Chapter 8 - Getaway

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By the beginning of August - just over four weeks until the Montrose Magpies would kick off the new season - Lizzie had made good progress in her recovery training. Their season preparation was slowly nearing its most crucial phase, so when their last practice session for the week was over, Ethan called his team together in the changing room.

"The new season's almost here, lads, and for once, I'm not entirely pessimistic about it. We're on a good path, but we must take things up a notch. I want these plucked birds calling themselves Quidditch champions to tremble when they think of the Wigtown Wanderers. Bloody Magpies," he added bitterly, a murmur of consent echoing through the changing room.

When Ethan raised his hands, the muttering ceased. "To show Montrose and the other amateurs what we're made of, the practice schedule will undergo some changes. We're doubling up on sessions and you will practise individually before we bring all of it together in time for the first match. You know what that means."

"Boot camp," Skye groaned under her breath.

"Boot camp," Ethan confirmed a moment later.

Lizzie could barely stop herself from making a face. They had done a boot camp the year before and while it had been effective, it had been one of the most exhausting weeks of her life.

"Things will be a little different this time," Ethan went on to explain. "There've been too many sideshows distracting you from what matters lately, so we ain't gonna stay in Wigtown. I need your focus sharp if we want to shoot for the Cup next season."

"Sounds smashing, Dad," Skye said. "Care to share where you're gonna take us?"

Ethan pursed his lips. "Kinda what I wanted to talk to you about. We were hoping on Dartmoor, but these Ministry sods were too stuck up to give us permission."

"Aren't they preparing for the World Cup in Dartmoor?" Lizzie frowned.

Ethan rolled his eyes. "Ain't you being sharp today? Would've given them a chance to have their stadium put through its paces, but seems like that's too much to ask for a humble Scottish club like ours."

Lizzie raised her eyebrows but chose not to comment on it any further. As enticing as the idea of flying over the World Cup pitch sounded, there was no way the Ministry would have even considered agreeing to Ethan's request.

"Where are we going then?"

"A good player needs to adapt to changing winds," Ethan shrugged. "Since this is about growing closer as a team, I thought why not come up with a plan together."

Lizzie listened to the ensuing discussion without adding to it. She was busy thinking about Matthew; he wouldn't have been keen on her training schedule being increased either way, but her leaving Wigtown for several days could turn into a problem.

"The Isle of Skye isn't a bad shout," suggested Scout Sheridan, the team's usual Seeker, but Ethan promptly shook his head.

"Chances are we're going to run into some Portree players, and they can go suck on a Bludger, as far as I'm concerned."

"What about that one place you used to tell me about?" Skye piped up and nudged Lizzie in the side. "Where was it again?"

"No idea what you mean," Lizzie replied coolly, but Skye didn't notice the warning in her voice.

"'Course you do. Always used to say how great it'd be for Quidditch - remote, loads of open space, unaccessible to Muggles, everything we're looking for. Couldn't stop raving about it every time you went there with -"

Skye stopped abruptly as she realised the reason for Lizzie's silence, but her words had already caught Ethan's attention.

"I like the sound of that. Where is it?"

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