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ITALICS INTENDED
"… that's very interesting, dear."
"I just wanted to pull on his ear and scream his head off for blowing himself before the game. Wood looked like he had swallowed a lemon at that kick-off, but really, Harry was not to blame."
Her mother looked at her with a strange gaze as the girl went on a long tirade that seemed to have them in a daze.
"And what of Ophiucus, dear, how is he?"
Katie made a constipated face at that.
"Sod The Cod, mum. He is the samesy same, that prat."
And so it went, for the better part of a week after Katie arrived at the Belly. Or better yet, for the better part of Summer! Katie was very talkative, her parents noticed, and she was only a bit of a glummer when her birthday passed and went away.
Why, nobody could say, although Leanne had a clue.
"So, did you write to Harry?"
She said that with such a innocent tone … too innocent, in fact.
"No, why would I do that?"
Leanne looked at her like she was trying to decipher a small dog, while Katie's mind seemed to be filled with a kind of fog.
"Well, I just thought you would like to sort things out in a more clear way."
Katie bit her upper lip as she stared at Leanne.
"Hey, I did it, alright. I wrote to him. I invited him to my birthday and sent a gift to him," she finished, her tone a little dim.
Leanne clapped.
"Oh, good. Did he reply?"
And she knew the answer already.
"No. I wonder why, though. I wonder if—"
She did not finish. She was still a bit mad with him, and was properly confused how to go on with this whole thing still. The thought of their friendship ending left her with a strange chill. Things were not very clear at the end of the school-year. He hugged her back like they had never had any kind of clash.
But he did so for every piece of trash in Gryffindor.
And sometimes she wasn't so sure she wasn't part of them.
"Maybe he did not receive the letter …"
"He received the letter alright. He is just ignoring it. When I get his hands on him, he better—"
But then she noticed Leanne's strange expression.
"Why the funny face?" Katie made her question.
"Nothing, Katie, nothing at all. So, what do you make of The Cod?"
"Oh, did you notice? How did he grow so tall?"
And Summer came and went away, and soon enough Katie, Leanne and The Cod crossed the Platform 9 ¾ archway into their secret world once again with cheer, for their third year at Hogwarts.
"Tad said that the Hogwarts House that wins the library pass with the House Cup usually gets the worst marks in class," said Katie.
"Mum said something like that, too. Something about that great library pass making everyone write their assignments too late, well into the night," said The Cod.
"Well, we'll just not make them wait, then. We'll do them as soon as we can," said Leanne in a deadpan.
The trio looked at one another and laughed at the notion. Granted, with the unusual potion or weird spell, they had to really put on the work to excel. But usually, most students got by fine. But that soon would change, as now each one of them had to study for nine—yes, nine—subjects.
"I still think you two are crazy to get Ancient Runes, with Babbling nonetheless," said Leanne. "It's such a stress trying to memorise all of that old stuff."
"Well, it's better than crunching numbers like you're in a huff. Really, why do we even need Arithmancy for now?" said The Cod.
"Oh wow, and what about the Creatures one? No reason at all to take that, none. Why the hell would I be so thick to go and learn about the size of a bowtruckle's—" began Katie, but she was interrupted by Hermione opening their compartment door.
"Hey Katie, Leanne, Ophiucus, have any of you seen Harry or Ron?"
Leanne began to smile at The Cod's name, but replied to her.
"Hey, Hermione. We have not. We have just found out this spot—the other one, well, what can I say—"
"There was a Ravenclaw guy there with some serious intestinal trouble. I thought I was seeing double before we finally left there," said The Cod, as Leanne and Katie blushed.
"Oh, don't be unfair, Cod, he was so embarrassed with the whole situation," said Katie even though she grinned.
"Oh, it's not his fault. We just had to move our way off downwind, that's all."
And then they could not hold on to their laughter anymore.
"Well, if you see them, could you perhaps tell them that I'm on the last car, please?"
They agreed with ease and soon prepared themselves for the train trip. Hermione took only a short second more to glance with an odd expression towards The Cod.
"Why was she staring at me? Is there something weird on my face?"
Leanne and Katie grinned.
"Well, there is your face, if we can count that—"
"And there is a mighty prat between your ears, too."
"Very funny, you two. Now, seriously, Beasley, Bell, what the hell is wrong?"
