a/n—This story is a short sequel/companion to my earlier Katie/Oliver story The Answer to Our Lives. It's an idea that I've had in the back of my mind ever since that story ended, especially after dislike was expressed over Katie's ultimate career choices. I'm just glad I finally took the time to actually write it down after nearly two years. It is going to be posted in two parts, and I'm almost certain the second half will be ready within the week. For now, enjoy!
The All-Star Game
Mid-Winter, 2019
When Oliver Wood began playing Quidditch as a small child, it was because he thought it was fun; there was nothing more exciting than flying around on a broom.
When Oliver began attending Hogwarts, he was overjoyed to finally get the chance to be on an actual team playing the game he long ago fell in love with; no one was ever more disappointed to learn First Years were not allowed on the House team.
When Oliver was named captain of the Gryffindor team in his Fifth Year, he became determined to end the winning streak Slytherin had for the Quidditch cup or die trying; it took a few years and more than a few dawn practices, but that Spring day in 1994 was one of the happiest of his life.
When Oliver was signed as a reserve to Puddlemere United, he was ecstatic to be getting the chance to make a career out of playing the game he loved; becoming a starter two years later only fueled his desire to improve his abilities.
When Oliver was getting ready to begin his twenty-fifth season playing with Puddlemere United, he realized he was getting too old to be a professional Quidditch player for much longer; he was still good...but maybe his reflexes weren't quite as spectacular as they used to be and besides, no one else had an adult daughter playing in the League.
When did he get so old?
Well, in between dawn practices and injuries and endless days on the road and getting married and raising two children and winning games and losing games and every other little thing that had happened over the past twenty-four seasons, time was bound to have passed in some fashion. But that was okay, because he was pretty positive that he'd made the most of all those years. In fact, looking back on his extensive Quidditch career, Oliver could honestly say that he had accomplished every single goal he set for himself.
As a reserve, he wanted to be named to the starting team when the current Keeper retired. Done.
He then wanted to be a serious contender for Rookie of Year, and maybe even win. Done and done.
He wanted to win at least three League Championships over the course of his career. Done. Done. Done. Plus five more times.
He wanted to eventually be named Captain. Done, for over ten years now.
He wanted the choice of when he'd had enough, rather than being forced out by something like a career-ending injury. Well, now was his chance. Because no one anywhere was suggesting that he wasn't still on top of his game (though maybe no longer at the top).
But, before he called it quits on a long career of playing the game he loved, he wanted one season to play against his daughter; one season to play the game he loved with one of the people he loved the most.
Late Winter, 2019
"Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen of the press," Philbert Deverill, long-time manager of Puddlemere United began the preseason press conference just as he always did. "As you can see from our press release earlier today, we at Puddlemere have opted to retain our core line-up for the coming year after a very successful season last year. Changes to the reserve team were minor, and can be found in the roster contained within that press release."
He paused to inhale deeply. He could feel the anticipation in the room and he loved it.
"As you all know," He continued, "Our press release also stated that we would be making several major announcements today. And so I believe I will simply cut to the chase now."
Oh yes, the anticipation was thick and their quills were quivering with excitement. Perfect.
"Our highly decorated Keeper, Oliver Wood, has made the personal decision that this year, his twenty-fifth season with the Puddlemere Organization, will be his last. He will be retiring from professional Quidditch at the conclusion of the upcoming season."
Questions erupted at this pronouncement. Philbert silently took in the barrage for a brief moment before raising a hand for quiet, which fell almost instantly.
"Oliver has stated that he has enjoyed his time with Puddlemere and the British League immensely, and that he hopes his final season will be a great reflection of all of the time he has dedicated to the world's greatest game over the years."
Philbert watched with glee as all of the journalists scribbled away while he spoke. They had no idea what else was to come…
"He also said that he looks forward to the chance to continue his involvement with the League in the years to come, but now as a spectator as his daughter begins what he believes will be a promising Quidditch career of her own."
At this, pandemonium erupted, just as Philbert had known it would. Excellent. At this rate, Puddlemere was going to make the front page of every single major publication in Britain, and not just the Sports section of the Prophet. Philbert was clearly not the only person who didn't know that Oliver Wood had a daughter.
He again had to hold up a hand for quiet, but this time had to resort to actually asking for it when the excitement grew to be too much to contain.
"If I could have silence, ladies and gentlemen," Philbert stated loudly. "I will be taking questions at the end of my statement, but I'm not quite there yet."
Almost immediately, the room was silent again. Good, because he had one last announcement to make.
