A/N: Whelp, here's the last chapter. Depending on how the mood strikes, there may be some add on one-shots – I'm intrigued by Beca's statement at the end of PP2 about the Bella house basement being haunted, for one. Anyway, thanks for reading and I hope you've enjoyed!

Rating: This story contains bad language, clear misuse of Harry Potter references, and allusions to sexy funtimes between the ladies. Rate accordingly.

Disclaimer: Nothing you recognize is mine.

I Put a Spell on You
by: Hayseed

Chapter Ten

In a fair and just world, the Barden University administration would have realized how extremely important the ICCAs were and canceled final exams for the Bellas. Better yet, they would have also decided that the Treblemakers needed to take extra finals, to make sure their academic performance was sufficient.

But this was just the regular old world that Chloe had woken up in every morning for the last twenty-two years, so there was no escaping her Defense final.

On the one hand, half of it was written – finally! – so she was pretty confident there. But the second half was not going to go so well.

Occlumency.

It wasn't part of her high school curriculum, and Chloe was currently taking to it like a duck to integral calculus.

"Legilimens," Beca intoned.

Cue the memory of her mortifying fourth birthday party, where she wet her pants and Aubrey threw up on her birthday cake. All laid out in Technicolor for Beca's viewing pleasure.

Beca broke the connection and Chloe sighed. "This isn't working," Beca said unnecessarily.

"I don't want to block you," Chloe admitted. "I mean, not that I especially want you to view my most embarrassing life moments while I'm paralyzed to stop you, but you're probably the one person on Earth I would want to keep out."

"And it's not like you're particularly good at hiding your emotions anyway."

She smiled, but there was little humor in it. "You say that like it's a bad thing."

"I think we need to call in reinforcements." With a flourish, Beca pulled out her phone and tapped at the screen.

Not five minutes later, there was a knock at Chloe's door. "You rang?" Jesse asked cheerfully when she opened the door.

"How's your Legilimency?" Beca asked.

He stared at her. "Not as good as yours, I bet. Why?"

She pointed at Chloe, who offered Jesse a wan smile. "Part of our final exam tomorrow is Occlumency, and studying is proving… difficult."

They had some sort of silent exchange that Chloe found fascinating – Beca smiled at Jesse, who shook his head and then sighed when Beca wrinkled her nose. With obvious reluctance, Jesse pulled his wand out of his sleeve and aimed it at Chloe. "Think sexy thoughts," he said, giving her a smarmy grin. "Legilimens!"

No, Chloe immediately thought. That's off-limits.

For the first time, she felt a curl of magic as Jesse tried to slip into her mind, but Chloe firmed her mental barriers, built of anger and frustration. No!

She saw a memory from a few days ago, Beca laughing helplessly as Chloe struggled to unclasp Beca's bra.

No!

There was a loud bang, and Chloe opened her eyes to see Jesse on the ground, wincing.

"That was a good one," Beca said. "You threw him into your dresser."

"Ow…" he moaned.

"Oh, my gosh," Chloe cried. "Jesse, I'm so sorry!"

"You did a good job," he wheezed, prodding gingerly at his own ribs. "I was trying to piss you off, anyway. My own fault."

"I don't think that will be Professor Palmer's approach," Chloe said, helping him to his feet. "But now I know what a shield feels like, at least. I've never gotten one up before."

"You got one up that time," he replied ruefully. "In fact, if I didn't know better, I'd say you and Beca were playing a nasty trick on a Treble rival, trying to injure him before the big day."

"Not necessary," Beca said with a confident sniff. "We're going to wipe the floor with you bozos without playing any tricks. Just good, clean a capella."

"Do you know how dorky you sound right now?" Jesse shot back.

In response, Beca flicked her wand, covering Jesse with a thin layer of pink glitter. "Takes one to know one, buster."

He twirled his fingers and the glitter disappeared. "Hey, I admit freely that I'm a total nerd. You're the one who has delusions."

Chloe folded her arms over her chest and glared back and forth between them. "Um, guys? Studying? Final exams? Future depending on a passing grade? Does any of this ring a bell?"