They glanced at one another one more time. The Cod had cut that awful long hair and had grown quite tall over the Summer. Katie could bet that only McLaggen would be taller than him in their year.
"Nothing wrong, big fish, as long as you keep that sneer off of it," which prompted his scoff.
"And what is wrong with that?" he spat.
Leanne seemed to ponder him for a while.
"Well, girls don't like when you talk to them like that."
The Cod made a strange face.
"Or boys," quipped Katie, though she had the grace to get out of the spell's way.
"You little witch, I am not—"
Of course that idiot and his partner-in-crime had to arrive with a chime. Crashing a flying car into a fighting tree was tremendously stupid—but we have to agree: it was a stupendously cool way to come to school.
It was a good thing they had not lost any point because of it, too, lest they had a repeat of that again, or had any joint pain or had their heads smashed. Granted, at least it would save them from being thrashed by that loud Howler—Katie's ears still ringed with all that holler.
So much so that she didn't even heard him call—or see him at all. Granted: she was not as tall as The Cod, but she had a growth spurt, too, it seemed. She didn't remember Harry being that wee small.
And he told her the most fantastical tale she'd ever heard, impressing even The Cod himself. It involved a male house-elf, that was apparently snatching every bird that came with a letter, making him think there was no word of his friends—he should've known better!
"Thank you very much for the invitation and for the gift, I'm sorry I couldn't go, but—you know," he said, and Katie felt a strange sensation, and suddenly it seemed there was never a rift. He pushed in her hands a small green box. "Ginny helped me picking it."
And in it there were a nice pair of socks, with golden and green harpies etched in. Leanne made a small sound, her face split into a grin. The Cod, similarly, was looking at him with fascination and with not a very small amount of fixation.
"Well, see you around," he said while leaving Katie in dumbfound. He made the gesture to give her a one-armed embrace but suddenly withdrew midway through and left her personal space, giving her only an awkward pat on the head, his own face red, and then rushed away.
It took only a few seconds before Leanne's bray.
"Awn, that was so cute, wasn't it Cod?"
The Cod was mute, staring ahead, at the space Harry had fled.
Katie cupped the box in her hands, her own face a bit red as she looked at the colourful strands of the sock, her mind filled with shock.
Most of all, she saw the Snitch-latch on his coat, the untagged gift she had sent him after the Ravenclaw match, and suddenly she felt something on her throat.
"You never wrote to me for my birthday," said The Cod in dismay.
Katie let out a huff.
"Your brains are made of sterner stuff, big fish. Your birthday is in May. Stop feeling so blue!"
"You never wrote me, too," said Leanne, a bit sly.
Katie pinched her nose.
"Your birthday is in July, same as mine, little rose—everyone knows. We see each other that whole week! For Merlin's sake, think, you cheeky crink!"
But Leanne only showed her a small smile.
Big Fish however had something to say.
"But you never sent a gift or a letter to either of us," he began to discuss, his eyes hiding his mirth. "I didn't realise we were worth so little of Miss Bell's attention."
Katie looked with a bit of hesitation towards The Cod.
"Bechod! Okay, you win. In May, don't fear my big fishy friend, we'll have the party of the year."
The Cod nodded suspiciously.
"And invite everyone we know," he began mischievously. "Even your boy … friend."
Katie looked at him with danger in her eyes.
"I think he is talking about Harry," said Leanne, always the wise little cherry.
Katie's wand shone with the purple light of a stinging hex. It was enough of a warning to the pair.
People could only stare and perplex as a gingery girl and a burly boy passed them in a whirl soaring up stair after stair, fleeing a fair-haired girl who was filling the air with streaks of light and screams of delight.
Or was it fright?
"Come back 'ere, you stinking fish, you little ho—"
Eh, we'll never know.
There were some classes, some studying and sh**. But—sorry— that's not what get people to hit—or to view—this story. The tags for the pairing and the little bit of glaring that the reader is now presenting are clues enough for me, if thee can believe. So hold onto your venting, for things will take a while still, but it would not do to be left unsaid: I'm just as much of a HP/KB shill.
Which is why I'm skipping every meal, every random meeting, almost every NPC or new character greeting, all McLaggen™ situations, almost all of The Cod's fixations (and there were a lot, each one meriting their own plot), and any and all Potions class—but believe me, Snape was still an a**.
