Before anyone knew it, it was mid-April, and the Easter holiday arrived. It didn't feel like a break, though. Everyone, no matter what year, had been given a ton of homework to do in preparation for the quickly approaching exams.

In addition, the Quidditch finals between Gryffindor and Slytherin were the Saturday after the holiday ended and Oliver was a wreck.

"How's he been?" Fred asked me the first night of break while we were sitting in the common room. The twins, Angelina, Alicia, Katie, Lee and I were grouped in front of the fire. Oliver had secluded himself in the corner of the room and he looked totally terrified. I had debated going to sit with him but instinct told me it would be better to leave him alone for now. If I sat with him, he'd either tune me out or snap at me out of stress.

"Tense," I said in response to Fred's question, tearing my gaze away from Oliver. I turned to look at Fred. "I told you even I couldn't distract him from Quidditch."

"But you've been such a great influence on him already!" Angelina exclaimed, looking up from her spot on the floor, where she was leaning against Fred's legs.

I raised my eyebrows. "How so?" I asked.

Angelina looked at me for a moment. "It may not seem it but he's a lot less stressed. Now he's really only bad just before a match and this is a big one coming up, so I'm not surprised he's holed himself up in the corner. But now at least he's smiling and laughing more often. You've made him really happy, Liles."

"And he was the one who begged you to go to Hogsmeade in February," Lee added with a grin. "That may have been a first. It's a historical moment, actually. In a few generations, Professor Binns is going to be droning on about the day Oliver Wood not only wanted to go into Hogsmeade, but convinced someone else to go with him."

I laughed. "That's certainly an achievement."

"You should see the way he smiles at you," Katie added with a sigh. "I wish a boy would smile at me the way Oliver smiles at you." She paused. "Or even just looks at me the way Oliver looks at you."

"He's completely smitten," Angelina said with a smile, reaching over to nudge my knee. I blushed.

Fred and George pretended to gag. "Honestly, this is the most disgusting conversation ever," Fred complained.

"Why does my relationship with Oliver disgust you so much?" I teased leaning over and lightly punching Fred's arm.

"It's weird," Fred whined.

"You and Ange dating is weird," I argued.

"Hey!" Angelina protested.

I giggled before glancing back to look at Oliver, who looked absolutely pathetic. I felt sorry for him and wished I could help, but I know what winning the Quidditch cup meant to him. And I knew he wanted to keep his grades up so he could get a job if professional Quidditch fell through. He was smart and well prepared, but I worried that he stressed himself out too much.

On my way to bed later, I stopped by Oliver's table and gently started rubbing his shoulders. "You okay?" I asked.

Oliver sighed and let his head roll back as he closed his eyes. "I'm a little better now," he said. "That feels amazing."

"You're going to kill yourself prematurely," I stated. "You have a lot on your plate right now and you work yourself up too much about it all."

"I know," Oliver groaned. He paused. "The finals are in two weeks. My NEWTs are in two months."

"It's all going to pay off, though." I assured him as I slid my hands over his shoulders and down his chest. I rested my chin on his shoulder and gave him a kiss on the cheek. "You'll win the match and pass all your NEWTs."

"I hope so," Oliver whispered.

"You're going to get some rest tonight, aren't you?" I asked.

Oliver nodded. "I'm hoping to."

"Promise me you will," I told him. "You're worrying me."

He nodded. "I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize. I just don't want you to overwork yourself." I turned his head towards me with a finger and kissed him gently. "Goodnight," I said before standing up and patting his shoulder.

"Goodnight," he murmured quietly.

I gave him a half smile before turning and heading up to my dorm.

Oliver held Quidditch practice every day over the Easter holidays, despite the fact that the amount of homework everyone had hadn't lessoned. And afterwards, he'd want to do homework and study, but he'd also make sure I was caught up on Potions. He hadn't dropped the ball on tutoring me, even though I insisted that he could.

