A/N: I'm a little late but Merry Christmas, everyone! I hope you're all spending the holidays well :> Here's another long-ish chapter full of (more) Quidditch content and fluff hihi!!

The students at Hogwarts were able to get a few days off thanks to the Easter holidays. When that passed, they were met with yet again more requirements to fulfill, but it was slightly more bearable after having gotten used to it over the past few months.

However, what was even more important to Jessica and her teammates was the fast approaching match against Slytherin, which would take place on the first Saturday after Easter. This was going to be be their final game of the year, which would determine whether or not they would snag that Quidditch Cup. After their previous match against Ravenclaw, they did not waste any time in training for possibly their biggest match of their lives to date. It was tiring and stressful, but Jessica was fueled by a newfound determination, knowing that she could almost taste victory at that point. Furthermore, it was her first time playing a full year of Quidditch since she was petrified for a good chunk of last year's season.

Unsurprisingly, Oliver was even more desperate. It was his last year at Hogwarts and he had never been this close to actually claiming the Cup. Slytherin was leading the tournament by two hundred points, which meant that Gryffindor couldn't just grab the Snitch at any time and get it over with — they had to be smart about when to catch it. So, he spent the days leading up to the big day following Harry around, reminding the third year boy that he should only catch it once the Chasers scored more than fifty points or else they'd lose the Cup. As much as Harry respected Oliver, he was getting fed up with his captain trailing after him in between classes just to tell him that same thing every time.

The whole of Gryffindor House was obsessed with the upcoming match — even Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw were highly interested in it because Gryffindor hadn't won the Quidditch Cup in so long. On the night before the long-anticipated event, everyone in the Gryffindor absolutely could not stay still. Even Jessica abandoned her school work, and she noticed that Hermione could not focus on hers, either.

"My brain is not processing any of this," Jessica huffed, dropping her quill onto her parchment full of scratched out words and numbers in an attempt to finish her Arithmancy homework. "I can't concentrate at all."

Oliver barely even heard her. He was sitting beside her in the corner of the common room, crouching over a miniature model of a Quidditch field as he visualized what would happen the following day. He prodded the little figures across the model with his wand and muttered to himself.

Everyone else was dealing with their nerves differently. Fred and George Weasley dealt with it by being louder and more exuberant than ever, if that was even possible. Angelina and Katie tried to keep themselves distracted by listening to and laughing at Fred's and George's jokes. Harry was sitting with Ron and Hermione in silence, just trying not to think about the next day because every time he did, he would feel nauseous. Jessica had obviously tried to keep herself occupied with homework, but she ended up failing at that.

"Everybody looks uneasy," she mumbled, looking around the room.

"Well, a lot is on the line," Oliver said, his brows furrowed. He pushed the tiny figures of his Chasers into one formation, sighed, then restarted with a different formation.

"I give up on this," Jessica decided, gathering her school things. "I'm gonna turn in early tonight. You should, too."

"You're right," Oliver sighed, waving his wand. His miniature Quidditch model packed up in seconds, folding into a small box. He then stood up and eyed his teammates before shouting, "Team! Bed!"

"Whoa, there, Ollie," said Fred.

"A bit bold tonight, are we?" George joked. Oliver made a motion as if to hit them — Jessica wasn't sure if he was serious or playing around. Either way, the twins evaded his attack, sniggering like obnoxious kids as they ran away from him and up to their own dorm room.

★ ★ ★

The next day, the Gryffindor Quidditch team entered the Great Hall to a tumultuous applause. Of course, the Slytherin team didn't forget to boo when they passed by, but it didn't matter to Jessica and the others knowing that even Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw were supporting them.

Oliver spent the whole of breakfast urging his team to eat, but he himself didn't touch any food.

"We all need our energy today," he kept repeating while the team tried to scarf down eggs and sausages without their nerves getting the best of them. "Finish your meals. I'm going to head to the pitch early to check the weather conditions."

"You haven't eaten anything, though," Jessica said before he could stand up.

"I'm not hungry."

"You have to eat something, too."

"I'm fine —" Oliver started, only for Jessica to shove a buttered toast into his mouth. His eyes widened in surprise and he could see his teammates watching them eagerly, but he ignored them and finally bit down on the piece of bread.

"Aw, she fed our Ollie," Fred cooed as Jessica went back to eating her own breakfast, trying her best to avoid everyone's watching eyes.

