013; FANFICTION
Title: Quaffle to my Snitch
Summary: How Katie and Oliver's relationship develops after Quidditch matches.
Characters/Pairings: Oliver Wood/Katie Bell
Genre: Romance, Humour
Beta: N/A
Rating/Warnings: PG
Word Count: 1276
"Wonderfully played, guys!" Charlie Weasley tried cheering his team up as they headed back to the Gryffindor locker rooms. "Really good passes there, Angelina, and that was brilliant saving from you, Wood!"
A grunt from the young Keeper said it all. The team looked like a pack of sorry pups, standing drenched in the midst of cheering Slytherins. Gryffindor had lost, again, to the green-clad players, and the disappointed faces of their housemates had not helped at all.
Charlie's attempts faded away as the team hardly responded, and they trooped in silence through the throng of Slytherins and into the locker rooms. All of them headed into the showers, faces long and mouths pressed into a thin line, inwardly cursing at their horrible streak of losses in the recent Quidditch matches.
Long after everyone had trudged back to the castle, Oliver emerged from the room and was starting a lonely walk back to Hogwarts when he saw someone sleeping in the stands. If it weren't for her red and gold scarf, he would have missed her entirely; she was so small. Looking longingly at the castle and the warm dinner it promised, he strode towards the sleeping figure.
"Hey."
The first-year - it had to be a first-year, no one else could be so tiny, except for Flitwick - murmured something inaudible and shifted in her sleep.
Oliver prodded her with his broom. “Hey, wake up.”
Her eyes opened - Merlin, they were a nice brown - and stared at him very sleepily.
“We’re late for dinner,” he said awkwardly.
Then he was thoroughly confused as the girl gave a squeak and fell from the seat onto his shoes. He mentally called it A Reason Why Girls Are Weird Creatures.
“You played great today.” She offered shyly as she picked herself up from his muddy footwear. She only came up to his elbow.
He gave a non-committal grunt, the same one he’d given to Charlie hours before. He motioned for her to follow him up to the castle, and she did so eagerly, almost tripping over the tail of his broomstick.
-------
“You were horrible today.”
“I was not.”
“Yes, you were. You terrorized the hell out of Harry!”
“I did not, Kitty.”
The girl beside him fixed him with a stare.
“What?”
She continued to glare at him and he filed it away as Another Reason Why Girls Are Weird Creatures.
“Stop it, Kitty Cat.”
“So you don’t think you were absolutely tyrannical today?”
“No, I don’t.” He made to get up - it was dinnertime, for Merlin’s sake, and there was pudding to be had! - but she yanked on his jumper and he stumbled back down onto the Pitch.
“You,” he ducked as her wand very nearly met his left eye, “you forced us to do your stupid Tumbling Twisty Thunder, or whatever the hell it’s called, which was not at all effective against those slimeballs!
“You,” he ducked again as it aimed for his nose, “yelled at us for the entire match and nearly got booked for ‘Excessive Shouting and General Misconduct’ by Hooch!
“And you,” this time he ducked too slowly and received a prod on his right cheek, “told Harry to get the Snitch in ten seconds or you’d make him smell your bloody armpit hair!”
Oliver had had enough. The petite third-year was threatening to hex his hair off right in the middle of his beloved Pitch and was in the way of him getting his favourite pudding. Add that to a general insult of his coaching methods and he had had enough of This Very Strange Kitty Cat.
“BELL!” he blasted, grabbing her wand in mid-prod (she was aiming for his stomach now), “SHUT UP!”
Brilliantly enough, she did. He blinked owlishly for a moment then began talking before she started to rant again. “I’m hungry, the match ended hours ago, and I’m missing pudding!”
He expected her to curse his broomstick (pun unintended), but all she did was laugh. Yet Another Reason Why Girls Are Weird Creatures.
“You’re such a boy, Oliver! Pudding!”
He stared at her laughing figure as she stood up and began walking to the castle. He shook his head and nearly tripped himself over his own broom as he made to follow her.
-------
Oliver shook his head and grinned to himself. It was perfect timing. He congratulated himself yet again for his marvelous idea.
As the rest of Puddlemere United headed to the showers happy and singing away, he couldn’t resist chuckling to himself. He was a genius! ‘An absolute brilliant man, Oliver, really, that’s what you are.’
He stuck his head outside the locker room. No crazy fans in sight. Especially the one who’d been writing stalkerish letters to him. He shuddered at the thought; the stalker had come to every single match wearing purple underwear on her head to try to catch his attention. It had certainly made him notice.
