A/N: Hello all! I am very close to wrapping up this story. I hope you've all enjoyed it, and I have a feeling you will particularly enjoy this chapter. Please leave a review, as I love to hear all of your thoughts. Thank you to all of the loyal followers who have been sharing your kind words throughout this story. Let me know what you think this time around, would you?

- CHAPTER SEVENTEEN –

The Quidditch Final

With Fred filling up my head for the next several days, it was hard to think about anything else. My quest to steal the Marauder's Map back from Harry was starting to seem like a lost cause. At first the upcoming Hogsmeade weekend gave me hope that I'd be able to take advantage of the fact that everyone would be out of the way. However, Harry seemed to carry the map around with him everywhere. It was looking like my plan wasn't going to work out.

Before Hogsmeade weekend arrived, I had another matter to keep my mind occupied. My parents had come to visit Hogwarts so they could speak with me and Professor McGonagall about the Animagus procedure. As I wasn't of age, I couldn't legally go through with the plan without having my parents' approval. They were, of course, delighted about the opportunity and agreed to come speak with Professor McGonagall as soon as they heard the Ministry had given their signature.

While they were in the castle, Professor McGonagall went over the specific details of the procedure—something she had yet to cover with me. I would have to drink a potion once daily for 'as long as necessary'. McGonagall explained that the exact number of days varies from person to person. It all depended on the body's ability to cope with the changes involved. I was to drink it at the same time every day until the end of the process when I would cease taking the potion. At this point a self-transfiguration should be possible.

There were some odd side-effects I was made aware of as well. According to Professor McGonagall they usually began after one or two months of drinking the potion. Nothing sounded too extreme, so I wasn't worried about it much. In reality, there wasn't much I really needed to do. The most time-consuming part of the process would be my meetings with Professor McGonagall when she would use human transfiguration on me. This would prepare me for going through the transformation myself.

I was thankful that it would be Professor McGonagall who would be seeing me through the process and not a Ministry official. I didn't think I would be very comfortable with having regular meetings with a stranger, especially when the transfiguration would leave me entirely helpless in the event that something went wrong.

On the night that my parents left the castle, I began taking the potion Professor Snape had brewed for me. This also made me a little uncomfortable because I wasn't entirely sure Snape wouldn't try to sabotage me. I was sure he had the foresight to know that I would probably use self-transfiguration to cause trouble. I wished he didn't have to know about it, but it was part of the deal that the faculty be aware of the situation.

The morning after I began the potion procedure Fred, George and I headed to Hogsmeade together. Aside from already being extraordinarily awkward around Fred because of the ever-strange situation going on between the two of us, I was also feeling drained. After taking the potion for the first time I had been unable to sleep. Professor McGonagall said restlessness at the beginning was to be expected.

"Oi, Juliet!"

I snapped out of my daze and looked around. I remembered quite suddenly that I was in the Three Broomsticks with the blokes. My eyes snapped to Fred, who was looking at me with a concerned expression on his face.

"What?" I asked him.

"You were just sort of in a daze," he answered.

"Sorry, I'm just tired," I told him, suppressing a yawn.

Fred stuck his arm over my shoulders and gave my shoulder a squeeze. "Then why did you come?" he asked. "You could've just stayed at the castle."

"Taken a nap," George suggested.

"It wouldn't have done any good," I replied, "I can't sleep anyway."

Fred shrugged, jostling me at the same time due to his arm around my shoulders. "Maybe you'll have a better night tonight," he said.

"Yeah, maybe," I grumbled.

Fred and I hadn't discussed our relationship since the night we had gone for the walk together. Things were feeling very tense between us…or at least for me they were. Fred actually seemed quite normal, all things considered. It was unnerving. He was just as touchy-feely as ever, but we had no more close calls like we had before. George had even stopped questioning me about what was going on. He seemed to sense that whatever was going on would have to be solved by Fred and me.

The twins dragged me to nearly every shop in the town that day. I moved like a zombie, trailing behind Fred and he tugged me along by the arm. I was too exhausted to take much in, and I had the suspicion I would continue to feel that way until I had a good long night's sleep.

It was ages before Fred and George decided it was time to head back to the castle, b when we did I made a beeline for the common room and collapsed on the sofa. Fred had insisted I go straight to bed, but without any energy to climb the stairs I figured the common room would suffice.

"You sure you're alright?"

I squinted through slits in my eyes and saw Fred standing above me.

