Ahhhhhhhhh, sweet, sweet reviews giving me wonderful reviews, I love it! And I'm sorry one person thought that last chapter wasn't as great as my others, but I must say I agreed. I wasn't sure wither to put that thing in at the end with Percy but the chap needed saving so I did. I'll try to make this one great. But god only knows what will spew from my typing fingers.

March 29, Saturday, 7 am

Now, normally there would be no way in hell I would be up this early on a Saturday morning. But several things woke me up. First, at around 1 in the morning Finny caught part of Angelina's curtains on fire and I had to put them out. And second, Oliver.

"What the…?" it must've been like 3:30 and my eyes were still all crusted over. And I must say, waking up to Oliver nose to nose with you, poking you in the ribs is not the nicest way to wake up.

"Practice," he whispered.

"WHAT?" I screamed. Yes screamed. That little word kind of woke me up.

"Practice," he repeated calmly.

"Are you kidding me? It's 3 in the morning!"

He shook his head.

"I hate you," I scoffed.

"No you don't." and with that he walked out the door.

"So?" I said to myself.

So I did what anyone else would. I went back to sleep.

"BELL!"

"Go away Oliver! I want to sleep!"

"It's Fred."

I opened my eyes and looked at the clock, 4. Half an hour of extra sleep. Pfft, like that's a lot.

"Oh…" I grumbled. "What do you want?"

"We have practice," he said.

"No we don't." I corrected and went back to sleep.

Next thing I knew I was being carried over to the pitch.

Turns out Fred ran downstairs and got Oliver who slung me over his shoulder and was now marching down to the pitch in we-need-to-have-practice-and-I-can't-believe-you're-making-it-start-late captain mode. Not a good time for chit chat. But a very good time for shouting.

"OLIVER! OLIVER ARE YOU INSANE! IT'S-" I quickly checked my watch "4:05 IN THE MORNING! I SHOULD BE ASLEEP!"

"You can catch your beauty rest another time," he said in his I'm-your-captain-damn-it-so-listen-and-do-as-I-say-damn-it voice.

"YOU ARE SUCH A FREAKING-KILT-WEARING-SON-OF-A-BITCH----THING!"

"Do you mean captain?"

"NO! I MEAN THING!"

Of course I meant captain. Who says 'thing' anyway. But like I was going to let him know that.
We had finally reached the locker room where he finally put me down on one of the benches. I just crossed my arms and legs and glared at him.

"Well?" he said.

"Well what?" so maybe I should try harder not to get him in a bad mood…I'll try that when he doesn't decide to give us a dawn practice."Get in your robes," he said in his captain-commando voice.

"Why don't you?" I rebutted.

He cocked one eyebrow at me and it just struck me that he was already in his scarlet robes. Damn it.

"Well?" he said.

"I refuse."

"Fine," he said. "You can just play in your pajamas."

Which I might say is exactly what I did. That's right. I played in my red flannel pajamas and gold long sleeved shirt…barefoot. Take that Oliver Wood. Take that.

"Aren't you cold Katie?" Alicia asked about an hour later.

I scowled at her. It was like 5 in the morning in March and I could not unfreeze my fingers from around my broom.

"No."

Too bad I'm the only one on the team who understands sarcasm.

Another hour later (6 am) we were sitting in the locker room listening to Oliver ramble on.

"..All in all I think it was a good practice despite some difficulties," I sent him a glare as he looked in my direction with a look on his face.

By then I was soaked from head to foot. Of course the rest of the world agreed with Oliver to make my morning miserable, even the weather. It had rained during practice.

"…Make sure to eat right the rest of the day," he went on, "There'll be another practice tomorrow at 6am and pm."

So as everyone else went to go change into dry clothes, I marched back up to the castle. And here I am. Finny defrosting my toes and fingers.March 30, Sunday, 3 pm

"I think they're having their first fight.""What are you talking about? They've been going at each other for four years now."

"Ugh, I mean as a couple."

"Oh."

"Do you think they'll break up?"

"Please, Katie'll get over herself eventually."

"I'M RIGHT HERE YOU KNOW!"