Two things before Halloween ought to be written, though: that of The Cod and Lockhart's show, and Katie's mind suddenly becoming slow, making her friendship with Harry take a great blow.
The first one, just to start and get that done: Lockhart became The Cod's greatest superstar. And vanity looked in the mirror and said: this is by far the most excellent I've ever seen—and it was thus so that our big fish became Lockhart's dauphin, prince-heir to ego and ambitions loft.
"Did you see his hair? How brilliant and soft. And he is so smart, could you ever imagine a more ingenious way to piece that feral vampire's heart?"
Katie and Leanne looked at each other in wary as The Cod went on a merry and airy description of the bloke. Already half of the school understood that Lockhart was just a big joke. But our dearest fishy friend was yet to awoke.
But they believed in the intelligence of their dear friend, and let things run naturally until their assumed end—an error that they would later have to tend.
And speaking about our now not so little Katie Bell, things went … well.
Well! Italics intended. While her friendship with our little Harry had mended, things were not always splendid. She surprised Harry by putting on a distance—one that shouldn't be there. You have to excuse our girl's inconsistence, for growing up has its fair and big share of apprehension and confusion—Leanne and The Cod's allusion to something that was not there had her in a strange spot, and this story with a pretty weird plot.
For the lot that clicked in, expecting a quick and curt and cute and cuticulously short shot at that unusual pairing, strangely sparse of tales, fear not, for I reaffirm: this is the story of our dear girl from Wales and her bespectacled pair. But it would not—not ever, not in this story—be fair, for it not be filled with its awry trails or small details that make this pair more than a silly writing dare.
Tis', again, is the story of the Seeker and the Magic Snitch; of Harry and his Golden Witch.
And though it flies away and may be lost even to the best, a good Seeker again rises up to the test through-and-through, perhaps best shown as:
"Oi, Bell, what the hell is wrong with you?"
They were coming back from a training session as he caught up to her. Her mind was in a bit of slur after expending so much strength, which perhaps was the reason that this time she didn't put him at an arm's length.
They had many a talk and many a walk together, and then they were making rounds round the castle and the lake, and suddenly almost putting their friendship at stake for one-hundred-and-fifty-points struck Katie as something quite schmuck—and to think that it was only a stroke of good luck that had it mended together …
That this luck was called Leanne and The Cod went over her like the good weather they were having on that day. And on the bay of a low window overlooking it all, there were, besides our pair, Hermione and Ron there, her with a knowing look in place and him with his face a bit queer, but nevertheless there to steer things back to right. Granted, he wasn't very bright with this kind of thing, but seeing Harry tight like a coil spring, with so much stress over that gift and over their rift gave him clues enough.
And though he may have had the emotional range of a teaspoon, over time he pieced the pieces, and soon, even he knew a little of what this author is meant to tell:
This time it was Harry Potter having a crush on our dear Katie Bell.
What Ginny would do, he did not know, but, yeah, Katie probably already had a foe—he preferred not to think too much about that, however.
Or ever!
It became a personal matter for everyone on the team when that ponce got in with our boys in green by being carried on a silver platter.
Harry was playing like a beast, not at least because he racked in a lot of shame over missing the last term's fabulously terrible game. But it seemed they all understood, regardless of the lengthy explanations by Wood, the stakes on the match against the snakes: Malfoy got in by name, and he would be giving his all to justify his claim as a Seeker for their team.
And each one now had a Nimbus-Two-Thousand-and-One! There would be no way they were going to play as they had once done. And they simply could not afford to lose against Cleansweeps and Comets on the next match.
Harry understood the grave importance of his task, and he did not need to ask what it was, even though Wood made a point to make a good impression of it, though the Chaser trio called him out for his obsession: Harry had a Snitch to catch, and very fast, while the team tried to hold on steadfast against a continuous offence bombard.
So everyone went on to train very hard, and wouldn't you believe it? It was Halloween, already!
They were totally not ready, but they let themselves enjoy a little break, still—albeit much against our dearest Quidditch captain's will!
And in the end, Katie, The Cod and Leanne enjoyed the feast with a great deal of joy and flair, although she did notice that someone—or some three!—were not there!
Nevertheless, she joined with great cheer as Prof. Flitwick led some students and a bunch of frogs to croak and crick a queer and cool version of the Hogwarts School song.
"Halloween, Halloween, hallo-weeny-Halloween!