"Right." Beca clapped her hands together. "I think you should try to Occlude Jesse again, just to make sure it wasn't a fluke."

A panicked look flickered across his face. "No!"

Boy, either she must have really hit him hard, or he was a total pain-baby. Whichever it was, she didn't think Jesse's Legilimency was up to a second attempt. Sighing, she shook her head. "I don't think it'll help. Thanks, though, Jesse."

She tried not to be insulted at the relieved expression he was wearing as he practically ran from her room.

Beca raised an eyebrow. "Do you think this will work this time?"

Chloe did her best to mentally center herself. "Nothing to but try it."

"Okay… Legilimens!"

Her shield wavered on the first hit, but it held. Now that she knew what to look for, it was a little easier. She didn't have to be mad at Beca specifically, but she allowed herself to be upset at the general idea of someone trying to invade her mind.

A memory. A boy's hand, sliding down past her navel, heading toward…

"Legilimens!"

Chloe steeled herself. If Beca wanted to know about past relationships, she could damn well ask like anybody else.

Her shield held. And held. Uncountable minutes.

Finally, Beca's wand lowered and she sighed. "I think you have it," she said quietly.

"Really?" Chloe couldn't help squealing, grabbing Beca in a hug and leaning in for a kiss.

That went strangely unreturned.

Dropping her arms, Chloe tilted her head. "What's wrong, Beca?"

She made a frustrated noise. "Nothing. It's stupid."

"I've dated other people before, you know," she said gently, knowing exactly what was bothering Beca. "You have too, haven't you?"

She nodded, looking miserable. "Hearing that is one thing," she replied. "Seeing it…"

Chloe considered how upset she'd be if she had to watch Beca's memory of an encounter with anyone but her. "I can understand that. But you do realize that I've never had any relationship that even approaches the way I feel about you, right?"

Beca's eyes were soft. "Really?"

Smiling, she pecked Beca's cheek, running a comforting hand down her arm for good measure. "We connected right away. I don't know that I believe in actual love at first sight, but we had something at first sight."

"You were so worried that first day," Beca said with a quiet snicker. "You'd just melted Aubrey's phone, and she was being such a bitch. Even then, it made me furious to see her treat you that way."

"And you were trying to hard not to care," Chloe pointed out. "It was kind of… sweet."

"Yeah?" Beca wrapped her arm around Chloe's waist, pulling her close.

"Yeah," she sighed.

Absolutely zero studying got done the rest of the night.

Beca, she heard Chloe's voice sternly reprimand, you can't think of a potion as a recipe. It's a specific chemical reaction. The reason you don't get Potions class is because you don't bother to consider the ingredient interactions. As long as you know your ingredients, recipes don't matter.

Which was awesome if you were a Potions genius. But if you were Beca, standing in front of the cauldron containing the potion she needed to brew perfectly for her final exam, Chloe's instructions weren't as helpful as she clearly thought they'd been.

Especially because she kept hearing the ICCA mash-up droning in the back of her head. Her feet longed to break into the choreography, because there was no such thing as enough practice where the Bellas were concerned.

Aubrey wanted to win so badly. And even though she didn't say it, Beca could read in Chloe's eyes that she wanted to win just as badly.

Which is why despite trying her hardest over the last year to remain completely uninvested in stupid a capella competitions, Beca wanted to win too. To the point that she'd offered to magically cripple herself so that Aubrey would trust her to participate.

But she needed to get through this potion first. The ICCAs didn't mean a damn thing if she failed Potions and flunked out of the Defense program.

Her base was fine, simmering and pearlescent white, just like the instructions indicated.

(She had some dim notion that part of her grade was to identify the potion as well as brew it, but the recipe wasn't one she recognized and she hoped fervently that a correct brew with an incorrect label would still pass.)

Next came the lacewing flies. Gravely, Beca stirred them in. Seven stirs clockwise, seven stirs counterclockwise.

Stirring motion is important for ingredient distribution, Beca. But by that point in the study session, Beca was no longer paying any attention to potions and was far more focused on how to get Chloe in bed. Not her best effort that day.

Blackadder paste. Now this one, she knew she had to add in small increments – an explosion before Christmas break had taught her that handy lesson. Two counterclockwise stirs, simmer for five minutes.

