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Chapter 5 : Holy Bologna!
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I was imagining the worst possible things, well for Katie that is. If these things actually happened....giggle...I’m sorry, not funny carrying on.
Oliver got hit in the head with a quaffle, Oliver became a death eater, Oliver is gay (a fairly popular life choice for sport stars apparently) and wants to be with Roger instead of Katie, Oliver chipped a nail, Oliver, Oliver, Oliver.... I really hope I wasn’t (see past tense!) this crazy about Davies.
“Katie, what’s wrong?”, I asked helplessly looking at her sobbing figure on the bed.
She didn’t answer, but sobbed even more.
“What the bloody hell did Wood do,” I said darkly moving over to Katie, rubbing her back.
“He doesn’t-”, she started, but burst into tears once more and blindly pushed the letter towards me.
I picked it up hesitantly and scanned his freakishly neat handwriting. Holy bologna, his handwriting was more girlie than mine!
I got your letter and I think it’s a great idea for Ruthie to come. Although it will be quite a hassle keeping her away from my teammates......
HUH! How dare he! I am now Quidditich celibate thank you very much!
......Is she still going out with George?.....
Eye roll, that was about a million years ago Wood, stick to the program! I scanned the letter ignoring his comments about George and I.
......I miss you too Katie Kate, but don’t worry I’ll see you soon. I can’t wait to show you my new moves.....
Ewww! Oh, I get it! Pompous pig.
......Tell Little Ruthie I said ‘hi’ and I’ll see you both at King’s Cross Friday.
ERGH! Next time I see that jerk I’m going to open up a can of whoop arse on his.... arse. No one calls me little and gets away with it. Except for Chuck, he can call me anything, anytime, any day, anywhere- okay ignore that.
Wait, why is Katie so upset? I mean other than Wood being his usual arrogant self, I see nothing wrong with this letter. Or maybe I’m missing something, I usually am.
“Isn’t it awful!”, Katie said in a depressed voice.
Okay when in doubt, do what Jesus would do.
Jesus understands the complexity of friendship.
“I KNOW!”, Katie said her eyes wide.
”I KNOW!”, I shouted back.
”SERIOUSLY!”, I echoed throwing my hands up in the air.
Can you honestly say that Jesus never had one of these moments with his disciples? I mean he is only human..... and God.....
Katie looked at me suspiciously for one long moment.
“You have no idea what I’m talking about do you?”, she said her eyes narrowing into little slits.
And then the Bible hit the fan. No literally, I stood up so quickly that I fell against Katie’s broom, which flew into my night stand, which caused the Bible my missionary parents’ sent me to fly into the air and smash into Leanne’s Magic Air Purifying Fan. And the worst part is...... the bloody fan ripped the Bible into shreds!
I think that’s a really really BIG sin. Can I go to hell for that? I have to make a mental note to pray for forgiveness and write a confession to my parents.
“Was that your-”
“Yes,” I answered sadly.
I nodded my head looking at the fan that now looked ready to combust.
It was common knowledge that Leanne Jensen hates me with a passion that I envy. I mean if I had that must hate stored inside of me I would gladly direct it to you-know-who. Not you-know-who, although he can have a pretty hardy share too along with Oliver Wood.
I honestly don’t know why Leanne hates me so much... okay I do. It’s not my fault though! Most of the incidents involve Wood, so it’s naturally his fault. Like in fifth year when Oliver came to visit and he wouldn’t stop calling me Little Ruthie at dinner, so I threw pudding at his face. Damn Keeper reflexes! He dodged it easily and it smacked Leanne right in the face.
Or maybe her hate started even earlier. Maybe it was on the boat to Hogwarts first year when I accidentally knocked her into the lake after a certain Scottish fourth year decided it would be funny to spook an innocent first year (myself). I really don’t blame Leanne, but she is going to bloody kill me.
“OH MY MERLIN!”
Speak of the devil.
RUN, HIDE, SAVE YOURSELVES!
“SPARKS! This fan is brand new, you know I don’t breathe well in this horrible elevated air!”, she screeched her dark brown hair pulled up in a fancy bun.
Wait, how does she know it was me! Deny, deny, deny.
