:Sigh: reviews, got to love them.

Now you all better love me big because I just got home from a 10 hour volleyball tourney (that's ok because we came in first! (suckers)) and the first thing I did after I got home, took a shower, and gorged myself with all the food I could reach, I started this.

So onward!

And gasp! Someone else does crew! I had no idea! What school do you row for evelas? When I tell someone I do crew they give me this weird look and ask me what the hell I'm taking about.

Ok, I'll stop rambling now and just start.

March 20, Friday, 7:30

I am going to cry. By this time tomorrow I will still be running around in a dress and high heels. God. Have. Mercy. Let's just say I am not the most graceful person in the world. So mixing me with high heels is a definite no.

At like five everyone whose going to this thing is taking a portkey there from the great hall. Normally I would expect that Granger girl to pop out of no where and give me a lecture on why that can't be possible because of all this crap she read in Hogwarts: A History and then I would proudly say that it is possible because Dumbledore arranged it especially and she would huff out the door and I would smile all proud of myself because I was smarter than her on this small fact.

…What a run on sentence.

March 22, Sunday, 10 am (talking 'bout last night though)

Holy. Fudge. My poor feet. But other than that, this shin-dig wasn't as bad as I thought it would be.But of course it took us like three hours to get ready.

"Did I mention I really don't want to go to this thing?" I asked my two best friends as we got ready.

"About a million times," Angelina said.

Me and Alicia were currently doing her hair so it wasn't in those braids but wavy and smooth. Kinda like mine and Alicia's, kinda.

"Come on Katie," Alicia sighed from next to me, "It'll be fun."

"Two inch heels are not fun Alicia."

They just laughed.

"Guys, this is pointless," I said as Angelina and Alicia did my hair and makeup. Two hours later it was my turn. Damn it. "I'm not going to look any better. Ouch!"

Angelina had poked me in the eye with the mascara. How you poke a person's eye with mascara, I have no idea. Eye liner I could see, but I refused to let them put any on me. But mascara?

"Sorry," she said apologetically as I rubbed my eye. "But you really shouldn't squirm."

"-JESUS 'LIC!" I screamed as Alicia pulled really hard on a lock of my sandy blonde hair. "I'M NOT MADE OF STEEL!"

"Hush up," she said, too motherly like for me, "I'm almost done."

"Same here," Angelina said, now onto blush.

I was going to regret this. I was going to look hideous. They probably did my make so I would look like a clown. When I looked in the mirror it was-

"-Amazing!" I screamed, before jumping up and hugging my two best friends.

I don't know how they did it, but my hair and make up looked amazing. I mean perfectly amazing. It was crazy. The make up made the green in my eyes stick out even more and my hair fell around my in loose curls.

"You two are Gods! Pure Gods."

"I know," they sighed, sounding a lot like me actually. Was that a shot?

At 4:52, precisely, we were in our dresses and were making our way down to the Great Hall with Oliver and the twins, who looked excellent in a suit. Oliver, I mean. I mean wow, how could our captain-who-loves-to-run-us-into-the-ground-just-for-fun look so damn good? Oh yeah, his Oliver, my freaking-Scottish-kilt-wearing-son-of-a-bitch-captain, that's how. But I'm praising the lord he went with suit pants over a kilt. That would be too much like that weird dream I had a while back.

"Did I tell you, you look great?" Oliver asked, offering me his elbow.

I link my arm threw his and looked down at my emerald green dress and half thought 'what the hell is he talking about?', but smiled none the less, "Oliver…"

"What?" he asked, "I'm not aloud to tell you how beautiful you look?"

"Ok," I laughed, "Now you're insulting my intelligence…no matter how little of it I have."

He chuckled as we entered the great hall, "What ever you say, Kat, what ever you say."

He has finally realized how stubborn I am and has given up the fight. Ha-ha.

"I hate portkeys," I said…from the ground.

Yeah, I can barely stand up after a portkey in sneakers, did they really think I could manage it in heels? I hope not, then they're stupider than I though.

"Me too," Alicia said from next to me.