"Remember when she got mad at Oliver for stealing her toast before?" George snickered. "But look how the tables have turned now."

"Well, they are dating now, after all," Angelina pointed out while Katie nodded in agreement. Jessica and Oliver blushed, not expecting her to casually bring that up. In fact, they hadn't even explicitly told the team that they were together because there was no point in announcing it. It seemed that the girls were more observant than they thought, though.

However, the twins clearly weren't aware of this piece of information. Fred dropped his fork while George spluttered on his pumpkin juice at what Angelina said.

"Wait, dating? For real?" Fred said incredulously.

"Wasn't it obvious?" Katie said in confusion. "We thought the whole team knew by now."

"I thought they were just flirting this whole time," George admitted, still looking shocked.

"Holy hipogriff, you two! I didn't think you guys were that oblivious. Even Harry knew, right?" said Angelina, nudging the bespectacled boy. Harry, who was barely paying attention, blinked in confusion and stared at his team.

"O-Oh, yeah, I did," Harry said, only partially telling the truth. He did see Oliver and Jessica holding hands on many occasions, but he honestly never gave it much thought.

Meanwhile, Oliver had finished quickly eating his food and badly wanted to make a run for it. He needed to check what the conditions were for that day's game. He sent a side glance at Jessica, almost as if to mentally ask when this torture would end. The girl could only shrug back helplessly in response while Fred and George continued to ramble on.

"Bloody hell, Georgie! Even Harry realized it before us."

"Now I feel stupid! When did this even start?"

"Before the holidays," Oliver answered simply to get it over with. "Now, I really need to go to the —"

"But how?"

"Why?"

"Lads!" Oliver raised his voice, finally getting up to his feet. "We have a game to win in a few minutes. Focus on that instead of interrogating us."

"But —"

"No buts!" Oliver stalked away. Once he was out of earshot, Fred and George turned back to Jessica.

"You'll tell us all the juicy details, won't you?" Fred wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

"Yeah, Jessica! We're late to this, so tell us everything," George urged.

"If we beat Slytherin, I'll tell you what you want to know," Jessica said with a playful roll of her eyes. Fred and George exchanged determined looks.

"We'll take your word for it."

It was only a couple of minutes later that the rest of the Gryffindor Quidditch Team decided to head to the field as well. On their way out, a handful of students from all houses — except for Slytherin — applauded them once again. Cho Chang even personally cheered for Harry, and he couldn't help but feel his face grow warm at that.

By the time they reached the locker rooms, they had fallen silent. None of them spoke as they changed into their robes and gear. Despite all the support they received that morning, they were starting to feel the pressure sink in again. Before they knew it, it was time to make their way out into the field.

"And here are the Gryffindors!" yelled Lee Jordan, who was acting as commentator as usual. "Potter, Bell, Johnson, Hawthorne, Weasley, Weasley, and Wood. Widely acknowledged as the best team Hogwarts has seen in a good few years —"

Lee's comments were drowned by booing from the Slytherin's side.

"And here come the Slytherin team, led by Captain Flint. He's made some changes in the lineup and seems to be going for size rather than skill —"

More boos ensued from the Slytherins, but Lee actually had a point — Draco Malfoy, who was already on the taller side, was still the smallest person on his team; the rest of them were enormous.

"Captains, shake hands!" Madam Hooch said. Oliver and Marcus Flint approached each other and grasped each other's hands so tightly that it looked as though they wanted to break the other's fingers. "Mount your brooms! Three... two... one..."

Her whistle sounded, and fourteen brooms rose into the air. Madam Hooch released the Quaffle, Bludgers, and Snitch — from there, it was a blur.

"And it's Gryffindor in possession, Katie Bell of Gryffindor with the Quaffle, heading straight for the Slytherin goal posts, looking good, Katie! Argh, no — Quaffle intercepted by Warrington, Warrington of Slytherin tearing up the field — WHAM! — nice Bludger work there by George Weasley, Warrington drops the Quaffle, it's caught by — Johnson, Gryffindor back in possession, come on, Angelina — nice swerve around Montague — duck, Angelina, that's a Bludger! SHE SCORES! TEN-ZERO TO GRYFFINDOR!"

Angelina punched the air triumphantly, but it was short-lived when Flint went flying into her, throwing her off course.

