The morning of the tournament final dawns sunny and bright, the spring air crisp and cool. Char is sleeping in, but Robbie joins me for a breakfast of Lucky Charms.

"Just think, this is probably the last time we'll do this together," he says around a mouthful of marshmallows. He always saves those for last.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, Finnegan's going to have you living with him next season, and Char is going to turn your bedroom into a home office," he says with a frown. "I thought it might be a nice trophy room."

"Because you have enough awards to fill one," I put in sarcastically.

"It was just an idea," sulks Robbie. "But do you think you and Finnegan will make a go of it?"

"He asked me to move in with him earlier this week," I confess.

"I knew it!"

"It must have been your twintuition," I joke. "He thought we should move in together when the season ends. His house in Falmouth is really great, and it's so close to work."

"Awww…. Are you going to be one of those couples that share a broom ride into work?" His voice is sugary sweet.

"That does sound rather romantic," I say with a fake sigh and flutter of my eyelashes.

"More likely the two of you race each other, causing a complete spectacle every morning."

"Much more likely," I agree with a smirk.

"You worried about the game?"

"What the hell, Robbie!? I'm a Wood. I'm excited!"

I arrive at the stadium in my brand new game kit. It fits perfectly, and the O. Wood on the back makes me want to squeal in excitement like a third year girl her first time in Hogsmeade. I enter the locker room to find most of my teammates there, performing the usual pregame rituals. Jasper is doing his positive visualization technique where he envisions catching the snitch. He has his eyes closed and is slightly swaying as if meditating. Duncan and Rolland are putting on their gear while making rude faces at each other and mouthing curse words to pump themselves up. Montague has his playbook open on his lap and is flipping through plays that he's had memorized since August, while Gregor has a set of muggle headphones in his ears and is jamming out while he laces up his shoes.

Tossing my bag in my locker, I reach for my pads, starting the process of lacing them up. I'm halfway done, when a warm body settles on the bench right next to me. I know it's Finn without even glancing over. I offer him my right arm, and he laces up the guard before I do the same for him.

When coach storms in, full of bluster and vim, we swivel on the bench and everyone listens to him rant for a few moments. I don't hear much of what he says, focusing instead on the feel of Finn's arm around me, tucking me into his side. I love this calm before the game, when we're sheltered in the locker room it's like we're in the eye of the hurricane. By now, the stands are filled to capacity, and the crowd is likely working itself into a frenzy.

"Now let's go out there and show them that we're the best bloody team in this whole fucking league!"

My teammates are letting out manly roars of enthusiasm and on their feet stomping and clapping, and I want to laugh at the idea of yelling. Participating in such a masculine ritual as myself seems suddenly so ridiculous, but it's the Falcons. I can't hold it in, and my laugh is about to break forth when Finn swings me in his arms, bends me backwards, and plants one on me, causing time to nearly stop.

When he pulls away, he's managed to grab both our brooms and hands me mine. I'm still a little dazed, and out of the corner of my eye, I can see Rolland watching us with a smirk. He winks, before shouldering his broom and lining up to file out the room. Finn prods me forward, and I turn around to look at his twinkling blue eyes.

"What was that for?!" I hiss.

"Good luck ritual," he grins back. "Fantastic surprise kisses."

"A little warning next time!" I hiss back, my hand on my hip.

"If I warned you, then it wouldn't be a surprise!"

I huff and follow Rolland out of the room, down the player's tunnel to the entrance of the pitch. Looking out, all you can see is the stands completely full of fans. The biggest stadium in England, and it's filled to capacity. The light show has ended, and the announcer is announcing the Arrows players who shoot out of their tunnel with a burst of color, the fireworks whizzing past them as they take flight. They make a lap around the stadium before we're announced.

When my name is called, I kick off and make my usual flight round the pitch, trying not to notice how much louder the cheers are than normal, and smiling secretly when I see a troop of Witch Scouts wearing their uniforms and holding a huge banner that reads, Olivia Wood, Win for Us! #WitchesRule. I blow them a kiss and wave with a smile, causing them to jump up and down in excitement. Flying past the family box, I wave at my family before falling into my pattern of standard warm up maneuvers before Coach tosses me a quaffle and the three of us chasers engage in a rapid set of passing drills.

