The first days of boot camp were spent practising, strategising, and then practising some more. The schedule Ethan had designed for them was strenuous but effective; there were shared practice matches in the mornings and individual sessions where they worked on fitness, strategy and agility until well into the evenings.
Once the first emotional shock of her return to Jersey had passed, Lizzie trained with such fervour that she would pass out as soon as her head met the pillow. She was too exhausted to even think about Orion, but it didn't matter either way. As sceptical as she had been about it, Orion's behaviour towards her was friendly but not overly familiar, and gradually, Lizzie found herself relaxing in his presence.
On the first day, she had missed Matthew terribly. Her longing for him had lessened bit by bit, and by nightfall of the second day, Matthew had felt further away than the hundreds of miles between Wigtown and Jersey. It bothered Lizzie that they had parted on a bad note, but with their training requiring all her focus, that sentiment began to fade as well. Zooming along the beach and over the glittering waves was like a much-needed breath of fresh air after staying in a stuffy room for too long, and it slowly dawned on her just how little she had been laughing in the last couple of weeks.
But Lizzie wasn't the only one who felt like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders; there was a growing sense of togetherness among the team like there hadn't been for a long time. Even Skye, who was usually more taciturn, was eager to discuss their day when she and Lizzie were getting ready for bed.
"Dad's training's tough as an old Quidditch boot, but you can't say it ain't working," she said, pulling at the skin of her heavily blistered hands. "The team's progress is mental. We're gonna pluck the Magpies head to tail this year, just you wait."
Lizzie didn't reply; she was busy tapping her finger on the angry sunburn on her forearms, watching the white fingerprint fade immediately after.
"Boot camp really tickles the best out of everyone, don't you think?" Skye went on, not minding Lizzie's silence. "Take Yarwood, for example. Wouldn't have thought she'd be able to make a straight shot in a century, but she got that bloody Quaffle past Porter more times than I can count."
Lizzie glanced up from her burnt arms. "Morgaine's not a bad Chaser, Skye, else she wouldn't have filled in for me. You two just don't get along."
"She's rash and ain't got your instinct," Skye snorted, "but if she keeps it up, she might give you a run for your money. I don't care whether I've got to drag an English or an Irish gal along, the handicap's the same."
Rolling her eyes, Lizzie grabbed her pillow with her left hand and threw it over her shoulder in Skye's direction. When she heard a muffled sound, she knew she had hit her target.
"Ouch," Skye complained, "looks like your Reverse Pass is almost back to normal."
Skye was right, Lizzie realised. The Reverse Pass - where the Quaffle was thrown over the Chaser's shoulder without looking - was a technique Lizzie had been struggling with ever since her injury. She was doing fine with her right hand, but with her left - the one she had broken - she had found it hard to hit her mark without being in pain.
Lost in thought, her fingers closed around her wrist; come to think of it, it hadn't hurt at all since they had left Wigtown.
***
For the last session on their third day, Ethan had decided to split the roster into groups: he paired the Beaters and Seekers to improve their aim and dexterity, while the Chasers and Keepers were in for additional target practice.
It was already late in the afternoon when they took to the air again. The sun was burning down on Lizzie and the others, and despite the wind blowing landwards, their backs and foreheads were soon covered in sweat.
Orion didn't seem to mind the heat. While the rest of them struggled with their tired muscles from three full days of training, Orion's gameplay was as precise and focused as ever. When the Quaffle threatened to pass just above his reach, he jumped onto the handle of his broomstick in one fluid motion, plucked it from the air, and set off towards the goalposts. Before Keeper Warren Porter could react, Orion crouched low, swerved to the side, and sent the Quaffle past him.
Shaking his head, Porter retrieved the Quaffle and threw it back to Lizzie, but before she could take off for her next attack, Ethan called everyone back to the ground.
"Smashing work, team, well done. I'm seeing some mighty fine improvements here," he said when they had landed. He nodded at Orion. "That was some nice flying you did just now. I believe broomsurfing used to be a special move of yours?"
Orion bowed his head. "Only if you're one with your broomstick can you be one with the air."
"Yeah, sure. You taught Skye and Lizzie back at school, didn't you?"
"There can be no balance within a team when there is no balance within ourselves. Helping my players to find it was a cornerstone of my philosophy."
