My name is Katie Bell and I have a problem. Well, I have many problems, but my current problem has been haunting me for the last two months. See, I'm a tomboy. Boys to me are, well—friends, nothing more. In fact, I prefer being around boys more than girls because they're easy to figure out.
Over the past five years I've spent at Hogwarts, I've come to love the three manly ingredients to happiness: food, sports, and alcohol. And I was happy with being the only girl that was in the center of all the action, the girl who wasn't concerned with dating, the girl that guys liked hanging out with.
And then it happened, my problem: hormones. I was an unsuspecting innocent bystander, and out of nowhere the hormones hit me…and all I could think of was boys, morning, noon and night. I could not find a cure.
My obsession started out subtle; I bought a few magazines with pictures of male models on the front. It was extremely innocent. I stared at the pictures and my hunger was satisfied for a few days. I thought I was making progress; I was wrong.
Several weeks later, I had lost all control. I was running to the store like a maniac buying up all the axe men's shower gel I could find, only to return home and take extremely long baths where all I did was sit and smell the fragrance. I had the hormones, and I had them bad.
My father pretended not to notice; my mother was thrilled. She had begun to worry that I would never blossom. All summer, almost every morning, she would walk around the house and proclaim in a sing-song sort of voice that love was in the air. And I hated every minute of it.
My two younger brothers pretended that they didn't notice. I don't know how they couldn't. Before, I was calm collective, and a tad bit quidditch obsessed. Now I couldn't go five minutes into a friendly quidditch game without calling a break in order to asses the state of my hair. And I have never, and I mean never been concerned with my appearance; ponytails were my way of life before the hormones. It's gotten so bad that I'm lucky if I can get ready for anything in under forty-five minutes. Primping, priming, and beautifying have become my daily routine. I can even spend in excess of two hours just brushing my long straight mousy brown hair. It's pathetic.
And to top everything off, I've become jumpy around members of the opposite sex. Me, Katie Bell, tomboy extraordinaire.
On my family vacation earlier in the summer I had discovered that speech was a major issue. I had attempted to get into a heated debate about the legitimacy of Puddlemere United's ability to win the cup this year with a boy we met on our tour of Rome, when I suddenly noticed how striking the boy was that I was trying to argue with. I could not draw my eyes away from the blonde streaks in his hair, and was forced to just nod my head through the entire argument like some love-sick puppy. I spent the rest of the trip fawning over the boy and his hair's amazing ability to move in the absence of wind.
After several more traumatic experiences, I had finally come to the conclusion that the only possible cure for me would be to actually obtain a boyfriend, whom I could shower my hormones on. Problem was I had no idea, whatsoever how to even begin going about courting a guy. I didn't have any girlfriends to consult with because I had spent all my years at Hogwarts trying to avoid the females who were obsessed in creating hormone-induced drama. But now, I had become one of them. I had become a girly girl.
I dreaded returning to Hogwarts now. Not only did I have to come up with a plan to find a boyfriend, I was also unsure about how to present my newly found hormones to my friends. It was impossible not to notice my continuous drooling at the first sight of chest hair, my inability to form coherent sentences once I caught sight of a male, and my sudden jumpiness around guys in general. So I had come up with a plan. I would disguise the hormones and all would be well.
But, how was I going to disguise the hormones? I felt going back to the way I used to dress would just cause me more pain than it was worth, which is why I disbanded that idea immediately. I had almost reached the point where I was going to ask my mother for advice, but she had started singing love songs again, which repulsed me also from that path of action.
I knew my friends would not like the change. Which is why I am paralyzed standing here before the entrance of platform 9 and ¾ wondering if I should just turn back and call it quits.
I had prepared meticulously for my departure; I had spent hours upon hours preparing the perfect outfit of a navy t-shirt and a pair of dark wash jeans paired with an old pair of sneakers. I had straightened my hair for the occasion, something that I had never done before, and hoped that I looked like I wasn't trying too hard.
"Kay-tee?" my brother whined from behind me, startling out of my doubts. "C'mon. What are you waiting for?" I threw a dirty glare at him and sucked in some air. I would ignore it. I would ignore the hormones. And they would go away. I was…sure.
The red brick wall stood menacingly before me. I watched as several people whizzed past where I stood, hurrying off to their trains, excited to get the day started.
I sighed, wishing I too had somewhere else to be, smoothed my shirt down over my jeans and raised my chin. I crossed the barrier with my eyes clamped tightly shut and felt the whoosh of air whisk past me. I moved quickly out of the way of the barrier, knowing that Matty felt no compassion for slow people like me.