"OUCH!" she yelped.

"Sorry!" said Flint, but nobody bought his excuse. "Sorry, didn't see her!"

Only seconds later, Fred zoomed towards Flint and chucked his Beater's club at the back of his head. Flint's nose smashed into the handle of his broom and began to bleed.

"That will do!" Madam Hooch shrieked, zooming upwards to hover between the boys. "Penalty shot to Gryffindor for an unprovoked attack on their Chaser! Penalty shot to Slytherin for deliberate damage to their Chaser!"

"Come off it!" Fred complained, but Madam Hooch blew her whistle and sent him a warning look. Katie flew forward to take the penalty.

"Come on, Katie!" Lee shouted. Fortunately, she managed to score against Bletchley. "YES! SHE'S BEATEN THE KEEPER! TWENTY-ZERO TO GRYFFINDOR!"

Jessica turned her Nimbus 2000 around sharply to watch Flint on the other end of the field. She cringed at the sight of him still bleeding, but she didn't feel any sympathy for him — he deserved it. He glared at Oliver, who was hovering in front of the Gryffindor goalposts, when it was his turn to take the Slytherin penalty.

"'Course, Wood's a superb Keeper!" Lee praised as Flint waited for Madam Hooch's whistle. "Superb! Very difficult to pass — very difficult indeed — YES! I DON'T BELIEVE IT! HE'S SAVED IT!"

Oliver smirked, reveling in the irritated look on Flint's face. Then, everyone dove back into the game. Harry was starting to feel even more pressured, noticing that there was more tension than usual. He had to hold Malfoy off as best as he could to help his teammates get up to more than fifty points. Then he could really search for the Snitch and finish this once and for all.

"Gryffindor in possession, no, Slytherin in possession — no! Gryffindor back in possession and it's Jessica Hawthorne for Gryffindor with the Quaffle, she's streaking up the field — THAT WAS DELIBERATE!"

Montague, one of Slytherin's Chasers, had swerved in front of Jessica. But instead of seizing the Quaffle, he quite literally grabbed her head then harshly pushed her away. Jessica tumbled in the air and managed to stay on her broom, but she dropped the Quaffle in the process. She took a moment to recollect herself, her heart racing at that close call.

"FOUL!" Oliver shouted angrily, his voice barely heard amidst the booing from the stands. He resisted the strong urge to leave his post and attack Montague for that.

Madam Hooch's whistle rang out again. She made her way towards Montague and scolded him. He defended himself by saying he mistook Jessica for the Quaffle, which sounded outrageous to Madam Hooch, so a penalty was given. Jessica retrieved the Quaffle to take the penalty. She hurled the ball towards the rightmost hoop and got it past Slytherin, earning them another ten points.

"THIRTY-ZERO! TAKE THAT, YOU DIRTY, CHEATING —"

"Jordan, if you can't commentate in an unbiased way —" McGonagall began.

"I'm telling it like it is, Professor!"

Just then, Harry spotted the Golden Snitch shimmering near the ground. He felt a jolt of excitement, but he knew he couldn't catch it just yet. He feigned a look of concentration, pulled his Firebolt around, and sped off towards the other side of the field. It worked — Malfoy chased after him, clearly thinking Harry had seen the Snitch there, and then —

WHOOSH.

A Bludger hit by Derrick came streaking past Harry's right ear, but it didn't touch him. Another Bludger came by and grazed Harry's elbow, which came from Bole. The Slytherin Beaters were closing in on him, evidently planning on attacking him. He tilted his broom upwards at the last second, causing Bole and Derrick to collide with a sickening crunch.

"HAHA!" Lee yelled. "Too bad, boys! You'll need to get up earlier than that to beat a Firebolt! And it's Gryffindor in possession again, as Johnson takes the Quaffle — Flint alongside her — poke him in the eye, Angelina! — it was a joke, Professor, it was a joke — oh no — Flint in possession, Flint flying toward the Gryffindor goal posts, come on now, Wood, save —!"

But Flint scored. An eruption of cheers came from the Slytherin end, and Oliver cursed in disappointment. Even Lee swore so badly that Professor McGonagall tried to tug the magical megaphone away from him.

"Sorry, Professor, sorry! Won't happen again!" Lee apologized frantically. "So, Gryffindor in the lead, thirty points to ten, and Gryffindor in possession..."

