Katie Bell

Dinner with George

2007-12-24T16:10:27Z

It’s two days until Christmas morning and having collected my kneazle kit from Bill, I need to get her a present. I decide to pay a visit to Diagon Alley for the afternoon, collecting the last minute Christmas goodies, and perhaps get dinner before going home. I take Kash with me and having done my shopping, and owled the last few cards and presents, I consider dropping in on the twins. It wouldn’t be Christmas without them.

I head to the joke shop cradling Akasha against my chest. "Alright Troubles, I know you're here somewhere, I don't have time to play games so come be sociable!" I announce.

"Well fancy that," says one of them, his bum seated on the counter. "Was just gonna hunt you down."

"Come on, then, let’s go hunt, only not me, lets hunt food, Kash and I are hungry, and I've got news. I think I need a hug." I tell him, not sure yet which one it is.

"Fancy that, so do I!" he says and jumps off the counter. "Callin' the clone down, right?
Hold on a mo and then we can go." I watch as he picks up a rubber duck and talks into it. Then a moment later, the other twin shows up and he smacks him on the back. "Ta, clone! Back in...Pads, Kippers, how long we gonna be gone for?"

I look at him with the expression I've used many times. Usually when he expects me to predict something unpredictable, much as he has now. "Do I look like Trelawny? Don't answer that. We'll be gone as long as it takes to get me fed, longer if you hold me up any."

"Hold you up? Moi?" He looks aghast. "See you in a bit, then," he says to his brother and hooks his arm in mine.

Akasha hisses at this sudden unannounced contacted and swipes at him. "Oh hush Kash, he's alright, I've done worse to him trust me." I tell her shifting her more to my free side to prevent anymore kit-swipes at one of my best friends. "The other one not joining us then?"

"Nah. Trudes' gone home and he figures I need to get out more. Don't know whatever for."

"May I at least know which one I'm dealing with?" I ask as I shrug and lead him out of the store, trying to decide where would be best for food.

"Oh, you'll figure it out soon enough on your own, I'd wager," he says in a casual voice, swinging my hand in his as we walk down the alley. I won't figure it out, I know I won't. I never can with the twins. I can tell them appart but that's not the same as knowing which is which.

"Where do you want to go then?"

"Dunno. This is your ride, I'm just on it."

"Bloody help you are." I lead the way to The Leaky Cauldron. Always faithful. I shiver slightly and speed up. "Oh, Fred, George which ever you are, meet Akasha. Bill gave her to me for my Birthday, I collected her today." I remember the kit I'm still cuddling. I think I've been very good. I haven't cooed at her at all yet...well...not much.

"Well well well, if it ain't a little kneazling! They're supposed to sense trouble, ya know. I think yours must be broken. Hasn't tried to get rid of me yet."

I yelp and glare at him. "Mine isn’t broken!” I protest, “They sense untrustworthy people, you're safe enough, besides, she's just a baby, with a liking for shoe laces it seems so be careful." I warn him, glancing down, the ends of my bootlaces have already been attacked several times.

"She'll get quite the surprise in my bootstraps," he says, looking down at his own. "Never underestimate us twins. So what's got you needin' a hug, then?"

"Snape." I answer simply as I push open the door to the Leaky and hurry inside, summoning the dinner menus to us as we find a table.

"What's that walking zit done now?"

"Hit on me."

To my horror he laughs. He actually laughs, and then he squeezes my shoulders. "That's the most rediculously disgusting thing I've heard of. Did you leave 'im anything or did you hex it all off?"

I shudder, "Halloween I was at The Crystal Chamber when the Lestrange trio attacked, I've seen him in action, I'm not fool enough to open hostilities. Though I was tempted when he grabbed my arm. Seemed to think having established I thought he was guilty was a great time to ask me out." It was ironically appauling timing though thinking about it in such a way is making me depressed, hardly Christmas cheer, "but I found a far more entertaining way to shake him off." I explain, scanning the menu briefly.

"Ooo, do tell," he urges, knicking my boots under the table. "I always do love a good Snape razzing story."

"You know the rumours he could read minds. They're true. I decided if he could read minds and he was going to try reading mine I'd give him something worth seeing to teach him not to snoop around again." I say with a wicked grin setting my kit down in my lap where she curls up at once going to sleep with a heavy purring.

The twin, whichever he is, leans his elbows on the counter and looks at me with keen interest. "Yeeees? Whatever could our Kippary show ol' Several Snipes to get 'im to leave off, I wonder."

"My one nighter. In full technicolour. I didn't think, I should have added audio and sensory as well but I only thought as far as what I saw, would be what he saw." I smile innocently, "Decided what you want to eat yet?"

"Roast," he says. "So, to get somebody off your bum, you play a sex scene for 'em? Not quite the deterant I woulda thunk. Ususally you think somebody grabbin' your bum's gonna be thinkin' on sex, not run off by it."

"He was no where near my bum thank you very much, and maybe a sex scene would encourage him had it not been from my pov, think about what I would have seen...what he would have seen through me. Another wizard looming over him?"

His laugh is a loud bark at this. "Right, gotcha now! S'pose I was thinkin' more on memories than mind-readin'." Then he quietens for a moment and snickers again. "Right, and by arm you meant arm, not bum. Selective hearin' on my part. Soz."

"Now I'm confused, I thought you were George, but it's a very Fred-like trick to confuse arm with bum when talking about a witch my age." I say, "I'll be back I'm just going to order our food. Look after Kash." I hand my kit over to him, "What do you want to drink?"

He takes her in his arms and promptly starts scratching her stomach. "Cider, I'm thinkin'. Nice and Christmassy."

I grin and make my way to the bar knowing Kash is in good hands. I order our food and drinks and make my way back to find her still being cuddled and petted and cooed at even more than I did. "It's on its way."

"Excellent." He looks down at the kit and wrinkles his nose. "What say, Kneazling. You wanna go back to Kit Kat, or you stayin here with me?" My little kit meows loudly and I look to whichever twin he is for a translation.

"So what's new? You said you had something to tell me."

"Well, s'pose you could say it's evidence that there's one thing clone and I'll never share," he says, burying his face in Kash's stomach and nuzzling his nose into her fur.

I grin, "So, you tried a double date...and it didn't work out, you feeling okay, George?"

He shudders. "Was horrible. But Fred had a good time, at least. Just hope they didn't get offended, if ya know what I mean."

"I'm sure they'll understand. Even if you prefered girls your own age or younger, some guys are just too private to do that, even with twins. Fred's just a shameless jackrabbit." I reassure him, muttering the last part with a good natured humour.

George sniggers. "Rest assured, Kiggles, it was the girl. I imagine kissin' her was like you kissin' an old bloke. Wrong, awkward, and downright squicky."

I pull a face, "You have to give me the most enjoyable images to work my way through, why couldn't you suggest kissing someone nice and hunky like some of those muggle actors."

"Because it wasn't like that. Believe you me, if that was the image I'd put in your head as example, I wouldn't feel like I gotta soak in essense of murtlap every couple seconds."

"Why? What was wrong?" I never understand alot of wizarding phrases. Add to that the natural confusion felt by anyone talking to the twins and I'm totally lost

"Just like I said! What's so gross about you kissin' an oldie moldy?"

"The fact they're old enough to be my father usually, but those girls couldn’t be your daughters!"

"Nah, not at all. But there's nothin' wrong with it, eh? If it was the same bloke your age, you'd be right fine with it. Just like if those girls'd been about twenty years older, I woulda been fine with it. It makes as much sense for you to be grossed out by an old codger than it does for me to be grossed out by a lovely my age."

I shake my head and laugh as a waitress brings our dinner and drinks. Kash automatically starts squirming in George's hands at the smell of hot food. I can't say I blame her.

"Hey now, Squirmy McSquirmskins," he says, tickling her stomach. "You keep squirmin, and I just might not feed you my scraps after all. How d'you like that?"

She settles down almost at once. "I swear they can understand English....or twin-ish. 'Squrimy McSquirmskins?"

"You don't like it?" he asks, wide-eyed.

"Not saying I don't, it sorta fits her. Just don't feed her too much or she'll bust and poop everywhere, and nothing too rich or she'll bust and throw up everywhere." I tell him in a tone as if discussing my cats digestive tract was natural over dinner.

He laughs. "Somebody tellin' me not to do something? Oh Kiggles, I thought you knew me!"

"I do, I know you'd never endanger a kits health just to spite someone being bossy." I counter sticking my tongue out at him before spearing a chip on my fork.

He rips off a piece of roast with his bare hands and pops it in his mouth. "I wonder what older twins'd be like," he says and holds his fingers out for Kash to lick.

I frown and then grin, "I almost forgot who I was talking to then, was about to remind you that civilised people use knives and forks."

He scoffs and tears off another nibble. "'Sides that, it's safer for your kneazling. Knives and forks is dangerous, dontcha know."

I cut into my food with my own knife and smile, I should have known Kash would like George, as wicked and mischievious as the twins go. "I thought the only danger was me spoiling her, but looks like she's got you wrapped round her little finger...if she had one."

Kash has taken hold of George's hand and is licking vigorously at one of his fingers. "I'd say she's got one," he notes and taps her on the tip of her nose with said finger.

I roll my eyes and suddenly remember how hungry I am and continue eating. I'm quite impressed with what I got done today despite being 'kidnapped' by George. "I say seems more like I kidnapped you this time." I comment, "You're losing your touch."

"The early bird catches the Weasley," he says, dangling a scrap of roast just out of Kash's reach. "And 'sides, this isn't a sleepover!"

"Don't torment her. She's got sharp claws and a big brain." I warn just before the little kit gives up swiping at the out of reach meat and makes a lunge for his arm lower down where she can reach, gripping tightly with two sets of claws trying to pull his arm towards her. "Got Christmas sorted yet or are you leaving everything to the last minute as usual?"

"Takes after her uncle Gredge, she does," he says. "Sharp claws and big brains. And Christmas is a trick. With Mum and Dad off Marauders know where, it's anybody's guess. All I know's that Fredgie'n I'll be spendin' it together. Been workin' on a few new carols, too. You?"

"Everything bought and wrapped, cards written, ready to be owled. Dinner all planned, and ready to cook." I list off the things I’ve done whilst making a mental list of things yet to do. Like the actual cooking. I owled the cards and presents earlier today except those which had to go further than Diagon Alley which were owled last week.

"What'd you get me, eh?" he asks, eyes twinkling and a mischievous grin on his face.

"Like I'm going to tell you. You'll have to wait until Christmas. I sent the owl this morning, it has all of about fifty feet to fly from the owlpost." I say, giving him a friendly nudge under the table

He nudges me back and sticks his tongue out. "But I wanna knoooooooow," he whines, making a bloody great show of it, wriggling in his seat.

