Merry Christmas to my bro Sunday {aka summer; narrowskies}, even though I'm not sure she celebrates it?
/knows almost nothing about the Muslim religion; yer gonna have to educate me babe. :P But yeah, I love you and happy holidays and shit. ;)

also; i made ollie dearest a year younger than he is in canon in this story, jsyk.


look up the stars are fading,
and i am still here waiting to see you again
-boys like girls, on top of the world

"Let me tell you a story," she says. "Where the good guys don't always win and the bad guys aren't always so easy to spot – where they have good hair and a killer smile, and they make you laugh like no one else."

"Let me tell you a story," she echoes, and he listens. He always listens.


It's raining outside when it all begins. She's sitting in the court yard on a fountain older than her great grandmum, soaked from head to toe, watched kind of dazed as the rain falls from the night sky.

It's probably below zero degrees outside and she's going to catch a cold if she stays out there any longer, but Katie's always been one to be careless.

Part of her wants to get up and dance in it. She wants to feel free, for once in her life. She wants to just let go. So she does. She gets up and she drops her heavy cardigan, soaked with water, to the cold cement, leaving her in only a black tank top.

Her wet hair is cold on her shoulders, but she doesn't mind. It reminds her she's still alive – that this heart of hers is still beating as she stands there under that cold September rain. And then she's dancing and twirling around and there's limbs flying hazardously everywhere and maybe she looks just a little bit ridiculous, but she doesn't care.

The rain gets heavier and she can hardly see two feet in front of her but she's still dancing {if you can even call it that anymore}.

Then Katie runs into something hard, warm, and solid.

"Ofpmh," he makes a weird noise as she bangs accidentally against his chest and Katie knows instantly it's her Quidditch-cazed captain.

And maybe she blushes a little, and maybe her heart speeds up, just a little. "Sorry, sorry," she manages to get out. She takes a minute to congratulate herself for not saying sometime like 'take me now,' as that would really make for awkward Quidditch practices.

"Katie?" He tries to get a better look at her in the rain. "What are you doing out here?" For a second she's sure he's actually worried about her well-being for reasons other than quidditch, but then he goes and does what men do best – opens his mouth and ruins it. "I can't have one of my chasers getting a cold before the season even starts!"

Katie manages to block him out as he goes on about his last year to win the cup and such. Just as she's thinking about dinner {maybe there will be mashed potatoes tonight? Mashed potatoes are pretty freaking amazing.}, Oliver waves his hand in front of her face.

"I should go now," he gestures to the papers he's protecting under his rain coat. "I have to finish planning our plays for the first game. You should get inside," he touches her shoulder lightly as he says this last part, before letting it fall down to his side.

It's one touch, and yet, her insides are all twisty and she feels like giggling and turning bright red and planning their wedding all in that one moment. It's over whelming, so Katie just nods and grabs her cardigan, so she can go do what she does best to get her mind off of things – eat potatoes and annoy Fred with cheesy knock knock jokes.


Three months later and nothing has changed, except for the fact that Katie is falling deeper into... love? Infatuation? Whatever it is, it's strong and distracting and it makes Katie sick. Love was never something she had planned out for right then – fourth years don't know what love is, much less experience it with someone three years older.

But still, no matter how much Katie scowls at herself in the mirror and tells herself Oliver has one love and time for nothing else – Quidditch – she can't bring herself to move on. She can't.

And she has no idea why.

Love was never her intention. But karma always did hate Katie more than anyone, that bitch.


It's December. Katie's sitting in the Quidditch stands staring down at an empty pitch right after a big win. Sytherin against Gryffindor. Gryffindor won, 250 to 129. She feels oddly empty after this win, watching as George and Alicia attempt to snog each others' faces off and as Angelina and Lee hug, holding each other a second too long.

Love is blooming all around Katie, but she's sure all she'll ever be is that loud-mouthed, sarcastic, immature girl who's going to die alone hitting on guys fifty years younger than her {screw cats}.

She looks up at the gray-ish sky, squinting as she tries to see clearly, but it's impossible, as the snow is picking up. It's freezing, so she pulls her jacket tighter around her small frame. And that's when she notices Oliver heading towards her.

"Hey," she murmurs when he's only a few feet from her. He doesn't respond right away and she watches nervously as he shoves his hands in his pockets and stares down at her intently.

Oliver opens his mouth, like he's going to say something, but then changes his mind and closes it for a few seconds, as if he's rethinking everything. Finally, he speaks. "You were... really good out there, tonight," he gestures to the pitch and Katie fights a frown. She can tell with ease that's not at all what he wanted to say.

