I concede defeat. I cannot stay awake for 24 hours, charcoalbrumby. *feels like screaming in frustration*
I took a nap and never woke up again! GRR! AND I wasn't allowed caffeine or an alarm clock! *sigh* I'll still finish my 24 hours. Next up, Oliver Wood!
Oliver stomped up the stairs in Gryffindor Tower. Reaching the boy's dorms, he bellowed, "OI! Quidditch practice, Gryffindor team!"
He received three moans in return. Oliver ignored them and entered the 3rd year dorm, ripped Harry's curtains open and yelled, "Up, Seeker! We've got to practice to win the match against Slytherin!"
Then, the Gryffindor Keeper marched back down into the Common Room and stood, feet planted firmly, waiting for his unwilling team.
A few minutes later, the pitiful Gryffindor team slouched into the Common Room, yawning and rubbing their eyes. Fred or George said, "Bloody hell, Oliver, it's 3 in the morning!"
Oliver just beamed and said, practically bouncing with excitement, "That's right! Our new training programme. There's no way that the other teams are practicing yet!"
Without waiting for a reply, he flung open the portrait and marched out. The team stared at each other. Harry swayed on the spot and said blearily, "No bloody way am I going out at 3 in the freezing morning to listen to Oliver's lectures! I'm going on STRIKE!"
Katie Bell sighed, "Me too, Harry. Oliver can make his speeches to himself if he really wants to."
Muttering agreements, the entire team stumbled back up to their respective dormitories and collapsed in their beds, dead to the world once more.
Meanwhile, Oliver was already down in the changing rooms. Without turning around, he pulled on his Quidditch robes, fumbled around a bit and found a pile of diagrams. He started lecturing about his new tactics, never noticing that his team wasn't there.
When he finally finished, he turned around and said with a relish, "So, any ques…" The Captain suddenly realized that there was nobody.
"BLOODY HELL!"