A content expression formed on Ethan's face. "Perfect. Let me show you something."
He drew his wand and conjured a blackboard, which kept hovering next to him at eye level. Tapping his wand against it, fine lines of chalk appeared, which formed a collection of arrows and circles that made Lizzie's head swim.
"It's called the Quaffle Cutback, an old Wanderers technique," Ethan explained proudly. "Hasn't been used in decades because it can be kinda risky. But if done right, it's a guaranteed goal."
Next to Lizzie, Skye frowned. "The Quaffle Cutback? Isn't that the one where Grandpa almost broke his skull?"
"Aye, that's the one," Ethan said cheerfully. "Really was a nasty fall, but don't you worry," he added as he saw the collectively raised eyebrows of his Chasers, "he made the goal before he passed out."
The Quaffle Cutback turned out to be a combination of various moves. The Chasers had to fly in a vertical line, passing the Quaffle up and down between them. Once they passed into the scoring zone, they all stood up on their broomsticks. The player holding the Quaffle performed a sharp swerve - the Cutback - and jumped from their broom onto the one of the Chaser flying below. This reckless move would draw the attention away from the Quaffle, which could either be passed on or thrown at the goalposts in an attempt to score.
"Because you can't tell where the Quaffle's going, the Cutback is incredibly difficult to defend. My father scored every single time he used it," Ethan explained, puffing out his chest as if it was his own achievement he was talking about. "Broomsurfing's the hardest thing to learn about it, but half of you can already do it anyway. Getting it served on a silver platter like that, we'd be daft not to use that to our advantage."
"Sorry to interrupt, coach," Morgaine Yarwood said, tentatively raising her hand. "Maybe Lizzie, Skye, and Orion can broomsurf, but the rest of us can't."
"Then you're gonna learn it. Shouldn't be that hard for you if the other three got the hang of it as teenagers, right?"
Morgaine looked like she wanted to protest, but Ethan had already turned away, looking between his blackboard and his players.
"Seeing as Yarwood is about to soil her robes about the surfing part, let's just start with that. Ain't need to teach you how to throw a Quaffle, after all. When a Chaser jumps off their broomstick and gets caught by another, what's that move called, Skye?"
"Blitzen Ballet," Skye said with a frown, "but -"
"Correct. And it's the signature move of which team?"
"The French, but really -"
"The French, correct. I sneaked into a training session once, during the World Cup of '82. They practised that move like the madmen they are, but it did pay them off alright. It's a tricky one, the Blitzen Ballet. Need to trust the one catching you to the last bristle of their broomstick, so I expect full focus from you, team."
"I'll go with Skye," Lizzie said immediately, stepping closer to her increasingly aggravated-looking friend. "We already know how to broomsurf. Orion can teach Morgaine and the others."
Ethan nodded appreciatively. "Good thinking, Lizzie. Quick. I like that. Alright, let's get cracking."
About half an hour later, Lizzie had to admit that Ethan's trust in her and Skye's abilities may have been unwarranted. It had been years since they had broomsurfed last, and it took Lizzie several failed attempts before she could stand - let alone move - on the handle of her Silverswift.
Skye was faring only slightly better. She was surfing at neck-breaking speed but without much control. When Lizzie gave the signal for her to jump, Skye took off so rashly that Lizzie had to fight to keep her broom airborne upon the impact.
When it was her turn, Lizzie gathered her courage before speeding up and pushing herself into a standing position. Once she had found her footing, she accelerated further and surfed towards Skye, who was flying a few feet below her.
A little to the side and a lot closer to the water surface, Orion had gathered the other players around him. Most were struggling to stand and holding onto each other for support, some already dripping wet from having fallen into the water.
Aside from Orion, the only one to still be dry was Morgaine Yarwood. She was swaying every now and again but otherwise looked like she was standing securely. Recalling the many tedious hours Lizzie had practised balancing until she had gotten a feeling for it, she felt a flash of annoyance at Morgaine's rapid progress.
When the redheaded Chaser gave Orion a proud smile and he returned it, Lizzie's irritation grew. Morgaine was supposed to learn balancing so they could practise the Quaffle Cutback together and not flirt with Orion. Ethan would be livid if he saw; the rules he had set for his team upon becoming coach were clear - relationships between players were to remain strictly professional. Someone ought to remind Morgaine of the trouble she was getting herself into.
