Another short one-shot, set during the summer before Katie's seventh year and after Wood's been recruited by Puddlemere. Enjoy!

Only Because of Quidditch

Katie Bell chucked the Quaffle, held tightly under her arm until that moment, directly at Oliver Wood's head. He let out an owlish cry and ducked downward on his broom, the ball only just making it into the hoop behind him. He turned to watch it fall slightly before charming it back up into the air for her again, and then turned a scathing glare on her, even if it didn't last long.

"That, Bell, is cheating!" he called after her retreating back as she zoomed halfway across the professional Quidditch pitch at a breakneck speed. "You'd have been penalized!"

He couldn't help the little grin that pulled his lips back as he watched her, though, elated to have been invited to fly with him that day. She was home for the summer before starting her seventh year at Hogwarts, and he had reserved this end of the field for the two of them for most of the day. Five other professional players were using the other end, but he and Katie were fine down here alone. He'd asked her to come under the guise of keeping him in shape between practices, but really, if he were honest with himself he had been missing her terribly. This was a foolproof excuse to spend time with her, and she was more than happy to be flying through Puddlemere's gorgeous arena.

Wood readied himself as she turned to come flying back toward him again, crouched low and gaining speed, her scarlet and gold Gryffindor Chaser's robes burning in the bright sunlight as they whipped out behind her. She wilted off toward the right gradually and, knowing she was tricking him with it, he prepared to make a quick move to the left - which she began to mirror herself, only to throw with her other arm at the very last second, tossing the Quaffle into the far right hoop just over Wood's fingertips.

"I thought you knew your Chasers, Wood!" Katie yelled happily as he dived after the ball, catching it easily before it hit the ground and tossing it over with a scowl. She beamed back at him. "Or maybe Ange taught me that one last year. Or," she added, her smile widening devilishly, "I just know all your moves."

"Fine," he muttered, squinting through the afternoon sun as she hovered nearby. "But that other one didn't count."

"What about all the other goals I made today against Puddlemere United's famous reserve Keeper?"

He was silent for a moment before replying unhappily, "Okay, those counted. But still not the one you threw at my head, that wasn't fair."

Katie laughed, the cheerful sound lilting clearly through the hot, stiff air. "Oh, Oliver, I've missed you." Her words hung between them, and she sensed the subtle change in tensions as she met his eyes. She smiled again to break the awkwardness, using her free hand to smooth down some of the flyaway pieces of dark blonde hair on top of her head that had escaped her ponytail. "Aren't you worried your teammates will see you messing around with a silly schoolgirl like me?" she asked, suddenly feeling self-conscious. "Not that I'm not, you know, enjoying it. Practicing with you."

"I'm enjoying it, too," he told her, the words coming out softer than he had meant them to.

"Good," she snapped back full of bravado again, willfully ignoring the different route their conversation had taken and turning it around again. "At least now when I tell Harry in September that I quashed you on the pitch, I can also tell him you enjoyed it."

At the end of the day, more of her throws had been caught than had gone through a hoop, but as the sun went down and Wood walked Katie off the pitch, brooms flung over their shoulders, neither could deny their game had been unbelievably pleasant – and now neither could deny either that it was only because of Quidditch.