(A/N) Bonus update! Chapter 38 will be out Tuesday night, maybe Wednesday for most of you depending on Time Zone. Cheers guys, thanks for the support!

Chapter 37

6 IN A ROW FOR PUDDLEMERE!

Puddlemere, led by the Big Three of Potter, Pucey, and Wood, have asserted their dominance on the pitch over the last six weeks, rattling off six consecutive victories and leaving little doubt about their championship ambitions. Saturday afternoon, with the help of his star-studded defense, Oliver Wood SHUT OUT the Pride of Portree, handing them the biggest loss of the year so far in a staggering 350–0 rout. The League and its fans are now looking at what could very well become an MVP season for Wood in his first year of captaincy, while Harry Potter has all but stolen Rookie of the Year three-quarters of the way through the season. With Adrian Pucey continuing to dominate the scoring charts alongside them, this Puddlemere side is beginning to look unstoppable!

Brooklyn Brown, Puddlemere Press

POTTER CREDITS SUCCESS TO TRAINING WITH BACKUP SEEKER CHANG

Puddlemere United’s remarkable run continued Saturday afternoon as Harry Potter caught the Snitch against the Pride of Portree, sealing a dominant 350–0 victory and extending United’s winning streak to six straight matches.

Puddlemere once again controlled the match from beginning to end. Adrian Pucey led another relentless offensive performance, Captain Oliver Wood kept Portree scoreless, and Potter needed little more than an hour to put the match away with his seventh Snitch catch of the season.

Yet when reporters asked Potter afterward about the remarkable consistency he has shown throughout his rookie campaign, the eighteen-year-old Seeker was quick to redirect some of the credit toward an unlikely source: Puddlemere backup Seeker Cho Chang.

“Training against her every day makes me better,” Potter said after the match. “She’s fast, she’s aggressive, and she sees things differently than I do. If I get lazy for even a second in training, she’ll beat me. Having someone like that chasing you around the pitch every day certainly doesn’t hurt.”

Chang became an overnight sensation earlier this season when Potter was knocked unconscious against the Ballycastle Bats. Entering the match cold with Puddlemere’s victory suddenly in jeopardy, Chang stunned the League by finding and catching the Snitch to preserve the win. She has not appeared in a match since Potter returned to the lineup, but those inside Puddlemere say Chang’s role with the club has continued to grow.

Sources close to the team say Potter and Chang now regularly train together under Seeker Coach Robertson, often remaining on the pitch long after official practices have ended. Teammates have reportedly become accustomed to seeing the two Seekers racing one another through increasingly difficult drills while the rest of the club heads for the showers.

Potter dismissed suggestions that the arrangement has created competition between the two.

“She wants me to be better, and I want her to be better,” Potter said. “That’s what teammates are supposed to do.”

For Puddlemere, however, Chang’s rapidly growing reputation may eventually create a different problem. After her performance against Ballycastle and Potter’s continued praise of her abilities, League observers have begun openly questioning how long Puddlemere will be able to keep two starting-caliber Seekers on the same roster. Several clubs are expected to enter the offseason searching for help at the position, and Chang’s name is quickly becoming one of the most intriguing in the League.

For now, Puddlemere appears more than happy to have both. With Potter continuing an almost certain Rookie of the Year campaign, Wood firmly in the MVP conversation, Pucey among the League’s most dangerous scorers, and perhaps the most talented backup Seeker in Britain waiting on the bench, the question surrounding Puddlemere is beginning to change.

It may no longer be whether anyone can stop them.

It may be whether anyone can even keep up.

Brooklyn Brown, Puddlemere Press

POTTER ENDS SIX-HOUR SHOOTOUT AGAINST HOLYHEAD

If anyone still believed Puddlemere United could only win one way, the Holyhead Harpies may have finally put that argument to rest.

Six hours, 137 goals, and more than a few exhausted substitutes later, Harry Potter finally pulled the Golden Snitch from beneath the Harpies’ western stands Saturday evening, bringing one of the highest-scoring matches of the season to a merciful end and giving Puddlemere a staggering 830–690 victory.

It was Puddlemere’s seventh consecutive win, but unlike the comfortable victories that have defined much of their recent run, there was nothing comfortable about this one.

Holyhead came to score.

Leading the charge was young Chaser Ginny Weasley, who delivered the finest performance of her career and repeatedly punished a Puddlemere defense that simply could not find a way to keep the Harpies off the board for long. Weasley attacked from seemingly every angle, scoring herself, creating opportunities for her fellow Chasers, and refusing to allow Puddlemere to pull away despite United answering nearly every Holyhead surge with one of their own.

For most of the afternoon, Oliver Wood appeared to be the only thing standing between the Harpies and an outright offensive explosion.

Puddlemere’s captain was superb through the marathon affair, making several spectacular saves and turning away enough close-range opportunities to keep United narrowly ahead through much of the match. But with both teams forced to rotate players during a contest that stretched deep into its sixth hour, Wood could not remain between the hoops indefinitely.