So for most of the day I sat on my bed doing homework, in my spare warm and dry pajamas. Finny resting on my shoulder…and nipping my ear and pulling my hair here and there. Potions had been taking up most of my day. Normally I would've gone and found Oliver to help me, but maybe we were having our first fight. And I would not be the bigger person and be the first one to say I'm sorry…HE'S THE ONE SCHEDUALING DAWN PRACTICES!

April 3, Friday, History of magic

Will you just apologize to him already?

No.

Please?

Nope.

I'm so sick of him yelling at us because you two are in a fight.

He can apologize first.

Why don't you just be the mature one for once and say I'm sorry first?

Its not going to happen.

Why?

…because he started it.

…You know you miss him.

Do not.

Do too!

Uh!-what makes you think that!

you sit in our dorm almost all day every day!.

and the only reason you actually go to practice is to go at it with him!

…so?

I know you miss him.

I DO NOT!

well your little fight isn't helping your potions grades.

Not true!

sure, they've only reached a new record, an all time low.

Not true!

you got a 'T' on your last essay.

your point?

you're impossible.

so I've heard.

April 4, Saturday, after lunch.

"Bell! what was that for!"

"What?"

"You kicked me!"

"No I didn't! Now shut up and pass me the salt, Wood."

Ok, so maybe I did kick Oliver under the table, but he was the one giving me dirty looks through out lunch! He deserved it! And he never did pass me the salt.

April 6, Monday, lunch

You have got to love when your teachers know you're in a fight with your boyfriend. Absolutely love it."Miss Bell, could I have a word?"

This was right after D.A.D.A., I was starving and the bell had just rung to get to lunch, and I was planning on flying down to the Great Hall to gorge myself with delicious food.

I looked up from packing my books into my bag, "Um…" remember, I was starving, "Well I kinda have to be some where."

"Don't worry," Professor Lupin smiled, "I'd like to get to lunch soon too, absolutely starving."

I smiled too, "Alright, what is it?"

We started walking out of the classroom and down towards the Great Hall, me wondering what the hell the twins framed on me now.

"Is everything alright with you and Mr. Wood?" he asked as we came to the end of the corridor.

This kinda took me by surprise. It was pretty much the last question I was expecting.

"Umm…what do you mean, Professor?"

"I mean I hear you two yelling at each other all the way from the pitch outside my window."

I sort of laughed, "Oh, I'm sorry professor, I'll try and keep it down to a dull roar tonight."

At this I figured this little conversation was over with and I almost sprinted away, but he started up again. Professor Lupin is one of the very few teachers I genuinely like, but normally it's not a good idea to keep me away from a meal…he was walking as slow as molasses.

"That'd be great," he smiled, "But I was sorry to hear that you two were fighting."

"Oh, things happen when some one schedules a 5 am practice every other day," I explained, "we all get a little cranky. You should see Alicia."

He laughed at this. What can I say, I can be funny at times!

Right after dinner

apparently it has come to my attention that apparently EVERYONE knows about my fight with Oliver. I mean, it's only been like what, eight days, we've been in a fight and already girls from other houses are flirting with him. And yes, 'Nat' too. They're all idiots. I mean, technically Oliver is still mine…unless we broke up and I didn't realize it. That would be bad and not my fault because he didn't tell me about it…then how is everybody else under the impression that we are.

Professor McGonagall knows we're fighting too. I had another lovely lecture with a teacher on that touching subject. Peachy, ain't it?

"Ms. Bell, a word," it was more of a command then a request. I was attempting to sprint out of the classroom and get as far as way as possible (during the class I turned a gecko into a slimy spork when we were supposed to turn it into a perfect silverware knife) when she called me back at the last second.

"I'm sorry about the spork Profes-" I started. I was going to go on how I was going to 'try harder' and 'study more' and possibly 'practice outside of class'.

"It's not about your inability to transfigure things into silverware."

"Oh," what could I have possibly done to deserve to be held after now? "Well, what did I do? And whatever it is, I didn't do it."

Being extremely close friends with Fred and George you always expect the worse.

