A/N: This is for everyone who read Box Seats and asked for a sequel. Sorry it took so long, it's been in the works for many months, but just took forever to get from brain to computer. I hope everyone likes it as much as Box Seats, and remember to leave me a review no matter what you think.

Lots and lots of fluff! The sequel to Box Seats (but easily read independently.) Katie can't help but feel like her friends are hiding something from her, but it turns out it is her boyfriend who has a secret. Katie Bell/Oliver Wood. Please R&R.

Season Tickets

Katie Bell stifled a yawn as she gazed tiredly into the bathroom mirror. Her sparkly blue coated eye lids, rouged cheeks, and bright red lips stared back at her. Makeup had to be one of the worst inventions ever, she thought, as she waved her wand and the cosmetics disappeared. That was a little better; she looked more like herself now. Well, as herself as she could look while still wearing an elaborate up-do and dress robes that cost more than her monthly salary. Welcome to the wonderful world of professional Quidditch, she thought irritably. The previous evening had been the European Professional Quidditch awards, and it had been a media nightmare. Katie still thought she could see the flash bulbs going off in her eyes. Oliver had managed to keep her mostly out of the media's eye for nearly two years, but only because Puddlemere United had a strict contract with the media they let in. However, the Quidditch awards were fair game for the paparazzi. Katie supposed she could count herself lucky for having two relatively peaceful years of dating Oliver. Things were going to change, though, when all those pictures were released. She would have rabid female fans and Howlers to contend with. She wasn't looking forward to tomorrow morning; no, she reminded herself, it was so late that it already was tomorrow morning.

Katie slipped out of the dress robes, and into a silk nightgown. It too cost more than a single monthly salary for her, but it had also been a gift from Oliver. She was still amazed that professional Quidditch players could get paid so much for so little work, when there were people like the Aurors out risking their lives and only getting paid a tenth as much. She sighed; she really was in a whole different world now.

The bedroom was cast in thick shadows when she finally emerged from the bathroom, her hair brushed out, jewelry put away, and dress robe hung up neatly. Oliver, she noticed, had not bothered so much with his dress robes; they were lying in a crinkled pile on the bedroom floor. Stifling another yawn, Katie walked over and hung them up as well. He might not care how much they cost, but Katie still had not forgotten her modest upbringing. Robes that expensive deserved a hanger, at least.

"You coming to bed, hun?" Oliver asked, his voice muffled since he was speaking into a pillow.

"No, I was thinking of staying up all night and darning socks. I'm just cleaning up your manly mess first."

"Good to know that you don't loose your sense of humor at the wee hours of the morning," Oliver smiled as he lifted his head, pulling down the blankets and patting the left side of the bed.

Katie finished hanging up the clothes, and then clambered into the large bed. She had made the bold decision to move in with Oliver after only a single year of dating, much to her parents' disapproval. They could be so conservative and old fashioned at times. She knew they wouldn't be happy with her until there was a ring on her finger.

"So, tell me again why they scheduled a game for the day after the awards, and all the after parties?" Katie asked as she snuggled against Oliver's bare chest.

He laughed lightly, "the better question is why your department scheduled the awards for the day before one of my games."

Katie smiled as she sunk into the soft mattress, reveling in the warm and safe feeling of Oliver's strong arms. Her eyes were already closed, and her mind barely conscious of what was going on around her. Oliver gave her a gentle kiss goodnight, and she registered that his breath still smelled like alcohol from the many after parties.

"Can I ask you a question?" he murmured, he voice wavering slightly.

Katie was barely awake enough to mumble, "Uh huh."

"You're happy here, right?"

What type of question was that, Katie wondered, pulling her mind back from the brink of sleep. He knew she was happy living with him. "Oliver, I think you've had too much to drink," she giggled.

He opened his mouth, but closed it again, seeming to have changed his mind, then a few seconds later conceded, "You're right, we've both had too much to drink. Now isn't the time."

"Time for what," she inquired, her curiosity peaked slightly.

"Don't worry 'bout it. Good night," he whispered groggily, "I love you."

"Love you too," Katie managed to mumble back before finally forgetting the curiosity and succumbing to sleep.

