Yeah, I HAVE NEVER FELT MORE LOVED! I HAD NO IDEA I COULD KNOCK PEOPLE'S SOCKS RIGHT INTO THE WASHING MACHINE OR THAT I WAS A ROLE MODEL! I'm hugging myself right now because no one's at home to hug me for me. Ok, did that make sense? Who cares? I'm loved! Whoot!

Oh, and the sock thing really made me laugh because it reminded me of my volleyball team. Ok you see, we wear those knee high socks so when we sprawl (aka dive five flipping feet for the ball) we don't kill our selves, so we're always saying 'you rock my knee high socks!' when someone does good, but that's besides the point.

Ok, I'm going to stop rambling now, but thanks for the bowing, I really appreciate it!…because, you know I'M A ROLE MODEL!

March 15, Sunday, noon

"They have got realize where they fall asleep."

"There are first years running around."

I opened my eyes to my friends, instantly jumping five feet in the air and falling off the couch. Wait a second. I don't have a couch. Did I mention I hit my head on the coffee table? Does anyone notice there is never any coffee on a coffee table? I don't have a coffee table either.

"What the hell is going on?" I asked shocked.

You would wonder too if you were sprawled on the floor, in your pajamas, in the common room, with almost everyone starring at you. I did remember to put my pajama bottoms on right?…ok, I was good. I remembered. Just checking.

"You want to tell us?" Angelina asked as Alicia giggled behind her.

"Err…I asked you for a reason," I said. "I wouldn't ask if I knew."

Fred and George were on the verge of cracking up hysterically. Their faces turning as red as their hair.

"Are they drunk?" I asked Angelina.

"Not as drunk as you," she laughed, "I'm sure."

"What the hell are you talking about?" I asked shocked, "The twins were the ones who wanted Fire Whiskeys!"

I followed there gaze and nearly hit my head on the coffee table again.

Oliver was asleep. On the couch. The same couch I just got petrified off of. In a tee shirt. And the boxers we got him as a joke last Christmas. The ones with the snitches, quaffles and everything. God damn it. They will never let me live it down. NE-V-ER!

And as I looked at this sight, last night came flooding back. And I really mean flooding. Tidal wave flooding. Why the hell didn't I remember? Why? And why the hell was he wearing THOSE boxers?

So. Last night. Here's what happened.

Remember I couldn't fall asleep? And how I said I might go down to the common room? Well, I did. And Oliver was there.

"Couldn't sleep either?" he asked as I sat down next to him on the couch.

Remember, this was at like three in the morning.

I shook my head and nearly laughed at the boxers.

Remember, Saturday is wash day so those adorable house elves had all our decent clothes.

"I can't believe you kept those," I laughed.

Remember, I had crawled through a foot of god knows what. On my birthday. In the middle of the night. Directed by Fred Weasley no less. I had rights to a good laugh.

Oliver blushed a little. I'm terrible, I know.

"I'm sorry," I said as I just managed to die down my laugh, "But I was sure you would've thrown those out the day we got them for you."

"It has crossed my mind," he smiled, putting his arm around me.

God bless his soul. No other guy could take me. I swear.

So we talked for a bit, and we eventually fell asleep. That's all. So I had fallen asleep on the couch with Oliver's stomach pressed against my back, and his arms just happen to find their way around me. So what?

I'll tell you what. I'm going to get interrogated by the interrogating energizer cops. That's what. God damn our stupid stunts. God damn 'em.

That was the flood of what would soon become the longest day of my life.

Poor Oliver though. His wake up was just as bad as mine…without the really bad bed hair. Well, not as bad as mine.

"What's going on?" he asked, his eyes still closed as he rubbed the sand out of his eyes. He finally managed to pry them open.

You should've seen the look on his face. If it had happened any other way, I would've. But considering the circumstances, not only would it have been terribly mean, but my interrogation would've been even longer.

He just looked from me, still sitting on the floor shocked, to Angelina, to a giggling Alicia, to the hysterically laughing twins, to his boxers, and back to me. Now his face was as red as the twins' hair.

