A/N: Wow, been a while… Anyway, same spiel: visit thisbrokenheartedgirl here on FFnet and Katie_Bell_ and 0liverWood on Twitter for more great RPing like what this fic is derived from.

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Oliver awoke slowly in the Hogwarts hospital wing, instinctively emitting a low, plaintive chorus of pained moans.

As if in reply (and possibly due to the castle's rumoured enchantment of perfect timing), Katie Bell made her way past the plentiful empty beds, her hair slightly tousled from her brisk walk through the busy corridors after class.

"Hey… Feeling better, Oliver?"

"Mm? Nhmm… mhhm." He answered, his eyes blinking open groggily.

Katie didn't have much of an answer to that, so he cleared his throat and tried again.

"Ehm, what's… What am I doing here?"

As her eyebrows began to knit themselves together, she sighed and plunked down onto the bed next to his. "Well, you drank an antidote and then passed out…"

"Err…" He cleared his throat again. "What antidote would this be?"

"Oh, good." She smiled, actually very much relieved. "You don't remember?"

Oliver looked at her helplessly. "…Don't remember what now?"

"Nothing, Ol…" She quickly buried her attention and any wayward expressions in her school bag, digging through it for his assignments, which Angelina and Alicia had so very, very generously volunteered her to collect.

The momentary pause gave Oliver the opportunity to calculate and assess things, his countenance darkening the more the details didn't quite add up.

"Katie…" He began, getting rather worried. "How long have I been in here?"

She looked up, parchment successfully retrieved.

"Did I… err…" He tried to swallow the lump in his throat. "Miss the match?"

"Back to square one…" She muttered under her breath, then shook her head and sighed. "Just a day, Oliver, just a day."

"Aye?" He instantly brightened. "Good, nothing to worry about then!"

She instantly shoved his homework unceremoniously onto his lap.

"Thanks," He coughed, then gave her a genuinely appreciative look. "You didn't have to do that."

"It's alright." She shrugged and stood up. "But… I guess I should be going to practise now."

Oliver watched as she passed by the foot of his bed and headed back out the way she came in.

Maybe you could skip practise just this once, Bell.

Katie stopped suddenly before the hospital ward door and Oliver thought maybe she had read his thoughts (most of the boys in school generally agreed that all witches must be innate Legilimens, regardless what age they were), but she gave no inclination either way, and instead simply waved.

"See you later, Ol." She said and disappeared to rush up to the dorms before hurrying out to the pitch.

Oliver sat in resigned silence for what he figured was an appropriate length of time (which, in reality, only amounted to approximately three-and-a-half seconds) before summoning Madam Pomfrey.

Even in her utmost haste (driven, as always, by the desire above all else to heal well the sick and suffering), Oliver's words beat Poppy to the punch.

"I feel better; can't I go?" He asked, already swinging his legs out from under the blankets and over the side of the bed.

"I've been unable to properly diagnose you, Mr. Wood." She replied in her singsong voice that belied her disapproval. "I'll need more than a few answers from you…"

"Well, I'm sorry…" He shrugged, looking around for his trousers. "Nae, I don't remember what happened. I don't know what potion I took. And I don't know who gave it to me."

Madam Pomfrey crossed her arms and tapped her finger impatiently on her biceps brachii.

"Gryffindor's out there right now, without their captain." Oliver gesticulated emphatically in the air, in the direction of the Quidditch pitch. "They need me!"

"We don't know if the potion has run its course, or if it's still lingering–"

"With all due respect," He offered as respectfully as he could manage, despite being a somewhat-belligerent and hubristic 6th year at that moment, standing in nought but an undershirt and boxer shorts. "I certainly haven't noticed any 'lingering' effects and…"

And that's when Oliver Wood began to sway on his feet.

"And maybe I'll just lie down a bit longer…" He continued obediently, leaning heavily onto the foot of the bed and then walking himself very slowly back to where he could reclaim his recently-vacated position under the covers. Madam Pomfrey watched dutifully until he drifted off to sleep.