Written for the HP Potions Competition (amortentia), The Greenhouses Completion (Mandrake), The Quidditch Category Competition (Comets and Cleansweeps), and The Philosopher's Stone Competition (Quidditch).
Katie Bell loved Quidditch ever since she was a little girl. She loved flying. She loved the amazing sensation of winning the Quidditch cup.
One might think playing in the same team as your all-time crush might be a great opportunity to hang out with him and get him to ask you out.
Wrong.
"And I was thinking that if you cut in on the left flank, you can score while Carlos blocks Ginny Weasley on the right. The Holyhead Harpies' more vulnerable flank is the left," Oliver only stops talking to sip his butterbeer. "Maybe if Carl blocks Alicia Spinnet instead and Anthony takes on Ginny? Funny how it happens? Four of us ended up in professional Quidditch. Anyway, if the Beaters try to –
"Oliver, dear, please stop talking about Quidditch and take an interest in this lovely lady you brought over," Mrs. Wood said. Oliver's ears turned pink. He ate a spoonful of stew. Katie blushed a bit too. Mrs. Wood was right. He did talk about Quidditch too much. That's probably why they weren't so close, but still, he was Oliver.
"Mum," he said. "Anyway, the Beaters can take care of their-
"Oliver!" Mrs. Wood snapped. "Just because the girl's a Quidditch player, it doesn't mean you can impose your obsession onto her!" Oliver groaned.
Katie wanted to laugh. Oliver always seems so in control of the team. She's never seen him so embarrassed. She was clueless to why he asked her to come over after Puddlemere's training session today. She smiled at the bickering mother and son.
"It's fine, Mrs. Wood," Katie said, sipping her Butterbeer. "Really. I'm his teammate." The look on Mrs. Wood's face softened.
"I'm sorry, dear. Oliver just tends to obsess over Quidditch too much," the woman said with a smile
*H*P*H*P*H*P*
"Sorry about my mother. She's… sensitive," Oliver said. Katie laughed. They walked around the Wood garden. Oliver ran his hand through his hair nervously. "But I think she's right. Does the team ever talk about me behind my back, calling my obsessive?"
"Of course not!" Katie exclaimed, shaking her head. "They'd never do that. Seriously, Oliver?"
"But it annoys you doesn't it?" Yes.
"No."
"But you've thought about it, right?"
"Oliver, shut up for a minute please."
"Answer my question."
"Oliver!"
"Alright."
They walked in silence. Katie pondered over the thought that there was just a few inches between them.
"Katie?"
"Uh huh?"
"Can I ask you something?"
"Shoot."
"Am I really that obsessive?" Katie stopped walking. Oliver did too.
"Honestly, Oliver," she mumbled. "You're not obsessive. You just ask stupid questions. I wouldn't be here if you were annoying, would I?"
"So if I kissed you," Oliver began, nervously smiling.
"Yes?" Katie smiled back.
"You wouldn't come after me, hitting my head with a broom? The broom would brake I think. My mom says I have a hard head. Oh shoot I'm talking about Quidditch again," he rambled.
"Oh shut up," Katie said, smiling. She put her arms around his neck and kissed him.
Their lips felt like they were made for each other, and when they broke apart, both still smiling, Katie said, "Now, tell me about your tactics for the game against the Harpies."