Disclaimer: yadda yadda yadda, I don't own HP yadda yadda yadda…

August 28, 6 o'clock

This must be the stupidest thing I have ever heard. Who honestly keeps a diary at age 16? Who I ask you? Katie Bell does. Well, I guess I'll write "my teenage thoughts" in this notebook to entertain my parents…

August 30, noon

I think that I'm going to kill that freaking-kilt-wearing-Scottish-son-of-a-bitch-captain-of-mine Mr. Oliver Wood. Once again he graced my morning by sending me yet another letter. Here, for your enjoyment…

Dear Katie,
As always, I hope that you are well and remember that Quidditch season isn't that far away. If we are going to win the cup this year, we need to be in top physical condition. I hope that you have been practicing and cutting off the junk food-

I would like to point out that at this instant I'm eating a bag of chips. Salt and vinegar, my favorite. Hey, I watch my weight. I've been in the same 5 pound ratio for the past 3 years, I figure I'm good, besides I swim 15 laps a day in our pool. As far as I'm concerned, I'm golden.

-I'll see you in a couple of days.
Oliver Wood

P.S. hope you have a chance to look over the plays I sent you.

Hey, I love Quidditch as much as the next athlete but in the off season I like to chill. I start getting in shape 2 months before the season starts. September-ish, not during my summer vacation. Sure, I fly everyday, just like everyone else…right? Someone tell me I'm not the only one in the sky on hot summer days. My God, Wood is wearing off on me…

August 31, 8 o'clock pm

Well, mum is running around crazy trying to get all my stuff, which I told her five million times is already packed in my trunk. At the moment she's trying to find my wand which is tucked behind my right ear. Hehehe, lets see if she can spot it…

9:05

Well, she found it…drat!

September 1st, 9:10

So I wake up at 8 to find…Oliver Wood two inches from my face starring at me. I dunno how or why he was there. Well, maybe why. Oh, and he was reading my "Diary".

"So know I'm a 'freaking-kilt-wearing-Scottish-son-of-a-bitch-captain'?" he asked.

I threw the covers off my bed to reveal red plaid pajama shorts and a tee that says PATRIOTS on the front and Tirade and number 9 on the back. The number 1 chaser in America I might add…

"I didn't know you still liked the Pats." He says.

"Oliver Wood!"

I think my mum heard me because she started to scream something about waking up the neighborhood. Oh well.

"Yes Katie?" he was smiling. Smiling can you believe it? I wake up to him starring at me from two inches away, then he criticizes my favorite team, I used to live in the US (glad he pays attention), and then he smiles. Damn him.

"What are you doing here?"

"Came to make sure you were ready on time" like he did it everyday. "You've been practicing I hope"

"Of course I have" I walked over to my luckily-though-not-really-walk-in-closet and come out fully clothed. Oliver is always over here atleast once a week but never, never this early in the morning

"Aren't you gonna make yourself more decent?".

I looked down at my clothes. I was wearing a shirt that said PARTIOTS on it, a pair of jeans, and a pair of black all star converse, I was in the middle of putting my hair in a loose bun.

"What's wrong with it?" I asked skeptically.

"Well, number 1: your shirt has a Quidditch team on it"

"Smarty, the Patriots are also an American football team, so there" I walked over to the door, taking my dairy out of his hands on my way, "I suppose you're staying for breakfast?"

"Of course," he says walking over next to me and following my downstairs to have breakfast.

So lets recap:
1. I get woken up by none other than my captain who was two inches from my face

2. My captain criticized my clothes and showed no common sense in American football

3. My captain is now being a pill and reading over my shoulder

4. And yes, my captain is a freaking-kilt-wearing-Scottish-son-of-a-bitch, so there Oliver

12:02

As usual, we made on the Hogwarts Express, and as usual I'm sitting with Oliver, Fred and George, maybe Alicia and Angelina will come and save me.

George read that particular line over my shoulder. "Hey"

I shrugged my shoulders, "True enough, if you don't like it, don't read it"

"What did she say about you?" Oliver asked from my right.

"That maybe Alicia will save her from us"

"Better than me," he said as I shot him a look, "Apparently I'm a freaking-kilt-wearing-Scottish-son-of-a-bitch-captain"

The twins looked across from me in mock insult. "Katie," Fred had a hand over his heart and George pretended to faint. And so I promptly threw you, diary, at him, sorry but it was the only thing in reach. Of course George and Fred started to read it and gasped at the "naughty trick I un-rightly pulled on my dear sweet mother", or so how they put it.

Eh, no worries, they mean well, sometimes I think Oliver does too…strange hu?


please no flames! first time doing a dairy sort of story so please be kind. words of wisdom are greatly accepted.