As Lizzie's eyes settled on Orion, who calmly balanced the movements of his broomstick as if he was on solid ground, she felt her anger subside. Contrary to his teammates, he was standing on only one foot, the sea breeze catching in the strands of his hair and making them gently move around his face. His lips were drawn into a serene smile, and on his chest, which was covered in dark lines and patterns that extended down his arms, the polished stone of his necklace was gleaming. He looked at peace with the world around him, and for just a moment, Lizzie's attention was slipping.
"Jameson! Jump!"
Completely caught off guard, Lizzie lost hold of her footing. Flailing her arms, she slowly tipped backwards, crashing back first into the water a moment later. When she emerged from the waves huffing and puffing, Skye was doubling over with laughter.
"Merlin's shaved arse!" Lizzie screamed. "What did you do that for?"
"Ain't my fault if you daydream during practice!"
"I wasn't," Lizzie protested, looking around for her broomstick but unable to see it anywhere. She inhaled sharply as a stinging pain shot up from her back and into her neck. "You've had your fun, now get me the hell out of here!"
"You can swim, can't you?"
Lizzie fervently wished she hadn't left her wand on the beach when a shadow fell over her. Orion had flown over and was now hovering next to her, so close above the water that his feet disappeared beneath the waves. With a friendly smile, he extended his hand.
"Need a lift?"
Lizzie hesitated. A little further ahead, she could now spot the reddish bristles of her Silverswift bobbing on the waves; she contemplated swimming over to get it, but the pain in her neck was excruciating, so she nodded gingerly.
After getting out of the water, Lizzie sat behind Orion with her arms wrapped around his torso. A familiar mix of ginger and patchouli reached her nose, and a tingling feeling rose in her chest at the memories his scent invoked suddenly in her. She was relieved to bring some much-needed distance between them once she had summoned her broom from the waves and clambered onto it again.
Her neck was still hurting by the time they returned to the team - so much so, in fact, that flying soon proved to be impossible and Ethan decided to end their session. While the other players went to get changed, Lizzie visited the Healers' tent to get her neck checked over.
After having been diagnosed with a pinched nerve and given a potion against the pain, she was surprised to find Orion waiting for her outside the tent. He had been sitting in the sand looking at the sea but rose to his feet as soon as he saw her.
"How's your neck?"
"It hurts when I turn my head, but it should be better soon."
Orion hummed in response. "Those who soar high are at the risk of falling all the deeper. Your crash looked pretty painful."
Aware of his eyes on her, Lizzie looked straight ahead and shrugged, albeit carefully. "It wasn't that bad. I've been hurt worse."
When Orion didn't reply, Lizzie realised how her words must have come across. "When I broke my wrist, I mean," she clarified, colour rising to her cheeks. "That was a lot worse."
Relief flickered over Orion's face, if only momentarily. "It does need more than a scratch to keep you on the ground."
Much to her surprise, Lizzie found herself laughing. "It was definitely more than a scratch, but it's fine now. I was scared it wouldn't be with all the training, but it hasn't hurt once since we've been here.
Orion nodded, a smile forming on his face as well. "The sun rises after every night, no matter how dark it may appear. Your light shines as brightly as I remember it, if not more." He paused, and his smile turned into a lopsided smirk Lizzie remembered all too well. "Except for your balance. You're lacking in that regard, Chaser."
"It's not like I've had to practise it as often as I used to," Lizzie replied, but not in an unkind manner. That Orion had used her old nickname hadn't escaped her notice, but somehow, it didn't bother her as much as it had in Wigtown.
"Balance isn't something you should only strive for in your play. It encompasses everything, how you perceive the world and how the world perceives you. It's all one."
Lizzie shrugged; Orion's holistic approach toward Quidditch had its benefits, but Lizzie had never looked at it other than a way to improve her abilities. The spiritual side of balancing she had always left to him.
"Balancing is not the answer to everything," she told him consequently, making Orion chuckle.
"But it is. There can be balance without success, but never success without balance."
"If you say so."
"Ethan's new manoeuvre won't bear fruit without balancing. Your broomsurfing today was a sorry shadow of what I know you can do." Lizzie opened her mouth to protest, but Orion raised a hand to make her stop. "You are trying to run when you have forgotten how to walk. If you want me to, I can help you remember."