"Thanks," she says dully.

"No problem," he mutters, turning to leave. He stops, a few feet away from her, with his back to her. Katie wonders in a moment of her usual and not at all rare distractedness what type of conditioner he uses. His hair is always so soft looking, and part of her wonders if she could replace it with something that would make it more ruff and dry, so she won't be as tempted to reach out and run her hands through it.

"Katie?" His voice is soft, softer than she's ever heard. It's like there's a sleeping baby in the room he doesn't want to wake up or something.

"Yeah?" Her pulse is racing, her mind is racing, and she forgets how to breathe for a second. A thousand questions run through her mind. Is he going to ask her out? Does he like her? Is he going to announce his undying love for her and demand they elope and move to Iceland where they can then rise baby goats and eat lots of cheese?

"You have a bit of spinach in your teeth," is his ever so deep reply, and Katie falters for a second, pausing midway in her 'romantic paradise honeymoon' daydream.

"Um, right, okay," and when she looks up, he's gone, without so much as a goodbye.


Fred comes up to her one day a few weeks before Valentine's day, asking her advice on what type of flowers to get for 'this girl I really like.' Katie is too distracted to really pay him any attention, but she tells him, "stargazer lilies," anyway.

Originality is a wonderful thing and lilies beat clichéd roses any day in Katie's book.

If she wasn't so distracted by Oliver, she would have noticed. She would have saw it in his eyes – in the way his forehead was shiny and his whole face was flushed and the way he grinned sort of awkwardly at her, yet, at the same time, like she was his whole world.

She would have seen herself in him, in that moment.

But she didn't.


She should have known better, to fall for someone like Oliver Wood. He's a one track kind of guy and that one track is Quidditch. But still, she does. And, soon, it's February, and, dammit, she is so freaking sick of Oliver's obviousness.

So she kisses him on Valentine's day.

She's too reckless, too careless, too caught up in her own world to see. This won't end well at all.

Oliver is shocked, but he kisses back and everyone is clapping for them and he asks her to be his girlfriend and she grins and says yes and everything is so perfect.

She doesn't see Fred run out of the Great Hall, dropping a bouquet of stargazer lilies as he goes.


They're no good from the start – she's too messy and he's too neat. They fight and fight and fight. And, slowly, he's trying to change her – to make her into the girl he wishes her to be – the one who is proper and polite and actually cleans. But she's not that girl, she'll never be that girl.

And yet, she still fights for it – for him, and for them. She may be a lot of things, but she's never, ever been a quitter. She's wanted this for way to long to let it just slip away like that.

What she doesn't realize is sometimes it's better like that, to realize something is broken, to understand there's no fixing, and accept it, and then just walk away from it. And maybe that seems a little bit ridiculous, to have wanted something for so long, only to walk away from it, but it's better that way sometimes.

It's better to accept it's broken and walk away from it, instead of cutting your hands up, trying to fix it.

But she's Katie, and she just wants so desperately for this to work that she doesn't give a damn if her hands are bloody and bruised, so long as she fixes things, she's happy.


There is no real fixing to them, she soon realizes. That doesn't make her fight any harder, or kiss him any gentler as she leaves the next year to start her fifth year of Hogwarts. They're civil for the day, no arguments, no fights, no yelling, just love. It's nice, Katie decides.

She needs this, like a person needs air or a fish needs water. And, maybe that's a bit of an exaggeration, but she's Katie and she's scared that she's spent all this time waiting and wanting for nothing.

Sometimes it feels like Oliver isn't fighting as hard as she is to save this relationship. He's too busy having a love affair with the only thing he'll ever truly see – his playbook. But she still has hope for them.

Without hope, Katie has nothing. So she holds on when she should let go.


He eventually starts to drag her down and honestly, it's just as much her fault as it is his. She had the chance to let them go – they could have had a clean break and she could be moving on now – but she didn't, and now she's going to have to face up to her mistake.

It was never love. Not really, anyway. It was more like infatuation, or maybe it was just that she wanted to badly to be loved, and Oliver was just there and it felt right, but it wasn't, not really.

And that much starts to show through very quickly.


She shows up at his dorm door soaking wet in tears. And, it's funny, isn't it? How he hugs her without a word. How he knows just what to do - how to make her smile. He knows - he always knows.

Oliver is always clueless - hell, he's the reason she's crying in the first place (another canceled date so he could get some more Quidditch practice).

