Notes: For Emily (percychased) for the GGE.

Emily: This is a different take on the pairing, and I'm not sure I pulled it off. Either way, I hope you enjoy it :)

A million thanks to Jess (autumn midnights) for proofreading this!

Worst Kept Secret

Oliver Wood – October 1991.

I owe no explanations to anyone. Choosing Katie Bell for the team was a very deliberate action and I stand by it. I didn't choose her because there was no other choice – I chose her because she was the very best. That's all there is.

I won't deny her joy and her enthusiasm were a factor. I won't deny she's charming, and cute, and all those things that only add fuel to the fire of these rumors that I might have a crush on her. I don't care. Honestly, I do not care. Worse things have been said about me than having a crush on a twelve-year-old. All I care is that she knows how to handle a Quaffle, she knows to work with our two current Chasers, and frankly, she's just lethal on a broom. In any case, she's my choice, so she's my responsibility. I'll be the direct cause of her success or failure as a Chaser - and I'm not about to fail.

What I'm trying to say is, Katie Bell's talent and suitability are undeniable. So gossip can go get fucked by a Bludger. I'll make sure she trains hard and properly - whether I fancy her or not.

Percy Weasley – September 1992.

Wood talks in his sleep.

I'm the only one who stays up later than him, so I'm the only one who knows he often dreams about a certain Katie. In such dreams, he often asks her to pass the Quaffle or to go to Hogsmeade with him.

She's three years younger than him, for Merlin's sake.

It's kinda awkward, really.

Leanne Caldwell – May 1993.

The news reaches me before I could talk to Katie: Quidditch was cancelled. Hermione Granger has been attacked. And Katie is missing, but I know better than to worry about it – Katie is probably flying her anger and fear out in the pitch. She's technically a half-blood, but her mother is a Muggle-born. We can't possibly know if this puts her in danger. And Katie, being Katie, is more scared than she's willing to admit.

She reaches our dorm before supper time, just as I'm getting ready to go to the Great Hall. I notice that her long braid is half-undone and her cheeks are red. Yes, she has been flying, but she doesn't seem like she had any fun at all.

"Are you alright?" I ask. As an answer, she throws her broom on the floor and falls down on her bed. I automatically walk up to her and sit by her side. I can't tell if she intends to cry into her pillow, or if she's just avoiding my gaze.

"Katie?" I try again. It still takes me a while to get her to talk.

"What has Quidditch got to do with these attacks, anyway?" she whispers. "Quidditch is a good thing. Helps us take our minds off of things."

"You can still go out and fly," I try to comfort her, but I think she's right.

"I know, Leanne. I just –" She turns back to look at me and thankfully, her eyes are dry. "I'll be fine. But just seeing the look on Wood's face... Quidditch is his life. What's he going to do now?"

I don't answer right away. I'm too used to this. It's known that all the roads lead to Rome and when it comes to Katie, all the roads lead to one Oliver Wood.

"Did you find out who was attacked?" I change the subject.

"Hermione Granger and Penelope Clearwater." And the nonchalance with which she says this confirms that Katie is trying too hard not to think of the darker things that are going on.

"You're scared," I accuse her. Anyone else would be angry, or in denial. But Katie just shrugs.

"You would be, too."

"I am," I assure her. "I… I don't want you to get out of my sight, alright? I know it's silly-"

"Wood said he would ask you to stick to me." Katie interrupts me, and I'm glad the thought makes her voice soften and her lips curve up in a smile. "You don't have to pretend it's your idea. It's okay. It makes him stay calm and I get it."

I didn't want to mention that yes, Wood had come straight to me on this particular matter. I didn't want to say anything, because I can't tell if he has a crush on her or just sees her as a little sister. But I can tell Katie definitely fancies him, and I just don't know how this sort of revelation would affect her.

I sigh. I have too much Oliver Wood in my life. And I mean, I love Katie. She's my best friend in the whole world.

But sometimes I just wish she would shut up about Wood.

Cedric Diggory – November 1993.

"OLIVER WOOD!"

It takes me a while to recognize petite, bubbly Katie Bell in such a state, especially considering that she just let herself into the men's shower area. But I get it. Wood isn't in a good state of mind, and it's partially my fault.

