A/N: I can't believe this is the last chapter of 'The Wisdom Seeker'. It's taken me a long time to write it, and I miss the days when I had nothing to do but work on my stories; but, alas, I have to work if I want to live. I've been applying for teaching posts and I have an interview next week. Wish me luck. Now, without further ado, Quidditch …

EPOV

May: a warm, pleasant month—the penultimate of the academic calendar. A month in which N.E.W.T. students frantically prepare for their gruelling summative assessments; more importantly (some would say), the month the one victorious team lifts the Quidditch Cup.

Across the table, Bella violently stabbed the sausage on her plate. She had no intention of eating it, of course. She rarely ate before she was due to play. The only purpose the food served now was to prepare her mentally for what she was about to do. Her eyes possessed none of their usual gentleness. If anything, they were slightly psychotic—chocolate buttons on fire—as she mutilated the remains of a once happy farm animal. When the meat—a substitute for Slytherins—had been thoroughly shredded, Bella moved on to her toast, which she quickly began pulling to pieces, grinning wickedly all the while.

"Bella, don't you think you'll be better prepared if you eat something?" I questioned, finally interceding. I'd never seen her like this before. Even when Gryffindor had faced the other teams, there had only been the signs of fierce determination. Now I understood why she frightened people. I've met sweeter looking serial killers.

Bella grunted, but otherwise did not answer. I turned to stare worriedly at my siblings. By the looks of things, they were reluctant to speak. No one wanted to provoke the Gryffindor Chaser, who may or may not have been contemplating bloody murder. Only Emmett looked encouraged.

Excellent, he thought, eagerly shuffling forwards. He was so excited for the match that he could barely sit still. His gaze shifted from Bella to Amicus, who was cheerfully seated beside her, tossing one scoop of scrambled eggs after another into his mouth with wild abandon.

When I peered over to the Slytherin table, the students were laughing heartily amongst themselves, exuding an easy confidence. As far as they were concerned, their house had already won. For Gryffindor to overcome them, we'd need to finish the game with a two-hundred and sixty point lead, meaning that Harry would only be able to catch the snitch when we were one hundred and ten points ahead of our opposition. That put an incredible amount of pressure on Bella, Ginny and Viola.

Almost everyone seemed to feel the tension. It was as if a thick sheet of black clouds had descended over the team, which wouldn't have been all that unusual, considering we were seated beneath the enchanted ceiling of the Great Hall; however, it was perfectly sunny outside, so the heavy atmosphere had nothing to do with the weather.

I perked up at the sound of my father's mind. He was in the process of leading a pack of gawking men down the Grand Staircase, and I had to wonder whether or not I had worn the same dumbfounded expression during my first visit to the school.

Nudging Jasper, I murmured, "They're here."

My brother chuckled lowly and turned to look at Bella. Her vendetta against her breakfast was on-going, so when a wave of curious and excited whispering swept through the Great Hall like a breeze through long grass, she remained completely oblivious.

"Holy hotdog! I'm in heaven! This is heaven!"

With a gasp, Bella suddenly dropped her fork and shot up from the bench. She whirled on the spot, searching for the owner of the deep American voice. When her eyes were greeted with the sight of seven familiar faces, her jaw almost hit the floor.

Charlie, Jacob, Embry, Quil, Jared, Paul and Seth were standing in the aisle separating the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw tables. Embry, Quil, Seth and Jared, the last of which had been the one to alert Bella, had their twinkling eyes on the many platters of food covering the tables, and were licking their lips with anticipation.

"Hey, kiddo," Charlie smiled, looking at his daughter.

"Dad?" answered Bella, blinking with disbelief. "What—you—what are you—"

"We're here to watch you play."

"What?"

Jacob stepped forwards, his casual posture giving no hint of discomfort. It was as if he hadn't notice the scrutiny he and his friends were receiving. "You heard him, Bells," he grinned. "We're here to watch you kick some serious be-hind."

Bella shook her head, continuing to stare at the pair in total shock and awe. All around, the students were eyeing the newcomers, most of whom were receiving looks of appreciation from the female half of the student body.

"Basically," Charlie continued sheepishly, "we offered to buy new supplies for your school. We made a considerable donation, and then your headmistress was kind enough to invite us to watch Quidditch as a thank you."

Bella crossed her arms. Obviously, she wasn't buying it. "You? You lot made a considerable donation?"

"It's true."

"Uh huh, and I'm a pigmy-puff."

"A what now?"

"Never mind." She stared at the new arrivals for one moment longer, savouring the sight of them, before she suddenly dashed towards them, and flung her arms around their necks. Charlie patted her on the back, and after extricating himself, allowed Jacob to lift her off the floor. Although I was slightly irked by the whole thing, I was at least grateful for the fact that the Wolves were fully dressed. Of course, any jealousy I felt went completely out the window when lo and behold, Talto—Bella's lovable, if not slightly naughty, familiar—dropped two cheeky fresh ones on the heads of my rival himself and Paul, the Quileute who had almost killed Bella at Christmas.

"What the … Eew! DAMN IT, BELLA!"

I was powerless to prevent the roar of laughter that subsequently spilled from my mouth. Not one of my siblings seemed to be able to control themselves either, and if we could have cried, every single one of us would have been doubled over in floods of tears. Rosalie accidently put a crack in the table as she banged her fists against the wood, howling with laughter all the while. Emmett and Jasper leaned against each other for support. Alice and I were just as bad, and our violent glee quickly propelled the rest of the hall into similar fits of hilarity.

Jacob's unforgiving attitude didn't relent, and he continued to glare up at the owl, who was currently in the process of performing his usual victory shuffle on one of the rafters. Paul, meanwhile, barely reacted.

"I guess I deserved that one," he muttered, looking up at the feathery rogue. His gaze quickly fell on my fiancée, who seemed just as amused by the scene as the rest of us.

"Let's just forget about it, eh?" she said, once her laughter subsided. "It's in the past."

And that was all that was said on the matter; Bella and Paul put the past behind them just like that. Despite the fact that the Wolf's hair was still smeared with the remains of Talto's last meal, his bright eyes twinkled with gratitude and relief. He was thrilled that Bella was willing to wipe the slate clean, and she seemed just as happy for the fresh start. Charlie, on the other hand, looked on at the Quileute with a less forgiving eye. The wicked smirk he wore as he gazed up at Talto's gift was encouraging. Judging by the tenor of his mind, I gathered that he'd accepted that Paul was truly sorry for what happened at Christmas time, but that didn't lessen his anger; and if the characteristic stubbornness of the Swan family was anything to go by, it would be a long while before the Wolf made it back in the police chief's good books. For that, I was happy. My own animosity was still too sharp for anything less. I was only glad that Leah had decided to stay away.

Charlie and the Wolves sat down to eat. While Hermione used her magical skills to remove the droppings from Paul's and Jacob's hair, Bella's father filled her in on the truth behind their visit.

"Of course, we have Edward to thank for this."

The witch's lips twitched as she stared at me from the corner of her eye. "Yeah, I'd guessed as much."

"It's the last time you'll play for your house," I shrugged. "I thought it would be nice if you could have your dad here." Bella stared at me for a long while. All around us, the Wolves were either shovelling food into their mouths, or locked in animated conversations with the students. I couldn't absorb anything they were saying though, because I was captivated by Bella's face, which held so much beauty and intensity as she stared at me that I was powerless to look away.

"Thank you," she said finally, intertwining our fingers beneath the table.

"You're very welcome," I replied fervently.

After a few moments, Bella's gratitude melted into new emotion. Infectious giggling filled the air, and she shook her head. "I can't believe you bribed the headmistress."

"Hey, even McGonagall has her price. Can you imagine the criticism she'd get if she turned down the opportunity for all those new broomsticks?"

"And cauldrons. Don't forget those."

"Yes," I smiled, "and astronomy equipment, and expensive potion ingredients, etcetera, etcetera."

"You're unbelievable."

"'N' wuh glad abou' dat," Charlie inserted through a mouthful of food. "Fanz Edward."

"No problem." I threw Charlie a warm smile, and he responded with one of his own. Jacob saw the exchange and shifted uncomfortably on the bench. He didn't like or appreciate my growing friendship with Bella's father. For so long, he'd been the favourite, and yet, much to my delight, things were quickly changing.

When I listened to Charlie's mind, I realised that he, quite simply, was content. This was definitely a new development. In the past, the police chief had radiated an awkward resentment whenever he'd observed my affections for Bella. There was no trace of that anymore, though. Now, my loving regard for his daughter resulted in quite the opposite. If anything, Bella's glowing face when she looked at me sparked a quiet satisfaction in her father, as did the easy and tender way our fingers fitted together when we joined hands. I revelled in the change, elated by the long-awaited acceptance.

"Ugh! Put a fork in me," Charlie grunted, after pushing away his empty plate. He glanced down at his daughter's plate, which was still covered with her mangled breakfast. "Aren't you eating, kid?"

Bella shook her head. "Chances are I'll get a punch to the gut in the next couple of hours. I don't want to throw up."

Charlie looked taken aback.

If anyone hurts her, I'll hurt them, I thought dangerously, grinding my teeth; but, of course, Bella would argue that it was all a part of the game.

Charlie dismissed the comment with a shake of his head. "What about you Edward? Not hungry?"

Nervous laughter washed up my throat. "No. No, I'm not."

That was the moment it happened—the moment I should have foreseen … the moment that held the potential to shatter everything.

Seamus leaned forwards to smirk down the table. "He's saving room for when we drink from the cup. Once the rest of us are done with it, we're going to fill it with blood for the vampires!"

The tension was instantaneous. As if ensnared by the merciless grip of winter, the whole world seemed to freeze. Charlie's eyes were wide as his head snapped up in Seamus' direction. Like Bella and my siblings, I gasped.

