Femme Fatale

Femme Fatale

Chapter Five: Awakening,

At precisely 7:46 and seventeen seconds, Katie stirred.

Oliver snapped up, his hair sticking up in brown cowlicks.

She groaned. "Uuurrghnng." Then she coughed a few times. "I'm in the hospital wing, aren't I?"

"Yes."

Katie's eyes remained closed. "Did I get stone drunk last night?"

Oliver blinked. "Um, no."

"So this bloody fucking headache isn't from a hangover?"

"No."

"And I'm not the newest two-dollar whore amongst the Slytherins?"

"Nope."

Katie sighed. "Then I'm going back to sleep."

Oliver poked her. "Wake up."

Madame Pomfrey hurried over. "Why, in the name of all that is holy, are you poking the poor girl?"

"Yeah, Oliver, why in the name of all that is holy, are you poking me?"

The woman's eyes lit up. "You're awake!"

"Most apparently," Katie said sweetly. Her eyes were still closed.

"How are you feeling, dear?"

"Um...odd?" Katie sat up in bed and promptly hit herself on the headboard. "Ow." Her eyes fluttered open.

"Do you know where you are?" Madame Pomfrey's eyes were wide with concern.

"Hell?"

The Concerned Eye quickly turned into the I Like Knives Eye.

But Katie remained unfazed and still as sarcastic as before. "Well, honey, I seem to be in a bed up against the wall with the ugly painting of the cows in the hospital wing. No, wait-" Katie scanned the room with an intense look. "Yes, I am in fact in a bed up against the wall with the ugly painting of the cows in the hospital wing."

Madame Pomfrey pretended not to hear her and went rummaging in the cupboards again.

Katie gave a Bridget Bardot pout, and the gray circles under her eyes intensified. She looked up at Oliver and wrenched her hand from his grasp.

"Jesus Christ, man, what the hell happened?"

Pomfrey entered the room again. "I was hoping you could tell me." She paused. "And Mister Wood if he refuses to go away."

Katie crossed her arms, wincing as the cuts stretched. "I-I'm not sure. Exactly. Ish."

The woman suddenly looked very old. She sat down on the bed and said gently, "Please try to remember, Kath- Katie." She placed a hand on her shoulder. Katie swept it away like the hand was an unwanted insect.

"Why?" she hissed fiercely. Obviously, she didn't want to be poked at.

"Because, you silly girl, I need to know how to treat you. Without knowing what happened, I could poison you."

Katie's lip started to curl, but she restrained herself and instead struggled to remember. Then, she began to speak.

<<<<< Oliver's POV >>>>>

"I was livid," Katie began. "Completely furious at a certain Quidditch captain for practically stalking me to tell me exactly how well I was going to do."

I stared at the sterile tile floor. So it was my fault. Dammit. Now I'd have to live with that knowledge for the rest of my life.

"So I went outside, walked across the grounds, and stood between Hagrid's cabin and the Forbidden Forest. Naturally, being me, I went to the Forest. A ways in, I bumped into a centaur- Peleus, I think his name was- and he informed me that I was in "grave danger" and that I was written all over the stars. I thought he was, like, impersonating Trelawney, so I ignored him.

"Stupid...It took forever to get to the edge of the forest. When I finally got there, I saw the perfect climbing tree. I went up, and almost fell asleep. But then I heard a noise. I didn't really try to analyze the situation. It was- It was so bloody cold.

"I was, like, fricking going crazy. I was spinning and then I was stopped. Spinning while I was stopped? I dunno. Then suddenly I was on the ground, and it was so freezing, I could barely feel, but what I could feel..." She shuddered. "And then I was here."

Ah. Impulse to hug- three, two, one-

"What the hell are you doing?" Katie furrowed her thin eyebrows and moved away from my arms.

"Ummm....hug?"

"Nooo! Back away from me with your outstretched arms!"

I dropped them at my sides like a trained seal.

"Hellhound," Madame Pomfrey announced suddenly.

"Wha-?" Both me and Katie were confused.

"Saliva...poisonous...antidote...six hours...Severus!" The woman stood up, and still talking to herself, nearly flew out of the hospital wing.

For a few seconds, Katie and I just stared at each other.

Just as I opened my mouth, Katie held up a hand. "Don't even start with me."

"I was just- Quidditch-" I had nothing else to say. I couldn't make a declaration. Not here. Not now.

But it was obviously a mistake. Once I brought Quidditch into the conversation, I could see her give me with the same look she had when she talked about Professor Snape. Me. And Snape. Equals in this girl's eyes.

"Oliver?" Her voice was calm. Expect the worst. I mentally braced myself for the Wrath of Katie Bell.

"Yes?"

"If I died, would it be worse for you or the team?"

I gulped and decided to be distant. "Well, you are an excellent Chaser-"

"I KNEW IT!"

"Huh?"

"A commodity. A thing. A Chaser. Something to be owned, protected, and not let out of your sight." She jabbed her finger accusingly at me. "I. Knew. It."