At least I wasn't the only one who fell down. Actually, a lot of people had. Everyone one who was in the Great Hall seconds ago was now in the entrance to the Ministry of Magic. And half of them were on the floor. Haha, oh wait, I was one of them, damn.

"Need a hand up?" Fred laughed. Him, his twin and Oliver gave us a hand up.

How they hell had they managed to stay up? It has got to be the heels. It's got to be. So we straightened out our dresses and continued following the mass of people down a hall or two until we came to this gigantic room. It was a dome. As big as a pitch with tables, a dance, floor, music, and no doubt, somewhere in the mass of people, my family.

I was thinking how long I could avoid them when-

"Katie! There you are, I was wondering when you would finally get here!" my mom. I prepared myself for the worst, my mom has a way of doing that. Though, she did look pretty good in a navy blue dress, but that's beside the point, "A green dress? Green was always your favorite color and it does look rather good," she turned to Oliver who was standing inches behind me. Run Oliver, run while you still can. "And Oliver, how nice to see you dear!" too late.

"It's nice to see you too, Mrs. Bell," he said with a smile, "How have things been?"

"Oh, fine," she smiled, "Just fine. But I haven't been able to place this mystery boy Katie's been with," I slapped my forehead, "Do you have any idea who it is, Hun?"

Hun? I have lived with this woman for 16 years, and I'm still not a Hun. My older brother has just become a Hun. How the hell did Oliver pull it off in record time? He doesn't even live with her!

"Well-" he started.

"Mom!" I said, "It's Oliver!"

"I know this is Oliver," she said, looking at me rather shocked. "How could I forget who he is?"

"No mom," I said, "Oliver is the mystery guy! I've been trying to tell you for nearly a month!"

She finally made the connection. "I always thought I taught you something worth knowing," she beamed.

It was going to be a long night.

"Yes mom," I agreed fakedly in a rather fake voice that she surprisingly didn't catch onto.

"Have you seen you're father?" she asked suddenly.

"Ma'," I said, getting rather annoyed, "I just got here."

"Well where's Lance?" she asked before walking off to find him after I rolled my eyes and sighed.

Damn, I forgot he was going to be here. Now how to avoid him.

" 'Sis!"

Too late. Bear hug. Older brother bear hug. Back breaking older brother bear hug. Ouch is all I can say.

"You look pretty spiffy," Lance laughed as he took my hand from behind me and twirled me a bunch of times till I was almost too dizzy to stand up and hand to hold my spinning head. Thanks, Lance, thanks. "I guess you're not the jock I brought you up to be, hu?"

"Nice to see you too," I laughed, once the room stopped spinning.

Lance, older brother extraordinaire. Same hair as me but as a boy cut of course. Kinda long, kinda short, just over the top of his ears but no more. Same eyes too, you can tell were related except his 6 foot and I'm 5'7", 5'9" with heels. Mwhahahaha.

"So whose this mystery boy Ma's been going on about?" he asked. I heard Oliver chuckle slightly from behind me. "Did you bring him?"

I sighed, how many times was I going to have to do this?

"Oliver mystery boy, Lance older brother," I introduced them with hand movements and all, "Lance Older brother, Oliver mystery boy. Got it Lance? because we have to go find the-"

I had taken Oliver by the hand and started to lead him away when Lance caught hold of my other hand. Damn him. Forgot he used to be a seeker. Damn it.

"But maybe I want to talk to him," Lance said.

Oh god no.

"Is you're tie on too tight?" I asked, I think I threw my hands in the air. Why doesn't anybody ever slap me? "You know Oliver, he's over like everyday every summer for the past four years. You practiced with him. Why do you want to talk now?"

Lance shrugged his shoulders, "Maybe dad wants to talk to him too."

HELL NO!

Ever since I was a little pre-teen, every boy that has stepped within a twenty feet boundary of me, my dad has asked questions. Some are ok, and some are not ok. Like where we'll be that night, that's ok. What fantasies have you had of my daughter, not ok. And chances are it could be even more not ok. Not good.

We had to escape now.

"Peaches!"

Too late. Bear hug. Dad bear hug. Even more back breaking dad bear hug. Ouch again.

"Hi dad," I said smiling. My dad has always called me peaches. and it always makes me smile.

