Chapter Nine is here...finally. Enjoy. :) I don't own anything, by the way.

Chapter Nine: Pretty Boys and Bad Boys

I had crawled into bed shortly after my encounter with Oliver in the common room, but when the screeching noise of my alarm clock went off at exactly six o'clock, I was anything but prepared. I groped around in the dark to find the off button, my face still buried deep in my pillow.

"Is it time for practice already?" Alicia yawned from her bed.

"Say it isn't so!" Angelina groaned. They had been out when I had fallen asleep last night I sat up and immediately regretted it. The warm blankets and pillows beckoned me. If only...

"Someone remind me why I joined this team?" Alicia was complaining as we all piled in the washroom. I spit out a mouthful of toothpaste. I supposed I ought to be used to early morning practices. The day after our Hogsmeade trip had been one of many. Oliver believed that any practice beginning after eight o'clock in the morning would be a waste-unless, of course, it was a day of classes. In which case, any time after four was ridiculous.

"Just think, Al...only a few more weeks of this." Angelina encouraged, straightening her hair and sitting crossed-legged on the toilet seat. Still in our jammies, we yappered about wasting our perfectly good sleep-in-Saturday and bitching about Oliver's obvious insanity. By six thirty we were downstairs with a few bran muffins and waters from our mini-fridge, sporting our maroon and gold practice jerseys.

It took us less time than I thought to get to the rink, but Oliver, Fred and George were already there, standing expectantly on the ice.

"You're late." Oliver barked as Alicia and I trailed in after Angelina.

Alicia rolled her eyes. "Its just six; don't get your knickers all twisted up. We're practically early."

"Early is on time, on time is late."

Now, that sounded like the Oliver Wood we all knew and loved. He skated towards us as we began lacing up our skates. He eyed me carefully before asking if I would be alright to practice. No, I thought with horror. Not at all! Terrence had offered to teach me a few things, but between classes and figuring out what the hell was going on, there hadn't been much time to teach. Luckily, I had nabbed a few books in the library about the game. Apparently, King Charles took its hockey very seriously.

Still, I had never been much of a bookworm. I was an athlete, and therefore got the hang of a thing here and there, but there was a huge difference between reading and preforming. Too bad my first attempt would be on rock hard ice. I wondered if it felt any better than a bludger...

I was still sitting down when the door opened and a few loud, rambunctious boys walked in. A dark brown haired boy smiled and sat next to me.

"Feeling better, Katie? Heard you hit your head at that little mandatory practice Wood had you go to."

I glanced over at him and blinked. He had to be the most gorgeous boy on the planet. He had shaggy dark brown hair and an easy going smile. His light brown eyes were gentle-so much like Oliver's had been once upon a time. I wondered what was up with this school and their mad amounts of good looking lads.

He looked at me expectantly and I blinked and smiled weakly. "Oh, yeah. I can't think very straight right now."

"The understatement of the century. Katie didn't bloody well know who she was!" Alicia said, standing up.

"Is that so?" brown-boy asked me, looking worried. I felt rude calling him such, but, like Al so nicely put it, I barely knew myself, much less a strange teenage boy.

"Unfortunately." I muttered, trying to be polite. He smiled and gave me a one armed hug before jumping to his feet and saying, "Well, you'll do fine, like you always do. We better get out there before Wood has a coronary." As soon as he was out of ear shot, I leaned over to where Angelina was stretching her legs.

"Let me guess," she interjected before I even opened my mouth. "You wanna know who that is? Addison. Brad Addison."

Brad Addison. Fitting. In my experience, guys named Brad were always dreamy. Most importantly, Brad Pitt.

"Huh." I replied leaning back and finishing my laces. Oliver was already barking orders when I moved to my feet. I shut my eyes and took a deep breath. I could do this. I was Katie Bell, after all, Hogwarts' Most Athletic Female. I had earned the respect and attention of many a Quidditch enthusiast. As a little girl, I played soccer and softball and all kinda of muggle sports. And it wasn't like I had never been on ice before. Cold winters and frozen lakes were my favorite. I just needed to pretend like I knew what I was doing.

Yeah. No sweat.

Practice would have gone lovely if it wasn't for one minor detail. Muggle Oliver was an even bigger prick than wizard Oliver. I wondered if his throat had gone sore half-way during practice. Never before has the Scottish brogue sound so unappetizing. Everything I did was wrong. Even the things I was sure I had nailed. For a Captain, he wasn't much of a leader. Not forgiving one bit, considering I'd slammed my head onto hard ice just a few days ago and had no recollection of where or who I was.

I wasn't the only one who got a face full of angry Scotsman. In fact, all the team seemed to have rubbed Oliver the wrong way-even the twins. Seeing this side of Oliver made me pine for the days of my compassionate Quidditch Nazi. Despite his obsessiveness, Oliver would never speak to his teammates disrespectfully. That was simply how a leader did not work.

Needless to say, by the time I had stripped my stakes off and traded them for my pearly white trainers, I was exhausted and pissed. Who would have thought that after five years of painful practices and endless workouts, I would be beaten by a forty minute scrimmage.

Maybe that was because I never had a drill-Sargent in my ear till now. It wasn't something I wanted to repeat.

