A/N: Now I know that most authors portray Katie as being loud and stubborn, and I've made her more reserved and quiet. Really, Katie doesn't get a lot of dialogue in the books, even less than Alicia and Angelina, so that was what led me to believe she's shyer than the others. I hope you guys don't mind.

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Oliver Wood, Keeper extraordinaire for Puddlemere United and Scotsman down to the marrow of his bones, stared passionately at the woman lying beside him in his bed, his chest flying wildly up and down as he tried to catch his breath. Her blonde hair was disheveled, the elegant up-do it had been in destroyed. The lids covered the green eyes he loved to gaze into, and he could just imagine what waited under those sheets, even though he had just rolled off her.

Katie Wood, as she would now be called, was halfway to sleep now after their first excursion as a married couple. Her breathing had become more rhythmic, and her swollen lips were parted to draw in air. One of her hands, which had so often caught and thrown the Quaffle, now rested on top of the sheets, where underneath lay her hand's tight and well-defined abdominal muscles.

Oliver, as he was still awake, reached down and pulled the blanket at the end of the bed up to cover both of them better than the sheets. After that small task was complete, he smiled a little half-grin and continued to stare down at his wife. His eyes flicked with happiness as he remembered the round-about way which they had taken in order to get to this moment now.

He remembered the trials he, as Captain, had held and the way he had almost immediately given her the spot of Chaser, in response to her talent and the lack of talent by other people. The first game she had been in, nervous alongside Harry, though perhaps he hadn't realized that it was her first game, too. He thought back to all the ways she had grown as a player and as a person in those three years of his Captaincy.

He remembered when he had fallen in love with her when she was only fourteen and he seventeen. People always seemed surprised when they heard the story of how he had fallen for the shy, quiet girl on his house team when he was loud and boisterous when Quidditch was being discussed. Perhaps that was the strangest thing: realizing that out of all the girls that had talked to him over his seven years at Hogwarts, he loved the one who really said the least.

But it wasn't as if she never spoke, though. True, she didn't speak up in pep talks or address the team as a whole, but that made the things she did say seem to be of more importance. She was quiet but in a good way; saying less words just fit her, just like rambling on about Quidditch just fit Oliver.

He remembered how he used to think that three years was an unsurpassable gap between ages. He used to think that it was wrong, that he was much too old for her and that she would be freaked out by the fact that a legal adult thought about her, a miner, in that type of way.

Now, lying next to Katie, Oliver didn't feel that way. Now it felt right, as if this was supposed to happen to the two of them. It was almost like it was their fate to be here in this place, in this moment.

He loved her; what more could be said after that? It felt as if his body was made specifically for the purpose of intertwining together with hers. His mind constantly revolved around her, switching between thoughts of her intelligence and her body and her amazing Quidditch abilities. There was no other way to say it more clearly; he loved her even more than he loved Quidditch.

And so, with thoughts of his new wife still swirling about in his head, he fell asleep.