A/N: Hey, peoples! Yay! I'm so glad that I have holidays now. I mean, even if it means that the next two terms are going to be extra long... And the commonwealth games. I mean, who is ACTUALLY going to them? (Or going to be watching them?) But yeah, just 'cos we're part of the commonwealth, we get extra games. Yay.

Anyway. That's beside the point. (A point which I've forgotton...) I only had seven reviews last chapter. Seven. Count them: seven. But to those people who DID review... thank you! Banoffee, shadow929, MotherCrumpet, snuffles101, PrincessPotter16, sarcastic spastic and scared-of-open-spaces reviewed:D

November 5th

I'm currently trudging across the Quidditch pitch, dripping from head to toe and miserable.

Why? Because our 'Quidditch-is-my-life-and-I-will-never-get-another-chance' captain, a certain Oliver Wood, has decided that we should start practising even MORE frequently, so we can kick the Hufflepuff's arses and win the stupid shiny cup.

Well guess what, Oliver? We DO have another chance. So suck!

Anyway. This morning he woke us all up, bright and early. And the sun wasn't even shining. Which reminds me- how can he even REACH the girls' dorms, anyway? I mean, Lee, George and Fred can, but that's different. They're smart. Not that Oliver's stupid. I just think there's too much Quidditch going on inside his head to make room for anything else.

Have I mentioned that it's pouring outside? Yeah, that would explain why I'm a tad hesitant to come outside in the FREAKING RAIN.

Angelina agrees with Oliver. She's all, "we need the practice, guys! Hurry up!"

Alicia, on the other hand, is all; "I need this time to study!"

Whilst I am all, "I need this time to get some frickin' sleep!"

We all have serious issues. And 'Lic really needs to get her priorities straight.

"Bell! Faster!" Oliver yells, but I can barely hear him on account of how loud the wind is. Poor Harry looks like he's going to get blown over any minute. On the other hand, he's way taller than I am, even if he's skinnier.

"I'm going!" I scream back, slipping in the mud. I can just picture Lee watching all this out of the window, laughing his freaking head off. Yeah, laugh while you can, Lee! One day I'll pass you in Diagon Alley and you'll be cleaning all the owl poo off the road! Ha.

"Go get changed! We'll meet outside in five minutes!" Oliver commands, pointing at the change rooms.

Yeah, thanks for the directions, Oliver. I've only been playing Quidditch for four years, but hey, the location of the change rooms must have SLIPPED MY MIND.

"Why is he doing this to us?" I moan, pulling on my Quidditch robes.

Angelina gives me a stern look. "Do you want to win the Quidditch cup or not?" she asks, lacing up her shoes.

"Not," I answer after thinking about it. "Just to see Oliver's face."

Angelina stares mutely at me.

"Okay," I amend, "it wouldn't be that bad if we won. I'm just saying, unless Wood loosens up on the practise, we'll lose. We'll all start hating Quidditch, and then we'll turn so bad that everyone will throw tomatoes at us, and we'll fall off our brooms and quit, and he'll be the only one left on the pitch…"

"You are so weird," Ange says, raising her eyebrows at me.

At the same time, Oliver shouts, "I heard that!"

I ignore him and go outside. "What do you want us to do?" I ask dully.

Fred and George snicker. "Yeah, Ollie," Fred says in a high pitched voice, "we could be painting our nails right now."

"No!" George shrieks dramatically. "I want to blow dry my hair!"

How does he even KNOW what a blow drier is? And can you even USE them in Hogwarts? Wow. There's a question to ponder.

"Knock it off," Oliver says to the twins, then turns to the rest of us. "Bell, Johnson, Spinnet," he bosses, "you practise the triple-tuck-and-roll over there. Weasley, Weasley-"

"What is the triple-tuck-and-roll?" I interrupt.

Oliver stares at me. Why do people keep doing that this morning? "It's a triple-tuck-and-roll," he says. "How hard can it be?"

The concept clicks in my brain. Triple- that's three, right? Tuck- I guess he just means tuck our head under our armpit or something. And Roll- I suppose we have to roll over on our brooms. That might be a bit hard, though. "Oh," I say. "Gotcha."

Oliver rolls his eyes and continues. "Weasley, Weasley," he says, pointing to Fred and George. Why can't he just CALL them Fred and George, instead of 'Weasley and Weasley'? I mean, he could be pointing to the wrong Weasley! "You two try and aim for that statue, or something." He points to the statue that is directly above McGonagall's office. I'm not sure that is such a good idea, but when I go to interrupt me, he's all, "I'm the captain, Bell!"