Warm ups last exactly 20 minutes before we're called down for the toss. Montague and McLaggan shake hands, and the rest of us line up. I look across the way at Kendra McNabb, their new left chase. She looks practically green. She played well against the Wasps, but not spectacularly. I'm going to humiliate her so badly, her ancestors will hide their faces in their portraits.

The whistle blows, and I'm off like a cannon, snagging the first possession as the crowd roars in excitement. I spin away from a bludger, and pass to Bork, dropping into formation next to Montague. We pass the ball between the three of us as we storm the rings, coming up to the left hand ring and I score the first ten points for Falmouth. The gong sounds, the crowd cheers, and we're off again, tailing the Arrows. I crowd in next to McNabb, and when she gets a pass, I sidle up to her easily, snagging the ball from under her arm, and doing a swift upside down reverse and twist, we're heading back toward the Arrow's posts. This time Bork takes the shot, and with another bang of the gong, we're up 20 points to nothing.

Within the first hour, it's obvious that these Arrows aren't the same ones we've seen all season, and it's obvious that this isn't going to be the same tooth and nail match we fought last week. McNabb is good, but not part of a well oiled machine. The chasers are missing passes, falling out of formation, and poor McLaggan is going to lose his voice screaming out directions.

We've pulled so far ahead, by the time the snitch is caught, it's a bit of an afterthought. With the snitch caught, we've won by over 400 points. The final score of 540 to 110 is rather outstanding, and not really a fair reflection of how well the Arrows played all season. But we've beat them twice this tournament and we're the champions.

When Jasper catches the snitch, the Falcon's fans are going completely crazy, which considering we haven't won a tournament in over fifteen years is pretty exciting for most of them. I'm right in front of the family box when play stops, and I look over to see my family celebrating and I throw back my head and let out the Falcon Cry with all of the fans in the stands as the snitch chimes start. We won! We really won!

x

I'm startled when I feel an arm wrap around me, and suddenly Finn is right there grinning, tears in his eyes. If I could jump off my broom, I might have, but I settled for throwing myself against him and kissing the daylights out of him.

"Fifty-four saves!" I exclaim, pulling away. "Merlin you're amazing!"

"Twenty-one goals, you're amazing!" he says against my lips pulling me back in.

"Hey! Wake up you two! There's a whole team here that wants to celebrate too!" exclaims Rolland from right below us, where the team is gathering. Coach is already making his way from the coaching box. We shoot down to the field, dropping our brooms in the grass as we throw ourselves into the huddle of our teammates gathered around Jasper who is holding the snitch aloft. The stands are chanting out the fight song, and coach has actual tears running down his face when he finally lands pulling us each into bear hugs as he greets us.

"That was beautiful, Wood," he says shaking his head. "Pure artistry. And Finnegan, that might be a league record for a Cup game."

We're all hugging and crying and finally, Finn and I are kissing again while Rolland makes gagging noises in the background. When Albert Jorkins, the current Commissioner arrives from the executive box, management right on his heels, we've settled a bit into the proper solemnity for receiving the award. A stage appears in the middle of the pitch, and the commissioner steps up to the podium. He presents the award to Coach, who passes it to an exuberant Montague who has a boyish grin on his sweaty face, who passes it to the rest of the team. Rolland plants a kiss on the cup before reverently passing it to me. I loft it into the air amid the cheers of the crowd and grin before passing it to Hart who at the end of the line has the opportunity to clutch it to his chest for a few moments before management comes over to get their grubby hands on it.

Then, Jorkins announces that they will be revealing the Cup MVP. We all hold our breath a little, it could be any of us, but I think we all know who it will be. When Finnegan's name is announced, his crooked grin appears as he steps up to shake hands with the commissioner and take the award. He returns to his place in line next to Montague, who pats him on the back and whispers something in his ear. Finnegan looks over to me, and I mouth I love you, and blow a kiss. The commissioner walks down the line and shakes each of our hands, and then we're arranged into a traditional photo, the cup cradled in Jasper's hands as we all stand in neat formation with the commissioner, Coach, and management. I know my hair is probably coming lose, and my grin is too big, but it's going to be a great picture. Standing next to Finn, who is splitting center with Montague, I look over at him and finally have a chance to give him that congratulatory kiss for making MVP. I hear another click, but I guess the press will get their shot either way.

