Our game in Tutshill goes relatively well. Mum and dad can't make it again, since we're playing the same time as United. I manage to get the toss again, which is no small feat, considering their center chase, Amy Hodges is known for her speed. Montague, Gregor, and I are in great form until about two hours into the game when one of their beaters drills me with a bludger from ten feet away, too close to dodge. Luckily it was in my right shoulder, but my game is off for the entire next hour until Jasper catches the snitch and we win it 510 to 260. Our lead would have been much more comfortable had I not been playing with a dislocated shoulder, but the team is still thrilled with the win. Falcons haven't won three in a row during the fall season in years. Sure, one of the wins was the Cannons, but it counts. In fact, the team invites me out to celebrate with them, but I beg off with the excuse that my shoulder is going to need some extra rest tonight.

The next day, I try not to notice that I spent longer than usual getting ready. I wear a blood red and white sundress and red lippy, showing my support for the Wanderers. They are one of Dad's favorite teams because they are Scottish, and they were founded by a family of seven brothers and sisters who started the team in 1422. He loves that the oldest Parkin daughter, Moira happened to marry a Wood. I like that she happened to play left wing chase. However, there aren't many teams that haven't had a Wood ancestor on them. I think being nuts for quidditch runs in the blood.

Once again, I arrive before Finnegan, and I wait an awful long time before he gets there. I try to ignore the fact that I realize I'll be disappointed if he doesn't show. When he finally makes it, he's wearing a black tee and cap again, so I'm not sure who he's supporting.

"Finnegan," I say, trying to sound casual.

"You look nice. Supporting the Wanderers I see," he says, hurrying to sit before the game starts. He really took his time getting here.

"Moira Parkin married a Wood when she retired in 1430. Dad jokes that all direct descendents have the quidditch crazy gene."

"That explains your brother, but not you," returns Finnegan with a laugh.

"I'm here aren't I?" I say gesturing to the field with my right arm, wincing when I remember how sore it is.

"You've got quite the bruise," says the overly observant Finnegan. "Looks like it probably hurts quite a bit."

"Just a little sore," I say, wishing I had brought a scarf or a cardigan to cover my shoulders. "Quidditch injury." I hope he doesn't pry into my explanation.

"I've got a great bruise paste. I'll pass it along through Wood on Monday," Finnegan says turning to the game.

"Thanks," I say in surprise, but he only nods in response as the game is starting, and we focus in on the game. Before joining the Falcons, I wouldn't have expected Finnegan to be so nice, but he's honestly just a good guy.

By the end of the game, I'm quite pleased I came. I've noticed that the keeper for Wingtown tends to practically ignore the right post in addition to being weak on that side. Montague, Gregor, and I can definitely capitalize on that. Additionally, their beaters have some pretty obvious signals that I think I'll be able to pass along to Duncan and Rolland. The Catapults Keeper seemed to be in top form, barely letting in eight goals, but if I had to try and score on him, I think that he has a hard time following the ball when the chasers use rapid passing maneuvers. That could just be the red kits that the Wanderers were wearing though. It's worth trying. Their left chase looks to have a really casual grip, I think I could steal from her in my sleep.

By the time I've looked up from my notes, Finnegan's already left. He didn't even say goodbye.


The bruise paste that Finnegan gives me works like a dream. He was really casual about the whole thing when he gave it to me after practice. I had completely forgotten he had offered it. "Hey, pass this along to your sister. She looks like she needed it when I saw her this weekend."

After using it, I honestly think he might have made it himself. It has a pretty distinctive smell, and a very herbal quality to it. The smell reminds me a little of him, and I think he must use it pretty regularly. I don't think I've ever recovered from a bludger to shoulder so quickly, and I've had more than my fair share. Before Graeme and Walter learned to control the bludger (we only play with one at home usually since Wallie's only eight and honestly not very good yet), I had more than enough bludger injuries. Not because either of them were good at aiming, but because Robbie and I usually had to round up the stupid ball. I'm an awful bludger wrangler.

The game against Wingtown goes amazingly. My scouting paid off, and Gregor manages to score twenty goals through that right hoop by himself. Apparently me and Finnegan had both been telling him to focus his efforts on the right hoop this week, and Montague scored really well too. I ended up without many points, but quite a few assists to the right, and I had my fair share of steals. It helped that we dominated both bludgers completely since I taught Duncan and Rolland all of the signals that their beaters were using last game. We still thrashed them 390 to 270, even thought Jasper didn't catch the snitch. Jasper wasn't exactly happy, but coach was pleased with the win. He kept saying he couldn't get over our dominance of the bludgers, and I know Rolland and Duncan were pleased. They invited the whole team out for drinks, especially me, but I told them I needed to pass because I had to meet my sister for dinner. Mostly I just wanted a shower and to slip on my PJ's and eat crisps and Chinese takeout in my own body for the rest of the evening. Is that too much to ask? Plus the game between Kenmare and the Wasps is a morning game in Kenmare, so I don't particularly want a late night.

"Suuuure…. Your sister," taunted Rolland. The rest of the team laughed, but I can shrug them off, unlike Robbie probably would have. Now the whole team thinks I have a secret girlfriend; but I don't mind, because I can assure you I do not. Robbie might though… I swear I heard giggling coming from his room one morning after he'd been out with his team the night before. Honestly, I don't really want to know.