Those rest periods nearly cost Puddlemere the match.

Each time Wood left the pitch, Holyhead attacked.

Puddlemere’s reserve Keeper endured a brutal afternoon, surrendering multiple rapid scoring runs during Wood’s breaks and repeatedly watching comfortable Puddlemere leads disappear in a matter of minutes. On one particularly disastrous rotation late in the fourth hour, Holyhead scored six unanswered goals before Wood could return to the pitch.

By then, what had begun as another impressive Puddlemere performance had become a full-scale shootout.

Adrian Pucey and the Puddlemere Chasers responded in kind.

Pucey once again demonstrated why he remains one of the League’s most feared offensive players, helping Puddlemere keep pace as the scoreboard climbed into increasingly absurd territory. Every time Weasley appeared to ignite a Holyhead comeback, Pucey and company seemed to answer with another barrage at the opposite end.

Neither side could create enough separation to finish the other.

That left Potter.

For nearly six hours, the Puddlemere Seeker chased a Snitch that seemed determined to make both teams suffer. Potter was spotted on it several times throughout the match, but each pursuit ended with the Snitch disappearing into the crowded stadium, beneath the stands, or back into open air before either Seeker could close the distance. As daylight began to fade and players from both clubs showed visible signs of exhaustion, Potter finally found his opportunity.

The Snitch appeared low along the western side of the stadium.

Potter saw it first.

Holyhead’s Seeker followed only seconds later, but by then Potter had already gone into a dive. He disappeared beneath the lowest row of stands at a speed that sent several spectators scrambling backward before emerging moments later with one hand raised above his head.

The Snitch was inside it.

The catch ended the six-hour marathon and pushed Puddlemere’s winning streak to seven, continuing a remarkable midseason run that has transformed Wood’s club from championship hopeful into the team every other contender is now chasing.

For Holyhead, the final score will sting, but Saturday hardly felt like a defeat worthy of embarrassment. The Harpies became only the latest team to discover just how difficult Puddlemere has become to finish off, and Weasley’s performance will undoubtedly leave the rest of the League paying considerably more attention whenever Holyhead takes the pitch again.

Holyhead captain Gwenog Jones had nothing but praise for the club that had just handed her side their third loss.

“I’ve played in this League long enough to know when you’re playing against a special team,” Jones said. “Puddlemere played with class and respect from the first whistle to the last. They never took their foot off us, but they never rubbed it in either. If they make it to the Championship, I know who I’ll be cheering for.”

For Puddlemere, there may be a different concern.

United has spent much of the season looking nearly invincible with Wood guarding the hoops. Saturday offered the clearest evidence yet that the same may not be true when their captain is forced to leave them.

Against Holyhead, Puddlemere survived it.

Against a championship opponent, they may not be so fortunate.

CHANDLER REFUSES TO RULE OUT RETIREMENT AFTER PUDDLEMERE WIN

Puddlemere United’s march toward the Championship continued Saturday with another convincing victory, but for once it was not Harry Potter, Oliver Wood, or Adrian Pucey dominating the questions after the final whistle.

Puddlemere defeated the Wigtown Wanderers 390–110, extending the club’s winning streak to eight consecutive matches and moving United within touching distance of securing its place in the Championship.

Potter once again supplied the finish, catching the Golden Snitch after just under two hours of play, while Puddlemere’s increasingly celebrated defense, led by veteran Garrett Chandler, held Wigtown comfortably enough for United’s Chasers to build a lead long before the Snitch decided the result.

For a team that has spent much of the last two months producing one headline after another, it was another remarkably routine victory.

The larger story came afterward.

Veteran Puddlemere Chaser Garrett Chandler refused to rule out the possibility that the current season could be his last.

Speculation surrounding Chandler’s future has quietly grown throughout the second half of the season, with the longtime Chaser approaching the end of another contract and several League observers questioning whether the veteran intends to return for another full campaign.

Asked directly Saturday whether supporters should expect to see him wearing Puddlemere blue next season, Chandler smiled before offering an answer unlikely to quiet the rumors.

“I love this game, and I love my team,” Chandler said. “This has been one of the best groups I’ve played with in my career. I couldn’t possibly tell you what the future holds until the season is done, but what I can tell you is that I'll never wear another team's colors. You can quote me on that.”

Hardly the emphatic denial Puddlemere supporters may have been hoping for. Chandler has never been the loudest name on Puddlemere’s roster, particularly this season with Potter’s spectacular rookie campaign, Pucey’s offensive production, and Wood’s emergence as an MVP candidate commanding much of the League’s attention.

Inside the club, however, his value has never been measured entirely by goals.

The veteran Chaser has spent over a decade in the British and Irish League and has become one of Puddlemere’s most dependable presences both on the pitch and inside the changing room. While Pucey has increasingly become the centerpiece of United’s attack, Chandler remains the experienced hand beside him, rarely spectacular but even more rarely out of position.

He has also been one of the steadying voices on a Puddlemere side that entered the season with a first-year captain, an eighteen-year-old rookie Seeker, and considerably more questions than answers.