"Kate-" But she was on a roll.

"Don't you 'Kate' me! The first thing you probably did when you heard that I was bleeding, and more dead than alive is start jumping up and down, fanning yourself, yelling 'OH MY GOD, I'M GONNA LOSE A CHASER, I'M GONNA LOSE A CHASER!'"

"No, Kate-"

"If I died, It would be the end of Quidditch, not to mention my life! IN THAT ORDER!" By this time, Katie was yelling.

"Well, I'm SORRY!" Suddenly very tired of trying to calm her down, I was ready to get up and leave.

But then she shut her eyes tight, placed a hand to her temple, and whispered, "I'm sorry, Ol."

She pressed her lips together.

With all that black hair, surrounded with white skin, white sheets, a white room, and that bright lighting, Katie looked about twelve years old.

I stopped. "For what, Kate?"

"For being so insufferably me."

"Don't be sorry."

"Too late."

"You hungry?" I forced a smile.

The Fifth Year smiled weakly back. "Sure."

Finally something for me to do.

Just as I left the room, I saw her stand up and peer out a small window with a pained look on her face.

*

I ran. You better believe I did. I ran like I had never run in my life.

I passed people in the hallways, and I laughed. Suddenly, the whole 'Ohmigod, Katie's gonna die!' situation seemed very amusing. Or maybe it was just relief.

Suddenly I stopped. I sat on the stairs, trying to remember where the entrance to the goddamn kitchens was, and then remembered that I had to tickle a pear. So, I took off running again. After a few minutes, I found myself in front of a painting of a couple of fruits, and I reached over (feeling extremely stupid) and rubbed the pear. It giggled. I pulled back, alarmed.

The painting swung back, smacking me in the side of the face. I recovered quickly and climbed in.

About a dozen house-elves bowed, and one she-elf stepped forward, and said in a wavering voice "What can Fabala be doing for you?"

"Ummmm..." Muffins! Katie loved muffins! "Can I -err- have some muffins?"

In a time period of about fifteen seconds, a silver platter piled high with at least a dozen muffins, a tray of butter, jam, and marmalade, and a few knives and napkins was thrust into my hands.

They bowed again. "Anything else?"

I shook my head. "No-and thanks."

"No trouble." The elves went back to preparing breakfast.

So I went back to running. But when I got back to the hospital wing, I nearly fainted.

Katie was standing barefoot, clad in sterile white pygamas, her hands covered in blood.

She looked up at me, lips parted, and held up a piece of broken, blood covered glass. "It's broken. I broke it."

A fierce breeze stirred her hair. I shivered. Behind her, were the tiny window had been, there were only a few shards of glass that clung onto the frame. An array of glass pieces littered the floor, sparkling like crushed diamonds in the early-morning sunlight.

I gaped. She clenched the other piece of glass in her left hand, closing her eyes as it pierced the skin. Crimson blood, hot and thick, dripped to the floor, pooling around her foot.

"Feels kind of nice, actually."

"What?!"

She opened her eyes. I looked down, avoiding her intense, green gaze. "Reminds me that I'm alive enough to bleed, to die."

"Suicidal?" Just one word.

"More maniacal." Her face was serene.

"You're crazy?"

"Aren't we all?"

I raised an eyebrow.

"If life doesn't make you crazy, why bother living it?"

Good question. Excellent, really. But better not to answer.

"Sometimes, on those nights where everything is silver and silent and calm, and I'm awake while the whole world is asleep, I'll wonder why I even bother." Katie said all of this quietly, turning a piece of glass over and over in her hand. "But then I remember you."

I about died. Keep talking, Kate. Actually, no. Shut up.

"Without me, who would squash your ego? Who would snap you out of your little dreamland? Who would annoy the hell out of you?" Katie smiled. "Huh? Not your little fan club, that's for sure."

I had a fan club? "Ummm...."

She held up a hand. "Rhetorical question. Don't answer that."

"Katie, drop the glass."

She obliged, smile faded. The sound of glass on the tile shattered the silence.

"Walk slowly towards the sink."

Katie walked, and stared into the square mirror hanging over the sink.

Sunlight filtered through the curtains, illuminating the room with a sort of hazy gold glow.

Her hair, like black Christmas tinsel, was framed with a halo of light. Can we say 'fallen angel'?

She leaned towards her reflection, studying herself closely.

"What're you doing?" I queried, from a good twenty feet away.

"Counting the rings around my eyes," Katie answered curtly, her eyes still glued to the mirror.

I walked over, and came around behind her.

We were extremely close by this time.

Katie was tall and slender, and my head fit perfectly about half a foot above her shoulder.

Trying no to do anything stupid, I reached around Katie's bare arm, and turned on the tap.

Hot, soapy water flowed out.

Gently taking Katie's hands, I put them under the water.

She didn't flinch as the bubbly liquid washed the shards of the window from her cuts.

The water was scented with chamomile and lavender- my hands would be smelling girlish all day.

Not that it mattered. Because it didn't.

"You're shaking," Katie whispered.