"How's things at school?" he asked, "Keeping your grades up?"

"As best as I know how," I said truthfully. Even if that consisted of Oliver tutoring me every other day.

"Good," he said, giving me a heavy pat on the back. I fell forward and almost onto my face, but Oliver caught me at the last second. You would've thought he had run off into some corner by now. Good 'ol Oliver. "Good reflexes," my dad said to Oliver, "How have you been, Wood?"

"Good as always," he replied, smiling.

Why does everyone forget I'm in heels? Sandal heels no less. Don't they remember I can barely function in converse low tops? What's wrong with these people?

"So do you know anything about Katie's mystery boy, Wood?" my dad laughed as Oliver helped me back to my feet. Damn heels. That's all I have to say.

"Actually, Dad," I said, now somehow balanced on those terrible things they call heels, "It's Oliver."

"I know it's Oliver," he said. What the hell? "You're last name still is Wood right?"

"Of course," Oliver smiled.

God bless his soul.

"Dad, Oliver is the mystery boy," I explained slowly.

Dad's face suddenly went from laughing to ridiculously serious. My dad is a full on 43 year old Italian, dark hair and eyes, the works. He's from southern Italy and my mom's side of the family is from northern Italy. Everyone knows northern Italians have the lighter hair and eyes. Just thought I'd clear that up. So this change in emotion was rather…odd. I guess.

"Can I have a word with you?" my dad asked.

Oh, my God. Say no, Oliver, just say no.

Sure people were milling about and talking around us, but this conversation will be the one talked about for centuries. It'll be the kind that haunts every teenage girls' dreams.

"Sure," how can Oliver be so cheerful at a time like this?

"So how did all this happen?" my Dad asked.

Ok question.

Oliver told him about the Ravenclaw match, my dad currently had no objections.

"She had told me, she didn't want a boyfriend. What happened?"

Ok question.

"I guess she changed her mind," Oliver said, shrugging his shoulders, "I certainly didn't do it for her."

No objections.

"Done anything I should know about?"

Er, getting rather close to the not ok questions category.

"No, Sir," he used sir. My dad is going to love him. "Nothing out of the ordinary."

No objections.

"Have you ever pictured my daughter naked?"

NOT OK!

"DAD!"

Oliver looked rather stunned by the question.

Lance looked like he was going to burst out laughing.

Dad looked as composed as ever. But I could see faint smile lines suddenly appearing around his eyes.

"No," Oliver said steadily and calmly, "I hold Kat in the highest respect."

"Good!" my dad smiled. "Why don't you go find the Weasleys, hmm peaches?"

"Good?" I repeated, shocked and probably as red as the fat-lady-who-just-barged-past-me dress (which was red) "How was that question good?"

"Excuse us," Oliver said, placing his hand on my lower back and steering me away from the two of them.

"I think some one just got asked lots of fatherly questions," Fred said in a sing song voice as me and Oliver sat down with Angelina, Alicia and the twins at a round table for six.

"Did he?" Alicia asked me. She had been there three years ago when some other guy got asked the questions.

"Yes!" I groaned, slamming my head on the table. No Quidditch game going on there.

They all burst into laughing. Except Oliver, I think he was still partially stunned. Poor guy. And there was more to come.

Over the next hour, I would introduce the-once-mystery-guy-but-not-any-more-because-I-think-everyone-even-the-tiniest-bit-related-to-me-knows-him, aka Oliver.

"I always knew you'd find some one nice, Katie!"

Thanks Aunt Karen.

"Eh, and such a good looker, too. You've got good taste, kid."

Thank you grandma.

"I knew they'd end up together ever since they were in diapers."

We're not getting married nana, and we didn't know each other when we were in diapers.

"If things don't work out between you two, here's my number-"

"GOOD BYE LAURA!"

Cousin. three years older than me, new boy friend every other day.

"Katie!"

I turned around in my chair, afraid to find out what other long lost relative wanted to meet Oliver next. This was like one big bad family reunion, but with other families and almost everyone I knew from school which made it even worse.

