I Only Wanted

****

On the outside, Katie Bell was an ordinary girl. She was average height, with long dirty blonde hair, and blue-green eyes. She went to school, played sports, and excelled academically.

She was also a witch. She attended Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry from September 1st to the second Friday in June (whatever the date may be). The sport she played was Quidditch, a wizarding game not unlike Basketball, albeit played on brooms. And her best class happened to be Charms.

Yes, Katie Bell was an ordinary girl.

****

Katie looked at her calendar and sighed. "About two weeks until school starts. It went by so fast," she said quietly to herself.

Being an avid procrastinator, she hadn't started any of her summer essays. And even worse, she had O.W.L.s this year. She would be one of the last to take it, seeing as her birthday was in December. With finals at the end of the school year, Professor McGonagall, her Head of House, had put off her O.W.L.s until the beginning of her fifth year. She had never wanted to hug a teacher before that moment.

Her parents had put her in Primary school at an earlier age than most. So, unlike most, she received her Hogwarts letter at ten and a half as opposed to eleven. For the first half of the year, she was among the youngest in her year. And for a few months, she would be the same age, and then people would surpass her again.

"It sucks," she said aloud, taking out her essays and picking one at random.

The one she picked was a rather nasty one from the Potions Master, Severus Snape. She groaned inwardly, but opened her Potions text and started thumbing through it.

"'Write two pieces of parchment on the uses of Wolfsbane.'," she read off the piece of parchment in her hand, "I can't even think of a paragraph on the uses of Wolfsbane. Why do we have to write about this anyway? Ugh, he's awful."

She threw the question sheet to the side and got out her quill and inkwell upon finding a page on Wolfsbane. As soon as her quill touched the parchment, she heard a crash from downstairs. She closed her eyes in frustration and placed the parchment in her text, holding her page. She walked tentatively to the door and opened it a crack. Echoed shouts met her ear.

"Great," she said walking out into the hall, "Another fight."

She walked down the hall, towards the stairwell. She leaned on the banister and waited. Waited for the argument to present itself. It did, in the form of her mother, Carolyn. She stormed into the foyer, looking positively livid.

"Why do you talk about things that can never be Andrew?" she said, and as if sensing Katie's presence, looked up at her.

A mumble came from the direction of the living room.

"No, Andrew. Its all her fault!" her mother shrieked, as she pointed up at her.

Katie stood glued to the spot as her father, Andrew, came into the foyer, grabbed Carolyn by the arm and hauled her into the parlor. As she heard them continue in hushed voices, Katie forced her feet to move towards the stairs. She had the overwhelming feeling that she had done something wrong. Something she wasn't aware of doing, but it had obviously upset her parents. As she ascended the stairs, making sure to skip the one that creaked, the voices grew clearer and she could make out some of what they were saying.

"Just because it is true, don't say that to her Carolyn. She's a good kid. She doesn't need to know," her father was saying as she stood beside the door to the parlor, hidden from sight.

"I don't care, Andrew! And since when have you? We could be living in Paris, and living the life we always dreamed of. But we made a mistake. And that mistake was her. I will not have another argument over her feelings. She needs to know. We can finally have an honest, family, life," Carolyn said, accentuating the word 'family'.

Katie felt tears stinging her eyes, but she forced them down. How dare them, she thought. How dare they talk about her as if she were an object. Another worthless possession. Anger replaced her tears. And anger forced her through the doors to the parlor and up to her parents.

"So, you never wanted me? I was a mistake! Answer me!" Katie screamed.

Carolyn and Andrew looked at each other, agreed and turned to face Katie.

"Yes," Carolyn said simply.

Katie was infuriated by the tone. "How dare you!"

"I'm just being honest, Katie," her mother said, defending herself, "And how dare you! Listening to your parents private conversation like that."

"Who tells their child that! No one, that's who. I can't, I can't even believe you," she said, as she ran from the room, her father calling after her.

She ran up into her room and locked the door. She couldn't stay here. They didn't want her, well then she would leave. But where to go? She racked her brain for places she could stay.

"I've got enough gold in Gringotts. I can stay at the Leaky Cauldron. I can get my school supplies and be in walking distance of King's Cross Station to catch the train."