Later that morning, Katie awoke to annoyingly bright sunlight, deafening alarm cloak, and splitting hangover headache. After a few groggy attempts, she finally managed to silence the wailing contraption on her bedside table. Cracking her eye lids open just enough for her to see, she stumbled toward the bathroom. Oliver would have been up long ago, for pre-game practice and press talks. It wasn't until half way through her steaming shower that she was able to open her eyes all the way, washing away the last remnants of sleep. Grudgingly turning off the water half an hour later, Katie dressed in a terry cloth robe and wrapped her wet hair up in a towel. Walking into the kitchen, she saw that the kitchen table was covered in envelopes, mostly to Oliver from adoring fans. She also noticed that, what they affectionately called the "Bitching Box," was also sitting on the table. Opening the black metal cube, Katie saw several centimeters worth of burnt envelopes on the bottom. Thankfully, the box had come with a charm on it making it sound proof, so that when they put the Howlers inside, they couldn't hear them.

Katie crossed over to the kitchen counter, where she found a plate of cold bacon, several hard boiled eggs, and more importantly, a bottle of Healer Helen's Hangover Remedy. Pointing her wand at the stove, Katie lit a fire under the tea kettle. While she waited for the water to boil, she measured out a little more than the recommended amount of Hangover Remedy and poured it into a tea cup. Throwing in a tea bag, she added the hot water and stirred it several times before taking a tentative sip. Immediately her headache eased up; magic really was a wonderful thing.

Sitting down at the table once more, this time with her tea, eggs, and bacon, Katie gave a wary glance over at the Daily Prophet. Deciding it was best to know what type of damage had been done last night, she flipped open to the sports section. Most of the page was devoted to the awards ceremony, with several pictures of popular Quidditch players. Katie sighed when she immediately spotted one of her and Oliver, though even she had to admit, it was a rather nice one of them standing together outside of the awards' hall. Scanning the article, it seemed to have been well written, talking mostly of statistics and who won what, rather than who had attended with whom. However, Katie wasn't yet willing to bet that her luck had been that good. Instead, she flipped over to the Popular Times section of the newspaper, which was written by reporters who thought Rita Skeeter had been a positive role model. It was there that she found what she most feared. First, breakdowns of who had worn what, though Katie was happy to see she hadn't been mentioned in either the worst or best categories. Next, however, was a list of the most eligible Quidditch bachelors, with Oliver's name near the very top.

"He is not eligible, just because he isn't married, doesn't mean he is eligible," Katie spat at no one in particular.

But it got worse. The next article was written as an advice piece entitled, "How To Snag that Quidditch Hunk." Within the article were several ways to gain the attention of only the most shallow and conceited players, and only if you were the most whorish and immoral woman. However, it was the part about how to steal a player away from a girlfriend that got Katie's attention fastest. The reporter had started the paragraph with, "and if your favorite player is katie-belling it, have no fear…"

Lovely, her name had now become synonymous with dating. Katie loved the fact that in every article, she had been made out to be a slut who had stolen Oliver away from his adoring fans. However, he could be forgiven; he was just a silly male, after all; it was all Katie's fault.

The Quidditch stadium was packed, as usual, for Puddlemere's game against the Montrose Magpies. It was expected to be a very close and competitive game, since the Magpies were currently favored to head to the Championships later in the season. Katie found her way up to the box seats as quickly as she could while flanked by several of the stadium security guards. They saw her relationship with Oliver as possibly dangerous for her, if any crazed female fans decided they wanted to try and take her out themselves. Thanking her escort, Katie entered the box she sat in for every home game. Oliver had gotten her season tickets, of course, for every game, but because of her own work sometimes she couldn't get to the weekday away matches.

Katie looked out across the stadium. There was a group of almost two dozen women sitting in the least expensive seats, all wearing hats whose tops had been charmed to form a giant picture of Oliver's face when they were all seated together. Katie shook her own head slightly. She had been amazed the first time she had come to see Oliver play, and had seen the teeny bopper fans with his picture on their shirts, but that had been nothing compared to how his popularity had blown up when he had been made the permanent starting Keeper. His professional career had been kick-started when the normal Keeper came down with a case of the dragon pocks which, normally a childhood illness, could be very nasty if contracted as an adult. As a result, the old Keeper had spent several months recovering, and at the end, decided it would just be easier if he retired; it wasn't like he didn't have the finances to do so. So Oliver had been given a ten year contract for millions of galleons a year to stay on as Puddlemere's starting Keeper.