But it wasn't as bad as I thought. Actually, I was rather happy to see me favorite cousin, Joe. He was one year older than me, 6', dark curly hair which was a little long and desperately needed a hair cut, shining dark brown eyes, and always good for a laugh.

"Joe!" I laughed as I stood up and he gave me a hug. "What are you doing here?"

"Mom," he said simply.

Italian mothers, I just don't get it.

"Ok," Oliver said as I sat back down in my seat next to him after Joe left. "Now it's my turn."

With that, he took my hand and dragged me all the way across the room to a large table with many people talking with rough Scottish accents. Even more so than Oliver's.

Meet the Woods.

"Katie, dear!"

"Hello Mrs. Wood," I managed through a tight hug from Oliver's mom.

"I haven't seen you since last summer!" she said through a large accent. "How have ya' been?"

"Just fine," I smiled, tucking a lock of hair behind me ear, "How have you been?"

"Ah', same as always," she sighed smiling. "Same as always."

Of course I knew Oliver's mom, dad, and older brother. But I didn't know his uncles, aunts, grandparents, cousins, or second and third cousins. He's got a family to rival the size of mine.

"Always knew you'd find a nice lass," one of Oliver's uncle's said, giving him a large slap on the back.

But Oliver didn't fall forward like I did. Heels. Remember the heels.

And I can truthfully say meeting his family was much more enjoyable than the other way around, even though he knew half of them from several summer get togethers.

"And what a pretty one too, hu laddie?"

"Ya' did me proud, boy."

"I remember this one, two summers ago wasn' it?"

"And such a' sweet heart too."

I love his family. So many ridiculously nice comments. All I ever get is 'Katherine Ann, why don't you ever put your hair down?', 'those jeans again? Why not a skirt?'. fun hu? But Lance normally backs me up, until he moved out.

So by 7, I was officially introduced out and we made our way over to the Weasley's table for god knows why. I guess because Angelina, Alicia, and the twins were there. But we certainly can't forget about Percy.

"Will you just shut up Percival?"

"I still don't see why you're wearing those suits. You look so immature."

"Because we look bloody dashing in them. That's why."

I agree with Percy. Wow, four words I never thought I'd say together. But since Fred and George would kill me if I sided with him, I'm going to have to scratch that last remark and replace it with 'the twins do look dashing in those brightly colored suits'…even though they look more hysterical than dashing or whatever they want to look like.

But not hysterical like 'haha, you two are idiots' but more like 'wearing a bright orange and sky blue suit is a typical twin thing, haha'. And it's true. Mrs. Weasley almost blew a gasket.

"ARE YOU TRYING TO EMBARRASS ME?" she shouted to the roof. But the music and the chatter was pretty loud so I would guess only half of the room had heard her. "WHY ON GOD'S GREEN EARTH WOULD YOU WEAR THOSE? YOU HAVE PERFECTLY GOOD BLACK ONES!"

The twins just looked innocently up at her in their bright suits as I cracked up hysterically from behind her, holding onto Oliver's arm for support. I was about to roll around on the ground.

"But mum," Fred said, taking off his orange top hat that went with his suit, "don't you want everyone to remember us years from now?"

"I think the is the perfect way to do it," George agreed, spinning his sky blue top hat on the cane he brought.

"THE PERFECT WAY TO DO IT WOULD TO BEHAVE LIKE ACTUAL GENTLEMAN!" Mrs. Weasley pointed out correctly.

But we were talking about the twins here. They were always the center of attention wither they wanted to or not because they always insured a good laugh. Those suits clashed terribly with their hair too, which made me laugh even harder. Got to love them.

"Kat," Oliver said through his own chuckling, "I think you're going to have to breathe soon."

"I-HAHAHAHA-can't!" I laughed hysterically, barely able to spit out my words. "it's too damn -HAHAHAHAHAHA-funny!"

God, I must've looked like I was drunk. Brilliant.

"Here," Alicia said through her own giggles, passing my a napkin, "You're starting to tear up."

I dabbed my eyes and finally calmed down as Mrs. Weasley stalked away.

"I can't believe her," Fred said, putting his large top hat back on.

"I was sure these suits would be a hit," George said, still spinning his on the cane.

