Chapter 2

Cold Showers and Shame

A/N: Rewrite 2024. R if you have thoughts, suggestions, or gripes!

We lost.

The thunderstorms this week had turned into sleet, making for an ugly mess of a match, and Roger Davies' extra practice had paid off.

There was an overwhelming weight on my chest. This was my future. All of our futures. Futures on the line because of what? Bad weather? Dark forces outside of our control? At the end of the day it was my failure. Mine.

Harry Potter was in the hospital wing, and I couldn't drag myself off the floor of the shower. Pathetic.

The water tumbling from the showerhead had long since grown cold, running endlessly down my slightly crooked nose. I couldn't be bothered to remove my Quidditch robes, so I leaned against the tile, head tilted back and eyes blearily blinking into the icy deluge that mirrored the detritus outside the locker room.

It could have been minutes, or maybe hours. I could see something walking toward me, or maybe it was the water in my eyes.

"Captain?" a voice echoed slightly. I knew that voice, but I was too far removed from reality to place it.

"Wood?" Katie.

Her scuffed trainers came into focus first, then her trousers. Then her Gryffindor sweater that was slightly too long, and finally her worried frown and furrowed brow. I let out a long breath.

"What the bloody hell are you doing?" She lifted a hand under the stream of water and swore, turning it off quickly. "Christ, Oliver, you moron, you're going to get hypothermia and -"

The rest of her babbling was cut off as she ran to the lockers, slamming doors open in search of something. I looked for the words to reassure her. I was the Captain, it was my job to motivate my team, not my team's job to pull me together.

Katie returned, a stack of towels in hand, and dropped to the floor beside me. Her hair was pulled back in a messy bun. I realized the wisps that escaped it plastered to her cheek like she'd been running through the rain.

"Oliver," she began, tugging off my keeper's pads briskly, "You're starting to really worry me. Can you move?"

"We lost," I said thickly, leaning forwards to allow her to lift the sopping gear over my head.

"That happens sometimes, you idiot," she ground out, pulling my soaked jersey from my torso and tossing it onto one of the benches nearby.

"My fault," I muttered as she cast a warming charm on a towel and wrapped it tightly around me, "I shouldn't have pushed so hard."

Katie stopped, staring me in the eye with a steely set to her mouth, "Oliver. It's not your fault. Now get up. You need to get your blood flowing."

Her eyes glanced down at my legs, a blush coloring the tops of her cheeks, "I brought your joggers, I figured you might want to change into those without my help."

I had the decency to wince, "Right. I'm sorry, Kates, I'm being a prick." I pushed myself up from the floor, feeling lightheaded.

She looked up at me, pausing for a second. Her warm hands brushed mine as she handed me my trousers, turning around quickly to give me some privacy.

As I stripped I cleared my throat and asked, "How's Harry?"

"He's awake. Asked how you were."

I felt a lump of shame rise in my throat.

I pulled on my trousers quickly and used the towel to dry off my hair.

Katie turned around, her eyes flicking to my bare chest so quickly I almost missed it. I swallowed slowly.

"Thank you, Bell," I said. I meant for it to be brisk, but it came out soft. I wondered if the lead-weighted warmth in my arms and legs was an aftereffect of the cold water or something else entirely.

Katie gave me a look I couldn't interpret. We were standing close, and time moved slowly as though we were trapped in amber. I couldn't move, but I didn't particularly mind. Her eyes dipped to my lips as my tongue darted out to lick them distractedly. The top of her head reached my collarbone.

"You're welcome," she whispered. Her fingers barely brushed mine, and I felt her shiver.

We were straying into dangerous territory. I was concerned that I would do something regrettable, something that would burst this tenuous thing and ruin it forever. So I stepped away, digging a jumper out of my Quidditch bag and putting a layer of wool between us.

"Are you off to dinner?" I asked casually.

"Nah," she said, rocking back on her heels awkwardly, "I'm going to check in on Harry."

"Mind if I come?" I tossed my bag over my shoulder and grabbed my sopping wet uniform from its unceremonious heap on the bench.

"Not at all," Katie said, and we walked together back to the castle in the freezing rain.