"Fill my belly with sweets,
"Small or tall, thin or not, or really everything between,
"Food right in, everyone on their seats,
"Eating like a glutton queen!
"Don't mind the bats, they shouldn't fly low,
"Lest they fill in a dough!
"And watch your arm, my dear housemate,
"Or I'll just put it in my plate!
"And eat and bite and gnaw and lick,
"Until the white bones stick!
"But don't be scared, I'll save the skin,
"To make | a nice | cloak | for hal-low-een!"
It was good to be at Hogwarts and Katie did not envy at all those students from other places. Hogwarts had its problems but only it could make such a wonderful sea of happy faces.
But it would be attacked on that night, and that sight seemed to shook all, as people tried to gaze at the letters etched in blood in the bare wall:
'The Chamber of Secrets has been opened. Enemies of the heir, beware.'
And in front of it, with their Protagonist Spell™ on, there could only be a trio who'd stumble upon something so scary: Hon, Rermione and Hairy.
Harry tried to pretend he was too cool for school at first, thinking the worst about his schoolmates, hiding in the shadows, avoiding regions brightly lit and doing all of his usual emo sh**.
But the school had already learned its lesson with the last term's flak, and looked back on to a body of tradition, bringing back the ambition, honour and virtues of their great forebearers and their great errors.
One of the virtues that this body lends to our great Brittanic friends is that they really cared more for sport than anything of a spooky sort.
So they put on the Frame-Harry-Potter on hold until the day of the game. It was fair-play to do it after the game, but—o boy—everyone came to see that Gryffindor vs Slytherin match, and just which Seeker would manage to catch the Snitch.
It was an encounter of a titanic variety and with a heavy load of anxiety: it was our boys in green with the new broom fad against our boys and girls in red playing nice and clean, Draco Malfoy against our Harry-boy, fame against fame (but like, one is famous for their family), expensive broom against expensive broom (but like, one is 3% less fast), privilege against privilege (but like, Harry was in a year before), talent against talent (but like, Malfoy did trial, did you know that?), Lion against Snake (Godric Gryffindor never stepped foot in Africa and Slytherin lived in Ireland for all we know), of Evil™ against Good™ (Anti-Propaganda laws require me to say that Lord Malfoy donated anything between one and one-thousand galleons to charitable Muggleborn organisations over the last three years alone).
It was so exciting, that for a brief time, while I was writing, I was almost freed from that curse! But hey, there it is back again: and it came back way worse.
Self, himself, elf, herself, shelf, itself. How in the world can English have so many words and yet I have to sweat so much for a bunch of things I would rather forget!
And don't ever start me on orange! Who the hell was so smart in naming it that! It's almost like there is a spell on it, discombobulating everything with its small touch—I think it's some kind of revenge from the Dutch!
Anyway, the match: Katie played well, Harry too. That crazy Bludger was not so swell, and Wood put all his trust on Harry because—oh boy—he was in for a chew after the match. Katie herself (see!), would strangulate him if Harry hurt himself (yes!), and she only did not go further with her plan because Harry told her about the house-elf (oh, this is so ridiculous, but I just have to close this bingo), and … there … was … a shelf!
Now, because this is a cute story, sit down and hear it well, because I have the truest One True Pairing to sell. Katie heard, before she saw, as Harry came closer towards the Snitch, a sound that reverberated on the whole pitch.
And you all know this story already by heart, and know that there comes Lockhart, so I'll just focus on what you came for.
Katie Bell became irrationally angry and cranky, not only because of that lanky fraud, but rather for something odd, and particular to our dearest pair, as she looked at Lockhart with a glare.
Katie missed her hug now that Harry had lost his arm, and she was quite ready to bring harm to Lockhart's awful and ugly mug. It was late in the night when she called for him.
"Alright Cod, you have to help me spite that fraud!"
And in the battle between a friend and a person he considered great, let it never be said that a Loweland hadn't his priorities straight.
"What are we talking about? Something quick or something we can drag it out? Something vague or some kind of personal payback?"
Katie's face split into a terrifying smile.
"I want to paint that hair black."
The Cod shuddered. So simple, and yet so vile.
Notes:
"You cheeky crink!": 'crink' can be read as 'moiderer' or 'foolish'
"Bechod!": a pity, a shame, but in the truest sense of the word (as in: not sarcastically)
Thank you for reading. I appreciate any and all feedback.