For the Pairing War Competition and the Het vs. Slash Competition (both have Kallie as the pairing, HvS prompt of twilight).

I slammed into the boy's locker rooms, startling Diggory as he changed his shirt by his locker. Somewhere, deep inside the changing rooms, the showers were running. All the others had changed quickly and hurried up to make sure Harry was alright. All but one.

Stupid, stupid Oliver Wood.

"Uh..Bell? Did you need something?" Diggory asked as he yanked his shirt down over his rock hard abs. Not that I even noticed them at the time. I was too focused on Oliver to give much more than a rat's arse about the Hufflepuff Seeker.

"Is he back there?" My voice was distant, polite, and Cedric was too stunned to do any more then just nod and point in the direction of the showers. I started towards them, then stopped and looked pointedly at Diggory.

"Er, right. I'll just go then," he mumbled awkwardly, grabbing his bag and hurrying out. The door shut with a heavy thud, and then we were alone.

I looked over at the showers. Merlin, the boy must be a mess to be spending this long under the water. Even I didn't take this long, and I was a girl who loved showers.

Sighing, I set off. No one else was going to do it, and the faster I could get him to stop drowning himself, the faster I could get out of these wet clothes. It was still pouring rain down in the twilit sky outside.

"OLIVER!" I stopped outside the shower curtain, hands on hips.

There was no reply.

"OLIVER WOOD!"

Silence.

"OLIVER DOUGAL WOOD, IF YOU DON'T TURN THAT WATER OFF IN FIVE SECONDS I'M COMING IN!"

The water shut off, and slowly, the curtain slid open.

Oliver was sitting on the ground of the shower, his arms bent around his knees like a child's, and his outer Quidditch Robe puddled on the ground behind him. Other than that, he hadn't managed to get out of his uniform, and it sat plastered to his skin, his thin shirt showing off the rock hard abs beneath it.

Not that I was noticing, of course. Because that would be weird.

"Oliver. Stop the pity party. Get up, get dressed, and come up to the Hospital Wing with me. You should be there."

He just shrugged pitifully, and I could feel a ball of anger coiling in my gut. The stupid boy had an unconscious team member, and all he could think about was Quidditch?!

"Oliver...," I slid down to the wet ground of the shower, scooting close to him and resting a concerned hand on his arm. "Come on. It's not too late to win the Quidditch Cup. You know that it isn't. I'm sure you've already figured out the stats in your head, but if Ravenclaw beats Hufflepuff and Slytherin beats Ravenclaw, we could play in the finals. And if we get to the finals, we can win this thing. You know it's true," I added, nudging him. He wasn't moving, just sitting like a statue, and I was getting a little worried. Had I been talking to a dead person the entire time?

"Ollie, please say something," I whispered, reverting to the nickname I had called him when we were younger. It was a low blow, but I could usually get him to respond to that.

He sighed, before freeing his arm and putting it around me, crushing me against him. "I just feel so bad, you know? This has been my dream since my first year on the team. And maybe I've been a little obsessive with winning the Cup, but I want it so bad, and not just for me. I want it for you, and Ange and Leesh, and I want it for those damn Weasley twins and little Harry. It's all of us, and the fact that I can't give that to you guys makes me feel... worthless."

I hugged him closer, not even caring that he was getting me soaked to the bone. "Oh, Ollie, please. We all love you so much. Sure, you're a bit maniacal with your practices sometimes, but we know you're the best Captain we could ever ask to have. And I'm not just saying that because you've been my best friend since I was 4, I'm being honest. You're the best thing that's every happened to us. Even if we don't win the Cup, you'll still mean the world to me."

I could feel him chuckle a bit, and then my head slipped off his shoulder a bit when he sighed. "I just wished I could bring the win to my Puddlemere tryouts. I want to be on their team so bad, Katie... Sometimes I think that if I don't get in, I'm going to off myself," he whispered, and I sat up in shock. I looked at him, really looked at him, to see if he was joking.

He didn't look like he was.

And so, I did the only thing a best friend could do: I slapped him hard across the face.

"Don't you ever even dare to try and off yourself, or I will follow you, drag you back to the world of the living and lock you in a room, wandless, with the Weasley twins!" I hissed, before yanking away from him and dragging the bemused Oliver up to his feet.

"Now, come on. We're going to go make sure Harry's fine. And then, we're going to practice the hardest we ever have before."