The senseless revelation leeched the colour from Charlie's cheeks, destroying his mellow expression in a heartbeat. A dozen different emotions washed over his face within the space of three seconds, everything from fear to outright anger. Slowly, he turned his burning eyes back on Bella and me. Beside him, Jacob looked both wary and smug.

"I think you had better explain," Charlie barked at his daughter. If the nearby Gryffindors hadn't been listening before, they were now.

Bella winced. "Um, surprise?" The muscles of her father's jaw and forehead twitched with stress as he waited for the witch to continue. "Dad, I … I don't really know what to say."

"That makes two of us," he seethed, before turning his eyes on me. "Well?"

Of all the rotten luck! Rosalie thought, scowling at Seamus, who, unable to hold her gaze, was staring down at his feet instead, feeling like a total imbecile.

I am a complete pillock.

With a sigh, I held Charlie's blistering stare, and pointed to my brother. "Emmett is still harbouring a grudge against the thing that nearly killed him in 1935. He likes to hunt bear; I prefer lion. Sometimes we hunt elk as well, but they're not as appealing as carnivores. At Hogwarts, we generally stick to dragon's blood."

I could practically hear the cogs working in Charlie's head while I explained. For the longest time, he couldn't say a word, but finally, after what seemed like a lifetime, he arranged his thoughts enough to voice them. "You eat animals."

"Yes."

Another long pause followed my response, in which time Charlie nodded, his shoulders seeming to loosen, though only in the slightest. "Guess I do too."

I felt the corners of my mouth twitch very slightly. That's it. Keep thinking that way.

"Y-you don't … kill people then?"

"No, Charlie. We're not like that."

He nodded again, before gnawing at his lip. His hard stare gradually softened as curiosity took hold. He was still wary, however, as he looked me over, head tilted slightly to the left. "Fangs?"

I chuckled. "No."

"Do you sleep in coffins?"

"I never sleep, but I wouldn't choose a coffin for a bed, even if I could, sir."

"Allergic to garlic?"

"No, sir."

"Holy water?"

I shook my head.

"Burned by the sun?"

"No. I sparkle in the sunlight, sir."

"You …" Charlie blinked, taken aback by my newest revelation. His mouth fell open and he sat a little straighter, before a frown formed on his face. "You … sparkle?"

"Yes, sir."

I wasn't entirely sure how Charlie would take the news. What I hadn't expected was that he would throw back his head and start roaring with laughter. I held Bella tightly as the sound of her father's hooting filled the hall, carrying over the voices of the students and teachers.

Everyone turned to stare at him. Even the Slytherins were curious as to what was going on. Charlie's eyes travelled around our group as he continued to cackle. When his gaze landed on Jasper, his laughter got louder; when his eyes found Emmett, he burst into tears, and started banging his fists against the table.

Emmett huffed, his nostrils flaring with indignation. Why is everyone forgetting the fact that we're the most dangerous species on the planet!

"Simple," I muttered, my voice barely audible. "Because we sparkle."

"Oh, that's a good one," Charlie chortled, wiping his eyes when his laughter finally began to subside. "That's—ha ha!—that's a really good one."

Although I was glad he was no longer staring daggers at me, the alternative wasn't much better. I had once been self-conscious about my reactions to sunlight, but, at the time, it had been for another reason entirely. I had assumed it would frighten Bella—that she would decide we were completely incompatible, and that I was something strange and terrible. While Charlie stared at me as though I'd suffered the worst fate known to man, however, shaking his head in sympathy, I felt new insecurities stirring within me, ones that were foreign. Sparkly skin, after all, could hardly be described as a terrifying manly quality. My brothers seemed to realise this too, and were equally embarrassed.

If anyone says anything, Emmett decided, I'll maintain that jealousy is at work. Sparkles plus vampirism equals babe magnet, Emmett, and don't you forget it, which of course you won't, because your memory is infallible. Yeah, that'll work … unless it's a woman taking the mickey. Huh. That would be a serious problemo…

Somehow, I managed to tune out my brother's internal monologue, so that I could concentrate on other things. Beside me, Bella shook with silent laughter.

"Not you as well."

"Sorry, Edward. At least you're pretty."

I groaned. "I had to go and open my big mouth, didn't I?"

The consolation was that Charlie convinced himself (without any additional input from me or the others) that my family was a mile away from the traditional vampires of horror movies, so much so that he didn't seem to care about what we ate to keep up our strength. He told me to my face that he couldn't imagine a more disgusting form of nourishment, but as long as humans didn't suffer as a result of our vampirism, he didn't really care. He'd learnt too much over the last couple of months to let this shock him, so he accepted what I was far quicker than I could ever have dreamed possible.

"You're not telling him the whole truth, bloodsucker," Jacob butted in, annoyed with Charlie's indifference. "What about the others out there? Have you forgotten about the leeches that tried to kill Bella?"

"I already know about those," Charlie said calmly. "Bells told me all about them at Christmas."

"And that doesn't bother you?" The Wolf gawked with incredulousness, evidently just as shocked as the rest of us by Charlie's unruffled demeanour.

"Well of course it does, Jake, but what am I to do about it? Humans kill too, and I can't stop that either. It doesn't mean I like it."

"But you still don't care that your daughter hangs out with vampires?"

Charlie snorted. "Jake, you're a werewolf, and you didn't seem too fussed when Bella—a witch I might add—hung out with you."

Jacob grunted, but took the hint and dropped the subject. No point anyway. She'll only bite my head off.

Bella frowned at her grumpy friend, who obviously hated the idea of giving in. "If I remember rightly, you promised not to interfere with this anymore, Jake. At Christmas, remember?"

Jacob smirked. "Old habits die hard, Bells. I couldn't resist. Plus, I—"

"This is getting boring," Emmett interjected, rolling of his eyes. "We've had this conversation a million times now!" He leaned forwards on the bench, casting his head from side to side to take in the Wolves. "Just so we're all clear, can we please establish the fact, once and for all, that Bella—a witch—is marrying Edward—a vampire; and unless she insists on walking down the aisle in a garbage bag, thus incurring the wrath of a hyper-death pixie—don't ask, Charlie—nothing, not even a pack of moody, pubescent Wolves, or a bride-eating Cyclops, or the chance of rain is going to stop them. Get me?"

With a penetrating stare, Emmett searched the faces of each member of our group, earning a dozen muttered replies of agreement. "Now," he said, folding his arms, "can we please start talking about Quidditch already? All this negativity is killing my high!"

Not exactly sure where that came from, thought Seth, but … "Ditto."

"I'll second that," offered Charlie, equally eager for a change in topic.

And that was that.

In truth, I couldn't blame Jacob; if it had been the other way around, I would have never stopped fighting for Bella. Still, I was glad when the focus of the discussion switched to tactics. The Wolves listened enthusiastically while Harry issued instructions and words of encouragement to his teammates.

"Girls, you know what you have to do, don't you?"

The Gryffindor Chasers nodded.

"This is our last chance to beat Slytherin. We won't get another. If they win today, we'll have to live with that fact for the rest of our lives, and there'll be no hope of settling the score. I don't know about you, but, personally, I think the idea is completely unacceptable."

"Agreed," Ron and Bella said together.

Harry nodded, his face set with a stony expression. "Right, then we're clear on the approach. We play like our lives depend on it. No holding back. No missed opportunities. No pain."

The fists of the players slammed against the table in unison, signalling their assent. One by one, they rose from the benches, preparing to exit the hall.

A moment later, I saw the Slytherin team get to their feet. In a tight line, they confidently strode down the aisle separating the tables, their smirks mimicked by the students they left behind. Daphne Greengrass and her sister, Astoria, both of whom had their eyes cast in Bella's direction, smiled coolly. The jeering of Pansy Parkinson and Millicent Bullstrode could be heard over the lively chatter of the other students. In a bid to shatter my fiancée's cool exterior, they targeted her with mocking words, evidently aware of the exact buttons they needed to press to get a reaction. Bella's arms shook with rage. It was clear that she was trying to ignore them, but that must have been about as easy as sitting at the centre of a swarm of wasps, and feigning indifference at the constant stinging.

"The whole team is completely pathetic," Pansy said, a wicked gleam in her eye as she inspected her nails with fake boredom. "Why anyone, Mudblood or not, would want their disgusting Muggle father to watch them lose is entirely beyond me."

My lightning reflexes were the only thing that stopped Bella from transforming the witch into something befitting of her character: a snake, maybe, or, better yet, pig slime.

"She's not worth it," I whispered, while Bella struggled against my hold.

I don't care. She crossed the line, Edward! Insulting me is one thing, but Charlie?

"I know, but a reaction is exactly what she wants. Bella, you're a threat. They'll do anything to get you out of the game. You know McGonagall will be very upset if she's forced to give you detention."

Although Charlie had failed to hear the reprehensible comment of the Slytherin female, preoccupied as he had been in chatting with Alice, his wary eyes were now completely glued to his daughter, whose anger set all the newcomers on edge, and some of the students too. The Wolves, of course, had heard the insult all too clearly. While half of the pack kept their anxious eyes on Bella, the others were turned in the direction of the guilty witch, who quickly blanched after becoming the focus of so many burning glares.

I continued to keep a safe hold on Bella, preventing her from snatching up her wand. She trembled with fury, her chest rising and falling at a rapid pace. Finally, however, she regained some measure of control, enough to summon a false mask of calm, and so I cautiously released her, my arms moving stiffly to my sides.

She needs to focus, Emmett decided, stepping up behind Bella. Gently, he touched her shoulder, but failing to anticipate the sudden contact, the witch flinched.