With that she began to through things into her trunk. All her books, quills inkwells, and robes. She closed the trunk and grabbed her cloak from her closet, placing her wand in the pocket inside. She tucked her broom under her arm, and with great difficulty picked up her trunk and carried it to the door. She fumbled with the lock before finally getting the door open, and walking downstairs. She made her way to the living room, where their fireplace was. Luckily for her, the fire from earlier was still blazing. She sat her trunk down horizontally, and reached up onto the hearth for some Floo Powder. She threw it into the fire and watched the fire rise and turn an emerald green. She lifted her trunk off the ground slightly and walked into the flames, wedging her broom between herself and the trunk. The warmth surrounded her and she yelled into the flames, "The Leaky Cauldron!", before the room around her disappeared. Even though she had traveled by Floo Powder many times, she still hated it. It made her dizzy and sick. She closed her eyes against the whirl of colors surrounding her as grates of fireplaces rushed by.

An instant later, The Leaky Cauldron appeared before her eyes and she steadied herself so she wouldn't fall. The owner, a man by the name of Tom, rushed over to her.

"My, my, my. Let me help you with that dear," he said kindly, taking her trunk from her and placing it on an empty table.

"Thank you sir," Katie said, stepping out of the hearth and moving to sit down at the table.

"Staying until term starts?" he asked knowingly.

"Yes, my parents sent me," Katie said, attempting to lie well.

She knew Tom could see right through her, but he smiled. "Say no more. I know we have some rooms open. Young Harry Potter was brought here a few days ago."

"Harry's here? Why is he here?" Katie said, following Tom as he floated her trunk up the stairs.

"Didn't ya here? Ran away from home. Blew up his aunt he did. No harm though, they set her right."

Katie shook her head to try and make sense of what she was hearing. Harry blew up his aunt, but she was ok. She must have done something to anger him, Katie thought as she followed Tom down a narrow hallway. He stopped at a room with a brass number thirteen on it. He landed her trunk on the chest at the end of the bed, before turning to Katie.

"If ya need anything at all, just holler. Name's Tom."

"Nice to meet you, Tom. My name's Katie Bell."

Tom bowed his head, before exiting the room, leaving Katie alone. Katie surveyed the room and nodded. It was nice and homey. She could stay here for a while. She looked at the clock on the mantle piece. The time read nine o'clock. Katie sighed and sat on the bed. She unfastened the clasps on her cloak and sat it aside.

"I should get to sleep," she said to herself, "That way I can get up early and get my things for school. Then I can concentrate on my essays," she said lying back, "Yeah, that's a good plan."

But she couldn't sleep. She willed it to come, but the thoughts of what her mother and father had said was replaying in her head. They didn't want her. They had never wanted her. She raised her arms over her head and stretched. She sighed in frustration before sitting up in bed. The sleeves of her shirt had pulled up, revealing her lower arms. She studied them sadly.

She couldn't remember exactly when she had started, but she had been cutting herself for a while now. She was pretty much an outcast at Hogwarts. She had a small circle of close friends. She was way off the popular radar and she always wondered why it bothered her so much. Well, she knew one reason why.

Oliver Wood. The gorgeous Captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch Team, the team she played for. He was two years older than her, which meant he was graduating this year. He had a fan club. Yeah, a fan club. Mainly first through third years who adored him for his looks and popularity. Oh was he popular. But he was a Quidditch Captain, so of course he was. It came with the title. He was a Prefect, and held one of the top spots in his class.

She had gone through the phase most girls go through. Like Oliver Wood, realize he doesn't know you exist, and move on. And in all honesty, she had, until she made the House Team. Because unlike all those other girls, he did know she existed. And when she played well, there was pride in those big, brown eyes, and nothing could take that image away from her. She adored him for one simple reason; he was nice to her. He treated her with respect. As a teammate. He would never look at her as more than that. And it hurt her feelings. So, she had begun to cut herself. It took her mind off of that fact for a while. But her mind always held the mantra of, "Just a teammate, nothing more.".

Then there was her home life. Her parents never seemed happy.

She snorted. "Now I know why."

They fought constantly. She hated the holidays. She never went home for Christmas or Easter holidays anymore. There wasn't any point. She'd just hear the two of them. Arguing. Over her, over her father's job, over money, over the house. She sighed. It was always something, she thought.

Katie glanced at the clock once more and saw that it now read midnight. She sighed and laid back down, hoping for sleep.