A/N: I'm back! After you read this chapter, I'd like to request that you read the little note I've left at the end. It's really, really important to me :)

This goes out to ceubren, who made an account just to leave me a signed review. Hi to all my faithful reviewers, particularly my first-time reviewers, and thank you all! Enjoy!

Chapter 18 - Time for Discussion

Kaite woke up with a headache. That had been one heck of a dream. First there was Quidditch, and then dresses, and a party... Birch was causing trouble, and Alicia was in it, and Wilda and Gwen were mad at one another... and the worst was when Oliver almost kissed her, and then dismissed her...

"Wait."

She sat up in her bed, disoriented. Except it wasn't her bed at all - it was Oliver's. Looking around, she saw Oliver's things: his trophies, his photographs. She looked down at her clothes, which weren't hers at all, but Oliver's.

She exhaled loudly, unsure of how to feel. This could not be happening. She'd hesitated when Oliver leaned in (nah, he probably wasn't going to. She just imagined it, right?) and he'd backed off completely. And when Oliver left her to sleep in his bed, she didn't dare object. Then she'd tormented herself over what to do until fatigue set in and finally knocked her out.

A quick glance at the clock informed her it was early: seven in the morning. The plus side was that no one would be looking for her back at the Harpies complex because they had the rest of the week off. And everything taken into account, she was probably the least of her teammates' concerns...

Getting out of bed, she wondered if Oliver was up, as well. She stepped into the bathroom, but saw no indication that he had been there that morning. He was always impossibly neat. After quickly freshening up, she walked over to his bedroom door and turned the knob.

"Ol?" she called tentatively, voice hoarse. "You up?"

No one answered.

Katie walked over to his sofa, only to find his blanket neatly folded over the pillow he'd used. Had he left?

She checked his study, turned into his kitchen and dining room - Oliver was nowhere to be found. But on the table, he'd left her a steaming plate of bacon, bangers and mash for breakfast. Beside it floated a note, and a familiar-looking fluffy stress ball.

Dear Katie,

Gone out for a run, and to check up on Fairfax. Didn't want to wake you, so I left you some breakfast. Hope the Warming Charm hasn't worn off. I've also asked Security to modify the Portkey you gave me last time. That's for in case you wanted to go home. I mean, you don't have to, but I'd understand.

And I'm sorry. About last night.

Oliver

Katie wanted to pull her hair out. Just the address was enough for her to know he was hurt, or at least upset - he'd called her Katie. And this - he actually acknowledged something happened last night. Her heart thudded hard. So it wasn't in her head! But why was he apologizing? Last night was... "Well," she breathed.

And here he was, giving her an out. Typical Oliver. She picked at her food miserably. What was even happening?

Katie let out a groan, only to shut up promptly when she heard the front door open. She froze. She heard footsteps - light, long, deliberate - make their way to the bedroom. The footsteps stopped. A sigh, and the closing of a door. A few seconds later, she heard the shower run.

Oliver was home. A fresh wave of panic came over Katie, and the Portkey beside her never looked so tempting. It would be so easy to just disappear.

"NO," she admonished herself, clutching the table. "Are you a Gryffindor or a flobberworm?" She grabbed her glass of orange juice and downed it.

She didn't know how long she sat there trying to think of something to say. Her mind was shooting blanks. So engrossed was she in her non-thoughts that she didn't notice the sound of clothes rustling, of a door opening, and of bare feet making their way to where she sat.

Really, he shouldn't have been disappointed. Oliver ran a hand through his sweaty hair as he made his way to the bathroom. His bed was empty and unmade, and no one was in his living room. Katie had left, and he couldn't blame her.

He'd woken up feeling like a sorry sod that morning. After making breakfast, he did some admin duties and took his daily run through the compound's park to clear his head. It was no use at first. He hadn't even had much to drink, yet his memories of the events of the night previous were blurry enough that he couldn't tell if he'd acted out of line, or if he'd misread Katie's signals. He thought everything was going well, but then again maybe his fatigue, or his low tolerance to alcohol, had clouded his judgment.

Earlier when he had collected Katie's Portkey, Security informed him that he was alone on the compound. Very strange. But it was a free day, so he supposed his teammates, none of whom were ever known for their tame lifestyles, had milked the night to the fullest. Even Coach Nolan hadn't reported to work. While Oliver was concerned about Fairfax, and resolved to find her within the day, he admitted to himself that felt particularly envious of Flanner. While he couldn't guess how his teammate's conversation with Geyser went, at least the man finally told her everything like he'd meant to for so long. No fear.