"He's not coming out of there," I say.

"You should be celebrating with your housemates, Diggory. It was a fantastic game." I feel a small weight leaving my heart when I realize she means it, but I'm still torn.

"I can't just… leave him here." And I can't. It's my fault.

"Suit yourself." And she doesn't care – well, it's not like she should care. "OLIVER WOOD, GET OUT OF THERE RIGHT NOW!" That's not going to work. "DON'T FORCE ME TO COME IN!"

Well, that is going to work. Surely enough, the sound of pouring water stops coming from inside, and we're only left with the raging storm that brought us here in the first place.

"Diggory, hand me a towel…" I quickly do as Bell asks. Without looking, she thrusts her hand in the stall Oliver showers in, and when her hand comes out, it's empty. "Thanks. Just send him over when he's dressed, will you?"

I nod, dumbfounded. Just as forcefully as she came in, she walks out the door, and that's when Wood comes out of the shower. He doesn't say a word. He doesn't even look my way. Only when he's fully dressed he acknowledges my presence.

"Do you think she's still there?"

"I got the impression she wanted to talk to you." He looks surprised, as if he wasn't expecting such attention from Katie Bell. "She said something about sending you over."

"Thanks, Diggory," he says stiffly. "You should go celebrate with your housemates."

This is a good enough cue to leave, and I do so with a small nod and a 'good game' under my breath that I don't think he heard.

The first thing I notice when I leave is, Bell is waiting outside.

"Is he dressed?" she asks. I nod in response. "Good. Thank you so much." And she lets herself in without waiting for my goodbye. I can't help but wonder how he'll take her forcefulness, but I only hope he's grateful to have such a good friend as Bell.

As I walk back in the violent thunderstorm, I think about what just happened and I realize that I've just witnessed a very private moment. It makes me almost as uncomfortable as the circumstances of my victory.

When someone wears their heart on their sleeve, no words of love are needed. That's exactly what just happened with Bell.

George Weasley – February 1994.

"I'll be walking you to class."

"I go everywhere with Leanne!"

"It's either Wood or McLaggen, Katie."

"This is none of your business, Thing Number One."

Katie doesn't even try to tell me apart from Fred. She uses the names Thing Number One and Thing Number Two interchangeably, which makes it pointless trying to confuse her. It's no fun. But we love her anyway. What is fun, however, is butting in whenever she's arguing with Wood.

They both get so angry.

"But it is his business," Wood says. "It's all of Gryffindor's business. Slytherins aren't afraid of playing dirty, and I'm not about to let you be in danger."

"I can take care of myself – I'm a witch, or did you forget?"

He rolls his eyes. "They can do magic, too, and they outnumber you."

"Well, I won't be alone. I know it may come as a shock to you, Wood, but I have friends."

As much as I want to side with Wood, well, Katie has a point here. Harry hangs out with little Ronnie and little goodie-two-shoes, and so far nothing has happened to them. Fred and I hang out with Angelina and Alicia all the time. Katie is popular enough, so assuming she'll be alone and defenseless is ridiculous.

Makes me wonder why Wood is so intent on defending her, really. Or it would, if it wasn't obvious. I don't think he realizes that he fancies Katie. He's so oblivious that I doubt he'd only notice a crush if it was a Quaffle flying through the hoops.

"Well, Katie," he says, "I'm still worried about the fact that you might be defenseless against the Slytherins. This is the second time I find myself forced to do something about keeping you out of harm's way and this time, I just can't risk it. I'm not going to risk this game – I can't risk you getting hurt. Like he said, it's either me or McLaggen."

Can't you see it? I want to yell at Katie. Last year, he made sure her friend Leanne went with her everywhere and sure enough, Katie was never targeted. This year, all of us are easy targets, but she seems to be the only one he truly worries about. Can't you see he's scared of losing you?

Apparently she can't, because she opens her mouth to protest. Then she closes it quickly with a pronounced grimace. She looks at me then, angry that I suggested the idea. If looks could kill, Wood and I would be safer submitting ourselves to be Snape's guinea pigs. And something tells me that would be the least painful of the two.