Kash squeaks in protest at her cushion moving so much and decides to jump onto the table where she has a more stable footing and better access to food. "Tough."

George crosses his arms and pouts. "Meanie," he says. "Well fine then. I didn't wanna know anyway."

"You'll find out all in good time." I reassure him and scoop Kash up before she steals away with his dinner. "Nice try missy,"

"You callin' me Missy?"

"Her not you." I grumble giving him another playful kick and feeding my kit a sliver of fish. He just gives me a cheeky grin and reaches over to tickle Kash on her stomach again.

"I have this horrible feeling your brother is beginning to understand me. When in doubt cute things always win." I tell him, as Kash rears on her hind legs in an attempt to swat him away, only exposing her belly for him more.

"You always were a sucker for the cute," he agrees. "That's why I know you're gonna loooooove your pressie."

"Probably why I got stuck with you Georgie, that innocent 'what did I do?' expression. Whatcha get me?" I ask, grinning.

"I'm not tellin' if you're not," he says, wagging his finger at me.

I pout and finish off the last of my fish and chips by feeding a few flakes of fish to Kash. "Pretty please?" I ask in my cutesyest voice.

"You're gonna have to wa-ait!" he sings, tapping my boot with his under the table. I suppose I should have expected it having refused to tell him what his gift is. Though I doubt he’d have told me even if I’d told him first.

"Meanie," I tease, sitting back and relaxing with a full stomach. Despite Kash's size she's still sniffing for scraps off George's plate. "Piggie, you'll pop!" I tell her sternly.

"You shoulda called 'er Ronda," he says, "the way she's goin' after my scraps."

"She's just a baby, she hasn't discovered yet that her stomach has a limited capacity. She'll regret it when she's too full to move." I say tickling her. "I'm beginning to wonder what Quaffle thinks about her. So far he’s just watched her with the same considering gaze he gave that pygmy puff I bought off you. Considering whether or not it’s worth eating."

He picks up the kit and sets her on top of his head. "Dunno."

I squeak with concern. "If she falls, I'll bounce you on your head," I warn him, getting ready to catch her at the first sign of a wobble. She jumps from his head down to his shoulder and weaves behind his head to his other shoulder, her tail curling around to his opposite ear.

"She's a kneazle. You understimate their balance."

"She's a kit, their balance hasn't always been established until they're a little older." I smile, she looks comfy, and no doubt she will now go to sleep with the full stomach she has on her.

"But a kit's gotta learn somewheres. Kits are curious for a reason. She's gonna find out her limits and what better place than on my shoulders?"

I sigh, relenting and glance at my watch. "Unfortuntely I should be getting her home. I have notes to work on for Bill."

"Ah, Billium, Billium," he sighs. "Keepin' my Kippary from me. Well, s'pose I should be gettin' some work done on a little project anywho."

"You know they can't part us for long." I say dramatically.

"Not if I've got anything to say about it." Kash finds the end of George's shoulder and starts kneeding it with relish, her purrs loud. George leans his head against her side and grins.

"I don't think I'll be the only one to miss you." I tell him as she purrs loudly in his ear.
"I got you both smitten," he says. "Kashi the Smitten Kitten."

“Yes well this Smitten Kitten is going home.” I say with a yawn, “I have promises to keep and miles to go before I sleep.” I quote from an old poem, scooping Kash out of his arms and tucking her into my jacket so she’ll be warm.

We pay for our meals and walk back to WWW. I stay briefly to see both twins together, give them both big Christmas hugs and promise to see them soon. Then I Apparate home to the warmth and the smell of freshly baked mincepies.

Christmas Shopping

2007-12-12T23:46:39Z

With the recent detatchment from my family Christmas shopping this year is blissfully light, still it has to be done and no sense in waiting until the last minute. As always, where the normal shops fail miserably, the Christmas market provides that Yuletide feeling. Wrapped up warm in my calf-length winter coat, matching earmuffs, gloves and scarf, I make my way between the stalls enjoying the atmosphere. Stalls selling gifts, craft goods, hot food and drink.

Although it isn't late, it's winter and darkness comes quickly. This just adds to the affect however, with christmas lights strung across the street, between each lamppost. I consider the people I want to get gifts for, stopping to buy freshly made crepes filled with chocolate spread and a mug of hot cocoa.

The twins are easy. One of the stalls sell muggle games, incluing variety boxes of practical jokes. I buy one each, making sure each box has different contents to the other. For pureblood wizards, even blood-tolerant ones, they're terribly curious about the muggle world, and considering their love of practical jokes, a muggle joke selection will be perfect for them. Bill is a little more difficult to buy for, but coming across a stall selling various alcohols I settle on a selection of whiskey miniatures and a tumbler with his name hand-engraved on the side.

Each item I discreetly shrink and bubble protect the glass to prevent breakage before slipping it into my bag. Next I stop to purchase cards and wrapping paper. This has to be one of my favourite parts of Christmas. Seeing a book on muggle sports I remember Alisdair's obsession and decide I've found the perfect gift for my favourite Magpie, and the only one I intend buying a gift for.

The final gift is for my Landlady. She's very difficult to buy for. Despite being elderly she's not the typical old lady. Maybe it's odd buying something for a landlady, or landlord, but Maggie is as good as family...or better in my case. One thing I do know if I can find something suitable, Maggie loves cats, much like myself. She was delighted to hear I was getting a 'kitten'.

A few stalls later I see the perfect gift once again. This is definately why I prefer the Christmas market to street stores. I purchase the cat shaped series of hand-painted Russian dolls, a sequence of 6 wooden carved cats increasing in size until each fits into the next size up. Maggie loves cats, and she loves models and things.

Deciding I'm done for the shopping part I head home quickly, feeling the growing need to get into the warm. Tonight I think I will make hot chocolate, put my christmas cds on, and write the cards, possibly wrap the presents as well before arranging for the Owl Post to deliver them in time for Christmas. I know Quaffle will sulk, but it would spoil the surprise of who the gift was from if it was delivered by a known owl. Besides, the box of owl treats I bought for him should stop the sulks.

Summoned to work...

2007-11-28T01:25:11Z

I knock on Mr Weasley's office door. I did not want to recieve the summons I got to arrive early for work. Still, work is work so I arrive an hour early as requested. Why should today be any different to every other day? Tomorrow I turn 21, but I haven't really celebrated since I was little. We'd have fun at Hogwarts but then we had fun every day. Recent years however there's no Alicia, no Angelina, and no twins. No reason to make this day any different to the other three hundred and sixty four days every year.

It sounds like quite a depressing way of thinking about it, but it doesn't feel depressing. Just because this day is like all the others doesn't mean I can't enjoy it. Although getting called into work an hour earlier certainly puts a downer on things.

"Come in." I hear Bill call and push the door open.

"You wanted to see me Boss?" I ask with a mock salute, I love being able to have fun at work as well as being serious.

"Did you really think you could get away with this? Why didn't you tell me ahead of time? I had to learn it from your records. Do we ever need to work on our communications skills! What do you have to say for yourself? The explanation better be a good one!" Mr. Weasley says testily

I sit and listen in silence, I can't really object to anything he's saying until I know what I've done, and it's best not to interupt when the full moon was less than a week ago. He seems to get a bit cranky. "Yes Sir, sorry, it won't happen again." I assure him, apparently too soon as he continues his tirade.

He reaches into his desk drawer and pulls out and evelope wth a Gringott's seal on the back. "Go ahead and open it! and tell me what you think of that!" He snaps.

I open it and stare at the contents before looking back at him. Inside the evelope was a card that says, "On behalf of your Employer and the Training Staff, We wish you many Happy Returns of The Day of Birth. You are directed to take the 28th and 29th off with pay to celebrate the day appropriately."

Mr. Weasley laughs. "Happy Birthday tomorow Katie. Tell me, do you like Kneazle-crosses?"

I sit looking a little stunned, also a little suspicious, not quite trusting my own ears. "Thank you, Boss." I smile. Now I'm not in trouble I can go back to calling him 'Boss' jokingly, instead of 'Sir' seriously. "Um, yeh..."

He reaches down and lifts up a covered basket. Inside the basket is a mother kneazle and her six kits. "If you'd like one of Sucre and Fillius' babies, you can have the pick of the litter. Please point to the baby and I'll hand it to you. Sucre doesn't like strangers, come to fact she only tolerates me, " he says with a grin.

I gape at the small bundles of fluff. "I can have one?" I look into the basket, three of them are orange tabby, three silver tabby. "Seriously?"

"If you want it, yes. But you can't take it home till 7 December; they will be 8 weeks old then. But you can choose one now, though." He says

"Can I have one of the silver ones please?" I ask, pointing out one with green eyes.

He picks it up and lifts it's tail. "If she gets along with you, she's yours with our blessing." Mr. Weasley says as he hands her to me.

I hold her gently against me, supporting her with one hand under her bum, the other guarding incase she decides to twist round and take a nose dive to the floor. "Hey little one, it's okay, I gotcha you're safe." I tell her in the tone of voice most people use for young children. I feel sharp little claws dig at me through my robe as she tries to climb a little way up, though she's not really big enough yet to go far. Then she opens her mouth and squeaks.

I see Sucre shift in the basket, eyeing me with obvious, undisguised contempt. "It's alright, Mama. Your little one's safe." I reassure her, carefully holding the kit out for her to inspect.

"Happy Birthday again, Katie. I'll talk to Fleur; I'd like to invite you over to our home so you can pick up, your baby and meet my family." Mr. Weasley said.

"I'd like that. I'll see you on the 30th, Boss." I grin giving my kit a final scratch behind the ears before placing her back in the basket with her Mum. "Oh, and Happy Birthday for the 29th."

I'd never thought about it before but it's quite odd having my birthday the day before Mr Weasley's. Now, what to do with my day off...I think perhaps a visit to the twins would be appropriate.

Lunch with Megan

2007-11-16T22:33:04Z

Bill and I've been working hard this morning, mostly classroom work but still difficult, especially so as it takes twice as long as anything from a book to sink in for me. Mr Weasley must think I'm stupid, he's a natural bookworm so he finds that side of things easy. Now however, it's my lunch break, and after such a frustrating morning of making slow progress I decided sitting and socialising with Goblins while I ate was not in my best interests.

I push open the door to the Leaky Cauldron and decide, judging by the crowd at the bar, it'd be faster to summon the list of sandwiches and lunch options than wait to reach the front of the crowd. I make my choice, place my order and look for somewhere to sit while I wait. In one corner I recognise a familiar face, and make my way over.