"Naturally, we at Puddlemere are very saddened to be losing such a talented player. And so we have decided to use this entire season as an ongoing celebration of Oliver and the time he has spent with us. It will culminate this October in a singularly unique event sponsored in conjunction with the British Quidditch League: A special All-Star game featuring the top players in the League from the past twenty-plus years Oliver has been with Puddlemere. We will be contacting prospective players in the coming weeks to seek their involvement, and the final roster will be announced by the end of July. Now...does anyone have any questions for me?"
Late Winter, 2019
"Oh look, Oliver," Katie Wood née Bell said in an offhand manner the next morning over breakfast, "You've made the front page of the paper."
Oliver looked up from his porridge with a confused expression on his face. "Because of the roster announcement yesterday?"
"You're adorably clueless," Katie informed her husband. "You always have been," She smiled sweetly at him. "Deverill also announced your retirement yesterday; I'd imagine the intention was to drum up more press than any of the other teams."
"I suppose that would be big news," Oliver commented thoughtfully.
"You 'suppose'?" Katie questioned, her eyes now scanning the article. "We're talking about you ending your 'highly decorated' participation in the 'world's greatest game' and you only suppose that's big news?"
"Well I hardly expect the Prophet to agree with me," Oliver stated with a shrug. "They've never been known to recognize something good even if it's right in front of their faces, let alone something that has to do with something as amazing as Quidditch."
"The Daily Prophet has gotten better since the war ended, you know. It has been more than twenty years now, Oliver, dear."
Oliver chose to ignore his wife's not-so-subtle jibe and continued thoughtfully, "I'm actually really surprised my retirement made the front page."
"Oh, well that's because it didn't," Katie commented lightly, her gaze still on the newspaper. "Not exactly, anyway."
"What?" Oliver was officially confused now.
"Beverill also let slip that your daughter will be playing in the League this year. Speculation is running rampant now, because no one knew you had a daughter."
"And that is exactly why I still don't trust the Prophet to pay Quidditch the respect it's due."
Katie grinned. "You'll like this article, though. This reporter seems to think you've done nothing but keep secrets from your adoring fans for more than twenty years. Or, as she says: 'Upon learning about Wood's alleged secret daughter, this reporter cannot help but question what else Wood is hiding from us. For example, who is the mother of Wood's child? Is he married? Why has he refused to publicly acknowledge any sort of family until now?'"
"Refused to—" Oliver spluttered. "Who wrote that?"
Katie grinned again. "One Ginny Potter. Yes, I dare say she is very outraged to be 'kept in the dark' about something so 'humanizing for an international celebrity' for so long."
Oliver grinned now, too. "And I daresay she's probably just still bitter about her team getting Ron as a Keeper instead of me at Roxie's last birthday party. My team crushed hers because he's so out of practice."
"This bit about the All-Star Game is interesting, though," Katie commented thoughtfully as she continued to peruse the morning paper. "It will be fascinating to see the Dream Teams that Puddlemere and the League put together for it…"
Early Spring, 2019
"How was your last first day of training, dear?" Katie asked, looking up from all of the papers she had spread out across the table when Oliver exited the nearby fireplace.
"All of this rain and snow melting isn't good for kick-off—the ground's too soft," Oliver grumbled, walking over to Katie and kissing her cheek in greeting.
Katie laughed. "You say that every spring."
"Every spring it's true," Oliver insisted, making a beeline for the couch that was set against the wall opposite of the study's fireplace. He collapsed onto it with a muffled groan. "Also, I'm pretty sure every single bone in my body is protesting being publicly acknowledged as old. I don't think I've ever been this sore after a training session before in my life."
"I'm almost done with this paperwork," Katie informed her husband slyly. "Perhaps when I'm finished, a little massage might help make you feel better…"
"You're as brilliant as ever, Mrs. Wood."
"Well, I do try, Mr. Wood."
Mid-Spring, 2019
"Mum!"
Katie heard her son's shout before she saw him. She turned just in time for his small body to collide with hers in the middle of the crowded platform. Katie immediately returned the hug; there was far too much time in between the Christmas and Easter holidays, in her opinion.
"I've missed you, too, Darren," Katie said as they separated from their hug. Then she took a moment to actually observe her son. "You've grown again since Christmas, haven't you?"
Darren nodded rapidly, a proud smile on his face. "The house elves said they can't let the hem out on my school robes again, so I'll probably need new ones this summer."
"I always knew you were more trouble than you're worth," Katie told him jokingly.
