Time flew by again and before I knew it, finals were thrust among us. James and I spent so much time studying that we hadn’t kissed in ages. Yes, it was frustrating not having our alone time, but the idea of failing was even more horrific.

I sighed and snapped my book closed. “Transfiguration, years one through seven review, complete.”

James looked up from his scribbled notes. “I wish I could say the same thing; I keep getting mixed up in the definitions and terms.”

“Just make up some little tricks to make them easier to remember.”

“Isn’t it harder to spend the time trying to memorize not only the word’s definition, but also a trick?”

“I guess, but it’s a lot more fun.”

James shrugged then looked longingly out the common room’s window.

“Mind on Quidditch?” I asked.

“Isn’t it always?”

“I was hoping I fit in there somewhere.”

“You always do. But yes, my mind is currently on Quidditch. Slytherin beat Hufflepuff three hundred and eighty to one hundred and fifty. It’s going to be a tough match.” He repeated, reminding me again that Gryffindor was battling Slytherin for their last game of the year tomorrow.

“You’ll do fine, James. You always do. You’ve gone through a lot more than this.”

“Yeah, I guess.” He sighed. “But I’ve also never been captain for the last game of my last year. I just don’t want to loose.”

“You won’t.” I smiled, and opened my book again. “You won’t…”

****

“And the score is eighty for Slytherin to fifty for Gryffindor!” Eli Schat roared into the microphone. “James Potter, Seventh Year, is currently coaching his team for the last year; he’s protecting his goal fiercely this game. I’ve never seen him play so intense!”

It was true; James had a mean look on his face and his was flying rapidly from post-to-post, as if daring anyone to get close. Dan McKenzie was the next one to try; he passed it to his fellow Slytherin Chaser, McNabb, who passed it back. He shot and-

“Blocked again by Potter! Now, if only Gryffindor’s Chasers would play as well as their captain, we’d have this game in the bag!”

Professor Girth coughed, and then poked Eli in the side.

“Oops, sorry, Professor. Biased, I know, I know. Oh- and what’s this?” Eli cried, then stood up and pointed. Everyone’s eyes flew up to where the teams Seekers, Bryce and Dale, where shooting to the ground. Both hands were outstretched. Suddenly, Bryce, the Slytherin player, shoved Dale to the side. He’d just about reached the Snitch when Gryffindor beater, Jackson, came speeding in front of Bryce, causing him to swerve off course.

“What’s he doing?” I cried to Marie, who was sitting next to me. “He’s going to get Gryffindor a foul!”

“Of course he is!” Marie laughed, eyes sparkling. “We’d rather get a foul and loose ten points then let them catch the Snitch and loose miserably.”

“Oh,” I said, and sat down again.

Eli looked around at the pitch, still commentating animatedly. “Madam Piscine has called a foul on the Gryffindor Team. McKenzie takes the shot and- oh, he misses! James throws the ball to Chaser Trace, who passes it to Kate- but McNabb intercepts it! McNabb passes to McKenzie, but Kate flies in between and Gryffindor had possession of the Quaffle again! Wait… Dale and Bryce are at it again!”

They were flying at the same speed. Each tried to knock the other’s hands out of the way, but neither could succeed.

“Dale, kick it up already!” I head James shout from the other side of the pitch.

The two Seekers were zooming quickly towards my stand, and as they rushed past, I saw the Golden Snitch. Dale nodded, closed his eyes, and then flung himself off of his broom.

He was sent crashing to the ground and landed with a loud thud.

Everyone gasped. I stood up and watched at the Gryffindor Team flew to the ground in a crimson cascade. There were lots of shouts then James walked to the center of the pitch and held up the Snitch.

Gryffindor won the game, two hundred points to eighty.

After the game I ran down to the locker rooms, were a group of girls were waiting nervously. I pushed through and opened the door, leading my way to James. When he saw me he smiled and pulled me into a big hug. “You were right, Lils! We did it! We won!”

“Yes, Mr. Sweaty, we sure did,” I laughed, and kissed him for the first time in what felt like weeks.