And suddenly, as Katie cries in Fred's arms, she realizes something. Fred has always been there - always. She knows he always will be. Butterflies fill the pit of her stomach and she pulls away a little so she can look at him.

His eyes are dark and he's looking at her the way she wanted Oliver to look at her.

She meets his eye for a few seconds, before she pulls away from him and wipes her face off with her sleeve, unsure of herself now. Stepping back from him a few steps, she says, "I should go."

He doesn't speak as she walks away. He doesn't grab her hand or kiss her passionately. He just stands there and watches her walk away wordlessly.

Part of her wishes he didn't.


The next few weeks, she avoids Fred. She kisses Oliver harder and holds his hand tighter and tries to forget that feeling of being held by Fred and the look in his eyes. She can't, though. It's not a memory she could just erase. Without even meaning to, she thinks back on it countless times everyday.

She's suddenly so unsure about everything - her relationship with Oliver, her friendship with Fred, her feelings, and her love life.

It was just a hug.

Even though she tells herself this a thousand times, she knows it's not true. It wasn't just a hug - it was so much more.


She bumps into him in the library, which she finds so ironic and as proof that someone up there has it out for her. Her eyes are wide as she staggers backwards and she's sure she looks like a deer in the head lights.

"You've been avoiding me," his voice is low, a soft murmur, and it's different from his normal, booming voice - more intimate. Katie swallows hard and shakes his head.

"No," she says, but her voice breaks and it's so obvious that it's true that she can't even stand it. Why does she have to be an open book?

"Just admit it, Katie." He whispers, invading his personal space and she's dizzy and confused as to when they became this. It's pretty obvious by the way he's looking at her that they've crossed that line and become more than friends. Is that even possible? To become more than friends without actually doing anything romantic? Except, you know, the occasional hug and eye contact and now, the way he's talking to her.

Shaking her head, Katie tells him she's late for potions and then runs toward the Gryffindor Castle. She needs to talk to Angelina and Alicia.


After a long talk over chocolate bars and warm butter beer, Katie is still at a loss about what to do, only now she has a small stomach ache.

"Talk to Oliver," Alicia mutters, half asleep.

It sounds like an awful idea to Katie at first, but then she decides she'll do it. Even if it means losing the two people she cares most about - Oliver and Fred.


"Oliver! Hey, Ollie! I was hoping we could talk?" She said, with wide, hopeful eyes. She's kind of shocked to find out he wants to talk to her too.

"Yeah, I meant to look for you earlier, but I got caught up in Quidditch. Anyways," he goes on and Katie tries to speak but he just keeps on talking.

She doesn't even get to open her mouth before he dumps her.

"It just isn't working - it's not you, it's me," he explains and she wants to slap him. She can hardly breathe and can just barely speak. A lump rises in her throat and tears sting at her eyes and she feels like a wreck.

"Fuck you," she manages to gasp out, before she turns and runs.


Her mind races as she runs towards the Gryffindor common rooms; towards her best friend - towards Fred. She wasted so much time on Oliver, when all she ever needed had been right in front of her the whole time. She felt breathless - and it wasn't because of the running she was doing.

Suddenly it all made since - Fred was in love with her. Had been for a while, probably. Probably as long as she was with Oliver. But she was too caught up in a fantasy to realize this.

She came to a stop outside the sixth year Boys Dorms and paused to catch her breath, before she started banging on the door. Fred opened it and raised an eyebrow at her, but she doesn't let him speak.

"Let me tell you a story," she says. "Where the good guys don't always win and the bad guys aren't always so easy to spot – where they have good hair and a killer smile, and they make you laugh like no one else."

"Let me tell you a story," she echoes, and he listens. He always listens.


She tells him everything - how much she thought she was in love with him, how blind she had been, how Oliver broke up with her and she realized all she ever needed was right in front of her. How sorry she was if she had hurt him - all of it.

"It's okay, Kates," he gave her a lopsided grin and pulled her into his warm embrace.

And, it's funny really - how someone could be so caught up in fairytales that they never even realize what they have; what they've always had, she thinks, grinning against his chest.


"I love you," he whispers out of nowhere in the middle of Potions. And, for the first time in her life, she actually believes that someone does love her.

"I love you more," she whispers back, winking. For the first time in a long time, she feels like she's on top of the world, and damn if it isn't one of the best feelings.


Maybe it's true - maybe happy endings are fairytales.

But who ever said fairytales couldn't come true?

a/n: not so sure what i think about this one, but whateves. ily sunday! hope you liked it :)everyone else, please no favourites without a review, yeah? :)