"Fine," she hisses, flinging her bag over her shoulder. "If you can catch up to me, that is."

Without another word she turns around and makes for the doors at a fast pace. It amuses me – I can imagine her already, getting out of sight and only then sprinting toward her class. Running away wouldn't have made for a very dignified exit, after all.

However, it's the stumped look on Oliver's face that makes me burst into laughter.

"It's not funny, George."

I want to say 'I'm Fred, you twat' but I felt a certain amount of compassion for his struggle.

"Well," I say, trying to stop laughing, "it's not worth skipping breakfast over, now is it?"

Wood reaches for his fork and knife, avoiding my eyes and trying too hard to appear unbothered. For a while, neither of us says anything.

"Say," he breaks the silence. "Who the hell is this McLaggen, anyway?"

Roger Davies – November 1994.

I'm blessed with the skill of reading girls, and after reading a fair share of them, I got to the conclusion that I've done well in choosing Katie Bell.

She's quite the catch. She knows her Quidditch, she has a stunning smile, and she definitely knows how to keep a bloke interested. I can safely say that I'm smitten, and I still can't believe that we've been dating for three months. On this Hogsmeade outing, we skip Madame Puddifoot's and instead decide to wander around and check out the old Quidditch paraphernalia they have in Dervish and Banges.

"Do you reckon someone will buy this little guy, Roger?" she asks, pointing at a one-winged Snitch that rested on top of one of the shelves. "Do you think it works?"

I poke it with my finger and sure enough, the Snitch lifts up in flight. I don't know how it gets up in the air, but it does. Its flight is wounded and lazy, so Katie is able to grab it mid-air with her thumb and pointer finger.

"Poor thing," she says.

"Snitches don't have feelings," I offer politely, but I know this won't work on a girl that thinks that Bludgers are misunderstood, whatever that means.

Sure enough, she ignores me.

"I'm taking it."

"I'll buy it for you."

She rolls her eyes. "Butterbeer on me, then."

"No way."

"Then we don't have a deal." And the way in which she says it, in which she clutches the little golden ball in her hand, makes me lean to kiss her on the cheek. I still don't get the privilege to actually kiss her like I'd want to, but I don't really mind – I've waited long enough, so who cares if I have to wait a few more hours.

Mind you, I have waited long enough. I wanted to ask Katie out last year, but we all knew team captain Oliver Wood was protective when it came to the girls in his team. It was only when he left school for good that I felt confident in asking Katie out.

And that realization makes me feel proud.

"Imagine what your old Captain would say," I tell her, just as we're getting in line to pay. I expect her to roll her eyes at me, to ask if I'm jealous, to ask where that seemingly random comment came from.

Instead, her smile fades and her eyes narrow. She avoids my gaze, and her voice doesn't sound quite alright.

"He doesn't own me," she says. And she's upset. It's the first time I ever bring him up and though I haven't said anything offensive, she looks hurt.

I can see now that there's something terribly wrong – and I know enough of girls to realize exactly what it means. I still buy her the Snitch, though, knowing it would be the last gift.

It's just a little something to remember me by.

Angelina Johnson – December 1994.

"Angelina,

I'm only glad I got out of there in time. They just need to stop cancelling Quidditch. Though to be honest, I'd break my broomstick just to get a minute with Viktor Krum… so no Quidditch for a year might have been worth it.

I can't believe I just wrote that.

Things are good. A bit slow, being reserve and all – I'm still waiting to see some action.

Why are you even asking me about the Ball? It's not like I have a reason to pop up randomly at Hogwarts (unless Viktor Krum is free, if you know what I mean…) So I'm guessing your question was hypothetical. And the answer is, well, if it was a choice between the three of you, I'd ask Katie out. Ha, I bet you didn't think I'd answer. I just think she'd be my kind of date. She wouldn't care if we danced or not, or if I forget all those stupid little niceties you girls expect to hear. I bet you'll force your date to dance all night, and that Alicia will probably want her date to bring her roses and repeat every five minutes how pretty she looks, even if he's just a friend.

Anyway, there's no use in thinking about this. I have a big game to win – or rather, a big game to practice for then watch from the bench while the team's titular Keeper does all the fantastic saves. Patience might be a virtue, but who wants to be virtuous anyway?