"I'm fine," I muttered.

"Come on, I'll bring you to your dormitory."

I had never known exactly how Fred and George were able to get up to the girls dormitories, but I figured that because they knew every secret in the school, that they had figured out another one sometime during their years here. Fred grabbed my arms and yanked me up.

"I can get up there on my own," I grumbled, feeling irritable. I sincerely hoped the grogginess wouldn't last much longer.

He laughed. "An extra set of hands doesn't hurt," he said as we reached the top of the staircase. He pushed open the door and saw me right to my four-poster bed, encouraging me to lie down.

I smiled a little. Watching Fred fuss over me was a little amusing, and undeniably sweet. I was certain he wasn't behaving like a regular friend, but I was in no condition to dwell over it. I rolled myself onto my side, relishing in the fact that I could snuggle into my comforter.

"Don't you come back down until you've had some rest," Fred told me, patting my head. "You're downright boring when you're like this."

I laughed again, letting myself drift to sleep. I had almost zoned completely out when I felt him stoop down so his head was close to mine. I kept my eyes shut, but felt as his lips brushed my forehead lightly.

I half-expected him to say something, but I heard his footsteps moments later and listened to them get further away as he went back down to the common room.

Mercifully, over the following weeks the exhaustion due to the potion faded. However, exhaustion over homework and Quidditch practice soon took its place. Our O.W.L.s were swiftly approaching and it was becoming increasingly difficult to keep up with the piles of school work that the teachers were throwing at us. Oliver, however, was working us so hard with practices that I rarely had any time to work on anything else.

The Quidditch final was upon us with surprising speed. For a full week beforehand the excitement in the air was nearly palpable. It seemed all of Hogwarts—aside from the Slytherin house, of course—were hoping for a Gryffindor win. With all of the pressure on the end-of-the-year match, it was hard to concentrate. I had started getting anxious that I may fall of my broom or fail to perform properly due to the side-effects of the Animagus potion. Professor McGonagall assured me that I would be perfectly fine, but that didn't stop the paranoid thoughts I was having. I would wake up in the middle of the night with weird dreams about sighting a bird and eating it during the match. Irrational though it was, I couldn't help but fear it coming true.

Besides my worried thoughts about Quidditch, the rest of the team was on edge as well. Oliver continued to bother Harry, telling him to only catch the Snitch when we were more than fifty points up. He was also pressuring the Chasers, because if we didn't score enough points before Harry caught the Snitch we would lose regardless of the quality of our playing. If that were to happen I couldn't be certain Oliver would let any of us off the Quidditch pitch alive.

In fact, the entire Gryffindor house was obsessed with the upcoming match. Gryffindor hadn't won the Quidditch Cup since the legendary Charlie Weasley had been Seeker. The chatter of excitement seemed to follow the team everywhere we went. The continuous talk about the match made me even more nervous.

To make a long story short, with the pressure of my bizarre relationship with Fred, the upcoming match and our Ordinary Wizarding Level finals swiftly approaching, I was close to a meltdown.

"Blimey, are you listening to me Juliet?"

"Huh?" I looked up and saw George waving his hands in front of my face in an attempt to get my attention.

"What is going on in that head of yours?" he asked. I didn't know whether he looked more irritated or worried.

"Sorry," I said breathily. "I'm just… nervous."

"Don't worry about the match," he reassured me. "You will be fine. But could you please give me back my essay? You've been looking at it for over half an hour."

"Oh, right sorry," I replied, shaking my head and handing the essay back to him. I had been trying to sift through George's History of Magic essay in an attempt to make mine more presentable. I wasn't making much progress, as I had read the same sentence thirteen times without managing to take in a word of it.

"Well, there's no time to continue looking at it now," George said. "We've got to head down to the change rooms or Wood'll do his nut."

I groaned and got up from my comfortable seat. George was right. If we waited any longer the match would start without us. I ignored the nervous butterflies building in my stomach and picked up my bag full of Quidditch gear from the common room floor.

"How's the…thing coming along?" George asked quietly as we walked down the corridors for the Quidditch pitch. We had been very careful not to talk about my Animagus process around anyone who may overhear. I really didn't like the idea of the whole castle knowing.

"Not great…awful actually," I answered. "The meetings with McGonagall have been ghastly. Self-transfiguration is really uncomfortable when someone else is controlling it."

