A/N: For Emily. Merry Christmas.
"Look at you."
Oliver turns, a smile on his lips at the sound of the familiar voice. Katie Bell leans against the changing room door, grinning back at him.
"Oliver Wood, Quidditch god," she says, pushing herself up and moving forward, a sway in her hips. "International celebrity. Earning gold doing something he'd do for free."
"Some blokes have all the luck," he agrees with a laugh.
She stops, standing mere inches from him. Oliver loves how relaxed she is around him. Even old friends sometimes get flustered around him, as though he's no longer the same old Gryffindor with a manic passion. "So, Oliver, tell me. How's it feel to have everything you could ever want?"
"Oh, I don't have everything yet."
"Really? What's missing then? Golden toilet seat? A statue tribute to your glory?" she teases.
He shakes his head, fighting a smile. "You, actually."
At this, Katie looks genuinely taken aback. She steps away, eyes wide. "Me?"
"Yup. That's all I'm missing."
For a moment, she's silent. Oliver is sure he's ruined the moment somehow. But then her smile is back in place, and he relaxes.
"Well," she says at last. "I think we should change that."