Those questions have disappeared quickly.

Puddlemere has not lost since its early-season marathon defeat to Montrose and now owns one of the longest active winning streaks in the League. Wood’s first season as captain has exceeded even the most optimistic expectations, Potter appears to have Rookie of the Year almost completely secured, and United now stands one victory away from completing one of the most impressive regular seasons in recent club history.

For Chandler, that success may be making the possibility of walking away more complicated.

“This is a special group,” Charlotte Dubois said when asked about the veteran’s future. “Garrett knows that. We all know that. Nobody in that room is thinking about next season right now because we still have something to finish.”

Potter appeared genuinely surprised when reporters informed him that Chandler’s future had become a subject of speculation.

“Garrett hasn’t said anything to us,” Potter said. “As far as I’m concerned, he’s our Chaser and we’re trying to win a championship together. That’s about as far ahead as I’m looking.”

Perhaps that difference in perspective is inevitable.

At eighteen, Potter is only beginning a professional career that many around the League believe could eventually become historic. Every match seems to introduce another first: another stadium, another opponent, another record, another lesson about life at the highest level of the sport.

Chandler has already lived those years.

He has endured losing seasons and winning ones, injuries, roster changes, coaching changes, long road trips, longer matches, and more training sessions than most young players could begin to count. He understands better than almost anyone in the Puddlemere changing room that professional teams rarely remain together forever.

Even the good ones.

Especially the good ones.

For that reason, his description of this year’s Puddlemere squad as “one of the best groups” of his career carried considerably more weight than another compliment about United’s growing collection of victories.

The possibility of retirement also adds another layer of urgency to a season already accelerating toward its conclusion.

Puddlemere has just one regular-season match remaining, against the Wimbourne Wasps.

Win, and United will guarantee its place in the Championship.

Across the League, the Montrose Magpies continue to win as well, leaving increasingly little doubt about the matchup supporters have anticipated since the middle of the season.

Montrose handed Puddlemere its only defeat.

Puddlemere has not lost since.

Chandler would not say Saturday whether this season will be his last.

If it is, however, he may have the opportunity to finish it in the biggest match British Quidditch has to offer.

And perhaps with the best team of his career.

THE REMATCH IS SET: PUDDLEMERE VS. MONTROSE FOR THE CHAMPIONSHIP

For months, it has felt inevitable. Now it is official.

Puddlemere United completed its remarkable regular season Saturday afternoon with a 320–100 victory over the Wimbourne Wasps, while the Montrose Magpies took care of business several hours later to secure the other place in the British and Irish League Championship.

The matchup that supporters across Britain have spent the second half of the season anticipating is finally set.

Puddlemere United. Montrose Magpies. One more match before a champion is crowned.

For Puddlemere, Saturday’s victory over Wimbourne represented one final continuation of what has become almost routine over the last several months.

Adrian Pucey and the United Chasers built an early advantage. Oliver Wood and his defense protected it. Harry Potter found the Golden Snitch.

Potter’s catch ended the match and completed an 11–1 regular season for Puddlemere, extending the club’s winning streak to nine consecutive matches.

Their last defeat?

Montrose.

That fact has hung over Puddlemere almost from the moment the final whistle sounded on the two clubs’ first meeting. The early-season contest became one of the longest and most dramatic matches of the year, stretching for nearly seven hours before Montrose Seeker MaCloud finally beat Potter to the Golden Snitch and handed Puddlemere what would ultimately become its only loss of the regular season.

Potter has played eleven other matches since the season began.

He has not been beaten to the Snitch by another starting Seeker in any of them.

That distinction still belongs exclusively to MaCloud.

“I remember it,” Potter said Saturday when asked how often he thinks about the first Montrose match. “Of course I do. He beat me. There’s no point pretending otherwise.”

Potter paused before quickly rejecting the suggestion that the Championship represented an opportunity for personal revenge.

“But this isn’t me against MaCloud,” he continued. “It wasn’t the first time, either. We lost that match as a team, and if we win this one, we’ll win it as a team. I’m not interested in getting even. I’m interested in winning a Championship.”

If Potter hoped to remove some of the attention from his rematch with MaCloud, he is unlikely to succeed. The two Seekers have taken remarkably different paths toward their second meeting.

MaCloud entered the season as one of the League’s established stars, a veteran already accustomed to the expectations that accompany playing for Montrose. Potter entered it having never played a professional Quidditch match.

Twelve matches later, Potter is the overwhelming favorite for Rookie of the Year, has rewritten expectations for first-year Seekers, and will enter the Championship as one of the most recognizable players in the sport.

MaCloud has noticed.

“He is a considerably better Seeker now than the one I faced earlier in the season,” MaCloud said after Montrose secured its Championship place. “Anyone who has watched him this year can see that.”

Asked whether that made him more concerned about their second meeting, the Montrose Seeker laughed.

“No. It makes me more excited for it.”

The respect between the two clubs has done little to diminish the anticipation surrounding the matchup.

