Written in response to the One Day Competition by alohomora080.
Disclaimer: The characters and world of Harry Potter belong to JKR, all I own is the plot of this story; no copyright infringement intended.

14|October|1990

It was drizzling steadily with furious indigo raindrops cast across the ceiling of the Great Hall, and below the hustle and bustle of the chattering students, Katie could distinguish faint echoes of the crying wind. The scene around her was that of any other evening, yet Katie felt that something was amiss. Around her everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves; and certainly, the food was delicious – but there was a thought nagging in the back of her mind; though she was unable to identify it, or why it was there.

Her first month at Hogwarts had been incredibly interesting and she had found it relatively easy to make new friends during her first few weeks. Her classes had proved to be fascinating, and she especially enjoyed Transfiguration, though Professor McGonagall had recognized her natural talent and thus was encouraging and pushing her to do more. Katie did not mind the pressure, though.

And it was because she had been so happy in adapting to her new school that she could not understand why she was feeling the way she was. What was it that made her feel incomplete, as if something was yet to be discovered? She felt a stranger to the turmoil around her, taking part in the conversations yet her mind wandering distant, to a place she did not understand nor recognize.

"Katie? Are you listening?" asked Fred from across the table.

"Sorry –I was just thinking. What was it you said?" she replied, looking up at the twin.

"We were wondering whether you would like to –" "study with us in the library after dinner," finished George.

The girl reflected for a moment. She did not have much to do, they had a History of Magic paper due in on Wednesday and a Potions exam on Friday, but it was only Monday and she had hoped to spend her evening reading in the common room. Still, she could just as easily read in the library, so why not go with her friends?

"All right. I have to talk to Professor Anima about our Defence Against the Dark Arts research project, so I'll meet you there."

"Great!" grinned the twins together.

The clock chimed seven and Katie had only read a chapter in the two hours they had been studying at the library. It wasn't that she was a lazy student, but every time her eyes had tried to take in the words, that's all they ever were. Just words. No pictures forming in her mind; no longing to turn the page; nothing.

"Katie, you've been staring at that page for the past fifteen minutes?" said Fred from across the table. "You sure you're alright?"

"Yes, I'm fine; just a bit tired. I think I'll go get some fresh air," she replied, sighing.

"Good, we'll see you tomorrow then."

She had walked half-heartedly around the corridors, and she suddenly found herself in front of the Quidditch pitch, where the Gryffindor team was in the middle of practise. Cloaks of red and gold were glittering in the last dying rays of the sun; whizzing around the shining hoops as they danced in the sky.

Katie was awestruck. She gazed longingly at the broomsticks as they flashed from side to side, their flight swift.

She had seen Quidditch before, and her cousins back home had showed her how to mount a broom; but she had never seen it so clearly in front of her; such grace as the players zoomed around against the burning colours of dusk.

There was a curious elegance in their synchronized movement, as if every motion had been agreed on beforehand.

At that moment, Katie realized that Quidditch was something she was going to have to try. She was aware of the fact that first years weren't allowed to have brooms, but she would do her best to train in the holidays and get on the team in second year.

Her subjects were interesting, she was an excellent student with a natural academic talent; but the purpose that she had been looking for had just been uncovered. And within her, she felt the burning desire to start something new.

Oliver had not had a very good day.

His classes had not gone as well as he would have liked (he had forgotten to do the Herbology assignment and had hence been given detention for Wednesday afternoon); and the Quidditch captain, Peter Pearson, had forced them to stay on the pitch until nine, unsatisfied with the progress they were making.

"Flying well is not enough to win the Cup; we need excellence. Wood! Spinnet! Johnson! Let's try the triangle manoeuvre again…"

Practice had gone by in the same manner as usual, and though Oliver tried to give it all he could, in the back of his mind the thought of the unfinished Potions essay awaiting him in his dormitory lingered, preventing him from concentrating fully on the game. Which had meant that he had received more shouts from Peter than what was usual. In fact, the Quidditch Captain had a talk with him after practice.

"Listen Wood, you're a good Keeper and have the determination to be great, but I just need you to concentrate when we're playing, okay? I don't know what you have on your mind, but learn to ignore it. You're one of the best on the team, I have high hopes for you – don't let them go to waste by slacking."

And he knew that Peter was right. He knew that he should be more applied; in fact, his own mind was forcing him to adopt the determined attitude that was needed, and he was used to pushing himself until he had lost consciousness of what he was doing and his body moved instinctually without hesitation and his thoughts had become the game. He knew how badly Peter wanted to win the Quidditch Cup this year, and how horribly humiliating last year's defeat in the semi-finals had been. As a matter of fact, Oliver himself had felt the pressure building up and knew that there was something to be done about it – he, too, felt a fervent desire to win.

As he walked out of the changing rooms and towards the castle, he suddenly spotted a figure sitting unmoving on the grass in the darkness.

"Are you alright?" he whispered into the shadows, walking towards it until he could discern its face in the faint moonlight – it was a first-year girl. He thought to remember her from the sorting ceremony… Her legs had trembled as she had gone up to the Sorting Hat; her eyes lit up when it named her a Gryffindor… In fact, if he remembered correctly, he had offered a seat next to him and given her a welcoming smile.

"Yes, I'm fine; I was just watching you all fly," she replied. Her eyes, a minute ago so blank, were suddenly looking at him with a remarkable intensity; dark pools of brown that seemed to draw everything in.

"Well, it's a bit late for a first-year to be out here; if any of the professors find you they'll put you in detention… I'll walk you up to the castle."

Katie nodded, smiling while getting up. She took The Story of Telga Timbert from where it had laid next to her, and started to make her way up the slope.

She knew Oliver by sight. He had been the first to congratulate her admission to Gryffindor in the Great Hall, and she had sat next to him sometimes during meals, as Angelina and Alicia, two Gryffindor girls whom Katie spent a lot of time with, knew him quite well.

"So you're interested in Quidditch, then?" he asked, smiling.

"Very much. I'm not a very good flyer, but I hope to be as soon as I get my own broom," she explained.

"If you had the patience to watch us practice, I'm sure you'll be great; in fact, although you do need a bit of natural talent, Quidditch is not all that difficult. Once you get to know your broom and how to fly it, it becomes automatic; you don't have to think anymore. And the only secret to that is practice and hard work."

It was true. Oliver had a family tradition of Keepers and Quidditch ran through is blood, yet he was highly aware of the fact that nothing would have come of his talent had he not given up innumerable hours and put in all his effort to improve.

They continued to talk a bit about Quidditch, and in a few minutes had arrived in front of the Fat Lady. "Peruvian Vipertooth", spoke Oliver, and the portrait flung open.

The common room was deserted; it was already rather late and therefore quite usual for most students to have gone to bed.

Katie was the first to say goodbye. "Well, I must be off, I have to start an essay on the Soap Blizzard of 1378. Thank you for accompanying me back."

Oliver smiled. "It was nice talking to you. Tell you what, one of these days we can go down the Quidditch pitch after lunch and I'll teach you a few tricks."

The first-year's eyes lit up.

"Would you really?"

He laughed. "Of course, why not? Good night, Katie."

That night she had fallen asleep with a smile on her face.

Hope you enjoyed that! I will be putting up more chapters as soon as possible, as I said, this story will haven seven parts, all taking place on the 14th of October but of different years... All constructive criticism is welcome and any comments you may have! :) Thanks for reading!