"Megan, hi! Can I sit here or are you busy?" I ask, considering I hadn't seen her since school and I didn't know her at all really, we got on really well at our karaoke night.

"Take a seat," she smiles and motions to the chair across from her.

I sit down, smiling back at her, "How have you been?"

"I've been well. You?" she asks, a slight mischievous look in her eye.

I frown slightly, puzzled by her expression. "Yeh I've been good, working hard as usual, what with the karaoke night and Puff Party...well, most of that weekend resulted in a late night so I decided to keep my head down to avoid Mr Weasley's disapproving expression. Honestly, it's worse than if he'd yell or something I feel like I'm back at school." I grin to show I'm joking. We both complain about working together, but it's never serious. Oddly enough it's like working with a more restrained and dignified Weasley twin, not surprising really, but he has the same sense of humour I've discovered.

"I doubt it is that bad. You did have quite a weekend though."

"Yeh," I agree, still puzzled. Something tells me she knows more than I think she does. "I had planned for Sunday to be an early night but things got in the way."

Megan tries to hide a small laugh, but fails. "I can believe it."

"Okay, what's going on? You've been looking at me funny since I got here. Did Bill turn my hair pink again?" I ask laughing with her. I like Megan, I don't normally find it easy to relax around people I don't know so well, but for some reason I feel like I've known her for ages.

"I know what happened on Sunday," she answers with a small shrug, still smiling.

My mind flicks back to Sunday night trying to work out how much she can know and whether I'm going to regret any of it later. Nope...seems clear enough...wait a minute..."How?"

"I'm rooming with the twins."

"Fair enough, I guess that means you saw or heard something...or everything. It's just a Gryff tradition. You could have come joined us." I tell her, "After all I got to join the Puff Party." Although this wasn't really a party, if anything it was a little morbid what with George's break up and all...probably best she joined us on a happier occasion.

"I was curious, though I have to admit waking up and finding the three of you was probably the most interesting part."

I groan remembering how I'd woken up the following morning. Still sitting in George's lap, his teeth clamped into my pyjama top, Fred wedged in so tight behind me I couldn't move. None of us could, and at that time in the morning it took quite a while for any of us to gather enough coherent thought to enlarge the chair so we could get free.

"I'm pretty sure the kidnapping was the most interesting part. Anyway forget about that, what are you doing here? Lunch break? How have you been since I last saw you?"

Kidnapped!

2007-11-12T00:37:55Z

It's been a long day. Too long. After I got home from work I spent quite a while going through spells, inscriptions, translations and calculations until my brain ached and my stomach complained. I got some food and went back to work. Now I'm tired, I'm going to bed, and work can wait until the morning. I strip off, shivering slightly at the sudden rush of cold air, tugging my pyjamas before collecting my wash things to go to the bathroom. I frown slightly, my pyjamas are thick fleecy ones at this time of year, and it's still cold in my room.

Suddenly I hear what sounds like a rustling breeze and the light on my walls from my lamp seems to throb for the smallest second. It could be nothing, maybe a brownout (Maggie's wiring is quite old, after all), but if there's one thing I've learned from the DA and my training as a cursebreaker, it's never to expect something is an innocent coincidence.

I pick my wand up carefully. Knowing me I just left my window open, it wouldn't be the first time. I turn around to check it. Bloody hell, I could have sworn I shut it earlier. I scan the room and carefully step toward the window, intent on closing it. The air whispers through the room and I keep my wand raised.

Only it doesn't seem to be in my hands anymore! I clasp my hand tight and look down just as my wand hits the floor. Then I scan the room again. I know I'm a little accident prone, but I doubt that was just me dropping a wand. Somebody's here.

Not just somebody...a magical somebody, no muggle could hide like that. Keeping my eyes up I pick up my wand and move away from the window, this time towards the door. Whoever they are they are not getting downstairs to Maggie! "Stop playing games, it isn't clever and it isn't scary. Show yourself!" I try to make my voice sound brave...yeh...not working!

And then my wand drops again! I curse and stoop to pick it up, but it's rolling away from me. I know Maggie's house is old, but the floor's not that slanted! I crouch on the floor and creep along after it, then lunge for it, but at that instant, it's snatched away. Almost too quick to see, but that was definitely a hand!

Great wandless now...I back up until I'm pressed against my bedroom door, fists bunched infront of me. I should just Disapparate, but I can't leave Maggie defensless downstairs. These are magical intruders so they're here because of me. My fault...so I'm not leaving an elderly muggle lady defensless downstairs.

I open my mouth to call out to the intruders again, but my words only come out muffled. Merlin's hat, how'd that hand get over my mouth? When'd they sneak up on me?!

By basic anatomy a hand has to be connected to a wrist. Sure enough, so's this one. I grab it with both hands, forcing it off me and twisting hard. I hear a comical pop, like a cork-gun, and the wrist comes free in my hand. I yelp and drop it onto the ground, then kick it away.

Damnit! Frustrated, I move forward fists up ready to hit anything that moves. As soon as I'm away from the door I know it was a mistake...at least by the door they couldn't get behind me but now...I turn uneasily trying to keep my whole room in sight.

Sure enough, it was a mistake and I feel another hand clamp over my mouth and a second and...third...? take hold of my wrists.

I try to scream but any sound is muffled by the hand over my mouth and the grip on my wrists, while it isn't painful, I can't get free. I kick up and backwards with my strongest, right leg until I connect with something, at the same time biting down on the hand over my mouth. If they want me so bad they can bloody well hurt for it!

The hand flies away, only to be replaced by a fourth. How many hands are there?! I turn to look behind me, expecting the hand to force me to look forward, but instead am allowed. A man's face smiles at me only...it's the most generic face I've ever seen! If I had to describe him, I couldn't really find any words to use besides...well...normal. I turn back to face the front and see another smiling generic man's face and I'd say they look exactly alike, but they're so generic, they could look like anybody and get lost in a crowd.

I give up trying to fight, whoever they are the more I fight the more annoyed they'll be...I'm starting to feel sick now...What's going to happen to me now? I hear a small voice in my head whimper. I want to cry...bloody hell I'm not going to! I push backwards with all my weight, slamming the man behind me against the door. I feel the air knocked out of my lungs so I'm guessing he must be winded too.

The hand over my mouth lets go and I turn back to see the man coughing, doubled over. Then he hops up, still grinning, as if nothing happened, and takes hold of my bound wrists. Wait! When did they get tied?! I look around for the other man, but he's disappeared again, and then the world around me spins as I'm soaring through the air and settled onto the shoulders of...one of them.

I swear fluently, and rather loudly. I have two options now. 1) keep fighting and risk being dropped with no hands to save myself...if it's possible to keep fighting in a fireman's lift. Or 2) Give up and let them take me. While logically number 1 is the better option, my fear of falling prevents me from further objections.

I do have to say, for kidnapping, it's quite comfortable, I think as I feel myself gliding five feet over the ground toward the open window. When we reach the sill, I'm turned around to be allowed on last look at my room before I feel the cold air drape over me like a blanket. I look down and yelp, clinging tight to the shoulders I'm riding. Then I feel the strain of ropes securing me to my kidnapper.

Even though the ropes should stop me from falling, I still can't look down. I close my eyes, fighting back a whimper. I can only hope that Mr Weasley will do something when he realises I'm not coming to work...possibly ever again...

I think we've reached the ground now, but I still can't open my eyes. All I know is that we're moving swiftly, I can tell by the wind in my hair. But it doesn't feel like we're running, at least not that I can tell. A running person should bob up and down, but this feels more like flying. Oh Merlin, we're not on a broom, are we?!

I force myself to open my eyes...yes...we're on a broom...that's okay, brooms I can handle. Being kidnapped I can't, but brooms are fine. I restrain the urge to squirm, I really DON'T want to fall now. I really want to cry now. Worst of all, work are really the only ones who'll miss me. I haven't seen my friends frequently enough, by the time Alicia or the twins realise something's wrong it'll be too late.

I watch the city below me and then notice we're coming up on Diagon Alley. Very slowly, we start to spiral down, the circling getting smaller and faster until suddenly it feels like we're spinning and then with a pop, I feel the familiar sucking of apparition followed by darkness.

The ropes suddenly disappear and I'm dropped somewhere very soft. I strain to see where I am, but it's pitch black. Then, all at once, a warm fire lights and a cozy library comes into view, along with two very familiar faces. "Ahh...home sweet home," says one twin, stretching his feet out and grinning like a cheshire cat.

I jump to my feet, inches away from hitting him. "YOU BASTARDS! YOU SCHEMING LOW LIFE SONNUVA...GIVE ME MY WAND BACK! I'M GOING TO KILL YOU!"

"Whaddya mean give it back to you?" the other asks, his eyes wide and innocent looking.

I growl in annoyance and turn on him, slamming my fists into his chest. "You...This...is beyond a joke! Have you ANY idea how...argh!"

He coughs and I feel the other one close his hand on my wrist pulling me away gently. "Now then, don't know as that's called for," the twin gripping my wrist says. "Did we hurt you?"

I glare at him, I hate when he uses that tone. I try to tug free of his grip. "You kidnapped me! You...do you have any idea how scary that was?! To not even be safe in your own home?!" I demand...I can feel the tears from earlier coming back...it hits me about the same time as the realisation that I'm safe...the two combined are too much. I drop to the floor, hugging my knees, face buried against my arm, trying to cry quietly. I don’t want them to see.

Escaping the consequences...

2007-11-08T15:46:49Z

I smile as I wake slowly, peacefully. No screaming, no terror, no pain. No nightmares just...I groan, instantly losing my smile as the reality of last night comes back in a flood of memories which make me blush. What was I thinking?! The answer is quite clearly, I wasn't. I've only ever been close enough to a Wizard to do that once before, and that ended badly before we did anything. After that I swore to myself plain and simple, never again. There was no point wasting time and effort getting to know a guy, learning to trust him, only to be stabbed in the back the first opportunity he gets.

So what do I do? Skip getting to know him, learning to trust him, just jump straight into bed. I'm not that sort of witch...at least I didn't think I was.

I don't want a relationship, with any Wizard. Certainly not one I only meet by chance the night before and do...I groan again. I really didn't think I was that kind of Witch. The kind who sleeps with a Wizard on first meeting, and then dumps him before he can smile and say 'Good morning.' I guess I am just like that though...a witch and a bitch.

Damnit, I sigh. Prentending to be asleep isn't going to solve anything. I open my eyes. I'm alone. Where the devil is he? I swing my legs out of bed, my cheeks growing warm remembering what he'd said last night. Love long legs on a witch.