Just then Fudge, the minister of magic, was up on some platform and started giving us some drabble-de-do that he thought we would actually listen too.

"…Quality Quidditch supplies," I saw Oliver instantly focused on what Fudge was saying at this point, "has donated a Firebolt to the occasion, which we shall raffle off at the end. All the money raised tonight from our several raffles will go to St. Mungo's which is currently reaching out to third world countries and Berttie Botts would like to remind you all of the splendid new flavors and…"

The rest was some drabble, but I saw the gleam in Oliver's eyes.

"You're not seriously thinking you could win," I said, looking at him some what skeptically, "do you?"

"A Firebolt…" he said softly. "I could win one…"

Oh boy.

"Oliver!" I snapped my fingers in front of his face to bring him out of his little trance, "You're not going to empty your safe out on some raffle you'll never win."

That one wasn't a question. More or less a command.

"But I could win one!" he said excitedly.

"Oliver," I groaned, "You know you'll never win."

"But I could!"

"Oliver, it'd be a million to one chance at best," I said sympathetically, "And knowing my math skills, it could be even worse."

He chuckled and seemed to forget about it for a while as we made our way back to our table with the twins and Angelina, and Alicia, where food suddenly appeared. But his holy-crap-I-have-got-to-win look came back once Angelina brought it up.

"But just think!" she said, "We could have two Firebolts on our team!"

"I'd love to see the look on Flint's face," hey, two Firebolts would ensure us the cup. I had to agree on that.

"It might pop a few of those pimples he has," Fred laughed through a mouthful of potatoes.

We all laughed. Maybe it would pop a few, it'd be doing the world a favor.

Oliver sighed, no doubt thinking of brooms, quaffles and snitches.

"Oliver," I groaned, "You're practically in the same spot all the time anyway." I pointed out. "And you're broom is one up on mine!"

I had a Swift Wing. Great broom. But Oliver's Nimbus was better. The world knew that one. And all he really did was circle around the rings or hover around the middle one. Other than that, he either barged around the pitch, giving us 'advice'. more like not-so-friendly-yelling.

After that came the worst part. Dancing. I was required to dance, by none other than mom. Damn that woman. Angelina, Fred, Alicia and George were probably the first ones on the dance floor. It was quite a sight, and I was enjoying it.

"Want to dance?" Oliver asked, holding out his hand.

"Um, alright," I managed, taking his hand and walking out onto the dance floor.

Ok, let me tell you a crucial piece of information. I can fly. I can probably beat you at Quidditch any day of the week, day or night. But I cannot dance. Not for beans. Not for my life. Especially, not in heels. But it could've been worse.

Turns out, Oliver can dance. He's no ball room dancer but good enough to make me look somewhat good. And that is a miracle all it's own. I would like to take this moment to praise who ever came up with the rule that guys lead. thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

"I didn't know you could dance," I said as he twirled me about. I got twirled, go figure!

"And since when can you?" he smiled.

"I can't," I fessed up.

Oliver chuckled, "You are a terrible liar."

"I know," I said, why must everyone remind me? "But is the lighting weird? Because I'm not lying."

This was around the end of the song and he suddenly dipped me.

"Well you fooled me," he said. I swear, if he ever, ever drops me, I will personally kill him. And he almost did. Almost.

"Sorry mate!" Fred laughed, after bumping into Oliver and dancing away with Angelina who was also laughing.

By then Oliver had brought me back to standing up.

"Sorry about that one," he smiled.

I was still griping onto his collar like grim death, but I smiled.

Then another song came on, a little slower than the last, which was fun and somewhat 'bouncy.' weird word, but it fits so well. But emphasis on slow.

I started to walk away. Bad things happened during slow dances. Bad things. Like me tripping on my own two feet, me stepping on my partners feet. And other bad things that could happen with a 100 more chances to happen because I'm in heels.

"Where are you going?" Oliver asked, grabbing my wrist.

"Er.." I pointed to the our table over my shoulder, "Slow dance. I don't exactly mix with those."

He pulled me in close to him and wrapped his arms around my waist as the song went on.

"Really?" he asked.