Emmett's face was incredibly cheerful as he glanced over her shoulder in the direction of the Slytherins. "Save some of that rage for the game, precious," he practically sang. "I won't be happy unless I see a few broken bones."

Part of me wanted to protest, but then I thought better of it and bit my tongue. As if anything I could say would stop the fouls. I might as well ask a lion to turn vegan. Despite my disapproval, I allowed the exchange to continue without interruption.

Bella, on the other hand, seemed to appreciate Emmett's encouragement, and returned his wicked grin with one of her own. "Aye-aye, coach."

"Good woman. Now," said my brother, pointing to the great doors of the hall, "get your bad self out there, Bells, and show 'em what happens when you mess with a Cullen."

The inspirational send-off given by the Quidditch fanatic reminded me of the favourite catchphrase of two of Bella's oldest friends. As I bid her farewell, conveying my wishes for good luck with a chaste kiss to her cheek, three glorious and unforgettable words roared in my head. No matter what the cost—no matter the lengths she would be forced to go to—the last and vital order of a once vivacious scoundrel would undoubtedly be fulfilled. One way or another, I knew without doubt that Bella—my incredible, breath-taking witch, whose cape and hair billowed out behind her as she marched from the room—would persistently and enthusiastically do her duty to remind all Hogwarts of Fred's legacy. If she succeeded, the outcome would be simple, and these words would never die: with joy in your heart and cheer on your face, proudly give them hell.

A rhythmic boom filled the stadium as we waited for the teams to make their way out. The students thumped their fists against the wooden railings, and stamped their feet against the floor, exercising their anticipation and impatience into thunderous sound.

Although Charlie and the Wolves had been allocated honorary seats in the teachers' box, they had requested that they instead be allowed to 'mingle' with the students; and so to my left sat Bella's father and the Quileutes. The spot we'd chosen was shaded from the sun. Jasper and I reasoned that it would be better for the players if we kept out of direct sunlight. It would make it far more difficult for the Seekers to detect the Snitch if they had our sparkly skin to contend with. Charlie and Seth joked that our reasoning sprung from male insecurities, which of course we denied completely. That hadn't prevented the sniggering on our walk to the Quidditch pitch. Both Bella's father and the young Wolf thought our glittering appearance hilarious. Jasper's response was along the lines of 'You wish you were this cool.'

As well as the newcomers, my siblings and I were joined by several human friends, including Hermione, Hagrid, Seamus, Dean, Neville and Luna, the last of whom was sporting her usual Gryffindor-versus-any-other-team-but-Ravenclaw headdress. The Wolves gawked in absolute fascination, especially Embry, who seemed quite taken with the peculiar witch.

"I do hope Gryffindor will triumph. Oh look! There's a cloud in the shape of a bobcat. It must be a sign."

Embry blinked moronically, and seemed unable to speak. At his hesitation, Luna whacked him around the head with her Quibbler magazine.

"Hey! What are you—"

"It's alright. I'm getting rid of them for you."

"Getting rid of what?" the wide-eyed Wolf panicked.

"The wrackspurts, of course! I recognise the signs." While Luna continued to bat Embry over the head, I turned my face into Rosalie's shoulder, who sat on my right, attempting to supress her own laughter.

"I don't understand!" Embry cried, receiving a thwack to the nose. Luna determinedly continued her attack. When she'd done with him, she turned her attention to the other Quileutes, who continued to gawk in the same way their friend had.

"Oh dear," said the witch in a dreamy fashion, "it looks like I've got my work cut out for me."

The hilarity of the situation was immense, and my friendly affection for Luna Lovegood soared to new heights. The Wolves had no idea how to react when their assailant began using their heads like the targets in whack-a-mole arcade game. Her face was scrunched with stubborn resolve and the utmost concentration, and I couldn't help but encourage her vendetta.

"You get those wrackspurts, Luna."

"Oh, I will."

I don't get it! thought Jacob, shielding his head. This chick is crazy!

And so it went on. Luna looked very proud of herself by the time she'd finished. Her Quibbler, unfortunately, was left in tatters, but she said it had been worth it, and I was inclined to agree. I laughed with my siblings while the visitors scratched their heads in total confusion. Eventually, however, our chuckles were interrupted by the sound of Emmett's deep voice, which rumbled through the air like thunder.

As always, he occupied a good portion of the front row up in the teachers' box, where he was eagerly awaiting the start of the game.

"And here they come, folks!" he cried as the Slytherin team confidently sauntered onto the pitch, broomsticks in hand. Their casual advance was nothing like the usual march of the Gryffindors, who always exited the changing rooms in the same tight and practiced formation: Harry at the head, the three Chasers behind him, and the remaining players at the rear—Ron and the two Beaters.

"The Slytherins exit the changing rooms in sloppy formation," Emmett commented, ignoring the reproachful prod my mother gave to his shoulder. "For the benefit of the newbies, here we have Draco Malfoy—the Slytherin captain and Seeker; the Chasers: Matthew Harper, Blaise Zabini and Arachne Blackhand; the Beaters: Octus Blackhand and Gregory Goyle; and the Keeper, Graham Pritchard."

The team received a tumult of applause from their house. The students of Gryffindor, Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff, on the other hand, countered the calls of support with cheerful booing.

"And here come the glorious reds!" Emmett cried to the joy of the crowds. The roar of the fans exploded through the stadium, and Charlie seemed in danger of hyperventilating.

"That's Bella!"he screamed, his hands tight on the railing. "Oh my god, that's Bella! That's Bella!"

Quill and Embry squealed in delight, while Jacob stared on in awed silence, clearly overwhelmed by the fierce expression worn by his best friend. There was a hint of gold in her eyes as she marched with fierce determination onto the pitch with her teammates. The Wolves noticed it too, but the shade was too subtle to be detected by weaker eyes.

Alice laughed darkly. Ada girl.

"The players take their position as Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy shake hands. My-my, that was awkward. They look like they've been force-fed rotten pickles. Now I've never tried pickles, but they smell disgusting."

"Emmett," I heard my mother sigh in the background, "you're getting off topic."

"Right you are, Mom. The suspense is at an all-time peak as the teams await the whistle."

No kidding, I wanted to scream. Personally, I was a nervous wreck. If I had been in the habit of biting my finger nails, I'd have none left by this point. Charlie was in a similar boat; his brow was sweaty, and he kept fidgeting with his hands.

"Not ter worry," Hagrid told him with a cheerful pat to the back. Charlie blinked up at the enormous man, mesmerised by his size, but not so affected that it frightened him. The half-giant grinned and pointed to Bella. "She's a tough un y'know. If there's anyone that should be frightened, it's the Slytherins. If I 'ad a galleon for every time Bella had put one o' them lads in the hospital wing, Gringott's would 'av a blummin hard time findin' a vault big enough."

The police chief looked horrified, much to Hagrid's confusion. For Charlie's sake, I hoped that the subject would go no further, but Jacob argued that Bella wouldn't hurt a fly, which, naturally, was met by raucous laughter from Seamus and Dean.

"Just you wait, mate," Seamus chortled. "Quidditch is always rough, like, but Gryffindor-Slytherin is a whole other level. Save it until the final whistle, and then tell us that Hells-Bells wouldn't hurt a fly."

My brother and sisters looked just as wary as Charlie and the Quileutes as we turned our gaze back down onto the pitch. By the looks of things, the Chasers were each choosing an opponent. Viola had her sights set on Arachne, a tall, ebony-haired fifth year with wiry limbs, who shared the same pinched features as those of her twin brother, Octus. Ginny had chosen Harper, and Bella was busy staring down Blaise. She seemed to have applied a bit of make-up during her time in the changing rooms. I had a feeling that it was all just another sneaky tactic she was employing to give Gryffindor an advantage. Blaise harboured a secret crush for her after all, a fact that Bella was obviously exploiting.

"I love it," Rosalie cackled lowly. "Poor Blaise. I almost feel sorry for him."

Jasper shook his head. She really does have no conscience when it comes to Quidditch, does she?

"Nope." I would have loved to catch a glimpse of Bella's thoughts in that moment, but her mind was on complete lockdown; so, instead, I jumped into her rival's head, whose hidden emotion failed to match the aversion his countenance and body language suggested. Blaise's dark eyes were narrowed with feigned loathing as he directed them at Bella.

"I've been waiting a long time for this, Mudblood," he growled. But, hell, she's beautiful!

Bella threw back her head and laughed, thereby drawing attention to the creamy skin of her throat. "Oh, I know. Believe me, the feeling is completely mutual," she purred, once her laughter had died away. "There's a bed in the hospital wing with your name on it."

"If I'm going, I'm taking you with me."

At Bella's suggestive wink, Blaise gawked like an idiot. The Wolves too, all of whom heard the exchange over the roar of the arena, stared down at the pair in outright shock. When Jacob's eyes flitted to mine, I merely shrugged.

"Quidditch equals shameless strategies."

The Wolf scoffed. "Now there's an understatement."

Unfortunately for the Gryffindor Chaser, her opponent quickly came to his senses. Come on, Blaise. You're not falling for this! This is how she plays!

The wizard's eyes narrowed defiantly, and the realisation that her scheme had failed caused a similar expression to creep onto Bella's face. With her flirtatious manner removed, cold ambition took its place.

"Now," called Madam Hooch, "I shouldn't have to tell you to forget any dirty tricks you've planned for this match, but since this is Gryffindor versus Slytherin, I'm going to do it anyway. I want a good, clean game! Is that understood?"

Not going to happen, thought Arachne, whose face was set with a permanent scowl. This is the year of the snake.

"Oooooh, this is going to be juicy, ladies and gentlemen," Emmett chuckled as he surveyed the faces of the players. "If looks could kill, we'd be out of a game right now. Goyle's nostrils are flaring so widely that the Gryffindors might end up mistaking them for the goal hoops."

