a/n: so.. it's my first attempt at the katie bell/oliver wood thing. bare with me. i was never much of a supporter, but for some reason, i now find it rather intriguing. i mean, those other couples are getting a tad boring, seeing as they're literally everywhere.
so enjoy this story. i promise, there will be more to it than this lone chapter!
AND REVIEW
I never really imagined myself to end up like this. No, really. I thought it would all work it.
I had visions of myself, being married at the age of twenty-three. I would have my first child by twenty-four. I was suppossed to be one of the 'big guys' at the Department of Magical Games and Events. I was to be living in a wonderful just-the-right-size home with a white picket fence.
But as always, everyone knows the 'white picket fence' picture is a dud. Unless you're this really old lady or whatever.
Instead, my whole live took a turn on the left side of the road. I'm twenty-two and still single. According to my 'plans', I'm suppossed to be engaged by now. But nope - I'm single. Like the vase in front of my with a single flower.
And I hate my job. Granted, I've been accepted to the Ministry of Magical Games and Events, but not how I wanted. I thought I'd get a promotion. I thought I'd be brought up to the top. Yet, why am I still on the lowest of the low? Get this - I'm the junior secretary of Ludo Bagman's secretary's secretary. Which means there's a senior secretary of Ludo Bagman's secretary's secretary. Which means that I'm on the lowest rank possible. Alright fine - maybe not the lowest, seeing as Iam somehow linked with Ludo Bagman, but hey - it's still a junior position.
Like, come on! I'm twenty-two! You'd think they'd give me a break. But no - it's almost as if they don't even know I exist. I'm that pathetic. Honestly, without me, Ludo Bagman would be in a lot of mayhem. Seeing as I'm the lowest of the low, I'm the one who has to do all the dirty work for him.
Also known as; sort out all money problems with the goblins.
Now, I hate goblins. I have nothing against them, really. But their beady eyes just glare at you once you say the word 'gold'. It's like you're after all their gold or something. But I'm not. I'm trying to make ends meet for stupid Ludo Bagman. Stupid Ludo too-thick-in-the-head-fat-fuck Bagman.
And seeing as I'm the junior secretary, not only do I take orders from my 'boss', Owen Boister (what kind of name is Boister?), who happens to be Ludo Bagman's secretary's secretary (meaning Owen's 'boss' is Clive Hester who's boss is Ludo), I too, must take orders from Boister'ssenior secretary, Jason Jameson.
Sumb Jason Jameson who thinks he's a god. I mean, he's only one step ahead of me. Plus, he's what - twenty-seven? Hahahaha. But I'll probably still bejunior secretary by the age of twenty-seven, so I really shouldn't be laughing that much.
What I don't like about my job the most is that Boisterexpects me to call him 'boss'. Technically. he's not my boss. Ludo Bagman's my boss. And he's the boss of everyone else in the Department, seeing as he's head anyway. But nope, I must call Boister boss. Or he'll dock off some of my pay. Fucking bastard.
So here I am, five years out of Hogwarts, working as a Junior secretary to Ludo Bagman's secretary's secretary.
You know, out of my year, I was voted as most likely to succeed. Katie Bell; prefect, gryffindor Chaser, eleven OWLs - nine O's, two E's - and eleven NEWTs. I had a roll! And look at where I am now.
What pisses me off the most is that the dunces seem to have it going for them. My meaning?
Fred and George Weasley. Three OWLs each. Estimation of thirty detentions per month each, since first year. Never finished school, didn't take NEWTs. Blew up the Gryffindor common room back when I was a first year and they second. And where are they? Oh, they're successful businessmen. Who own their own company and business. Who have just expanded into chain stores. And are rich as hell. They're hosting a mini 'celebration' of their new 'chain' of success in two days time. Which I'm invited to. I swear, they're solely doing it to irritate me. They know of my working status.
Lee Jordan. Seven OWLs, quidditch commentator, six NEWTs. Not the brightest bulb when it comes to school. Yet, why is he commentating for the Wimbourne Wasps? And don't get me started on his paycheck.
I have nothing against these three gentlemen. In fact, we're still all very close friends - surprisingly. I didn't think they would keep in touch with me; afterall, I was a year below them and didn't hang around them as much as Angelina Johnston or Alicia Spinnet. But we've managed a friendship. Oh, and Alicia and Angelina too, seeing as Angelina's with Fred and Alicia's Angelina's best friend and all.
But what bugs me the most is that the most likely to succeed studentdid succeed. She got her wish; to be accepted into the Ministry of Magical Games and Events. But then her dream gave up on her, and she's here, at the moment sitting pathetically in her cubicle, doodling - or making continuous circles with her quill - on a parchment of her 'boss' that she's suppossed to be looking over.
And it doesn't help that I'm a single woman. Everyone's got someone nowadays. Lee's got some girl I don't know. Fred has Angelina. George is currently flitting from woman to woman, and even Alicia - who has the lowest self-esteem ever I might add - has landed herself a boyfriend.
Look at me, I'm the only pathetic loser of the group.
It's not cool how thigns tend to backfire on me. I mean, hey - I was popular back in school! Not to be popous or anything, but being a Chaser for the Gryffindor Quidditch team has its perks. I was part of the team that, for the first time since the legendary Charlie Weasley had been captain, did Gryffindor House actually win the Quidditch Cup. I had many admirers, such as Roger Davies, Cormac McLaggen, Michael Corner, and even little Colin Creevey. Creppy, yes, but hey - it was still flattering.