"Was that a hint of sarcasm?" I asked, wrapping my arms around his neck.

"From me?" more sarcasm, "I don't think so."

"Isn't sarcasm my thing?"

"What sarcasm?"

"Oliver…"

"Yes?"

I just laughed a little and rested my head on his shoulder. I could get used to this slow dance thing. After all, it's not like I was leading, I just had to move with Oliver. Then all of a sudden he stopped. But the music didn't.

I took my head off Oliver's shoulder, "What…?" I started, then I saw who Oliver's head was turned towards.

Oh god no. oh please no no no no no. Please no!

"Mind if I cut in?"

YES I DO! GO AWAY PERCY!

I saw Oliver smile at his room mate. He wouldn't. He wouldn't dare…

"Not at all."

He did.

I was either going to cry or kick one of them so-hard-they-would-never-have-kids as Oliver passed me over to Percy.

Torture. Pure torture. I watched Oliver in horror over Percy's shoulder as he turned back towards me and gave two thumbs up. WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH THE WORLD?

So far Percy hadn't said anything. And I figured I might be able to get through this, just maybe. I'll just let him lead, purposely step on his feet here and there, not say a word, and I'll be fine. How ever wrong I was. He lead me straight over to where our parents were dancing. They had decided to swap spouses so my mom was with Mr. Weasley and my dad was with Mrs. Weasley. What a sight.

"Katie!" my ma' said happily as she caught sight of me dancing with Percy, "Where's Oliver? I thought you came with him?"

Her words were just a little slurred and her face was just a little bit red and I almost cried out in horror as I realized someone let her have a few drinks.

"Ma'?" I asked, "What did you drink?"

"Oh nothing!" she said happily, "Right, Tarquin?"

"Ma'," I said, "That's not dad, that's Mr. Weasley."

She squinted at Mr. Weasley who simply said, "It's me, Marie."

"So it is!" she said rather loudly.

God have mercy. This is where I actually sort of lead, dragging us away from my crazed mom.

"So er…"oh my god, he was starting a conversation, "I hear the Quidditch team is really coming along.

I wanted to say 'duh it's coming along. Where the best god damn team because we have freaking dawn practices!' but I didn't. I don't know why, but heels somehow turn me into someone more lady like. And I can't say I really like it too much.

"Yes," I said airily, "It really is." desperate to get the conversation off me I asked something I now dread, "So how's Penelope?"

His face dropped and I knew I should've kept my big mouth shut.

"We broke up," he said softly.

Very, very, very deep down inside I felt bad. But up at the surface my brain was screaming 'well I wonder why?' very sarcastically.

"Why?" my brain seriously needs an off button.

He sighed, Percy is bad enough happy, Percy sad is a completely worse story. "She said I was overbearing or something of the sort."

Alls I had to do was sympathize with him until the song was over. Alls I had to do, "Hmm, strange thing to say," couldn't even manage sympathy. There was sarcasm there. Laid on thick enough that a cave man would realize it. Damn my sarcasm bone.

"I completely agree," damn, now he's going to keep droning on-what the hell is that? "she is so…"

IS OLIVER DANCING WITH NATASHA?

"…I really don't understand girls sometimes."

"Really?" I asked, not pay attention at all, but glaring at Natasha over Percy's shoulder who was leaning on Oliver's shoulder. Oliver looked very confused by the whole situation.

GET AWAY! HE'S MINE!

I'm so possessive of him sometimes.

"…Penelope isn't like you though."

"That so?"

WHAT ARE YOU DOING NOW? GET YOUR HANDS OFF HIM!

"…You're a terribly good listener."

"Really?"

WHY ARE YOUR HANDS WRAPPED AROUND HIS NECK! I'M GOING TO KILL YOU!

"…Penelope never paid any attention to what I said."

"I can't imagine why."

I SAID GET AWAY!

"…would you like to go get dinner sometime?"

"hmm?"

AWAY DAMN IT!

"I mean I know you're with Oliver, but he wouldn't mind for one night, right?"

"I guess not…"

ONCE THIS SONG IS OVER, YOU ARE DEAD!

"That's great!"

"Sure is…"

WHEN IS THIS SONG GOING TO END!