"Slytherin is leading the tournament by exactly two hundred points," he reminded the team for about the hundredth time during the practice the Wednesday before the match. "This means that we need to win the match by more than that amount to win the Cup. It also means that the burden of winning unfortunately falls largely on Harry, because capturing the Snitch is worth one hundred and fifty points. So you must catch it only if we're more than fifty points up. Only if we're more than fifty points up, Harry, or we win the match but lose the Cup. You've got that, haven't you? You must catch the Snitch only if we're -"

"I know, Oliver!" Harry practically yelled. "More than fifty points up."

Oliver nodded tensely, his jaw set. "Good, good," he muttered.

The whole of Gryffindor House was obsessed with the coming match. Gryffindor hadn't won the Quidditch Cup since Charlie had been seeker. Never, in anyone's memory, had a match approached in such a highly charged atmosphere. By the time the holidays were over, tension between the two teams and their houses was at the breaking point. A number of small scuffles broke out in the corridors, culminating in a nasty incident in which a Gryffindor fourth year and a Slytherin sixth year ended up in the hospital wing with leeks sprouting out of their ears.

Fred and George had been going all out with their pranks. The best one had been when they borrowed the Marauder's Map back from Harry for one night to sneak itching powder in the Slytherin team's underwear. I hadn't been able to stop laughing after watching that one play out the next morning.

Even I found myself getting a bit testy with the Slytherins. Normally, I'd want to stay out of it, but the Slytherins trying to sabotage the Gryffindor team meant that they were trying to sabotage my friends and my boyfriend. One day, I spotted Marcus Flint trying to trip Fred in Potions. So I had shamelessly hit him with a curse that made his hair grow rapidly. It was trailing past his feet in the time it took for Professor Snape to give me a detention. But I didn't even care. I didn't have to worry about my mother finding out either, because I didn't have to anyone at home to write to and mention it and nobody else was going to tell her.

I noticed that Harry was having a particularly hard time, though. He couldn't walk to class without Slytherins sticking out their legs and trying to trip him. Oliver had actually given instructions that Harry should be accompanied everywhere he went, in case the Slytherins tried to put him out of action. It seemed like all of Gryffindor was willing to take on that challenge. Wherever he went, he was always surrounded by a large entourage.

"He's been late for class every day this week," Julian pointed out at dinner as Harry walked into the great hall, flanked by the usual large group of people. They all dispersed once Harry got to our section of the table to let him sit down with us.

"Good thing you aren't claustrophobic, Harry," Fred pointed out with a wry smile.

"We need him protected," Oliver said seriously. "He's the most important player and people are going to try to take him out."

"They could try to take any of you out," I said.

"They'll go for him first and the hardest," Oliver insisted. "We can't lose our Seeker." He pounded his fist against the table.

"We can't lose our Beaters either. Or the Chasers," I said before lowering my voice to a whisper. "Or the Keeper. I'm rather fond of him, you know." I reached out and took his hand, giving it a comforting squeeze.

I could practically see all of Oliver's muscles relax at my touch. He sighed and rubbed his free hand over his face before pinching the bridge of his nose and scrunching his eyes shut. "I'm sorry," he muttered.

"Is this going to get worse once you're a professional?" I asked.

Oliver actually smiled at me as he opened his eyes. "No, I'm hoping it'll get better," he said. "I won't start off as captain, obviously. Our wins and losses won't be as heavily on my shoulders. And if I'm a professional, it'll have meant I've made it. As long as I work hard enough to maintain my position, I'll be fine."

I nodded and squeezed his hand again.

The night before the match, the common room was crowded, but no one was studying. Everyone seemed to be anxiously passing away the time until the next morning. Even Hermione wasn't studying.

"I can't work, I can't concentrate," she said, wringing her hands together. "I'm too nervous."

Despite the nerves and anxiety, there was also a great deal of excitement in the air. The common room was noisier than usual since no one was studying anyway. Fred and George were dealing with the pressure by being louder and more exuberant than ever. Oliver was crouched over a model of a Quidditch field in the corner, prodding little figures across it with his wand and muttering to himself. Lee, Angelina, Alicia, and Katie were laughing at Fred's and George's jokes. Julian was sitting with Neville, Dean and Seamus, while Harry was sitting with Ron and Hermione.