Katie was dragged out of her thoughts when someone called her name loudly, "Yo, Bell!"

Pivoting in her seat, she saw four of her former team mates filing into the box. Fred or George, she honestly wasn't sure which, had been the one who had called her name. Angelina and Alicia were following behind the twins, shaking their heads and rolling their eyes at the antics of the brothers.

Katie immediately stood up, hugging each of her former team mates in turn. "It's been so long since I've seen you guys. How have you been? Fred, George, how is your business? What have you guys been up to?"

Fred's face split into an evil grin at the last question, and immediately pulled Angelina close to him. "I don't know if you had heard, but Angelina and I are katie-belling it."

Both Angelina and Alicia both yelled, "Fred!" simultaneously, while George broke into hysterics.

"Oh come on," Fred defended himself as they took their seats. "Those articles are so dumb they are funny."

"They're not funny when you get Howlers from insane female fans every morning," Katie responded.

"Is it really that bad," Alicia asked sympathetically, patting Katie's hand.

Katie smiled at her long time friend and team mate. "I don't want to bother you with it here. We can talk about it later. You're all coming back to Oliver's tonight, right?"

The four friends nodded.

"And if for some reason, with all the excitement, we forget to kiss Oliver's feet for getting us these tickets, please find an equivalent way to thank him for us," George added suggestively.

"George!" Alicia and Angelina chorused again.

George just shrugged innocently as they settled into their seats.

The match began in the usual manner; the players were introduced to the fans as they flew out onto the pitch, their uniforms bellowing out behind them. The roar of the crowd grew to a deafening level when Oliver's name was read and the din continued even after Oliver had taken his position by the goal posts.

Katie gave Alicia and Angelina a look that conveyed, 'see what I mean.'

Actual play started with the release of the Quaffle and the Magpies taking control of it and speeding off in formation toward Puddlemere's goal posts. Katie took her eyes off the opposing team's Chasers for a second to look over at Oliver. To her surprise she did not see the usual calm figure eight pattern flying or in-the-zone demeanor he normally possessed during a match. Instead, he was hovering nervously in front of the three large hoops. With a slight feeling of dread in the pit of her stomach, Katie turned her eyes back to the Magpies' excellent Chasers, who were passing the Quaffle back and forth quickly, making it impossible to tell who would be coming in for the shot. Finally, the Chaser to Oliver's far left took firm possession of the Quaffle and put on a surprising burst of speed for the goal. One excellently aimed throw later and the Magpies were on the board, 0-10.

Katie shook her head slowly; she had seen Oliver make more difficult saves than that, much more difficult saves. Something was wrong. She had seen him play for far too long to fool herself into thinking he was just having an off day; something was distracting him.

"I wonder why Oliver is so nervous today?" she mused to the others. They had watched him play long enough at Hogwarts to have noticed his odd behavior as well.

"Well, it is a big game," George replied quickly, giving Katie the impression he knew something she didn't.

"Give him some time," Angelina added. "He might find his groove again as the game continues."

Katie gave her friends one last suspicious glance before turning her full attention back to the game.

An hour into the game, and the Magpies were still up 50-90. Oliver had managed to save several goals, but had allowed far more to go through. Katie could tell something was still distracting him. Puddlemere had already used up all their time outs; almost all called in attempts to allow Oliver to get his head back into the game, but nothing seemed to help.

The game ended, as all Quidditch games must, with the capture of the Golden Snitch. The crowd had gasped appreciatively as they watched both the Puddlemere and Magpie Seekers race neck and neck for a fleeting snitch. Finally, from amid the tangle of hands reaching for the walnut sized ball, the Puddlemere Seeker pulled up, holding the struggling ball high above his head in triumph. The home crowd went crazy, happy to see their team win despite Oliver's poor performance.

Once the players had trooped off the field, the stadium slowly began to empty as well. Katie led her friends toward the Puddlemere locker rooms, once more surrounded by security guards which only served to draw more attention to her. The usual flock of female fans surrounding the entrance of the locker rooms gave her the usual cold looks and death stares; Katie was used to this by now. She almost preferred the media nightmare inside the locker room than the fans outside it: almost.