Montrose has spent the season proving its early victory over Puddlemere was no accident, continuing to win even as Wood’s club tore through nearly everyone placed in front of it.

Puddlemere, meanwhile, responded to that defeat by simply refusing to lose again.

Nine matches.

Nine victories.

Some were comfortable.

Some were brutal.

Some were ridiculous.

United shut out the Pride of Portree 350–0, survived a six-hour offensive war against the Holyhead Harpies, watched backup Seeker Cho Chang preserve a victory after Potter was knocked unconscious against Ballycastle, and continued winning through injuries, substitutions, marathon matches, and a schedule that offered increasingly few places to hide.

Every week seemed to produce a different reason Puddlemere should finally slow down.

Every week ended the same way.

Another victory.

Captain Oliver Wood, whose first season wearing the captain’s badge has placed him firmly among the favorites for League Most Valuable Player, was considerably less interested in discussing what Puddlemere’s winning streak might mean.

“We’ve spent the entire season earning one more match,” Wood said after Saturday’s victory. “Now we’ve got it.”

When asked whether defeating Montrose would mean more because of the earlier loss, Wood shook his head.

“It means more because it’s the Championship.”

That may be the most important difference between the two meetings. The first time Puddlemere and Montrose faced one another, Potter was still learning what professional Quidditch demanded of him. Wood was still learning how to captain one of the League’s most scrutinized clubs. Puddlemere was a talented roster trying to determine exactly what kind of team it could become.

The answer appears considerably clearer now.

The same can be said of Montrose.

The Magpies have remained among the League’s most consistent clubs from the opening weeks of the season and refused to surrender their place at the top even as Puddlemere’s winning streak consumed most of the attention around them.

MaCloud insists Montrose has never been particularly concerned with the noise.

“We knew Puddlemere would be there at the end,” he said. “You don’t play a team for seven hours and come away thinking they’re going to disappear. They’re excellent. So are we.”

When told that some bookmakers are expected to make Puddlemere the favorite entering the Championship, MaCloud shrugged.

“Then somebody might make some money betting on us.”

Potter laughed when the comment was repeated to him.

“I’ve been on all sides of the betting pool; it doesn’t faze me anymore. MaCloud is a class act; his nonchalance is something I admire about his game.”

The smiles are unlikely to last much longer. For Potter, the Championship offers the chance to complete one of the most extraordinary rookie seasons the League has seen.

For Wood, it offers the chance to lift the trophy in his first year as captain.

For veterans such as Garrett Chandler, whose future beyond this season remains uncertain, it may represent one final opportunity to finish a long career on top.

And for Puddlemere itself, it offers something the club has been chasing from the first day of training.

A Championship.

Standing in the way is the only team that has already proven it can beat them.

The regular season is over.

The awards will soon be handed out.

The records are nearly written.

There is only one match left.

Puddlemere United vs. Montrose Magpies.

The rematch is finally here.

WOOD NAMED LEAGUE MVP; POTTER CAPS HISTORIC ROOKIE SEASON

The regular season belonged to the undefeated Magpies. The award show, Puddlemere stole.

The British and Irish Quidditch League announced its end-of-season honors Thursday morning, naming Puddlemere captain Oliver Wood the League’s Most Valuable Player and eighteen-year-old Seeker Harry Potter the unanimous Rookie of the Year, capping a regular season in which United finished 11–1 and earned a place opposite the Montrose Magpies in the League Championship.

For Wood, the award completes a remarkable first season as captain.

For Potter, it makes official what has seemed inevitable for months.

And for Puddlemere, the announcement provides one more reminder of just how dramatically expectations surrounding the club have changed since training camp.

Wood received the League’s highest individual honor after anchoring the best defensive unit in Quidditch and leading Puddlemere through a nine-match winning streak to close the regular season. His year included a historic 350–0 shutout of the Pride of Portree, several dominant performances in close matches, and the steady leadership of a roster that entered the season with enormous talent but no shortage of uncertainty.

Wood was promoted to captain only this year, replacing the leadership structure that had guided Puddlemere through previous seasons.

The transition has been seamless.

Perhaps unsurprisingly, Wood seemed considerably less interested in discussing the trophy than everyone else.

“It’s an honor,” Wood said after Thursday's training session. “Of course it is. There are brilliant players all over this League, and having people believe I deserved it means a lot.”

Then came the answer anyone familiar with Wood probably expected.

“I’d trade it for the next win without thinking twice.”

Puddlemere teammates laughed when informed of the comment.

“That’s Oliver,” Potter said. “You could hand him every award in Britain and he’d probably ask whether they could melt them down into another Championship trophy.”

Wood’s MVP victory was hardly the only Puddlemere celebration Thursday.

Potter was named Rookie of the Year, receiving every first-place vote cast for the award after producing one of the greatest debut seasons by a Seeker in League history.

The numbers explain why. Potter caught the Golden Snitch ten times in twelve regular-season matches, establishing a new British and Irish League rookie record for Snitch catches.