It was then that clarity came by him. As his feet hit the pavement to the pace of his heartbeat, he knew what it was he ought to have done. He stopped in his tracks and ran back to his building.

Oliver let his mind rest as he stood in the cool spray of the shower. It would do no good to worry. A good scrub and a shave later, he padded into his bedroom and got dressed. He set about finding his playbook and some writing tools, and made his way to the kitchen.

And stopped in his tracks.

It was only after doing a double-take that he realized he wasn't alone.

"Kates."

Katie shook her head and looked up. After a pregnant pause, she replied, "Hi."

"I was..." Oliver looked dumbfounded for a second. "I thought you'd gone home."

"Oh! Um, nope!" she let out a nervous giggle. "Th-thanks for, you know, letting me stay. And for breakfast."

Oliver nodded. "Of course." His expression suddenly determined, he put his things down took a step towards her. And then another.

"I mean, I just woke up. Uh, no rush, I mean... it's a free day for us, I don't know about you, but, uh, wha- what are you doing?"

He stopped before her and pulled her out of her seat, looking down into her eyes. "Something I should have done a very long time ago."

But before he could take her face into his hands, she gasped, whirled away and vanished.

"Bugger it all to hell," Katie groaned when she landed, arse first, on her porch. "Not again." A few feet away lay the offending Portkey, which she'd elbowed by accident at the worst moment possible. She glared at it accusingly.

Gathering all her will, she got up and walked into her bungalow. She hurriedly grabbed her quill and her playbook, which she'd hidden for a fortnight, and struggled with what to write.

Ol, she began. Her palms were sweaty as she wrestled with her pride and her nerves.

She finally penned, I didn't mean to touch that Portkey.

That was all her so-called Gryffindor courage could handle, so she promptly shut the book and shoved it under her pillow, squeezing her eyes shut. She screamed into the pillow and sighed resignedly. There was nothing she could do now but wait.

Katie had barely been home five minutes when Wilda came marching by.

"You," the Chaser pointed through the window. "Come with me."

"Uh," Katie called after her. "Rude?" Wilda only threw her hands in the air and kept walking. She wasn't one to be messed with, and after what Katie had witnessed the night previous, it seemed going along with it was a better idea. So she followed Wilda out of her home barefoot until they arrived at Bruna's porch. Wilda unceremoniously flung the door open and entered.

"Wilds," Katie called exasperatedly, but it was useless. Sighing, she, too, went inside.

Wilda had walked straight into Bruna's bedroom, and proceeded to shake her awake. "Geyser. Get up."

"Hnnngh. What are you doing here?" the Keeper croaked.

"Tsk. Bru. You've got some talking to do." Wilda waggled her brows at Katie.

"Can we do this later?" Bruna begged. "I've barely just started sleeping."

"Tough," Wilda snapped. "Now move it!"

"No."

"Now."

"NO."

"Brunhilda Geys-"

"WHO told you to call me that." Bruna sat up in bed, crankily glaring at Wilda, and then at Katie.

"Your name is Brunhilda?" Katie teased, eliciting some German swear words from the Keeper's mouth.

Unfazed, Wilda replied, "I may have overheard a few things. And now you're gonna get your ass out of bed and we're gonna have a nice brunch."

Bruna scowled. "But you hate brunch."

"Whatever. Late breakfast. I've already told the house elves." Wilda stared at her, daring her to defy her wishes.

Yawning, Bruna threw her legs over the side of the bed. "Fine. Fine!" She stomped out of her room and into her living space. Katie loved Bruna's home - it was all shades of cream and white, with accent walls in lavender and jade. She had the most perfect breakfast nook - a birch wood table with matching chairs - overlooking the lake, and live plants and flowers in every corner. If Katie's home was DIY pretty, Bruna's looked like it came straight out of a posh Muggle home decorating publication.

They sat at the table, and within seconds, house elves were pouring them coffee and setting the table.

"Well?" Bruna sipped her espresso tiredly.

"Don't 'well' me," smirked Wilda, "What's the dirt on Flanner?"

Bruna rolled her eyes. "Don't act like you don't already know. If you caught him using my real name, what else wouldn't you have heard?"

Wilda shrugged. "Good point. What happened after the whole baby confession bit?"

The Keeper gawked at her, then at Katie, who only shrugged apologetically. Then Bruna sighed, "He, uh. He wants me to meet her. Beatrice."

"And?"

"And... Merlin, it's too early for this." She shot Wilda an exasperated glance, but the woman clearly wasn't taking no for an answer. Then she took a better look Katie. "Since I figure this is the Spanish Inquisition, I might as well ask you why you're wearing that Puddlemere shirt. And - oh, my, my. Whose boxers might those be?"

