"Katie, wake up!" I heard someone shout. I opened my eyes reluctantly and looked around the dormitory for the source of the voice. I looked at the door where Oliver was standing, exasperated. I looked at the clock. It was early, too early.

"Oliver, its 5 AM. We still have an hour before practice!"

"You want to help me out or what?" he asked.

"How am I supposed to help you at 5 in the morning! I'm too tired to think straight!"

"I just need someone to help me practice, that's all. Please?" He looked at me pleadingly. I smiled and gave in.

"Alright...but give me some time to get dressed. OK?"

"Yeah, sure," he said, and he walked out of the room, his feet banging against the stone steps. Why does he always get to me? I thought as I forced myself out of bed. I got dressed and crept out of the room quietly, careful not to wake Alicia and Angelina.

I smiled, the wind whipping through my long, blond hair, as I dived down to catch the quaffle, which was falling rapidly towards the ground. I reached out my hand and felt it on the tip of my fingers. I sped up and gripped it tightly, and held it under my arm is I angled my broom away from the ground. I looked towards and sped towards his goalpost, attempting to throw it through the tall hoop he was guarding. He moved to block it quickly and caught it right before it shot through.

"Almost got you there, didn't I?" I said, laughing as he tried to regain his balance.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," he said, throwing it back to me. "At least I didn't drop the quaffle."

"You didn't tell me you let out a bludger! I didn't know it was going to knock it out of my hand!"

"I did so tell you I let one out, but you weren't listening. You were too busy zooming around on your brand new broom to listen to me!" He said, joking, a smile edging across his face.

"I haven't flown in two months! I needed to fly a little!" I shouted defensively.

"You mean you never practiced?"

"I live with my muggle mother, how am I supposed to find a place to practice?"

He looked at me, obviously disappointed. His bright smile quickly faded as he realized  I hadn't practiced all summer. "I was hoping that everyone would be able to practice during the summer-"

"And most people did," I interrupted. "Except me, and Harry, obviously."

"Hey!" I heard someone call from the ground. I looked down at Fred, who was looking up at us. "Who's there?!"

"Who d'you think?" Oliver called back. He seemed amused that Fred didn't realize it was him.

"Oliver! How're ya doin'? We didn't know where you two were. We thought you were in an abandoned classroom snogging or something."

"What?!" I yelled at him, trying to hide my rapidly blushing face. "Fred!"

"Ignore him!" Angelina said, stepping onto the field. "He doesn't know that two people of the opposite sex can be good friends without having actual feeling for each other." She mounted her broom and zoomed toward the goal post, where I sat silently hovering. She stopped along side me, Alicia following close behind.

"What were you doing, anyway?" Alicia asked, curiously.

"Just helping Oliver practice..." I said.

"Sure she was," Fred said sarcastically. "And I'm the Minister of Magic."

"That would be a nightmare," I heard Angelina mutter under her breath.

"Hey Wood!" a voice called from back on the ground. I looked down at Marcus Flint, who was standing in the middle of the field with a smirk on his face. "Mind if we practice? We got a new chaser to train!"

"Yes," Oliver answered bluntly, "we do mind. And what do you mean new chaser?"

"Oh, I thought you knew..." Flint said. A tall figure walked up towards Flint at the front of the group. "This is Josh Hayden."

I flew down towards the ground to take a closer look at my soon-to-be competitor. He was tall with light brown hair, with deep green eyes. He gave me a quick smile and I smiled back. I mean, what was I supposed to do? Even though he was on the Slytherin team, he was still hot. And who knows, maybe he was nice, unlike all the other people in his house.

I would soon find out.

"Dammit!" Oliver yelled, storming into the locker room after practice.

"Oliver, calm down! He wasn't that good..." I lied.

"Are you blind? Did you not see him?" Oliver replied, banging his head into the locker.

"Okay, so he was good," Fred said. "Hell, he was excellent."

"You're not helping," said Oliver, through gritted teeth.

"But we can beat him! He's only a Slytherin after all...and stop banging you're head into the damn locker. You might dent it."

"My head? I can't dent my—"

"No, not your head! The locker! That's my locker!" Oliver slumped back onto the bench behind him, burying his head in his hands. I wasn't sure exactly what to say to him. The truth was, Josh was good, really good. What was I supposed to do, lie to him? I couldn't lie to Oliver, I never could. I just stood there for a while watching him as the rest of the team flooded out the door to get breakfast. After a few minutes, I sat next to him and he looked up at me.

"We're not going to win the Cup this year. Not with him opposing us," he said.

"Maybe not, but we still have a chance... I mean, sure, they've got one good player, but we've got seven. Don't give up." He looked up at me, smiling.

"I guess you're right in a way...."

"And if we're going to win, you have to eat," I said, standing up. "Let's go have breakfast. I'm starved."