"How about Friday at eight?"

"Why not?"

Of course I had no idea I just agreed to a date with Percy, I was way to busy glaring daggers at Natasha who looked very content with herself dancing with a dumbfounded Oliver.

At that second, the song ended and I marched over to Oliver and Natasha aka she devil.

"Kat!" Oliver said, looking so happy to see me.

I was still glaring at Natasha, attempting to use any possible physic power I might have to fling her across the room. Turns out I don't have any.

"Yes Katie?" she asked, trying-to-act-all-innocent-in-that-innocent-look-of-hers-that-no-one-ever-buys.

"Go away," boy, my voice was so icy it would make Alicia proud.

"What?" I don't think she has ever heard that term.

"Go away," I repeated, "Or I swear to God, I will hex you back and forth across the room people will be talking about it for centuries."

I moved my hand across the side of my dress to the narrow pocket in the skirt part where one would keep their wand. I was still glaring at Natasha who soon backed up and then nearly sprinted across the dance floor.

Little did she know, I had accidentally left my wand back at the table in my purse. I could someday act if I wanted to. I smiled crookedly as she went and hid behind her current boyfriend, Roger Davies.

"You are so cold," Oliver said, chuckling slightly, slipping his arms around me from behind, resting his chin on my right shoulder.

I sighed, "What are you going to do?"

He kissed my cheek, "I haven't figured out yet."

"Wasn't dancing with Percy torture enough?" Another slow song had came on and we started to sway back and forth slightly, "How many slow songs are there?"

Oliver chuckled.

The rest of the night was pretty uneventful. I wound up dancing with Joe, Percy, Lance, one of Oliver's cousins, both the twins at the same time (how the hell did I pull that one off?), Percy, even Davies (Oliver wasn't to happy with that but I keep purposely steeping on his feet and mouthing off so two minutes in he couldn't stand it any more and left), Percy again, my dad, my little cousin who's five, Percy again. And Oliver ¾ of the time but does anybody else see a pattern here? Why the hell was Percy dancing with me so much? I need an explanation here.

By one the whole thing was over, my mom had a considerable amount to drink, and Fred and George each had enough Firewhiskey to ask Professor McGonagall to dance. When did she get there? And Oliver look deeply depressed when his single ticket didn't get picked in the drawing for the Firebolt.

"I cannot feel my feet," I said as we climbed back up the stairs to the common room. I was currently walking barefoot, shoes in my hand. I could not be in those things for another second.

Oliver laughed, his coat over his shoulder, tie hanging untied around his neck, and his hair thankfully messy as ever, with his free arm being pulled down by me. I could barely stand up and I think I have blisters the size of pancakes on my feet.

"Do you have any idea what it feels like to be in high heels for seven hours?" I asked, gripping his arm, "Dancing?"

He chuckled, "No, I can't say I do," he paused, "And I can't say I know what it's like to have a date with Percy this Friday at eight."

I slapped my forehead, "I can't believe I accidentally agreed to that. In was so mad at Natasha, I wasn't listening to a word he said. The stuff I get myself into…"

Oliver chuckled, "May I please be there when it all goes down?"

"Like I'm going to go through with it," I groaned, "I'll tell him…I'll tell him…well, I don't know what I'll tell him, but I'll tell him something soon enough. UGH! My feet!"

"Here," Oliver chuckled slightly before suddenly picking me up newly wed style. "Better?"

I thought for a second, my arms around his neck, playing with the tail of his hair, "Yup, much," I smiled, leaning my head against him.

Did I mention this was at like 1 in the morning, and after seven hours in heels, dancing? So it was safe to say I was completely exhausted and so I had a perfectly good reason to nod off.

I think Fred and George might've spiked my butter beers a bit, I woke up this morning with a huge headache.

They are so in for it…ugh…

Sorry it took me like three weeks to get this up. Completely unlike me, I know. But I have volleyball every day after school to like sick, and by the time I take a shower and finish dinner and my homework, it's like 9pm. And normally after all that, I don't wanna even think about looking at more words, just the football game on TV. So once again, I'm sooooooooooooo sorry. But you should all blame the education system