Katie blushed to her roots under her teammates' scrutinizing gazes. "Hey. I just crashed at his place," Katie explained flatly. "I didn't have anything to change into."

"His? Wood's?" demanded Wilda, who then declared then that a large spill session was in order. The house elves marched in bearing three large bowls of vanilla ice cream.

"Thanks, Bootsy," Katie mumbled to one of them, who stood in awe of Bruna before her fellow elf pushed her away.

"You call this breakfast?" Bruna made a face.

"Of champions," Wilda replied. "Now who goes first?"

Bruna and Katie eyed each other expectantly. Finally the Keeper said, "How about you, Wilds? You caused quite a ruckus last night. Besides, this was your idea."

Wilda stared them down, but neither girl made a move to start talking. "Fine," she bit out. "So I snogged Brevis Birch. And maybe Fairfax, too. Just a little."

"Fairfax?" Bruna gaped.

"Not a big deal," Wilda rolled her eyes. "So don't look at me like that. Merlin knows I got enough of this from Jones. Bloody cow."

Katie shook her head. "Were you... alright? I mean, you weren't... He didn't -"

"No, no, no!" Wilda shouted defensively. "I was perfectly fine. Can't a girl just have some fun? Circe."

Katie tried, "Why did Gwen flip out?"

"Oh, no," Bruna pouted. "Gwen saw?" Wilda regarded Katie warily.

"Sorry," Katie said, and shared what exactly she'd seen.

"The problem with Jones is that she thinks she owns me and the rest of this bleeding team. She doesn't. Period." Wilda shoveled a big spoonful of ice cream into her mouth.

Bruna opened her mouth as if to say something, then promptly shut it.

Katie asked, "Would you know where Fairfax went?"

"No."

"Er, Oliver said she left with Birch."

"...Wood? See, what's going on there, Rookie? That's far more interesting to me."

"Well," Katie hesitated, "Nothing." She'd messed everything up, that's what.

Her teammates raised their brows at her. "Right."

"Look, I was only asking because Oliver was worried about her. Birch isn't a good guy, and -"

"A bad boy," Wilda smirked. "Just the way I like 'em. Tell Wood not to get his jock strap in a twist."

"He'd just wanna make sure she was safe."

"What a gentleman," chimed Bruna delicately.

"Tsk. See, what's with you two and these nice guys anyway? They're so boring. Like this ice cream. Vanilla."

"Wilds. Being a good guy doesn't equate to being boring," Bruna defended. "And I believed Sean was a prick before last night. Actually, scratch that, he's still a prick for not telling me. Having a child doesn't make him Mr. Perfect. In fact, it's far from ideal."

"But it screams 'stability'."

"If he were married, yeah. But in spite of the circumstances... he's the one guy that just got me, you know? Don't you want that, Wilda?"

"Ha," Wilda scoffed. "I'm not gonna be chained down, not when I'm having this much fun. Hey Bell, whatever's going on there, I say call that shit off. Both of you."

"Okay, it's not good to be angry in the morning," Bruna held her hands up diplomatically. "Bottom line, I told Sean... I'd give him a shot."

"You will?" Katie beamed.

"Yeah. We'll go out, and if it feels right... I'll meet his, uh, Beatrice."

"You sound jealous."

"I'm trying not to be," Bruna admitted. "She's his child. She should be his priority."

Wilda shook her head. "Fine, I'll play nice. To think you used to deny even liking the bastard."

Bruna poked at her food. "I could never admit it, but... I really missed him. Even when I thought he was married I still had these... feelings, because there wasn't any closure. I'd dated other guys, of course, but I'd compare them to him... Sorry, I'm rubbish at this."

"Oliver says he's a great guy," Katie supplied.

"Well," Bruna smiled shyly, "In spite of everything, I think he is. We'll see."

"Well then I guess I'm glad you reconciled last night." Wilda grinned wickedly.

"He brought me home. We talked til the sun came up... Although it wasn't exactly peaceful, thanks to your and Gwen's screamfest."

Wilda's face soured. "Don't ruin my breakfast. You, rookie?"

Katie shook her head. Not now.

"Nothing? Booooring."

Katie might have argued that Wilda hardly told them anything either, but she decided against it. She realized both she and Wilda probably needed the distraction, so she let the Chaser continue grilling their hapless Keeper.

All stories exhausted, Katie reluctantly left Bruna's that afternoon and went on a run. Then she took a cold shower. A long one. After which she fluffed her pillows. And arranged her regrettably small book shelf. And brushed her hair. And then she told Bootsy what she might have for dinner. Having run out of useless things to do, she sat down to pen a letter to the only person who would probably understand her inner turmoil.