"How's practice going these days?"

That one took me off guard. I know she's just as bent as Ol- I mean a certain someone-to win the cup, but she has never asked 'how's things?'…EVER!

"Er…" I rubbed my cheek, "great, I guess. Our captain's really pushing us."

She gave me one of those faces your mom gives you when you know she knows EVERYTHING, before walking over to her desk and sitting down, rummaging through one of the draws. "Come here for a second."

I had half a mind to turn on my heel and run out the door, thinking she was going to throw a gecko in my face and forcing me to stay over night until I get the transfiguration right. But none the less, my stupid legs started walking and before I knew it I was in front of her desk.

"Normally," Professor McGonagall started, "I hate showing students grades before I hand them out, but," she paused, giving me once again another knowing look, "I'll make an exception this time."

And with out further ado, she brought out my latest test, with a big red 'P' right next to my name. I groaned and she continued to pull out several of my latest all time low grades. Why didn't she just shoot me on the spot.

"Now I know the final match is coming up," she said, pulling out my fifth and thankfully last test. "But I have to ask you to try harder. No matter how many practices Mr. Wood is giving you," she added.

Damn, that was my last line of excuses.

"So you've seen the pitch bookings," I said, trying to laugh lightly.

"I've seen the reasons for it," she corrected. I was about to ask if she thought us as a crappy team when she pulled out several other tests. I almost cried when I saw more P's and even a T, but then I realized the handwriting thankfully wasn't mine but-

"Oliver's test?" I asked. Completely dumbfounded by both why she was showing me these and why Oliver- I mean my captain- was getting such crappy grades.

"Unfortunately," she sighed, pushing them over to me, "Take a closer look."

I shifted uncomfortably. I felt a little guilty looking through his tests, considering they were so bad, then I remembered all the dawn practices, all the shouting matches and all the times he practically sat on me as I tried to do push ups. Then I smiled and looked through them.

When I was done flipping through the test, I was as confused as ever. I looked up at Professor McGonagall. "Well he definitely has room to improve," I smiled, putting them back down, "Professor?" I asked, "Why did you have me go through these?"

"Look closer," was that a hint of a smile, "In the margins."

Still completely missing the point of this whole thing, I flipped through them again, this time discarding his sloppy-but-still-readable-handwriting and the stupid mistakes I knew he knew. And what do you know, there was actually writing in the margins. More than that. There were hearts.

Yes hearts in the margins of the freaking-Scottish-son-of-a-bitch-captain-whose-heart-is-currently-lost-in-a-void Oliver Wood. Well, they were more like scratched out hearts . And guess what was barely readable in them. That's right 'K.B.', that would be me. As the dates in the top right corner became more current, he got a little more creative. Like drawing a broom and my initials would be barely visible in the tail or written in minute writing around the inside of one of the three hoops.

Now what was I supposed to do about this? I mean, the latest test was taken today first period!

The world is working against me. They all want me to cave. But the world is going to be disappointed, because I will not cave in!

I put down the tests this time more astonished then I had been right after the Ravenclaw match.

"Now," Professor McGonagall said, picking up the tests and putting them back in her desk, "I would hate to lose the cup of a silly fight in a teenage romance. Good day Ms. Bell"

"'Bye Professor," I was lucky my legs have a power over my brain and walked me straight out the door.

April 7, Tuesday, noon

"Look who decided to actually show up on time today."

"Just shut it, Wood," I scowled, chucking the quaffle in his chest. It was a 6-9 practice and I was trying to get as much homework done before hand, with out Oliver potions was taking double the amount of time. And so last practice I showed up two minutes late at the most. Big whoop.

I hadn't talked to him since that 4 am morning practice a week ago, I mean beside the 'yeah', 'sure' and what not that goes along with him being my captain, and some shouting matches on the pitch.

You could cut the tension with a knife. It was mine and 'Lic's turn to carry out the crate of balls to practice, that explains where the quaffle came from. We weren't even on our brooms and we were going at it already.

"Now," he said in his captain-commando voice once again. "Now all of you get on your brooms. Bell here just gave you all 20 laps to start off with."