While she counted time in her head, she started slicing the ginger she'd need for the next stage. Sliced ginger, mashed dung beetles, and a pickled toad's eye.

Dung beetles will turn a potion red, unless you've added daisy roots. Then it will turn orange. That's, of course, assuming you don't blow anything up, Beca. Chloe was cute when she tried to be sarcastic.

Five minutes dutifully timed, and the first slice of ginger dropped into the cauldron. It started to bubble ominously.

Shit!

Now, don't forget, Beca, that blackadder paste is highly acidic, and if you're going to add a passive ingredient like ginger or any flower derivative, you must, must, must add a basic substance to neutralize the reaction. That's why ginger always goes in simultaneously with an ingredient like ashwinder egg or dung beetle!

Chloe specifically said don't forget, and stupid effing Beca went and forgot!

The cauldron gave a loud burp, and she could feel the students around her stepping away in a practiced motion. She moaned.

Of course, you can always suppress a reaction, Beca. As long as you're not brewing a delicate potion like Polyjuice or Calming Draught, any reaction can be stopped and started using—

"Black walnut!" she whispered, diving for her potions kit and scrabbling through jars.

She dumped the entire container of ground black walnut shells into her cauldron. There was a loud hissing sound, a release of green steam, but the bubbling stopped.

Beca blew out a sigh of relief but jumped as a voice spoke over her left shoulder. "Mitchell, what's going on here?" Professor Tyson asked sternly.

"Some ginger fell in my cauldron before I had the dung beetle prepared for addition," she said more-or-less honestly (so it fell because she'd been holding it over the cauldron at the time – the professor didn't need to know every teeny tiny detail). "I suppressed the reaction with black walnut, Professor."

An eyebrow went up. "Unconventional, but good save, Mitchell. I trust you'll be able to salvage a result?"

Screw honesty. "Yes, ma'am," she lied smoothly.

The potion wasn't deep red like it was supposed to be. It wasn't congealing to a paste like the others around her. But she hadn't blown anything up, and she was ninety percent sure that the recipe was for a burn paste of some sort, although she had no idea which type. She poured her chunky orange result into a beaker that she'd labeled with her best guess and waited for the professor to check her work with no small degree of anxiety.

"Miss Mitchell…" Professor Tyson drawled as she approached. "Did we manage to… oh."

"Um," Beca managed in a strangled voice.

The professor picked the beaker up and gave it a hesitant swirl, looking astonished as she read the label – well, maybe Beca had gotten something right, at least.

"This is…"

She tried to look hopeful.

Professor Tyson blew out a sigh. "You're on the Defense track, yes, Miss Mitchell?"

She nodded, wondering what the hell difference that made.

"Are you planning on entering the Aurory? Working in any sort of forensic field?"

"No, ma'am."

Tyson squinted. "Brewing any potions ever again?"

Beca shook her head again. "I want to work in the Muggle music industry," she mumbled.

"You are, Miss Mitchell, without a doubt, the least-naturally talented student I've ever encountered."

She bowed her head, accepting the rebuke. It was true, after all.

"But today you demonstrated some degree of knowledge by neutralizing a reaction that would have resulted in a dangerous explosion otherwise," the professor continued. "And even though your result is… less than proficient, you appear to have completed the brew as instructed, and you have some idea of what the process should have been."

When she dared to look up, she saw a deep scowl on Professor Tyson's face and dropped her head again.

"Despite serious reservations, Miss Mitchell, I will assign you a passing grade for this course."

She looked up, unable to help a wide smile from spreading across her face. "Really?"

"But!" Tyson held up a hand. "But I have some restrictions. You will not take another Potions course, and you will never attempt to brew a potion outside of a controlled laboratory setting. Frankly, Miss Mitchell, you are a danger in a potions classroom, and I'd rather pass you than face another year together."

If she hadn't been so desperate to pass and get the hell away from Potions class, she would've been offended. As it was, she simply nodded. "No problem, Professor."

The professor's smile was thin. "I didn't think it would be. Now, have a good summer, Miss Mitchell. And tell your girlfriend that her attempts to tutor you through this course were admirable if misguided."