Dear Alicia,

Sorry I didn't get to say goodbye last night, but I hope you had as great a time as I did at the party. I have so much to tell you. The Leaky, 8pm tomorrow? Please?

Katie

She tied it to Gwenog the owl's leg and let her go. Having run out of things to do, she gathered her nerve and reached for the playbook. Was it dread she felt? Or hope? She couldn't even tell. She opened it to the bookmarked page.

Ol,

I didn't mean to touch that Portkey.

Nothing followed. Katie winced. Whether or not Oliver had seen the note, one thing was certain: she was an idiot. She sullenly turned the page back, expecting to find their last correspondence. Instead she found exhaustive run-down of yesterday's game, which Oliver had spoken of but she'd forgotten.

She read through Oliver's commentary, relishing his handwriting as she'd missed it. Her eyes slowed over the portion of text he'd written about her. It wasn't the page he'd boasted of at all, but it gleamed with the promise of... more? Or was she hoping again?

BELL. 50 points / 11 attempts.

Hi Kates, if you're reading through this prattle, and if you don't mind, I'd much rather discuss your stats face-to-face. Otherwise we'd have a full novel on our hands. Maybe later, at the gala. You were stupendous, and your numbers got me off to my worst statistical start in my career. Well-deserved win. It seems you've got me all figured out! :-)

Katie snorted. "Hardly." But a frisson of something went up and down her arm and she kind of hated herself for it. She turned the page back to her sad little note, trying hard not to mope. And then she saw it. The beginnings of his scrawl.

You there, Kates?

She scrambled for a quill.

Yes! she wrote unsteadily. She waited a minute, two, for a reply, but none came. Her heart, which dared to hope, felt itself falling.

Then a knock came on her door. She looked up, confused, before heading to open it. Standing before her was none other than Oliver, looking shy but just as determined as he did that morning.

"Ol," she began. "I-"

He cut her off. "Let's try that again, shall we?"

And then he took her face in his hands and kissed her.

Katie's eyes widened before she allowed herself to melt into him. He felt so new, yet familiar at the same time. The pressure of his lips - warm, dry, and soft - on hers was all it took to erase her current worries. He pulled away to gauge her reaction.

"Wow," he began, only to have her tug back at his robes and kiss him more thoroughly, closing the space between them. They maneuvered their bodies smoothly inside the house as his lips caressed hers, and in that moment she felt nothing but sheer happiness. A thrill ran through her body as he wrapped his arms around her and lifted her up. Finally, finally. Her lips smiled against his.

After what felt like a lifetime she pulled away, beaming, and placed a hand on his face. For lack of anything better to say, she said breathlessly, "I guess I should ask you what that was for."

Oliver (equally bowled over, it seemed) ran his thumbs over her cheeks, laughing sheepishly. "It was getting ridiculous."

Katie laughed nervously. "It was. I didn't mean to snog you so hard."

"That's not what I meant," he shook his head earnestly, "Kates... I needed to. When I saw you at the game, and then at the party, I couldn't have wanted to kiss you more. I'd missed you, and... you were beautiful," he tucked Katie's hair behind her ear. "You're always beautiful. And I've been a right prat all this time."

"Ol, of course not," Katie blushed into his shirt.

"Why? I know I'm not the most eloquent bloke. But I mean it. I realized... I should have had the bollocks to do something long ago. And this setting is hardly romantic. No fireworks, no stars..."

But Katie couldn't have been happier standing in her living room, in his arms. She hugged him tighter, taking his scent in, hearing his heartbeat. She looked up at him and on her tiptoes gave him a timid kiss. "Are you kidding me? This is something of a miracle, after everything I've done to muck things up. I thought... maybe it was just me."

"Kates," he murmured into her hair, more than satisfied with her confession. This was how things were supposed to be. It just felt... right.

"Hmm?" Her hands found his. They intertwined their fingers fully, and found that they fit perfectly. She happily pulled him onto her couch, and he leaned in for another kiss. She playfully stopped Oliver's lips with her finger, and asked, "Well, then, what took you?"

He stopped for a beat. "I did see your message," he admitted. "But I didn't want to just barge in here without letting you recover. I realize now I may have frightened you this morning."

"Mmm, not in a bad way." She trained her eyes on his arms, a bit embarrassed. "I'm such a klutz."

"Good to know," Oliver said, and pulled her onto his lap. "Anyway I decided to go look for Fairfax in the meantime. I found her, by the way."

"You did!" Katie was close enough to inspect the faint freckles across the bridge of his nose.

