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?"
"I'm not," Lizzie replied curtly, pulling her dressing gown tighter over the old Magpies jersey she had taken from her keepsake box. Thankfully, Skye didn't push the topic further.
"So, how is it? Tough business, being a Quidditch champion?"
"Not if you've seen one of your dad's boot camps." Lizzie stepped aside to let Skye inside. "Speaking of it, isn't that about to start soon?"
"Got postponed until after the World Cup." Skye cast a curious look around Lizzie's new home. "Not bad, I gotta say. For Montrose, that is."
"I like it," Lizzie shrugged as she made her way into the kitchen. "The company's not quite as illustrious, but the quiet is divine."
"You can just admit you miss me." Skye must have seen the look on Lizzie's face because her teasing grin disappeared. She sighed. "Come on, don't look at me like that. It was a joke, wasn't it?"
Lizzie only hummed in response. A thought striking her, she paused, her spoon loaded with sugar still hovering over the cup of coffee she had been preparing.
"I never gave you my address. How did you even find me?"
Skye scratched her nose. "McNully gave it to me."
"What are you writing to Murphy for?"
"Stuff," Skye shrugged, taking the two cups and a bottle of orange juice from the counter and carrying them to the table. Pulling a chair out for herself, she nearly dropped everything when Mouse came into view, hissing loudly before scurrying away into another room.
"Miss you too, you fleabag," Skye muttered, sitting down on Mouse's chair. She waited until Lizzie had joined her before she spoke again. "How's your first few weeks here been? No one's heard much from you."
"I've kept busy," Lizzie mumbled, rubbing her thumb over a crack in her old Hufflepuff mug. "Settling in, and all."
"Sure thing," Skye said and raised her eyebrows. "So busy you didn't even have time to write? Not even to Orion?"
Lizzie stiffened. "That's different."
"Is it?"
"We decided to just leave it be. It's hurting enough without us picking at the wound, too." She was silent momentarily, fiddling with the ends of her plait. Then, she asked quietly, "How is he?"
"Not good," Skye said grimly. "Turned even more broody and cryptic than usual, and that's saying something. He's at McNully's for the season break, maybe the blathering will cheer him up a bit." She gave Lizzie an innocent look. "Wouldn't hurt to pay them a visit, I'd wager."
Immediately, Lizzie shook her head. "Absolutely not."
"Why? Bet my new Comet Orion would be happy to see you. And it ain't like anyone would tell."
"Tell what? Forget it, Skye. I'm a Magpie now, and he's a Wanderer. It is what it is."
"But -"
"Let it be. Please."
Awkward silence filled the kitchen. Skye's eyes trailed to the window, her face lighting up upon spotting a brown owl sitting on the window sill.
"Looks like your post is here."
Letting the owl inside, she dropped the coins Lizzie handed her into the pouch on its leg and received the rolled-up newspaper in turn. Not bothering with giving it to Lizzie first, she was already rustling through the Daily Prophet's pages as she returned to her seat.
"Rita Skeeter's spouting her nonsense again. Thank Godric she's going back to her gossip once the World Cup's over."
Lizzie grimaced. "What's she writing this time?"
"The usual bollocks about the latest conspiracy theories, why the last preliminary game was definitely rigged, why Bulgaria's Seeker is a hottie..."
She snorted, making Lizzie giggle.
"Anything else?"
"Yeah, she did another section on..." Skye abruptly closed the newspaper. "Nevermind."
"What? Let me see."
"It's just nonsense," Skye said quickly, holding the Prophet out of Lizzie's reach.
Lizzie arched her eyebrows. "Skye? What is it?"
"Told you, nothing."
Staring at each other, Lizzie reached for the Prophet again, Skye trying to keep her away from it all the while. They grappled shortly before Lizzie managed to wind the sport's section from Skye's hands. Her feeling of triumph faded as she read through the article.
"She can't be serious," she whispered. "She can't really think I missed that shot on purpose, can she?"
"No one thinks that," Skye said hurriedly.
"I'd never," Lizzie shook her head, pacing up and down the kitchen. "I misjudged my throw. It happens. It could have happened against the Cannons just the same."
"Hardly," Skye muttered, but Lizzie paid her no mind.
"She only says that because the story about me and Matthew blew up in her face. Does she even know what she's doing there? What if anyone believes her?"
"Jumping Jarveys, Jameson!" Skye almost shouted to be heard over Lizzie's increasingly agitated muttering. "Hold your Hippogriffs, will you? No one believes that Skeeter witch."
Lizzie sniffed. "Are you sure?"
"Sure as a Quaffle's red. And even if someone did, who cares? The team knows the truth, and they'd tell it to anyone who's doubting you."
"Even now that I've left?"
"Especially now that you've left." She elbowed Lizzie in the side. "Once a Wanderer, always a Wanderer... That's what the team is about."
"Thank you," Lizzie smiled weakly. Pulling herself together, she asked, "How's the team, anyway? Has your dad recovered from being runner-up two years in a row?"
Skye snorted. "If you knew what he has in store for next season... not like I'm gonna tell you, of course."
"Of course."
"But we're in for some serious work. Gotta suss out the new dynamic now that you're gone. We're not yet sure who's gonna replace you for good, but so far, Yarwood's been doing quite well."
Lizzie had expected as much. She had thought she'd feel bitter about it but was surprised to find she didn't.
"Good for her. Morgaine deserves a shot at being a regular."
Skye made a derisive noise. "Not sure I'm as chuffed for her as you are."
With wide eyes, Lizzie listened to Skye's recount of how Morgaine had approached her before their first practice after the final. How she had admitted that Matthew had played on her frustration at constantly standing in Lizzie's shadow, and how he had, bit by bit, made her believe that, if Ethan was too blind to recognise Morgaine's talent, she would have to make him see sense another way.
"She took your necklace from your bag the day you wanted to break up with McRae and then watched us tear each other apart," Skye said glumly. "Couldn't believe it when she told me. Lucky for her, Tweed and Docherty weren't there to give me their bats."
Lizzie shook her head. "I would have thought a lot of her, but never that."
"No, me neither. Gave her a good earful about it, and I think she came around. I won't have no traitors on my team."
"Did you tell your dad about it?"
"No. Yarwood messed up alright, but at least she had the guts to tell me. In a way, she got played by McRae just the same as we."
"She wasn't the first to fall for Matthew's tricks. Sadly, I don't think she'll be the last one, either."
Skye looked revulsed at the sheer thought of Matthew. "Have you ever heard from him again?"
"No, he has wreaked enough havoc in my life." Lizzie sighed. "The only downside is the World Cup. He'd gotten us tickets, but I can obviously write those off now."
Much to Lizzie's surprise, Skye's mouth curved into a smirk. "About that..."
She reached into her rucksack and produced a large scroll of parchment, which she tossed to Lizzie. When Lizzie saw what it contained, her eyes widened.
"Where did you get this?" she almost squealed. "The World Cup final has been sold out for months!"
"I'm a Parkin, am I not?" Skye grinned. "If we want Quidditch tickets, we get them. Jokes aside, Lewis was going to bring his girlfriend, but she ditched him a little while ago, so I asked him if I could get her ticket for you. Can't let you miss the World Cup, can I?"
"I don't even know what to say. Thank you so much!"
"Don't go all mushy on me, it's a win-win for us both. Never liked Lewis' girlfriend anyway. She was a Falcons fan, can you imagine?"
Lizzie stifled a giggle. "What was Lewis thinking?"
"My words exactly." Skye leaned forward, excitement flashing in her eyes. "Wait and see, Jameson. This final is gonna be one for the ages."