I rolled out of bed and landed with a thud on top of Alicia's hairbrush, "OW!" That's going to leave a mark. I re-adjusted to my new position, laying half on my bed, half with my face pressed against the dormitory carpet. And was falling back to sleep when -

"Katie! Leanne! Angelina!" Alicia screeched.

I could hear, mumbled 'five more minutes' and 'go back to bed'

"WE WERE SUPPOSED TO BE IN CLASS A HALF HOUR AGO!."

That got us all moving, Angelina jumped up first cursing.

We scrambled to find robes and hair ties.

"Where's my bloody sock?" Angelina dived on the floor, trying in vain to locate the sock that had gone M.I.A.

"Alicia you've got my bloody sock!"

"This is my sock, Angelina your wearing socks"

"No I'm not! Where are my socks?"

"Katie, your robes are on back to front!"

"Leanne, good god woman get dressed,"

We all scrambled about for another ten minutes, until finally we were all dressed.

"I can't believe we slept in! This is unbelievable" Angelina hissed as she ran off towards the Ancient Runes, Leanne following close behind.

Professor Sprout was glaring from her desk unfortunately seated right the table I was sharing as we sat doing theory work in Greenhouse four.

She had spent the first ten minutes after I'd arrived chastising me for being late. "Your complete disregard for any sort of common courtesy…you just can't be late in herbology …what if we had've been re potting devils snare? Oh just Sit down and get on with your work," snapped the flustered professor, trying to sound steely and terrifying, even though she had a weedy little voice and had muck all over her face from working in the greenhouse all day.

I picked up a dictionary and tried to look intelligent.

Flicking through it looking for amusing words.

I suddenly caught the professor's eye again.

A dangerous moment.

Ok. I'll do my essay...The root of the whomping willow is used in ...

"Now, Katie," tinkled Sprout with a severe frown, "Underneath all your wise-cracking I know there is a serious scholar trying to get out. Think of how proud your parents would be if you realised your potential. Now off you go – and remember, I'll be looking for signs of improvement!"

I nodded, trying to look tragic and guilty, and left the classroom.

"Ah lunch, is there a subject any finer?" George said with his mouth full, of what I could only identify as yellow mush.

"No Old Bean. There is not" Fred added rubbing his stomach. The three of us were sitting by the lake, we each had a free lesson so decided to spend it avoiding studying.

Across from us, Roger Davies and Oliver Wood were engaged in conversation, presumably something boring and masculine about Quidditch or something, they clearly looked like they'd begun to argue quite ferociously, suddenly Oliver stormed over to us and sat himself down besides me.

"Bloody Davies" he fumed.

"What's he done now?" I asked.

"He's only gone and booked the Quidditch pitch this afternoon!"

George and I looked at each other grinning! Yes! I have extra time to get ready for my date with Cedric!

"Oh, That sucks mate. Still, we have tomorrow to practise." George patted Oliver on the back. Giving me a look that clearly told me, this was very good news.

"Yay! A night off!" I did a little dance.

"What? You aren't getting a night off missy"

"What? But they booked the pitch!"

"Yeah, but he said we could have one end, not enough room for a whole team practise mind, but enough room for me to catch you up on what you missed the other night."

"Noo! This is so unfair!"

"Yeah. Well. I'll see you on the pitch at six sharp."

"I hate you." I said, throwing a clump of grass at his retreating form.

"No you don't!" he called back.

"You ready Bell?" Oliver clamped his hand on my shoulder, possibly in an attempt to knock me into the ground.

"Do I have to?"

He rolled his eyes and we headed over to the other side of the Quidditch pitch.

"Ok, we'll just do a few drills in throwing and catching ok?" He threw the Quaffle at me, and it hit me in the chest – hard.

"Ow! What the bloody hell was that for?"

"Testing your reflexes!" he smirked.

After a Quidditch practise that lasted approximately eleven years, Oliver decided we'd done enough and we headed to the Gryffindor locker rooms.

"My arms hurt, and my legs hurt, and my pockets hurt" I complained, dragging my broom behind me as we traipsed into the locker room.

"Do you always whinge this much?" Oliver raised an eyebrow.

"No I don't. I reserve my complaints for a time I feel appropriate and for a person who truly deserves to hear it, because of their truly, unbelievably inhumane –

"Forget I asked." He shook his head.

It didn't take long for us to get changed into our school robes, so we sat in the locker room for a while chatting.

"What do you mean you think the weird sisters suck? They are musical genius's!" I cried in dismay at Oliver's true lack of musical taste.

"I just think they are trying too hard to get a sound like the sinister spiders, you know that singer is lethal–

"Oliver. Gross. I don't need to sit in here while you salivate over girls, besides I don't think your girlfriend would like it that much!"

Oliver was currently dating a Ravenclaw seventh year called Erica Palmer. She was tall and slim with the most irritating laugh the world had ever had the misfortune to hear.

"I don't really wanna talk about her," Oliver said, suddenly straightening.

"Oh no, Oliver, I'm so sorry, She collapsed from malnourishment didn't she? Oh if I'd only made her a sandwich sooner!" I wiped imaginary tears from my eyes, as Oliver gave me a warning look, though the slight curve of the side of his mouth gave me the impression it was quite safe to continue.

"Oh dear, what will come of the wizarding world without Erica's truly intellectual comments, such as "Sure there have been injuries and deaths in Quidditch - but none of them serious", and "Half this game is ninety percent mental."

"Ok, Ok I get the point, you don't like her!" Oliver said standing up to be at eye level with me, though owing to his being a head taller than me it was a bit more intimidating than I had thought.

"My dear Oliver, it seems you've been misinformed! I don't dislike her at all! I loathe her, detest her with all my being." Oliver made to grab me, but a swift kick to the shin region made him recoil.

"what did you do that for?" He groaned rubbing his shin.

"Testing your reflexes!" I grinned and ran out of the change room, laughing like a maniac all the way back to the Gryffindor common room.