I push the thought out of my mind, pulling on my dressing gown to check around the rest of the flat incase he got lost on his way to the loo or something. He's not here. Relief floods through my mind. The only witness to last night's...events, is gone, and I have no way of tracing him. So it's not my responcibility to trace him. If he wants to continue what we started he has to find me, by which time I will have thought of a good excuse as to why exactly we can't continue...or better yet moved house and chosen a different club to haunt so he can't find me.

I frown, feeling slightly guilty about this. It feels like running away. It is running away, but he ran away first thank Merlin!

This settled in my mind I let myself relax and think about what actually happened last night. I find myself starting to grin. Of course it wasn't how I imagined my first time would be, but when one is sworn against relationships forever that makes it a little impossible. Damn, it was good though. Great even.

I take longer in the shower than normal just enjoying the warmth before getting out and quickly get ready to go to work, still grinning to myself. Strange the path fate leads us down on occasions.

A night of firsts...

2007-11-07T22:38:01Z

Training with Bill is fun, and it keeps me from thinking about Halloween, but it's hard work. Now however, I have the night off, and while I'll regret the late night when morning comes and I'm exhausted, I intend to enjoy it for the present. Especially after the last time...I shiver, remembering the flash of green that brought an end to the dancing of one young man standing just next to me. It took a lot of self persuation to convince myself to go out so soon but this isn't Halloween, and this isn't the Crystal Chamber. I refuse to let terrorists scare me away from the things I enjoy.

Ordering my drink, sparkling mineral water, I perform the usual discreet charm on the neck of the bottle to avoid any potions or other such things being slipped into it. I shouldn't have ordered the drink though, I realise as the song changes. It's one of my favourites. One of the ones I can't resist dancing too, even if I do look like an idiot doing it. Although when everyone else is dancing too no one is going to notice. I leave my drink on the bar and head back to the dance floor, hopefully the bottle will still be there once the song is finished and I won't have wasted my money...and hopefully this song will help me relax.

I notice the usual crowd gathering, witches and wizards who all clearly enjoy the same song. Each face could have been a face at Crystal Chamber. No. I'm going to enjoy tonight, I'm not going to think about what happened, or what might have happened. I look again and see each face more clearly, they're not the witches and wizards from Crystal Chamber. No doubt they all know of the events, probably why this place is a little quieter than usual, but they weren't there. They didn't get killed or see their friends killed. People did die, but that's another place, another time, and instead of escaping one for another, I'm stuck between the two.

Memories of old friends

2007-11-03T15:59:27Z

I remember standing waiting for the sorting hat to process my year. For some reason I wasn’t particularly nervous as a lot of students were. I’d met a young witch named Leanne on the train. We’d laughed away the nerves until it was too late to be worried. Especially for myself being a B-name, and therefore quite early in the alphabetical sorting.

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I made my way to the Gryffindor table and then the nerves set in. What if they don’t like me? I hesitated looking for somewhere to sit and I felt someone grip my wrist and I was tugged into a seat next to a red-haired second year.

“Welcome to Hogwarts, little witch.” The red-haired Wizard sitting to my right grins at me wickedly. I bite my lip nervously wondering what he wants.

“We’re the Weasley...” I jump as the person on my left starts talking.

“...twins.” The first wizard finishes the sentence.

I turn between them feeling slightly startled. Yup, they’re twins. Identical twins.

“Fred, George, stop terrorizing her.” A voice booms with good humour from down the table. I look up and my mouth drops open. Oh my...He’s an angel... I think, going bright red.

Fred...or George, I’m not sure which, reaches a hand under my chin, pushing upwards gently, and I close my mouth, shaking the thought from my head.

“We were just being friendly, Charlie!” One of the twins complains with an expression of mock offense.

“You were scaring her.” Another voice pipes up, female this time, standing behind me. She slaps the twins on my right on the arm gently indicating for him to shuffle up and make space. She slides onto the bench between us and turns to smile at me.

“Alicia,” She smiles and I feel myself relax. I like her already. “Muggleborn?”

I nod, wordlessly. I’m never very good talking to strangers.

“How did you know?!” The twin on my left slings his arm around my shoulder, and I immediately turn my attention to my food. “Was it the ‘unicorn in the wand-light’ expression?” He asks, and I feel him tug gently on my hair. Automatically I swat the hand away without thinking, hoping only that he isn’t offended, but he doesn’t take his arm from around my shoulder, so maybe I’m okay still.

“Or the lack of resistance to Charlie’s charm?” The other suggests from Alicia’s other side. The way he says ‘charm’ makes me stop mid-mouthful.

“He...he spelled me?!” I squeak through a mouthful of food, promptly starting to cough as I inhale a pea.

The twin with his arm around my shoulder pats my back until I’ve recovered enough to breathe again, and hands me my goblet of juice.

“Steady there, witchlet.” He says with a grin. I frown; I don’t like being called witchlet just because I’m smaller and younger than he is.

Alicia is not smiling. “Now look what you did.” She snaps at him, placing a reassuring hand on my arm. “No, he didn’t spell you. They just meant charm as in good looks, chivalry,”

“Valour,” adds one twin.

“Charisma,” the other prompts.

Her eyes flash in annoyance at the twins and then turn gentle as she looks back at me. “Not to mention that our Quidditch Captain’s got an ass that’s to die for!” She winks. I can feel myself blushing and hear the twins whoop with laughter. I bow my head over my dinner ignoring their chants. Glancing over at Charlie I can see he's bent over his dinner with as much enthusiasm as I am, his ears going bright red. He must have heard. I glare at the twins and vow revenge...somehow...before returning my attention to my food.

I can’t help but smile. I’m not sure what I’ve got myself into here. For one it looks like I’ve got my first crush, how inconvenient. I hope I get over it soon, especially as something tells me the twins aren’t going to let me forget this night for sometime.

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And they haven’t. The gits. That night is commonly known as the pea-incident. Any reference to it makes me go bright red, and I feel like I’m back at the Gryffindor table in my first year even now nearly 10 years later. Still, Alicia had rescued me several times that night when I felt overwhelmed by the twins’ joie de vivre, and she had become a great friend over the years despite the year’s age gap.

All three of them did really but Alicia was the one who helped me when I was stuck on some homework. The one I could gossip with about my current crush, or relieve tension by bitching about the Slytherins, and Snape...and the Slytherin’s...or Snape or even on one occasion in my first year Percy Weasley, when he'd been responcible for me getting detention with Professor McGonagal. Of course it wasn't the only time I got detention, but Percy never told on me again.

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"You...you WEASEL! I just got out of detention with McGonagal because of you! If you ever tattle on me again..."

Despite Percy (yet another Weasley) being three years older than me he appears to take a step back before regaining his composure. "If you insist on breaking school rules..."

My hand whips out before I realise what I'm doing and Percy has to duck to avoid the book thrown at his head. I jump as it hits the wall behind him with a thud and drops to the floor. If going into the forest got me dentention, attacking another student will get me expelled.

Percy glares at me, his face white and stalks off. Probably to tattle on me again, I sigh. I catch a glance of two more redhaired wizards following him out of the portrait hole and gripping him by an arm each. Why on earth would the twins... Never mind, I've got more important things to worry about now.

"Hey, Katie isn't it?" I turn hearing my name, to see another book being aimed at me. With a yelp my hands shoot up automatically to catch it. I do. "Not bad...if you can control that temper make sure you come to the try-outs at the start of next year. You'd make a fair Chaser."

I've seen enough Quidditch by now to understand how it works. Especially when I go to the practices with Alicia, another Chaser, and Fred and George both Beaters, who are all second years now and able to participate even if, like Alicia who plays in the reserves.

"But I missed him." I argue lamely. By now Oliver Wood, the teams Keeper knows me well enough through Alicia and the twins that I don't mind talking to him, even if I do feel a little nervous. Of course it doesn't help that he's fast becoming my second ever crush after Charlie Weasley.

"Quidditch hoops don't usually duck." He points out, picking up his bags to head to the library. I can't wait to find Alicia and tell her!

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I suddenly realise how much I miss her. I take out a piece of parchment and a quill and begin to write.

I call Quaffle over and tie the note to his leg. I watch as he soars out of my window and disappears into the sky, before turning back to my desk and picking up another of the Cursebreaking books I bought. I was never much of a bookworm at school but these are really interesting. I can’t put them down.

All Hallow's Eve at Crystal Chamber

2007-11-01T00:59:23Z

I wasn't going to come out tonight, but it is Halloween and I think I need a night out. What better night for a witch to party than Halloween! After getting this voucher off Draco, I haven't really got an excuse not to.

I'm not one for dancing in public, my dancing is limited to my room, but the music here is good, and the atmosphere is so friendly and positive it's impossible not to have a good time, and yes, dance. No one would have guessed it was owned by an ex-death eater.

As one song ends and another begins, I make my way to the bar for a drink. Force of habit being in muggle clubs I cast a discreet charm over the neck of my bottle to prevent my drink being spiked and head back to the dance floor and the nice little circle of wizards who seem to have gathered around my dancing "circle". This is slightly unnerving, but what girl doesn't like a little male attention now and then, as long as I don't let them get serious.

Arranging some girly time out.

2007-10-30T19:22:18Z

I really need a faster way of contacting Aly. Don't get me wrong, owls are great and I love Quaffle to bits, but using owls you need at least a weeks forward planning to contact a person about meeting up, and to get their reply. More if that person's work schedule is slightly sporadic...like Aly's. It's been a while since I saw her, and I'd quite like to catch up again.

However, an owl is all I've got right now so it will have to do. No use complaining about something you can't change. I learned that just over 10 years ago waiting for my penpal to reply via snail mail. I sit down and take out my quill and some parchment to write the letter.

I fold the letter up and call Quaffle over. I haven't bothered with the proper falconers glove since I discovered that my bird ignored the glove and rode on my unpadded shoulder. He's not a big bird so it's okay as long as he keeps his balance, but I do have a couple of scars from repeated talon-marks where he's slipped.

I go to tie the letter onto his leg then stop. Aly might be working, if she is I don't want my bird stuck there until she gets back with a letter tied to his leg all the time. Him being there isn't a problem unless he starts a fight with her bird, but he'd be really uncomfortable tied to a letter for however long she was gone. Instead I look at my owl sternly.

"If you drop this, or lose this, or deliver it to the wrong person, I will personally ensure that you become spitroast." He hoots at me and takes the letter in his beak. I have the uncomfortable feeling I'm being mocked, he clearly doesn't believe me that I would spitraost him.

A little light reading...

