haha haha, oh god your reviews make me laugh. I'm glad you all loved my famous renditions of American slang (and I'm a new Yorker-represent. HOLLA! Lol, jk jk) so it's alright for those people who weren't sure if I was from the grand ol' US of A…because I am…

Ok, time to stop rambling and start the story again!

May 24, Wednesday, 8 pm

yeah, so I'm attempting to write a letter back to Joe about his girl problems-god that sounded weird. And so far, this is all I got.

To my fav boi-cuz and King of 'god help me get rid of Camellia!': Joseph Ricardo Rizzatti,

I would love to be that one, kind, warm hearted, smart person to tell you to just sit down and have a talk with this Camellia person, tell her the truth and say 'I would just like to be friends'. but god knows I could never pull that off.

So my advice is either completely ignore her, give her the ice cold shoulder you pulled on me that one time you got mad at me when we were abandoned at Auntie Rina's for the weekend, or be as unattractive as possible. You know how to do that. Burp, yawn, talk too much and then too little, scratch yourself, don't bathe as usual-you know what I mean. and if that doesn't work (which means this girl is probably the witch almost every guy dreams of) hex her and leave her in a closet.

If she doesn't get the message by then, she's a bumbling idiot.

Love,

One of the current seven gods of Hogwarts and why-in-the-name-of-grandma's-cooking-did-you-ask-for-MY-advice-of-all-people,

Katherine Ann Bell

"Why do I think this is going to do more harm than good?" I muttered to myself, looking over my letter after I wrote it up in my dorm, sitting on my bed, in the fifth year girls dorm in the Griffindor tower on the seventh floor of Hogwarts which is located somewhere in England and if I have to give any more description on where I was sitting I might scream.

I just groaned and flopped back on my pillow.

It was after classes and I hadn't gotten much sleep last night and it had just dawned on me how comfortable my pillow was at that moment. So to make a long story short-I stretched out and fell asleep only to be waken up an hour later than none other by our endearing captain.

I nearly jumped right off my bed.

"Oliver!"

Yes, he pulled that stunt on me again. You know the one, where I'm sleeping peacefully, minding my own business and then he goes and puts his face about an inch from mine so when I open my sleepy eyes I'm instantly awake? I knew you remembered.

"What?" he asked in a would-be-innocent voice.

"What do you think?" I rebutted, still flustered from my wake up.

"I think that you have the prettiest eyes," he said, his face still inched from mine-completely ignoring my somewhat rhetorical question.

I just gave him a puzzled look.

"Well, from a distance your eyes look brown. But then up close you realize that they're really a dark green with a brown flower around your pupil," he explained. "Very pretty."

"Oliver," I laughed, looking into his own shiny chocolate brown eyes.

"What?" he asked as he flopped down next to me.

"I love you," I muttered as I nestled into him.

Damn he's comfortable.

May 25, Thursday, 4 pm

"…And as you all know, you're OWLS are on June 12 and…" McGonagall rambled on.

There I was. Sitting in Transfiguration, doodling nonsense things in my notebook when she drops this BOMB on us.

I instantly sat as straight as a board, dropped my quill and my eyes went as far as to bug out.

"Katie?" 'Lic asked in a hushed whisper, snapping her fingers in front of my face. "Katie, are you IN there?"

"The OWLS are in 18 days," I said shortly, "DAYS!" I said, snapping my head towards her.

"What's your point?" Ange asked as she continued doodling herself.

"DAYS Ange! DAYS! Not weeks, not months, not years, DAYS!"

"You're losing it," 'Lic said observantly.

"GOOD CALL!" I said loudly enough for McGonagall to take five house points away.

9 pm

"Kat?"

So what if I was currently nose-to-grain with our favorite table in the library right after classes. So what if I missed dinner in order to study for the ever growing presence of the OWLS that I didn't notice until today. So what?

"Kat?" Oliver asked, sitting in the chair next to me and pulling on my shoulders lightly so I was sitting upright.

God I must've looked a mess. I had been studying for four hours, I was still in my uniform which was probably the most disarrayed this castle has ever seen, and my hair probably looked like a lion's mane. Peachy, ain't it?

"Are you alright?" he asked softly, a look of concern on his face.

I bite my bottom lip and grabbed the collar of his robes, pulling him so his nose was not even an inch from mine, "The OWLS are in 18 days!" I croaked.

Oliver chuckled and gently pried my death grip of his robes and held my hands him his. "Kat, you're going to be fine."

"How do you know?" I asked skeptically, my eyes narrowing a bit.

"I did decent enough on them," he smiled warmly. "And if I can do that, so can you."

"Really?"

"Of course, you're a much better student than me."