But tonight, no fans. All of them were at the celebratory party at Diagon Alley, waiting eagerly for their winners to come drink with them. That could wait.
The only one standing there was his Kitty Cat. She looked slightly impatient, as always, and totally unaware of his amazing plan.
“Hey Kitty.”
She turned around with a smile. “Hey you! That was bloody wonderful out there! That save you did with your robes was brilliant!”
Oliver grinned back, and made a mental note never to tell her that it was a fluke that the Harpies Chaser had thrown the Quaffle right into his billowing Quidditch robes.
But enough of Quidditch. (He was sure Katie would be horrified if he told her that.)
He bent down on one knee and heard the exquisite sound of a Kitty Cat gasping in amazement. Just as he’d planned.
“Oliver?”
Oooh, a quiver in her voice? That was unexpected. A mere bonus, nonetheless, so he continued with his hastily named The Proposal Plan.
“Katie Bell, you’ve irritated me to no end since I first met you in Hogwarts. You’ve also made me laugh and cry, but most of the time I want to pull my hair out when I’m with you. I love you, very very much, Katie, and I want you to be with me for the rest of my life.”
He swore he could hear her breath hitch. All very good, but the piece de resistance was still on its way.
“I want to have little baby boys and girls with you. You’re the most perfect person I’ve ever met- umph!”
Katie’s kiss was ruining it. Not really ruining it, per se, but it was at the most inappropriate time.
“Yes.”
He breathed deeply and stared down at the woman with her arms around her head. And, in a completely insane moment, had a vision of her with purple underwear on her head. She was beaming.
His soon-to-be wife. The thought made him smile rather goofily.
The ring was produced and put on her finger. A nice simple silver ring. Just what she always wanted. He did listen, occasionally, when she was talking.
It was only after the celebratory party that she reminded him of his grand Proposal Plan. It was only then that he realized that his Very Very Very Wonderful Line was still unsaid.
“You cut me off during my speech, remember?”
“Oh, right!”
He cleared his throat. It was perfectly fine that he was saying it now; the timing was still rather perfect. She would swoon into his arms and fall even deeper in love with him.
“Well, what I wanted to say was…” he looked deep into her brown eyes.
“You’re the Quaffle to my Snitch.”
Enjoyed it? Comments are appreciated :)
Summary: How Katie and Oliver's relationship develops after Quidditch matches.
Characters/Pairings: Oliver Wood/Katie Bell
Genre: Romance, Humour
Beta: N/A
Rating/Warnings: PG
Word Count: 1276
"Wonderfully played, guys!" Charlie Weasley tried cheering his team up as they headed back to the Gryffindor locker rooms. "Really good passes there, Angelina, and that was brilliant saving from you, Wood!"
A grunt from the young Keeper said it all. The team looked like a pack of sorry pups, standing drenched in the midst of cheering Slytherins. Gryffindor had lost, again, to the green-clad players, and the disappointed faces of their housemates had not helped at all.
Charlie's attempts faded away as the team hardly responded, and they trooped in silence through the throng of Slytherins and into the locker rooms. All of them headed into the showers, faces long and mouths pressed into a thin line, inwardly cursing at their horrible streak of losses in the recent Quidditch matches.
Long after everyone had trudged back to the castle, Oliver emerged from the room and was starting a lonely walk back to Hogwarts when he saw someone sleeping in the stands. If it weren't for her red and gold scarf, he would have missed her entirely; she was so small. Looking longingly at the castle and the warm dinner it promised, he strode towards the sleeping figure.
"Hey."
The first-year - it had to be a first-year, no one else could be so tiny, except for Flitwick - murmured something inaudible and shifted in her sleep.
Oliver prodded her with his broom. “Hey, wake up.”
Her eyes opened - Merlin, they were a nice brown - and stared at him very sleepily.
“We’re late for dinner,” he said awkwardly.
Then he was thoroughly confused as the girl gave a squeak and fell from the seat onto his shoes. He mentally called it A Reason Why Girls Are Weird Creatures.
“You played great today.” She offered shyly as she picked herself up from his muddy footwear. She only came up to his elbow.
He gave a non-committal grunt, the same one he’d given to Charlie hours before. He motioned for her to follow him up to the castle, and she did so eagerly, almost tripping over the tail of his broomstick.
-------
“You were horrible today.”
“I was not.”
“Yes, you were. You terrorized the hell out of Harry!”
“I did not, Kitty.”
The girl beside him fixed him with a stare.
“What?”
