Chapter One

Disclaimer: I'm genuinely not sure if these are still a thing, but I definitely don't own Harry Potter. I'm just borrowing JK Rowling's characters… She can have them back when she treats them better, 'ta.

Oliver dragged his kit bag into his bedroom, bumping his shoulder against the doorframe. He looked at the clothes strewn over the floor, all in various shade of Puddlemere blue, before letting out a long shuddering sigh. He hadn't been back home for over a month, and he silently cursed himself for leaving the place in a mess. The last thing he wanted to do after a long tour was to clean.

He rummaged through the front pocket of the bag, tipping it over and sending his wand skidding under his bed. Oliver groaned, getting on all fours to fish it out. The back of his hand brushed up against the worn surface of a shoe box before he pulled his wand out. His eyebrows knitted together as he grabbed the box, smiling as he uncapped it.

The sight of several photographs greeted him, topped off with a thin film of dust but still moving, endlessly moving. Crossing his legs, Oliver pulled them out, spreading them out on the carpet. Countless shots of his parents waved at him while his brothers zoomed in and out of frame on their brooms. Oliver laughed, watching Andrew fly straight into James over and over again. As he pulled out the last picture, he tore his eyes away from his mother's face, puzzled as to why the edges were frayed.

As he turned them over, he let out a breath he hadn't realised he was holding. The faces of his Golden Team smiled back at him - Fred and George having a mock fight with their Beater's bats, Harry trying to fix his hair after Angelina messed it up, Alicia laughing inaudibly at someone out of the frame, and Katie smiling at the camera like a bemused mother.

Oliver fingered the edges of the photograph, rubbing the tacky spots where tape used to hold it up above his headboard at school. Standing up uneasily, he gave a mindless wave of his wand to clean up, keeping his eyes on the Gryffindors in the picture. He walked out of his room, leaving it on the kitchen counter. He'd put it up next to the picture of the year's World Cup line-up later.

x

Benjy walked over to the window, grabbing the copy of The Daily Prophet from a rather disgruntled owl. He pushed three Sickles into its pouch, offering it a dish of seeds before taking his seat at the counter. "Oliver, you'd better get out of bed if you want any breakfast!" He called out, unfolding the paper to skim through the headlines.

"We have one week of leave, and you choose to start it by waking up early for breakfast?" Oliver groaned from his bedroom. "Shove off, Williams, you big prat."

Benjy laughed hoarsely, taking a long gulp of coffee. Turning back to the paper, he couldn't help but grimace. Hogwarts Student Cursed On Hogsmeade Trip always made for a nice spot of light reading in the morning. The article went on to detail what had happened to the student; something about a cursed necklace and a glove. Benjy opened his mouth to make a joke about girls and jewellery as Oliver ambled out of his room before stopping short as his eyes met the picture at the bottom of the page.

"She looks familiar, doesn't she, Wood?" He tapped the picture with his knuckles and passed the paper to Oliver.

Through bleary eyes, Oliver frowned at the picture of the girl lying in a St Mungo's hospital bed. His fingers fumbled as he shoved the mug of tea aside, making to grab the photograph he had left on the counter. "That's Bell - Katie Bell. She used to be my centre Chaser on the team." He replied.

Katie had always been the baby of the team, at least, in his head. He remembered meeting her on her first day after she had crashed onto the seat next to him at the table in the Great Hall. She was a bit of a whirlwind, always running here and there with the biggest, most innocent-looking eyes he had ever seen. Of course, she lost her innocence pretty quickly once the twins got a hold of her. Still, Oliver had always felt like it was up to him to protect her. She was a powerhouse on the pitch, but a safety hazard to herself and everyone around her on solid ground.

"Let me see that." He muttered, grabbing the paper from Benjy's hands. A sudden jolt of anger sparked in his mind, retribution for not having been there to save her. There had been reasons why he didn't allow his team to go to Hogsmeade alone, and this would definitely had made the list.

Oliver put the paper down, not quite daring to look at Benjy. "I have to write some letters. Save me some pancakes."

x

Dear Angelina,

It's Oliver. Remember me? Your old maniac Captain. Sorry I haven't been in touch lately. I've been busy with Quidditch, as you might've guessed. (Can you guess who made it on Witch Weekly's Top Ten Most Eligible Bachelors? Haha.)

Anyways, I'm writing to ask if you know which room Katie's in at Mungo's. I heard she was cursed. Thought I should drop in to see her. For old time's sake.

Oliver

x

Dear Oliver,

The next time you decide to send me an owl at half past 9 in the morning - don't. And you? An eligible bachelor? Don't make me laugh. Good luck to any girl who wants to pry you away from your broomstick. It's a wonder it hasn't been stuck to your bum yet.

About Katie - she's in the special ward on the fourth floor of Mungo's. You might need to get permission from her parents to visit her though. They're still in shock.

She's probably not going to wake up from her coma any time soon though.

Angie

x

Oliver had woken up a sleeping Katie Bell before. In fact, he had done it countless times. He reckoned that if there were an award for doing so, he would've won it back in seventh. But as he sat next to the metal bed in St Mungo's, he found himself at a loss for what to do.

He rested his elbows on the side of the bed, watching her face for even the slightest flicker of movement. Occasionally, Katie would let out a quiet whimper and toss her head. As if she were fighting some monster that only she could see.

The Healers had told him that she had been unconscious for three days. Three days fighting in her own personal hell. Oliver remembered blundering down the steps to the Gryffindor common room on nights where he couldn't sleep only to see Katie pacing up and down - the aftermath of nightmares that plagued her. He remembered her tired eyes and crooked smiles as she tried to push the demons out of her head.

Now, it seemed, they were ramming down every last defence she had set up, and they were showing her no mercy.

"Stay strong, Bell," Oliver muttered, pulling the blanket over her shoulders absent-mindedly, "I promise they can't get you out here."

x

The Healers whispered every time Oliver went to visit her. It was a routine for him now, to visit her after Quidditch practice. How could he not? She was part of his Golden Team. The fast little bugger on the pitch that he could almost never keep up with.

Occasionally, he'd cross paths with Angelina or the twins, and they'd chat at her bedside while keeping one eye on her. They had made it a point, Oliver figured, to never leave Katie alone for too long.

She had been the mother figure of the group. The one who gave advice when they failed a test or had their heart broken. Katie was the one that balanced out Angelina's fits of rage when Malfoy crossed her, the one that innocently slipped Canary Creams to second years when the twins couldn't.

Most importantly, she was the one that pulled him out of the shower. When they had lost to Hufflepuff, he had sat in the locker room shower, wondering (admittedly for the better part of an hour) if all hope had been lost. Before he could begin thinking of a resignation letter, there she was. Tugging on his hands to get him to look up from the floor, listening to his shamefully self-centered rant about how he had failed everyone.

Oliver had never seen her strength falter before. He supposed, just like the rest of the team had, that she was always going to be the strong one. And without her, it was as if a part of themselves had gone missing.

At least, that's what it felt like to him.