This was quickly becoming the dirtiest Quidditch match Jessica had ever played in. Most of the Slytherins had always been quite cunning with their plays, but they had never been this violent. Just as she was on her way to back Angelina up, Bole hit Jessica on her back with his club.

"Ow!" she said before glaring daggers at him.

"Oops, thought she was a Bludger!" Bole said, feigning innocence. Before she could tell him off, George came flying in and elbowed Bole in the face. Madam Hooch gave both teams penalties yet again, making the score forty-ten to Gryffindor.

While Harry focused on distracting Malfoy, Katie shot another goal; fifty-ten. Fred and George Weasley were swooping around her, clubs raised, in case any of the Slytherins were thinking of revenge as they seemed to do whenever a Gryffindor Chaser scored. However, Bole and Derrick took advantage of Fred's and George's absence to aim both Bludgers at Oliver. They caught him in the stomach, one after the other. Oliver rolled over in the air, clutching his broom, completely winded and coughing for air.

"YOU DO NOT ATTACK THE KEEPER UNLESS THE QUAFFLE IS WITHIN THE SCORING AREA!" Madam Hooch shrieked at the Slytherin Beaters. "Gryffindor penalty!"

But she wasn't the only one furious at them. Jessica was completely beside herself at what they did to Oliver. She purposely shoved both Bole and Derrick on her way to take the penalty. She heard them scoff behind her back, but they couldn't fight back or else Madam Hooch would call them out again.

Jessica scored; sixty-ten. Seconds later, Fred pelted a Bludger at Warrington, knocking the Quaffle out of his hands. Angelina seized it and put it through the Slytherin goal — they now had seventy points.

Harry was at the edge of his broom; if he caught the Snitch now, the Cup was theirs. He didn't know how, but he could practically feel hundreds of eyes following him as he soared around the field, high above the rest of the game, with Malfoy speeding along behind him.

Finally, he saw the Golden Snitch again. It was sparkling about twenty feet above him. Harry put on a huge burst of speed... the wind was roaring in his ears... he stretched out his hand, but his broom was tugged back abruptly. He looked over his shoulder to find that Malfoy had grabbed the tail of his Firebolt with his hand.

"You!" Harry said angrily. He wanted to physically hit Malfoy, but he couldn't reach him at that angle.

"Penalty! Penalty to Gryffindor! I've never seen such tactics!" Madam Hooch screeched, shooting up to where Malfoy was leaning back onto his Nimbus Two Thousand and One. But the damage was done; Malfoy had done what he needed to, which was to allow the Snitch to disappear from sight again.

"YOU CHEATING SCUM!" Lee howled into the megaphone. "YOU FILTHY, CHEATING B —"

Professor McGonagall didn't even bother to tell him off. She was enraged as well, pointing at Malfoy and shouting at him.

Jessica took Gryffindor's penalty, but she was so angry she missed by several feet. That made her even more frustrated, slamming her fist into her broomstick at that. She was losing her composure, which was new to her — she thought she had always been the mediating, level-headed type of person, but this game was bringing out a new side to her.

"Slytherin in possession, Slytherin heading for goal — Montague scores —" Lee groaned at that. "Seventy-twenty to Gryffindor..."

Harry was now playing almost as roughly as Malfoy. He was flying so closely to him that they kept bumping into each other.

"Get out of it, Potter!" Malfoy said in annoyance when he found Harry constantly blocking him.

"Angelina Johnson gets the Quaffle for Gryffindor, come on, Angelina, COME ON!"

Harry looked around upon hearing Lee's panicked voice through the speakers. Every single Slytherin player apart from Malfoy was streaking up the pitch toward Angelina, including the Slytherin Keeper. He realized in horror that they were all going to block her. He could see Jessica and Katie try to help out, but he knew it would end up a mess.

Harry had to take action. He wheeled the Firebolt around, bent so low he was lying flat along the handle, and zoomed forward. At that speed, he shot like a bullet towards the Slytherins. Almost comedically, they screamed at his ambush and scattered to steer away from the Firebolt. Angelina's way was now clear, and she headed straight for the goalposts.

"SHE SCORES! SHE SCORES! Gryffindor leads by eighty points to twenty!" Lee exclaimed.