Beca's mouth fell open.

Unbelievably, Tyson tipped her a wink. "Chloe Beale is the one who discovered that black walnut powder acts as a neutralizer in single-replacement reactions, Miss Mitchell. Her paper on her results is being published later this year."

Oh, she was so going to kiss Chloe until she couldn't breathe!

Who was hyperventilating? No, sir, not Chloe Beale. No one hyperventilating over here!

Beca's hip bumped playfully into her own. "Chill, dude. We're going to be great."

They still had almost half an hour before performing. They weren't even backstage yet; just in some cobbled-together green room that had the world's saddest snack tray and a couple of cans of soda on a card table.

Amy nibbled halfheartedly at a slice of pepperoni she'd snagged from the snack tray. "If it was going to be a disaster, I totally would be warning everyone. My spidey sense hasn't tingled once. And I got the two of you right, didn't I?"

Chloe blushed outright and Beca made a face. "Fucking prophecy," she grumbled so quietly that Chloe was pretty sure she was the only other person who heard it.

"Okay, ladies," Aubrey announced suddenly, clapping her hands together. "Game faces on?" She gave Beca an expectant look.

"Oh, yeah." Beca pulled a vial of pearly pink potion from her pocket and waved it in the air. "I'm on it."

Even though she'd brewed the Calming Draught herself, Chloe couldn't stand watching Beca drink it. After she'd uncapped the bottle and brought it halfway toward her lips, Chloe put a hand on her arm, stopping her. "Wait," she said, turning to Aubrey. "Aubrey, aren't you going to see reason on this? She's fine!"

Aubrey pursed her lips, and Chloe had an entire childhood of knowing that nothing good ever came from that expression.

"It's okay, Chloe," Beca reassured her. "I can handle it. And I did make a promise."

"But it's not okay," Chloe said firmly. "It doesn't matter. This is about trust. If we're going to do this together, if we're going to be Bellastogether, then we need to trust each other. Aubrey, you need to trust Beca."

"How do you feel right now?" Aubrey asked, eyes still narrowed.

Beca shrugged. "I know the routine inside and out, I know that I'm going to have a sophomore year, and my emotional needs are satisfactorily met." Chloe couldn't help smirking a little at that last. "I'm riding pretty high on life right now, actually."

"And you can absolutely guarantee that you'll stay calm on stage?" she pressed.

Putting a hand over her heart, Beca schooled her face into an absolutely solemn expression. "May my vocal cords be ripped out by wolves if I'm not."

"Be nice," Chloe whispered, tugging at a lock of her hair.

"Bellas," a guy holding a clipboard called into the room, "you're up in ten. We need you to move backstage. The Treblemakers are in front of you."

With one final shrug, Beca raised the potion to her lips.

"No!" Aubrey called, and Chloe let out a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding. "No, Beca. I trust you."

Well, finally. Chloe snagged the bottle out of Beca's hand, marched over to the trash can, and emptied the whole thing out. She offered the other girls a happy smile. "Let's do this."

Chloe knew that Bumper had run out on the Trebles with only three weeks remaining until ICCAs. She further knew that out of sheer desperation, Jesse had drafted Benji into helping them with a routine.

What she did not know was that Jesse had somehow convinced the other Treblemakers to turn their ICCA routine into a love poem crafted for one Aubrey Posen.

Jesse and Donald ping-ponged back and forth on Ben Folds's You Don't Know Me (with Donald doing a surprisingly good falsetto on Regina Spektor's part, Chloe noted) and Bruno Mars's Just the Way You Are (making Chloe wonder if Beca had told him about their mash-up experience at the pool) while Benji used his astonishingly pure tenor to weave B.o.B.'s Magic through the whole thing. Even if the songs hadn't tipped her off, the fact that Jesse winked and blew a kiss at Aubrey at the end was a dead giveaway.

As the Trebles trotted off-stage, Aubrey was openly crying, and Chloe was pretty sure that win or lose the ICCAs, Jesse Swanson had probably just won his case with Aubrey.

Fat Amy handed Aubrey a tissue to dab at her eyes, and Beca waited for Aubrey's nod to signal that she was ready to go on before they went on stage.