The Wolves guffawed.

"Emmett!" my mother cried.

"Mind you, his head is so round that they might mistake it for the Quaffle."

"EMMETT MCCARTY CULLEN!"

"Or preferably, a Bludger. Then Amicus or Jimmy can show us their swings."

"So help me, young man!"

"I'm a vampire and even I'm having trouble telling the difference."

"Unless you're looking for summer voluntary work at the Seattle Home for the Elderly, Emmett, I suggest you wise up!"

If my brother could have blanched, he most certainly would have. "Oh and whad'ya know, I had something in my eye. My mistake, ladies and gentlemen. It is most definitely a head."

After the first few minutes of the bizarre commentary, Charlie threw me a look as if to say 'Is he for real?' to which I responded with a shrug. I was beyond trying to understand Emmett's infantile ways. Obviously his observations today would be extremely biased, as they always were, but since it was his mission to rile up the Slytherins and give Gryffindor the advantage (if only by a miniscule amount), I would continue to be grateful for his efforts. Besides, things were certainly more entertaining with Emmett commentating.

"The players mount their brooms," he said excitedly, "while Madam Hooch prepares to release the balls. They're sizing one another up. Look at those thighs—all coiled to spring. God, this is tense!"

"You're going down, Swan," Blaise spat, eyes only for Bella, who sneered back in delight.

"You first."

The sound of the whistle was lost in the roar of the audience. The players snarled as they launched into the air.

"AND THEY'RE OFF!" screamed a joyous Emmett, barely able to contain himself. "And holy hell, look at that! Violence in first three seconds of the game as Bella Swan and Ginny Weasley collide with Slytherin Chasers Blaise Zabini and Matthew Harper!"

Sure enough, the rivals had done precisely that. To give their youngest players the best chance to seize the Quaffle, the experienced players of both teams had purposefully slammed directly into their opponents. It all unfolded so quickly that Madam Hooch had no way of telling exactly what happened, but when Bella ducked away, Blaise was left sporting a bloody nose. Luckily, my eyesight was sharp enough that I didn't miss the subtle head-butt.

Did she just do that! Rosalie wondered, totally flabbergasted. I can't believe she just did that!

"Edward," said Jasper, calmly, "something tells me the warnings about this match weren't exaggerated."

"No kidding, Sherlock."

Emmett's cries continued to sound over the cheers of the students. "The agile Viola Knight beats Arachne Blackhand to the ball, snatching it from the air and nimbly dodging her opponent! Ginny Weasley and Swan are hot on her tail as she soars towards the Slytherin hoops, joining her in the arrowhead formation! Harper looks as if he's in pain as he rolls along the pitch like a beer keg after falling off his broom. Zabini, too, is out of the game for now as he descends to ground level to get his busted nose fixed before he passes out from blood loss. What a pansy."

My mother's growls sounded in the background.

"Once again," my brother grinned, "the men, ahemgirlyboys—"

"Emmett!"

"—pardon me, small case of Itstrueitis—the boys have been put to shame by the women, who clearly have more guts and talent in one little finger than—"

After the last two Gryffindor games, Esme had prepared for what she called 'Emmett's inappropriate commentary', and whacked my brother around the head with a metal baseball bat. Although left unhurt, Emmett took the hint.

"Alright, alright. Slytherin is left with only one Chaser as the ambitious efforts to take the Gryffindor girls out of the game backfire! Viola rockets towards the Keeper, defended by her teammates on either side. Graham Pritchard looks nervous, and rightly so—here comes Knight—she's in range she shoots aaaaand—SCORE! TEN POINTS TO GRYFFINDOR! PRITCHARD NEVER HAD A CHANCE!"

An army of fists shot into the air as three quarters of the audience roared in delight. With the first ten points secured in less than twenty seconds, the Gryffindors, Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs were completely encouraged. Victory was in no way impossible! Rosalie flung her arm over my shoulder as she cheered, and I returned the gesture, hugging her to my side in brotherly fashion.

"Hell yeah!" cried Jared, executing a fist-pump. "Woooooooooooh!"

Jacob turned to grin at Charlie, whose cheeks were flushed with excitement. "That was seriously awesome."

"Awesome," nodded Bella's dad.

"Looks like the Slytherins are complaining to the referee," Emmett noted crossly as Malfoy and Harper argued with Madam Hooch. "Of course, anyone with a pair of eyes would say there are no grounds to disallow the goal." I was inclined to agree with my brother, not because I was totally biased, which I was, but because I knew full-well that the Slytherins were just as guilty when it came to blatching. The Gryffindors might have started the game with the intent to collide, but so had their rivals. As far as I was concerned, the fouls cancelled each other out. Madam Hooch seemed to be of the same opinion, because she allowed the goal, subsequently receiving a chorus of cheers from the Gryffindor supporters.

"The ball is back in play now. Arachne Blackhand to Harper, Harper to Zabini. Here comes Ginny Weasley, heading straight for Blaise who drops low to avoid the hit and—oooh, clearly not low enough ladies and gents, because the witch seems to have accidentally kicked the poorly coordinated wizard right in the sniffer! That's two to Gryffindor, nil to Zabini's nose. Your turn next, Viola."

"Emmett!"

"Sorry, Mom." Not. "Ooh, and it looks like I'm not the only one getting a telling off! Madam Hooch awards a penalty to Slytherin for Ginny's foul. Here's the first test for her brother—COME ON, RON—who, according to legend, never lets the Quaffle in!"

As planned, my brother's words, like a match to gunpowder, instantly propelled the Gryffindors, Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs into united song.

"Weasley can save anything,

He never leaves a single ring,

That's why Gryffindors all sing:

Weasley is our King!"

The students continued to chant as Harper prepared to take the penalty. Ron hovered steadily in front of the centre hoop, and locked stares with the Slytherin Chaser, whose chest was rapidly rising and falling, a product of increased adrenaline.

Rosalie's grip was so forceful that it would have crushed a human to pieces had she instead been embracing a mortal. As things were, I was just as anxious for the Gryffindor Keeper, and clutched her just as tightly.

"This is it—Harper speeds forwards—left or right? He shoots right, AND SO DOES RON—THE SCORE REMAINS TEN-NIL TO GRYFFINDOR!"

"HELL YEAH!" the Wolves screamed in unison, while I high-fived my sister. Our heads turned to Hermione, who was grinning like a Cheshire cat, brown eyes twinkling brightly as she stared up at Ron.

Wow. Amazing. Hermione, he's a keeper. The witch chuckled at her own joke. Her boyfriend, meanwhile, was conducting the crowds with a wave of his arms as they continued to sing the Weasley victory song.

"And that, everyone," Emmett grinned, "is why Weasley is our king. Keep 'em coming, Ron! The Quaffle is back in play again—Knight to Swan—Swan soars over Harper, but ducks low at the last second and gives the Slytherin player the tail end of her broom! Looks like Harper can't see!"

Charlie's eyes were the size of golf balls as we watched the scene unfold. His daughter had soared over her opponents head, but descended quickly at the last second. The twigs making up her tail of her broom had subsequently scratched Harper across the face as he turned, getting him right in the eyes. Madam Hooch had to help the injured player down to the pitch, because he couldn't make anything out through his watery vision.

"Swan to Ginny Weasley. She crosses the centre line, and here come the Slytherins. Ginny to Swan and—oooooh!"

My fingers tightened on the rail as Bella took a Bludger to the head. It only clipped her left temple, but the blow was hard enough that it left a bloody cut.

"Swans flies forwards, looking dazed—holy hell, please don't fall off your broom, Bella. Knight catches up with her, ready to take the ball. Jimmy Peakes sends a Bludger in the right direction, scattering the Slytherins who quickly recover and soar towards Knight, aware that Swan will have to—What's this!" Up in the sky, Bella's velocity rocketed.

Ha! Rosalie grinned. What a sneak! She was faking it.

"Swan speeds her advance with a smile that says it all!" My brother laughed. "The Slytherins have no way of catching the Gryffindor trickster, whom, it appears, is not about to have a concussion. She zooms towards the Slytherin hoops, where Pritchard looks like he's about to wet himself—"

The entire stadium seemed to inhale at precisely the same moment as Bella flew forwards, her teeth bared in an elated, yet slightly sadistic, grin, the Quaffle neatly tucked under her arm.

"COME ON, BELLA!" screamed Charlie.

"YOU CAN DO IT!" Jacob cried.

"KILL HIM!" Alice shrieked, hanging as far over the rail as Jasper would allow.

"WILL SHE, WON'T SHE? THIS IS IT! SWAN SWOOPS IN, LOOKING FIERCE, EYES ON THE PRIZE, AAAND … SCOOOOOOOOOOOOOOORE!" Emmett raved fanatically. "THAT'S TWENTY-NIL TO GRYFFINDOR! The mischievous Bella Swan takes the second goal of the game."

Charlie and the Quileutes were squealing like girls for a full minute following Bella's latest triumph. Her father and Seth had their arms around one another, and bounced giddily on the spot like they were trying to take off. They looked like a couple of pogo-sticks, and I couldn't help but laugh at the sight. My eyes found my empathic brother, who was obviously feeding off the excitement of the crowd. He and his tiny lover caught my gaze, and together, we each executed a satisfying fist-pump.

There were more opportunities for these as the game went on. Gryffindor continued to outplay Slytherin in every respect, and the reds managed to secure eighty points before their opponents scored any.

Draco realised that his team needed to up their game. The match had only been going for thirty minutes, and already a victory from Gryffindor seemed possible.

"This is getting embarrassing," he spat at Blaise, swooping down from his high position. "At this rate, they'll be in a position to catch the Snitch and win! Do something!"

"Like what?"