The previous rookie mark had stood for years.

Potter broke it before his nineteenth birthday, which also marks the most catches made by a teenager ever in the British & Irish League. Even on the world stage, only Viktor Krum can boast more catches in any professional league as a teenager.

More remarkably, there were only two matches all year in which Potter failed to make the deciding catch.

One came against Ballycastle, when Potter was knocked unconscious during the match and backup Seeker Cho Chang entered in his place before catching the Snitch herself.

The other came against Montrose.

MaCloud remains the only opposing starting Seeker to beat Potter to the Snitch during his rookie season. Potter will get one more opportunity against him in the Championship.

“It’s a nice record,” Potter said when asked about the ten catches. “I didn’t know what the rookie record was until someone told me I’d broken it.”

That answer drew disbelief from several reporters.

Potter shrugged.

“I’m serious. Robertson keeps enough numbers in his head for both of us.”

When pushed on what the record meant to him, Potter once again redirected attention toward his teammates.

“Ten catches don’t happen because of one player,” he said. “There were matches where I could spend an hour looking for the Snitch because Oliver and the defense had made sure we weren’t going anywhere. There were matches where Pucey, Chandler, Charlotte and the rest of them had already built us a massive lead before I ever saw it. That changes how you can fly. It changes how patient you can be.”

Potter smiled.

“I get my name next to the catch because I’m the one holding it at the end. That doesn’t mean I got there alone.”

The sentiment has become familiar around Puddlemere.

Perhaps that is part of why the club has been so difficult to beat.

For all the attention paid to Wood and Potter, United’s season has never belonged exclusively to either man.

Adrian Pucey was named to the All-League First Team at Chaser after another prolific offensive season and remains one of the leading scorers in British Quidditch. Wood unsurprisingly earned the First Team Keeper position, while Potter was selected as the First Team Seeker.

Three Puddlemere players.

Three of the League’s seven First Team places.

And the two largest individual awards.

“It tells you what kind of team they’ve been,” one League executive said Thursday. “You don’t finish 11–1 because one player had a great year. Puddlemere has stars everywhere.”

Even outside the Big Three, Puddlemere had Conner Statland named to the All-League Second Team as a Beater, while Coach Deverell placed second in Coach of the Year conversations.

Despite all this star power, however, there is still unfinished business.

Neither Wood’s MVP award nor Potter’s record-breaking rookie campaign changes what waits at the end of the week.

Montrose.

The Magpies remain the only club to defeat Puddlemere this season, and their seven-hour victory over United earlier in the year continues to loom over a Championship matchup that has become one of the most anticipated in recent League history.

Montrose captaincy representatives offered congratulations to both Puddlemere players Thursday while making it clear the awards have changed little inside their own dressing room.

“They earned them,” MaCloud said when asked about Wood and Potter. “Wood has been exceptional, and Potter’s season speaks for itself. Ten catches as a rookie is ridiculous.”

Then the Montrose Seeker smiled.

“But awards don’t catch the Snitch for him.”

Potter grinned when informed of the remark.

“He’s right.”

When asked whether the Rookie of the Year award added pressure before facing the only Seeker who defeated him this season, Potter shook his head.

“I was going to want that Snitch whether they gave me an award or not.”

The exchange reflects a rivalry that has remained notably respectful despite months of anticipation surrounding the rematch.

There has been little trash talk. Neither side appears interested in manufacturing hatred where none exists. They simply believe they are the two best teams in the League. Now they get to prove which one is better.

“We've already played them once,” Wood said. “We know how good they are. They know how good we are. I don’t think either dressing room needs much of a speech.”

Montrose appears to share the sentiment.

“Puddlemere has earned everything people are saying about them,” MaCloud said. “Nine wins in a row is not luck. Eleven wins in twelve matches is not luck. If we want the trophy, we’re going to have to beat the best version of them.”

He paused.

“And I expect they feel exactly the same about us.”

They do.

Thursday’s awards also provided one final opportunity to look backward before the entire League turns its attention toward the Championship.

Wood began the season as an unproven captain trying to lead one of Britain’s oldest clubs.

He ends it as League MVP.

Potter began the season as perhaps the most scrutinized rookie professional Quidditch had ever seen, with critics openly questioning whether fame, reputation, and school-level brilliance would translate against professional competition.

He ends it as Rookie of the Year, First Team Seeker, and owner of the League’s rookie Snitch-catch record.

Pucey remains one of the sport’s premier Chasers.

Cho Chang went from undrafted reserve to one of the League’s most discussed young Seekers after preserving Puddlemere’s victory against Ballycastle.

Garrett Chandler may be approaching the final match of a career spanning more than a decade.

And Oliver Wood has taken all of them to within one victory of a Championship.

There is, however, one award no member of Puddlemere received Thursday morning.

The only one they have spent the entire season chasing.

Champion.

That one will not be decided by votes. It will not be decided by statistics, newspaper columns, records, or awards. It will be decided on the pitch.

Puddlemere United.

Montrose Magpies.

