Disclaimer: It's all Jo's.

Author's Notes: Part two! Mmm... I'm predicting another part for this. So stick around. And review while you're at it.

Alisa

Observer

Every person has their own special personality trait. A quirk, to say.

Some people bite their nails when they're nervous. Other people might doodle on whatever is nearest when they're bored. Others might have an odd snort they make whenever they laugh too much. And others still might actually pay attention in History of Magic.

Oliver Wood possessed none of these quirks.

No, his quirk was even more enlightening and educational. People who noticed his quirk also tended to describe it as "completely creepy. I just looked over there and he was staring at me. How odd is Oliver Wood?"

But Oliver's quirk was not staring at people. It was watching them; observing them; studying them. He liked to see what the people of the common room were up to.

He rather liked this quirk, he would say. It kept him updated on the Weasley twins, two people you couldn't afford not to be updated on. It kept him informed of the goings-on of Hogwarts. And most importantly, it kept him acutely aware of the status of each of his Quidditch players.

Tonight it was fairly easy to spot his team members. Harry Potter, the ruddy best Seeker in the entire school, seemed to be studying in front of the fire with two of his mates. The Weasley twins—his Beaters, and excellent at that—were clearly pestering two-thirds of his Chasers, Angelina Johnson and Alicia Spinnet, who, from the looks of it, were attempting to finish off some assignment (and failing horridly, he noted). Katie Bell, the third of his Chasers, was working, from what it looked like, on her History of Magic only two lopsided tables from where he was sitting. The last member of his Quidditch team—himself, of course—was spending his time engaging in his favorite quirk.

Tonight he was watching Katie Bell. A nice girl, he thought, and a ruddy excellent Chaser at that. Her left hoop shot, and the ways she pulls off a Reverse Pass—bleeding brilliant.

Oliver shook his head. He had a habit of doing that—whenever he thought of Katie Bell he automatically thought of Quidditch. He had also taken to watching her at night sometimes, if only to rid himself of that habit. He didn't like to think of her in a Quidditch-only mindset. She was his friend, after all, not only a Quidditch player (albeit an amazing one).

So as Oliver folded his arms across his chest and settled his gaze on Katie, he told himself he would steer clear of Quidditch thoughts for the night (he shuddered at the thought). Instead, he would make a mental list of all the things he liked about Katie Bell that did not pertain to Quidditch.

He stared at Katie for some time—fifteen minutes, maybe—when he realized he hadn't added a single thing to his list. Not a thing. Certainly he wasn't only friends with Katie because she played Quidditch?

Oliver shook his head. Of course not. There were many things he liked about Katie, he just wasn't concentrating enough. That was one thing, though, he noted. He liked the fact that he could just look at (not observe, not study) Katie Bell and not actually think anything. Just stare at her.

And her hair. He liked to stare at her hair. It was long and shiny and held in a pony, and Oliver decided it would be very soft if he was to touch it. Yes, he liked Katie's hair as well.

And while he was at it, Oliver noticed how lovely her eyes were. He wasn't even quite sure what color they were, but he knew it didn't matter because they were lovely eyes anyway. But knowing the color would make them all the more lovely, he concluded, and decided to look very carefully the next time he spoke to Katie.

Oliver watched as Katie scribbled something out on her parchment and reached for a new roll. Her second this evening. Surely her assignment wasn't that long? But as Katie let out a short burst of laughter, Oliver realized she couldn't be working on History of Magic; no one ever laughed at History of Magic.

Which made Oliver realize another thing he liked about Katie—her laugh. It was bubbly like a fountain and made her shoulders shake and her head bob and her eyes squeeze shut. Oliver tried to rub away the little goosebumps that prickled his skin from the inside out and made him shiver pleasurably. Yes, he most certainly liked Katie's laughter, and the goosebumps that came with it.

And her shape. She wasn't like Angelina, who was tall and well-built and suited for the Chaser position. She wasn't like Alicia, with petite limbs and a shapely body. She was just… Katie. Strong arms, skinny, stick-y legs, a tummy she complained about but didn't have… they all seemed so suited to her, so… Katie-ish. Oliver decided that he liked her Katie-ish-ness. It was nice. It made her pretty.

That sudden thought hit Oliver like a Bludger to the head. Katie, pretty? Did he really think Katie was pretty?

Yes, he admitted, amused. He did think Katie (her hair, her eyes, her skinny legs, all of it) was pretty. And her laugh. It made her especially pretty.

Oliver shook off his sudden realization as Katie leaned back and read her paper with eager (pretty) eyes. She smiled (Oliver noticed how much he liked that too, it reminded him of her laugh), set her parchment down, and dug in her bag. It seemed she couldn't find whatever she was looking for as she had sighed and marched up to her dormitory.

Oliver was thinking about how Katie liked ketchup on her eggs (and wondering when she'd get back) when he noticed Fred wander over to her table. The Weasley picked up her parchment, read it (he made an 'o' with his mouth at the beginning), cast a glance around the room, and settled in her chair. He took her quill, scribbled something near the bottom, and left, smirking. Oliver was just wondering with himself if he ought to go and see what Fred had written when he noticed Katie walking purposefully back to her table.

She dropped a roll of parchment down, flopped into her chair, and opened her textbook. Once she had prepared her quill to write, she noticed something. She looked up, searched the common room with her eyes, and found him.

She stared at him with a faint smile on her face, as if she was seeing him but not quite seeing him.

Oliver decided he liked that about Katie too.