I had been in the library, attempting to get some work done, but it had been useless. I was too nervous myself and I wanted to be in the common room with everyone else the night before such a big match. I wanted to be with my friends. I wanted to be with the team. I wanted to be with Oliver.

Upon first entering the room, I noticed Oliver huddling over the Quidditch pitch model and decided to leave him alone for a bit. So, I joined the twins, Angelina, Katie, Alicia and Lee in the other corner of the room. But then Angelina and Fred started kissing and the rest of us were left to sit there, clear our throats awkwardly and look at each other as we tried to think of something to say to each other.

"Lovely weather we're having, eh?" George suddenly asked, gesturing to the window where the starry sky could be seen through the glass.

I snorted. "As long as it holds up for the match, we're okay. We don't need a repeat of the match against Hufflepuff."

Suddenly, Oliver stood up and yelled, "Team! Bed!"

"It's only eight thirty!" Fred whined, detaching his lips from Angelina's and craning his neck to turn and look at Oliver, who glared at him as he marched over to our table.

"We need a good night's sleep tonight," he said. "We can't afford to be tired or we'll be off our game."

"True," I said, nodding and looking at Fred.

"You're boring, Lilah," Fred said, making a face at me. "Instead of trying to convince your boyfriend to stay up and snog you senseless, you're letting him boss us into going to bed at eight thirty."

"I want you to win tomorrow," I said firmly. "It'll make everyone happy." I met Oliver's eyes and I could see that he knew I understood what it meant to him and that while I did want the team to be happy as a whole, I was dying for the team to win for him. For his last year. So he could feel like he was making his grandfather proud.

"Fine, fine," Fred grumbled, removing his arm from around Angelina's shoulders and getting to his feet. He grabbed her hand and pulled her up too, before kissing her again. "Goodnight," he said, "and see you bright and early tomorrow."

She smiled. "Can't wait."

Fred grinned and kissed her cheek before turning and heading for the dormitory stairs, patting my shoulder on his way by.

George followed closely after him, giving me a smile, and Lee brought up the rear, oddly enough stifling a yawn. It must have been all the homework and studying. It was making everyone tired, even if they didn't like to admit it.

"You coming, Lie?" Katie asked as she, Angie, and Alicia headed up the stairs.

I nodded. "Be there in a minute."

The girls nodded and disappeared up the stairs while I turned back to Oliver, my stomach churning. I was so nervous for him.

"You're sure you don't want to stay up and snog me senseless?" I teased. "I know it must be such a hard decision. Get a good night's sleep so you can achieve one of your lifelong dreams or stay up and snog me? You must be wishing I'd shut up now so you can go to bed." I smiled to let him know I was still teasing.

"Don't be like that," Oliver said with a smile. "You know I'd love to stay up all night with you, but…"

"No, I know. Really, I do," I answered, shoving him gently towards the stairs. "Go, sleep. I'm the one always hounding you to get more rest as it is."

"I didn't say I was opposed to kissing you goodnight at all," Oliver said, grabbing my wrists and pulling me closer.

I smiled. "Good. I was hoping you'd say that."

Oliver smiled as his eyes roamed over my face for a moment. And then he stepped forward, moving a hand gently to my waist as he kissed me.

That was the thing about Oliver—he was always so gentle when he kissed me as if he thought I was made of crystal. Most of the time, I didn't mind one bit. I loved it, actually. But tonight, I made the split second decision to deepen it. I slid my hand to the back of Oliver's neck and stood on my tiptoes as if I were trying to get even closer to him, which was impossible. Part of me thought Oliver would stop me, claiming he couldn't get distracted. But he didn't. Instead, both of his hands slid around to my back. I could feel his fingertips digging into my spine and I arched my back instinctively.

After a moment, he did pull away though. He shook his head as if he were trying to get water out of his ears. "Trying to distract me, Fitzgerald?" He teased, narrowing his eyes at me.

I smiled. "No, just trying to give you some last minute encouragement before tomorrow," I said sweetly, batting my eyelashes as I toyed with the hair at the back of his neck and smoothed out a wrinkle in the front of his sweater with the palm of my other hand.

"Well, thanks," he chuckled. "But I really should get to bed."

"You'll be okay," I whispered, noticing the anxiety clouding his eyes.