After that, it's passing the cup, and greeting the family that's arriving on the field, pushing their way through the press to lift me in the air and pass me from brother to brother until I end up in my dad's strong arms. There's champagne bottles opening, the corks shooting across the field, wizards letting off fireworks, the stadium is blaring celebratory music.

"You've always been my number one girl," dad says, tears in his eyes as he buzzes his lips against my cheek. "I'm so proud. You were magnificent! Total MVP in my book."

"I'm your only daughter," I sigh with a roll of my eyes before pulling him tight. When Oliver Wood says you were amazing, you know you played well, even if you are his only daughter and he's biased as shit.

"Livvie's first league cup!" exclaims mum, snapping a candid photo before pulling me in for a hug. "And Finn! Come get a picture of the two of you!"

Finn turns from his parents who have stormed the field as well and are grinning. His mum is holding his MVP trophy with a reverence that might have been reserved for Merlin's Wand. They both gasp and pull me in for hugs. Finn and I pose for a picture for mum, but soon we're back in the locker room, changing quickly before we head to the victory party at Montague's.

It's a bit of a blur once they brought out the fire whiskey, but the food was great, and everyone was over the moon to have won in an undefeated tournament run.

The next morning, I wake up at Finnegan's. I'm tucked into his side, and I'm probably a bit hungover. I don't tend to overindulge, but last night was a huge celebration. I'm pretty sure the minister of magic himself showed up at Montague's last night. Last night made every stress of the year worth it. I'm not saying quidditch is only fun when you win, but it makes a pretty big difference.

"Good morning, luv," comes Finn's gruff morning voice as he rolls over and pulls me tight against his warm chest.

"Good morning, Mr. MVP," I say leaning over and kissing him on the cheek. His lips twitch in a grin.

"I could get used to hearing that," he says.

"Mmm… don't get too used it. I expect to steal the title from you next year," I joke.

"In your dreams, Wood," he laughs.

"All night long," I giggle.

We flip through the Prophet, Quidditch Quarterly's Special Edition, Quidditch Weekly, Witch Weekly, the Quibbler, and The Daily Rumor over breakfast. I magic up some pancakes, and we flip through all the articles, clipping them out and putting them in the keepsake box Finn's mother started for him back at Hogwarts. I know mum will be spellotaping them into a scrapbook for me by noon and owling Gran and Grandpa Wood to collect extra copies from their friends.

"That's one nice picture," Finn says, causing me to look over from the bacon I'm frying to see a large full page color photo of us kissing mid-air after the snitch was caught. My blonde braid is flying in the wind, and Finn's big gloved keeper hand is wrapped around my waist, and our robes ripple in the wind. His large body dwarfing mine makes me seem impossibly small, even in quidditch gear on a broom. We grin at each other before photo-me wraps my arms around his shoulders, pulling him in for a kiss. The headline above the photo proclaims CUP MVP TAKEN LADIES!

"Damn right," I say with a grin. "Hands off fan-girls. I'm keeping this keeper!"

"Funny how I'm the taken one," ponders Murphy. "What about you? No chasing my chaser!"

"You're reading Witch Weekly," I point out helpfully. "Typical readership won't exactly care if I'm single."

"Good point," he concedes.

"So how bad do you think media Monday will be?" I ask with a grin.

"Worse than usual considering this will be their opportunity to get the scoop on your season, and our relationship."

"I think I'll wear a dress," I decide. "Make them think they'll have it easy."

Somehow we make it through Media Monday, the day that basically everyone in pro-quidditch is forced into interviews about the previous season and the upcoming one. Reporters barrage you with questions, and things you say might not make the news until next August where they're construed into something entirely different. Dad absolutely dreads this day all year. He frets more about it than a mouth healer visit, and he doesn't really care for those at all.