Wood, the League MVP.

Potter, the Rookie of the Year.

MaCloud, the only Seeker who has beaten him.

One match remains.

The restaurant sat just a few blocks from Puddlemere’s stadium, tucked along the edge of the district beneath an old wooden sign Harry had walked past dozens of times without ever paying much attention to it.

Tonight, there was no missing it. Blue-and-gold ribbons had been wrapped around the posts outside. Light spilled warmly through every window. A handwritten sign hanging inside the front door read:

CLOSED FOR PRIVATE FUNCTION — PUDDLEMERE UNITED

Harry smiled when he saw it. “Subtle,” he said.

Beside him, Pucey snorted. “They wanted fireworks over the roof.”

Harry looked over. “Seriously?”

“No.” Pucey pushed open the door. “But the fact you believed me says everything about this club.”

Noise hit Harry immediately when he entered. Laughter. Glasses clinking. Chairs scraping against wood floors. Somebody shouting from somewhere near the bar. The club had rented the entire restaurant for the evening.

Coaches and staff filled most of the large dining room, scattered among several long tables that had been pushed together rather than divided into smaller groups. Players sat among them. Trainers. Equipment staff. Office staff Harry recognized from the stadium but had rarely spoken to for more than a few minutes at a time.

Even several members of Puddlemere management were there. No press. No photographers. No fans asking for autographs.

Just Puddlemere.

Harry had barely stepped through the doorway before someone shoved a drink into his hand. He looked down at it. Firewhisky.

Harry glanced toward Jason. “Really?”

“You're Rookie of the Year,” the man said pointedly.

“So?”

“So tonight you drink expensive whisky instead of the terrible shit Conner keeps buying.”

From farther down the table, Conner looked offended. “My Firewhisky is excellent.”

“Your whisky could remove paint,” Jason countered.

“It has character.”

“It has warning labels.”

Harry laughed and took a sip. It was considerably better than Conner's. He settled into the seat left for him between Pucey and Charlotte, immediately becoming part of three different conversations at once. Someone wanted to know whether the League had actually given Harry a physical Rookie of the Year trophy yet. Someone else was arguing that Wood's MVP award should be displayed permanently above his locker so they could watch him become increasingly irritated by it.

Charlotte was explaining to one of the trainers that she had every intention of stealing both awards and replacing them with poorly made replicas before Sunday.

Harry pointed at her with his glass. “You're not touching mine.”

“Then stop telling people where you live.”

“I haven't told you where I live.”

Charlotte smiled. “That is adorable.”

Across the room, Wood caught Harry's eye. Harry mouthed, Help. Wood raised his glass. Then deliberately looked away. Traitor.

Dinner came in waves. Plates appeared faster than Harry could finish what was already in front of him, and somewhere during the second course, Harry realized he had stopped trying to follow who had ordered what. Nobody seemed particularly interested in behaving like professional athletes tonight.

Pucey stole food from Chandler's plate. Charlotte threw a bread roll at Conner. Robertson spent nearly ten minutes arguing with one of the Beaters about whether Harry's catch against Appleby had technically been more difficult than his catch against Falmouth.

Harry refused to participate. Mostly because he agreed with Robertson. By dessert, the restaurant had grown louder. Someone had started retelling the Ballycastle match.

That immediately became several people correcting one another.

“I did not scream,” Charlotte protested.

“You absolutely screamed,” Conner pointed out.

“I was giving instructions,” Charlotte added.

“You screamed, ‘Someone catch the fucking thing!’” Cho accused.

“That was an instruction.”

Cho had both hands over her face by then.

Harry laughed so hard whisky nearly came out his nose. “You're all arseholes.”

Cho looked at him. “You were unconscious.”

“Which is why this is hilarious.”

“You woke up in hospital!”

“And we won.”

Cho stared at him for several seconds.

Then lifted her glass. “Fair.”

Harry tapped his against hers. Around them, the room kept moving. For once, nobody seemed interested in leaving. Eventually, Daniel Deverell, the team owner, stood near the head of the table and tapped a spoon against his glass.

The room gradually settled. “Before this deteriorates any further—”

“Too late,” Pucey called.

Laughter rolled through the restaurant.

Daniel waited. “As I was saying. Before Adrian deteriorates any further…”

More laughter.

Pucey raised both hands. “I accept responsibility.”

Harry leaned back in his chair, smiling.

Mr. Deverell looked slowly around the room. “I won't keep you long. I know none of you came here tonight because you wanted another speech.”

“Correct,” Chandler said.

“Thank you, Garrett,” the man deadpanned.

“Always happy to help.”

Another ripple of laughter.

Mr. Deverell smiled before his expression softened. “Twelve matches ago, I don't believe anybody in this organization knew exactly what this season would become.”

Harry's smile faded slightly.

“New captain. New players. New coaching responsibilities. A rookie Seeker who brought slightly more attention than most rookies generally do,” Daniel added, gesturing towards Harry.