"Thanks, Ol'," I smiled faintly, "but-"

"But what?"

"18 days."

Oliver laughed before moving his chair closer to mine and helping me.

"Thanks, Ol'," I said, giving him a hug across the shoulders at 8 when we were getting ready to finally leave. "I really owe you one."

"Don't I know it."

I laughed before giving him another hug and a peck on the cheek, "You know you're the best…right?"

He gave me an exasperated sigh, "Yeah, I know."

May 26, Friday, after dinner

"I want to have practice."

The majority of us stared up at Oliver blankly. It was after classes and we were all sitting in our shorts and tees on this freaking hot day of may. And in waltzes Oliver, telling us he wants to have a practice.

"No," 'Lic and Ange said, never looking up from the magazine they were sharing, sitting next to each other on the couch.

"But look at the words he uses," Fred said, across the chessboard from me "I want to have practice. Not we are having practice. I WANT to have practice."

"which means we can say no with out fear of death or disembodiment," George said from next to me on the floor. We teamed up against Fred because he had beat both our butts on several occasions. No wonder him and Ange are together, they're each others only real competition in this game.

"And therefore, no," the twins chorused.

"Kat?"

I was staring at the chessboard, biting my bottom lip. God knows I suck a chess and that my only strategy is to make random moves and try-TRY-not to get killed. So my point is, I didn't hear Oliver in my extreme state of thought.

But I vaguely remember Oliver practically picking George up by the collar of his shirt and dropping him in the near by chair. And I do remember him basically getting on hands and knees and begging on my right where George just was.

"Kat? Please?"

Suddenly aware of his presence and the fact that his left hand was resting on my shoulder and gripping my patriots tee and his right was on my bent knee, I snapped my head towards him.

And damn it he was giving me puppy eyes. Puppy eyes! Do you know how unfair that is? And he has chocolate brown eyes! That is such an advantage!

"Oh Ol', you know puppy eyes is cheating," I moaned as his eyes got even bigger-or as I imagined them to get bigger.

He moved around so he was sitting behind me with his legs on either side of me and wrapped his left arm around my waist as the other mysteriously found it's way to my lower back under my shirt and for no apparent reason started tracing little circles with the tips of his fingers.

And he didn't stop! I tried to ignore the fact that this was sending my nerve endings racing around and sending signals to my brain to stop playing chess and just snog the man senseless! But Merlin knows I can't do that! How do you ignore something like that.

"Ooooohhh," I groaned in defeat, "Everybody go get your damn brooms and get out to the pitch," I said as I myself stood up and went to go get mine.

"Why don't you just snog her into doing everything Wood" I heard Ange say half-heartedly.

"That was cheating!" the twins chorused.

"I refuse," Fred said fifteen minutes later as I handed him his beater's bat. "I blatantly refuse."

"Fine," I said, placing my hands on my hips, still holding the bat, "I guess I'll have to be a beater-"

"NO!" six voices instantly yelled from where ever they were in the pitch.

"Kates, just give me the bat before a bludger comes," Fred said in a what-would-be coaxing voice. "Nice and easy now-"

"Just take it Fred," I said, thrusting it into his stomach.

"So exactly what are we going to do?" Harry asked.

"Scrimmage?" I offered. "3 v. 3 and I guess you can just grab the snitch for who ever is winning at the moment. Ok?"

"Ok," Ange said. "But I get Fred."

"And I get George!" 'Lic called as she came over.

"Yeah but I'm-" Oliver started.

"-was-" the twins chorused, smiling innocently at the glare Oliver sent them.

"-I'm the captain so I get to-" he continued.

"-You don't get to make the teams!" we all shouted at once.

"So I get Katie," Ange said quickly.

"Not fair!" 'Lic cried. "Then I'm stuck with Oliver!"

"What do you mean stuck with me?" Oliver asked, practically fuming.

"You're the one who wanted to have practice," I pointed out.

"Yeah?" he asked, his features and voice softening as he whispered in my ear as Ange and 'Lic still bickered. "Well you started it."

Damn him. I hate it when he puts on that voice. It makes it just short of impossible to snog him so hard that he can't walk straight. Be strong Katie, be strong and resist the urge…RESIST!

"No, no," I said softly, "I believe you were the one who started it."

"It's amazing how they can make any sentence suggestive," Fred commentated to his twin.

"I know," George agreed, "Will you say 'spoon' suggestively for me?"

"Oh just get in the air!" Oliver yelled, getting on his broom and taking off. "And let's just start this already!"

Ange and 'Lic stopped their bickering.

"Why are his boxers all in a twist?" 'Lic asked.