It's held in the ballroom on the seventh floor in the ministry of Magic, Department of Games and Sports. We'll all be back here for the end of year banquet next week, but today is always a mess. I wear a gray dress, a black blazer, and a pair of gold stiletto heels that make me taller than the majority of the reporters (so I can look down on them). I stay close to Finn, but can't help but keep an eye on Robbie.

He's under a bit of heat from the League for his shenanigans. Apparently, the Falcon's have totally forgiven him, but the fact that he signed two contracts wasn't as okay with his team, who are upset that they marketed him under a lesser name for the past year under false pretenses. They've decided to fine him for the rebranding, which I find ridiculous considering they're going to make a huge profit reselling all the merchandise with his real name on it.

Dad seems to have the same idea as me, because I can see him keeping near Robbie as well. I'm not sure exactly what we're supposed to do if something idiotic comes out of his mouth, but I guess we'll be there for moral support. I think I answer a hundred questions about my fall, am asked a thousand times about my relationship with Finn, and only one person thinks to ask me what I'm predicting for next year. All in all, media madness is done, and I'm not looking forward to it again next year. Honestly the appetizers they serve that are supposed to make the entire thing worth it weren't even that good.

The League Banquet is the following Saturday and officially closes the season. I have a lace gold dress to wear to the occasion, a floor length mermaid gown with a sweetheart neckline. The headpiece that goes with it makes it another twenties throwback, but it coordinates with the three piece suit I got for Finn. It's really flattering with my subtle tan, and I feel fabulous.

The Falcons get front row seats at the banquet, our tables being the closest to the stage. Across the way are the Arrows, and just a few tables over Robbie. Poor mum and dad are in the back half of the room with Davie at the Puddlemere tables, in what dad always calls 'The drowning your season's disappointment in firewhiskey section.'

The dinner is followed by awards and speeches. The speeches everyone ignores while we drink and finish our dessert, but the awards are something to perk up for. The first to be presented is the Dangerous Dai Commemorative Medal, which ends up going to Matthew Lewis, the Tornado's Keeper who is always nearly falling off his broom or crashing into someone making a fantastic save. It's entertaining, it's usually not a foul, and the fans love him for it. His team can't catch a snitch to save their life, and they didn't have a great season, but every game was entertaining.

The next award, The Septimus Selby Snitch Snatcher Award goes to the seeker with the most snitches in the fastest time on the season. No one is really surprised when it goes to the Arrow's Seeker Liam Jones. The Perseus Black Distinguished Coaching Award ends up going to Coach Birch, which isn't uncommon when a team wins the cup for the first time under a new coach. In fact, it's unusual if they don't win it. We all stand and clap wildly when a beaming and blushing Coach marches up to the podium to accept.

There are a myriad of other awards, including Foulest Player(Jared Goyle), Kingman's Keeper of the Year (Murphy Finnegan), Most Sportsmanlike Team (Chudley Cannons-hey they have to win something), Best Gameday Experience (Wingtown Warriors), Most Charismatic Captain (Gretchen Winners), Most Coordinated Clobberers (Zilich Twins), and finally Rookie of the Year.

I'm thrilled when they announce Murphy for Kingman's, and he honestly looks a little shocked, but I kiss him quick and then nudge him into action. He accepts it humbly, just like he did the Cup MVP award. We all know his performance this season has been stellar. He's really allowed the chasers to take control of many of the games this season, even ones where Jasper didn't catch the snitch allowing us to still win.

Rookie of the Year is one of the biggest awards. It's given every year to someone who stands out among first year first string players. It's a big one because anyone can win, seeker to keeper, and it's usually the harbinger of a standout career. Dad won in '97, and Davie won in '10, and it's been widely accepted that I'm a real contender for this year. Finnegan takes my hand under the table and squeezes as the commissioner takes back the podium from the Zilich Twins and looks down at the next card.

