A/N: So update! Yay! I hope everyone enjoys this, I stayed up writing it when I should have been sleeping. Nothing like rolling into work on caffeine and 4-ish hours of sleep. See how much I love all of you? I also love it when people review! I'm sure most of you have figured that out by now. So here's the chapter. I wonder who can identify the book mentioned off the top of their head? (That means pre-google)

Disclaimer: If I owned anything useful, well it would still suck that my car broke down for good on the Interstate on my way home for Thanksgiving. Hooray for car shopping.

The Next Day

Oliver didn't see Katie the next day. He couldn't face her even if she hadn't heard a single word of his confession. So much for Gryffindor courage.

The day after that he only stayed long enough to put fresh flowers beside her bed. "This is the last time that I bring bleeding lilies and try to stuff them in this Merlin-forsaken vase." The torrent of angry words for the flowers didn't cease until they were wrangled into submission. He didn't notice that she smiled as he cursed the flowers and the vase he was trying to put them in. He practically ran out.

The day after that there was a Quidditch match. Oliver was completely angry with himself for giving up over 100 points to the Wasps. One hundred points didn't make them loose, Puddlemere's seeker, Sig Dacey, had a nice catch when the other seeker was out of place on the other end of the pitch, two hundred yards away from the correct altitude. The problem with this particular game is he saved as many goals as he didn't. Oliver Wood, Professional Quidditch Player, was better than a 50-50 average.

No one had said a word. Coach hadn't even made a comment about Oliver's all-time low in his career. Coach was, however, singing the praises of his seeker, for being in the right place at the right time. The media hadn't picked up on Oliver's performance, but the analysts would start to scrutinize it soon enough. Oliver hit the showers and was debating the merits of staying there until the world ended, when he realized he needed to get a grip; there are things he needs to do. He got hastily dressed and headed for the hospital, avoiding the wizarding paparazzi.

Oliver walked into Katie's room, nodding to her father, who was by the window counting cars passing on the muggle street below. Amelia was sitting next to the bed, reading aloud to the slumbering girl. Oliver could have sworn he saw Katie's hand move as her mother read the description of Colonel Brandon's swift departure from Marianne's sickbed. He was just overly tired from the Quidditch match, she hasn't moved on her own in over two months, why would she start now.

"Didn't you have a match today, son?" Bennett had learned something of Quidditch over the past few weeks, how can someone be near Oliver and not? Men and sports; Oliver and Quidditch; no further explanation needed.

Oliver flopped heavily in the chair next to the bed that was 'his.' "Yea, and I think a trained troll could have done as well as I did today actually."

Amelia had stopped her reading, "I'm sure it's not as bad as that Oliver. Katie always said that you made it look so easy. All the talent and hard work is worth something."

"If I had fallen off and had to go to the med bay, the reserve would have put in a better performance."

Bennett began to chuckle. "If you did that, you'd at least be in a comfortable hospital bed here instead of that chair. Perhaps you could get an adjoining room."

"Yeah, I promise I'll get some sleep tonight." Oliver directed his reply to Amelia; she had taken to mothering him since Katie was cursed. "I need to work on getting back up to a decent keeper." He smacked his head against the back of the chair. Realistically, there were starting keepers in the league that regularly saved less than the 50% threshold, but Oliver couldn't accept that.

Oliver heard, rather than saw Angelina walk into the room. "Hi, I'm here to take you… Oh, hello Oliver."

"Angelina" he greeted from his position with his eyes staring at the ceiling.

"I was just closing up the shop and decided to come by and see if the Bells would like me to take them home. But if you two aren't ready, Oliver would you mind?"

"No that's fine, I'll…"

Amelia cut Oliver off. "Actually, I'm tired and would like to take you up on you offer."

"Okay that's fine Mrs. Bell, night Oliver."

"Oliver dear, please do get some rest."

Oliver waived an errant acknowledgment, causing Bennett again chuckle at his expense. Angelina and the Bells left Oliver alone to sit with Katie. He leaned forward in his chair and looked at her face. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her hand move. He looked down and saw it tucked securely to her side. It must have been there before. Mrs. Bell was right I DO need some sleep. I'm seeing things.

He shook his head and stood. Smoothing her hair unnecessarily, he thought he saw her eyelids flutter. Oliver decided that he really needed that sleep and apparated to his apartment. He hit the bed fully dressed and stayed there all night and most of the following day.

The day after that he made it out of bed and was in practice, playing in the intra-team scrimmage, and having a not so boring time. The reserves were not holding it together well today. Oliver was concentrating so hard he barely noticed a bludger hurdling straight toward him. He instinctively caught it and realized he was not holding a bludger. The quaffle soared right past his shoulder and into the goal while he was examining the owl, causing the team to stop and take notice. Oliver Wood doesn't miss the quaffle.

Basil was not having a good day. He had to yet again deliver another letter to this barmy man on a broomstick, on this Merlin-forsaken pitch and try not to die in the process. He wasn't sure why these messages couldn't wait until everyone was on the ground and there were no men wielding bats trying to hit small round objects, not that Basil looked like a bludger. But being the strong, brave, confident owl that he was, Basil set about delivering the message that he was certain would be just as good if he delivered it later, when it was safe.

And unfortunately for Basil, the barmy man was holding him upside down. Oliver just landed and took out the note, dropping Basil absently onto the pitch turf. Poor Basil landed on his feathery head.

Oliver's eyes grew wide as he scanned the short note. Without a moment of hesitation, he threw his broom at Cliff and announced "I have to go." Basil just sat on the ground, completely disoriented, next to the tiny slip of parchment that had been dropped. Puddlemere's coach picked it up, but this time he read it aloud.


She's asking for you.

The entirety of the Puddlemere United Professional Quidditch team apparated to St. Mungos.

Oliver walked down the hall as fast as he could. If he had been paying attention, he would have noticed approximately eight times more junior and assistant healers than he'd ever seen before. They all watched him go down the hallway, careful not to run, but he felt that he needed a time-turner to get there five minutes ago.

Those assistant healers that thought he would turn back into a hippogriff when she woke were devastated.

Oliver passed one of the young assistant healers collecting galleons from quite a few other hospital staff. He'd just won the pool betting on how long it would take that Quidditch player to come in after the comatose patient awakened. He'd called this half of an hour, and was thrilled with his substantial pot.

Oliver didn't see any of this though; he was too focused on getting to Katie.

Oliver turned into her doorway and took in the scene. The normally stark white hospital room looked fit to host a luau thanks to all of the decorations the twins brought in over the weeks for Katie. He spotted a healer conferring with his assistant just inside the door. Mrs. Bell sat beside her daughter's bed, while her husband stood with his arms wrapped lovingly around her. Angelina and Alicia were perched on either side of the bed laughing at the twins. Fred and George were holding a miniature broomstick joust at the end of the bed with four inch long broomsticks. And in the center, watching all of the antics, was his Kate.

Propped up into a sitting position by so many fluffy pillows it was ridiculous, Katie was smiling and laughing. She looked for all the world like a queen holding court. But the only thing Oliver could think was she's awake.

He just stood in the doorway, the numerous emotions battling in him keeping him from stepping through the doorway. He couldn't make his legs move and break the spell. She's awake.