"Morning Oliver!" I said with fake cheerfulness. "…did you sleep good? Uh hu, hu, hu…"

His face finally turned the proper shade of…of…flesh…I guess. Right?

"Like a dream," he smiled cockily.

Was the cockiness called for? I mean, he was sitting in the common room in his boxers. The kiddy boxers. Ok, so it was funny. And I snorted because I was trying not to laugh. God damn my ability to laugh at anything and everything. And I was still sitting on the floor!

"Now if you don't mind me," he said, standing up and stretching. He's so cocky sometimes. "I think I better go find my jeans."

And he sauntered off towards the boys' dorm and up the stairs. I think he's proud of those boxers.

"I think I should go find mine too," I said, looking at my pajamas. And unlike Oliver, I flew up the stairs to my dorm. 6 pm

"Would some one like to explain why there is no god damn heating in this place?" I said, my teeth chattering.

I was stuck wearing a pair of jeans and a really old, really thin tee shirt. I hate wash day. I hate it, I hate it, I HATE IT! All my clothes are gone. All of them! Did I mention I was freezing?

What were we doing? Oh yeah, we were with Fred and George who were planning a prank on some Slytherin fourth year that apparently talked bad about them last week.. I didn't mind, but we were in one of those secret rooms with stone cold walls and floors. So it was even colder.

"No idea," Fred said, "I'm not too cold though."

"Well of course you're not," I said edgily, hugging myself "You're wearing a nice warm sweater."

"Well if you didn't spill eggs on your sweaters, you would have one too."

"You're the one who threw them at me!"

"Did not."
"You did so!"

"I don't recall."

"FREDRICK WEASLEY!"

"Yes?"

"…I hate you."

So maybe I didn't. but I did hate having no decent and warm clothing. They all had a sweater of sweat shirt. All of mine were in the wash. Next time Fred throws eggs at me, I'm chucking the copper pitcher of juice at him…in the head.

"Here," Oliver said, handing me the brown sweater he was wearing seconds before.

He is so sweet to me. And I mean sweet beyond belief. But if I took it, he would've been the one freezing, he had a tee shirt on underneath. Thought you'd like to know that.

I shook my head.

"Just take it Kat," he groaned. He really should've seen this coming though.

"No point in two of us being cold," I said.

"I'll be fine," he said, practically shoving his sweater in my face. "Just take it."

I shook my head again, "I'm ok, really!"

"Kat," he groaned.

I shook my head again.

"JUST TAKE THE DAMN SWEATER KATIE!"

You know it's bad when everyone is screaming at you. Well, Oliver wasn't. so everyone minus the really-incredibly-ridiculously-so-sweet-and-nice-one-who-happens-to-be-Scottish-and-did-I-mention-really-sweet-one-?.

"Alright!" I gave up, taking Oliver's sweater and throwing it one.

My god, it was so warm. It was decently big on me, but it was so warm. I know why Oliver wears it all the time. Not because he looks ridiculously good in it, but because it's so flipping warm.

"Oliver," I sighed smiling, "You are a God."

"I know," he smiled.

Cocky bastard, very sweet one though. Take five giant steps back because he's mine. All MINE!

March 17, Tuesday, Herbology

Ugh! I hate classes. There will always be some random pop quiz on some random goblin from some random time period in some random rebellion for some random reason. Always randomly! And Professor Binns isn't actually doing us any favors. He might say it'll help us on our OWLS, but it really doesn't. it can't! I mean, unless they want to fry our brains out, he's not helping me one bit.

By the by, the energizer cops did interrogate me.

"So what exactly happened?" Alicia asked, shining a light in my face.

God have Mercy.

"I couldn't fall asleep so I went down stairs," I said for the umpteenth time.

"And…?" Angelina asked.

"And what?" I asked.

"And what happened?" she said again.

"And I went downstairs because I couldn't fall asleep," umpteenth and one, "I just said that, remember?"