I smelt the smoke from the train and heard a babble of voices and opened my eyes to see the Hogwarts express waiting on the tracks. I frowned, secretly wishing that I had missed the train, and was unable to return to Hogwarts. But alas, lady luck was somewhere else today
I heard my brother clamor across the barrier behind me, and watched him as he dragged his trunk across the floor to stand next to me.
"Isn't it great to be going back? I thought summer was never going to end." He said, his enthusiasm overflowing. I felt sick.
"Once you get to be old like me, the train looses some of the excitement." I said glumly looking nervously at the groups of people that were line up outside the train. Everyone looked as if they felt as Matty did: pleased to be returning back to their home away from home.
"What are you talking about? You always love coming back."
"Nevermind, Matty." I murmured as I saw a few other second years approaching from the left. "I'll see ya later. Don't get into too much trouble."
"I won't if you won't, Katie." He said smiling as he made his way towards his friends. I threw him a nervous smile and then turned to look at the train. If I hurried, there was a chance that there would be an empty compartment. I could enjoy the train ride alone…with my hormones.
With one last painful glance back at the barrier, I set off towards the billowing train. My sneakers slapped heavily upon the stone floor, and my bags felt heavy, as if I had packed a couple nuggets of pure lead.
Everyone seemed to be in my way today, and with all the parents hugging their children. As I passed the myriads of excited students lined up outside the train, I felt my dread hit me full force. It was worse than I thought. Every where I looked there were people holding hands, kissing, molesting each other; it was revolting. And yet, I was strangely gripped for the first time with jealousy.
I had just managed to get past a pair of lovebirds who seemed to be stuck together in several different inappropriate places when I saw them: two boys who stood taller than the rest of the crowd with flaming red hair, Fred and George. They would be my ultimate downfall.
I ducked my head, and made a break for the train. I had just reached the steps when I heard my name ring out behind me. I groaned loudly.
"Ms. Bell, I believe you've dropped something." I turned to see Fred standing behind me, his hand outstretched, holding a handkerchief. The grin on his face told me something was up. The handkerchief trick was one of the oldest tricks in the book: give a lady a handkerchief with some sort of acid or something on it and see if she likes you back. Real classy.
"Why how did you know?" I asked sweetly, deciding I might as well go along with the charade. I reached out my hand, reluctantly, and gripped the handkerchief with bated breath.
Nothing happened. No explosions, no magical maladies, and most importantly I had not been hurt in the name of humor.
I stood there dumbly, on the stairs staring at Fred, confused at what I should do next.
"Erm. Thanks."
"You're very welcome my dear!" Exclaimed Fred as he threw his body into a deep bow. I was confused. Very confused.
"Are you…er…feeling well?" I asked while I shook the handkerchief violently, still expecting foul play. He continued to smile sweetly.
"Ah don't mind him, Katie," said George, startling me as he slung his arm over my shoulder from behind. "He's decided to become a gentleman this year and I cannot persuade him otherwise." I stared at George, more specifically at George's well toned arm, for several heartbeats before I realized he was talking to me.
I coughed nervously. "Well we'll have to be working on that one won't we, George? Honestly Fred, don't you know that you can accomplish no mayhem while being concerned about the well being of others." I stared at Fred as he continued to grin like the Cheshire cat.
Fred was one odd duck. He always decided to embark on some strange personal journey at the beginning of each year. He'd never actually seen a task through for the time that I'd known him. George, meanwhile, would mock his twin endlessly as he struggled through the unattainable resolutions. I secretly thought George was most likely wishing that he'd come up with the ideas first. The twins were very competitive.
"Hey, Oliver's got us a compartment reserved up front." I felt a tug on my arm as George began leading me into the train, towards a compartment. I had to play it cool. I had almost lost myself back there staring at George like he was a piece of meat, honestly.
The train was filled with students that kept on darting in and out of the compartments, excitement plain on their faces. We were almost sideswiped several times as we made our way to the front of the train, but luckily there were no serious injuries. By the time we reached the compartment I had convinced myself that I could handle this. I was in control of myself….and my rampant hormones.
That was, until I saw him. Oliver Wood.
I had always heard the girls in my dorm room over the years muttering about how gorgeous Oliver was, but had never seen it in him. I mean, sure he had some pretty prominent cheek bones and tresses of chocolate brown hair that hung in an unkempt over his dark eyes, but I never saw why the other girls would fawn over him. Until now.
He looked like he was in the middle of a photo shoot for some exotic brand of underwear--minus the fact that he was wearing clothes. His posture was impeccable, his skin flawless, and his red polo shirt matched his khaki pants amazingly. I could see his chest muscles popping out from beneath his polo shirt; it took everything I had within me to not drop my jaw and drool.