Bastard…

So from 6-9 that's pretty much how practice went. Oliver would yell at me and I would yell back and we would all get in trouble for it. I think he thought I would learn my lesson, but I'm just too stubborn to back off. This had been going on in every practice for the past week, 'Lic and Ang had been begging me to apologize to him but I said not until he does first.

But Oliver put a little twist to practice under the lights of the pitch. For the last half hour of practice we 'played' bonsai. It's some stupid drill where one of the chasers will fly around the pitch and try to avoid the two bludgers that the beaters are constantly trying to pelt at us. Fun, I know.

Alicia and Angelina did alright. They each only got hit two or three times and it wasn't anything bad, just a knick off the shoulder. Did I mention we had to hold on to the quaffle too and that it had started to down pour just as it was my turn? no, well, that's what happened. oh, and Oliver added two more bludgers to the mix, just for little old me. Remind me to thank him.

I did pretty good, I think. Or at least I was. We were really only supposed to be doing this for 5 minutes at a time. But Oliver had me going for at least twenty minutes. And those were my most stubborn twenty minutes ever. I was zooming and twisting and diving and twirling around that pitch gripping onto that quaffle so tight I think my fingers turned blue trying to avoid those four bludgers. The only thing I could think of was to show Oliver up and that the twins must've really been enjoying this.

But I never really did show Oliver up. Two of the bludgers hit me, one square in the left shoulder and the other on the side of my right knee, and I fell off my broom and face first into the mud. Thank god I was only ten feet above the ground and thank god mud is actually really good for your skin.

I moaned into the mud as I heard Oliver say practice was over and told everyone to go in and his footsteps sloshing in the mud coming towards me. Kudos to the twins, it was a good hit no matter how much It hurt…which was a lot.

"Kat?" Oliver asked gently, placing a hand on my shoulder.

What, all of a sudden we're back on first name basis after a practice straight from hell? A week and a day of practices straight from hell?

And of course he had to touch my know bad shoulder, peachy.

"What hurts, Kat?" he asked softly.

"My shoulder," I said, gritting my teeth and sitting up, practically throwing his hand off me "And here's your damn quaffle," I spat, slamming the quaffle into his chest, I held onto it after all. "Seems all you think about is Quidditch anyway."

It's true, for the past week he's been hunched over that little model of his coming up with new plays.

And with that I marched, aka hobbled, back towards the locker room where the rest of the team was, leaving Oliver standing dumbly in the rain…or so I thought.

Next thing I knew I was face first in the mud again. Turns out he chucked the quaffle in the back of my now bad knee and it collapsed under me and I couldn't put my hands out because I was massaging my shoulder.

The other next thing I knew Oliver was practically dragging me to my knees and pulling my up by my robes. By the time I was sitting on my feet he was holding me with my arms pinned to my side. Both my shoulder and knee was burning white hot by know. Remind me to thank him for this now too. He was on his knees in front of me.

So did the only sensible thing, I head butted him.

Ok, so maybe it wasn't sensible, but I got my point across because I couldn't hit or kick him at the moment.

"Don't you have some new play to go figure out and drill into our heads or do you just want to hit me WITH A FEW MORE BLUDGERS?" I spat at him as he was recovering from the stupid thing I had just done, I couldn't exactly walk away because he was still gripping my robes.

And that's more or less where I blacked out. I guess from all the screaming all the blood from my head went straight out my knee and shoulder.

Ok, I'm going to be a terrible person and leave you here.

Sooooooo sorry I didn't get this up earlier. You see, it was practically impossible for me to do anything extra until the end of October (my volleyball team made it to regionals) and then my comp got a virus and I had to give it to the geek squad at best buy (if you don't know don't ask) and I can only hope this chapter was half way decent and I already have half of the next chap written up. Just needs a few tweaks.

Ok, I'll get it up soon!

P.S. I still haven't seen the fourth movie (I know, I'm a disgrace!) so don't mention it in the reviews or I'll be forced to plug my fingers in my ears and sing some random song…and I can't sing!