"You'll get used to it though," he said, although it sounded like a question.

"Eventually, I guess," I said. "At least the sleeping side-effects are gone, but soon the weird ones are supposed to start up," I told him. Fred appeared just as we were heading outside.

"You didn't wait for me!" he accused, hurrying to catch up to us.

"You were slow!" I called back, turning my attention again to George.

"What weird side-effects?" he asked.

"Well, I'm supposed to get strange cat-like urges, whatever that's supposed to mean," I answered.

"Like?" George asked.

"Eating birds?" Fred said, letting out a bark of laughter.

"I have no idea really," I answered, but my stomach gave a lurch. Fred had only been joking, but it had hit home after my bird-eating nightmares. I pictured myself snatching a bird from the sky and swallowing it whole. "I'm afraid I'll bugger up today," I said, beginning to feel nauseous.

"You'll do brilliantly," Fred disagreed.

He threw his arm around my shoulder and pulled me tight against his side as the pitch came into view. Stooping low to kiss the side of my head, he whispered into my ear, "You're bloody cute when you're nervous."

I blanched, but wasn't certain whether it was due to Fred's comment or the fact that I could now see Oliver Wood doing a walk around the pitch, surveying the conditions.

The air outside was cool, but not freezing, and it looked as though the skies were going to remain clear all day. This only worsened my fears of eating birds. Clear skies meant there would be plenty around to munch on…

Wood was still pacing the pitch, walking around in circles when we made it down to the field. He was staring at the ground. The rest of the team lined up behind him, not making a sound. We waited patiently for him to say something, but he remained silent.

After staring at Wood for what seemed ages, the doors of the castle opened and the rest of the school spilled out onto the lawn. My breathing hitch and I grabbed Fred's hand unconsciously. I was so nervous I completely missed the scathing look George shot me from Fred's opposite side.

"Changing rooms," Wood said.

Everyone changed into their Quidditch equipment and robes in complete silence. In no time at all, it seemed, Wood was signaling everyone to exit out onto the pitch.

As the team traipsed out to the pitch we were met by an ear-splitting roar. An overwhelming three quarters of the crowd were wearing scarlet, and flags with the Gryffindor lion on them were waving at us from every direction. I also spotted a few banners in the crowd printed with 'GO GRYFFINDOR' or 'LIONS FOR THE CUP!' in gold letters.

"And here are the Gryffindors!" yelled Lee in the distance over the speakerphone. As he introduced us all by name, Slytherin hisses and boos could be heard from the right-hand side of the pitch. The Slytherin house stood out starkly in contrast to the scarlet Gryffindor supporters.

"They are widely acknowledged as the best side Hogwarts has seen in a good few years," Lee continued and was met by more boos from the Slytherins.

"Mount your brooms!" Madam Hooch called, and I realized I hadn't been paying attention at all. The captains had already shaken hands and Hooch's whistle was already being raised. "Three…two…one…" The sound of her whistle sent both teams flying into the air. There was a huge roar from the crowd as the fourteen brooms lifted from the ground.

"Gryffindor in possession… Alicia Spinnet of Gryffindor with the Quaffle, heading straight for the Slytherin goalposts," Lee was saying quickly. I focused on his voice in a vain attempt to steady myself as I regained my courage. "Looking good, Alicia! NO! Quaffle intercepted by Warrington. Nice Bludger work there by Weasley!"

I stopped listening to Lee as Warrington very suddenly dropped the Quaffle. I caught it, momentarily forgetting about my nerves. Taking possession easily, I steered my broom towards the Slytherin goalposts, dodging a Bludger and swerving around the Keeper…

"SHE SCORES! JULIET MAKES IT TEN-ZERO TO GRYFFINDOR!" Lee's voice echoed throughout the air as the crowd went wild.

I swerved again and was nearly thrown from my broom as Marcus Flint smashed violently into me. There was no doubt in my mind that it was intentional.

"Sorry!" I heard Flint mutter a fake apology. "Sorry, didn't see her!" He gave me a disgusting grin than had me scowling back at him angrily.

Next moment, Fred had chucked his Beater's club at the back of Flint's head. I was flattered at the chivalry, but annoyed at the same time—Fred's outburst would cost us.

"That will do!" shrieked Madam Hooch, zooming between Fred and Flint with an angry look on her face. The blokes looked mutinous and glared daggers at each other. "Penalty to Gryffindor for an unprovoked attack on their Chaser!" Madam Hooch belted. "Penalty to Slytherin for deliberate damage to their Chaser!"

