A/N: I decided to leave you guys with something before I left for my holiday. I won't be able to update for a week because I won't be around! I'm vacationing, gurlies. But I didn't want to up and runaway with nothing for you guys to mull over to I wrote this and now, voila, it's here. Short and sweet! Hope you enjoy and check back in a week! I don't abandon stories. Keep on R+Rin' cause it always makes my day.

Disclaimer: What's the point in having this?

First Loss

Wood had been acting dodgy ever since Halloween.

Katie remembered quite clearly waking up alone. Angelina, who had been sleeping next to her, rolled over to find Katie in Wood's sleeping bag and though clearly curious, remained silent. Katie was back on speaking terms with him but whenever Katie mustered enough nerve to ask him why he'd kissed her, he'd just disappear. She was starting to think it had been a fluke. Maybe he'd tripped…

So by Thursday, things were looking bleak.

With the first Quidditch match around the corner, the weather had become absolutely hazardous to fly in. Unfortunately, games weren't called off for such trifling matters like torrential rain and tornado-like winds. Wood had insisted on holding three practices a week, whether or not Sirius Black had tried to murder Harry or not. Madam Hooch oversaw all Gryffindor practices and with the first game just days away, Wood had become fanatical.

Katie had been lucky to corner him at all.

"Are we practicing tomorrow?" The common room had pretty much cleared out and when Katie spoke, Wood nearly jumped a foot. He had been concentrating at making the circles on his paper move, planning out the plays for Saturday.

"What kind of question is that, Bell?" Wood answered off-handedly.

"We'll get whomped in this kind of weather," she pointed out. It was thunder storming outside.

"We'll get whomped on Saturday anyway," he said. He narrowed his eyes at the paper and began muttering to himself. Katie, unable to contain herself any longer, reached out a hand and grabbed his arm. He looked up in confusion, as if seeing her for the first time in a while. He made a face at her before turning back to his sheets.

"No," Katie snapped. She grabbed the papers out from under his hands and tucked them beneath her seat.

"Bell, this isn't the best time…"

"I know you've been avoiding me, Oliver. We need to talk eventually," she interrupted.

"We don't have anything to talk about," he said as naturally as possible.

Katie didn't understand why he looked so put off all of a sudden but she was determined to find out why.

"You know perfectly well that we do have something to talk about and I'd appreciate it if you didn't treat me like a nitwit," Katie said.

"Bell…" His voice had taken on that familiar let-sleeping-dogs-lie kind of tone, the edgy one that meant STOP!

Unfortunately, Katie was never one to back down from Wood: "Why did you kiss me?"

Her question hung uncomfortably in the air for about a second.

"I can't believe you're still hung up on that stupid, little thing. It wasn't even a kiss, Bell," he said irately.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Katie asked, batting away the hurt.

"It was a bloody mistake. I don't understand why you have to walk around dredging it up whenever you can. I was an idiot, all right? I don't even know what insanity drove me to try. Lucky for the both of us, Alicia knocked sense into the whole situation when she interrupted!" He ranted.

"Oliver--"

"It's simple science, really, Bell. You were there. I was there. You're a girl. I'm a boy. I had an itch--"

"An itch?"

Katie had been numb by the time the last part of his rambling had come bursting forth. An itch? She couldn't even describe the pain blossoming inside her chest and the sinking feeling of horror exploding in her stomach when he gave her an excuse to burst.

"You are such a prat, Oliver Wood," she ground out furiously.

"Just like a girl to take something so minimal as the upheaval of the century…" He was still going on. The nerve!

"You are such a selfish, little prat. I can't believe you. I honestly thought you were made of better stuff. An itch! If you'd just get your head out of the mud for one bloody second of the day, maybe you'd understand why I'd take this a little more seriously than you think it should be. For Merlin's sake, all you can ever think about is Quidditch! Quidditch, Quidditch, Quidditch… Six bloody years I've put up with your stupid obsession, but I'm tired of being so damned invisible. You can take your itch and go straight to hell!"

Katie leapt up from her chair and sprinted across the common room to the staircase winding up to the girls' dormitories. She'd die before she let him see how much he'd just hurt her. No, she wouldn't cry. She ran into the Seventh Years room and shut the door behind her. The rest of her roommates were already asleep. She quickly undressed, tiptoed to her bed, and slid in, her heart cracking every step of the way. She didn't think she could hurt anymore than she did in that moment.

It wasn't even a kiss… that stupid, little thing… a bloody mistake! …something so minimal. I was an idiot. I had an itch.

The words swam around her head and her entire body ached from pushing back the tears. She fell asleep crying softly, not wanting to wake the other girls in her misery.

Wood's mood didn't improve by the next day.

"We're not playing Slytherin!"

He had just spent an entire practice with Katie ignoring him and now had to break out more bad news. Flint had complained that Malfoy's arm just wasn't up to the challenge, and even though everyone knew it was a lie, there was no proving it. Hufflepuff had already been rotated into the schedule.

His entire plan was falling to pieces.

The Gryffindor players remained cheerful about their prospects for the next day but Wood already had a terrible foreboding that the game wouldn't go well. All he had left was Quidditch, and even that was going wrong.

He had tried to catch Katie alone and apologized the second he did. She accepted in bland acquiescence and then turned away, leaving behind a very stunned Wood. His mouth tasted like ashes as an unnatural sense of defeat overcame him. He never lost at anything, he was damned good at what he did, and Quidditch had always seemed so bloody magnificent. It suddenly lost its glimmer underneath the current circumstances. The team change, the blasted weather, the rift between him and Katie all added up to a massive hemorrhage of troubles.

