Feather, Oh How I Hate Thee...
Scratch… scratch… scratch…
Looking up, irritated, Oliver Wood furrowed his dark brow: intent on finding the source of the distraction that was causing him to lose much needed concentration on his Potions homework.
Scratch… scratch… scratch…
The noise made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, itching him brutally.
Rubbing his neck, he continued to survey the unusually quiet common room, desperately seeking out the irritating noise.
Scratch… scratch… scratch…
'Argh!'
Jumping up from his seat, he stamped his foot on the ground in a semi-silent tantrum. 'Who the hell is making that noise!'
Pausing in their various activities, the small population of the common room looked up at him curiously.
'Someone is making a really irritating scratching noise with their quill.' He explained.
Scratch… scratch… scratch…
Blind with fury now, he looked for the tell-tale sign of red hair, which would signify Fred and George Weasley – the only two people who could annoy him this much.
'Fred and George – come out. Now!'
But there was no movement, sound or sign from them of any kind.
Frowning, Oliver was puzzled – it wasn't like Fred and George to continue to hide at this point: normally they were so proud of their pranks that they had to claim ownership by this stage.
But who else could it be?
No one else knew how much he hated the sound of a blunt quill against parchment… At least no one except…
'Katie, if that's you, I will throttle you.'
Scratch… scratch… scratch…
'THAT'S IT!'
Launching himself at the quietly working but silently laughing brunette girl, he tackled her to the ground so that she was laying full length under him.
'You are such a prat.' He hissed at her as she laughed hysterically.
'You know you love me.' She laughed, tears of mirth running from her bright blue eyes and down her cheeks.
'Mmm… Well, I'm not so – ahahahaha.'
Collapsing into helpless giggles, Oliver began to roll around on the floor, clutching his sides and jerking as if having an epileptic fit. Grinning evilly and tackling him as he rolled around, Katie continue to attack him with her quill, tickling him in all his weak spots.
Pinning him to the ground, she grabbed his right arm and began to write on it with the quill.
Scratch… scratch… scratch…
Wincing in irritation at the noise as she wrote on his arm, Oliver struggled a little.
Scratch… scratch… scratch…
'Eurgh! Make it stoooopppp!' he whined, thrashing around like an eel.
Determinedly holding onto his arm, Katie poked out her tongue in concentration as she finished off the last letter of her sentence. Letting his arm go, she sat back on the floor with a smile.
Frowning at her and inching away fearfully, Oliver looked down at his arm and promptly gasped in happy surprise.
Go to Hogsmeade with me?
Suddenly, the scratching noise didn't seem so bad.
Taking her by the arm, he snatched the quill off her and wrote his reply.
Scratch… scratch… scratch…
I would love to.
And at that moment, all the scratching noises in the world could have made him any less ecstatically happy…
Scratch… scratch… scratch…
Or maybe not…
'KATIE!'