A/N: Written for the "Character and Colour Challenge" Ravenclaw house homework for the Hogwarts Online forum. My character was Katie Bell; my colour red; my additional character George Weasley; and my prompts a pair of socks, a rose, a puddle, a muggle comic book, and "I'm serious".
Disclaimer: Unfortunately, I'm not JKR, so do not own any of these characters. I just borrow them and put them in ludicrous situations in an effort to make you guys laugh/cry/go "awwwww!"
Why I Hate Valentine's Day, by Katie Bell
I woke up on the morning of the 14th of February two minutes before my alarm went off. I squeezed my eyes shut tight, trying ever so, ever so hard not to remember what day it was.
On minute and fifty-eight seconds later, however, my alarm began to buzz, and I could ignore it no longer. It was Valentine's Day. I lay in bed a little longer, willing myself to move, whilst everyone else in the dormitory leapt around, chattering blithely about the cards and presents they were expecting.
As I finally found the energy and will power to get up and get dressed, I thought about exactly why I hated this holiday so much. I thought it was probably because I never got a present or card, unlike everyone else in my dormitory/house/school...
That's hardly going to change this year, is it Katie? I thought as I reached into my sock drawer and pulled out the last pair. Red hearts splattered them. Damn. I just couldn't get away from it.
As I unfurled the socks and went to put them on, a small, folded-up piece of paper tumbled out and bounced onto the floor. Before I could even register it's appearance, my friend Leanne had swooped down upon it and was reading it aloud.
"Dear Katie," (it read) I know how much you hate Valentine's Day, but I'm going to try and change your mind today."
Stunned silence followed the final sentence, but I could sense an hour-long analysis in the offing if I didn't move fast. I snatched the letter from Leanne's hand and ran out of the dormitory, taking the stairs two at a time.
When I reached the Great Hall I raced to the Gryffindor table as fast as possible, my rumbling stomach reminding me that I was starving. As soon as I sat down, however, a long-stemmed red rose dropped into my lap. There was a note attached to it, as cryptic at the first one
I suppose you're wondering who I am. I won't tell you, but I'll Give you a clue: It's Wreally obvious to everyone but you.
I hope you'll work it out eventually.
Instead of giving me a clue, the weird message confused me even more. I decided, eventually, to concentrate on important things. Like breakfast.
Try as I might though, I couldn't quite put those note as my mind. The confusion I felt was mixed with something unexpected. A tinge of...excitement? Nothing like this had ever happened to me before. I knew who I hoped it was, but I didn't hold out much hope that it would be him. This was way too...subtle. He liked to go out with a bang. Still...I was intrigued.
I managed to make it through to lunch without anything else happening, but it wasn't to last. Whilst I was waiting outside the Charms room, a tiny red-headed second-year girl appeared at my elbow.
"I've been told to give this to you," she squeaked breathlessly, holding out a magazine. I took it gingerly.
"Who told you?" I asked. But she had already run off, her bright hair glinting in the sunlight as she skipped away. I looked down at the magazine she had given me. It was a copy of one of my favourite Muggle magazines, The Amazing Spiderman; and it was the first one, the only one I didn't have. How had they known?
When we entered the classroom, I headed straight for the back row. A combination of a seat in the back corner and a lively lesson with cushions flying around the room should give me enough cover to read the comic under the table.
I settled down to read, Professor Flitwick's view of me obscured by the three tallest boys in the year, who were sitting in front of me. Leanne rolled her eyes when she saw what I was doing, but left me to it.
I was becoming completely engrossed in the story when another piece of paper slipped from between the middle pages and into my lap. I unfolded it gingerly, checked no one was looking, then read.
Knowing you, you probably think this is all a joke. I assure you, though, that I'm serious. If you want to meet me, then there'll be another clue in the courtyard at 7:00pm telling where I'll be waiting.
This was getting creepy now. How did they know? How did they know which pair off socks I would be wearing this morning? How did they now red roses were my favourite flowers? How did they know I hated Valentine's Day and would view this all as a sick joke? How did they know I read Spiderman comics, and how did they know which one I didn't have? I didn't remember telling anyone these things.
I barely managed to eat anything at dinner but fortunately no one noticed. They were too absorbed in their own problems. This made it easy to slip away at five to seven.
When I reached the courtyard, it was completely deserted. I'm not sure what I was expecting, but I couldn't see anything remotely resembling a clue. The only other thing there was a small puddle in the centre of the courtyard, left over from the relentless rain we had had for the past week. I stared down into it, at my reflection, and started to cry. I was so pathetically unlovable that I had been stood up by my secret admirer, someone who had been stringing me along all day. Maybe I had been right; maybe this was all just a sick joke, played on me because they thought I could take it. But I couldn't, not anymore. I had always been the tough one, the girl in a guy's world, and I had learnt to not to show emotion. This was the last straw, though, and I cried unashamedly.
As I cried, the tears dripped down my face and splashed into the puddle at my feet. As I cried more and more, the splish-splash became a sullen hiss, and this made me look once more into the puddle's grimy depths.
My fallen tears were forming a second layer on top of the puddle, reflecting rainbow-like like an oil puddle. Words slowly began to form, words that spelt out the message they had left for me.
I'm in the Owlery waiting for you. See you soon.
I didn't know how they'd done it, but I was impressed. I grabbed my bag and raced up to the Owlery. My hand rested on the wooden door for a moment before I pushed it open. Please let it be him...
George Weasley stood on the other side waiting for me. I smiled beatifically as I ran towards him and buried my head in his chest.
"Did you work it? That it was me, I mean," he asked as he rested his cheek on the top of my head.
"No," I said, pulling away and looking up at him. "But I hoped." He smiled and pulled me close again.
"How did you do it anyway? I never told anyone all that stuff about me."
He chuckled and I felt it reverberate deep in his chest.
"You're easy to read Katie, and I put in more effort than most. That, and some snooping through your stuff, with Leanne's help." I stared at him open-mouthed, but then laughed. I was to happy to stay mad at him.
We stayed still a while longer, wrapped in on each other, before he spoke again.
"Did my plan work? Do you still hate Valentine's Day?"
I thought about it for a bit. Eventually I answered: "You know what? I don't. I don't even know why I hated it in the first place."