2007-10-21T14:42:06Z

I feel surprisingly contented despite the odd feeling of imbalance as I slide slowly to my right. It’s peaceful and quiet, and I’m nice and warm. A slightly slanted angle to the world isn’t reason enough to be concerned. Of course, when that slightly slanted angle means you’ve gone to sleep at your desk and are about to fall out of your chair it’s always best to try and wake up before you hit the floor.

Oof!

Of course that never happens. I groan and roll onto my back, trying to stretch out my legs, but they lock together. I’d had them curled under me on the chair and apparently they went to sleep when I did. Having legs as long as mine is useful when you want to reach something high up, or for covering large distances at great speed, unfortunately they’re not so useful when you’re curled up asleep and your legs go dead. It’s difficult to uncurl them to get the feeling back.

Eventually I’m able to untangle my limbs and start rubbing the pins and needles out of aching muscles. This done I’m able to stand and start some basic stretches to help improve circulation back to my legs. Why had I gone to sleep at my desk? Why not in bed?

I glance at my desk and see the answer at once. Cursebreaking books. Damn. I had planned to have an early night last night. That clearly didn’t work. I kneel down and crawl under my desk to rescue the book I must have been reading, and dropped, when I fell asleep, standing up a little too soon I smack my head into the underside of the desk.

OW! Okay, not a good start to the morning but I’ve had worse. Much worse. Rubbing the back of my head I inspect the book I’d dropped. The Does and Don’ts of Cursebreaking. DON’T let this happen to YOU!

Admitedly it is a highly informative book and no doubt I would feel differently if any one of these ‘Don’ts’ ever did happen to me, but from an external perspective some of the case studies are rather amusing. Others however are slightly nauseating. I shudder and put down the book. If my stomach can’t handle food early in the morning, it certainly can’t handle horror stories.

I pick up another one instead. Things to remember about Cursebreaking. This one is slightly less graphic, containing only mild descriptions of what will happen if you forget the things you're meant to remember. Definately a much better choice to read while I go through my morning routine.

An interesting proposition...

2007-10-17T23:22:50Z

I look at the book list Mr Weasley gave me. I'm sure Flourish and Blotts should have what I need...if not they'd know where to get it from. I'm beginning to wonder whether or not I'll actually need all this, but then he's the expert. I haven't been in here since my last year at Hogwarts. I haven't needed any new books since then. I'm not a big reader, but I enjoy it when I have to. Glancing around I see that everything has moved. With a frustrated sigh, this was clearly not going to be the speedy trip I'd hoped for, I look around for someone who looks official.

"Excuse me Miss?" I tap the young witch on the shoulder gently, "I'm looking for 'A Beginner's Guide to Cursebreaking?" My voice sounds as lost as I feel and I try not to blush. I don't tell her the authors name written on the paper next to the book title. One can never tell with a Weasley, whether the name I've been provided with is the actual author or some practical joke to make me look foolish. In my experience they're all a little tricky, there's no reason why the eldest should be any different, and with Wizarding authors who have names so befitting of their speciality I can't really tell if this is a joke or not.

She turns and I see that it's Hermione Granger. She smiles when she sees me. "Katie Bell! It's been years since I have seen you. How are you doing?" I'm not surprised to see that her arms are full of books - they always were when she was at Hogwarts.

"I'm doing well...well...as well as can be expected when one has to track down an entire library without actually knowing if one can trust the names given to one by a certain Weasley." I try not to smirk, even in my briefest meetings with my new mentor I've learned that Mr Weasley has his siblings sense of humour. "How about you I see..." I stop as my brain finally gets me to pay attention to what my eyes saw a while ago. She's pregnant. "Congratulations!" I finally manage when my mouth begins working again.

She blushes slightly. "Thank you. Yes, Ron and I are expecting our first baby in March, and of course it's going to be a boy. We had an ultrasound done a couple of weeks ago, but with a Weasley as his dad, I really didn't expect anything else. What is new with you? You're going to be taking a job as a curse breaker I take it?"

"How did you hear..." I start to ask, but its a stupid question. Mr Weasley is Ron's brother, and Ron is Hermione's husband. He also has the worst case of verbal diarrohea I've ever known, and Hermione was never slow at picking up the things that weren't said. "Silly question really but yes I am...hopefully as long as I pass my training."

"If the Weasley you are referring to is Bill, then you couldn't ask for a better mentor. He's great with wards as well. Have you seen Harry or Ginny yet?" she asks with a vague smile.

I shake my head, I haven't seen anyone from school recently, except for Hannah and Ernie. "I haven't seen anyone from the DA since...well." There's no point saying it. Dumbledore's death spelled the end for the DA. Harry and the gang had gone on to fight alone. "And yeh, Mr Weasley is my mentor, and yes he's great...but I can't let myself forget he was probably a mentor to the twins in a different way."

And Thus Training Begins...

2007-10-16T15:20:22Z

It's five minutes to 6 in the morning, and I'm about to knock on Mr Weasley's office door for the second time ever. At least I will as soon as I've caught my breath and got rid of the stitch in my side so I can stand up straight. Getting up this morning hadn't been anywhere near as successful as the trip to fill in paperwork. I woke up at 5 instead of 4, which didn't give me anywhere near enough time to wake up, get a shower, get dressed, get breakfast, and get here in time to work through the maze of corridors that made up Gringotts. Especially as I had to Apparate back home 3 times for things I'd forgotten...like my wand. That would have been a bad start. I sprint through the corridors of Gringotts' praying that I'd remembered the way to his office correctly, nearly running head first into the door when I finally reach it...but I was here, on time. If he is chirpy at 6am, I'll hex something.

Eventually preparing myself, glancing at my watch, one minute to 6, I knock and open the door.

"Good morning, Mr Weasley."

It's the second time I've been in this office, but the first time I was too terrified to take much notice of what was around me beyond the desk and its occupants. The desk and assorted furniture seems basically the same, although the inbox/outbox does seem to have gathered a few more scratches, and possibly teethmarks since I was last here...or maybe I just didn't notice them before. The leather desk blotter also seems to have suffered a similar attack, especially around the corners. Behind the desk blotter, there is what appears to be a series of five interconnected photograph frames, but they're facing towards the owner so I can't see what's in them. There's also another inbox/outbox, this one hasn't suffered an attack from whatever chewed the other, probably because its charmed or something, because there does seem to be some kind of magic radiating from it.

Like the room I was in to fill out the paperwork, there's a door marked 'Toilet' off to one side. Another door on the other side just has a feel of being a cupboard, maybe because from the outside of this room, there doesn't seem to be anywhere for another corridor or attached room to fit. On the wall behind Mr Weasley there are a series of shelves, approximately a foot wide and two feel long at various heights from the floor, the top one must be at least 8ft.

"Come in and sit down please Miss Bell." I do so, wondering how long I've been standing there like an idiot just staring around the office. I sit down to be greeted by the orange striped kneazle I'd seen last time, peering over the edge of his inbox-bed. He doesn't seem happy, and it seems as if I'm the cause of his displeasure. His gaze is slighly unnerving, almost too intelligent for a mere animal.

"You wanted to see me about training, Mr Weasely?" I ask, cautiously reaching out to scratch the kneazle-cross behind the ear. I draw my hand back as he strikes to scratch me and scowl at him. "Fine, I won't fuss you but that means no fish sticks either."

A second intruding owl...

2007-10-12T13:25:56Z

For the second time this week, Quaffle's peace is interrupted by another owl. This one's bigger than the last and not so easily intimidated. Again I find him perched on my shoulder, screeching at the intruder as if making perfectly clear that I was his witch. I smile and tilt my head slightly, nuzzling into his feathers. He's been rather protective off me since he flew into a Quidditch practice and got knocked out of the air by a rather vicious pass from my fellow Chaser. I was the first to see him, and some how managed to catch him before he hit the floor. After that it took several weeks before I could convince him that the other Chaser's were meant to throw the quaffle at me and that he didn't need to fly at their faces every time they passed me the ball.

I turn back to the visiting owl and untie the parchment attached to its leg offering it a chick leg, as this one is a Great Horned owl it doesn't need the leg cutting up, as thanks before reading the letter.

Training! This is it! If it weren't for the thought of Quaffle's talons gripping my shoulder I would have danced. I read through again and the urge to dance dies instantly. 0600?! Don't these people sleep?! If Mr Weasley Is anything like the twins or Ron, he won't be any happier with the early start than I am...but then maybe he was more like Percy Weasley who had always believed faithfully in the saying "Early to bed, early to rise makes a man healthy, wealthy and wise."

If he is we could have problems, I think worriedly.

Filling in parchment-work...rediculous amounts of parchment-work

2007-10-10T06:43:37Z

To say I planned to wake up early this morning isn't exactly a lie, I just hadn't planned to wake up at 4am for a meeting that wasn't until half seven. Once again the dream had returned, the dream I had every night after being discharged from St Mungos. It gradually decreased in frequency until now I only had it when I was stressed or worried about something. The dream involves being handed a package containing a cursed necklace. Except over the past two years the packaging in my dream has vanished, and instead of just touching the fateful opals through a tiny hole in my glove I'm holding the necklace fully in the palm of my bare hand. The pain is worse than I remember it, the crushing pain across my chest and in my head and I the feeling like being sucked under water as my vision goes dark, right before I wake up screaming, gasping for air.

After waking up to this dream just a few minutes after 4am I know that further sleep is impossible. So I head to my kitchen, make myself a very strong pot of coffee, leaving it to brew while I head for the shower. The hot water helps, as does the coffee and by the time I have to leave for Gringotts' I feel ready for anything...as long as there's plenty of tea. I exit my flat the Muggle way as usual before Disapparating in an abandoned sidestreet.

I left in plenty of time so I have time to find the actual department I'm meant to be reporting to, although the owl didn't say, rather than just arriving at the bank at 0730. Slight concern enters my mind, the bank doesn't open until 0900 most of the time, of course it would be open to employees but I'd only ever been there as a visitor, through the visitors entrance. I'll just have to ask someone...one of the Goblins. I hate Goblins. Unfortunately this has to be done unless I want to be late already. So I walk up to the main door in what I hope is a confident 'don't mess with me' stride. Knowing my luck I'll trip and fall flat on my face.

"Excuse me, could you tell me where the Employee's Entrance is?" The Goblin smirks and points to the side of the building. Even from here I can see the door, that door's never been there before surely! I would have noticed it! Magic remember! I thank him and head towards it, there's another Goblin just inside this one who stands blocking my path, normally I'd have been rather irritated and been itching to blast the little bugger. As it is, I do need further directions, so I hand him the owl I'd received and ask him if he knows where to report too. He seems oddly polite for a Goblin. Must be a young one. I decide as he leads me up to the Director's office. I glance at my watch. 0715. Do I knock now or do I wait for 0730 in case he's busy with something?