He looked up from the book he had been reading at the sound of our entrance, and gave me a smile. His smile made me want to melt into a puddle on the floor. It was safe to say that the hormones had taken over.
Fred and George bounded into their seats with ease, as I continued to stand awkwardly in the doorframe. I willed my body to move, but I was frozen, frozen in a daze.
"Hey, Katie! How was your summer?" His voice was deep and inviting--inviting enough to send chills down my spine.
"Err." I giggled nervously as I finally managed to stagger over to the seat next to Fred. I just barely managed to choke out, "Good. Yours?"
"I worked on quidditch plays quite a bit. I think I've got some really good ones in mind for this year. I think we've got a real shot at winning the cup this year"
I frowned. I was secretly wishing that he would have noticed the change in my appearance. But then again, I was also lucky that someone as beautiful as him could remember my name.
"You're the only person I know who would spend the holidays thinking of ways to get back to work." Fred said, smirking.
"Oh yeah?" said Oliver, eyebrows raised. "And what exactly did you do this summer."
"Absolutely nothing. That's what you're supposed to do. You're supposed to get so bored with doing nothing that you becoming desperate to return to school so that you can escape your own boredom." Oliver stared at Fred blankly.
George cleared his throat. "What Fred means to say, is that we spent the entire summer working on our products. Weasley's Wizard's Wheezes are in full production."
"Oooh. Did you develop anything good?" I asked curious, hormones momentarily forgotten.
"Why yes, yes we did. And you will be the first one we'll be testing out our experiments on."
"You're such a friend." I said tartly.
"We only have you're best interests at heart you know." Fred chimed in.
"Yes, people would still love you even if you were missing an eye." George smirked.
I frowned. "You guy's are sick."
"For once, I have to agree with Katie on that one." Oliver said.
There was a lurch beneath our feet, and several moments later, I looked out the window to see that the train had started to move. We were on our way to Hogwarts.
After a short lull in the conversation, George and Fred decided to chatter about they're trip to Egypt over the summer. I tried to listen, honestly, but I couldn't keep my eyes from wandering over to Oliver. I was secretly hoping that his shirt had somehow split open. Not that I wanted to see him naked. Well, I actually wouldn't be at all disappointed if it did happen.
I joined in the conversation after a bit, talking about my trip to Rome, while Oliver and George engaged in a game of exploding snap. I shot secret looks at Oliver hoping that he would look at me, but not once did I catch him gazing in my direction.
After we had gotten our fill of treats from the trolley lady, the boys lolled back into a discussion about the new quidditch plays. I lost interest once I found out how much work the chasers were going to be doing this year. I thought back on several of Oliver's past schemes for game winning plays and groaned; they usually involved someone getting injured, quite frequently me. Oliver said it was because I had slow reflexes and I had started to believe him after my tenth trip to the hospital wing.
It took me several seconds to notice that the compartment had grown silent. I looked quickly up at George who, to my horror, was staring at me.
"You know Katie, there's something different about you. I just can't put my finger on it." George said looking thoughtful. I glared. I looked out the window, hoping that the conversation was going to end there.
"I think it's her hair," stated Fred whilst shamelessly ogling at me.
"Yeah, I'm wearing it down. What a change." I rolled my eyes. Then I ran a hand through my hair, momentarily wondering if there was a mirror somewhere nearby. Ugh.
"No. I mean you're acting differently." George said pointedly. I felt like lunging across the compartment and strangling him.
"I-I-I-don't know what you're talking about." I stammered. I knew they were going to see through my charade. They would see me for the girly girl I had become.
I looked quickly out the door, hoping for a diversion, but found nothing. I had no where to run.
"What's up Katie?" Fred asked leaning across his seat to look further into my eyes.
"You know she has been a little bit quieter than usual." Oliver chimed in. I would have glared at him too, but I figured that that wasn't the best of ideas.
"You all need your heads examined." Conversation died again, and I busied myself with untying and retying my shoelaces. I forced myself to stay calm but I secretly knew that this conversation was far from being over.
Fred had just begun to discuss quidditch games that have occurred over the summer, when George daftly proclaimed,
"I've got it!" I gulped and said a quick prayer.
"Katie's got the itch."
I was horrified. My mother's rendition of being bitten by the love bug seemed suddenly a lot less severe.
Fred and Oliver looked confused. "Eh, the itch?" asked Fred.
