"Why not?" Katie asked curiously. "She's a fit Quidditch star. Terrifying, but well fit. If she wants to, and you don't mind being sore in the morning, what's the problem?"
"Me too. Oliver got me tickets to see him play next week. I already asked Ang to come with," she said apologetically. "Sorry. But you know he'd be well chuffed to have you at a game. Just write him an owl. I'm sure he'll hook you up."