“How dare you accuse me! It could be anyone, even the house elves!”, I said crossing my fingers hoping Hermione couldn’t hear me from next door.
“Because only you are stupid enough and clumsy enough for this to happen. And plus your parents’ are preachers aren’t they and this is a Bible! Or what’s left of it.”
Then little Miss Richy Rich-Rich did the usual up and down survey of how I looked today. I tugged at my second hand robes self consciously.
“I mean I know your parents don’t get paid much, but really Ruthie those shoes are so last century. I mean Rowena Ravenclaw herself wouldn’t be caught in those,” she said with a smirk looking at her shiny heels and then my old Mary Jane’s.
I felt myself blush, knowing she was right. My family made the Weasley’s seem like millionaires.
I broke her fan.
I’m going to have to buy her a new one.
I only had a couple of knuts left from Christmas shopping in Hogsmeade and that fan sure looked expensive. I couldn’t ask my parents for money I mean the exchange rate from Muggle money to wizarding is outrageous. It’s costing my parents an arm and a leg for me to even be here.
“SHUT UP LEANNE!”, I heard Katie shout getting off her position on the bed.
“It was an accident! It was actually my fault. So just bugger off,” Katie said looking dangerous.
Leanne sniffed the air haughtily and gave me a look worthy of the 666 tattooed on her skull.
“I’ll expect a new one when I get back from break Sparks or you’ll be hearing from my father,” she said sauntering out of the room.
I stuck my tongue out at her back.
Slag. Hoe. Whore. Evil wench. Female version of Mr. Wickham!
“My life sucks,” I said banging my head against the wall.
“No mine does more,” Katie said once again sulking.
“Did you just really throw a book of holy scriptures at a fan causing Satan to curse you to eternal damnation. No. My life is more sucky,” I pouted.
“Oliver just wants to be friends,” she said looking ready to cry again, “I win.”
I looked at her shocked.
“How do you know that?”
She gave me a heartbreaking smile. “I’m not stupid Ru. I’ve known for years that he’s been trying to let me down easily. I just thought that after a while he would cave. But after reading the letter it just finally clicked. I mean who ends a letter to the girl who’s in love with you saying ‘Your friend, Oliver Wood’”.
Ohh, that’s why she was so upset.
“But Kate, you can’t just give up! I mean it’s Katie and Oliver! If you two don’t work out, then there is no hope for the rest of us. I mean I mind as well be a nun considering my romantic past. Katie you’ve got to fight for the man you love!”, I said in my best inspirational voice.
“It’s no use. I rather just forget about him. I can’t go see him over break Ruthie, I just can’t.”, she said in a dejected voice.
“Fine, then I will.”
Oh my God. Did I seriously just say that!
“I’ll go with Wood to his bloody compound and fix this mess myself or my name isn’t Ruthie Elizabeth Spears!”, I said making a super hero pose.
“Spears?”, Katie asked confused.
“I meant Sparks,” I said blushing.
Hehe, Chuck + Ruthie 4eva!
Watch out Wood, here I come!
On the Train Back to King's Cross
“Ruthie are you feeling all right?”, Harry asked looking at me slightly concerned.
Awe... Harry is sooooo cute sometimes. He actually cares that I’m about one jostle away from loosing my breakfast. Such a sweetie! I just want to pat that bird’s nest hair of his.
Hey! Look at that I’m patting! Why haven’t I’ve done this before. Oh yeah... awkward stares from Harry and glares from Ginny. I forgot about the littlest Weasley’s undying love for the boy-who-lived. Whoopsies! Must retrieve hand.
“Sorry. I’ve been going through boy-with drawls,” I lied sheepishly and then smiled thinking about that gorgeous Ravenclaw boy.
Harry just cleared his throat and ran a hand through his hair which made it even messier. This ultimately caused Ginny to swoon and my heart to do a back flip.
Damn! That boy’s a fox and he doesn’t even know it!
“Yep I’m fine....” Silence, great. I wish Katie didn’t stay at Hogwarts, “So Ron what do you want for Christmas?”, I asked wanting to get back on good terms with him again. He was still sore with me about tackling him last week.