Wood worked the team into the ground at their last training session but nothing helped. He felt as angry and frustrated as ever. The fact that even Quidditch had lost its appeal made him even more furious. Maybe, just maybe, Quidditch had been fun because he'd had someone to share it with. But now that someone was gone because of something stupid he'd managed in a matter of minutes. He just didn't know how he could fix it.

All he knew was that he had never been in closer contact with Katie, and she had never seemed so far away.

The rain was pouring and the winds were howling the next morning.

The entire team looked grim as they swallowed what little breakfast they could manage and headed out for the field. They changed into their scarlet robes and gathered around Wood for a quick pep talk before the match started. Wood, not in the mood for any conversation, merely shook his head and eyed his team in grim determination.

The game didn't even matter to him anymore.

The teams were nearly blown off the pitch by the force of the winds whirling past them.

Cedric Diggory and Wood shook hands and the teams took off at the sound of Madam Hooch's whistle. Lee Jordan's commentary was drowned out by the thunderstorm but Wood watched as Angelina scored once and Alicia twice. A Hufflepuff Chaser closed in on him and Wood expertly blocked the scoring attempt and tossed the Quaffle back to Alicia. She made an excellent pass to Katie, who neatly shot it through one of the hoops at Hufflepuff's end.

The Quaffle was tossed to Hufflepuff and Katie intercepted it midair. She swerved and flipped on her broom as a raging Bludger was sent over her head. She darted past the Beaters and tucked in another ten points for Gryffindor.

Wood felt his entire body numb and the roaring in his ears faded into a whisper. He just didn't care anymore. He didn't care about the rain or the thunder. He didn't care about the rows and rows of screaming students. He didn't care about the bloody game. All he wanted was for Katie to smile at him again and tell him that it'd be okay. It was so incredibly stupid, but he couldn't shake it. He'd been a complete bastard to her and he deserved it, but he never knew how much it mattered. It was the cost of pride.

Wood called a time-out and the Gryffindor team went sloshing down into the mud after their Captain.

Harry was the last one down.

"What's the score?" Potter shouted.

"We're fifty points up, but unless we get the Snitch soon, we'll be playing into the night," Wood answered, unusually flat.

He just wanted the game to end. He wanted this over. He wanted to sort things out with Katie.

"I've got no chance with these on," Harry said, annoyed at his glasses as he flicked them around.

Hermione appeared out of nowhere and cast an Impervius charm on Potter's glasses.

"Okay, team, let's go for it!" Wood said hoarsely as seven brooms kicked off the ground and disappeared into the air.

Wood was certain Potter would finish the match quickly now. His friend, Hermione, had given him the ability to see in this damnable weather. Wood suddenly caught sight of Diggory streaking across the field in a frenzy as Harry hung in midair, seemingly stunned.

"Harry, behind you!" He bellowed across the field.

Potter wheeled around in midair, took one look at Diggory, and whipped his Nimbus forward to chase the Snitch.

Wood watched, breath abated, lungs clenched, as Potter tore across the field. Suddenly, a chill swept through Wood's entire body as he looked down into a sea of Dementors. It was only seconds, but through the rain Wood saw Potter slump over on his broom and fall off, five hundred feet above the ground. Diggory shouted in triumph seconds later as his fingers closed around the Snitch, ending the game.

Dumbledore came flying down the stands, Patronuses scattering across the pitch, as Wood and the rest of the Quidditch players went zooming downwards around Potter.

"Is he alive?"

"What happened?"

"Take him to the hospital wing."

Potter was alive and well, just unconscious.

Gryffindor had lost by a hundred.

Katie waited in the hospital wing with the rest of the Gryffindor team for Harry to come about.

They only had a few minutes to tell Harry that they'd lost and that his Nimbus had been completely annihilated by the Whomping Willow before Madam Pomfrey came flying in, scattering them about, and ordering them out so she could tend to her patients.

Katie followed the rest of the team halfway to the Tower before she stopped in mid-stride and told them she forgot her equipment in the locker room. She hadn't really, but she figured Wood was still trying to drown himself in the showers so she went after him. He must've suffered a terrible blow after the loss. He had wanted that Cup so badly and now the chances were practically nonexistent. She couldn't help feel a little lost herself. She'd wanted that Cup almost as badly as Wood had and now everything had gone terribly wrong.

She walked into the locker room quietly, listening for Oliver but there was nothing but silence. A sudden thud of a locker slamming shut made her jump but warned her that Wood was still around and not in a very pleasant mood.

She found him sitting alone on a bench: washed, dried, and changed.

He looked up at her briefly before turning away and repositioning himself into his defeated slump.

Katie rested her broom against the bench and sat down next to him.

They both stared at the ground, lost in their own thoughts, and highly aware of each other's presence. It felt comforting to know one another was there. Just sitting in silence with Katie gave Oliver peace of mind. He looked at her briefly and her blue eyes were full of understanding.

"Oh, Oliver," Katie murmured. With that, muddy and soaked gear still on, she snuck her arms around him and hugged him from behind. She couldn't help crying; even though she felt like a complete brat, she couldn't help it. She'd never felt so dejected and he looked so very miserable, sitting there alone and crushed.

"I know h-how much the match meant to you," Katie stammered, blinking back tears.

She felt him turn around and hug her back. He lifted her off the bench and onto his lap, pushing her soggy hair off her worried face.

"You've just ruined another good shirt," Wood said jokingly. She had indeed smeared mud and rainwater all over his clean clothes.

She managed a shaky laugh and smiled. She wiped away her tears furiously, embarrassed already.

"It's okay. We'll be fine. We'll win that Cup," Katie said in gritty determination, her voice still rough with crying.

"Of course we will, Bell," he said softly.

Because when she said something, he always believed her.