December 1976
(to clarify: summer '76; reserve seeker. Fall 1976-August 1977, chaser. Fall '77 due to injury and a desire not to travel as much, began apprentice work to being a trainer. Aug. 1978 is the "big disaster.")
"All right team- hit the showers! That's enough for today. Good practice all." We joined in as our coach said the next line in his usual end-of practice speech.
"But tomorrow must be better!"
"That's right." He looked proudly at us as we ambled off the Quidditch pitch.
There was the usual chatter as we headed to the locker rooms:
"If he worked us any harder- we'd be house elves!"
"Everyone ready for a pint of mead after this?"
"I think that bludger had my name on it- where was the bloody beater anyway!"
As a new graduate from Hogwart's I put in applications several places, not really sure what I wanted to do coming out of school. Like a lot of Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff students in my graduating class, I had almost too many options available to really settle on one. I didn't want to be stuck behind a desk- that's about all I knew. And after losing a few close relatives to the war, I didn't want to join the ranks on the lines.
On a whim I tried out for the Quidditch league with a friend from school, more so Kendra wouldn't be trying out alone. I was rather surprised to find a job offer as reserve seeker for the Scotland Pride of Portree team, under Coach Trevor Rhodes. Kendra went on to train as reserve seeker for the Holyhead Harpies. Much to the obvious disappointment of my professors, and the cheering support of over half of my family, I joined the quidditch league rather the take a ministry or research position. At the end of last season, one of the Chasers received an offer to go work at the Quidditch museum- moving me into a full chaser position.
I looked at myself in the mirror. I was just 19 flushed, tan, trim. My dark auburn hair windblown and slipping from the knot I'd tied in it. A little taller then most chasers, my friends would joke about my Scottish ancestry showing up in my high cheekbones and dark blue eyes. My shoulders were a mass of freckles, except on the right side where I was still had a mess of bruises. Blocking a bludger with ones back is hardly recommended but sometimes required. The bones were re-knitted and we still won the match against the Windborne Wasps. Our upcoming game against the Arrows was going to be a challenge.
I got the bottle of linnement out of the locker the team medic had left for me. I was to rub it in to the injured site, leave sit for 10-15 minutes then rinse off in the shower. At least it didn't smell as awful as the potion Bowie has to use.
"Want some help with that Finnegan?"
"Sure thing, thanks, Meg!"
"Hey, I owe you one for saving my broom in the middle of the match like that! And I think you even took care of that slight drag-list my Nimbus had developed."
Meg Thorton played Seeker for our team. Petit, short cropped black hair, green eyes. She was also becoming a very close friend. We started to get to know one another at the end-of-season party last year after kicking her jerk of a husband out of the pub. He had been carrying on with a protesting bar-maid in front of her and the rest of the team. We were all aware he didn't treat Meg right, but this pushed all of us, including Meg, too far. We nearly caused a riot clearing him out it took nearly 4 months to pay for the damages. Coach, when interviewed by the Profit called it "spirit of teamwork in action."
As he often reminds us: good teams are like family, and you take care of your family.
"That was some save the other day! I didn't know it was possible to do a double-upside down barrel roll, especially after being hit by a bludger." We both laugh knowing the maneuver was an accident, caused by the combination of the angle the bludger hit, and the recent removal of a balancing charm from my broom. It hit, and inertia caused over-rotation from lack of resistance. Admittedly, I'm still working on that.
It was just fortunate I'd passed the Quaffle before the third rotation of my broom plowed me into the ground. The coach commented today, that as soon as he figured out how to perform the roll safely, he was adding it to the team practices. It either looked really showy, or he thinks it's effective. But he's had me practicing it non-stop since. I think it's revenge for showing up on a refurbished 60-year-old broom rather then the new Nimbus or Comet sports model he was insisting I use after my previous broom was half shattered by a runaway bludger during practice. I'd rather count on my own flying skills and have a broom that responds accurately to where I want it to go, WHEN I want it to go.
I glance fondly at my Silver Arrow II in the rack next to me. It was my grandfathers that I found in the family vault. After doing a lot of research, I was able to fully reactivate all the charms on it. I also researched what 'improvements' have been made to the top model racing brooms and modified this broom to match for speed, comfort, wind resistance, and agility. And only added the safety and anti-hexing charms that didn't interfere with the broom. It was my most ambitious project to date and was still a work in progress. Last season I won a 'most valuable rookie' award from my team for taking on broom care and maintenance as part of my team duties. As active as I tend to be, having a hobby that requires incredible patience, stillness, focus, and concentration is a benefit. Someday, I hope it becomes possible to turn the hobby into a lifetime career.
I emerge from the showers, deposit my uniform in the cleaner, change into my new winter dress robes set my hair and make-up and left the locker room. The full team was heading out to celebrate the yuletide, and Coach's 15th anniversary with the team. Meg and Dara Macnab are waiting for me at the entrance, along Sean Ross the other Chaser. We were quickly joined by: Galena Reed, the team medic, Tallys Sherrod, the new transfer Beater from France, Bowie Bently the other beater and our most senior member. We had to wait a few more minutes for our keeper Jarvis Thornton and team Captain Hendrix Stocker. The three newly hired reserve players would be waiting for us at the restaurant.