"You know, she wants to shag the entire male population now." Both Fred's and Oliver's faces lit up before they both starting chortling. My face was now redder than a tomato, and I wished I was dead.
I felt like I had to defend myself. "It's the hormones! They struck out of nowhere!"
"Ah yes, those lethal little devils, in the end they conquer us all," said Fred, grinning broadly. "Why I was only a wee lad of eight when they struck me."
"I remember that," George said, sounding amused. "Mum and Dad thought you had swallowed some type of poison. They still to this day think that you suffered some minor brain deformities from the fever you had."
"Yeah, well your itch wasn't exactly roses either," Fred countered. "What was that girls name that you mauled, anyways? You know the one that got a restraining order against you?"
Even in my foul mood, I smirked at George as the blood rushed to his cheeks.
"She was asking for it. No one dresses that provocatively anymore. It's against the law."
"She was wearing a plaid pants, for Merlin's sake!" Fred roared. Oliver in the corner couldn't contain his laughter as the book he was holding dropped to the floor with a loud clunk. I clutched my sides as my anger dissipated with my giggles.
George scowled. "Oh yeah, well what about our buddy Oliver here?"
Oliver straightened up and glared at George. He threw an apprehensive look towards me. My breath got caught in my throat.
"Okay, okay. I was thirteen. Her name was Jessica Beasley. She was a seventh year."
I gasped. "Have a taste for the Cougars there, do you?"
"She had some kind of hold on me!" Oliver said guiltily. "With her long curly blonde hair, I couldn't help myself. I asked her to the winter formal, and to my surprise, she said yes."
"Don't be so modest," said Fred, airily. "You know that every girl in the school wants you. They wanted you when you were eleven and now they want you even more."
Oliver scoffed. "Whatever."
"It's true." George smiled and leaned towards Oliver. He then did his best impression of a younger girl's high voice, saying, "Oh Oliver, I'm in desperate need of help on my Charms homework."
"Just because I happen to be good at Charms, doesn't mean--,"
"—that charms actually means pleasurable favors?" George finished, grinning madly. Oliver made a swipe at him from where he sat as Fred and I continued to chuckle.
George straightened up and looked at me again. "Seriously, though. Katie, if you're looking for someone to shag, always remember I have your best interests at heart. And I'm known for breeding beautiful, red-headed children."
I rolled my eyes. "Even though I'm hopelessly attracted to you, I think I'll have to pass." George threw a false pout in my direction.
"It will be awfully hard, though," I added with a smile. I was thrilled to admit that I was feeling a little bit more at ease about this whole hormone issue now that it was out in the open. Now at least if I stopped to drool, at least my friends would know that I wasn't going into some type of seizure or something.
The skies outside of the compartment began to darken as the train trundled further along its path towards Hogwarts. I looked at my watch quickly and realized that I should probably change into my robes.
On my way out of the compartment, Fred and George followed me muttered something about checking up on Ron and Harry. I gave them a quick wave and a smile and watched them as the whizzed down the hall of the train.
I changed quickly into my tailored robes, noting that it was getting colder inside of the train. I looked outside at the looming clouds in the distance and frowned. The cold would be here soon, and as much as I loved snow, the cold weather that went along with it was such a bother. Especially when Oliver had no sensitivity and thought that quidditch practices in below zero weather were…exhilarating.
My mind was so focused on dreading the upcoming winter that I entered back into the compartment without a second thought, plopping down in the seat next to the window. After several moments of assessing the roaming hillsides, I looked at the seat across me, and found Oliver staring at me.
My heart started hammering in overdrive and my hands began to tremble where they lay in my lap. My palms were clammy and I hoped that I had applied enough clinical strength deodorant earlier this morning.
"What?" I stammered.
Oliver smirked. "Nothing."
I had to look at something, something besides his quizzical face. I was sure that he would notice if I kept on staring at him, so I decided to turn my gaze upon my hands. This was going to be a long last leg of the journey if he kept on staring at me.
"So have any boy's caught your fancy?"
My mouth went dry. "No. At this stage of development, its just boys in general."
"Ah, I see."
I snuck a glance up at him, and found him to be staring off into the distant hills. How could this be happening to me? I asked myself miserably. How in the world was I supposed to deal with developing a psychopathic obsession for one of my best friends?
As much as I didn't want to do it, I had to say something, anything, just so that the awkward silence would end. Awkward silences make me nervous.
"Um, Oliver?" I squeaked. His gaze turned back upon me and I felt my legs begin to shake again. I ran a shaky hand through my hair.
"How do you get people to…you know….like you?" I finished lamely. I had balked beneath the pressure. My desire to know had overrun my fear of Oliver as a man.