"Who was down there?" Alicia asked, ignoring my question.

"Santa Claus," I said sarcastically. I couldn't see there face because of the light in my eye so I continued, "Yup, he was there alright. And he gave me and Oliver-"

"So Oliver was down there?"

"Yes, Alicia," I groaned, this had been going on for an hour now. "Oliver was down there. Did you miss the fact that he had fallen asleep on the couch?"

"Why was he wearing boxers?" Angelina asked.

"And why was he wearing those prank boxers?" that was Alicia.

"Do they turn you on?"

"What were you two doing?"

"Is there something you're not telling us?"

"Why-Hey! Where are you going?"

But did they seriously think I would sit around and let them play a billion questions with me? I don't know what they're thinking sometimes. And they're the ones who should be getting interrogated.

What does that mean?

George!

No really, what do you mean by that?

Do I really need to spell it out for you?

…yes

You're just as bad as you're carbon copy.

Actually, I'm the older one.

I know, George, you tell me all the time.

But what do you mean?

You pull stuff on almost everyone on the castle. And you two are the ones who are always getting in trouble for doing stupid stuff.

I still don't know what you mean.

…actually, I don't think I know either.

Hmm…What a fantastic thought to ponder.

When have you ever thought?

Hmm…another good thought to ponder.

Hmm…

Hmm…

George.

Yes?

Get out of my note book

You mean your diary?

No, I mean my stupid note book

No

GEORGE!

Hmm….I'm going to ponder…hmmm…

PONDER SOME WHERE ELSE!

Do you still have Oliver's jacket?

Damn! I forgot to give that back!

Good. Can I borrow it?

No!

Why not?

I'm going to let you put glue in Oliver's jacket. I can't believe I forgot to give that thing back!

Whatever, what about his sweater?

DAMN IT!

You are so forgetful Kates.

GET OUT!

9 pm

"I can't believe I forgot to give this back," I said apologetically as I handed Oliver his jacket back as we headed towards the pitch.

"Don't worry about it," he laughed, "I think you're going to need it again though."

God damn it, I forgot to bring a jacket again.

"I really don't know what wrong with me," I sighed, putting on his jacket once again, "And I still have your sweater!"

Oliver waved it off, "I know you'll get it to me sooner or later."

"Probably later, you know," I pointed out.

"Then so be it," he said, slipping an arm around my waist.

I thought this was immensely sweet. Then practice started.

We had to run around the pitch four times with our brooms in our hand for god knows why why Oliver flew next to us on his broom…yelling, 100 push ups and 100 sit ups. Oh, but there's more. When we did our push ups, the chasers had to balance a quaffle on our back and the twins had to balance a deactivated bludger. We did everything in our padding. EVERYTHING! And Oliver just paced in front of us. Saying encouraging words like 'God Damn it! Push it!', 'don't you dare start slacking off!', 'if you give me any more lip I swear I'll make you do a 100 more push ups!'. What an encouraging captain we have.

"I'm…going to… kill you…Wood," I panted around my 70th push up.

"Kill me after your push ups, Bell," he said in his god-damn-it-I-said-don't-give-me-lip voice, "Which I'm tacking on 20 more for you."

Yeah, right. I can barely do 20 and I had no idea how I had gotten this far. Another 50? Nope, not going to happen. At least without a fight. While he was yelling at Fred who was next to me. I made a wild grab for his ankle, you know, to trip him. But at that second he moved down the line and I fell flat on my face.

"Don't make me give you another 30, Bell," he threatened, taking a second to stop yelling at George to yell at me.

Damn him!

I did do those 100 and 20 push ups though. I think that showed him. Sure I was dead and I could no longer feel my arms, but I showed him. HA! But I still hadn't gotten him back. So half way through the sit ups, I tried to kick his shin. And I did. But I forgot we were all still in all our padding which consisted of shin guards.

"That's another 30 sit ups Bell."

DAMN HIM!