"I don't know. Anything! Whatever it takes to win! You're up against a bunch of girls for crying out loud. Put them out of the game for all I care. Just do it!" And with that, he retreated back to his earlier position, his stare flicking briefly to Harry, who was lost in deep concentration. Malfoy's orders caused my insides to sizzle. The only thing holding back the guttural snarl contained in my chest was the knowledge that Bella was more than capable of defending herself on a broom. I hoped she'd go all out to give the Slytherins precisely what they deserved.

"It's war on the Quidditch pitch, ladies and gentlemen. A cheating Octus attempts to take out Ginny Weasley with a swing of his bat, but fails to notice the Bludger sent at him by Amicus Fortison. Octus takes a hit to the shoulder and subsequently bashes into his twin sister, Arachne. This gives Ginny an opening. She storms the pitch, passing to Kni—oh, but the Quaffle is intercepted by Zabini! Zabini hurtles back down the pitch, along the left side, with only a Beater and the Keeper to stop him! Yet here comes Swan, rocketing towards him at a wicked one-fifty! Can Zabini make it in time! Ten feet ahead of Bella, forty from the scoring area—Swan comes in quick—she's hot on him now—the players are level!"

My heart was in my stomach. I could barely stand to watch, yet I couldn't look away either. All of a sudden, the Gryffindor Chaser zoomed forwards and swerved to the left, not actually colliding with her opponent, but shocking him enough to have an effect. The move was so swift and unexpected that Blaise swerved too, terrified of a collision.

With no time to brake, Blaise's trajectory meant that he had nowhere to go but into the stands. Reflexively, his hand snatched the Firebolt's handle, knuckles turning white as he took her down with him.

"FOUL! That was a foul if ever I saw one!" Emmett bellowed. "What a dirty move! Do him for blurting, ref!"

Like my enraged brother, the Wolves, Charlie, and my siblings snarled viciously at the game's most recent development. I, meanwhile, was shrieking profanities, completely unable to contain my fury.

The students screamed and scattered as the flyers went plummeting down together. I stared on in horror as Bella collided with the wooden railing alongside her enemy. It splintered with the force of the impact, snapping instantly, leaving nothing else between my mate and the bleachers. She crashed against the floor with a grunt. The surrounding students—Ravenclaws, thankfully—winced in unison as her face smacked into the wood.

Jasper struggled to restrain the death-pixie as she battled against his hold. Her eyes were crazed and she cackled like a psychopath. "He's a deadman! A deadman! Let me at him! I'm gonna shove his head where the sun don't shine!"

"No, you're not."

"Oh, yes I am! Gonads for earrings I tell you!"

Jasper groaned. "Sweet Lord."

Bella seemed to share my sister's attitude. Through the eyes of Terry Boot, I watched as she spat out a mouthful of blood and her newly grown molar. Savage flames danced behind the gold of her eyes as she stared down at her lost tooth. She looked so incredibly irate as she snatched it up from the coalescing pool of crimson fluid that I feared spontaneous combustion.

"GOD DAMN IT!" she roared, turning on her rival. "I ONLY JUST GOT THAT!"

Through a newly battered nose, which was once again bleeding profusely, Blaise snorted. His laughter was clearly the final straw as far as Bella was concerned, because a primitive scream suddenly broke free of her chest, and she launched herself at the boy, impatient for violence.

"What the—"

"You're going to pay for this!"

"ARGH!"

Madam Hooch swooped in from the sky then, like a hawk locked onto its target. Unfortunately, the Ravenclaws were gathered so tightly, eager as they were to watch the scuffle play out, that the referee couldn't see or reach the two injured Chasers, who were both currently seeing red. "What's going on here? You—move aside! What's going on?"

I shouldn't like this. Blaise thought as Bella struggled above him, straddling his hips and she gripped the collar of his sweater

A snarl ripped up my throat, not only because he was thinking too much about how closely her body was pressed against his, but also because he abruptly aimed a forceful punch to her gut. Bella grunted, and kneed him where it hurt. Luckily, she had time to speedily roll to one side before Madam Hooch could break through the line of excited teenagers.

"What's going on here?" the teacher demanded, her yellow gaze shifting from one player to the other. When she caught sight of Blaise, who had scrunched himself into a tight ball and was whimpering like a puppy, she shook her head and tutted. "Oh dear, looks like you had a poor landing, Zabini."

The wizard moaned and pointed to Bella.

"Now, now, don't blame Swan for this. That move was perfectly sound. You're the one who committed the foul. You know full well you're not meant to grab another player's broom. Come on, let's get you off to sick bay. Madam Pomfrey can have a look at you while Swan takes a penalty."

Panic sparked in Blaise's eyes as the witch went to help him up. Frantically, he shook his head and pointed to Bella again, desperately attempting to convey his meaning. "She-she—"

"Swan, if you feel well enough to take the shot, I suggest you get yourself back in the air; otherwise, follow me down."

"That's alright, Madam Hooch. I think I'll be OK."

The referee nodded. Bella's gentle smile gave nothing away. The moment the teacher had her back turned, however, the fake layer of innocence dissolved, leaving in its place a grin both wicked and victorious, one with the power to set her rival seething. The witch waved unrepentantly as Blaise glared at her from over his shoulder, before taking off after Madam Hooch.

Emmett's chortling filled the arena as the commotion came to an end. "Not exactly sure what happened there," he chuckled. "Bella seems to have lost another tooth, but she'll no doubt be able to regrow it later. Zabini and the Slytherins look sour as she shoots into the air to take a penalty for Gryffindor, following the atrocious foul committed by the rival Chaser."

After passing the fuming Chaser off to the school nurse, whose presence was a result of the recent lack of student casualties, Madam Hooch soared back into the air to referee the game.

"Pritchard once again looks shaky on his broom," Emmett commented, "unlike his opponent, who, despite her recent injuries, seems hungrier for victory than ever."

Unable to breathe, much like my brother and sisters, I waited for Bella to take the shot. In the flurry of chanting and waving fans, we stood stock-still, as durable and immobile as ancient speleothems.

Charlie adopted a stance reminiscent of a man of devout faith. With clasped hands tucked beneath his chin, his lips trembled in silent prayer, thus providing a very clear contrast between himself and his youthful companions, whose bellowing cries overpowered many of the cheers and screams of the surrounding humans.

Up in the air, Bella tensed. Ever so slightly, she leaned forwards on her broom, the subtle shift revealing the ridges of her shoulder-blades. To anyone with less than perfect eyesight, the adjustment would seem innocent enough; a vampire, however, would not mistake the catlike movement, nor the ruthless golden stare, for anything less than the resolve of a waking predator. The claws were out, and Pritchard was prey.

"It's white-knuckles for Gryffindor and Slytherin players alike now folks," Emmett observed as Madam Hooch blew her whistle. "And the ref's given the go ahead—off speeds Swan—Pritchard trembles—Swan shoots—"

"YEEEEEEEAH!" my sister squealed in my ear. I blinked in a daze. Over to the left, a few of the Wolves had decided they'd had enough of their clothes.

"BOOYAH!" a bare-chested Jared cried, waving a red flannel shirt above his head like a flag. "THAT'S WHAT I'M TALKING ABOUT!"

Embry followed suit, but his attention quickly turned to Luna, who was far too immersed in the asparagus-shaped cloud to realise he was flexing for her benefit.

Charlie patted me roughly on the back, forgetting the potential injuries he could earn as a result. I was far too elated to think to apologise when he subsequently winced, and continued to grin manically up at my fiancée as she loop-the-looped past the Blackhand twins and a scowling Goyle.

"Another awesome shot by Bella Swan," my brother chuckled. "Was there ever any doubt? Of course not. Gryffindor lead with ninety points to ten. Ha! Another thirty points and Potter will be able to go after the Snitch."

Come on, girls, thought Harry, staring down at his team from a superior altitude.

Emmett's reminder of the score seemed to give the Slytherins the motivation they'd been lacking. Just as Viola was about to score another goal for Gryffindor, Harper shot up from ground level like a speeding rocket and intercepted the Quaffle. From there, it went to Arachne, then to Blaise, who passed back to Harper before dodging a Bludger sent by Jimmy Peakes. Goyle swung for Ginny to throw her off course, leaving only Viola and Bella in the Chaser's path. He zoomed towards them; similarly, they charged in his direction. The other Slytherins joined his advance, before speeding ahead to cut off the girls.

"They're going to crash!" Jacob screeched, grabbing Charlie's arm. Bella's father blanched, his mouth agape. Rosalie's vice-like grip almost crushed my hand as we watched the scene unfold.

Viola threw an unsure glance at her team-mate. What do we do?

"Don't pull out, Vi!" Bella screamed over the whoosh of the wind. "We're better!"

"YES, YOU ARE!" Emmett cried, egging them on, much to the confusion of every other human. "Broken bones, remember? BROKEN BONES!"

Indeed, Slytherin had upped their game, but would Gryffindor fail to meet the challenge? Pfft!

The Chasers sped. Closer and closer they came to collision.

"Three against two, and here comes Peakes and Fortison plus the Slytherin Beaters, all ready to join their teammates! The Slytherins speed over the centre line!"

With her hair flaring out wildly behind her, my screaming Bella pulled away from her team, pushing the Firebolt as fast as it would go. Harper shrieked when he realised she wouldn't pull up, but Bella had no intention of crashing into the boy. She shot to the left at the very last second, but not before throwing a punch at the Quaffle, forcing it from Harper's grip.

"Stupid mudblood!" Octus screeched, slamming his bat into the handle of Bella's broom as she passed.

Two things happened then. The good news: Ginny dived as the Quaffle plunged through the air, intercepting it for Gryffindor; the horrid news: Bella's broom was propelled into a spin, with her still on it! Like a Catherine wheel, the girl went whirling chaotically through the air, her features a blur as she lost all control.