Oliver was swamped by reporters. The usual hype surrounding him was doubled the days he didn't perform well. Katie watched as the four former Gryffindor Quidditch players looked around the locker room in awe.

"And we thought the Slytherins were irksome," George mumbled as he pushed past some reporters in order to keep Katie in sight.

The five friends arrived at Oliver's locker area just in time to hear him impatiently tell off a reporter who had apparently just asked a redundant question. "As I said before, I was just having an off day. It happens to everyone once in a while. And yes, I was out late last night with the awards and all, so that may have had something to do with it. And no, it has nothing to do with Katie Bell."

Katie felt her face flush red and looked quickly at the floor.

"We didn't ask if it had anything to do with Katie Bell," a busty female reporter smirked. "But since you so eagerly brought her up…"

Oliver, who had also blushed slightly at the reporter's remark, cut her off angrily, "no more questions today. You should all be huddled around Raschev, he made a spectacular catch and saved my ass today. Go!"

The reporters grudgingly trudged a few lockers down to dote upon Raschev, who gave Oliver a less than grateful glare for the added attention.

Oliver, still irritated, threw his robes forcefully into the bottom of his locker, instead of hanging them up, and slammed the door shut. The small temper tantrum appearing to be over, he turned to his guests, his usual smile back on his face. He turned first to Katie, and to her surprise, pulled her into him and gave her a good, long kiss. She blushed again, as affection was usually not displayed in the locker room, seeing as about two dozen flash bulbs went off the moment their lips touched.

"You have guests," she giggled, pushing him away from her a little bit.

"It's so good to see you guys…"

"…and girls," Angelina cut in

"you all again," Oliver finished.

"You keep getting us seats like those, and you can see us all the time," Fred joked.

"Glad you enjoyed the game then," Oliver replied.

"You know, we could whip up a little something at the shop to help with those reporters," George whispered, a malicious glint in his eye.

Oliver laughed, "I might have to take you up on that. I have a feeling things will only get worse before they get better."

Oliver and Katie led their friends out the secret corridor from the locker room, allowing Oliver to bypass his rabid female fans. The passageway dumped them back outside in front of the stadium, where they could Apparate quickly if the need would arise.

"They are getting smarter," Oliver commented, as he saw a group of girls heading quickly his way from the main entrance to the stadium. Quickly telling his former team mates where to Apparate to, they all disappeared seconds later with a series of pops, leaving the fans only air.

Katie took a brief head count once her and Oliver's flat had materialized around her, making certain her friends had all arrived, and in one piece. All her friends were there, but her boyfriend was conspicuously missing. Before 'where's Oliver' could escape her lips, a closet door behind her swung open and Oliver stumbled out, blushing fiercely. Normally she would tease him for his miscalculation, but the humor was overshadowed by worry. Katie couldn't believe he would be that distracted to Apparate into a closet in his own house.

The others, however, had no problem laughing at their former Quidditch Captain. Fred and George were nearly rolling on the floor, laughing unabashedly, while Angelina and Alicia had politely covered their mouths to stifle their laughter.

"Oh, shut up and come help me get the drinks," Oliver said irritably to Fred and George before leading them off to the kitchen.

"But they're guests, let me help you," Katie shouted after Oliver as she started to follow the boys.

"No, no, let them get the drinks," Alicia replied quickly, pulling Katie back by the arm. "Come give Angelina and me a tour of the flat."

Katie gave her two best friends another suspicious look. It was the second time that day that she had gotten the vibe that they knew something she didn't. However, for the second time as well, she brushed the idea aside and gave in to their request.

Ten minutes later, the tour was over, and as Katie sat with Angelina and Alicia on the living room sofas, she couldn't help but wonder out loud what was keeping Oliver with the drinks. Angelina and Alicia, though, reassured her that she didn't need to go check on the boys. Her place was to sit and catch up on life with them, the boys, after all, had probably gotten into a discussion of Quidditch and forgotten about the drinks.

