Thanks to Nora for beta-ing!
Katie has a crush on Oliver, but he's too wrapped up in Quidditch to notice.
Notice Me
Another day, another Quidditch practice. Oliver is a good captain, but he works us hard. Maybe that's why he's a good captain. He has no pity for weakness, no remorse for the hell he puts us through. He forces us to put all we've got into every practice, and that makes a huge difference when it comes time for the match.
This season, we are winning. We've got a great team, and we are going to win the House Cup, no matter what it takes.
Oliver is obsessed. It's all he thinks about, all he cares about at the moment. Everything- school, girls, his health, everything- comes second to that stupid Cup.
Even me.
Yes, that's right. I care about Oliver Wood. Stupid, Quidditch-obsessed, Oliver Wood. I care so much that sometimes I can't sleep at night. I want him in a way that I haven't wanted any boy until now.
See, I'm not one of those ditzy teenage girls. I don't care about boys or shopping, or crap like that. But I care about Oliver. When I am around him, my stomach does that stupid fluttery-thing, and when he looks me in the eyes, I just want to melt. The longer this goes on, the more I become… well, not obsessed exactly. Not the way he his with the Cup. I just want to be with him.
It's really annoying, actually.
"Heads up!"
I realize I haven't been paying attention as the quaffle comes flying at my head. I catch it, but just barely. Alicia giggles, and Oliver frowns.
"What are you thinking about, Katie?" Alica asks as I toss her the ball.
"Nothing important," I say.
Alicia passes the ball to Angelina, who gets it past Oliver in what would be an impressive score if this were a game, and if Oliver were the opposing keeper and not our own.
Alicia flies closer to me. "I know you better than that."
I give in. "Him," I say, and dart my eyes toward Oliver. She knows what I mean.
"Ohh," Alicia says softly. "Why don't you ask him out then?"
"Are you crazy? He doesn't even notice me! All he cares about is the stupid Cup!" I say quietly enough so that the rest of the team can't hear.
"Bell! Spinnet! The Quidditch pitch isn't the place for idle gossip!" Oliver yells from the rings.
"You're wrong. He does notice you," Alicia says with a wry smile.
I roll my eyes and fly away to start the drill again. Oliver passes me the Quaffle, which I pass to Alicia, which she passes to Angelina, which she throws through the center hoop just below Oliver's reach. All the while, the twins are trying to hit us with the bludgers, on Oliver's orders, and Harry is practicing dives at the other end of the field.
Alicia's words float around my brain, making concentration on the practice difficult. The sad fact is that Oliver only sees me as one of his chasers. He is too hung up on Quidditch to notice me as a girl.
Practice runs late, like it always does. When Oliver finally lets us go, we all trudge tiredly to the changing rooms. I stay in the shower until long after the others have left, enjoying the cool water on my Quidditch-strained muscles.
When I finally step out and get dressed, I don't expect anyone to be around, but there is light streaming from beneath the door of the small office adjacent to the changing room.
"Hello?" I call, tentatively pushing the door open.
"Katie?" Oliver's voice answers.
I push the door open, and sure enough, there's Oliver, writing new plays on the chalkboard.
"Why are you still here?" he asks.
"I was enjoying my shower," I say. "You know, you don't need to make new plays. We've got plenty to work on before the game."
"No, we're missing something," he says.
"What?" I ask, exasperated. "Haven't we covered every possible angle, offense and defense yet?"
"I feel like I'm forgetting something though," he says.
"Trust me, Oliver, when it comes to Quidditch, you've got it all covered. If you feel like you're missing something, try looking at the rest of your life!" I yell at him.
I've been getting so frustrated. Oliver has neglected his friends, his schoolwork, and his emotional well-being for this. I want him to stop, and more importantly, I want him to see what I do.
"What are you talking about, Katie?" Oliver is oblivious as ever.
"Me! You're missing me!" I cry, and I run out of the office, tired and frustrated.
---
I hope that he will follow me, but he doesn't. I go to my dorm and bury my face in my pillow, afraid that at any moment my emotions will get the better of me and I'll burst out crying. Eventually I fall into a fitful sleep, and the next morning at breakfast I am rather miserable.
"Katie? Are you all right?" Alicia asks, concerned.
I look at her blankly for a moment, then burst out with, "He doesn't know I exist!" I slam my head down against the table, and stay hunched over like that until Angelina grabs my shoulder and forces me up.
"Look at him," Angelina says. She gestures to the other end of the Gryffindor table, where Oliver is sitting with Fred and George. He's looking back at me. His blushes, and he turns quickly back to his breakfast.
---
Practice that night is tense. There is something between Oliver and me, and everyone knows it except for Oliver himself. I find myself staring at him, wondering what the hell to do, instead of watching the quaffle like I'm supposed to.
Which would explain why I am suddenly laying on the ground, winded, with a sharp pain in my side, the quaffle next to me and the offending bludger racing off.
Then Oliver is at my side. He looks worried.
"Katie?"
I force myself up onto my elbows. "Sorry."
"What are you sorry about? You're the one who got hit!" Oliver says, glaring at the beaters, who were supposed to be keeping the bludgers away from us.
"I wasn't paying attention," I admit.
Oliver helps me up and looks deep into my eyes. He has these gorgeous dark brown eyes, a perfectly shaped nose, and lips that look soft and kissable. I can't take it anymore. I stand up on my tip-toes and place a kiss on his lips.
He looks shocked, and for a moment no one says anything. His cheeks flush pink, and he tries to smile. Eventually Oliver steps away, and we resume practice. He doesn't say one word about the kiss.
---
I am the last one out of the showers again, and once again, Oliver is staying up late to work on plays. I try to slip past the open door of the office without him noticing.
"Katie, is that you?"
I sigh. "Yeah."
Oliver appears in the doorway. "I'm sorry," he says.
"About what?" I ask.
"Um… you know… on the pitch tonight…" He looks so embarrassed.
"It's all right," I say. I start to walk away, then turn back suddenly. "Actually, it's not all right. You, Oliver Wood, are all I want, and most of the time you don't even notice I exist!"
Oliver looks shocked at this confession, but soon recovers. He holds out a hand to me, and I reluctantly take it. He pulls me into a hug.
"I do notice you, Katie," he says.
I am temporarily stunned by this action. He pulls away to look at me. He brushes a strand of sandy-blonde hair out of my face, then kisses me. His lips are soft, and his embrace is comforting. I melt into him, finally content.
"So we're all right?" Oliver asks afterward.
"Yeah," I say. "We're all right."