Futile screams issued from the nearby Gryffindors as they pleaded with the witch to 'hold on', the terror suspended. Only my brother stood a chance of being heard though.

"Come on, Bells. You control the broom, not the other way around. Use the Force!" he growled.

What the hell is he going on about? Seamus frowned, momentarily distracted by Emmett's inane command.

Up in the sky though, a peal of high, ringing laughter shattered the heavy trepidation. Bella's hands tightened on the Firebolt's handle, commanding it to increase its speed, until the thrust was so great that it blasted her out of the deadly rotations. Relief and delight swept through the crowds of Gryffindors, Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs as the witch executed a graceful turn in mid-air, grinning like a hungry shark as her eyes landed on the enemy Chasers.

"Swan regains control of her broom," Emmett blared, "just in time to assist Ginny and Viola, who are currently being pursued by the angry Slytherin Chasers!"

The Firebolt whistled as it cut through the air, surging ever-faster towards the others. Ginny and Viola beamed as their team-mate flew to defend them.

"Nice one, Bella!" Ginny cried, passing the ball to Viola, before turning to join the attack. Viola, on the other hand, powered on ahead towards Pritchard while her comrades hurtled in the opposite direction.

With a thundering shout, Amicus cracked his bat against an oncoming Bludger—a gift from Goyle—sending it straight for Arachne, who howled as it smashed into her left shoulder. In the same moment, Ginny swerved in front of Blaise, who subsequently veered off course, while Bella sped towards Harper. When the players were level, Bella decided to make use of an old trick. The lioness erupted to the surface, her teeth fully displayed as her lips curled back in fury, through which there ripped an ear-splitting roar.

Harper yelped. In his terror, he swerved abruptly, forgetting about the tower that lay directly to the right. He yelled again as he realised what he'd done, but was silenced a second later when he crashed into the structure.

Emmett was enraptured by the whole thing. He looked joyous. "Viola speeds towards the Slytherin hoops, completely unobstructed after her team-mates take out the opposition! There's no one to challenge her now except Pritchard, and let's face it, he's a bit of a drip—"

"Watch it, Emmett," my mother growled.

"Much like Goyle."

"EMMETT!"

"Sorry, Mom. You're right; I was wrong. Goyle is more like Shrek."

"I'm warning you… "

"For those of you who don't know, Shrek is a fat ogre."

"THAT IS IT! DETENTION!"

"Might as well say what I like now then—AND SCORE!" Emmett laughed. "Exactly as I thought. Bella and Ginny high-five as little Viola takes another ten points for Gryffindor."

Nothing made sense anymore. The world had been tipped on its axes; otherwise, why would Jasper and I be squealing like excited schoolgirls, giggling profusely, while Rosalie and Alice directed vulgar chants at the Slytherin quarter of the arena?

"And the Quaf—ARRRRRRRRGH! MALFOY HAS SPOTTED THE SNITCH!" my brother shrieked, triggering a chorus of gasps from the spectators; and then, like the ripples of an atomic blast, pandemonium exploded through the stadium, forcing the chaotic gamut of human emotion upon the watching crowds. Untainted horror battled against the hopeful screams of the Slytherins as Gryffindors, Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs cried out in united panic.

"STOP HIM!" Alice and Jared screeched in unison as Draco plunged towards the tiny golden ball hovering just behind Amicus' right ear.

No, no, no! Harry panicked, racing after his rival.

Up in the sky, the other players were motionless. They watched in frozen silence as Draco threw out his hand, grinning like a mad man and surging ever closer to victory. For the smallest flash of time, Amicus resembled a trembling fawn, his hazel eyes wide with alarm as he stared up at the Seeker hurtling towards him with insane velocity; and then, as if a switch had been flipped behind the Beater's eyes, that childish uncertainty morphed into something great and inspiring.

His mind was a black hole, far too powerful to resist. I welcomed the pull, and allowed myself to be sucked into his thoughts, through which I saw everything play out from the best possible angle.

Amicus detected the fluttering by his ear. He saw the flaming excitement in Draco's eyes. He tasted the suffocating fear of his peers as it pressed in on him from all sides. More importantly, he felt the heavy weight of his team's expectations. He felt that same expectation forcing back his arm until it was raised high in the air. He felt it ripple through every sinew of tissue like an electric current, commanding him to grip his bat that little bit tighter.

Mine! Draco grinned, five metres from the Snitch.

Amicus sneered. Not today, mate.

And with that, he swung his bat through the air, smashing it into Draco's reaching arm.

The wizard grunted, dropping it to his side in shock as he gritted his teeth against the sharp pain. I winced when one collided with the other, but Amicus was utterly free of regret, regardless of his body's protests as he and Malfoy tumbled onto the grassy pitch together.

Harry pulled up a second later, and the glittering ball zoomed away, making itself invisible once again to the eyes of the humans.

Madam Hooch looked as if she'd been pumped full of Botox when she swooped in from the skies. Her jaw was locked tighter than a vice, and her eyes were so incredibly wide that the white around her irises was completely visible. "You've got some explaining to do, Fortison! What on earth was that?"

Amicus groaned, rubbing his head. "Self defence?"

"Pfft! I'm not an idiot, Fortison. That was a terrible stunt you just pulled."

"Worked though," chuckled Emmett.

"I've no choice but to penalise you," the referee announced, grabbing her whistle. "A penalty to Slytherin!"

The Slytherins weren't satisfied with Hooch's decision, and demanded that she announce them the winners after the obvious display of cheating. However, the witch dismissed their protests with a flick of her hand, and responded with a mere 'that's Quidditch', much to the displeasure of the Greengrass sisters, who were using their wands to catapult conjured bricks at Gryffindor flyers. The only thing that stopped their tirade was Madam Hooch's threat to award a penalty to Gryffindor. That didn't put an end to the Slytherins' displeasure though, so when Zabini managed to score for his team, successfully putting the Quaffle through the left hoop, his achievement was only met with mild applause.

"Good l'il Amicus," Hagrid clapped, his eyes on the smiling Beater, who had once again taken to the air. "Although, he's not that small any more, is he? Shootin' up like a bean pole, that young un is. I'll bet yer five galleons he's captain in a couple o' years."

"I don't doubt you," I responded, without taking my eyes off the boy in question. Aside from a nasty graze above his right eye, he looked fine, though the same couldn't be said for Draco, who looked as if he'd been force-fed sour grapes.

The score was one hundred points to twenty, giving Gryffindor an eighty point lead. The team needed to increase that by thirty points before Harry could catch the Snitch, so the pressure was still on.

Ginny was the next to score. The Chasers continued to pass the ball, swerving like eagles as they fought their way past the enemy players and dodged oncoming Bludgers. Charlie's teary eyes glittered in the light of the sun, harnessing its warmth as his daughter scored again for her team. With only ten points needed to equalise, the girls chose their moment to unleash Gryffindor's secret weapon.

"Knight thunders down the pitch, the Quaffle tucked neatly under her arm. The Slytherin Chasers are heading straight for her, and in sweep Ginny and Swan with Fortison and Peakes."

Their flight was precise. Like fighter jets, they surged across the sky, the air cheering as they cut through it. The sound was coupled with gasps of amazement as the five players flew in perfect synchronisation, Bella and Ginny spiralling around the youngest Chaser, while the Beaters covered the front and rear.

"LADIES AND GENTLEWIZARDS," my brother screamed, "THE COBY CORKSCREW!"

The Slytherins were just as flabbergasted as the rest of us. None of the players knew how to react to the practised move. They couldn't get to the Quaffle, not unless they managed to get a Bludger past Jimmy or Amicus. Harper tried to break the ranks with a charge, but he didn't have the courage to follow through, and halted in mid-air while the Gryffindors torpedoed down the pitch. A second before Viola reached the scoring area, the others pulled away, nimbly flipping out of their formation.

The roar of the Gryffindors was incredible as little Viola flung the Quaffle past Pritchard, who accidentally crashed into one of the hoops.

I barely registered the fact that I was bouncing up and down like a pogo-stick. I couldn't have cared less how ridiculous I looked, nor could my sisters or brother, or Charlie, or the Wolves, or the witches and wizards standing nearby. Seamus was so excited that he grabbed Jared's face and placed a big wet kiss on his cheek. Jared looked horrified.

"That's how you do it!" Seth cried, waving his shirt.

Emmett seemed to agree. "As you lot say, that was bloody brilliant! It's a level playing field now as Viola Knight clinches the crucial goal for her team, aided by the superb flying skills of Bella Swan and Ginny Weasley."

They did it, Edward, Rosalie grinned, squeezing my shoulder. They actually did it!

I nodded, speechless.

If only Alice had lost her tongue too.

Gryffindor till I die!

Gryffindor till I die!

I know I am, I'm sure I am,

Gryffindor till I die!

It didn't stop there either

You thought you had us down, boys.

What's with the sad frowns, boys?

You're witherin', poor Slytherin,

You so don't have us down!

There were some that she even managed to get others to sing along to, not that it was difficult to learn the words. They just needed the correct tune …

Gryffindor, Gryffindor, Gryffindor!

Gryffindor, Gryffindor, Gryffindor!

Gryffindor, Gryffindor, Gryffindor!

Gryffindor!

Gryffindor!

Gryffindor, Gryffindor, Gryffindor!

And so it went on.

Slytherin tried to compete with their own chants, but they were like whispers under static, and were completely overwhelmed by the combined efforts of Gryffindor, Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw. The songs were like energy, spells in their own right. The longer they went on, the more they nourished the red-robed players. Physical fatigue had no hold on them; it was washed away by the music created by the spectators.