"Yes, and she damn near hexed my bollocks off, too. I decided to do one more sweep of the grounds. She was in her locker room. She hangs out there a lot to get away, I think."

"Had she been there long?"

"Well," Oliver winced, "It seemed she'd just gotten back, actually. I walked in at the most inopportune moment. She was exiting the shower. But I didn't see anything!" he hastily added as Katie smirked at him. "I was very much distracted by something else."

"What?"

"She had these..." he gestured around his face, "Gigantic gobs of black goo around her eyes. I demanded to know if she'd been cursed by Birch!"

"What! That was probably just her makeup! From last night!" Katie's peals of laughter filled the room.

"I know that, now," Oliver said petulantly. "She cussed me out badly - damn near decked me, too."

"Did you find out what happened?"

"No... She said she didn't remember. In any case, she's home safe. Maybe the less I know about the other things, the better." He shuddered at the thought.

Katie shook her head. "Stupid Birch."

"Kates," Oliver then implored, "I know you can take care of yourself. It's one of the best things about you. I only walked away last night because you asked me to, but I was watching very closely. But from now on, please... let me keep him away from you."

She regarded his serious expression, and smoothed the crease between his knitted brows.

"It's important to me," he added.

"Okay, Ol."

"I would have shoved him off sooner, but I had no right. I was... afraid of it."

"Of what?" Katie shook her head, not understanding.

"Of... this. I had no right to tell you what you should do. Even now I don't, but more so then because I sat around and did nothing about..." he took her hand and pressed it to his chest. She felt the thrum of his heart, strong if a bit quickened by his sudden emotion. "You have to know, Kates, it's always been you. Then I realized today... a girl like you doesn't deserve to sit around and wait on cowards. A girl like you shouldn't, and wouldn't."

"That's not fair. I was afraid, too."

"Godric must be rolling in his grave," he laughed, kissing her hands. More seriously he said, "For the longest time I've been waiting. For the right time, the right place, I told myself."

"Well, I wasn't exactly running after you." Katie blushed.

Oliver shook his head, reaching for a lock of her hair. "This was on me, Kates. Call me old-fashioned, but you deserve to be pursued. With all a man's heart. And if I can't do that," he held her hands tighter, "Then I don't deserve you. I may not be your Captain anymore, and I know you can take care of yourself, but I still want to protect you. From all those Bludgers, or from anyone that tries to hurt you."

"You are my Captain, Ol. And you help me more than you could know. I was getting so tired of hiding it," she confessed. "Last night... I should have kissed you, too."

"Well." He smiled, and leaned in to kiss her again.

Katie faked a sigh, "I guess you're a step up from Davies."

"Juuuust barely."

"And I guess you're kind of better than that Birch pillock."

"Damn right, I am." Oliver huffed as she wrapped her hands around his neck and peppered his cheeks with kisses.

"I've always wanted to do that," she purred against his jaw. Her heart felt like it was going to explode.

"Well, now it seems we've got some making up for lost time to do," he declared, taking her face in his hands once more.

A/N: That's it for now! Hope you liked it! Now here's my important note :) I debated with myself a long while as to whether or not I should post this here, but I felt like I should do whatever I could to help. Please take some time to read it, and if you'd like, please leave me a review.

Dear friends,

I know this is an unorthodox post at the end of a chapter, but I'm reaching people any way I can. I beg of you to please pray for the Philippines, and if you can, donate to Red Cross or to UNICEF. If you've been following the news, you'll know that the biggest supertyphoon in the world has just ravaged the archipelago, leaving thousands of deaths and massive destruction in its wake. It's difficult to feel this when the rest of us haven't been affected at all, but let me try to show you:

It's been four days since the storm left but little aid has reached the most affected areas. It is to the Philippines' detriment that they are an island nation; supplies cannot be distributed easily, nor can power be restored. Not even in airports that they so desperately need to work to deliver goods. More than 2,000 people have died, and over 10 million people have been stripped of their homes, and deprived of food, water, and medicine. Basic supplies have only been coming in in trickles compared to the overwhelming need. Survivors are not only looking for their loved ones - they're looking for the means to live day by day.

Filipinos are among the happiest and most resilient people, and they've weathered a score of storms and rains with much aplomb just this year alone. But the typhoon Haiyan has been something else, even for them. If you can help, please, please, please do. Fanfiction might be our little escape, but this is so real.

That's all, and thanks,

Izzo.

LINKS TO DONATE (please just remove the space bars):

1. World Food Program goo. gl/go

2. UNICEF goo. gl/zSQYAV

3. The Philippine Red Cross goo. gl/WLncKe