A/N: I got kinda lazy today, so it's quite possible that this chapter is gonna be part 1 of 2. I'd hate to do that, but I had to use every spare minute of school today working on re-tests and whatnot; lunch was no exception – I had to do last night's homework for last period and it took me forever.

Paradise-Unknown: Thanks! I'll keep writing if you keep reading!

Lia06: Yeah, a long time ago me and a friend talked about all the different kinds of drunks: The Abusive Drunk, The Depressed Drunk, The Happy Drunk, the Half-Weight, and The Designated Dave. Thinking back on that, it only seemed right to make Oliver and Katie Happy Drunks – at least when they're together.

pokethepenguin01: I really wanted to make it longer, but I just couldn't think of anything else to put it. After writing the chapter and then typing it, I get rather sick of it all.

Mijy: Seriously! Mrs. Rodriguez jokes me all the time. She'll be grading tests and be all, "Alyson, this is quite an improvement from last week"or"Isola, this is fine, but I suggest you study more". But then she gets to me and it's all, "Hannah, what on Earth do you do in my class?! This is absolutely atrocious! Never in my 30 years of teaching have one of my students turned in a '73'!" and then I'll go, "But it's still passing! That's gotta count for something!" and she'll completely ignore me, turn to Frank and be all, "Now Frank, I suggest that you take a re-test. I think I'll rest easier at night knowing you didn't settle with a '90'." Honestly!

Kathy: Yeah, me and my friend, Alyson, are like that. We'll have this huge fight and she'll still lend me her homework.

Okay, in this chapter there's gonna be a Quidditch practice, and since I'm crap at writing stuff like that, I'm gonna leave most of the details out.

Chapter 5: Priorities

I woke up at 11:32 Sunday morning with a pounding headache and a mouth that tasted like cotton. I lay in bed for about 15 minutes, but was quick to get up when I felt something creep up my throat.

After 45 minutes in the loo of constant retching and a nice, hot shower followed by relentless teeth-brushing, I went down to the common room. It was completely deserted, with the exception of Hermione Granger, who appeared to be trying to read six books at once. I made my way over to the window facing the Quidditch pitch and, as expected, saw someone high in the sky. One guess who it was.

"Oliver asked me to tell you that practice is going to be at 12," a young, feminine voice informed me, breaking me out of my reverie. I turned around to find Granger, the source of the voice, staring intently at me.

"Right. Thanks," I replied and started on my trek to the pitch.

I arrived at the locker room around 11:55 to find everyone else changed and waiting to hear Oliver's start-of-term speech. When I walked in, all eyes turned to me; some people looked on curiously, some knowingly.

A couple of seconds after I salvaged my Quidditch gear and broomstick from my locker, Oliver came out of the Caption's Office.

"You can go ahead and get changed while I talk to them. Just be out on the pitch in 5, okay?" he avowed. I nodded mutely in return.

4 HOURS LATER

The entire Gryffindor Quidditch team lay exhausted in the common room, strewn on random couches and armchairs. We had just endured an exceedingly long Quidditch practice (3 and a half hours to be exact) and were in no mind to get up any time soon.

"Since when is it this hot in the United Kingdom?" Alicia asked half-heartedly.

"Since we had to spend 4 hours outside. On broomsticks. With Oliver," I replied feebly.

"It wasn't that hot outside," Harry protested.

"Yeah, well, you'd say that, wouldn't you? You four were allowed to take your shirts off." I shot back.

"Who ever said you three weren't?" Oliver questioned playfully.

"If I wasn't so tired I'd flick you off," I assured him.

"If I wasn't so tired I'd care," he retorted in an easygoing tone.

At that we all lapsed into silence.

"How long 'til dinner?" I suddenly burst out.

"You're the one with the watch," Angelina replied.

"Yeah, but I'm too tired to move," I reasoned logically. Well, what I thought was logically. Angie simply rolled her eyes.

"We've been laying here for about 45 minuted, so I'd say we have a good two and a half hours 'til we can eat." Oliver told us.

Ugh. Sorry, but I'm having a major brain fart and can think of absolutely nothing to type. Tell me in your reviews when I should introduce the romance bit to this story, and maybe I'll have another chapter up by the end of the day.