Tell me how the Ball went. Or not. Actually, just don't. Who's Krum's date?

Oliver."

By the end of Oliver's letter, I'm laughing out loud. He's always all polite and correct with strangers, but he's one sassy piece of work when one bothers to know him well.

I re-read bits of the letter, and my eyes stop when I reach the bit in which he mentions Katie. It stings a little, because I like to think I'm Oliver's best friend. Not that I fancy him or anything – I did have a crush on him when I was twelve, but now I know him too well to fancy him. Either way, I'm the one still in touch with him, and I'm the one he writes to first when he wants to brag about his achievements.

So the fact that he's so sure he'd like to ask Katie out, and doesn't even pretend to hesitate, does come as a bit of a surprise. Maybe I shouldn't have told him about the Ball and inquire about his thoughts on a date. I have to admit, I just like teasing Wood about girls. I never really saw him dating anyone, and I strongly suspect he could be gay.

What surprises me the most, more than his choice of Katie, is that he definitely has the three of us figured out, considering that he's the least perceptive bloke I've ever met. But when it comes to me, Alicia, and Katie, he's basically an expert. It's true that I intend to dance the night away and that Alicia is an old-fashioned romantic. It's true that Katie's idea of having fun doesn't include worrying about conventions and fantasizing with expectations that may or may not be met.

And it clicks. Katie and Oliver suddenly click in my head and I understand what the twins and Alicia had been saying all along. Maybe he's not gay – maybe he just wants this one girl he couldn't have until now.

I look at Katie. I don't quite know why Roger broke up with her. Katie blatantly refuses to talk about it, though they remain on good terms. I never got the impression she was too into him, anyway...

And it just clicks.

Fred Weasley – November 1995.

Last year, everyone thought Katie was grumpy because there was no Quidditch. But at the start of this year, Quidditch was back and her humor showed no sign of improvement. So I'm surprised she seems fairly unaffected when Umbridge kicks George, Harry, and I off the team. I'm not going to lie, having all of Gryffindor mad at us was difficult, so I sought her company eagerly.

"Thanks for not being mad at me," I say.

"But I am mad at you," she answers honestly. "I'm just angrier at Angelina that she yelled at you like that. Like that's going to fix anything…" She sighs. "I love Angelina, but I don't think she's handling this well."

I can't agree with her. Angelina is doing a good job. She's not Oliver Wood, but she's good.

"You're being too hard on her," I tell Katie. "She's a fantastic captain. You just miss Wood."

To my surprise, Katie just shrugs and nods with an air of complete resignation. And she doesn't even try to deny it.

Alicia Spinnet – March 1997.

Being a trainee in St. Mungo's means doing everything no one else wants to do. So when Katie is brought over, I have to fight to be on the team assigned to ehr. Dark magic, they say – but she can't say anything.

While I'm there, I mostly watch over her, visiting her room every few hours and taking note of her vital signs and physical state.

Nothing changes much, but the people around her. It's always a mix between the same few individuals: her parents, Leanne, Angelina, the twins, Lee, her boyfriend, and occasionally, Oliver Wood.

Of them, Oliver is the only one that seems out of place, unless you take into account how he felt for her when we were a Hogwarts. And I do take it into account, and what's more, I'm tired of seeing them dance around each other. A harmless Hogwarts crush is one thing, but this is much more than that. And I'm tired of the discretion that keeps everyone from helping these two oblivious idiots find their way to each other.

Katie almost died, for Merlin's sake. It's not fun and games anymore.

So when Oliver Wood shows up at St. Mungo's to visit an unconscious Katie for the third time, I can't contain myself.

"Why have you never let her know?" I ask.

"Time never seems right." I'm baffled he answers honestly, and that he doesn't even pretend he doesn't understand.

"There might not be another time," I point out.

He doesn't answer, but he says something under his breath. I catch the word boyfriend.

Well, Katie does have a boyfriend. So maybe he's right about this being the wrong time. It breaks my heart, because I know Katie, and while she never talks about Oliver, her feelings for him are more than obvious.