We had made reservations ahead of time so we were able to arrange a portkey to travel together rather then risk apparating one at a time. Portkeys are monitored as well, but harder to trace then several people arriving at scattered times in a single place, and much safer then the floo network has proved to be in recent weeks according to the papers.
We arrived shortly before our coach did. There were a lot of people in the room. As many of the retired players that his wife could contact also joined us along with other friends and family. My brother from the Ministry was acting as photographer so everyone would be in the pictures. The restaurant was overjoyed to host this large of a crowd. When Coach Rhodes arrived, someone let off some indoor fireworks setting off much laughing and cheering.
Such a night! There was laughter and stories told over cocktails, then we were all seated to a fine dinner. I ended up next to a retired beater, Harold McGinnis, who left the year before I joined. He was working for the ministry now, but he still went to as many of our matches as he was able either as a security wizard or a spectator. Meg, Harold and I ended up in a lasting conversation about broom restoration and comparing what I know about old brooms to the new.
I jumped slightly as I felt hands caress my neck. Turning around with a glare for Ritche my best friend and significant other of nearly a year- he mockingly backed up a pace, a quipped about my Irish temper showing through again. He gave me quick kiss on the cheek and sat down next to Meg. He quickly joined the broom and quidditch discussion, which lasted throughout dinner.
During dessert, toasts were made, many humorous. Ritche stood up as if to make a toast.
"Coach, Madame Rhodes- I asked your permission if I could do this, now seems to be a good time." I saw the coach make little shooing motions at him.
Ritche came around the table and pulled a very stunned me to my feet.
He got down on one knee in muggle fashon, pulled out a ring from his pocket and asked very pointedly if I would consider hand-fasting our lives together. We'd talked about it off an on for a few months- how could I say no? But nothing came out when I tried to say yes, so I just nodded emphatically.
More cheers as he placed the ring on my finger, swept me off my feet into a quick embrace- at which point my brother snapped a photo. I couldn't stop laughing, realizing he was in on all this as well. Meg and Dara rolled in a second cake congratulating Ritchie and I. More photos were taken and more toasts were given. There was an overwhelming feeling of camaraderie in the room that night.
The laughter was broken by the sounds of explosions from nearby. The ministry members in the room motioned us all to remain in our seats and away from windows while they checked it out. Not 5 minutes passed before Harold and my Brother returned.
There was nothing that could be done. Magical law enforcement was putting out the fire, helping the victims, and dissipating the dark mark.
Coach stood in the silence that had descended on the room.
"Our laughter and friendship is stronger then the hatred that exists outside these doors. Have courage. Let us raise our glasses to our friends at the ministry, and the unknown fallen. But we have to remember it is okay to celebrate the joy-filled occasions in our lives. If they can take that away- then they will have truly won. The ministry has locked down the neighborhood for the next 4 hours. We will probably be searched in a short while. In the meantime; eat hearty, drink boldly and Lori and Ritche- Love long." We raised our glasses, toasted- and in time conversation began to return to a normal level.
As my brother one time pointed out as a ministry witch-tracker, (the ones who keep an eye on muggle born wizards and witches- children can't always control their powers) he felt it's only a matter of time before Lord V. succeeds in taking over. V had too much support in the beginning, and gained too strong a foothold among the radicals. It wasn't until he started killing the half-borns that people thought he'd crossed the line. My brother went on to say the Quidditch league staying active as long as it has helps keep the hope of the common witch and wizard alive. There has been talk for over a year at this point about shutting it down for the safety of the teams. The teams each voted, nearly unanimously, to keep playing and doing what we can in that way for the citizens.
It's our way of standing up for the way of life we're all fighting in our won ways to preserve.
My brother, Ritchie, and I apparated back to the flat my brother and I shared when I was in the area. There was an owl waiting for Michael – he changed into full ministry robes and went to the office.
I fixed some tea and we carried it to the veranda.
Sitting there under the stars, Ritchie took my hand made another promise to me. I'd never face a dark night like this along as long as he was with me.
As long as he was with me...
As long as he was with me...
As long as he was with me...
Just under two years later, I stood in the rain at his graveside- a young widow, the rain mingling with the salt tears on my face. The ground crew, still burying him and most of my friends and teammates. We weren't even married a year.
We had all gamboled with death.
And lost.
Harold McGinnis and I had remained in contact since the Coach's anniversary. I asked him and my brother about whether they thought I could get a job at the ministry. They were going to talk to some people and see what they could do.
After the services I went back to our home of 6 months in Goderics Hollow.
We'd never even finished unpacking.
I faced the entry foyer and felt a feeling of numbness spread and eclipse the grief that had been with me these past few weeks during the clean up and digging out of the Quidditch stadium.
All that remained, were the tasks to be completed.
Pack, sell stuff, donate, move remaining stuff to storage, sell the house. Move.
Move on.
They all would want me to Move On. My friends-all of them like family, my husband, and the children we'll never have.
I turn to direct the movers- dry eyed and steady. The realtor said there was a newlywed couple fresh out of Hogwarts who'd made a bid on the house. I hope they find much as much joy here as we did.
"Go ahead and move those empty boxes over there. We'll shrink them after they're full."