A Search for Balance

Chapter 41 - Skye's Surprise

From the Quidditch Pitch into the World Cup Stands
Rita Skeeter recaps the breathtaking season finale of 1993/94 and talks World Cup rumours, favourites and broomstick lengths of the world's finest Quidditch players.

The dust has only just settled on the Montrose Magpies' championship win, but already, the eyes of Quidditch fans all around the world have turned to Dartmoor, where the national teams participating in the 422nd World Cup are gearing up for the preliminary rounds (read about tournament placements ranked by looks in collaboration with Witch Weekly on page 37).

The pitch of the newly built Trillenium Stadium won't be the only place to watch, however. The list of illustrious guests expected to attend is long, including a plethora of Ministry associates, social butterflies, and League players who didn't make their national rosters (stay informed by subscribing to the Daily Prophet's immediate World Cup news service, more information on page 40).

Will former Wanderers star Elizabeth Jameson - last season's biggest guarantor of drama - show her face in Dartmoor, too? Is her sudden absence from the limelight due to her crushing shame at sacrificing her integrity on the altar of success? Or was her failed shot that cost the Wanderers the championship just a pathetic pass rather than cold calculation? Have the Magpies truly gained an asset in her, or will she turn out to be nothing but a bad egg in Montrose's nest?

The summer break was well underway, and the impending start of the Quidditch World Cup all magical Great Britain seemed to talk about. For once, Lizzie didn't have a mind to join in the excitement. While her friends and teammates were gearing up to either play or watch the tournament, she had used her time to pack up her old life in Wigtown and settle into her new one in Montrose.

Most of her new colleagues were away for their annual leave, but those who'd stayed, Lizzie had joined in a couple of casual practice sessions already. The Magpies were a good team, the mood between the players great, but somehow, Lizzie struggled to connect with them.

Having to say goodbye to Skye and the rest of the Wanderers had been tough, worse even than she had imagined. She did well enough during the days, but the nights were a different matter altogether. When she lay in bed, moonlight filtering through her window and Mouse warm against her stomach, the thoughts of Orion refused to be kept at bay any longer.

They hadn't bothered with a big goodbye. Both of them had known what lay ahead when Skye had escorted them from the stands and back to the changing rooms, and putting it into words would have hurt more than necessary. When the party had begun to dwindle out, Orion had simply slipped away, a slight incline of his head and a smile on his lips as he stood in the doorway.

Lizzie was glad they hadn't drawn it out, but the moment he'd turned away, a door inside her had fallen shut, which she had tried to keep closed ever since. In the first few weeks after her departure, they had exchanged a couple of letters but had eventually stopped. There were too many unsaid things between them, too many regrets and could-have-beens.

It was early August, and shaping up to be another beautiful summer day. Lizzie had stayed up late tending to her broomstick and gear, so when a rigorous knocking sounded on her front door shortly after sunrise, she almost fell out of bed in her hurry to answer it. Stifling a yawn, she blinked into the morning sun as she opened the door. All at once, her tiredness was blown away.

"Morning, Jameson."

"Skye?" Lizzie said in astonishment. "What are you doing here?"

Skye's grin was as wide as Lizzie's eyes. "Dragging you from bed, it seems." Her eyebrows rose curiously. "Eager, are we? Wearing your jersey already?"