So 4 laps around the pitch, 120 push ups and 130 sit ups and one head filled with Oliver yelling at us, I was dead.

"You know I can barely lift this book up," I said.

I was walking back to the common room with Oliver, and I had my potions text book opened in one hand and a stubby quill in the other, writing notes in the margin.

"Don't give me lip next time," he laughed.

"Oliver," I said, trying to stay calm, "My arms about to fall of, my legs are about to fall out from underneath me, and I don't think I'll be able to eat for another three days my stomach hurts so much. And your screaming rants are swimming in my head. I HAVE REASON TO GIVE YOU LIP!"

Oliver chuckled, "I don't think you've ever gotten this sore, have you?"

"NO!" ok, by now there was no stopping me. I wasn't able to give Oliver any physical pain during practice so it only made sense that I yelled at him now, "AND DON'T YOU DARE SAY 'WELL THAT'S BECASUSE YOU NEVER GIVE ME 100 AND 10 PERCENT' BECAUSE I GIVE YOU 120 PERCENT EVERY GOD DAMN PRACTICE! WEITHER IT'S AT ONE IN THE MORNING OR TWO IN THE AFTERNOON, SO DON'T YOU DARE SAY THAT!"

I was breathing like a madman, quick shallow breaths. I swear, if you saw me you would've thought I was an axe murderer. But he took it all. He didn't interrupt me once. For a freaking-kilt-wearing-Scottish-son-of-a-bitch-captain, he can be a very good listener.

"Fair enough," he said cheerfully.

Damn him…

"Now what did you need help with?"

Double damn him. Always making me smile and being so sweet. I can only stay made at him on the pitch. Triple damn him.

"This God damn potion," I said, pointing my stubby quill to one particularly complex one.

"Oh, that one?" yes Oliver, that one. "That's an easy one."

Well, I thought it was complex. I mean, it takes two weeks to make!

"Oh Olllllllliiiiiiiiiiver!"

I stopped in my tracks. We both did. That was one voice I never, ever, EVER, wanted to hear again. Never the less it was in a sing song voice from none other than a Nat. the Nat to be more precise. The Natasha what's-her-face.

So I can't remember her ugly last name, so sue me!

Oliver slowly turned his head to where the voice came. And of course, Natasha came walking towards us, swinging her hips, a smile across her face and an emerald envelope in her hand.

If there was one person to be damned, it was her.

"Hello Oliver," she said his name in such a way it wanted to make me puke. Which is really weird because I like his name. But when she says it, it's just wrong.

"Er, hello Natasha," poor guy had no clue what to do with the situation.

Oh, but I did. I was ready to pounce on her and beat her to a pulp. But Oliver didn't call her 'Nat'. So take that Prissy!

Oliver must've seen the look on my face, probably the look Satan gave to God when he got kicked out of heaven. Or at least something very, very, VERY close to it.

"Er, did you need something?" he asked.

"Could I talk to you for a second?" she asked, twirling a piece of her wavy black hair around her finger.

NO! HELL NO! GO AWAY! YOU HAD YOUR CHANCE, GOD DAMN IT! HE'S MINE!

will some one please clue me in to when I got so possessive about Oliver? Please?

Oliver looked at me while I was starring daggers, knives, swords, and anything else pointy at Natasha. "Only for a second ok?"

"I promise," she said, putting a hand over her heart.

God somebody hex me. Better yet, hex her. PLEASE!

But next thing I knew, she's dragging him halfway down the corridor…by his hand! Wither her hand! SOMEBODY HEX HER PLEASE! I should've. But I didn't. I was still standing there like an idiot in the midst of writing something in my textbook with my bag over my shoulder. And yes, I was still glaring daggers and several other pointy objects. And I continued to glare with my-objects-that-should-be-flying-through-the-air-to-Natasha's-pig-head-and-stuck-up-nose-and-kill-her-because-they're-really-pointy-and-nobody-likes-her look. I continued to give her this certain look until she bounded around the corner and Oliver walked back towards me.

