Originally this was going to be one big long one-shot, but I had kind of a crappy day, so I decided to post the first half already. The second half just needs to be typed up and should be posted in the next few days. Longer A/N at the bottom, please read!

A knock on the door elicited no response. Sighing, Katie pulled out her wand and undid her best friend's locking charms, stepping inside.

As she expected, the place was wrecked. He sure did know how to throw a party – he just didn't know how to clean up afterwards. That lot always fell to Katie. Not that she minded terribly – it got her time with him that she never would have gotten otherwise. Being an international Quidditch star didn't really leave a lot of time for old school friends, even your best ones.

Katie picked her way to Oliver's room, Vanishing trash as she went.

"Oliver?" she called loudly, knocking on the door. She heard him groan and, laughing, let herself in, shutting the door behind her. "Oh, Oliver," she sighed, although she couldn't keep the smile from her face. "You must feel like crap." She surveyed his half-naked form, sprawled on his bed.

"I do," he groaned. Katie laughed.

"Maybe you should ease up on the partying," she said, picking up various items of trash and clothing. She knew it wouldn't happen though – partying with all the richest guys and hottest girls was one perk of celebrity Oliver Wood would never give up.

Oliver mumbled an incoherent response into his pillow. Katie sighed and made her way to his bed, grabbing one of his wrists and tugging. Slowly but surely Oliver inched to the side of the bed. She gave one last mighty yank and sent him tumbling to the floor, nearly falling over herself in the process.

"Ow!" Oliver yelled as he hit the ground, some of his bedding coming with him. Katie snapped her gaze to a spot on the wall as she realized that maybe Oliver wasn't half-dressed like she had assumed. Not that she had minded the glimpse she'd gotten of him…

"I'll go start your shower, Ollie," she said, chancing a glance back down at him. "And when you get out in a bit, I will have found you some Hangover Potion and your place will be nice and clean."

Clinging the sheets to him – not that they did much good, being tightly wrapped around him and practically transparent, Katie noticed – Oliver stood and picked his way to the bathroom, Katie following him. She couldn't help it her eyes were glued to his arse – oh the things Quidditch did to a body. And the things that body did to a supposed-to-be-platonic-best-friend's imagination.

Oliver stepped into the shower while Katie was turned around and tapped the faucet with his wand. Hot water began streaming out of it, loosening his shoulders and making him feel less like he was going to barf.

Katie placed a clean towel on the shelf next to the shower, studiously avoiding looking at the shower curtain or the shadow behind it. She'd done it once…and that hadn't been nearly enough, but it had been enough to make her feel awkward around Oliver for at least a week.

She made her way back through his flat, absentmindedly waving her wand to send things zooming back to their right paces. Katie headed for the kitchen, dreading the state she would find it in.

It wasn't nearly as bad as she feared, but there was still food and empty Firewhiskey bottles everywhere. Katie Vanished them and set the dishes in the sink to washing themselves. She watched them for a moment, always having been rather proud of her prowess with household charms.

Setting down her wand, Katie dug out the last bottle of hangover potion and began making breakfast. When Oliver stumbled into the living room ten minutes later, he was greeted with a plate of bacon and eggs, a glass of orange juice, and a shot-glass full of hangover potion. He downed that first and waited a moment for it to take effect before digging into his breakfast.

"Ollie, Ollie, Ollie," Katie said from above him, sitting down with her own plate.

"Kates, Kates, Kates," he replied, glancing up with a smile – this was their usual post-game, post-after-party breakfast routine.

"You're almost out," she said, gesturing to his now empty shot-glass with her fork. "Might want to get or make more before you tear it up in here again."

Oliver shrugged. "After-party is at Mitchell's next time."

"I know that," she replied, flinging egg at his forehead, "but you are still going to need hangover potion. And tell Mitchell to stop being so OCD on his toss patterns, he's getting way too predictable."

"Noted," Oliver said with a grin. He appreciated Katie's comments about the team, as did all its other members. As the Daily Prophet's official Puddlemere United reporter, Katie had an all-access pass to all of Puddlemere's games. She had earned the team's respect almost instantly by punching Archer, the Seeker, in the nose when he grabbed her ass. She also pointed out several flaws in their formations. Katie was at every game, and was invited to every after-party, though she never went. She wasn't really much for partying.

Although, she thought, looking at Oliver, he hadn't been big on partying either. After five years as Puddlemere's Keeper – their star Keeper, his voice in her head corrected her – Ollie now enjoyed the Quidditch party scene immensely.

"Kates?" Oliver's voice cut into her thoughts, his tone slightly worried. Katie focused her eyes on him, realizing she had been frowning at him for the past five minutes.

"Sorry," she said with a smile. "I zoned out."

Oliver snorted. "I could tell." She stood to take her plate to the kitchen and 'accidentally' hit him in the back of the head with her elbow as she walked by.

"I have to get to work," she said as she placed her plate in the sink. "And you have practice in four hours. Have fun."