He smiled and looked off in the distance again. "There are so many rules that you have to follow, some many loopholes and catches. You have no idea what you're getting yourself into."
"What do you mean rules? Do males have some sort of code that they live by?" I was blatantly curious this time. The great Oliver Wood, had rules?
"Well, I do, at least. For instance, whenever I like a girl, one of the very first things I do is set out several pieces of bait to see if the girl also interested in me."
"Are we talking about fishing, or dating?" I teased.
He rolled his eyes. "Do you want me to continue?"
"Please do." I blushed as he sent me a smile that showcased all of his perfectly whitened teeth. I prayed that he hadn't seen me.
"Anyways, if the girl picks up on the bait, I'll ask her out on a date, and then I go from there."
"What kind of bait do you put out there?"
Oliver scratched his chin. "I don't know if I should be telling you this. You could ruin me, you know."
I groaned. "Honestly, Oliver. Who am I going to tell? You, Fred, and George are the only people I ever talk to. I just figure you have the most experience, so you must have the best advice. And I need some serious advice. I'm a desperate woman"
"Yes, but you're also forgetting one major problem." He leaned forward, across the aisle and closed the distance between us. He proceeded to tap me gently on the nose. I about died.
"You're a girl. Things work differently on guys than they do on girls."
"Well, some of the rules must overlap." I said lamely. He still hadn't slid back in his seat, and I was becoming uncomfortably aware of how heavy my breathing was. These Hormones were going to be the end of me.
Oliver looked at me for a moment, before his eyes lit up in excitement.
"You know, you have a point." He sat back in his chair, and I had to hold back the sigh of disappointment that desperately wanted to surface.
He raised his eyebrows. "So you really want a boyfriend?"
I nodded. "Yeah, maybe the hormones would back off a little then." He chuckled darkly at that.
"I doubt that, but I think that this little experiment could get interesting."
"Experiment?" I asked, not liking the sound of excitement in his voice.
"We're going to make you irresistible, Katie Bell." He grinned. I also grinned, but I was grinning because I enjoyed the way my name rolled off of his tongue.
"What if it's impossible? What if I end up dying a miserable old witch because of your less than stellar advice?" I probed, when he didn't continue.
"And if you don't have a boyfriend by the end of the year with all of the charms I teach you…" he stared off for another moment, and then his face lit up. "I'll eat all my words and do anything you want me to for an entire day." I couldn't breathe.
"And if I have a boyfriend, what's your payment?" I watched him closely as the corners of his lips slowly upturned in a grin.
"Same thing, you have to do anything I want, for an entire day." My stomach quivered.
"Doing what? Coping your quidditch play book, piece by piece?" Oliver just looked at me. He didn't say anything, and that made me extremely nervous. Ah—what the hell, I had nothing to lose.
"Okay, deal. Make me irresistible, Oliver Wood." I held out my hand.
"It'll be a cinch, Katie Bell." Oliver said gripping my hand. I felt a shock run throughout my body, and if I wasn't dreaming, it felt as if he held my hand far longer than necessary.
But several heartbeats later, Fred and George whooshed back into the room and Oliver dropped my hand quickly. I sighed in regret.
"Katie, please don't tell me that Oliver has already satisfied your animalistic needs while we were gone," George said sadly, plopping down next tome, acting defeated
"Oh Merlin is that all you think about?" I hissed.
"Yes, now that you've joined the league of the hormone induced, you to will be defenseless against the powers of the lustful mind." George said, grinning. I was fairly certain that he was one hundred percent, correct. I wouldn't admit that to him though.
"Actually," Oliver chimed in, "Katie and I made a deal that you two will have to help me with." Fred's ears perked up and George leaned forward in his seat. I rolled my eyes, exasperated. Men were always down for the dirty stuff.
"I told Katie we're going to make her irresistible. You know, give her all the information on how to hook women," he threw a glance at me, "well, in her case men."
"I like where this is going," said Fred, grinning.
Oliver continued. "And if by the end of the year, she doesn't have some bloke madly in love with her, we are all slaves to do her bidding for an entire day."
"Slaves?" asked George, with false hesitation.
"Yes, to do my bidding….my pleasurable bidding." I said, laughing.
George grinned. "I like it."
"This is going to be awesome." Fred said.
"It's set in stone, then." Oliver said with one last, long glance at me. I looked away, awkwardly, and my eyes fell upon the castle that was looming in the distance. I could only dream of what I had just gotten myself into. I couldn't brush off the nervous feeling that I had somehow just sold my soul to the devil. But what a hot sexy devil he was.