He nodded. "I hope so."

I leaned up and gave him a quick kiss before pulling away. "I'll see you tomorrow and I'll be able to tell you again, but…good luck."

"Thanks," Oliver managed to rasp out, giving me a feeble smile before slowly walking backwards towards the boys' staircase, slipping his hand from mine as he did so.

I waited until he was gone before sighing and jogging up the stairs to my own dorm, where, oddly, the other girls were already sleep. I half expected them to still be awake and talking amongst themselves as we all usually did most nights. But not tonight. I smiled, knowing they knew as well as I did what tomorrow meant to Oliver. But I also knew it meant a lot to them as well, as much as they teased Oliver for his obsession. I grinned even wider as I got into my own bed and surveyed the still figures of my friends, out like lights at a quarter to nine in the evening. Oliver would be proud.

The next morning, Oliver spent the whole of breakfast urging the team to eat, while touching nothing himself. That was ridiculous and wasn't going to fly with me. No pun intended, of course.

"Oliver, if you don't take a bite of your eggs right now, I'm going to force feed them to you. I'm sure Fred and George will be more than willing to hold you down and force you to open your mouth."

"We'll do it, Wood," Fred said, nodding vigorously. "We will."

Oliver didn't even crack a smile. Instead, he shook his head, his lips pursed as if he were afraid of throwing up the nonexistent contents of his stomach.

"Please," I begged in a whisper.

Oliver took the tiniest bite I had ever seen of a piece of toast before setting it down and standing up rapidly. "Let's go," he said to the team. "We've got to get an idea of the weather conditions."

"Sunny," I said, pointing to the window.

"We can't tell anything from in here," he said dismissively, waving his hand around. "Come on, team."

I stood up, too, and quickly gave everyone a hug, wishing them good luck as I did so. When I finally got to Oliver, I gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. "You'll be fine," I whispered. "Good luck."

Oliver let out that grunt-whine noise that I had grown to associate with his nerves before turning and leading the team from the room.

"Oh, Merlin," I groaned, sinking back down onto the bench of the Gryffindor table. My heart ached for Oliver. He was a mess. Again, I wished there was something I could do to get him to relax completely, but it didn't seem like even I could do that. Especially not for a match as important as this one.

On the way down the pitch, I met up with Tess and she and I sat with Julian, Ron and Hermione in the Gryffindor section of the stands. Five minutes later, the Gryffindor team walked out onto the field to a tidal wave of noise. Three quarters of the crowd was wearing scarlet rosettes, waving scarlet flags with the Gryffindor lion upon them, or brandishing banners. Julian had managed to grab enough flags for all of us and we waved them and cheered as the team walked out.

"And here are the Gryffindors!" yelled Lee, who was commentating as usual. "Potter, Bell, Johnson, Spinnet, Weasley, Weasley, and Wood. Widely acknowledged as the best team Hogwarts has seen in a good few years."

Lee's comments were drowned by a tide of "boos" from the Slytherin end.

"Oh, piss off," I muttered, sending the Slytherin end of the stands a look.

"And here come the Slytherin team, led by Captain Flint," Lee continued.

"Captains, shake hands!" said Madam Hooch.

Flint and Wood approached each other and grasped each other's hand very tightly; it looked as though each was trying to break the other's fingers. I winced.

"I swear, if that ogre breaks Oliver's hand…."

"You'll what?" Julian snorted. "Flint could easily crush you with his pinky finger."

I scowled, despite the fact that what Julian said was true.

"Mount your brooms!" said Madam Hooch. "Three... two... one..."

The sound of her whistle was lost in the roar from the crowd as fourteen brooms rose into the air.

"And it's Gryffindor in possession," Lee said. "Alicia Spinner of Gryffindor with the Quaffle, heading straight for the Slytherin goal posts, looking good, Alicia! No - Quaffle intercepted by Warrington, Warrington of Slytherin tearing up the field— nice Bludger work there by George Weasley, Warrington drops the Quaffle, it's caught by Johnson, Gryffindor back in possession, come on, Angelina - nice swerve around Montague. She scores! Ten-zero Gryffindor!"