"The next award for Rookie of the Year goes to a player who has been most deserving of this award for many reasons. Not only has this player set team and league records this season and contributed monumentally to their team's success, but they have also changed the league forever in a positive way. This League's Rookie of the Year goes to Miss Olivia Wood, the first female Falcon." The commissioner pauses for effect as the crowd cheers. I can feel Finn pressing a kiss to my cheek, but I'm in shock. I mean… I thought maybe, but… "On the field she's demonstrated an unparalleled ability to steal the ball from her opponents, setting a new league record for a single game. She's also demonstrated an aptitude for teamwork, setting a team record for number of assists in a single season. Her ability to break through barriers of tradition has forever changed the Falcons team. It's been a pleasure to watch her this season, and I'm excited to see more from her in the future. Please come on up to accept your award Miss Wood!"

I'm nervous and my hands are sweating. I try and think about what Murphy said in his little acceptance speech but my mind is blank. I should have prepared something, but I was sure it would jinx it. I hurry to the podium and accept the trophy from the commissioner and shake his hand with a smile.

I step up to the microphone and give my audience a smile as they slow their applause. "Hi…." I start awkwardly. "I never really expected to be here today, you know I didn't really have any first string offers at the end of my seventh year. I guess I was lucky my brother had two, right?" I pause and let out a shaky breath as everyone laughs. "The truth is, as a woman in quidditch, we're constantly underestimated. I had an opportunity to show everyone how good I could be without everyone knowing I was a woman. And somewhere along the way-between my first professional game and today, I realized I can be just as good as any male player in this league if I just believed in myself and worked hard enough. I'm so honored to have received this award which reinforces my belief that hard work, determination, and courage can get you anywhere. I've been blessed with talent and a wonderful support system that helped me through this entire season. My teammates and coaches have taught me so much this year, and I've been honored to have been a part of this year's Falmouth Falcon's team. Coach, you were inspiring! Montague and Gregor, working with you has been a dream come true. Rolland and Duncan, you're like two more brothers I didn't really need, but you guys make me laugh every practice. Jasper, the advice on the ladies was not really wanted or appreciated, but you were the first to accept me on the team, and for that I'm forever grateful." The team is laughing from their table, and I am feeling a little better about the whole giving a speech thing. "I'd like to give special thanks to my twin brother Robbie, who lent me his identity and some of his confidence which allowed me to even play this year. Thanks also to my dad, Oliver Wood, who taught me everything he knows about quidditch, my mum, Katie Wood, who healed my numerous quidditch injuries growing up, and my brothers David, Kenny, Quinn, Graeme, and Walter, who never failed to take me up on an offer of pick up quidditch. And last, to my best friend and fiancé, Murphy Finnegan, who has been with me through this crazy season, from when we were eating donuts scouting the Kestrel games to Media Monday, I couldn't have done it without you. Once again, thank you for this award, it means so much! I can't wait to show everyone what I can do next year!"

I hurry away from the podium amid the roaring applause, and sink into my seat next to Finn, sighing with relief. He leans over and presses a kiss on my forehead, pulling me into his side as the commissioner steps back up for the next award.

"Best friend and fiancé," he whispers in my ear as the commissioner goes on about the next award. I sit up straighter in my chair. Did I say that? Out loud!?

"Feck…" I mutter as he chuckles.

"I figure the odds of me surviving your dad and brothers are better this way," he laughs. "Now I don't really have to tell them to their faces. They'll have time to cool off."

"They're all going to be so happy for me. I don't know what you're talking about," I protest in a hiss. Fin has been worried he should have asked dad first, but I am an independent witch and asking my father for my hand in marriage goes against that. And also, I think Finn is actually terrified of my dad.

"Your dad's face is the color of a tomato, and he looks like he's going to explode any minute," points out Rolland on the other side of me with a grin.

"Merlin's left bullock," I sigh glancing over my shoulder to see dad looking at Finnegan with a glare.

"Well, you did say no more secrets," concedes Finn.

"Cat's out of the bag I guess…"

Thank you all so much for your support and enthusiasm as I wrote this. It's been so fun to write and see your reactions. I hope you liked it. I already have an epilogue of sorts in the works. Thanks again for reading and please review. Also, check out my other fics too. Thanks so much! E.A.