She is centre-stage.

I was thirteen when I joined the Gryffindor Quidditch team. She was a year older than me.

I didn't speak to her all that much. I wasn't quiet, though. I suppose I was just a typical teenage girl. I giggled about boys and fantasized particularly about Oliver Wood. I cared about my make up and my hair and thought playing Quidditch would be a good way to increase my popularity and achievements.

I think my actual love of Quidditch increased as I realised that I was actually good at it. Every time I got the Quaffle in, I felt a thrill of pride and jubilation flood over me. I got addicted to that feeling.

I think she always loved Quidditch even more than I did. She was always the best Chaser on our team.

I remember seeing her silhouette in front of me at the entrance to the pitch - tall, fit and proud, facing the jeering and cheering crowd. Her broom would be by her side, held with a familiarity and confidence that I admired more every match.

And my imagination is rattling in its cage.

I didn't really notice when everything else disappeared.

In the changing rooms, Alicia and I would chat and laugh as we showered and dressed. We were comfortable seeing each other's bodies, in a comradely, sportsman's way. Somehow, it was completely different for me to see Angelina get changed. She would be naked in front of me like Alicia, but I would have to look away from her. Every time I saw her dark, supple thighs and flat stomach, I held my breath and busied myself with my make-up. I think I was afraid of what I might start to imagine if I looked at her too long. When she showered and water spilled over her naked body, my mind struggled to free itself from invisible, self-inflicted bonds. I wanted to keep looking at her, but I was scared. Some Gryffindor I was.

But I've been waiting for you to come and talk to me, Talk to me.

I have been playing too many of those boy-girl games.

She says honey you are safe here, this is a girl-girl thing.

When she became Captain I was in my sixth year. The day of our first practice, I had been doing Transfiguration homework in the library and got up to find a book in a section at the back. Then I found them - Andrew Corner, my boyfriend of three months, with some blonde Ravenclaw girl, all over each other behind a bookshelf.

I instinctively threw a Jelly-Legs Jinx at them both and they tripped over one another's legs and collapsed in a heap on the floor. He called me a stupid girl who needed to control her temper and said that he was glad I'd found them because it gave me a reason to break up with him. I was so furious I stormed out without a word. I couldn't think of anything to say to that.

I was early for practice and just sat in the changing room for twenty minutes, until Angelina came in. It was still an hour until the scheduled practice time. She was keen to make sure everything went right for her year of being Quidditch Captain.

My eyes were sore and red from crying and my mascara was staining my cheeks. She smiled at me with sympathy in her wide, black eyes. I was embarrassed, but I had to talk.

'I'm sick of it,' I said to the floor. 'So many failed relationships and I'm only sixteen. I hate boys. I need to learn my lesson. They just make life so miserable.'

'Don't worry, Katie,' Angelina said. She sat down beside me and put her arm around my shoulders. I could feel her muscles against the back of my neck and my stomach squirmed. I fought back more tears. 'You'll get over it, whatever happened. There are no boys here now. So no need to be miserable.'

I told him I loved him so he thought I'd roll over and play dead.

He was God's gift to hypocrisy with weak knees and a big fat head.

She says honey don't tell me that story, you are boring me.

Just tell me that you like me, tell me what you're gonna do Now that you're free.

'Just last night, I was in his bed,' I said. 'He wouldn't give up. He said he loved me and I said I loved him. I kind of believed him. I didn't do anything in the end, though. I didn't want to. Now I'm glad I didn't. I felt bad about it this morning. I HATE him! He's a shallow prat with a one-track mind.'

Angelina smiled at me and rolled her eyes.

'He said he loved you?' she said with a laugh. 'Heard that one before. You're better off now. Aren't you glad to be shot of him?'

'I'm happy I'm not alone here,' I said.

'Good,' she replied.

I put my head on her shoulder. She kissed my forehead and the spot where her lips had touched was the only part of my body that mattered at that moment. That spot of skin seemed to be glowing and sending warmth and life through my blood.

'Don't you ever have boy trouble, Angelina?' I asked.

'No, not really,' she said. 'I have fun with Fred and I've messed around with Lee, but I prefer someone who understands me a bit better. I prefer to understand the other person.'

I kissed her first. The idea of it, before or after, seems impossible and astonishing. Where did I get the courage from? It seemed so obvious that, if anything ever happened, it would be her that would start it. But at that moment, there seemed to be no other option in my mind other than to kiss her. I didn't want to lose that moment. I couldn't risk her not doing it. I just let loose my body and mind and did it.

When she showered and changed after Quidditch matches, from then on, I watched her. I never took my eyes off her. I came to know that body so well, but I never grew tired of gazing at it, letting my imagination soar as though above the crowds during the match, on a broomstick in gale force wind, unleashed and free.

Lyrics from 'If It Isn't Her' by Ani Difranco.