As soon as Chloe hit her initial mark, all of the tension and pre-performance jitters she'd been carrying the entire day melted away. Beca blew her single note on the pitch pipe, and Chloe's stage smile was absolutely genuine.

It was time to change the world of a capella.

"As cool as that was," Beca pointed out as she took a sip of her celebration beer, "you do realize that had you won first place with that routine, Aubrey would never have spoken to you again."

Jesse grinned, clearly more intoxicated with love than alcohol. "Nah. I knew you'd sweep it, Sparks. If you guys got second place with the lamest routine in aca-history, I figured that once they actually motivated your ass, you'd set the place on fire." He blinked. "Metaphorically."

"Between you and me," Beca said, leaning forward, "I think Lily might be a pyromaniac. Like, for real. Don't tell anyone, though." She drained her cup and immediately started looking around for another. "What did Aubrey say after we got off-stage?"

"Oh, nothing," he said with a dismissive hand wave.

She quirked an eyebrow. "Nothing?"

Placing a hand to his chest, he rolled his eyes upward in a fake swoon. "It was truly magical. She ran off the stage, into my strong, manly arms. Our lips touched. And then they announced the winners, and…"

"Do you think she's ever going to let go of that thing?" Beca asked skeptically.

Ever since the Barden Bellas were announced the 2012 ICCA National Champions, Aubrey had stayed within arm's length of the trophy. Currently, it was sitting on a table at the front of the banquet room the hotel had kindly leant them for their impromptu celebration party, and Aubrey was sitting right beside it, holding its base and beaming.

"She'll have to eventually," he replied. "I don't think they'll let her walk with it at graduation."

Graduation. That was right. This weekend, Aubrey and Chloe were graduating.

And… leaving?

Beca dropped her empty cup. "Jesse, Aubrey and Chloe are graduating!" she cried.

Smirking, he tapped her nose. "You're just now figuring that out? Maybe you need to lay off the booze, Becs."

With a huff and an eyeroll, she abandoned him and went immediately in search of Chloe. She wasn't difficult to find, not having strayed too far from their trophy at any point in the evening herself.

As Beca approached, Chloe grinned brightly and tipped her cup in a toast. "Pazdravlyayu, lyutishka!" she cried, almost-but-not-quite stumbling as she threw her arms around Beca. "We're so aca-spectacular!"

"Chloe, you're graduating on Saturday," Beca said frantically, not returning the hug. "What are we going to do? Are you leaving? We need to make plans! How did I not see this—"

Laughing, she cut Beca off with a brief kiss. "I'm not graduating," she announced. "I failed Russian literature."

Beca's eyes went wide. "But you speak, like, perfect Russian! How can you fail Russian lit?"

"It's for my wizarding degree," Chloe confessed. "Technically, I'm done with my Potions degree, but I've been accepted as Professor Davy's apprentice to begin my Potions mastery, and to stay enrolled at Barden, I have to fail a class. So even though I totes passed, my professor will enter a failing grade each year until I finish my mastery."

That sounded stupid enough to be a thing. Sometimes wizards went about things so ass-backward. "How long will that take?" Beca asked.

"Two years if I'm especially motivated, but I'm thinking more like three." She winked and Beca did some mental math. "After all, I can't let you run the Bellas into the ground, now can I?"

It was like a heavy weight she didn't know she'd been carrying was lifted from her shoulders. Smiling so widely it almost hurt, Beca leaned in and captured Chloe's lips in a searing kiss. Behind her, she heard Aubrey make some sort of snide remark, but then Chloe nibbled at Beca's bottom lip and the sounds of the party faded to white noise in Beca's ears.

The sound of every single light bulb in the chandelier above their heads exploding did manage to get her attention, though.

Chloe blushed. "Oops," she said lightly.

"You're gonna get the Obs called on us again," Beca chided, but she was grabbing the scarf wrapped around Chloe's waist and pulling her closer even as she spoke.

"You're worth it," Chloe replied, kissing her until the room faded away again.

FINIS

Translation note: Chloe tells Beca, "Congratulations, little buttercup!"