Katie bent down to give him a kiss on the cheek before Disapparating and arriving at the hidden entrance to the Daily Prophet. She made her way down the steps and through a wall. From the outside, the building had the appearance of a nearly falling down shack, with boarded windows and shingles falling off the roof.

Katie hung her jacket on an empty hook and responded to the various greetings called to her. She headed to her desk, shoving aside stacks of paper before she could actually sit down and place her purse on her desk.


She turned, and smiled at the man walking towards her. "Hey Matt. How're the Arrows?"

He rolled his eyes. "Hopeless as ever. I envy you Puddlemere – they at least listen to you when you point out their problems. One of the Arrows' Chasers tried to hex me when I mentioned that he throws to the left too much."

Katie laughed. "I just got lucky with my team. And we both got lucky that we were assigned teams that deign to talk to us. We could be like Bartlett over there, with the Tornadoes. They barely even give him quotes for his articles, let alone full interviews, photos, and passes to the games."

Matt nodded. "True."

There was silence for a moment. Katie arched her eyebrow. "Was there something you actually needed?" She asked with a smile.

He shifted his weight and glanced nervously over his shoulder. "I needed to ask you a favor, actually." Katie nodded for him to continue. "You see Amy over there?"

She smothered a smile. "You mean the girl that's been glaring in my direction since you started talking to me? Yes, why?"

"Well, she's my ex. She just got hired here a few weeks ago, and she's driving me nuts. I was kind of hoping you could help me…get rid of her."

Katie's eyes widened dramatically, and she covered her mouth with her hands. "You mean…kill her?" She whispered. Matt glared at her and she giggled.

"No. I mean, make it look like I'm over her so she leaves me alone." He gave her a pleading look. "Please, Katie, I would owe you for forever!"

She chewed her bottom lip thoughtfully. "I will help you out. And you won't have to owe me because you will be helping me out too. Want to go to the Puddlemere game on Saturday?" Matt nodded. "Okay good. You see, the Keeper is my best friend, and -"

"Oliver Wood?" He asked, his eyes wide. "Oliver Wood is your best friend? That is so amazing! Wait, is that how you landed the Puddlemere reporting job?"

"Oliver…may have recommended me for it, but I assure you, I also got the job because I'm freaking good at it. Anyway, he's my best friend, has been since we were on the house team at Hogwarts together. He -"

"You went to school and played Quidditch with Oliver Wood?"

Katie glared at him. "Yes, I did, I was one of his Chasers. And if you stop drooling and listen to what I'm saying, maybe I'll get his autograph for you."

Matt shut his mouth and looked at her with the air of one that was very interested in everything she had to say.

"As I was saying…he's my best friend, has been for a long time, but that's kind of…it. So you want to drive your ex away, and I would like to make Oliver jealous. Or at least try to." Matt's eyes lit up and he opened his mouth to speak. Katie cut him off. "Say anything teasing and I will be going to Puddlemere's game alone on Saturday. And it will be all over the press that Oliver Wood has a stalker."

He snapped his jaw shut. "Saturday, then?"

Katie nodded briskly. "Saturday."



Oliver zoomed over to where he knew Katie would be sitting and hovered, looking for her. There were quite a few people in the press box that he didn't recognize, but no Katie. He felt a small swoop of disappointment and a lot of worry – Katie never missed a Puddlemere game.

"Oliver!" He turned, hearing her voice but not being able to locate her. Hastily, he scanned the members of the press box again, still not seeing her.


"Oliver! Merlin, right over here!"

He turned back to his left again and spotted a brunette with long, wavy hair waving at him frantically. Oliver did a double take. "Katie?"

He flew closer, still not really believing it was her. She rolled her eyes and planted her hands on her hips, hips that were covered with a tight-fitting black skirt that fell to mid-thigh and revealed very long, very lean legs. Eyes moving back up towards her face, he took in the bright red sleeveless shirt she was wearing, and then he registered the fact that she was wearing make-up. Katie Bell, tomboy extraordinaire, wearing make-up, a skirt, and high heels.

"Katie?" He repeated skeptically. She rolled her eyes again.

"Yes, Oliver, it's me," she said tersely. "I don't look that different!"

"Your hair is down," he said with a frown. Katie opened her mouth to respond, but was interrupted by a quiet cough from her left. Oliver's gaze snapped to the sandy-haired man standing next to her.

"Oliver, this is Matt. We work together at the Prophet. He's also in the sports section, covering the Arrows. Matt, my best friend Oliver, Puddlemere's Keeper."

Matt stepped forward eagerly to shake Oliver's hand, but jumped back when another player zoomed up and hovered next to Oliver.

"Katie!" He said with a whistle. "Damn girl, I almost didn't recognize you! You look good! How come you don't wear stuff like this when you interview us or anything?"

Katie rolled her eyes again, but playfully this time. "Shut it, Mitchell."

"You coming by the after-party?" Both he and Oliver fully expected her to say no, like usual. There were both completely shocked when she shot a look at Matt and then nodded.