Charlie sang louder than anyone, but he certainly had some competition. Seamus, Dean and Neville were doing a decent job, and stood with their arms cast over one another's shoulders. Lavender Brown, who was standing two rows in front with Bayle Wishart, demonstrated high levels of enthusiasm, too, her high voice easily discernible in the din. With her boyfriend's arms wrapped around her waist, she swayed from side to side, her arms stroking the air above her.

Five additional goals were scored in the next fifteen minutes. The Slytherin players were furious. They took twenty points for their team, resorting to the most ignoble means possible. The Gryffindors gave as good as they got, of course. Beaters' bats were flying everywhere, limbs were thrown this way and that in an attempt to injure other players, and four out of five goals were a result of penalties.

The Chasers, Beaters, and Keepers had done their part it seemed. They had been playing for two and a quarter hours, and now everyone, whether Gryffindor or Slytherin, was counting on the Seekers to bring it home.

I scanned the arena for signs of the Snitch, searching for the molten glimmer that would indicate its whereabouts. Twenty metres to the left of the centre line, a sudden sparkle caught my attention. There it was, fluttering lazily forty feet above the emerald pitch, reflecting the brilliant summer light. Regardless of space and setting, it was always easy for any vampire to locate a Snitch. Our eyesight was so developed that detection was never a problem for us.

Beside me, Rosalie worried her lip as she watched Harry. The Gryffindor captain was looking in the wrong direction, his eyes wandering over the other half of the field, unlike Draco, who surged forwards all of a sudden, diving like an eagle after his prize.

As Emmett began raving once more, propelled into hysterical screams by the alerted Seeker, all other players aside from Harry came to an abrupt halt. This time, no one obstructed Draco's line of flight. Bella was the closest, suspended in mid-air twenty feet from the Snitch, the Quaffle tucked tightly beneath her arm.

I saw her eyes land on the lightning quick Slytherin—practically a blur as white-blond merged into green—and marvelled as gold bled out from her narrowing black pupils. The shift in her mind was the slightest imaginable, but even so, it was enough. The sudden crack in her shield allowed me entrance, and I certainly didn't hesitate.

The Quaffle slid from Bella's grasp, just as her vision snapped to the Snitch. When she realised the difference in distance between Harry and Draco, her stomach lurched.

He'll never make it!

"Oh, no," Rosalie groaned, sensing defeat.

Hermione shrieked, her face a mask of horror. "Bella, look out!"

Everything happened so fast after that. Bella realised the problem in the same moment that I did. Just as Draco thundered after the Snitch, a Bludger was heading straight for her.

She had just enough time to move out of the way—to fly out of the missile's path … but she didn't. Instead, she froze, and my heart dropped like a brick.

"Yes!" cried Draco, so close now.

But Bella was looking the other way, her eyes on the Bludger. Jasper gasped beside me, his mouth falling open. Mine did the same when I realised why. What I had mistaken for fear in those big golden orbs was something else entirely.

Determination.

One of Bella's hands gripped her broom; the other swung back behind her head.

Draco was twenty feet from the Snitch.

Bella smiled.

Fifteen feet now.

Bella screamed.

Ten feet from success.

Bella swung. Her feral roar ripped through the air like a war cry as she threw her arm forward into the path of the merciless Bludger. A painful crunch and a snap clawed suddenly at my ears as the side of her fist smashed into the ball, sending it flying back in a new direction.

Five feet from the end was when it all came crashing gloriously down for Draco Malfoy and Slytherin house. The Bludger slammed into his side, the sheer force of the impact blasting him sideways as easily as it would a bowling pin.

The window was there, and in swept Harry, sapphires for eyes as he threw out his hand for the very last time, snatching the Snitch from the air.

One moment of calm; then …

Madness erupted!

Suddenly, I was plummeting down into a sea of euphoria. All around me, tidal waves of jubilation and wonder were crashing in as the students of Hogwarts threw up their arms in celebration, screaming and cheering and crying all at once, every single one of them watching in awe as the red-capes converged on the girl who had made all of it possible—the girl who had catapulted Gryffindor to victory.

Victory!

"THEY DID IT!" came Emmett's rapturous booms, while Ron almost suffocated Bella, ensnaring her in a death hug. "THEY DID IT! Harry Potter catches the Snitch for Gryffindor, after a sensational contribution from his teammate, who knocked Draco Malfoy out of the sky with a valiant new move! Ladies and gentlewizards, I give you … the Hand of Swan!"

Hand of Swan—that was what they were saying. It was the only thing I could hear.

"Hand of Swan! Hand of Swan! Hand of Swan! Hand of Swan!"

So it went on.

The Gryffindors and Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs were dazzled by Bella's fearless performance, and continued to chant the words over and over in honour of the witch, who was currently cradling her damaged hand as she descended from the sky with her teammates.

When her feet touched the ground, Harry and Ron dived at her together, lifting her up onto their shoulders to present her to the frenzied audience.

Harry gripped her tightly by the knee as he looked up at her. "Don't take this the wrong way or anything, but I seriously love you!"

"Love her?" Ron laughed, adding his penny to the pot. "Woman, we worship you! I bow down to your infinite brilliance."

Despite the agony she must have been experiencing, Bella giggled.

The Slytherin players were already leaving the pitch, too resentful following their stolen victory to watch the proceedings. The Gryffindor team, on the other hand, gladly soaked up the adoration.

Whether from the pain in her fist, or from the heightened emotion of winning her final game, Bella's eyes were swimming behind a film of tears. Her smile was tight, and she was clearly gritting her teeth, but her euphoria was evident, and seemed to cast a visible aura about her.

"That was awesome, Bella!" Ginny squealed, clutching her friend's cape. "I could kiss you for it!"

"Her hand!" said Viola. "I want to kiss her hand!"

"Me first!" cried Amicus.

And so they did. Bella laughed and blushed as she was lowered to the ground, and one by one, every member of the team bent to kiss the reason for their success.

Charlie seemed to have no words. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed each time he tried to gulp back his swelling emotion. If pride had had the properties of helium, he would have floated away by now. The Wolves, too, were eager to let everyone know about their association with the match heroine, especially Jacob.

"That's my best friend! That's my best friend!"

Embry winked at Luna, and pointed down at Bella. "I taught her that."

My body tensed as something launched at my back, but I relaxed when I recognised the minds and scents of Seamus and Dean. My nose scrunched automatically as two wet kisses were placed on either side of my face.

"Those are for your woman, Edward. Pass 'em on, mate."

After wiping my face with the back of my sleeve, I threw them both an amused smile. "You know, I'm starting to think you two have the hots for me."

Seamus snorted. "Sorry, but I prefer blondes."

And then I was being lifted off the ground without warning, after my tiny sister decided to lock me in a bear hug.

"The first time we play vampire baseball with your future wife, she's going to be on my team!"

"I want in too," Rosalie laughed.

Alice beamed. "It's settled then! Girls versus boys."

Jasper smirked and shook his head as the two females danced away from us, their arms linked as they followed the crowds out of the stands, cheering 'Hand of Swan' as they went.

Down on the pitch, the Gryffindor players were making their way towards the changing rooms, waving as they walked towards the exit. Bella's eyes had once again transformed into cups of molten gold. Her mind told me that she was searching for my face. When her gaze finally connected with mine, everything seemed to click into place. My world was a bizarre jigsaw, and all the pieces were exactly where they were meant to be, sliding together in perfect harmony. Only one piece was missing now, but I would find it soon.

I had everything I needed. At some point, I would have to find a way to bring up the subject of babies. Granted, I couldn't tell Bella about Renesmee, but the sphinx's spell wouldn't prevent me from discussing children in general. I decided then that I would ask Bella about the life she had initially pictured for herself. I needed to know if children had featured in that. What if they hadn't though? Would I let that stop me?

I shook my head in an attempt to clear it, and grinned down at the radiant witch. Before she disappeared into the changing rooms, she winked and blew me a kiss, resulting in a wolf-whistle from Jasper, who was feeling playful after prolonged exposure to the Quileutes.

Together, my brother and I headed after the girls, the two of us eager to watch the march back to the castle. Charlie and the Wolves followed us down to the exit, where we met up with Esme, Carlise and Emmett, the last of whom couldn't stop talking about Bella's final move, not that I minded. Actually, he sounded a bit like a sports critic, reeling off one adjective after another.

"Amazing! Superb! Absolutely astounding!" The students certainly seemed to agree. When the players emerged from the changing rooms, they were greeted by euphoric cheers. The witches and wizards didn't miss a beat. They immediately hoisted Bella and her friends into the air, screaming in delight as began their journey back to the castle.

Bella was being carried by Seamus, Dean, Terry Boot and Bayle Wishart. Her hand was newly mended, and I guessed that Madam Pomfrey had already performed her handy work. In her arms she cradled a large trophy—the Quidditch Cup.

"Oi, Swan!" Bella turned her head, alerted by Emmett's booming voice. He gave her the thumbs up and grinned. "That's what I call broken bones."

"Thanks coach!" she called back, before showing him her fist. "Broken bones!"

I left the others behind then. Somehow, I managed to fight my way into the throng, past all the students desperate to touch the Hand of Swan, until I was right beneath her, supporting her weight with those closest.

"Trust you, Bella," I whispered in her ear. "Who else would pull a stunt like that?"

She chuckled in response. "I really wanted to win."

"I gathered that. I've never met anyone as tenacious as you."

Bella laughed again, but didn't challenge my observation. Instead, she closed her eyes and contented herself with listening to the rhythmic chanting. One thing was certain; they would be talking about Bella Swan for years to come. They all love her, and so did I.

Bella said goodbye to the Wolves and her father once we arrived back at the castle. They were waiting for her on the fifth floor, inside Carlisle and Esme's office. There, she was hugged by everyone, except Paul, who settled with patting her on the back. Charlie thanked me again for enabling their visit, and demanded that he be invited to the next vampire baseball match.

