Disclaimer: It's all Jo's.

Author's Notes: So, this story is (insert desired adjective here). Yeah. Enjoy and whatnot.

Of reviewing:Place reader's choice of adjectives here. Insert comment about dialogue here.

Alisa

"—and have them perform some fast-pace figure-eights, Quaffle keeping with the center person at all times—"

"Oliver!" Katie Bell plopped down next to her Captain and fellow teammate Oliver Wood, who was bent over a large amount of parchment, muttering to himself as he scribbled away.

"—break outside the scoring area to throw off the defense, but keep the Quaffle moving—"

"Oliver."

Oliver waved an impatient hand at Katie, the other continuing its frantic scratching on the parchment.

Katie let out an exaggerated sigh before donning a mischievous smirk. With one swift motion, she had Oliver's plays in her hands, his quill still moving through the air.

When Oliver realized his notes had mysteriously disappeared, he turned to Katie with an exasperated, "What, Katie? What is it?"

"Oh, I was just thinking," she began slowly.

"About giving me my plays back?" finished Oliver hopefully.

"What plays?"

"The plays in your hand!"

"Oh, these plays?" said Katie, rifling through the parchment uninterestedly.

"Yes, those plays," said Oliver. "Of course, those plays. What other plays could I possibly be talking about?"

"Well, it's just that you write up so many plays," drawled Katie, "that I'm never quite sure which ones you're talking about."

"Yes, well, I'm talking about those plays," said Oliver stoutly.

Katie dropped the parchment unconcernedly on the floor—Oliver scooped them up immediately—and said, "Well, I don't want to talk about some silly plays."

"They're not silly!" exclaimed Oliver, affronted. He shuffled the parchment delicately and set them neatly next to him. Once he had done that, he continued, "If you're not here to talk about my ingenious plays, then what are you here to talk about?"

He distinctly heard her mutter something that sounded strangely like, "Ingenious my arse."

"What was that, Bell?" he said accusingly.

"Nothing!" Katie said sweetly. "Just pondering… first kisses!"

"First kisses?" repeated Oliver incredulously. "That's the best you could come up with?"

She wrinkled her nose. "I'll remember to have a couple of festive conversation starters next time."

"Good."

"And that's the best you could come up with?" she shot back.

"I'll remember to have some witty comebacks ready the next time I see you."

Katie smirked at him. "Fair enough."

Oliver, certain that their conversation was over, went back to his plays. Katie twiddled her thumbs idly as she watched him rearrange the parchment on his lap.

"So… let's hear about that first kiss!"

Oliver looked up from his diagram to Katie, who was staring at him with inquisitive eyes. "What about my first kiss?"

Katie nearly choked. "You've kissed a girl before?" she questioned in disbelief.

He frowned. "Of course I have, I'm seventeen. Why wouldn't I have?"

Katie shrugged, looking a bit bashful. "Well, I've always assumed that you've been too wrapped up in Quidditch to have the time for girls, especially kissing them."

Oliver colored just a bit. "It's not like I do it all the time," he muttered.

"Just once in a while?"

"Yeah, just once in a while."

"But how often is once in a while?" she pressed.

"Merlin, I don't know!" he snapped, his eyes furrowed. "It's not like I keep track of when I kiss girls!"

"Oh." Katie frowned and turned her gaze toward the fire, which was crackling merrily.

There was the scratch of quill on parchment for a few minutes as Oliver finished off a play and Katie chewed on a nail.

"How was it?"

He didn't lift his eyes from the parchment as he replied, "How was what?"

"How was your first kiss?"

Oliver turned to look at her; he had to. Her voice, when she said that… she sounded so timid at that moment, so honestly open that he couldn't help but stare at her.

"Oliver?"

He shook his head. "My first kiss was… interesting, to say the least."

Katie suddenly grinned and pulled her feet up underneath her. "Ooh, let's hear all about it then."

Oliver gave her an incredulous look.

"Come on now, no need to be shy!" she insisted brightly.

"Well… promise you won't laugh?" he pleaded.

Katie raised her right hand. "I swear on my History of Magic book."

"That doesn't even count as swearing! Pick something else," Oliver demanded.

"Fine. I swear on… Quidditch Through the Ages, then."

Oliver, approving of her chosen object of which to swear on, said, "I'll take that. So no laughing, now that you've sworn on a sacred object."

"Quidditch Through the Ages is a sacred object?"

"It pertains to Quidditch."

"Of course," she said, with an accompanying eye-roll. "It pertains to Quidditch."

"So… my first kiss." He rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment. "I really don't like telling this story much…."

"Why not?"

"Well… I really wasn't the one doing the kissing."

Katie's eyebrows shot up in her hair. "Intriguing. Do tell."

"It was my fourth year." (Katie nodded appreciatively.) "I was walking to—Potions, I think—with Percy Weasley, and all of a sudden this little first year—midget little thing, you know how they are—comes up to me and just…"

"Just…?"

"Just kisses me." Oliver blushed embarrassedly.

But it looked like Katie was far from caring about Oliver's red cheeks. She was looking at him oddly.

"Did you even know her name?" she demanded.

"She was a first year, of course I didn't," he said, still working away the flush in his neck.

Katie pursed her lips. "That was my class, I'll have you know."

"Yes, well… I'm not good with first year names," Oliver mumbled.

"What'd she look like?"

"Wha—? Uh… long blonde hair, wide brown eyes—"

"You know her eye color?" cut in Katie.

"She was staring straight at me!" defended Oliver. "I didn't have anywhere else to look!"

Katie made a disgruntled noise in the back of her throat.

"Why? Why're you being so—so testy about this?" he said sharply.

Katie sighed. "I was the—you're just acting so, ashamed of this whole thing! Was it really that awful, Oliver?"

He stared down into her shining eyes. "It wouldn't've been so bad if I had… if I had known her name. If I had known who I'd had my—" He coughed, embarrassed.

"First kiss with?" she asked gently.

He shrugged, clearly uncomfortable.

"Do you really want to?" Katie questioned.

"Yeah—I mean, it's one of those things a person likes to know—would be nice to know, I guess, tell the kids about someday…"

"It was me."

"What?"

"It was me. I was the one that kissed you in your fourth year. Leanne had dared me to kiss a Quidditch player, any Quidditch player I wanted, and you were the only Quidditch player I actually knew, who I would be able to find in a crowd, and I wasn't going to back down, so I kissed you! I just walked up to you and kissed you and I could see you just staring at me and—God, I've never had another kiss like that one!"

Oliver gaped at her. "You—you haven't?"

Katie shook her head and folded her arms, looking suddenly shy.

"Well… was it any good?"

Katie looked up sharply. "What?"

Oliver lowered his gaze to his twisting hands. "It's just—was it any of a good kiss?"

"Oh." Katie couldn't help but smile. "It was pretty good for my first."

"Your first?" he confirmed.

She nodded.

Oliver smirked. "Then we're even."

She quirked an eyebrow. "How?"

"You were my first and I was yours. We're even."

Katie laughed appreciatively and threw an arm around Oliver's shoulders. Her eyes lighting up, she said, "You know what I think?"

Oliver slipped his arm around her shoulders as well. "What?"

"I think we should try that first kiss thing again."

Oliver was happy to oblige.

FIN.