Heading to Kenmare at the crack of dawn isn't exactly my idea of the perfect Sunday morning. Whoever decided that this game should start at six am is my new least favorite person. Because of this, I've decided that my pajamas are acceptable game attire for this scouting mission. Which means I'm totally mortified when Finnegan shows up, and I'm wearing my fuzzy purple bunny slippers, green and gold snitch covered cotton pajama pants and a grey t-shirt that says WOODCHUCKER in purple writing courtesy of Uncle George.

"Finnegan!" I exclaim more in surprise than greeting when I realize I have company in the players box this morning. Who in their right mind comes to this match for a scouting session!? If Robbie wasn't playing, I can promise I wouldn't be here. I'd be scouting the Puddlemere Harpies game that starts at noon. Actually, I'll probably get dragged to that if this one's over by then. I haven't seen one of Dad and Davie's games all season, and I think mum is about ready to take me aside for a little talk about supporting the family. And also to see if there's something wrong with me.

"Good morning, I snuck us in some doughnuts," he says conspiratorially. "I see you've dressed appropriately." He gives me a wink, and I feel much better about being caught in this ridiculous outfit. The players box is always private, and you can't see in, so I wasn't expecting anyone except the staff working this back part of the stadium to see me. He sits right next to me, bringing the delicious aroma of doughnuts with him. He opens a box, revealing an assortment of pastries. Merlin, it's like he knows my soul.

"You're bloody amazing," I say without thought as I grab a cream filled chocolate covered long-john. I haven't had a good doughnut in ages, and this is just hitting the spot! "Mmm… best idea ever," I say around a mouthful of deliciousness.

"Have as many as you want," he laughs. He's grabbed what looks to be a jelly filled one and seems pretty pleased with himself.

"I will, thank you," I say before polishing off the rest of the doughnut. During the course of the game, I eat two more doughnuts, which in retrospect, maybe I shouldn't have allowed myself to be so piggish. Mum would have said it's unladylike. In my defense, Finnegan ate six, and there were still three leftover. Plus, the game lasted five hours, which is one of the longest games this season, and I was getting hungry again. Fiona finally managed to catch the snitch and put the Wasps out of their misery. They just haven't been the same since Coach Hardbow retired three seasons ago. They trailed by at least two hundred points the last three hours.

"Thanks for the doughnuts, and the bruise paste," I tell Finnegan as we pack up our notes. "I've never recovered from a bludger to the shoulder that quick."

"You're welcome," says Finnegan. He looks like he wants to ask me something, but thinks better of it and we say a quick goodbye. I've got less than an hour to change and make it to Puddlemere. Mum would absolutely die if I showed up to the Family box dressed like this.

Apparating home, I pull off a quick change before making it to the stadium just in time to see dad fly out the gate and do a fly by hi five to all of us kids with an extra kiss for me and mum before he settles in the coach's box with the manager and the owners. I can tell he's glad I made it. Davie looks pretty pleased too, so much that he blows me a kiss after a particularly nice goal. I know it's for me because my brothers always wiggle their pinkies after blowing me kisses and Davie started it. Apparently, when I was younger, I was worried that the kisses might not reach me unless they got a little more tailwind to help them along.

Puddlemere manages to pull off their first win of the season, but I think it's more due to the fact that the Harpies had to play a reserve chaser most of the second half after dad's beaters took out their center chase. Puddlemere's keeper Jared Allen honestly sucks. Management needs to trade him for someone else during the season break if they want to have half a chance at the playoffs.


The week 5 game against the Catapults is almost too easy for the Falcons, but the fact we're almost halfway through the season undefeated is practically unreal. It's unfortunate that most of the teams we've beaten have been losing consistently. If nothing else, we're going to be the best of the teams that don't make it past the first round of the playoff tournament.

I'm unreasonably disappointed when Finnegan doesn't show at the Kestrels game vs. the Pride. When he shows up nearly an hour into the game, my heart does a giddy little dance. The game ends up lasting eight hours while the seekers can't find snitch. Eventually, I offer to go get us something to eat and bring back some Chinese take-out from a place in Portree that Mum and Dad always take us to when we attend a game here. Like usual, we don't talk much, most of our attention focused on the game, but I suspect that's how both of us prefer our quidditch.

Robbie played really well, but the Pride are in top shape and they beat out Fiona for the snitch again. I know Robbie isn't going to be pleased about Kenmare being 3 and 2 with the Falcons undefeated almost halfway through the season.

"What do I owe you for the Chinese?" asks Finnegan as we pack our things away. I got a variety since I wasn't sure what Finnegan would like and couldn't decide on one thing for myself. Right now, I'm working on a spell so they'll all fit in my satchel. He's pulled out a dragon leather wallet.

"It's on me!" I insist. "I still owe you for the bruise cream and the doughnuts. Besides, I'm taking all the leftovers."

"Come on," he protests. I can tell he's uncomfortable accepting that I paid for the meal.

"Just say thank you," I say with a shake of my head. "Your money is no good."

"Fine, thank you," he says with a pout. I send him a smirk before vacating the booth.

Hope you enjoyed this chapter! Thanks for reading and reviewing! E.A.