But I know he's doing what's technically right when Katie regains consciousness: he doesn't even let her know he was ever there. I'm only happy to have my friend back. Even if it means I now have secrets to keep as well. But I have a feeling that it will happen one day. I'm sure of it.

Call me a hopeless romantic, but I think their story is one hell of a love story.

Lee Jordan – December 1997

"You had Katie on air."

I did have Katie Bell on air once or twice. She was Ring. As in, does it ring a bell?

"I can't confirm nor deny." Katie was in enough danger already.

"Is she well?"

"She's alive, Wood."

"Where is she?"

"I honestly don't know."

He sighs. There were those rumors back in the day, but I never took them to be true. Now that Oliver has hunted me down only to inquire about Katie, I realize they were all right.

"If you see Katie again, just tell her…"

Katie Bell – May 1998.

During the last year, I learned that I can only rely on two things: my wand and my gut.

My gut tells me to keep the Galleon from the D.A on a place where I can feel its beckoning. My gut tells me to stay away from my parents' house; to not even check if they're alive.

I don't want to talk about it. I don't want to talk about anything.

I'm taking refuge on the Scottish highlands when the coin in my pocket warms up. The numbers on it show today's date –good to know it's the second of May- and the inscription reads HOG'S HEAD.

But I also know that I can't simply Apparate in Hogsmeade, so I stick to the plan we'd discussed before I went on the run: I Apparate right outside Angelina's place and knock on the door four times.

"Identify yourself!" I hear from the other side.

"Katie Bell. And you are?"

"Oh my God. Katie?" I hear her say, then louder: "I'm Angelina Johnson. What did I tell you last time we met?"

I roll my eyes at the security measures, though I know they're necessary.

"You said that no matter how bad it seems, it can't last forever." Well, it does seem to last forever. "What did I answer?"

"You said that… you said that it was easy for me to say."

She opens the door right after answering, and I don't even get a good look at her before being pulled into a hug.

"Who was that?" I hear another voice – a very familiar voice.

Angelina lets me go and offers a knowing smile. "We were drinking some Butterbeers after practice when the Galleon started burning," she whispers.

I barely hear her, more focused on the new face – a face I haven't seen in over three years.

"Oliver," I greet him. I can't help but smile like a giddy little girl.

"Katie."

That's the man I couldn't forget, no matter how hard I tried. That's my worst kept secret. And he's standing now right in front of me, with a big smile in spite of the circumstances and eyes that are bright with emotion.

It's me who rushes toward him and pulls him into a long hug. I rest my head against his chest, which lets me hear his rushing heartbeat. I don't know when Angelina slips away, but I can't bring myself to care.

"Merlin, you're so thin." He pulls back without releasing me. "What have they done to you?"

I can't possibly answer that – they've done too much.

"At least I'm alive," I whisper. But he still won't let me go.

Oliver has never been an affectionate man, so the way he reaches out at me is both confusing and comforting. He caresses my face and looks into my eyes as if he wants to make sure that yes, it's me and that yes, I'm alive. He holds me close as if he's scared to lose me if he releases me for a second.

"Katie, I'm so sorry," he says. "I'm sorry I never said anything before and I'm sorry you have to find out like this, but- but I've loved you for so long."

I can't say anything. I just can't believe my ears, even though I wanted to believe so many times. There he is – the love of my life, confessing words that I know are hard for him to say. And yes, he is the love of my life. I've had crushes. I know what crushes feel like. But after so many years, I know this is love. I do love Oliver; I love everything about him, from his occasional snarky attitude to his ultimately noble heart.

I love every little bit of him, but I'm so astounded I can't tell him.

He must've realized it, because his lips crash down on mine and it's the most glorious moment of my entire life. He kisses me like I've never been kissed before. His soft lips, warm hands, and strong body are the best thing I've felt in ages, and I want to stay in this paradise forever.

"You shouldn't fight," he says.

"This is my fight. Don't try to shelter me as you always do," I answer, even though I've long stopped being angry at his desire to protect me. I've missed it during this last year.

"Then fight beside me."

That's how it should be – the two of us, together. So I nod, knowing that if I die, I'll die being myself for the first time in my life.