"I take after dad," Darren replied mock-seriously.
"Speaking of dad, let's head home and see if we've beat him there."
"I think we will," Darren said cheekily. "Haven't you heard? He's basically an old man now."
"Be that as it may, I do believe that old man mentioned something to me last night about some new maneuvers he wants to show you while you're home."
Darren's eyes lit up immediately.
"What are you waiting for? Let's go!"
Late Spring, 2019
"Hi, Honey, I'm home!" Oliver called out as he entered the house through the front door, overnight bag slung over his shoulder. "Katie?"
"In the kitchen!" came the reply from the other side of the house.
With a shake of his head, Oliver dropped his bag just inside the door before making his way toward the kitchen.
Without fail, over the past nineteen years, every time Oliver returned home from an extended away match that Katie didn't attend, she welcomed him home with a home-cooked meal. It had been a thought in the back of his mind for a few years, but with his retirement now imminent he could easily admit to himself that he was rather looking forward to getting to eat dinner with his beautiful wife every night. Hell, maybe he'd even make the most of being a retiree and finally learn how to cook—having promised to do so for years—so that he could make dinner for her sometimes.
"I missed you, love," Oliver declared, wrapping his arms around Katie from behind and kissing her neck just below her right ear as she stood in front of the stove. Whatever she was stirring smelled delicious; almost as delicious as Katie herself, in fact.
"I missed you, too," Katie replied instantly, turning her head back to peck him briefly on the cheek. "Give me ten more minutes and dinner will be ready."
"No rush," Oliver said easily, his arms still wrapped firmly around her middle. "I'm more than happy right here."
Early Summer, 2019
"I almost forgot to ask, how are your parents?" Oliver asked as he changed into his pajamas one night while Katie sat in their bed reading a book. "Today was the day you were going over there for lunch, right?"
"Yes, they're good. I told them we'd come over for dinner next week sometime once Darren is home for the summer," Katie replied, lowering her book. "Also, mum wants me to remind you again that retirement doesn't mean you can stop getting her tickets to Quidditch matches. Personally, I'm starting to think her obsession with you all these years has really just been a cover for her obsession with Quidditch."
"Nothing wrong with that," Oliver stated firmly, "Quidditch is the healthy kind of obsession to have."
"I don't care how many years pass, Wood," Katie shot back, only half-playfully, "I'm never going to agree that all of those dawn practices were a good idea, let alone healthy. The morning air is only good for you if you aren't sleep-deprived and in danger of falling off your broom."
"We won the Quidditch Cup, though, didn't we?" Oliver shot back, crawling into bed beside her. "I'd say those extra morning practices played a part in that."
"Speaking of the Quidditch Cup," Katie began thoughtfully, shutting her book completely now and placing it on her bedside table before turning to face Oliver. "Do you remember how we once agreed that I could hold it over your head forever that I won three Quidditch Cups at Hogwarts while you only won one?"
"I do believe that's over-ruled by my eight League Championships to your one," Oliver responded instantly.
"Ahem," Katie pointed at herself, "One-hundred percent success rate with that."
Oliver narrowed his eyes suspiciously at his wife. "Is this one of those arguments that I'm supposed to let you win if I know what's good for me?"
"Surprisingly, potentially not," Katie admitted. "Because…how would you feel about a rematch of sorts? One final game to determine once and for all who gets eternal bragging rights."
"Done," Oliver said immediately, not wasting any time to think over his answer. "Is this going to be one versus one?"
"No, definitely seven versus seven," Katie replied. "I was thinking…maybe our final showdown can be the All-Star Game?"
"The All-Star…" Oliver trailed off in confusion, then suddenly his face lit up in understanding. "They asked you?! When? They sent the letters out months ago, why is this the first I'm hearing about it? Are you going to do it? Well?!"
"Breathe, Oliver," Katie reminded him with a laugh. "Yes, they asked me. Or, rather, Ms. Katie Bell received a letter several months ago delivered to her parents' house—apparently her last known address—requesting her participation in a 'once-in-a-lifetime Quidditch event.' But really, I've only known since about five hours ago when I got home and read it, since mum forgot that she's been meaning to pass it along to me for ages now."
Oliver's eyes were positively shining with anticipation. "It's not too late, is it? Can you still say you'll do it? You do want to do it, right? Please say yes, Katie."
"Luckily, the response deadline is the first of July, so I do have until next week to decide," Katie replied blithely.
"Katie…"
"Bragging rights for all eternity?"
"Still agreed."
"Then I'm in."