"Come off it, Miss!" howled Fred. Hooch sped off to the sidelines again and Fred turned to me. "Can't let you get injured out here can I?" he said, winking at me.

I rolled my eyes and turned to look at the penalty shot being taken.

"Come on Alicia!" Lee yelled as Alicia moved forward to take the penalty. "YES! SHE'S BEATEN THE KEEPER! TWENTY-ZERO TO GRYFFINDOR!"

Fred and George pumped their fists into the air and I zoomed around to face the opposite end of the pitch where Oliver was hovering expectantly. Flint moved forward to take the penalty for Slytherin.

"Course, Wood's a superb Keeper!" Lee yelled over the crowd. "Superb! Very difficult to pass YES! I DON'T BELIEVE IT! HE'S SAVED IT!"

Slytherin was in possession again. I realized very suddenly that my nervousness had complete evaporated. My silly bird nightmare had been very stupid indeed, because I was feeling completely normal in the air. I could feel the intensity coursing through my body as I watched carefully, flying up behind Katie who had just taken the Quaffle. She streaked towards the goalpost, but was blocked by a Slytherin Chaser. He was a massive bloke and deliberately plowed straight into Katie in an obvious attempt to knock her off her broom. I was beginning to see a trend in the opposing team's tactics.

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

Back in play once again, I looked up and saw the Quaffle falling out of one of the Slytherins' reach. I took both hands off of my broom to grab it by my fingertips. Holding the Quaffle under one arm and grasping my broomstick in the other, I sped towards the goal again. Marcus Flint was right beside me.

"Wood should know better than to let girls onto his team," Flint sneered.

"Oh, it's you," I called back to him. "I was wondering what that dreadful stench was."

Flint let out a sort of strangled growl. He reached over and grabbed the Quaffle from me roughly. I snarled back at him, resisting the urge to punch him in the back of the head, and shot after him. He flew towards Wood with me tailing him, but he got there before me. He had scored.

Despite the minor setback, soon Gryffindor had gained another ten points with a penalty shot to both teams. Wood made another brilliant save, making the score forty-ten. Katie put the Quaffle easily through the centre hoop once more. Perhaps out of rage, the Slytherin Beaters then knocked both Bludgers directly at Wood, despite the fact that the play was nowhere near him. One of the Bludgers narrowly missed, but the second caught him straight-on. He was hit right in the gut, and he rolled over on his broom in pain.

"Oliver!" Katie yelped and bolted towards the far side of the pitch to check on him. If I hadn't been so outraged I would have found it funny that she was running to Wood's rescue.

Madam Hooch blew her whistle again and I took the penalty, scoring once more for Gryffindor. Moments later, Fred pelted a Bludger at Warrington, knocking the Quaffle out of his hands. Alicia grabbed it quickly and put it through the Slytherin goal making the score seventy-ten.

I was starting to get excited. The Cup was within our reach! All we needed to do was hold on long enough for Harry to catch the Snitch. My heart was pounding in my chest as play resumed.

Very suddenly Harry was racing to catch the Snitch. I couldn't see it from where I was hovering, but certainly that's what he was doing. Malfoy was tailing him very closely, but Harry's Firebolt was far superior. He was going to catch it! Only, he didn't. At the last moment Malfoy, in an unparalleled display of cheating, launched himself forwards and grabbed onto the back of Harry's broom. Harry's broom jerked backwards, and the Snitch escaped.

"Penalty! Penalty to Gryffindor! I've never seen such tactics!" Madam Hooch screeched. Her yells were punctuated by the shouts of three-quarters of the entire school. I even caught a glimpse of Professor McGonagall, shaking her fist in rage. She didn't even try to stop Lee as he began cursing into the microphone. I felt a surge of pride in my house, watching Professor McGonagall behaving obscenely on the sidelines, and turned my attention back to the game.

Alicia took the resulting penalty for Gryffindor. Being so angry, however, she missed by quite a lot. The score was seventy-twenty for Gryffindor and the team was starting to lose concentration.

Trying to regroup, I tailed Flint as he received a pass from Montague.

"George!" I yelled, and he directed a Bludger directly at us. Flint dodged it, but fumbled with the Quaffle, dropping it. I acted quickly, grabbing it as it fell out of his hands.