Harry's heart stopped when he saw Malfoy diving with a look of triumph on his face. A few feet above the grass below, was a tiny, golden glimmer... it was the Snitch. Harry turned the Firebolt downward, but Malfoy was too far ahead. He wasn't sure if he could make it.

"Go! Go! Go!" Harry urged his broom, somehow wishing that it could listen to his pleas. He was starting to gain on Malfoy — he was almost there. Harry flattened himself to the broom handle and the Firebolt sped up even faster; he was now neck and neck with Malfoy. Harry released his hands from his hold on the broom, knocked Malfoy's extended arm out of the way and —

"YES!"

Harry pulled out of his dive, his hand clutching the Snitch in the air. The stadium exploded, the sound ringing in his ears. If the celebration after their match against Ravenclaw a few weeks ago was festive already, this was on a whole other level. The Gryffindor Quidditch Team felt as if they were soaring above the clouds because of how happy they felt.

Oliver crashed into Harry to bring him into a hug. He was half-blinded by tears and practically sobbed into his shoulder. Harry then felt two large bodies suffocate him even further as Fred and George tackled them. Angelina's, Katie's, and Jessica's voices chanted, "We've won the Cup! We've won the Cup!" They eventually all found themselves tangled in a many-armed hug, only separating to jump and dance around with each other again.

"We did it!" Oliver cried. He grabbed Jessica, held her face in his hands, and pulled her in for an unexpected kiss. Too caught up in the moment, she didn't mind kissing him back deeply in the middle of the field with everyone else watching them.

Fred wolf-whistled, George whooped, Angelina and Katie giggled, and Harry gawked at them. Jessica pulled back, slightly embarrassed, but Oliver didn't seem to mind. He was too busy basking in their victory.

Most of the Gryffindors in the audience filed into field to congratulate the team. There were so many of them that it looked like a blur of red and gold. Jessica was sure she spotted Bethany there, and even Alista despite her being a Slytherin. But she didn't even get the chance to acknowledge any of them because she and her teammates were suddenly hoisted onto the shoulders of the crowd.

An incoherent chorus of cheers and cries was all that could be heard. Even Professor McGonagall and Hagrid were in tears, proud of their house. Dumbledore himself was smiling widely as he handed Oliver Wood the giant Quidditch Cup. Words failed him, Jessica, and their friends — all they knew was that this was one of the happiest moments of their lives.

★ ★ ★

Jessica's spirits were still at a high after everyone left the field and the game died down. After all, how could she feel anything but joy at that point? She couldn't believe that it was only a few years ago that she was too afraid to tryout for the Quidditch team for insecure reasons, and now here she was, having just won the championship.

She walked hand in hand with Oliver out of the stadium, the two of them being one of the lasts to leave. It had been almost an hour since the match concluded, but they were still chatting about its every little detail. Although it ended on a good note, they couldn't help but recall all the fouls Slytherin pulled on them.

"Montague's a bloody tosser for grabbing your head like that," Oliver grumbled.

"Yeah, I nearly fell off my broom there," Jessica said, miffed at the mere memory of it. "And he had the nerve to say he thought I was the Quaffle!"

"Bole hit you with his club, too."

"And he thought I was a Bludger," Jessica rolled her eyes. "They couldn't even think of better excuses."

"Are you hurt anywhere, though?"

"Nope — hey, don't forget you got attacked with two Bludgers, for Merlin's sake! Are you okay?" Jessica said, remembering that it looked like a nasty hit. "It looked painful."

"A little sore, but it's not that bad," Oliver shrugged. Jessica didn't believe him, so she poked his ribs. He winced and jumped back. "Ow! What was that for?"

"Sorry," she said sheepishly. "I had to check if you're injured, and you clearly are. But you probably think it's not a big deal because you're used to the feeling."

"Of course, it's normal for me now. That's what happens when you've played Quidditch your entire life."

"Doesn't mean you should get used to sprains and broken bones. Let's go to Madam Pomfrey now."

"But the party —"

"Can wait," Jessica cut him off. "We've got all night. Besides, we've had many of those this year alone!"

Oliver continued to protest as they trudged through the grounds, claiming that he just wanted to go to his dorm as soon as possible to freshen up and get a nice, cold glass of Butterbeer instead of waiting at the hospital wing. His complaints were ignored when Jessica spotted a familiar but unanticipated face waiting by castle doors.