Now, I decide, best to get it over with. I raise my hand to knock and the door opens before I've touched it. Quickly I drop my hand, thanking whichever Gods gave me quick Quidditch reactions that just prevented me from knocking a door that wasn't there and punching the Director in the face.

"Ah, Miss Bell wasn't it? Come in. Tea?" I frown slightly as he shakes my hand with a grip that would be very poor in Quidditch unless you wanted to drop everything. Had he known I was there already, or had he been on his way to do something? If it was the latter he seemed to have forgotten about it now.

Right now I just want to get started, but the fact he's already fixing two cups of tea with his wand makes it rude to refuse. I normally try to avoid these situations, because tea or coffee usually means a chat, and unless I know the person already chatting doesn't come easy. It's especially difficult when I'm only just starting a new job, and the person I'm attempting to 'chat' with is the Personnel Director. I focus my mind on drinking my tea and forcing myself to speak. Fortunately he seems happy to lead the conversation, so there are no awkward silences.

Eventually the moments of hell are over, and he instructs another Goblin to...well I'm not sure what, they weren't speaking English, but the Goblin then leads me deep into the bank, through a maze of corridors. This is the second time this has happened, and I can guarantee I'll get lost on my way out. I'm also pretty sure we're going in circles. Eventually he stops so suddenly I nearly trip right over him. He shows me into a room, indicates where the bathroom is. "Through this door on the left." For the second time today I'm shown a door which hadn't existed until it was pointed out to me. Why is there such secrecy on a toilet?!

He leaves and I'm left to explore the room myself. Not that this takes long. There's a desk, with a tea pot, milk jug, sugar bowl, cup and saucer and a spoon on it...and three stacks of parchment. Each about one foot in height. I blink at it for a second trying to see the logic in this.

"I'm 20 years old. I've been out of school two years. There isn't enough information in my entire life to justify that much paperwork." I mutter to myself sitting at the desk to begin, now I know why they wanted three quills. "You'd better be an automatic re-filler." I growl at the tea pot. "I don't think there's enough tea in China to get me through this."

The paperwork starts off like any paperwork, with the basic 'name', 'date of birth' but by half way down the first pile of parchment I feel like they've exhausted every angle of my life, including education, previous employment, family background, and "in the interest of ensuring we treat everyone fairly - blood status". For the last one I'm tempted to put O positive, but some how Director Thompson doesn't seem like he has a sense of humour. Why ask blood status?! If you don't know blood status you can't discriminate against it so it's fair! I certainly don't want to get a job just because a company needs to fill their quota of Muggle-born employees, I'd rather get a job based on my talents because I deserve the job.

Reaching the second pile and already having started my second quill three quarters of the way through the first pile, I'm beginning to despair. While the teapot is indeed a self-filler, and has a tendency to pour me a new cup by itself, tea isn't exactly what's needed here. Coffee is. I take my lunch out and stab at the pasta maliciously with my fork, I don't care that it's not lunch time yet. How can there be anything more they need to know about me?! Ahah marital status...I write, single. At this the next 6 or so inches of the parchment pile apparently disappear. It makes the job better but still having another foot and a half to go it doesn't make it that much better.

Nearing the middle of the third pile I toss my third quill at the bin. My wrist cramps from writing, making me miss. I hadn't missed a shot since I was at school! I summon it back and try again, but with a cramped wrist it takes several more attempts and eventually a left handed throw to get it in. My wrist hasn't cramped this bad since the Magpie Manager insisted, as a good publicity thing, we signed every scrap of parchment that was pushed at us, which resulted in the Keeper and my two fellow Chasers being legally married to witches they'd never met. That had been an interesting mess for the team's solicitors to sort out.

I pick up my fourth quill, I'll have to tell Director Thompson his owl was misleading, and sigh at the remainder of the third parchment pile. Even if I include every single scratch and bruise I've had since I was born, the location of the two tiny birthmarks I've got, and the fact I was a Sagitarius, there's too much parchment there. I force myself to focus on the questions again. "Previous injuries:" I groan, maybe this is psychic parchment. If it is I'm not telling them where my birthmarks are, and they can work my star sign out for themselves; they have my birthdate after all.

An owl from Gringotts'

2007-10-09T20:17:51Z

Today was an interesting day all told. A supposedly shortstaffed Magical Menagerie fired one of their main employees for taking unscheduled leave. Add to the fact I'm only working their unofficially until my training orders come in, I wonder what they're going to do until they hire someone new.

As soon as I arrive home I can tell something is wrong with my owl. He is puffed up, glaring at the corner of the room. When I look to see what he's looking at I see there is another owl, there on my window ledge, as close to the open window as he can be without actually being outside, with a letter tied to its leg. It is only a young barn owl, and clearly scared of Quaffle's glare. I tut at my bird and go to rescue the new comer, untying the letter and offering it a piece of chick leg before it flies off.

Owl to Katie Bell
Gringotts Bank London
Personel Department
Hyrum Goldsmith, Director

Miss Katie Bell:

Welcome to Gringotts Bank. Please report to work at precisely 0730 on 10 Oct. 1999.
Please bring a sack lunch and three new quills to fill out the hiring paperwork. Tea will be provided.

Good luck on all future endeavors with Gringotts,

Hyrum Goldsmith

I let this news sink in. I got the job...at least I get the opportunity to train for the job. The job itself is still a long way away but this is the first step. I sit down very quickly, vaguely aware that Quaffle, disturbed by the arrival of a strange bird has come to rest on my shoulder. Glancing sideways, it looks as if he's inspecting the letter in as much detail as I had. I hold it up for him, he hoots once and flies back to his perch. Well that's him satisfied. Now just to arrange everything.

I don't need to buy quills, I've still got an unopened set of five writing quills I bought in the "Back to school" sales. I drop them into my bag, check. Next, lunch. This is taken care of with a few flicks of my wand, turning the stove on, filling a pan with water and dumping some pasta in to boil. Once that's done I'll mash in some tuna mayo and some sweetcorn.

Putting my wand down again I go back to re-reading my letter. 0730, I'm normally at the Menagerie by 0800 so I only have to get up half an hour earlier, still this thought isn't cheering in the slightest. I'm not a morning person, sometimes to the extent that I'm sure my brain doesn't work until at least 11 o'clock. I hope they have enough tea.

A slow start to a new job...

2007-10-08T22:40:02Z

Today’s the day, I decided. Today I will march straight into Gringotts’ and tell them why I am there. I want a job, not just any job; I want to be a curse breaker, and, damn it, I have the qualifications to do just that! I know I won’t sound that brave in once I get there.

I sigh, turning to look at myself from all angles in the mirror. A year playing Quidditch and a year working with animals has a way of making smart dress robes look funny on a girl. Once I’m satisfied with the results of my outfit I turn my attention to my hair, using my wand to flick it just so. Well, there’s not a lot more a girl can do about her appearance to make a good first impression. I dig out my OWL and NEWT results certificates in case I’m required to prove I’m qualified for such a position. Am I qualified for the position? The career leaflets said Arithmancy was required, Runes and Charms were useful...well I had good results in all three but that didn’t mean I knew the first thing about curse breaking.

Oh hell I’m going to die. I’m going to get squished into the desert sand like a scarab beetle by some zombie who will then continue to reek havoc on the nearest muggle dwelling all because I released it. I quickly banish these thoughts; they’re not helping with my nerves.

“I’m heading out, Maggie!” I call to my elderly landlady. Its not a traditional flat I rent from her, more like a Muggle house chopped in half. I get the upstairs and, being elderly and wobbly on her feet, she gets the downstairs, so there’s nothing to fall down. Still, even divided into two, this place is really too big for me, but I got it cheap because she was old and lonely and having someone here gives her company and security. She’s also the nosiest busybody in the street, so I can’t just Apparate from inside my flat. I have to appear to be going out the Muggle way. Once outside, I quickly hide down the side between two houses and Apparate straight to the Leaky Cauldron. I consider getting a drink to settle my nerves, but having a recovering alcoholic in the family has taught me that it often starts as a drink to settle your nerves, and the more you drink, the more you need to drink. No, I will get a drink when I want it, not when I need it.

I make my way straight into Diagon Alley, and find my feet taking me almost straight into the Magical Menagerie automatically. I change directions and head for Gringotts’. I’m still as impressed by it now as I was when I first saw it. Colours of white marble, bronze doors, scarlet and gold uniforms. How very Gryffindor! Everything is a flash of colour, and I can feel my nerves building in my gut with each step I take. Eventually I reach the desk marked “Enquiries”. Here goes nothing ...

“I’d like to speak to someone about potentially taking a job as a curse breaker.” The words rush out in my nerves, and my plans to appear cool, calm and competent are ruined the first time I open my mouth. Curses! The Goblin at the desk looks at me, hops down off his seat and walks off. Well that was a success, I think irritably. He hasn’t gone more than a few yards when he turns back, gestures furiously at me and mutters something which I think meant ‘stupid humans’ in Goblin. Getting the message I follow him.

I end up following a surprising number of Goblins, Wizards and Witches over the next hour as I’m directed from one department to another, sworn at in at least six different variations of Goblin and two different Muggle languages. At least I think I was, I know only a few odd words in a few odd languages, and English is the only one I speak fluently enough to understand when I’m being insulted. The only other languages I understand aren’t spoken ones; they’re written in runes and have very odd pronunciations which meant the language died out long ago and no one else speaks them either.

Eventually I’m told to “Wait here please!” Although the please seems more like a matter of company policy rather than actual good manners. With a sigh I nod my agreement and slump down in a chair. How long have I been walking around this place like a sheep following one person or another? This is getting most tiresome, and I’m beginning to wish I’d brought some lunch with me.

I consider where I’d been directed so far. At first I was sent to the mortgage department. I live in rented accommodation, why would I need a mortgage, and what does it have to do with curse breaking? Then the TRUST department, merciful Merlin give me strength! Then I was sent to personnel recruitment...that sounded more hopeful but apparently curse breakers aren’t under their jurisdiction.

“Excuse me.” I stand up; at 5ft 8 I’m taller than the employee I’d cornered. Back straight, irritation at waiting suddenly gives me confidence I speak up again. “I came here to enquire about a job, and so far I’ve been herded like a sheep and given no assistance or useful information at all.”

I knew I should have worn my Magpies Quidditch top. People tend to take notice of you when you’re a Quidditch star. Unfortunately the person I’ve cornered looks more nervous than I feel. I see the young girl gulp and nod mutely. Clearly she isn’t used to dealing with stroppy customers this far away from the public side of the bank.