"Bell!" Oliver called as I turned to leave. I winced, hearing my name fall so unfairly off his lips, and turned slowly back around. He motioned me forward with his finger, and I walked down the steps through the sea of hockey players eager to escape the crazy captain's wrath.

"Oliver." I said, placing my duffle bag on the floor. Oliver looked apprehensive, as if there was something he felt he truly needed to say, but wasn't sure of the words. He bit his lip and for a second, I almost swore he was my Oliver.

"I'm benching you at next weeks game." Big surprise there. I would have argued but thought better of it. And here I was looking forward to getting my ass whooped by big scary hockey players.

"Fair enough." I began to say, before Oliver interrupted me.

"I'm scheduling a few more practices for you, though. I know you got hurt, but I won't let that be an excuse for poor behavior. You've been on this team for five years now, Bell. One hit to the head shouldn't throw all your skills to the wind."

More practices? My body screamed in protest.

"After dinner tonight, meet me here. We'll go over a few of the moves, let you get back into the swing of things."

"Alright." I replied. I grabbed my bag and turned to leave.

"Oh, and Bell." I stopped and turned to face Oliver. His face had gone from smooth to hard again.

"You have no business cohorsing with the likes of Higgs. He's a punk."

Ah, there was my cute-gone-cruel Captain. I nodded in response and then rushed up the stairs as fast as my cramped legs would allow. They burned in protest.

Basically, I felt like my whole body was crashing down, so it wasn't until I was laying in the warmth of my bubble bath that I realized that I was going to be alone with Oliver tonight. Extra practices. One on one practices.

I didn't know if I ought to be excited or terrified. In any other case, it wouldn't matter. Oliver and I, even before dating, were perfectly comfortable in each others presence. He was my Captain-I had to trust him. And while he wasn't always mindful of my femininity, he was always well mannered. He would have never yelled in my face about my poor flying skills after falling eighty feet in the air.

Would Oliver be hard on me? Would he yell at me more, curse at me, insult my 'pathetic' attempts? A person could only take so much discouragement. I sunk lower into the bubbles and closed my eyes, wishing for my old life back.

An hour of hot bubbles and a thick coax of coconut shampoo later, I felt fresh and clean as I headed to the library. I had a good sum of time before dinner and decided to feast myself on a few muggle novels.

As I paced the rows of fiction, I noticed Terrence sitting at one of the round couches in the middle of the sitting area. I smiled and began toward him.

"Hey." I said, plopping down on the cushion beside him. Startled, Terrence looked up, but smiled warmly when he recognized me.

"Kaitlyn."

"Terrence."

"What brings you here?" He asked.

I raised a brow. "Books."

He laughed and looked down at his hands. "Right. Books. Library. How'd practice go?"

"Terrible." I moaned. "I think Oliver is trying to make me quit. He was in my face all morning going on and on about how terrible my shots were, how slow I was skating. I don't see how he hasn't lost his voice by now."

Terrence grinned. "Sounds like you had fun. Don't sweat it, though. Its gonna take some getting used to. Its a brutal game, but you've made it this far. No point in turning back now."

"Oliver wants me to practice again, tonight. He almost seemed sincere before he-" I trailed off, remembering Oliver's demand that I keep away from Terrence.

"Before he...?"

Never being a good liar I caved. "He said you were a punk, and that I ought to stay clear of you."

Terrence laughed again. "Figures. You can ditch me if you want."

"No." I insisted. "Like I would listen to someone who just gave me the unwanted work out of a lifetime. Thanks, but no thanks. Besides, it will probably piss him off-and maybe he'll start ignoring me?"

Terrence shook his head. "We can only hope, Bell."

Terrence and I sat in the library talking the rest of the afternoon. I was beginning to adore our conversations. He wasn't at all the prickish boy I had expected him to be. Sure, he was never as disgusting as him team mates, but he was still a Slytherin nonetheless. But Terrence wasn't slimy at all.

"I'd ask you to join me for dinner, but I'm afraid it'd make a scene." I said in between laughs as we made our way down to the cafeteria. Terrence shrugged his shoulders.

"I should probably chill with the boys anyway. I can't have my reputation ruined by people seeing me with goody-two-shoes-Bell, now can I?"

Goody-two-shoes? Me? Hardly.

"Oliver might have your head if you did, anyway."

Terrence's face turned serious for a minute. "Don't think I'm afraid of that loser, alright?"

I blinked at the sudden change in attitude. Did someone lower the temperature?

"Oh, of course not. That's not what I was insinuating..."

"Good, 'cause I didn't want to have to prove a point or something."

Terrence looked stonily at me, as if daring Oliver to challenge him. I raised my hands in defense.

"Not at all. I'll see you tomorrow, Terrence."

"Yeah. See you."

There you go, my lovelies. I liked this chapter. Its a little short, but they should get longer. Also, yes, I notice that Katie seems to be pursued by quite a few guys-its just to show her charm. Every school has that one athlete girl that all the athletes are crushing on! In Hogwarts, it just so happens to be Kaitlyn Bell. :) And I honestly love Terrence, if you haven't figured out yet. He's gorgeous. Also, I am proud to say I am insanely driven by Degrassi: The Boiling Point. Yes, Degrassi is my fuel for writing the dramatic. I love the craziness and good-looking-ness. Anywho, hope you enjoyed! Chapter ten will be here soon!