Damn straight I was. I had never been so nervous in my entire life.

I started to pull away.

"Don't stop now."

<<<<< End Oliver's POV >>>>>

"Look at me. A splotch of black against all the white." Katie was sitting cross-legged on the bed, her hands shaking. Tiny flecks of scarlet nail polish flew all over the blanket.

"You want to know the truth?"

Oliver, also cross-legged, sipped his tea. "Yeah. I guess I do."

"I love it. The stares in the hallways, the whispers of 'what the hell is up with her?,' the confused looks- I love it. It amuses the crap out of me."

"Why am I not surprised?"

There was a pause.

Then, laughter. Katie's, of course. She had to put down her coffee and hold her knees.

"What's so bloody funny?"

"No fucking clue."

*

"The muffin tops are the best." Katie pulled the top off a blueberry muffin.

"Nah, the stumps are."

"Stumps?" Katie's eyes grew wide. "You actually call them that?" Laughter. "What the hell are you- like, twelve?!"

"What- you want me to lie?" Oliver tried in vain to hide a grin.

Katie snorted. "Sure, honey. Lie up a storm." She picked up her coffee mug again.

Just then, the whole Quidditch team (and Lee. We love Lee.) walked in, bouquets, teddy bears, and chocolates in tow.

"Well if it isn't the two little love birds, having a nice chat and a tea party. How sweet." Alicia grinned at the two of them.

Lee smacked her.

Harry sat a bear down on the bed next to her, and asked in an overly sunny voice, "How're you feeling?"

"Suddenly annoyed."

Fred, Lee, and George howled.

"And she's back!" Harry announced.

Katie seized a teddy-bear and threw it at his head. "Oh, you're supportive!"

Harry used his Seeker reflexes to dodge the flying stuffed animal.

"Harry James Potter, pick up Vladimir Shish-kebob right now!"

Harry retrieved the bear. "Vladimir Shish-kebob? What type of name is that?"

"Do not make fun of Vladdy's name, Miser Potter. It's very rude."

Harry mouthed 'crazy' at Oliver.

Katie threw Vladimir at Harry's head again. "MISTER POTTER! What did I say about rudeness?"

"We're just glad you're back, Katie," Alicia said, grinning.

"Ecstatic," Angelina added, "Positively bouncing off the walls."

"Mmmhmm...bouncing off the friggin' walls. That's exactly the word that I was thinking of." Oliver said.

"Since when did you become so Katie-esque?" Lee asked above the laughter.

"Katie-esque? I have my own esque?" Katie started cracking up. "What the hell is Katie-esque anyways?"

"Y'know, all sarcastic and stuff," Lee said dryly.

"Just because every once in a while I crack a sarcastic comment, it doesn't make me Katie-esque!"

Katie poked Oliver. "You say it like it's a bad thing!"

Oliver rolled his eyes. "I'm to think that it is."

"Katie-esque!" Alicia shrieked.

"Tops or stumps?" Katie held up two pieces of a banana-bran muffin.

"Stumps?" Angelina looked at Katie like she had sprouted an extra head.

"It's what Ollie dearest calls it," she explained.

Oliver crossed his arms defensively. "Well, what else are you supposed to call it? 'That part of the bloody muffin that isn't the top, and might be the stump if people weren't so BLOODY CLOSE-MINDED'?"

George gave a rather fake-sounding cough that sounded unnaturally like "Katie-esque."

"Tops," Angelina said, changing the subject.

"Stumps," Fred and George chorused.

"Tops," Lee announced.

"I just like the whole bloody muffin. Is that a choice?" Harry looked at the ceiling.

"I'm with you, old boy." Alicia put a hand on his shoulder. "Is there something interesting up there?" She looked up at the ceiling as well.

"I was just wondering how high you would have to projectile vomit in order to hit the ceiling."

"High," Katie called over at him. "Very high."

George dug in his pocket and held up what appeared to be an ordinary biscuit. "Care to test?"

Madam Pomfrey dashed in and plucked the biscuit out of his hand. "There will be no projectile vomiting unless you're truly ill," she said, tossing it in the waste bin.

George looked slightly put out, but simply shrugged, and pulled a rabbit out of his hat.

*

"Out!" Madam Pomfrey walked out of he office with a green glass phial in her hand.

"Hmm?" Harry looked up.

"Three hours," Madam Pomfrey said. "You've been here for three hours. Now leave!"

"Oh, Madam Pomfrey, quit being so one dimensional!" Alicia pouted and tied her light brown hair back in a high, lopsided ponytail.

"I don't care about my dimensions, I just want you out!" The older woman shook the bottle vigorously.

Lee muttered something very rude under his breath, and grudgingly headed for the exit.

"What, no hug?" Katie sprang up out of bed and dashed over to him. Suddenly, she went a pasty white colour, and swayed dangerously. "I-I'm going to-" she giggled "-I'm-"

And then she did something that only princesses in fairy tales did- Kathryn Samantha Bell, queen of sarcastic wit and yelling at people, fainted.