"Well," he said in conclusion, "That was…unexpected."

"What?" I was more or less desperate to know. And yes, I was still halfway done writing a note in the margin. "What was unexpected?"

"Err," he scratched the back of his head. God what happened? "She asked me to the fundraiser."

I instantly dropped my note book and quill, and let my bag slide off my shoulder and slam to the floor. Did I mention that I rolled up my sleeves as I went for my wand as I marched down the hall after Natasha. Boy she was going to get it.

"Kat!"

If Oliver hadn't ran down the hall after me and grabbed both my arms.

"OLIVER!" I screamed. If anyone was on that floor, they would've thought I was being kidnapped. "LET ME GO!"

"Why?" how he was being so calm, I will never know.

"SO I CAN KILL HER!"

Run Natasha, run! Because if she didn't (and if Oliver hadn't stopped me) she'd be dead by now.

"Why do you want to kill her?" how the hell was he being so calm? I mean, he was holding me back and by then I was kicking and fighting as hard as I could to go kill her.

"BECAUSE SHE-"

"Asked me to the fundraiser?"

"OF COURSE YOU TWIT!"

"Don't you even want to know what I said?"

We were still standing in the middle of the corridor, I was still kicking, Oliver was somehow still calm and collective, and my books and bag were some thirty yards away, flung across the floor.

"NOT REALLY!"

I am so immensely stubborn sometimes.

"You are so stubborn sometimes, Kat," thank you for that update Oliver. I know already! And you never know how truly strong someone is until they hold you back when you're on the warpath. "Let me tell you what I said at least. Then I'll let go, and you're free to kill her."

I stopped struggling, "Fair enough," so he stopped holding me and I turned on my heel, two inches from his nose, "What happened? Exactly."

Boy, I am sure a piece of work sometimes.

"She asked if I would go to the fundraiser with her," he said.

"Yeah, I know that," I mean, that's what sent me on the warpath. "And?"

"And I told her I was going with you."

"Really?" I asked, shocked. I dunno why I was shocked. I mean me and Oliver had never officially went on a date. But I did have all the other privileges…if you count getting yelled at on the pitch everyday too.

"Of course," he nearly laughed. "Aren't we?"
"I…I guess," I figured. "…right?"

"Who else would I go with?" now he was laughing.

"Well, we never actually clarified it!" I pointed out, getting flustered.

"Well then," he said, "Will you go with me?"

I laughed. He had gotten down on one knee like he was asking me to marry him and he had one of my hand in both of his.

"Please?" he asked with his I-would-call-this-look-puppy-eyes-but-I-really-can't-because-I'm-a-captain-and-no-way-would-anyone-catch-me-with-puppy-eyes-but-this-look-is-good-enough-to-do-the-trick look.

"Alright," I laughed, "alright."

"It's settled then," he said cheerfully, jumping up to his feet and he started walking back towards the common room. But I didn't follow. "What?" he asked, looking back at me.

"Can I kill her now?" I asked.

He laughed, but I didn't.

"Come on Kat," he laughed, "Save it for another day."

I looked down the hall where Natasha had gone. I'd probably never find her now, "Promise?"

He smiled crookedly, "Promise."

I looked down the corridor one more time, "Fair enough."

And after I fought with Oliver, stating several facts why I can carry all my books and bag by myself, we finally made it back to the common room.

I know, I know, I haven't updated in ages and I deserve to be shot for it. Don't worry though. I'll have the ball in the next chapter!

I had volleyball, I got pulled up to varsity so practice runs 'till 6:30 and school started (GAH!) and I don't actually have any extra free time until like 8:30. And I'm guilty because normally I spend it crashing on the couch until I can't keep my eyes open any more, which is at like 9:15. A charming life I lead hu?

I know, excuses suck but I think I have a decent one going here.

AND GO READ OLIVER WOOD'S LOVE BY SLYTHERINFAN15! yeah, friend of mine and i promised i would spread the word and you guys haven't left any reviews for her. so go!

love ya lots!