“Will you please direct me to whatever department is involved in employing curse breakers?” Deep breath, stay calm, you’ll lose all this confidence as soon as you see someone who knows what they’re doing. The girl blinks at me mutely and then nodded.

“Uhm...I’m not sure if anyone’s available right now...”

“I did not just hear that. You did not just tell me I’ve been waiting here for Merlin knows how long and no one’s available. Why, please tell me, was I not told this when I first came here, instead of waiting around, missing lunch and snapping at innocent assistants. I’m sorry.” My stomach is beginning to rumble now, and I always get irritable when I am hungry. “Will you please at least tell me a more convenient time to come back and actually get something done about this?”

“Through here, please.” The Goblin who’d asked me to wait FINALLY returned. This is it...I nod to the young girl with an apologetic smile, and reaching up to knock on the door, I read the plaque.

“Mr W. Weasley- Curse Breaker and Vault Security.” So that’s why they sent me to the Vault Security department. Mr W. Weasley...Fred and George’s brother, well here goes nothing. I knock, and feel my empty stomach twist at the noise.

Constant Annoyance and a New Aquaintance

2007-10-07T18:41:57Z

I've started to take the shop chimes down at night, that way they don't get eaten...or otherwise disposed of by one of the many magical creatures here. I have my suspicions as to which of them may be involved but short of shooting them, stuffing them and using them as a door-stop there's not much I can do. It's always quiet in the afternoon, so I don't suppose anyone would notice if I took them down a little early. Of course I could do this the easy way and summon them, but for some reason I choose not to, like many things in this job there is a muggle way of doing it and out of habit I do it the muggle way. At times like this I could forget I even had a wand. I use the step ladder to reach the chimes and lift them down carefully, putting them away behind the counter where sharp teeth and claws can't reach them.

"Bell!"

I yelp and clutch the ladder wondering why I can stay on a moving broomstick several feet in the air without holding on but I can't balance on a stationary ladder.

"What?!" I yell back.

I look back to see the other employee, I've forgotten his name, gathering his things. "I gotta go. Just got an owl. I'll be gone the rest of the day so the shop is yours. Listen, Poliakoff hasn't come by yet, but she most likely will. Her kneazle that she got from us, black and about six years old, she has to bring him here once a month to get an vial of nutrients specifically for him. Needed it since it was born, which explains the reason why it took us so long to sell the bloody thing. Since I won't be here, you'll have to do that."

I wave my arm irritably and climb down the ladder carefully after my near fall. I don't like him, he's always tried to land me with the difficult jobs, like forcing a rancid tasting potion down the throat of some screaming furball with teeth and claws. Unfortunately he's more senior than I am so there's nothing I can do about it. "Fine, but you're closing up for me tomorrow." I know he'll object, and chances are he won't do it anyway but it's worth a try.

"Not really," he grins. "I'll be gone the next few days. Anyway, be ready. The vial is behind the corner. It's red, and marked Amaro. Apparently it's what Nina Poliakoff named the aggravating kneazle. I swear it was as aggravating as Crookshanks. So have a nice few days."

I swear at him as he leaves. One of these days, <i>one of these days!</i> Right, I take a deep breath and let it out. Losing my temper is not something which gets me very far. In Quidditch you lose your temper you lose your match, you lose your place on the team. So to keep your job, you have to keep your temper. Not only that but I'm not very good at making people realise I'm serious when I'm angry, they tend to think I'm joking.

Once I'm calm again I head back to work.

A second unwanted letter...

2007-09-30T22:07:37Z

Another letter arrived today. Apparently, my Mother knows I haven’t opened her first, which is now lying in a smouldering heap in my bin after I ignited it in my frustration at receiving a second letter. I contemplate igniting this one as well but there seems to be only one way to stop future letters coming. I tear the envelope open and tug the letter out, opening it almost roughly enough to tear it.

Dear Katriona,

It is time to stop this childish sulking and come home! For two years we have indulged your little tantrum but we have had enough. That world is not safe for you! Come home before it is too late! We only want what’s best, trust us and come home before we come and get you...

It goes on but I don’t need to read any further. I ignite the letter and drop it into my bin with the first. When I chose to return to Hogwarts after what I’ve come to think of as “the opal-incident” my Mother believed me to be “on a self-destructive path”. We fought, and I left. I haven’t spoken to any of them since. Until now, summoning paper, an envelope and my quill I try to calm myself enough to start writing. Normally I would have walked to get them, but now I want to use magic, I was born with it; it’s my right to use it.

Dear Mother,

It seems you are behind the times. The war is over now, we won. This world is as safe as yours, which is not without its own dangers. I am not a child anymore. I am 20. I have a flat, a good job and a small fortune in the bank. You probably haven’t heard but I was an international sports star for a year in this world. What can your world offer me now that is better than that?

If you are serious about reconciliation with me as a young witch, now it is safe, then please send a reply with Quaffle (the owl). Unless that is the case please do not contact me again. I am not a little girl whose life you can control.

-Katie

Okay the good job part was a lie but it pays the bills, she need know no more than that. The letter sounds a lot more reasonable than I’m feeling, and I’m tempted to ad “P.S I have a wand, you wouldn’t like the results if you ‘came to get me.” but that sounds far too much like the child they’re trying to make me into. Instead I call Quaffle over and tie the letter to his leg. With a hoot he flies out the window and is gone from sight. I could have sent the letter by muggle post, but I’m a witch damn it. Witches communicate with owls.

I turn my music up loud, and the lyrics “What have you done now?” blast out through my room, echoing in my mind as I throw myself backwards onto my bed.

Sometime later I'm woken up by a pain in my left ear and I sit bolt up right, swearing at my owl. The note attached to his leg is a short one, and any hope I had of reconciliation with my family is lost as I read...

"We shall not bother you further."

in my father's writing. That's it then...my one solid connection to the muggle world, beyond my flat, is gone. I've got through the past 2 years alone. This is no different.

Failing courage...

2007-09-28T13:42:33Z

I’m sitting on my bed staring at the letter from my Mother. Well, staring at the envelope. I haven’t gathered the courage to open it yet. It’s just a letter; the logical side of my brain is telling me. Unfortunately it isn’t winning. It may just be a letter but it’s a letter from my mother. A woman I haven’t spoken to in two years. What if it’s important! Was another favourite guilt trip my brain liked to try. If it’s important then I definitely don’t want to open it. If it takes something important for her to contact me then she really doesn’t want to work at the whole “mother-daughter thing”.

Trouble is, despite being only a Bell, a Scotsman, by marriage, my mother is as stubborn as I am. If she doesn’t want to work on reconciliation, neither do I. Maybe she does, maybe it just took her a while to find the courage. I hate my mind some times. I slide my wand into the gap at the corner of the envelope and tear the top open. Just take the paper out and read it. This step is a little harder than just opening it. Deep breaths, Katie. Closing my eyes I pull the paper a little way out of the envelope. My heart is pounding so hard it’s making my ears ring.

I know I’m being a coward. I’m part Scottish after all, part Scottish, part Yorkshire, even if I wasn’t actually born and bred there. Scotsmen (and women) are not scared of anything so this is ridiculous! A feeling of disgust creeps into my mind. I force myself to open my eyes and look at the letter.

“Dear Katriona.” That’s all I manage to read before I shove the paper back into the envelope and hurl it violently across the room. I curl up on my bed, hugging my favoured teddy tight to my chest. I don't care if I'm being a coward anymore. I feel like a little girl being sent to her room for stealing cookies! I hate that name. That name is only ever used when I'm in trouble, so I hate it being used and worst of all, that witch knows it!

Dancing and dusting...

2007-09-24T09:58:40Z

Today is my day off this week. I start with some light house work, dusting, vacuuming things like that. Things which are oddly satisfying to do the muggle way after a stressful week at work. Fortunately I haven’t come across any spiders yet but I have my wand ready if I do. It’s not so much the spiders that scare me, it’s the legs. Nothing with a body that small should have legs over an inch long, and it CERTAINLY shouldn’t have more than 4 of them. I’ve never seen an acromantula but the idea doesn’t freak me out so much as regular spiders, a big body deserves big legs, and the little spiders which have legs in proportion to their bodies don’t bother me...those are actually quite cute. It’s just the spiders with little bodies and huge legs. I hate them, so if I can get over my initial panic before they scurry away to hide I freeze them, and throw them out the window. If I panic of course, Quaffle usually eats them before I can stop him which makes me feel slightly queasy.

I flick my wand and turn my music up to full volume, but it’s not my angry music, it’s my dance music. Muggle bands, old and new, songs which make me feel good. I realise how lucky I am to be able to play my music this loud. My land lady, Maggie, treats me very much like her own family, and several times when I’ve lost items of clothing it’s because she’s decided to do a load of washing for me even though I normally do it myself. It’s frustrating, but it’s sweet and as I don’t have any magical wards around my flat that could hurt her I don’t mind. She’s also very young at heart for an 81 year old, and she actually likes my music, so she doesn’t mind it played loud.

Before long I find I’m dancing as I work, I probably look ridiculous but there’s no one to see so I don’t care. Soon enough I’m just dancing, the house work either done or forgotten. I’ve never taken dancing lessons, I don’t think you can get dancing lessons for my style, but I still enjoy it in private. I’d never dance where anyone could see me though, except Quaffle, my owl. At the moment he’s sitting on his perch, looking at me with his head on one side, almost at 90^o to his body. I have to laugh at this and take a piece of chick-leg off the tray for him.

When I first found my beloved owl I decided to do a week’s course at a falconry centre, just so I knew how to care for my bird correctly. I learned all sorts of useful things, like the fact the birds are fed on day-old cockerels which have been killed as a waste produce from the food industry. Cockerels don’t lay eggs so at one day old they’re killed, frozen and boxed to be sold to zoos, centres and private owners, along with the occasional frozen rat or pigeon. Rats and pigeons are rather big for owls like Quaffle, and are usually used by centres that have vultures, or some of the larger eagle breeds to feed. The day old chicks do just fine for barn owls.

I also learned that the birds need everything. They need to eat the bones for calcium, the internal...bits for vitamins and minerals, the flesh for the protein and the feathers to clean out their guts. This makes my job a lot easier because I don’t have to skin, gut or cook anything. What I do have to do is prepare little tit-bits if I want to give him a treat. Whole chicks are fine for his dinner, but if I gave him a whole chick as a reward every time he carried a letter for me he’d get very fat very quickly. Instead I tear off the chick-legs and cut them into halves of quarters. At first this idea was rather gross, but seeing how some of the other birds of prey eat their food, usually by squeezing it until all the guts squirted out, or holding the eyeballs in their beak and popping them, I was very grateful to my owl for swallowing his chicks whole, and so tearing off chick-legs to give him a treat didn’t seem too much to ask. That was the other good thing about Maggie; she didn’t mind Quaffle, or his food. I’d spelled the room to keep him from making a stink, and I kept his cage clean but even so there was plenty for her to object to and she didn’t.