"There's my favorite cousin!"

"Charles? Wha — hi!" Jessica said, jogging over to her cousin. The older boy brought her into a hug, chuckling at her reaction. "What are you doing here?"

"I got a day off, so I decided to come to your match!" he replied. "Too bad it's your last one of the season, but I gotta say, I'm glad I picked this one to watch. Gryffindor was amazing. Congratulations!"

"Thank you," Jessica beamed, stepping away from him. Meanwhile, Oliver — who still felt starstruck whenever he came face to face with a member of his favorite Quidditch team — was standing to the side with wide eyes.

"Hey, it's you again," Charles grinned, holding a hand out for him. "Good job out there, Oliver! You blocked nearly every shot from Slytherin — very impressive. Not to mention that you led your team spectacularly. You lot wouldn't have won the championship without your leadership."

"T-thanks," Oliver managed to get out, shaking Charles's hand meekly.

"Rough game, though. I've never seen Slytherin play like that," Charles said thoughtfully. "But you still won! It feels great to see Gryffindor back on top. We haven't won the Cup since Weasley was Seeker. I can remember playing alongside him — we even used to get confused because our first names are so similar! You know, Charles, Charlie... anyway, that last team with him was legendary. It's a shame he didn't end up playing professionally, though. I would've liked to compete against him... oh, I'm rambling now, aren't I?"

"Just a little," Jessica teased.

"Seriously, though, you guys did great!" Charles kept on complimenting them. "I didn't realize Harry Potter was such a good Seeker, too! What can't that boy do?"

"Not have a near-death experience every year," Jessica said.

"What was that?"

"Nothing."

"Hawthorne," a new voice said. A brunette woman, somewhere in her thirties, approached them. She was looking at Charles pointedly, but Jessica couldn't recognize her. "We should head to Hogsmeade already."

"Oh, right," said Charles. "This is Imogen, by the way. She's Puddlemere United's manager."

Oliver tensed up and tried to stand straighter. Jessica hid an amused smile at his actions.

"And this is my cousin, Jessica, and her friend, Oliver Wood," Charles went on. "They're the Chaser and Keeper of Gryffindor right now."

Imogen smiled politely at them, but she didn't seem to be one to talk much.

"Congratulations on your win," she said shortly. Her eyes lingered curiously on Oliver — who gulped nervously — before turning back to Charles. "As much as I don't want to rush you, we have to go soon. I still have other errands to run for the team."

"Alright, I'll be with you in a minute." Imogen nodded before disappearing into the castle, presumably to make her way to the entrance courtyard already. Jessica was going to bid Charles goodbye, but a thought suddenly struck her.

"Why did you watch the game with your manager of all people?" Jessica asked him. "I thought this was your day off. Shouldn't you be out with friends?"

"No big reason. She just wanted to watch, too," Charles said vaguely. "Come on, you should get going as well — I've kept you here for too long."

He pushed both Jessica and Oliver into the castle, the two of them stumbling slightly at the sudden force.

"Watch it, Oliver's injured," Jessica hit her cousin on the arm.

"I'm fine," Oliver said quickly, not wanting to offend Charles.

"Oops, sorry about that. Anyway, I've got to go. Imogen won't be happy if I keep her waiting."

"If it's your day off, why are you on such a tight schedule?" Jessica asked again.

"Stop worrying about what I do on my day off, dear cousin," Charles dodged the question with a small laugh. "Now, head back to the common room already and enjoy your party!"

Oliver and Charles shook hands once more, and Jessica said her goodbyes to her cousin.

"By the way," Charles said in a low voice as he hugged her. "I saw that little scene between you two after you won."

Jessica flushed in embarrassment while Charles merely winked knowingly.

"You better explain yourself this summer when I see you again!" he called out as he made his way down to the corridor.

"What's he talking about?" Oliver said in confusion.

"You don't wanna know," Jessica shook her head and started walking. They climbed up a few sets of stairs, and Oliver was just about to walk up the one that led to the Gryffindor tower when Jessica tugged him in the other direction.

"Hospital wing first," she said firmly. Oliver sighed and gave up on trying to convince her that he was alright and didn't need any treatment.

"Fine."

A/N: One chapter left! Sorry again for such slow updates. This semester has been sooo draining, and I'm generally a slow writer so 😅 I hope you enjoyed this chapter, though!