Oliver's eyes widened, then narrowed as he glared at the man standing next to his best friend. Mitchell shot him a look and punched him on the shoulder when Katie had turned away.

"Get a grip," he muttered. They both looked back at Katie and Matt.

"We're going to head out," Katie said. "We'll see you in a bit at the party." They turned away and began making their way to the door and out into the gradually thinning crowd. Matt placed a hand on the small of Katie's back to help guide her and she looked at him and smiled.

Mitchell's laughter jolted Oliver out of his thoughts.

"Dude, just admit it already!"

"Admit what?" Oliver practically growled.

"That you've got it bad for Katie!"

The Keeper glared at him. "I do not 'have it bad' for Katie."

Mitchell laughed again and began flying away lazily, calling over his shoulder, "Sure you don't!"

Scowling, Oliver followed him and they flew through the tunnel, dismounting their brooms and entering the changing rooms. The whole team was assembled, as well as the coaches.

"Where have you two been?" Head Coach Castle barked.

"Talking to Katie," Oliver responded tightly, and the coach's face softened slightly. Like everyone else on the team, he had become very fond of Katie and valued her pointers.

"Any comments from her?" He asked, his voice losing some of its gruffness.

"No," Mitchell said slyly before Oliver could answer, "but her date seemed like a nice bloke."

Instantly and simultaneously, everyone's heads turned towards Oliver. He glared at all of them, and Castle snorted.

"No wonder you look like someone's pissed in your Cheerios even though we just won."


Mitchell's house was already bursting with people when Katie and Matt arrived. Weaving through the crowd, Katie led Matt to where she knew Mitchell kept the Firewhiskey, waving at various people she knew. Music echoed around them, and Katie recognized it as a Weird Sisters' song from her Hogwarts days.

A hand landed on Matt's shoulder and the both turned to see their host, a half-empty butterbeer in his hand.

"Katie!" He said happily, picking her up and hugging her. She laughed and kissed him on the cheek when he put her down. "How was my shooting today? Better?"

"Much better," she said with a smile. "Much less OCD."

"Good!" He turned to face Matt. "Matty! I'm not going to hug you!" They all laughed.

"That's fine," Matt replied. "Nice place."

"Thank you very much. Feel free to show yourself around. Katie, I need to borrow you for a moment, missy!" Before either of them could respond, Mitchell had grabbed Katie's arm and was dragging her towards the Quidditch room, his room dedicated to awards and memorabilia.

He shoved her inside and she came face-to-face with the majority of the Puddlemere United staff and team, save Head Coach Castle and Oliver.

"What's going on, guys?" Katie asked slowly.

"That's our question for you, actually," one of the Chasers, Ryan, said.

"What's with the guy?" Asked Archer.

"I'm sorry?"

"What we all want to know," Mitchell said, stepping in front of the fifteen or so people assembled, "is why you're here with a random guy instead of with Oliver."

Katie stared at them in disbelief. "Are you kidding me?"

There was a chorus of 'No's. Katie shook her head.

"Why would I be here with Oliver?"

"Katie," Thorne, a Beater, said in a tone one used with a kindergartener, "We all know you like Oliver."

"You do?" She said flatly.

"Well, all of us except Oliver," Archer put in. "But yeah, we've always known. And he likes you too."

"He what?"

"He likes you too," Mitchell repeated, emphasizing each word. "Also something we all knew for awhile."

"Again, except Oliver," Archer said. "The guy is so oblivious to his own feelings."

Katie massaged her temples. "So you're telling me that for the last five years, you've all known that I like Oliver." She began pacing.

"Except Oliver," Archer said.

"Right, except Oliver. And also for the last five years, you have all known that Oliver likes me, but Oliver doesn't know that Oliver likes me. Do I have that right?"

The team looked at each other and nodded. "Pretty much."

"Merlin," Katie muttered to herself.

"So that brings us back to our original question," Mitchell said. "What's with the Matt guy? Is he to make Oliver jealous, or do you actually like him and you're giving up on Ollie?"

Katie sighed. "It's to make Oliver jealous. And we were also trying to make Matt's ex at work back off, she's being creepy."

Thorne smiled. "Well, I don't know about Matt's ex, but Oliver's jealous, alright. Bout took off Archie's head when he said he was glad you were coming to the after-party, and with a date." Archer nodded.

"But I was baiting him," he added.


Katie and the whole team turned around to look at Oliver.

"What's going on?"

I know that some of you are probably sitting here thinking, "Really, a two-shot? What about TWYT?" Rest assured, that next chapter is written. It just needs to be pieced together and typed and edited and then posted. My economics professor for my summer course should be y'alls best friend at this point. In the two weeks that I've been forced to sit through that class, Monday through Friday, 8am to 940am, I have hand-written probably thirty pages of fanfiction. TWYT is almost done overall, I've finally finished this Katie/Oliver story, and I've already gotten a total of three different chapters between two or three different new stories started or written. So don't lose faith in me.
And like I said, today was kind of a crappy day, so make it better for me and review please!