Several heads turned toward Harry. Harry raised his middle finger at Pucey, who looked on the verge of making a comment that was sure to irritate him and make the rest of the room laugh. The room broke apart at the display.

“Very professional, Potter,” Coach Deverell said.

“You hired me,” Harry said with a shrug.

“Blame Robertson; he knew from the combine what type of player you were going to be. It was against my better judgment.”

Harry grinned.

Daniel Deverell continued, “We knew we had talent. We knew we believed in the people in this room. But there is a difference between believing a team can become something and actually watching it happen.”

The restaurant had become completely quiet now. “Eleven wins. Only one loss.”

Wood's eyes shifted briefly toward Harry. Harry knew exactly what both of them were thinking.

Montrose.

“Nine consecutive victories. The League MVP. Rookie of the Year. Three First Team selections. A Second Team Beater. A rookie Snitch record.”

Daniel Deverell paused. “And now only one match remains. Whatever happens Sunday, this organization is proud of you.”

Wood shifted beside the far end of the table. Harry saw it instantly. Oliver hated that sentence.

Daniel must’ve seen it too. He laughed. “Yes, Wood. I know. You'd prefer I say we'll only be proud if you win.”

“Would've saved time.”

The room erupted.

Mr. Deverell shook his head. “Which is why you're the captain and I'm not.”

Wood lifted his drink. “Good decision.”

“But Oliver…” The humor disappeared from the man’s voice. “You took responsibility for this team before anyone knew what it was going to become. You demanded something from them every day, and they followed you.”

Wood looked genuinely uncomfortable now. Harry enjoyed that considerably more than he probably should have.

“And Harry.”

Harry's amusement disappeared. Bloody hell.

“You came into this building with half the country waiting for you to fail.”

A few people shifted. Harry didn't.

“You never asked anyone here to treat you differently. You worked. You listened. You learned. And somewhere along the way, you became exactly what we hoped you could become. A star.”

Harry swallowed. Around him were people who had watched nearly every mistake. Every terrible practice. Every stupid decision. Every brilliant catch. Every time he'd stayed late. Every time he'd arrived early.

Daniel Deverell raised his glass. “To Oliver Wood.”

Everyone raised theirs.

“To Harry Potter.”

A few smiles appeared around the room.

“And to Puddlemere United.”

This time the response was met with shouts. “To Puddlemere!”

Glasses crashed together.

Harry drank. The whisky burned warmly down his throat. Nothing about it frightened him. Nothing about the glass in his hand made him feel out of control. He was surrounded by his teammates, laughing, celebrating, having a drink after the best regular season most of them had ever played.

Harry set the glass down and applauded with everyone else as Wood was pushed to his feet. Oliver looked murderous. Which only encouraged them.

“Speech!” Conner and Jason called.

“Fuck off,” Wood said immediately.

“Great speech!”

Wood sat back down. The Beaters immediately started chanting.

“Speech. Speech. Speech.”

It spread.

Charlotte joined.

Cho.

Even Pucey.

Wood looked around the room like he was carefully memorizing everyone he intended to punish during training. Eventually he stood. The chanting stopped. Wood rested both hands against the table.

“I had a speech prepared.”

Nobody believed him.

Wood nodded. “Right. Fine. I am going to improvise.”

A few chuckles. He looked around the restaurant. “I don't care about MVP.”

Harry smiled. There it was.

“I appreciate it. I'm grateful for it. I'll probably give it to my mum because she'll care considerably more than I do.”

“That poor woman,” Pucey muttered.

Wood ignored him. “But there are seven people on the pitch at a time. More than seven who got us through this season. Coaches. Reserves. Trainers. Everyone.”

His eyes stopped briefly on Cho. “You don't go eleven and one because one Keeper played well.”

Then Harry. “You don't do it because one Seeker caught ten Snitches.”

Then Pucey. “Or because one Chaser has apparently decided passing is optional.”

Pucey placed a hand dramatically over his heart. “I pass.”

“When threatened.”

“That still counts.”

Wood shook his head. “This worked because every person in this room decided at some point that they were willing to do their job for the person sitting next to them.”

Silence again. Harry stared down at the table.

“And that's why we're playing Sunday.” Wood picked up his glass. “I'm proud of what we did. But I'm not satisfied.”

That earned a few nods. “One more win.”

Wood raised his drink. “One more fucking match.”

Everyone stood. Glasses lifted. “One more!”

Harry shouted it with them. “One more!”

The noise rolled through the restaurant. Then Chandler stood. He didn't shout. Didn't bang his glass against anything. He simply rose from his seat with his drink in one hand. People noticed gradually. The room quieted on its own. Garrett was a man of few words, and it became clear that people were interested in what he had to say.

Chandler looked toward Wood. “You mind?”

Wood shook his head. “Course not.”

Chandler took a breath. Harry watched him. For weeks, Chandler had laughed away every retirement question. Dodged them. Redirected them. Said he wouldn't know until the season ended. Tonight, for the first time, he looked like a man who understood exactly how close the end of the season actually was.

