Remember
Remember that the bludger hit your broom with enough force to shatter it instantly. Remember that, at the time, you were thankful that it hadn't hit your leg. Remember that you changed your mind when the ground began rushing toward you. Remember that you were over fifty meters in the air when the bludger hit. Remember that you like your face where it is, rather than smeared over the pitch.
Remember that Dunning and Covington are already on their way back to the other end of the field with the Quaffle. Remember that Fletcher was already diving for the Snitch when the bludger hit. Remember that there's no one to catch you and the forthcoming landing is going to hurt like hell.
Remember that there's technically no rule that say the keeper has to stay in the scoring zone. Remember that Oliver Wood was in Gryffindor and therefore has an overdeveloped sense of team loyalty, even in regards to a Slytherin. Remember that Wood just bought a brand new Firebolt with his signing bonus. Remember that he spends all of his time catching objects that are thrown at him; something falling past him shouldn't be a problem.
Remember, as his hands grabs at your wrist and he actually manages to stop you from falling flat on your arse in a most embarrassing way, that you dreamed of something similar last night, except it involved more holding down rather than catching. Remember that his hands were just as warm and just as strong in your dream. Actually, no, don't remember that, because that is far more embarrassing than falling on your arse.
Remember that, as he lowers you to the ground, you are a Slytherin, and, as such, have spent the last seven years hating him. Remember that playing on the same team for a couple of months does not change that. Remember that him saving you does not change that. At all. Remember that especially.
Remember that you are supposed to tell him that you're okay when he asks if you're all right. Remember that you are supposed to turn away and worry about getting another broom so you can keep playing. Remember that Fletcher already caught the Snitch and that the game ended while you were busy thinking about the strength of Oliver Wood's hands.
Remember that, as you turn back to face him, it is not okay to punch a teammate merely to wipe the smirk off his face. Remember that the referee's whistle is the signal for you all to vacate the field and return to the changing rooms. Remember that you are supposed to play the part of angry Slytherin and storm back to the hut, slamming doors along the way.
Remember that you are not waiting for Wood to get out of the showers. Remember that you are still trying to recover from the fall and that you have no ulterior motives this time. Remember that, as he steps out of the showers clad in only a towel, you do need to breathe in order to live.
Remember that you are only imagining things when you thought you saw him look over at you. Remember that he hates you as much as you hate him. Remember that you are no longer sure that you do hate him. Again, don't actually remember that one.
Remember that it isn't an invitation you hear in his voice when he says your name, and it certainly isn't want that you see in his eyes when you turn to look at him. Remember that you are supposed to hate him, but also remember that that white towel contrasts very nicely with his tan skin.
Remember that he makes the first move, reaching up to brush a bit of your broom off your shoulder. Remember that when you capture his wrist, his breath catches and his eyes darken. Remember that you are fascinated by the way his tongue darts out to wet his lips. Remember that you move now, reaching forward and pulling him to you. Remember, as your mouths meet and your tongue lingers where his was seconds ago, that he tastes a little like coffee and cinnamon.
Remember that you are in a public place and the rest of team may wander in whenever they please. Remember that you don't really care, because all you can think about is the heat of his skin under your hands. Remember that, as the two of you divest yourselves of his towel and your clothes, you have both been playing Quidditch for years and have developed well. Remember that in your dream you were tracing the outlines of his muscles with your tongue. Remember that, especially. It'll come up later.
Remember that your name has never sounded better as when it was moaned in your ear. Remember that you never thought his name could be torn from your throat in a half-moan, half-grunt of pleasure. Remember that, as your hips rub together and the friction builds, you are supposed to hate him.
Remember that, when you're both finished and lying on the floor, still tangled together, you've never been this satisfied or even this happy. Remember that saying 'thank you' probably wouldn't be the best course of action. Remember that while his smirk is slightly endearing, it is still mostly annoying, and that it is still not all right to forcibly remove it from his face.
Remember that, as you kiss him again, maybe you don't really hate him anymore. Remember that, while you might not hate him, you certainly are not falling in love with him.
Remember that you are not always right about these things, though.