Mid-Spring, 1997: Part Three

Oliver was quiet now, having said his part. He instead kept his gaze fixed on Katie, waiting for her reaction. Katie, for her part, had remained silent throughout his entire monologue. But now she contemplated him with a slight tilt of her head; he couldn't quite read the expression upon her face, which worried him.

"My mum is a big gossip, you know," She finally said, confusing Oliver. "Almost as big a gossip as Alicia, in fact. And the two of them spent plenty of time together over the past few months, or so I'm told." She paused here momentarily, considering her next words, "I remember you being there right after I woke up, and when you didn't return after all of the healers left, I asked mum about you being there. She told me she thought—well, she said it was Alicia's idea, but I know it was hers, too. Anyway, she said that you visited so much because you fancied me and regretted never telling me before we lost touch. I thought she was just being silly."

At this, Oliver opened his mouth to say something, but Katie continued on over any protests he may have had, "But of course that was mostly just because I didn't think that the boy I've been in love with since I was thirteen could ever feel the same way about me."

"What?" Was the only response Oliver could come up with to that, completely dumbfounded. That was definitely not what he'd been expecting her to say. Hoping, yes. But definitely not expecting. In fact, he was probably dreaming right now; he was sure to wake up any second now. Except Katie kept right on talking…

"I fancy you, too, Oliver," Katie said slowly, leaning forward a bit as she spoke. "Probably not quite as long as you've fancied me, though. I always respected you as a captain…but the way you pulled the team together and still tried to go for the Cup even though Harry was unconscious in the Hospital Wing—I'd say that was probably when my feelings for you started to change. You've always been rather brilliant, Oliver; as a captain and a person." She grinned slyly now, "It also doesn't hurt that you've got an incredibly sexy accent."

"So you like me because I'm Scottish and I play Quidditch?" Oliver asked, attempting and failing to wrap his head around things.

"Hardly," Katie scoffed. "Maybe that's why I noticed you at first, but I like you because you're Oliver."

"And you don't mind that I'm a bit older than you?" Oliver questioned, still unsure if the conversation he was currently happening was for real. Katie really fancied him?

"I'm seventeen," Katie reminded him, then she frowned. "No…actually, I'm eighteen now. I missed my birthday…" She shook her head slightly and her expression cleared. "And you're twenty one. That's hardly a ridiculous age gap. And even if it was, age is just a number. I mean, yeah, technically I'm still in school, but I should be done soon…probably. Then it really won't matter at all. Not that it ever mattered to me, except when I thought you could never possibly like me because I'm so much younger than you."

"So what you're telling me," Oliver began slowly, "Is that if we weren't both so stupid we could have been together ages ago?"

"No," Katie said shortly, and Oliver swore his heart skipped a beat at her clipped tone. "What I'm telling you is that we've got our whole future ahead of us. Who cares about where we've been? We can only go forward from here."

"Together?" Oliver proposed, squeezing Katie's hands once more as his expression turned hopeful.

"Together," Katie agreed, giving him a small smile.

"Well then, Ms. Bell," Oliver said suddenly, a grin spreading across his features. "I believe I have something important to ask you."

"And what would that be, Mr. Wood?" Katie replied playfully.

"Would you care to accompany me on a date…er…sometime in the hopefully-near future at some, as-of-yet undetermined, location?" Oliver asked.

"That sounds like a solid plan to me," Katie said, still smiling. "As for some indefinite time in the future, how does right now work for you?"

"Right now?" Oliver repeated.

"Well, you have the day off, don't you?" Katie asked. "And my parents won't be back for a little while at least. And I do have to go back to Hogwarts tomorrow…"

"And how would you propose we occupy our time?" Oliver questioned swiftly.

"Well everything about the two of us always comes back to one thing, doesn't it?" Katie said.

"Just one thing?" Oliver replied. "And what might that be?"

"Why, Quidditch, of course," Katie stated with another smile.

"Best thing in the world," Oliver declared. "After you, of course."

"Of course," Katie agreed, her smile widening. "Anyway, it's been quite a while since I've been on a broom."

"Or outside at all, I'd wager," Oliver cut in.

"They really need to start making open-air hospitals," Katie said decisively. "I'm sure that would have fixed me up in no time at all."

"It still wouldn't be the same as flying," Oliver said. "Nothing can beat that."

"Not a thing," Katie agreed. "So, what do you say? I could use some help from a professional like you if I want any chance of getting put back on the Gryffindor team when I go back to Hogwarts."

"Quidditch it is, then."

Several long hours later, Katie and Oliver descended to the ground once more, both breathless from the exhilaration a good game of Quidditch could cause. Katie had just stepped off her broom and was about to throw it over her shoulder, in preparation for the walk back to her house from the empty field they were currently in, when Oliver suddenly pulled her into his arms. Katie melted easily into his embrace, her head coming to rest against his chest as the hand still clutching her broom dropped limply to her side.

"I really did worry you wouldn't ever wake up again," Oliver whispered softly, and Katie could feel him resting his head against hers, "And even if you did, that you'd never be the same again."

Katie tightened her embrace. "Remember, only forward, Oliver. We have each other now."

Oliver pulled back slightly, forcing Katie to look up to meet his gaze.

"That we do," He agreed, dipping his head lower so that his lips met her in a light kiss.

Once they had broken apart, Katie ducked her head back into Oliver's chest and clutched him even tighter.

"I don't want to go back tomorrow," She whispered. "I can't remember what happened and…I'm afraid, Oliver. I don't want to get hurt again."

Oliver sighed deeply. "I can't promise you that everything will be fine, Katie. But you won't know unless you try. Besides," Katie could hear the grin in his voice, even if she couldn't see it, "It's your last chance to win the Quidditch Cup. I'd say that's incentive enough."

"It really is always about Quidditch, isn't it?" Katie couldn't help the grin that was starting to creep across her own face.

"Always," Oliver intoned seriously, and Katie knew he was only partially joking with her now. "And just think of it…I only won the Cup once, and you've already done it twice. Why not go for a third win to hold over my head forever?"

"I like the sound of that," Katie said thoughtfully. "But that's only if I get back on the team."

"You were brilliant today," Oliver stated, leaving no room for argument. "If Potter doesn't let you back on the team, I'm going to come straight to Hogwarts to wring his scrawny little neck."

"You're going to kill the Boy-Who-Lived?" Katie asked, humor evident in her tone.

"Only if he can't see reason," Oliver assured her.

"You really are a Quidditch fanatic," Katie said, shaking her head as she pulled out of his embrace. She slipped her hand into his and shouldered her broom, tugging his arm lightly. "Come on, let's head back. I'm starving."