Angelina punched the air as she soared around the end of the field. I cheered my friends' name and waved my flag around. But then in the next second, Angelina was nearly thrown from her broom as Marcus Flint went smashing into her. I screamed and covered my mouth with my hand.

"Sorry!" said Flint as the crowd below booed. "Sorry, didn't see her!"

A moment later, Fred chucked his entire Beater's club at the back of Flint's head. Flint's nose smashed into the handle of his broom and began to bleed.

"Take that," I muttered furiously, clutching my Gryffindor flag tightly.

"That's my girlfriend, you foul git!" Fred roared.

"That will do!" shrieked Madam Hooch, zooming between then. "Penalty shot to Gryffindor for an unprovoked attack on their Chaser! Penalty shot to Slytherin for deliberate damage to their Chaser!"

"Come off it!" yelled Fred, but Madam Hooch blew her whistle and Alicia flew forward to take the penalty.

"Come on, Alicia!" yelled Lee into the silence that had descended on the crowd. "Yes! She's beaten the keeper! Twenty-zero to Gryffindor!"

Flint, still bleeding freely, flew forward to take the Slytherin penalty. Oliver was hovering in front of the Gryffindor goal posts, his jaw clenched. I felt my stomach tighten with nerves.

"'Course, Wood's a superb Keeper!" Lee told the crowd as Flint waited for Madam Hooch's whistle. "Superb! Very difficult to pass - very difficult indeed - Yes! I don't believe it! He's saved it!"

I let out a sigh of relief as the crowd around me cheered.

"Gryffindor in possession and it's Katie Bell, Katie Bell for Gryffindor with the Quaffle, she's streaking up the field—that was deliberate!"

Montague, a Slytherin Chaser, had swerved in front of Katie, and instead of seizing the Quaffle had grabbed her head. Katie cart wheeled in the air, managed to stay on her broom, but dropped the Quaffle.

Madam Hooch's whistle rang out again as she soared over to Montague and began shouting at him. A minute later, Katie had put another penalty past the Slytherin Seeker.

A few minutes later, though, Flint had scored. There was an eruption of cheers from the Slytherin end, and Lee swore so badly that Professor McGonagall tried to tug the magical megaphone away from him.

"Sorry, Professor, sorry! Won't happen again! So, Gryffindor in the lead, thirty points to ten, and Gryffindor in possession…."

It was turning into the dirtiest game I had ever seen. The Slytherins were clearly angry that Gryffindor was winning and the team was rapidly resorting to any means to take the Quaffle. A Slytherin Beater hit Alicia with his club and tried to say he'd thought she was a Bludger. George elbowed Bole in the face in retaliation. Madam Hooch awarded both teams penalties, and Oliver pulled off another spectacular save, making the score forty-ten to Gryffindor.

Katie scored next. Fifty-ten. Fred and George were swooping around her, clubs raised, in case any of the Slytherins were thinking of revenge. A very good and noble idea, in my opinion, but then it took their concentration off the Bludgers. Within the next few seconds, the Slytherin Beaters took advantage of Fred's and George's absence to aim both Bludgers at Oliver. They caught him in the stomach, one after the other, and he rolled over in the air, clutching his broom, completely winded.

"Oliver!" I screamed, panic rising in my stomach. He had managed to stay on his broom, but he looked like he had just gotten the breath knocked out of him. However, it only made him set his jaw tighter in determination.

Madam Hooch was beside herself with fury.

"You do not attack the Keeper unless the Quaffle is within the scoring area!" she shrieked at Bole and Derrick. "Gryffindor penalty!"

Angelina scored. Sixty-ten. Moments later, Fred pelted a Bludger at Warrington, knocking the Quaffle out of his hands. Alicia seized it and put it through the Slytherin goal - seventy-ten.

Now Gryffindor was sixty points in the lead, and if Harry caught the Snitch at this point, the Cup was theirs.

"There it is!" Julian suddenly yelled. "The Snitch!"

He was right. The golden ball was about twenty feet above Harry's head. And he had seen it. He put on a huge burst of speed. Malfoy was right on his tail. He was so close, he could've reached out and touched Harry's Firebolt. Which was exactly what he did. He leaned forward and grabbed hold of the broom's tail, pulling it back.