"That's something I definitely want to see."

"Are you sure you want to ruin normal baseball for yourself, Dad?"

"Absolutely. I watch far too much television. Edward, you'll let me know when the next game is happening." It wasn't a question.

"Yes, sir," I grinned.

Charlie arched an eyebrow. "Edward, seriously, you can drop this sir stuff. I really don't care that you eat lions."

"OK."

"My daughter becoming a lion kind of puts things in perspective."

"Dad."

"I'm just saying."

"Alright, Charlie."

"As long as you don't try to eat her when she's a lion," he emphasised.

"I can tell the difference," I promised.

With that, and a few additional words of congratulations for his daughter, Charlie departed, confidently striding into the emerald flames of the fireplace.

"I think your father is developing an appreciation for the Floo Network, Bella," Jasper said on our way back to the common room. "He seemed excited about using it."

Bella nodded. "He's been using it a lot lately. He's had a new fireplace put in especially."

The closer we came to Gryffindor house, the louder the chanting became. It was so loud that it vibrated down through the walls of the Grand Staircase. We must have stopped a dozen times on our way there, because the portrait people were all eager to convey their admiration. They'd heard about the match from passing students. The Fat lady was especially delighted, and even after we passed through, I heard her shout, "She's one of mine."

The roar that greeted us was immense. Party-poppers were being brandished in every corner of the room, and from them spewed fountains of different coloured bubbles, all aimed in Bella's direction. The students hadn't tired of their chant, and picked up where they left off.

"Over here, Bells," Ron cried, waving from his place by the stairs. He held the cup while Harry poured in one bottle after another of Madam Rosmerta's butter-beer. "You first!"

The students shuffled aside to allow Bella room to move. They reached out as she passed, the tips of their fingers skimming her right hand. Those too far back to reach her were happy to clap and keep up the chant.

When she reached the front, Ron offered her the trophy. He patted her on the back, and winked. "Bottoms up, Bells."

She laughed, and was just about to take a swig, but was interrupted by the call of the students, who had switched their shout from 'Hand of Swan' to 'speech, speech, speech'. Bella looked imploringly at the Quidditch captain, but he merely laughed and shrugged.

"It's you they want."

"Me? But I don't know how to make speeches!" she whispered.

Ginny nudged her forward. "You'll willingly break your hand, but are too afraid to speak up? Come on, Bella."

Staring out at the waiting crowd, the witch blushed until her face was as red as a tomato.

Bless, thought Emmett, barely containing a cackle.

With a gesture from Ron, the other students began to settle down, each of them waiting with excited faces for Bella to indulge their desire for a final speech. It was only after my empathic brother began pumping the uncertain girl with all the confidence he could conjure that she finally opened her mouth to speak.

"I, um, I haven't prepared anything, so … I guess I'll just wing it." Bella coughed, shuffling her feet as her eyes roamed the expectant crowd. "As you all know, this is my last year at Hogwarts … It's one section of my life that I—that all of us, I think—will be sad to let go of."

The older students, all those who would not be returning in September, murmured their agreement. Bella seemed to take courage from that. Her back straightened a little more, and she squared her shoulders.

"When I stepped off the Hogwarts' Express all those years back, I didn't really know what to expect. If you'd told me back then that there was a sport I might be fairly good at, I probably would have laughed in your face." At this, the room filled with the sound of gentle laughter. I smiled. "As it is, Quidditch was one of the best things that ever happened to me … amongst other things, of course."

My grin grew wider as she threw me a quick wink.

"I learnt so much, down there on that pitch. In sports … in life—these games we play—winning is important, sure; I'm not going to deny that … but there's so much more to it. It's about … about teamwork—about working towards a common purpose—about wanting something so badly that it makes your bones hurt, and doing anything and everything you can to make it happen."

I didn't need to be a mind reader to sense the shift in mood. I had a feeling that Bella wasn't simply talking about the match now.

"That said … after five years at Quidditch, seven years at magic and eighteen years at life, here's to … to broken bones and losing teeth," she smiled, earning a small cheer from her audience. "To fireworks in the exam hall …" The applause grew louder as the students remembered the noble efforts of the Weasley twins.

"To fireworks on the stairs, for that matter," Bella smirked. This time, it was Seamus' and Dean's turns to blush. The cheering increased in intensity as, one by one, the witches and wizards were acknowledged for their bravery.

"To killing snakes, secret meetings, playing chess, and saying no. To fire in my blood, portable swamps, trips to Italy and I must not tell lies!"

Harry smiled, nodding his head in silent thanks while Ron and Hermione patted him on the back. Bella fell silent then, looking out at all the friends she had lived and fought beside. Happiness and sadness could be seen on her face as she considered her final words. I bit my lip as her eyes landed on me, wondering all the while how I could ever deserve someone so incredible.

Holding my gaze, she raised the cup to toast, and said, "To all the things that should have stopped us but didn't, and to the things that never will. Cheers."

And cheer they did. Bella lifted the cup to her lips, taking the first mouthful of butter-beer, while everyone around her screamed their applause, not just for the speech itself, but for everything they had achieved during the last eight years of adversity. Every contribution, no matter how small, had made a difference, and this was perhaps the last opportunity that the members of Gryffindor house would have to celebrate it all together.

One after another, they took their turn. When the butter-beer ran out, there were extra supplies to refill the cup.

What made it even better was that I had a place in it all. As Bella threw her arms around me, I realise that she was right. Trips to Italy and venom in her blood hadn't stopped either of us. Bella was as persistent as ever, refusing to let the odds deter her from pursuing a life with me. That in itself was a miracle in my eyes.

"I love you," I said, staring down into her face.

Gently, she stroked my chest, gazing up at me from beneath her lashes. "As I love you."

My grin grew wider, until it was touching my eyes. "I've just remembered that I have something for you."

Her brow furrowed at my words. I laughed loudly, before bending down to lay a sloppy kiss on her cheek.

"That's from Seamus." I did the same on the other side, earning a giggle from the joyful witch. "That's from Dean. And this one …" Bella arched an eyebrow, waiting for my next gift, as ever so slowly, I lowered my face to hers, "is from me."

I barely suppressed a growl as she deepened the kiss, knotting her fingers with my hair. I would have stayed that way forever, but finally we were interrupted. My siblings were staring at us with expressions of amusement.

"Hungry, Bella?" Emmett laughed, to which the girl responded with a roll of her eyes.

The other players joined us then. Harry was carrying the cup. It was filled to the brim with a new substance, one that could only be the unique potion sold in Honeydukes.

"Everyone else has had their turn except you lot," Ron announced, looking at my siblings and me. "Ready to taste victory?"

"You're actually serious?" Jasper blinked.

"Of course! Did you think we were joking?"

My brother didn't seem to know how to respond to that. Owing to the dragon's blood, he wasn't thirsty, so he didn't flinch when the members of the house team aimed their wands at their fingers, nor did his mouth water, as it would have done once upon a time, when he smelled the different samples of blood. Still, he appreciated the bouquet, smiling in anticipation as seven ruby droplets fell into the potion.

The newly created compound scent was absolutely divine, obviously not as incredible as Bella's concentrated essence, but far more appealing than those of the others. Because she was my Singer, it was only natural that Bella's scent would make those of her friends that little bit more appealing; not that they weren't already. They just weren't Bella.

"That smells pretty amazing," Emmett admitted, peering into the cup. I had to agree with him.

Alice was the first to drink. A blissful moan escaped her as she savoured the taste. Jasper, Rosalie and Emmett produced the same reaction, and I almost had to wrestle the cup from the latter.

Just before I guzzled down the last of the potion, I gazed over at my smiling witch, linking the fingers of my left hand with her right. Bringing it up to my lips, I kissed it lovingly, the image of her final seconds as a Gryffindor Chaser blazing brilliantly in my mind, where it would remain untarnished forevermore.

"To victory?" I asked. Whether she knew it or not, my questioning referred as much to the future as it did to the past and present.

Bella nodded. "To victory."

And with that, I took the offering into myself, the potential for our lives swimming behind my closed eyelids. The flavour was out of this world. It was everything I imagined 'victory' to be—burning and wonderful and sweet and delicious. It slipped down my throat as easily as warm butter; and as I stood there, consuming the last few mouthfuls, Neville had an epiphany.

Alice gasped, and a succession of welcomed images fluttered into my head. Very soon, Neville would approach Carlisle; he would tell my father that he wanted to try. The potion would not work the first time around; it would need a tweak, but the final outcome was set in stone. The parents of the boy who had chopped off the head of a snake would recover. Granted, there would always be a part of them that would long to forget, and they would never be the cheerful couple that they had been all those years ago. The scars would never fully disappear, but someday soon—very soon, in fact—Alice and Frank Longbottom would say 'hello' to their son, and he would say 'hello' in return.

The last drop of blood slipped past my lips, and as it did, I exchanged a knowing stare with my sister.

Soon, Edward, she promised.

With ours arms wrapped around our mates, everything was as it should be.

I nodded back at her. Yes. Very soon.

A/N: Well, there you have it. I thought I'd leave it with what I thought was a hopeful, yet slightly ominous, ending. Thanks to everyone who helped with ideas, including kyokoaurora who gave me the idea for curing Neville's parents. Also, thanks to Sarah, Casey, and my great friend Tee.

I will be posting the next story as soon as the first chapter is finished. It will cover Breaking Dawn, but will obviously contain my own twists. If you want to read it, either put me on author alert, or await my announcement, which I will tag onto the end of 'The Wisdom Seeker'.

Please review, and thanks to all of you who have done so in the past. It's great motivation!

Now … 'The Justice Reaper'.

Giggle xxx