Well then. See if I help him get out of that one.

"Aye, aye, captain!" Fred yells, saluting him solemnly.

"Potter, you just… do your thing," Oliver says seriously to Harry. "Mount up!"

"Wait!" George says. "What are you going to be doing?"

Everybody else on the team sighs loudly. "I'll be blocking points," Wood snaps at George.

"Ah." George nods. "Thought so."

I kick off on my broom, mentally cursing Oliver every name under the sun. I mean, why couldn't we have a NORMAL captain? Maybe someone threw a bludger at him when he was a baby.

"Katie!" Alicia shouts. "Here!" She passes me the Quaffle, but I can't see it. I pull up, looking around when I suddenly feel something whizzing by my ear.

"Augh!" I yell, batting it away.

"What?" That was Alicia. She sounds very far away.

Then I feel something cold and wet poke my ear. "AUGH!" I scream.

"Katie?" the voice sounds surprised.

"H- Harry?" I ask, not even bothering to try and keep the shock out of my voice. "What the fuck are you DOING?"

I can see his face now. His eyes look huge behind his glasses, and he looks at me apologetically. "Sorry," he says, not sounding all that sorry. He looks a bit like he's going to laugh. "I thought I saw the Snitch next to you, except then I couldn't see because my glasses fogged up and so I had to feel around for it."

"Into my ear?" I ask sceptically.

"Er… sorry?" he offers. "I didn't mean to."

"HARRY! LOOK OUT!" A voice screams, and Harry ducks just in time, because a bludger passes right through where his head was, so fast that I can feel the wind from it against my ear. Or maybe that's just the normal wind.

"You alright?" I ask. I can't even see him.

"Fine," Harry mumbles from somewhere below me.

"This is stupid!" Alicia grumbles from behind me. "I can't even bloody see."

No kidding, Alicia. "Yeah," I say instead. "I hate Wood." Wow. It can be like a new campaign- I HATE WOOD all over some banners and signs. We could have badges, stickers... the possibilities are endless.

"Me too," Fred agrees, coming up somewhere next to Harry. "Sorry about that, mate. I was really aiming for Katie."

…Okay then… "Fred!" I yell. "Haven't you done enough damage to me lately?"

"Like what?" George asks.

I roll my eyes, glad that Oliver probably can't see us from his spot near the goal posts.

"WHAT ARE YOU ALL GOSSIPING ABOUT?" Oliver shouts at us. "YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO BE PRACTICING!"

No kidding, Oliver. I mean, we're just out here at five in the morning on a rainy day because we all had a sudden urge to get wet. "Ollie!" I yell back. "This is too hard!"

"WHAT?"

God, could he BE any louder? "I said," I say calmly, "this is too hard."

"Why?" Wood comes up behind me. So now we're all having a little chat in the middle of the Quidditch pitch. Yippee. I just gesture at Alicia, signalling for her to take over.

"It's raining," she says.

"It's cloudy," George yells.

"It's too early!"

"It's too wet!"

"It's too stupid!" That last one earned me a couple of strange looks. "Well. It is," I insist. "The whole thing is stupid."

"Are you quitting?" Oliver actually looks shocked.

I roll my eyes at him. "No," I say slowly. "I'm just saying that you're a moron for bringing us out here at four-thirty in the morning, in the pouring rain and howling wind, just to try and catch some balls."

"Are you calling me a moron?"

How slow can you get? "Yeeeeees," I say slowly.

"You're fired!"

Um. No. Way. "What?" I blurt out.

"You're. Fired." Oliver says in the same slow way, as if he is talking to a two-year-old, instead of a fifteen-and-a-half year old. (I'm very proud of the half bit, in case you haven't noticed.)

"You can't just kick me off the team!" I cry. "This is inhumane!"

"Where'd you learn a big word like that?" Fred wants to know.

"Help out here, guys!" I yell at my friends plus Harry. But seeing as, you know, how Harry keeps on saving the world, therefore saving me, I guess he can be counted as a friend, too.

Harry looks apologetic.

Fred looks like he wants to laugh.

So does George.

Alicia looks like she's wondering what time it is.

Angelina raises her eyebrows at me.

So I'm on my own. "I didn't do anything!"

"You called me a moron," Oliver says patiently. "Therefore, you are insulting your captain, which displays bad sportsmanship, which is against the regulations of Quidditch."

"Um. Okay," I say slowly.

"Just say you're sorry and you want to go back on the team," Alicia says flatly.