“I've played this game for a long time. My whole career here in Puddlemere.”

Nobody interrupted.

“I've been a part of good teams in my time here, and I've been on some terrible teams.”

“Name names,” Charlotte said.

Chandler laughed. “No.”

“Coward,” Charlotte chided.

“I've played with people I liked. People I couldn't fucking stand.”

His eyes moved toward Pucey. Pucey frowned. “Why did you look at me?”

The room cracked again. Chandler waited until it settled. “I've won matches I'll remember forever. Lost some I'd pay quite a lot of money to forget.”

His smile softened. “And I've spent most of my adult life in changing rooms.”

Harry felt something tighten slightly in his chest. Chandler looked down the table.

At Wood.

At Pucey.

At Charlotte.

At Cho.

Eventually at Harry.

“I don't know what I'm doing next year.”

Nobody moved.

“I meant what I told the Prophet. I'm not deciding until this is over.”

Harry watched Pucey's expression change. The jokes were gone now.

“But I do know this.” Chandler lifted his glass slightly. “This has been the best time I've had playing professional Quidditch.”

Harry blinked. Chandler continued. “Not because we've won eleven matches.” A pause. “Though that certainly fucking helps.”

Laughter broke the tension. “But because somewhere along the way, I stopped coming to work with teammates.”

He looked around the room. “And started coming to work with my friends.”

Harry stared at him. Nobody laughed now. “I've played long enough to know how rare that is.”

Chandler's voice remained steady. “How rare this is.”

Harry looked around. Pucey staring into his drink. Charlotte with her arms folded against the table.

Cho smiling faintly.

Jason.

Conner.

Robertson.

Deverell.

Wood.

People who had become the center of nearly every day of his life.

Chandler raised his glass. “So whatever happens after Sunday…thank you.”

Wood immediately shook his head. “No.”

Chandler looked at him. “No?”

Wood stood. “You can give the retirement speech after you retire.”

Several people laughed. Wood stepped around the table. “And you said whatever happens Sunday.”

He stopped beside Chandler. “Wrong answer.”

Chandler smiled.

Wood raised his glass toward him. “We win Sunday.” A beat. “Then you can get emotional, and we may all join you.”

Chandler laughed. “Fair enough.”

Wood pulled him into a hug. The room exploded. Harry stood with everyone else. Pucey got there next. Then Charlotte. Within seconds whatever dignity Chandler's speech had possessed disappeared beneath half the roster crushing him from every direction.

“Get off me!” Garrett begged.

Harry laughed and joined anyway. Someone grabbed the back of his shirt. Someone else's elbow caught him in the ribs. Pucey was shouting something incomprehensible. Wood was threatening murder. Cho was laughing. For a few seconds Harry couldn't tell where one person ended and another began. Eventually they broke apart.

Chandler straightened his shirt. “I hate every one of you. I take back all the nice things.”

“Friends,” Harry reminded him.

“Changed my mind,” Garrett countered.

The laughter returned. Dinner stretched another hour. Maybe two. Harry didn't check. Eventually coaches began leaving. Then management.

Players drifted toward the door in twos and threes. Nobody seemed drunk. Nobody seemed interested in making the night into anything more than what it had already been. A celebration. Harry finished his second whisky and left the empty glass on the table.

Outside, the village was quiet. Cold air met him immediately. He shoved his hands into his pockets as Wood stepped out behind him. For a moment neither spoke. Through the windows, Harry could still see Chandler arguing with Pucey.

Wood stood beside him. “Good year.”

Harry looked at him. “It's not over.”

Wood smiled. “Good answer.”

Harry glanced toward the distant outline of the stadium. Even from here, he could make out the upper hoops rising against the night.

Sunday.

Montrose.

MaCloud.

The Championship.

Everything seemed to have been moving toward it for months. Maybe from the first time Harry had walked into Puddlemere's training grounds carrying more nerves than he would ever admit. Maybe since the first time Wood had thrown him a jersey. Maybe since Montrose.

Harry felt the familiar spark ignite somewhere beneath his ribs.

Wood followed his gaze. “You ready?”

Harry thought about the question. The rookie who had arrived at Puddlemere months earlier probably would have said yes immediately. That Harry had spent most of his life believing being ready meant refusing to admit he was afraid. This Harry knew better.

He knew exactly how good Montrose was. Exactly how dangerous MaCloud was. Exactly how much Sunday mattered. And exactly what waited beside him.

Harry smiled. “Yeah.”

Wood nodded. “Me too.”

Behind them, the restaurant door opened and Pucey's voice spilled into the street. “POTTER! WOOD! ARE YOU TWO HAVING A FUCKING MOMENT?”

Harry closed his eyes.

Wood sighed. “I might kill him before Sunday.”

“Can't. First Team Chaser,” Harry reminded him.

“After Sunday, then,” Oliver accepted with a sigh.

Harry laughed. They turned back toward their teammates. Sunday would come soon enough. The awards were finished. The regular season was finished. The waiting was finished. There was only one thing left to do.

Win the Championship.