"He just wanted to slow Harry down so he'd lose the Snitch!" Julian roared. "What a dirty rotten cheat!"

"Penalty! Penalty to Gryffindor!" Madame Hooch screeched. "I've never seen such tactics."

"You cheating scum!" Lee was howling into the megaphone, dancing out of Professor McGonagall's reach.

Alicia took Gryffindor's penalty, but she was so angry she missed by several feet. The Gryffindor team was losing concentration and the Slytherins, delighted by Malfoy's foul on Harry, were playing even better.

"Slytherin in possession, Slytherin heading for goal - Montague scores -" Lee groaned. "Seventy- twenty to Gryffindor..."

Oliver looked positively livid that he had allowed the Quaffle past him. "It's okay!" I screamed, hoping he'd somehow hear me over the noise of the crowd.

"Angelina Johnson gets the Quaffle for Gryffindor," Lee said. "Come on, Angelina, come on!"

Every single Slytherin player apart from Malfoy was streaking up the pitch toward Angelina, including the Slytherin Keeper. They were all going to block her. Suddenly, Harry wheeled the Firebolt around, bent so low he was lying flat along the handle, and kicked it forward. Like a cannonball, he shot toward the Slytherins. They scattered as the Firebolt zoomed toward them. Now Angelina's way was clear.

"She scores! Gryffindor leads by eighty points to twenty!" Lee yelled.

Harry, who had almost pelted headlong into the stands, skidded to a halt in midair and turned his broom back around.

"No, no, no!" Julian yelled from beside me, pointing at Malfoy, who had sped into a dive. He had seen the Snitch and now Harry was on the other side of the pitch. But luckily, Harry had noticed Malfoy too and was speeding towards him. He began to gain on Malfoy. With every second, he seemed to be flattening himself closer and closer to the broom handle. He was suddenly at Malfoy's ankles, and then he was level with him. He took both hands off the broom, knocked Malfoy's arm out of the way and grabbed the Snitch. He pulled out of the dive, his hand in the air and the crowd exploded in cheers.

I screamed with absolute joy and turned to Julian, throwing my arms around him and pulling him into a tight hug. "We won!" I cried. "We won!"

The Gryffindor team had all flown towards Harry and mobbed him as they all seemed to gently float back to earth on their broom. I grabbed Julian's and Tess' hands and yanked them towards the grass of the pitch. But once we got down there, I took off at a run again, heading straight for Oliver, much like I had at the match against Ravenclaw. When he came into view, he had Harry in a death grip of a hug and it looked as if he were actually crying. But I didn't care. I was practically in tears myself.

"Oliver!" I shrieked when I had gotten closer. He spun to face me and I flung myself into his arms, throwing my legs around his waist and cupping his cheeks in my hands. He spun me around, laughing despite the tears on his face as I leaned down and kissed him forcefully. He backed me into one of the goalposts we were standing near and pinned me there as he leaned up to kiss me again.

"You did it!" I laughed, wiping his tears away. "We won!"

Oliver beamed at me as he slowly lowered me to the ground while still keeping me pinned to the goal post. "We won!" he repeated.

I smiled. "I've never seen you smile this wide," I told him, reaching up and rubbing my thumb across the corner of his mouth.

Oliver grinned down at me. "We won!" he said again, letting out a breathy laugh.

"Is that all you're going to be able to say now?" I asked, letting out a giggle myself.

He laughed again and leaned down to kiss me again. He pulled away just barely and I kept my eyes closed as he rested his forehead against mine. "No, there's actually another thing," he said.

"What's that?"

Oliver swallowed and a serious look flitted across his face for the first time since the match ended. When he spoke, his voice was nothing more than a murmur. "Lilah, I'm...falling in love with you."

A/N: I totally forgot to bring this up last chapter, but I just wanted to give a huge shout out to CrowningAster, who was amazing enough to make the new cover for this story! She did a wonderful job and it looks incredible. She's also an amazing writer to boot! So if you have a free moment, you should totally go check out her stories.

Thanks for reading!