"Never!" I yell, trying to sound all heroic. All it gets me is six people's pitying stares. You know, like I'm crazy or something. I'm not crazy, but I think my brother Michael dropped me on my head as a baby. Then everyone covered it up, so no one ever knew…

Anyway. "You say sorry," I point accusingly at Wood.

"I didn't do anything," he says confusedly.

"Yes, you did."

"Just get off the pitch," Fred teases.

"Boo!" George calls out. "Off with ye head!"

Everyone stares at him. "Okay," he amends, "just get off the field."

"I'll come back!" I call out as I slowly descend, whilst the others watch me. "Mark my words! I'll be back!"

I'm already missing the fact that I'm not on the Quidditch team, and it's only just after lunch. I mean, when you're a Quidditch team member, everyone comes up and goes, "Hi!" and they all pretend to like you. It's like you're a superstar, or something. Well, a sports superhero.

Now no one knows my name, and I've only been off it for eight hours. I mean, how can they all suddenly forget my name, just like that?

Maybe Oliver bribed them. But no, he wouldn't have gone so far to bribe the Slytherins, would he?

Before, this Slytherin dude, I think his name was Crabby, or something, was all, "hey, look! It's a Gryffindork! Hahaha!" In this really stupid voice. I sincerely hope that wasn't his normal tone. If it was, I should have told him to go and visit his local speech therapist.

Normally they at least KNOW our names, so they'd be like, "hey, look! It's that Gryffindork Bell! Hahaha!"

Anyway. I was trying to completely ignore 'Lic, Ange, Fred and George on account of how they didn't go and tell Oliver to go jump off a cliff. Although knowing him, he'd take a broom with him.

"Katie," George hisses from behind me. "We're really sorry. Honest," he adds as I turn around and fix him with my most dubious look.

As if. They probably want something from me. Like… well, I'm not sure what. But they're being nice. And that's scary.

"Yeah, Katie," Angelina chimes in.

I raise an eyebrow. At least we're only in History of Magic, so it's not like he'll tell us off for talking or anything.

"I don't see why you can't just say you're sorry and ask to be back on the team," Alicia grumbles. "It would save less trouble for all of us."

"Alicia!" Ange yells. "Now you've gone and ruined our plan."

Oh yeah, guys. Subtle. Real subtle. "You had a plan?" I ask, happy at the thought that they had to devise a master plan JUST to try and get me back on the team.

"Oh yeah," George assures me. "It was really good, too. Right guys?"

"Yeah," everyone agrees.

"Well it won't work," I say huffily, "because I LIKE not being on the team. So there."

Lee looks at me. "You were just complaining before how no one knows your name any more and how you already missed it," he says.

Stupid unsupportive boyfriend.

"You were?" Fred asks, blinking.

"That's pathetic," George laughs.

I groan. "I was joking," I say, glaring at Lee. I kick him under the table, and it connects with his shin. Good. I hope that hurt, Mr Traitor. Because I am NOT talking to you again. EVER.

"She wasn't," Lee counters, smirking at me.

"Yes I was!" I cry loudly.

"I don't think you were," Angelina says, grinning at me. "You've haven't been off the job for half a day and you already miss us!" she crows.

"Um. No, I don't," I say, raising an eyebrow at her. "Now stop interrupting me. Some of us are actually trying to do some work here, you know." I turn back around and try to concentrate on what Binns is saying, but after like two seconds it all just rolls into one looooong thing and I can't understand any of it. There goes that plan.

Then Lee does a Horrible Thing. He quietly grabs Alicia's quill and starts tickling me under the arms with it.

I laugh so hard that I fall off my chair and the whole class, including Professor Binns, is looking at me. But Lee doesn't stop. "Say that you'll go back on the team," he demands.

"Why?" I ask, in between fits of not-so-dignified laughter.

"Because otherwise I'll be stuck with you moaning about how you should be out there," Lee replies. "And we need to win the cup."

I'm flattered that he thinks I'll help Gryffindor win the cup. "No…" I mumble.

"Say it."

Why am I even going out with him? "No…"

Then Angelina grabs a quill, and pretty soon all of them (except Alicia, because she can't find her quill) are tickling me. "Okay!" I gasp, and they stop. "Okay."

"Okay what?"

"Okay I'll go and beg for Oliver's forgiveness and apologise for calling him a moron and thinking that he is a raving lunatic who will grow up to be the dictator of a large country."

They all just stare at me, until Alicia suddenly shouts, "Lee! Why do you have my quill?"

"Oh," Lee says sheepishly, looking down at the feather in his hand. "I didn't want to get Katie germs on mine."

Gasp... Katie germs. How horrifying for him. Anyway... please review? Please?