With a sigh I sink onto my bed as the CD comes to an end. I wonder briefly what time it is and out of habit I glance at the clock on my wall. It says 10 to 2...but then it’s said 10 to 2, unchanging, for five years now. The batteries died ages ago and even at 5’8” I’m not tall enough to reach the clock to change them. Instead I look to the little metal pillar clock by my bedside, but this hasn’t worked since the alarm woke me up at 4 am and I threw it out of the window. I also have a collection of watches ranging from the blue "my first watch" I got free with a "learn to tell the time" book when I was little, to the silver and purple one I got for my last birthday...none of these work either, they all have dead batteries or cracked faces.

How can I have no fewer than six time devices in this room and none of them work? Whatever time it is it must be nearly time for food because my stomach’s starting to rumble. Maybe sweet chilli noodles tonight...

Bumping into a new friend...

2007-09-20T18:04:38Z

"This concise guide will take you through a series of magical careers allowing you to judge which is right for you, before explaining in detail the training required to become successful in your field of expertise." I'm talking to myself as I read, I always do it. Of course walking down a crowded street, nose in a book, talking to myself just makes me look even more odd. I'm beginning to think this book "A guide to Magical Careers." is a waste of money. It's not told me anything new about any potential jobs, nothing that I didn't know already.

Peripheral vision is a wonderful thing, except when the thing, or in this case person, you need to see is directly in front of you and moving in a direct collision course.

"Oof! Sorry!" I drop my book into my bag, preparing to steady whoever I'd hit if they were off balance.

I look down to see someone sitting on the pavement, looking a little ruffled. She looks familiar. "Katie Bell?" she asks. A big smile breaks out on her face, "Nice to bump into you." I reach my hand down and help her up.

"Yes...sorry...I wasn't really paying attention to where I was going." I smile back at her, no wonder she looked familiar. "Hannah isn't it? You were in Hufflepuff with Ernie..."

Muggle-mail and an unwanted letter

2007-09-18T18:20:08Z

Work today has been frustrating, very frustrating. Not only were things painfully slow all morning, but we were swamped with customer’s right before I was meant to have my lunch break. Hunger makes me cranky so missing food wasn’t a good idea. Then in the afternoon, the tide abated with the exception of one Wizard who, despite only playing for the Magpies for one year, pledged that he was my number one fan. Eventually he had to be escorted out as the Menagerie locked up for the evening.

I throw myself down onto my bed and flick my wand at my speaker system, selecting my current favourite CD and turning the volume up. Another flick of my wand calls that mornings post to me. Save a life. Give blood. While the idea of saving a life sounded good, needles made me feel most peculiar. All pizzas half price. Now that did sound like a good idea, with no peculiar dizziness involved. My bank statement, telling me how much muggle money I had, and a clothes catalogue. There was one final letter, I noticed picking it up from the pile. I dropped it like a hot coal as soon as I saw my address on the front. Like all my mail it came muggle-delivered. After all, no one from the Wizard world had reason to owl me. This address however was hand-written, unlike a lot of muggle mail these days where the addresses were printed.

Hugging my knees too my chest I find myself staring at that envelope, with that address, in that hand-writing. Open it. Just open it. It’s just a letter, open it, read it, reply. But it’s not that simple. The hand-writing, so similar to my own, belongs to my mother. The last time I spoke to either of my parents had been two years ago, after being discharged from St Mungo’s, returning to Hogwarts, when Voldemort’s second reign of terror was reaching its peak. Things had been said, things which couldn’t be unsaid. Since then I’d moved on with my life, I’d grown up. I’d found myself a flat and a job and kept my head down. I’d kept out of the line of fire so to speak, and even in the height of my 365 “Glory Days” with the Magpies I’d kept my family private. After everything that was said, I wasn’t going to risk them being targeted the way some other families of muggle-born’s were. The muggle public were in enough danger without painting targets on specific people announcing to every Death Eater within a hundred miles ‘Hey, I sired a witch.’ If no one knew who my family were, no one could target them because of what I was.

I look at the letter and sigh. It’s not a howler. It’s not going to open itself so it can wait. I pick up the pizza deals leaflet and focus on choosing my dinner for tonight. After the day I’ve had, it had better have a stuffed crust and double the pineapple.

Cats and rats...oh heck!

2007-09-15T16:12:22Z

I’ve been doing some more research into curse breaking, and I’ve decided the best place to start would be a visit to Gringotts’. I’ll take care of that on my day off next week. For now however I’m at work as usual, and since discovering there may be an end to this hell I’m finding it really hard to concentrate. Although it’s not as if there’s much to concentrate on.

It’s feeding time for all the animals around the store, one of the many tasks I could, can, and will be doing by hand. I don’t see the point in using a wand to scatter a few food pellets into a few cages when I can pick the bags up by hand and do it. I slip off the stool behind the counter and start the monotonous task of taking a scoop of food, opening the lid to a particular cage and dumping the food into the dish whilst trying not to bury the stupid animal underneath which has decided going to sleep in its bowl is a good idea. I’ve never been afraid of rodents; I just don’t like them much. I much prefer the kneazles, and kneazle-feline hybrids. These are fed next, not with scoop food this time but meat, cut up small for the kittens.
I pull my hand back fast before I can get clawed at, a lesson I learned in my first week. Next the nifflers, similar dens, similar food, to the kneazles, but a lot less suspicious that what you’re feeding them is poisonous, unfortunately that means they eat twice as much and poop twice as often, so they need cleaning out again. At least the kneazles know to use a litter tray.

So far today we’ve had 3 customers for food, 2 for actual animals and one old witch who was convinced her rat was just sleeping when in fact it had been dead for at least 3 days. It had taken a lot to convince her to part with the old companion and buy a new one. The old companion was now awaiting incineration.

“Hello Miss, I would like some assistance please.”

I feel myself jump. There are chimes on the door to alert us to when customers come in, why hadn’t I heard them? I glance up to see something has chewed the metal clangy bits out of the bells and frown. That was the third time this week.

“Of course sir, how can I help you?” I head back to the counter immediately and smile politely at the Wizard. He seems familiar, and I know why, Ernie MacMillan, he was the year below me at school. Oh thank goodness a customer with some intelligence! The day I’ve been having I think I’d go mad if I had another customer like the mad old rat-witch.

Possible change of direction for the future...

2007-09-10T16:33:37Z

Ever heard of that girl that everyone's always warning you to avoid? You know, the one that always seems to have a bit of bad luck following her. That girl who grew up accident free...well sort of, there were the occasional accidents, but nothing any other child didn’t have, and then she entered her new school.

She had a couple accidents in Potions. No problem really, every first year does it. She had the occasional ‘oops’ in her other classes as well, like dropping off to sleep in History of Magic and falling out of her chair.

The real bad luck didn't start until she started playing Quidditch for Gryffindor house in her second year. Slytherins play dirty and she wound up having accident after accident. Like getting her head grabbed by the Slytherin Captain and Chaser, Montague, who conveniently thought it was a Quaffle. The only piece of good luck there was that he didn’t knock her off her broom entirely. A few years later, she gets a nosebleed because Ronald Weasley overthrew the Quaffle and then it’s made worse by an unintentional Weasley Twin prank.

She’s also one of Peeve's favourite targets- chalk, ink pellets, inkwells, anything he can grab off a suit of armour.

And then finally, her last year at school, when she thinks she’s escaping her 7 years of bad luck? Of course- she ends up placed under the Imperious Curse and gets cursed by a necklace.

Ever heard of her?

Her name is Katie Bell.

Me. Yeah, that's right. Me. I'm Katie Bell. The most cursed student of Hogwarts, I think. At least it hasn't followed me since I left...well...

It’s hard to believe the path that led me to where I am now, but I swear every word of it is true. I should know, I was there, and I’m telling you, I’m never touching nougat or opals again!

Right now, however, I’m sitting at the counter of the Magical Menagerie, flicking through some old school notes. I’m technically on duty, but we’ve had so few customers since school started again that I can afford to let my attention wander. Two years ago, I was in my final year at Hogwarts preparing to take my NEWT exams, except when returning to school after a Hogsmead visit I later wake up in St Mungo’s hospital. That had been the cursed necklace, intended for someone else. Rumour has it that Malfoy was behind it, but no one would confirm or deny that. This was probably to prevent me from getting my own back.

I discard a bunch of leaflets, screwing them up and aiming them with Chaser accuracy into the bin...testing how far I can throw accurately is about the only challenge I get here and it’s driving me mad. Okay, my OWL results weren’t great over all, I did well in the subjects I wanted to do well in and kind of left the others to chance. I passed them all, but it was a close thing. My NEWT results were better though, despite the several months spent in St Mungo’s...and now I’m sitting doing a job I could do without my magic all together. I need to get a new job!

After leaving Hogwarts, I tried out to be a Chaser for the Montrose Magpies, and I got in. I played with them for a year, but it wasn’t the same as playing at school. The beaters were good, but I’d still felt safer with the Weasley twins. For all they messed about, I knew that when it came down to my head being bashed in they’d be there to stop it. The other Chasers were good too, but over our years together Alicia, Angelina and I had built up a working rhythm with each other. We knew were the other two would be without looking, until we could play with our eyes closed and never miss a pass...and the Captain, Oliver was a task master but with Fred and George there, no one could ever take practice too seriously. Needless to say, I didn’t feel comfortable playing with total strangers. Maybe I quit too soon, I should have got to know them first, but I don’t think so. Quidditch is a hobby for me, it would be a big mistake to make it anything more serious to the extent that I can’t have fun during practices.

So now I was working as a shop assistant, doing a job I could do by hand and use my wand for kindling. There <i>has</i> to be a better job for me somewhere, which is why I’m going over my old careers advice leaflets in between customers. Something catches my eye and I wonder...Curse Breaker. It seems to fit perfectly. The only NEWT I took which isn’t either ‘required’ or ‘useful’ was Care of Magical Creatures, and who knows what weird and wonderful creatures I might meet on such a job, certainly more interesting than sitting at a cash register. I feel a rush of excitement and wonder how exactly to get into such a job. Gringotts’, but I’ve only ever been to Gringotts’ to deal with money, how exactly would one go about getting a job there. There’d probably be more training involved...but that’s nothing I can’t handle.

This thought settled in my mind, I return to work, feeling slightly more cheerful than before.