"You want to help me find my balance?" Lizzie asked sceptically.
She hesitated when Orion nodded. He wanted to go back to being friends, and so did she; balancing together had been something they had done for many years, and he had a point - if Ethan wanted to pull through with the Quaffle Cutback, she would need to relearn broomsurfing, one way or another.
"Alright," she sighed eventually, "back to zero. Balancing it is."
***
It had become part of the team's evening routine to gather around a campfire after the training day was officially done. While the rest of their teammates armed themselves with drinks and marshmallows and headed to the fire pit, Orion and Lizzie collected their broomsticks and set off in the opposite direction.
They walked along the shore, discussing the boot camp, the team's progress and Ethan's new manoeuvre, and Lizzie was surprised at how natural chatting with Orion still felt. She was so caught up in their conversation that she was momentarily confused when Orion eventually came to a halt.
"This seems as good a place as any."
They had gone further than Lizzie had realised; the camp had vanished behind the rising dunes and the sun was setting on the horizon, painting the sky and waves in mirroring streaks of orange, pink and yellow. Aware that Orion was waiting for a reply, Lizzie awkwardly cleared her throat.
"So, what now?"
"If all our care is directed at the blossoming shoots of a tree, it will wither before long. The petals might catch the eye, but it is to its foundations that we must attend to combat sickness."
"Back to the roots, you mean?"
Orion smiled in response, letting his Nimbus hover at knee level and stepping onto it. When he motioned for Lizzie to do the same, her tired legs made her get back down again before she had so much as set both feet on the handle.
Embarrassed by this pathetic attempt, Lizzie tried again. She made it onto her broom this time, but her momentum immediately sent her toppling forward. Orion caught her by the shoulders, the impact forcing him to step down from his broomstick with one foot.
"Prudence gets us farther than haste," he said patiently as he helped Lizzie to right herself. "Be the tortoise, not the hare. Try again."
Lizzie took a moment to push away all unnecessary thoughts until she felt firmly rooted in the moment. When she stepped up next, she finally stood securely. She looked to Orion with a proud smile, and as she did so, her focus slipped and she had to hop off her Silverswift a third time.
"Slow and steady," Orion reminded her when she made a frustrated noise. "Balancing is not a race." He held out his hand. "Let me help you."
Lizzie looked at the hand Orion was offering her and then back at him. His smile was softening his face and made the corners of his eyes crease, just as Lizzie remembered it. Slowly, she reached for his hand and took it.
She let Orion help her get back onto her broom, holding onto his underarms for support. Once she had settled, she closed her eyes but wasn't ready to let go of him just yet. She forced herself to focus on the wind in her hair, the sound of the waves, the movements of her broom, anything but the tingling feeling spreading from her stomach and into the rest of her.
"What was once engraved in our minds can be forgotten but is never lost. I knew you could do it, Chaser."
Orion's voice had a different ring to it than before. He was close, much closer than Lizzie had realised at first. The wind was catching in his hair and lifting some of the raven strands; Lizzie fought the urge to reach out and tuck them back behind his ear. As she became aware of it, her heart started beating twice as fast as it had before.
Feeling suddenly unsteady, she tightened her hold on Orion, but he never even wavered. The light reflected in his eyes, warm as the last rays of the sun and dark as the night that was about to fall. Everything about Orion could have changed, and Lizzie would still have known his eyes under a million. Once upon a time, they had seen into her very soul.
As he shifted his weight slightly, she felt the warmth of his body close to hers and how his pulse was racing beneath her fingertips, and just for a moment, their eyes met before his gaze dropped to her lips. Time seemed to stand still as Lizzie waited with bated breath and a hammering heart on what would happen next.
But then, Orion blinked, and as if waking up from a dream, the spell between them was broken. He abruptly let go of Lizzie's hands and stepped back and down from his broomstick. Suddenly robbed of his support, Lizzie staggered but didn't fall. Orion turned away and ran his fingers through his hair, looking out over the blackening sea.
"Congratulations, Chaser," he said with an unreadable expression, "it looks like you found your balance again."
He picked up his broom and walked back the way they had come without looking back. Lizzie watched after him, her heart pounding painfully inside her chest and his words ringing in her ear. She wasn't sure if he was right.
If anything, she felt more unbalanced than before.