The boys did return, finally, with a tray full of drinks. Katie sniffed hers suspiciously, just to make sure the twins weren't using the opportunity to test merchandise, before finally taking a swig. Fred and George were whispering madly to Angelina and Alicia on the sofa across from her and Oliver, causing Katie to grow even more suspicious. And then when they all rose at the same time, George announcing that they were making themselves at home and were going to go raid the kitchen, Katie knew they were up to something.

But Oliver pulled her back gently when she tried to follow them. "They are up to something," she accused, pointing to the kitchen and struggling against Oliver's arms.

"They're not up to something," he assured, "they just know something you don't. It's me who is up to something." And suddenly he kissed her rather forcefully, but pulled away quickly as he slid off the love seat. His eyes never left hers as he fumbled around in his pocket for a few seconds before pulling out a small black velvet box. Katie's breath caught in her throat as he cracked it open, revealing a shimmering gold band with a perfect, glittering diamond reaching up from the setting, while several smaller diamonds circled around the first one. He was on one knee now, in front of her, staring up at her shocked face. Neither of them noticed the four heads protruding from the kitchen entrance.

Breathe, Katie, you must breathe, she told herself firmly, but her lungs didn't seem to want to listen. Oliver was saying something, but her ears seemed to have joined league with her lungs, and if they were working, her brain was simply not processing the words. However, her eyes were working perfectly well, and she saw his lips move to the words, 'will you marry me?'

Katie nodded enthusiastically, not sure if she had managed to verbally say 'yes.' With shaking hands she allowed him to slide the ring onto her finger before launching herself into his arms, not bothering to wait for him to get off his knee. When her lips found his, they barely parted for several minutes, and when they did, it was only to mumble "I love you," by one or the other. They finally broke apart when an abrupt, "Ahem," sounded somewhere behind them.

Oliver and Katie turned to see Fred and George looking slightly sick at the display of affection, while Angelina and Alicia were smiling broadly at how happy Katie was.

"You knew," Katie laughed, stumbling to her feet to receive hugs from her two best friends.

"Katie, we're so happy for you," Alicia exclaimed.

Fred and George were clapping Oliver on the back in congratulations.

"He was supposed to ask you last night," George informed Katie after they had all settled down onto the sofas again. "And tonight was supposed to be a big celebration, but our ex-captain here chickened out."

Oliver opened his mouth to argue, and then realized that he couldn't argue with the truth and closed it again.

"Oliver's just lucky we got his owl this morning, or we might have given it away in the box at the game," Alicia added.

"So, we spent half an hour in the kitchen trying to tell him that he was insane, and that there was no way Katie would say no," Fred finished.

"At least you'll have a funny story to tell your kids," Angelina laughed.

Oliver, however, had choked on his fire whiskey, "kids?" he coughed.

"Well, why else do you want to get married?" George replied, sounding very serious but his face revealing his joking tone. "You're already living together, and having…"

"George!" Katie, Angelina, and Alicia all rang out.

"What?" he replied innocently.

"And Oliver," offered Fred sagely, "do Puddlemere a favor, and plan the wedding for the off season."

Katie knew this day would be one of the happiest she ever had: getting engaged and getting to spend it with her best friends and the man she was hopelessly in love with. Katie hugged everyone at least twice when it finally came time to say goodnight. She had already told Angelina and Alicia that she expected them to be bridesmaids, and that they had best be nice to her, or she would pick out hideous bridesmaids robes for them to wear.

Later that night, Katie lay awake in her bed, watching the ring on her finger sparkle as she moved her hand in the candlelight. Oliver was already asleep and snoring, having gotten far less sleep the night before than he needed. Katie couldn't help but move her eyes from her ring to his sleeping form. It didn't matter about the ring; it could have been paper for all she cared. It was the sentiment and meaning behind it; the fact that he wanted her by his side every night for the rest of his life.

Katie turned and gently blew out the candle, which magically signaled the others to go out as well. She snuggled down into the fluffy mattresses, fitting herself into the contours of her sleeping fiancé. She couldn't help but smile as she thought of him using that term: fiancé. It was nice. And for once, Katie didn't care what the press would think, or what the fans would do or say. She was truly happy, knowing she had found the love of her life.

A/N: Hope everyone enjoyed it. Don't forget to leave a review. And if you are an Oliver Wood fan, check out my other story, Oliver Wood's Love!