decent yet?" Came Fred's voice.

"Or better yet, is she normal yet?" George asked. After I'd thrown my robes on, Leesh drew back the curtains and opened the window to admit Fred, George, Harry, Ron and Hermione, who was clinging to Ron like a mollusc. I think Hermione may be a touch afraid of heights. Why she just didn't walk through the front door I have no idea – the girl's staircase certainly would have let her through.

"Do you like our surprise?" Fred grinned as he dismounted from his broom.

"It's even better than the golf buggy. But how did you manage it?"

"Katie. Dear, sweet Katie. Being that aging potions are illegal and banned from Hogwarts, naturally we've known about them for years. But we just couldn't get our hands on the ingredients, let alone the actual recipe and someone with enough skill to brew it. But Harry and his magical invisibility cloak solved our first two problems, and Hermione was our other saviour, in more ways than one. Tell her, Hermione." George gave Hermione a bit of a shove forward.

"Well, Harry was telling us about this Cally girl who'd shown up to steal your Quidditch position –"

"Amongst other things." Ange muttered.

" – and I thought, just for fun-"

"Just for fun." Ron mimicked sarcastically.

"Will you guys please let me continue? Thank-you. Katie, I looked up Callidus Venenum's family in some of the more general history books."

"Look, Hermione," I sighed, "Knowing Cally is bad enough. I really don't want to know about her heritage and parents right now."

"No, I know you don't. Look, I don't think Oliver Wood was the one who cast this jinx on you."

I barely repressed making a dismissive snorting noise. Actually, a tiny one might have slipped out despite my efforts, "Yeah, I'm pretty sure it was Wood. I was there. He said I behaved like a five-year-old, poof, suddenly I just happen to be five again. Co-incidence? I think not. Even McGonagall, Professor of Transfiguration said it was Wood's fault, and I was royally screwed unless he saw me as a mature adult again."

"That's because she thought Oliver was the one who had cast the jinx. But she's wrong. Think about it: if Oliver really was the one who cast that jinx, then the aging potion shouldn't have worked. I looked it up: the only way to reverse that kind of hex is for the spell originator to cancel it."

"So if Wood didn't cast a spell, what happened to me?"

"I think it was Cally."

"Excuse me?" Hasn't that harpy meddled with my life enough? Right from the start she…right from the start – she was there in McGonagall's office the same time Wood and I were. We just weren't introduced to her until after the spell was cast. I turned to Hermione and snarled, "What the hell did she do to me?"

"Harry told me about the way Wood was treating you guys since Cally came along, especially you, and it didn't seem right. I researched her family history, you know, to try to get information about her. From what Harry told me, everywhere Cally went, she seemed to cause chaos. And that's just it. Her family tree is like a who's-who of mischief causers. You know what Veela's are?"

"I've heard of them." George grunted. "They're supposed to be really pretty, bewitching, sort of like Sirens."

"Close enough." Hermione agreed. "She's got Veela blood in her, which may explain the way Oliver's been acting around her. But that's not all. Her great-great-grandfather was an incredibly powerful sorcerer in the Middle Ages. He was so powerful he was made a local deity, almost like a demi-god. And his chief area of magical expertise? He was a Trickster. Cally's entire family are Tricksters, Chaos-Causers. Her grandfather was Vlad the Venomous, who allegedly poisoned his brother's mind against his fiancée, so Vlad could marry her instead. Considering her heritage, if Cally wanted to, she could probably make Fred and George mortal enemies, and make Harry and Malfoy best friends." Harry shuddered. "It's not Dark Magic, what they practise, but it's close enough."

Inwardly, I was appalled, but my emotions also ran the gamut of seriously pissed off and nervously excitement. Finally, someone had presented tangible evidence to prove what I knew all along: Cally was evil. "Great researching Hermione, but did you find out how to reverse the spell?"

"There aren't a lot of books about Trickster Magic, so I'm not sure how the spell works exactly, but if you want to stay 16 permanently, you've got to somehow find a way to make Cally turn you back."

I grabbed my broomstick from my cupboard. "Trust me, I'll find a way."

I think I mentioned it before, but Callidus Venenum's name is supposed to be Latin for 'Callous Venom' and/or 'Shrewd Poison'. I think it may translate more literally into 'Something-er-rather Drug' but hey, I tried; blame free dodgy translation websites and the fact schools no longer teach Latin.

I loved the idea of Cally teaming up with Flint, but I don't have the time to explore it as I'm wrapping the story up in the next five or so chapters. Remembering originally I think I expected this story to play out between 5-10 chapters.

Any ideas how Katie will make Cally turn her permanently 16 again? I have something in mind, but you guys probably have a better idea.

Next Chapter: Let the Games Begin. And begin they do.