"Because they're not the Quidditch ones," I said without missing a beat, smirking like there was no tomorrow.

"No they're not and what if they are?" Oliver yelled down at us.

"Too much information!" 'Lic shrieked

"Great," Ange muttered as she got on her own broom, "Now I have perfect mental images of Wood in Quidditch boxers. Just great."

"You cheated!"

"OH please! We did not!"

"Yes you did!"

"You cannot just handle the fact that we beat you three times in a row!"

"Only because you cheated."

Three hours after playing against each other I bet you'll be surprised to know that me and Oliver weren't the ones fighting for a change. Yup, that's right. It was 'Lic and Fred going at it. But because the fact that they're not a couple doesn't make it nearly as interesting. Personally, I'm kinda glad it wasn't Ange and Fred going at because they seem to fix these things by suddenly eating each other's faces off.

Speaking of which Ange literally came out of nowhere and started eating Fred's face off.

So I guess it's her fault these things happen…

"My eyes!" 'Lic shrieked, her hands instantly finding a secure place clamped over her eyes.

I sent Oliver a look of confusion.

Currently we were standing in a state of shock with him using me as an arm rest.

"Did that just happen?" I asked him, my brow furrowed.

"No," he said, looking back at them before turning back to me, "It's still happening."

I laughed with him when someone cleared their throat from behind us and we both snapped around.

God knows when this woman showed up. She was wearing a pair of jeans with a gold tank top and royal blue robes that had gold trim. She was about my height and she had wavy chocolate brown hair and the most piercing blue eyes I think I have ever seen. My guess she was around 31.

"Oliver Wood?" she asked formally, holding out her hand.

"Er, yes, that's me," he said, shaking her hand.

"Macy Grains," she nodded, letting her hand fall, "I'm the manager of Puddlemere United."

I think my jaw promptly fell to the ground.

"I'm sorry," she said, turning to me smiling kindly, "I didn't catch who you were."

Oh is the manager of Puddlemere United talking to me? I better bring my jaw back to it's normal location.

"I'm Katie Bell," I smiled, shaking her outstretched hand.

"Very nice to meet you, but do you mind if I borrow Mr. Wood here for a moment?"

"Oh no, not at all," I smiled. "Take all the time you need."

She smiled a thanks before leading a very uncertain Oliver over a few feet.

"Who the hell was that?" George asked, suddenly standing behind me.

I turned around and slapped him on the shoulder.

"What was that for?" he asked pouting.

"You know not to do that!" I said sternly.

"Ok, jeez, I'm sorry, mum," he laughed, holding up his hands in 'innocence'.

I laughed too, you really can't hold a grudge against him for too long. Ok, so you can't hold a grudge against him at all but that's beside the point.

"That's Marcy Grains," I said, nodding my head to where Oliver was still talking to her. Completely out of earshot I might mention.

"In English would be nice."

"The manager of Puddlemere United," I sighed smiling.

"So he's…?"

"Most definitely."

"Wow."

"Yup," I smiled, "He deserves it."

"Hell," he barked, "We deserve it. I mean, we're the ones he wakes up at 5-no, correction, 2 in the morning."

I laughed.

"And I'm not even the one sleeping with him…"

I punched him in the shoulder, still smiling.

"Ok, that force was a tad unnecessary."

"I thought it was completely called for."

"What's going on?" 'Lic asked, wrapping a hand around George's waist.

"Our-well, Kat's-Woody-kinns is moving on to better and bigger things," George explained with a mock hint of awe in his voice with a sigh.

"What do you mean?" 'Lic asked as Marcy and Oliver started walking back up to the castle as Oliver sent me a look over his shoulder, absolutely beaming.

"He's currently getting recruited."

'Lic punched his shoulder playfully, "NO WAY!"

"Why does everyone feel the need to punch me?"

"ANGE! UNGLUE YOUR MOUTH FROM FRED'S FOR LIKE TWO SECONDS!"

"What?" she called, sounding rather annoyed.

"Oliver's getting recruited!"

"NO WAY!"

moving onto bigger and better things? better than what we have here? Bigger, maybe. But BETTER? This made me bite my lip, furrow my brow and think about how plans for tonight just changed. and when I mean change, I mean go sob into my pillow.

Oh my god I'm so sorry for this disappointing update. I promise I'll continue things better on in my next chap. And I'm so sorry for not updating for so long. I had a HUGE advanced placement European history test which is basically a test on the past 500 years of history of Europe. SO sorry once again. But good news! I came up with a new summary and updated my profile. So yeah, go me!

And the same reviewing thing as last time. Gimme a quote and some decent praise even though I know this chap wasn't that good. SO SORRY AGAIN!