He brightened and furiously began to tell me his entire Christmas list.
“So Ruth? What do you want?”, he asked.
“A Magic Air Purifying Fan,” I said without a thought.
Hermione looked up from her book confused, “A what?”
“A Magic Air Purifying Fan,” I replied simply.
She raised an eyebrow along with Ginny.
“What else?”, Harry asked.
“Nothin’ that’s all I want,” I lied. Well.... that along with Roger Davies, a woodless Wood, and maybe some toe socks.
Ron looked like I told him that Voldemort and Harry were secret lovers.
“Ummm... I’m going to go to the bathroom....”
I sprinted out the door just as the train took a sharp turn.
I think I’m going to throw up.
Ruthie + Motion = ..... hold that thought.
Whoopsie daisy, I really should learn to aim my barfing tendencies better. Cheese and rice! Of all the people I could throw up on, it just had to be my beloved.
“So sorry Chuck! Here take my hankie!”, I said pulling out my handkerchief that has Roger’s face on it.
I know what your thinking.... DON’T JUDGE ME! I just couldn’t part with it!
“Thank you,” he said stiffly taking it from me and wiping his shoes clean. He went to hand it back to me, but I stepped away from him and shook my head.
“No, you keep it. Consider it an early Christmas present.”
He looked at me in a funny manner. Either he thought I was insane or adorable. HE THINKS I’M ADORABLE! AHH!
“I’m Jewish,” he stated dryly tossing the handkerchief in a trash can.
Do Jewish people not accept clothed tissues? Well, I’m not one to discriminate.
“Oh well, Happy.... umm... Jewish..... non-Jesus day...er....”
“Hanukkah,” Chuck said rolling his green-as-grass eyes.
“Oh yes! SPIN THAT DRADLE!”, I shouted making a spinning motion with my body that caused me to smack into the wall. Owe!
Chuck raised an eyebrow at me and then walked down the train corridor and disappeared behind a corner.
“BYE CHUCK OWL ME!.... ACTUALLY DON’T OWL ME! I REPEAT, PLEASE DON’T OWL ME!”
If there was one thing I hated more than owls (not counting Oliver), it’s trains. Trains give me the creeps. It probably has something to do with me watching Thomas the Tank Engine over and over and over and over again when I was little.
Living in the magical world as a muggle-born I can deal with a lot of strange things. A lot of strange talking things, such as animals (Malfoy the bouncing ferret) and inanimate objects (Transfiguration incident, fourth year... don’t ask). But I cannot, CANNOT Deal with talking trains.
I still have nightmares all the time about that evil blue train.
It’s just not natural trains just don’t talk.... right?
My eyes snapped shut. Oh my God. The train just spoke to me.
NO! This can’t be happening!
“Ruth,” said that eerie locomotive voice.
I heard myself whimper and kept my eyes closed. Which was a big mistake! I only saw that big gray face with wide black eyes and flushed cheeks. Not the flushed cheeks, anything but that!
Chugga, chugga, chugga, chugga, TOOT! TOOT!
Oh the horror!
The last thing I saw was his demonic smile before I blacked out.
“Is she all right?”, a deep accented voice asked with worry.
“I hope so, we found her out cold in the hallway,” another voice said.
“She wasn’t feeling well earlier either, she nearly groped Harry,” a female replied.
HEY! It’s not my fault he’s so bootylicious!
“She hates trains though,” the accented voice said softly and I felt someone stroking my hair.
“I’m sorry Oliver, we have to go Mum is already here. Tell Ruthie goodbye for us,” a male voice said.
That’s okay male voice, I’m perfectly content right here with Oliver caressing my hair.
HOLY BOLOGNA! IT’S OLIVER WOOD AND HE IS TOUCHING ME!
Before I knew it I had Wood against a wall, with my wand to his throat. Awwe... I’ve misssed this!
“Put your hands where I can see them Wood!”, I growled my wand making an imprint on his neck.
“I’ve missed you too, little Ruthie,” he said with a smirk, his brown eyes amused.
Oh no he didn’t! God help me. But hey! I'm probably going to hell anyway.
Pray for me.
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