I had to score again so Harry would be free to catch the Snitch. I realized quite suddenly that every single Slytherin player was streaking towards me in an attempt to stop me from making the goal. I braced myself, sure they were going to run right into me, when Harry came out of nowhere and shot towards the Slytherins. They were forced to scatter and my way was clear. I leaned forward and kept my eye on the Slytherin goal.

"SHE SCORES! CHRISTIE SCORES! Gryffindor lead by eighty points to twenty!"

I then heard a loud gasp from the crowd and looked up in horror to see Malfoy going into a great dive with his hand outstretched.

"NO!" I yelled. My eyes were fixated on Malfoy as I ignored the game around me.

Harry was pushing the Firebolt and seemed to be gaining on Malfoy. Whether or not he would be fast enough was hard to tell.

"Come on Harry!" I yelled at him, though I could barely hear myself above all of the screaming that the crowd was doing.

He knocked Malfoy's arm out of the way and pulled out of his dive, his arm in the air triumphantly.

It took me a minute to register what had happened, and then the crowd erupted with more noise than I have ever heard before. I screamed and shot myself towards the ground where the rest of the team was now racing.

"WE'VE DONE IT!" I yelled. "WE'VE WON!"

Oliver, Harry, Alicia, Katie, George and Fred were all landing around me. It was hard to tell who was who as everyone slapped each other on the back and exchanged hearty hoots and laughter. A massive wave of scarlet came pouring down from the stands as we stood there, glowing with happiness. Suddenly, I, along with the rest of the Gryffindor team, was hoisted into the air, on the shoulders of the Gryffindor supporters.

Above all of the heads I saw Hagrid yelling for joy and Percy, dignity forgotten as he jumped around like a maniac. I couldn't stop smiling and just stared around at everyone, still in shock. Wood's face was tear-streaked, but Professor McGonagall was sobbing even more than he was. She was wiping her eyes on a giant Gryffindor flag. Wood then passed the cup to Harry, who held it up above his head. The look on his face summed up how all of us were feeling—utter elation.

When the crowd finally let the team down, I looked around as George's arms latched themselves around me. I spun towards him and hugged him back in earnest, laughing as he tousled my hair. "You were brilliant!" he yelled over the noise.

"So were you!" I said, grinning back. "Nice Bludger work back there, by the way. I wouldn't have scored that last one without you."

"We make an excellent team," he agreed.

I was being jostled around uncontrollably. Hands were everywhere, and I hardly realized that I was being pulled backwards. I was very abruptly yanked away from George. Someone spun me around swiftly. I hardly managed to crack a smile at Fred as he grinned down at me before he was crushing his lips down on mine.

Shock coursed through my body as Fred pulled me to him with irresistible force. His lips were forceful, but oddly soft even through all of the chaos. I don't know when I began to react, but I found myself grabbing onto his Quidditch robes and pulling him strongly towards me. Before I even had time to think about what was happening we were full-on snogging in the middle of the celebrating crowd.

His hands were on me—one hand on my back, and one in my sweat-coated hair. I had the bizarre thought that he tasted of peppermint and firecrackers before he pulled away. As soon as he did, I regretted letting him stop.

He grinned down at me again. I must have looked shocked because he laughed and released me. I let go of the front of his robes reluctantly, feeling very light-headed.

"Sorry," he said cheekily, giving me a wink. "Couldn't control myself!"

He bent quickly once more and pecked me once on the lips before spinning around and darting in the opposite direction. I stared after him in astonishment, watching his retreating figure until I was brought back to reality by Oliver throwing his arms around me.

"Christie!" he said. His eyes were still full of tears. "We couldn't have done it without you! And Spinnet, Bell!" he pulled the other two girls towards us in an uncomfortable, strangled group hug. "You girls are bloody brilliant."

Alicia, Katie and I laughed at the display, and were startled when, in an act so unlike Wood, he grabbed each one of us and placed a sloppy kiss on our cheeks.

"Now, now, Wood," I said cheekily, "you have to let us return the favour."

Tightly-wound Oliver was clearly in another world entirely, because he accepted our silly kisses happily before grabbing hold of the Weasley twins.

The party on the Quidditch pitch lasted for quite some time. However, even after the students had returned to the castle, laughter and cries of delight could still be heard in the Gryffindor common room all through the night. Professor McGonagall wouldn't be able to stop anyone from celebrating this time, although I had a feeling she wasn't going to try.