Disclaimer: Recognize it? Not mine.
Pretty Enough As It Is
Twelve hours later, that memory alone was enough to make him turn bright red.
Honestly, it wasn't a big deal. He'd done more awkward things in her presence, like accidentally grabbing an out-of-limits part of her anatomy when blindly trying to snatch the Quaffle away from her.
(She'd laughed hysterically while he mumbled an apology, thankful that the twins hadn't been looking. They would've probably spent the rest of practice squeezing his butt.)
Katie would always laugh at him in a harmless way. Maybe that was the reason she'd started to arrive about fifteen minutes late to practices while making up intentionally dumb excuses.
"I couldn't find my broom!" She kept her broom very safe in the locker rooms of the Quidditch pitch - that much he knew.
That wasn't the only pretext she'd used. "My alarm clock broke!" Oliver knew for a fact that Angelina was her alarm clock for morning practices.
Once, she'd showed up to an evening practice with an obviously fake cast on her arm. As if he didn't know Madam Pomfrey could fix broken bones in seconds!
"Katie," he'd said then, "if you want to leave the team, just tell me before I keep wasting my time."
"No, thanks. I'm actually having too much fun." She was beaming and Oliver couldn't understand her reasons.
She likes you, mate, George Weasley told him once. She's like the little boy pulling the little girl's braids because he doesn't know how else to get her attention.
Oh, she did get his attention. In fact, she was becoming increasingly difficult to handle. Why did he let her get away with it?
That particular morning, Katie had showed up to practice ten minutes late.
"I'm sorry, Oliver. I needed my beauty rest!"
Katie didn't care about her looks that much. Her hair was always unruly at dawn practices and she kept quiet when Alicia and Angelina discussed make-up.
For all response, he tried to give a bitter laugh. It came off as a snort.
"What, you don't believe me? You can ask Leanne. I even slept with cucumber slices on my eyes and yogurt on my face. Did you know muggle girls do that?"
"Why would they?" Katie should know - she was a proud muggleborn. Why was he even showing interest? Damn her for getting him sidetracked. But, but... yogurt and cucumber slices?
"Yogurt hydrates the skin and cucumbers get rid of the dark circles I get around my eyes because morning practices make me lose sleep." He knew she wasn't too serious, but her accusing tone made him realize that he'd had enough.
"Your skin is soft, your eyes are flawless and you're pretty enough as it is. Do you expect me to believe you were having a beauty rest, Katie?"
Yes. He'd said that. Twelve hours later, in the relative safety of the Common Room, he was still blushing.
Katie had only stared at him half-shocked, half-amused, as everyone else in the team laughed uncontrollably. He'd had to endure the twins calling him 'pretty' at practice and asking him if he wanted cucumbers and yogurt for breakfast
He hadn't seen them all day after that. Twelve hours later, Katie was doing homework nearby. Whenever he lifted his gaze from his strategy parchments, he was forced to relive the moment.
After a few minutes of this, their eyes met. He turned his face away as if they burned. What was wrong with him?
She must've taken the eye contact as an invitation, for no more than ten seconds later, he heard her voice next to him.
"O Captain! My Captain!" That nickname was a reference to muggle poetry, or so she'd said. He was certain she didn't even like poetry, but just thought that line made for a funny nickname.
"Hey, Katie. What's up?" He knew he was opening Pandora's box. Well, anything better than an awkward silence.
"Nothing much. I'm done with homework and I'm almost ready to go to bed. We don't have morning practice tomorrow, right? This time I can get my beauty rest in peace!" She finished with a giggle. Her words made him wonder.
"Wait. Did you actually do that thing with cucumbers and yogurt?"
"Don't be gullible, Oliver! I am pretty enough as it is."
As if he hadn't blushed enough, he felt his cheeks going red. Oliver normally kept it professional with his teammates, and he'd broken a personal rule by calling her pretty.
"I'm sorry, I just-"
"Are you apologizing for paying me a compliment?" In spite of his embarrassment, he smiled.
"It was out of place for me to do it. You're my teammate and..."
"No one ever calls me pretty, so it made my day. I would be terribly sad if you took it back."
"Really?"
"Oliver, girls love being called pretty!"
"No, I mean..." he realized, too late, what he was about to say. But he had to go on, choosing his words carefully. "Guys like you." Or he could just blurt something moronic like that.
And this is why you don't have a girlfriend, he heard Fred Weasley's voice in his mind.
"Well, it would be really cool if they said it to my face," she said sharply. He suddenly got the feeling that something had gone wrong.
"I guess."
She said nothing to his coy response. After a few seconds of silence, she stood up and left without saying goodnight.
Oliver was confused, for she was normally quite easygoing. She had been happy two minutes earlier. Why was she acting like that?
She likes you, mate.
Was that really an explanation? Was she expecting an 'I like you' instead of 'guys like you'? Was that it? He liked her, in a way, but he was three years older than her and her Captain!
Oliver was so irritated, he almost missed the twins calling at him from the other end of the Common Room.
"O Captain! My Captain! You look like you need a beauty rest!"
Notes: For Shot Put - Round 3, in the HPFC forums. I wanted to keep the serious tone from the previous two entries, but as soon as I read the optional prompt for the week, I knew this had to be written.
Thanks for reading!
-Karyn.