She continued to glare at him and he filed it away as Another Reason Why Girls Are Weird Creatures.
“Stop it, Kitty Cat.”
“So you don’t think you were absolutely tyrannical today?”
“No, I don’t.” He made to get up - it was dinnertime, for Merlin’s sake, and there was pudding to be had! - but she yanked on his jumper and he stumbled back down onto the Pitch.
“You,” he ducked as her wand very nearly met his left eye, “you forced us to do your stupid Tumbling Twisty Thunder, or whatever the hell it’s called, which was not at all effective against those slimeballs!
“You,” he ducked again as it aimed for his nose, “yelled at us for the entire match and nearly got booked for ‘Excessive Shouting and General Misconduct’ by Hooch!
“And you,” this time he ducked too slowly and received a prod on his right cheek, “told Harry to get the Snitch in ten seconds or you’d make him smell your bloody armpit hair!”
Oliver had had enough. The petite third-year was threatening to hex his hair off right in the middle of his beloved Pitch and was in the way of him getting his favourite pudding. Add that to a general insult of his coaching methods and he had had enough of This Very Strange Kitty Cat.
“BELL!” he blasted, grabbing her wand in mid-prod (she was aiming for his stomach now), “SHUT UP!”
Brilliantly enough, she did. He blinked owlishly for a moment then began talking before she started to rant again. “I’m hungry, the match ended hours ago, and I’m missing pudding!”
He expected her to curse his broomstick (pun unintended), but all she did was laugh. Yet Another Reason Why Girls Are Weird Creatures.
“You’re such a boy, Oliver! Pudding!”
He stared at her laughing figure as she stood up and began walking to the castle. He shook his head and nearly tripped himself over his own broom as he made to follow her.
-------
Oliver shook his head and grinned to himself. It was perfect timing. He congratulated himself yet again for his marvelous idea.
As the rest of Puddlemere United headed to the showers happy and singing away, he couldn’t resist chuckling to himself. He was a genius! ‘An absolute brilliant man, Oliver, really, that’s what you are.’
He stuck his head outside the locker room. No crazy fans in sight. Especially the one who’d been writing stalkerish letters to him. He shuddered at the thought; the stalker had come to every single match wearing purple underwear on her head to try to catch his attention. It had certainly made him notice.
But tonight, no fans. All of them were at the celebratory party at Diagon Alley, waiting eagerly for their winners to come drink with them. That could wait.
The only one standing there was his Kitty Cat. She looked slightly impatient, as always, and totally unaware of his amazing plan.
“Hey Kitty.”
She turned around with a smile. “Hey you! That was bloody wonderful out there! That save you did with your robes was brilliant!”
Oliver grinned back, and made a mental note never to tell her that it was a fluke that the Harpies Chaser had thrown the Quaffle right into his billowing Quidditch robes.
But enough of Quidditch. (He was sure Katie would be horrified if he told her that.)
He bent down on one knee and heard the exquisite sound of a Kitty Cat gasping in amazement. Just as he’d planned.
“Oliver?”
Oooh, a quiver in her voice? That was unexpected. A mere bonus, nonetheless, so he continued with his hastily named The Proposal Plan.
“Katie Bell, you’ve irritated me to no end since I first met you in Hogwarts. You’ve also made me laugh and cry, but most of the time I want to pull my hair out when I’m with you. I love you, very very much, Katie, and I want you to be with me for the rest of my life.”
He swore he could hear her breath hitch. All very good, but the piece de resistance was still on its way.
“I want to have little baby boys and girls with you. You’re the most perfect person I’ve ever met- umph!”
Katie’s kiss was ruining it. Not really ruining it, per se, but it was at the most inappropriate time.
“Yes.”
He breathed deeply and stared down at the woman with her arms around her head. And, in a completely insane moment, had a vision of her with purple underwear on her head. She was beaming.
His soon-to-be wife. The thought made him smile rather goofily.
The ring was produced and put on her finger. A nice simple silver ring. Just what she always wanted. He did listen, occasionally, when she was talking.
It was only after the celebratory party that she reminded him of his grand Proposal Plan. It was only then that he realized that his Very Very Very Wonderful Line was still unsaid.
“You cut me off during my speech, remember?”
“Oh, right!”
He cleared his throat. It was perfectly fine that he was saying it now; the timing was still rather perfect. She would swoon into his arms and fall even deeper in love with him.
“Well, what I wanted to say was…” he looked deep into her brown eyes.
“You’re the Quaffle to my Snitch.”
Enjoyed it? Comments are appreciated :)