So howcome I'm still alone?
Maybe I should stop complaining so much. I know other people who have had worse times than myself. Like Harry Potter. Saving the world at such a young age. But he's and Auror now, so I guess that beats my job with a ten point hit.
"Bell! What are you doing?"
Oh shit.
"You are suppossed to be analyzing that parchment!"
Double shit.
"And now you're Drawing on it?"
Well, let's just say my job is full of shit.
I look up meekly from my desk. And there, standing in front of me, bold a brass, is my 'boss'. With - oh, that little snitch - Jason Jameson at his heels, smirking.
"I was reading this, sir," I answer quickly, putting down my quill and straightening my posture.
"Reading? You call drawing - what are those, circles? - reading?" Boister screeched, grabbing the parchment from my fingertips.
"Honest, sir - "
"Honest? When have you ever been honest?"
Ouch. That hurts. But I don't blame him. I admit, I have told a few white lies during my five year span at the place. But white lies mean lies that save people from getting hurt with the truth. Like that time I told Jameson that Ludo Bagman would deny his Christmas gift of his crystalized fruit basket. Okay, that wasn't true - Ludo Bagman would accept anything free. But he gave the basket to me instead. So it really did work both ways.
"I told you, Mr. Boister," James says, leaning over Boister's left shoulder. "You really should keep an eye on her - she seems preoccupied these days."
I swear, that dumbass is out to get me.
"And right you are, Jameson!" cries Boister, turning around to face the dirty half-assed rat. "Which is whyyou and Bell will now be doing paperwork together! I am a genius, thinking up ways to save time and whatnot."
Now it's my turn to smirk. Jameson's face turns suddenly pale, his smile going down by notches.
"But sir - " he says, but is cut off by Boister.
"Don't argue with me, boy!" (I don't know why he calls him 'boy' when he himself is just thirty) "You're the one who said she needed to be watched over! With you, not only will Bell here be watched over, but things will get done in half the time!"
Not wanting to get into a feud with Boister, Jason Jameson stalks out of my cubicle, looking defeated. Well, he doesn't need to look that bummed out! It's bad enough that I now have to work with him - but he doesn't need to make it out like it's the worst thing in the entire world. Gosh.
"I expect you to give me a full report on the parchment by noon, Bell," Boister commands, raising his eyebrows at me. "I do not want to ever, ever, see this pish-posh again."
"Yes, sir."
This is unbelieveable.
I hate working with Jameson. He's rude, aggravating, boisterous, arrogant, pompous, loudy, demanding and all other things negative. I remember this one time, after a couple of months since I've been accepted to this dump, we were paired to do an assignment together. I was what - eighteen? Yeah, and he was twenty-three. Voldemort was still here. We were suppossed to sort out another complication dealing with Ludo and the goblins (yet again, surprise surpirse). Well, we had a feeling that these particular set of goblins were still on the good side - meaning they weren't on anyone's side. And when we got there, all that stupid guy did was yell at me to go up to Norfglote - who apparantly, is the chief goblin of theGwigglediggle clan - and sort it out. While he stood there, doing absolutely nothing. And after we finished, all he did was yell at me saying I wasn't persuadable enough, and how he could've done a better job. Yeah, better job my ass. He literally pissed his pants off.
"BELL!"
What the hell did I do now?
"Oi! Get your owl, Bell! It's going to peck down our windows!"
I look frantically around, and there, at the opposite end of the floor, flittering around madly, is my beautiful brown owl, Scoop. I run to the window, ignoring the yells coming from my co-workers.
"You know, the owl can just fly into the building, Bell!"
"That owl is always here!"
"Get that thing, trained, Bell! It's driving everyone crazy!"
I open the window quickly, and grab Scoop, returning to my raggedy cubicle, once again, flanked by unwatned comments from my co-workers.
"You need a new owl, Bell."
"How is it that your owl can cause this much disruption?"
"Great going, Bell. Your owl made me lose my train of thoughts."
Train of thoughts! We work at the Department of Magical Games and Events! Not much brain power is needed for what we do! Well, for my job yes, seeing as all I ever do is persuade goblins - which requires a huge amount of thinking as they're stubborn as stone - and going over parchments.
"So, Scoop. What do you have for me today?" I ask my owl, who is now in the safety of my cubicle, resting on my desk.
He holds out his leg, with a letter attatched to it. I untie the string, taking the letter with me.
Greetings, Katie!
Just a small reminder that the party's the day after tomorrow. Which means in two days. That's a sunday, so George and I are hoping it's convinient for you. You can bring a guest if you want - just make sure they don't mind being pranked on. Not that we'd be pranking you, of course!
Hoping to see you soon,
Fred Weasley
Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes
He's just doing all this to spite me. He knows my boss hates interruption of any kind during working hours. He knows I'll be there and that I don't need a reminder. He gave me an invitation three week prior from the date of the party, and for two whole weeks, every day he's sent me a stupid reminder. He knows sunday is convinient for me, since Boister doesn't come in on sundays. And he knows I'll wind up going alone, since I don't have a guest to bring with me. Or a boyfriend, which is what he's hinting at. He is such a prick sometimes. Worse than Percy. But what the hell - he's still one of my best friends.
So in two day's time, I shall not only be the only one there sans date, but I will be the one with the most pathetic life. In all aspects. Knowing Fred and George, their idea of a mini celebration is probably some big fiesta with everyone they know invited. Heh.
I think I'll continue to doodle my circles on this damned piece of parchment.