((This...is probably my least favorite part of what I have written, so far. I promise that this will become more exciting. Don't worry. I just want to establish the time and characters more than anything else. Also, it'll come in again, later on. : )
I couldn't resist throwing a bone to myself and stirring in one of my favorite character pairings. You'll see for yourselves, don't worry.
To those of you who set this story to their Alerts, commented, or even just read, thank you. I love seeing those numbers go up whenever I check this site. It kind of makes my day. Here's Chapter Two!))
The campsites were crushes of people, crowded and exuberant and beautiful. Green, shamrock-covered tents, Viktor Krum's scowling face, and more than anything, people everywhere. Greeting, hugging, calling, running, playing, laughing. All idea of hiding from Muggles seemed to have been abandoned as sparks of multiple colors erupted from wands. Clutching a pair of Omnioculars and a bottle of Butterbeer in one hand, her other rested on her sister's shoulder, Shay and her family pressed through the crowds and into the stands, up many flights of stairs and into a box high above the green below. From far across the pitch came Ludo Bagman's magically enhanced voice, booming out across the field to fill up every stand. Settling back in her seat, Shay adjusted her Omnioculars, took a sip of butterbeer, and turned to her sister.
"So, Kitten, which House for you?" She asked. Catrina wrinkled her nose at the old nickname, but seemed to consider the question.
"As long as it's not Slytherin," she said slowly, "I'll be happy."
Shay laughed.
"You have good taste, for an eleven year old."
Catrina stuck her tongue out and crossed her eyes.
"Catrina Eira Morse, one of these days your face is going to freeze like that, and then you'll be sorry."
Emily More propped her hands on her hips, glaring down at her younger daughter. The eleven year old slumped in her seat and crossed her arms, eyes focused and tongue back in her mouth. Emily sighed. "Sit up straight," she huffed, taking a seat beside her eldest daughter. Emily Morse was a woman who had once been a great beauty, and it was evident on her face. Age hadn't taken her beauty, but mellowed it, sinking lines into her elegant face and knotting her hands. One of these hands gripped her eldest daughter's arm, examining a set of marks ingrained in the flesh. "What's this?" She asked, turning Shay's arm back and forth. Shay winced, realizing suddenly that the short sleeves had been a mistake.
"He bit me," she said shortly, pulling her arm away. "And that hurts, Mum."
"Well, I should imagine so! Who bit you?"
"I'm not sure," Adam Morse said as he took a seat next to his wife, "that I want to know what you're talking of, over here."
Shay laughed, turning so that her father could see the prints in her skin.
"Ouch!" he exclaimed. "Who did that?"
"My lead Abraxan," she responded. "He got, er…too excited one morning at breakfast."
"I don't like you working with those creatures," Emily sing-songed.
"They're just horses, Mum, not dragons. They're not even hippogriffs, for goodness' sake."
"They're dangerous," Emily responded. "Obviously, considering they took a chunk out of your arm."
"A chunk? Mum, that's hardly even a nip."
"My point exactly! You didn't go to Hogwarts so that…"
"Look! Mascots!"
Shay's father, in an obvious attempt at distraction, held his Omnioculars to his eyes and peered down into the stadium below. A group of veela had assembled (much to Emily's displeasure) and had begun to dance. A wild, spinning, launching dance that alternately fascinated and repelled Shay. And then suddenly, from above, two balls of light. They separated and melded again before forming a large, glittering shamrock high in the air, showering gold coins down on the spectators. Catrina laughed her delight, scooping the coins up in her palms.
"Careful," Mr. Morse said with a grin, "Leprechauns can be tricky."
"Dad!" Catrina laughed, "It's just coins!"
She tucked them away in her pocket, drawing her knees up to her chest and circling them with her arms. Mrs. Morse tutted at the fact that Catrina's feet were on the chair, yet no one made a move to scold her. The air of festivity had taken over them all, and almost anything could have been acceptable, now. Finally, the mascots took their respective places on the sidelines, and Lugo Bagman's voice announced the names of the Bulgarian players. Curious, Shay focused the Omnioculars on their Seeker. She didn't see what the big deal was about, really. He looked like an eagle chick that had grown up too quickly; his nose was too big for his face, and he held his shoulders a bit awkwardly. But his eyes were sharp and flinty, and Shay knew in the moment she saw them that he had to be a fantastic Seeker.
Shay had never been a Quidditch player, much to her father's displeasure. Catrina had always shown signs of being adept with a broomstick, and was so quick and coordinated that the family was sure she would soon be a Chaser. But Shay had always been more of a feet-firmly-planted kind of a girl. The flying lessons given to her in first year had been interesting, and she had enjoyed the brief interludes of flight. She would find, as she grew, that she preferred the solid, rocking motion of a flying horse over the thin handle of a broom any day.
Yet watching Quidditch had always been great fun, and she had read Quidditch Through the Ages when her cousin gave it to her, one Christmas. She had watched every game at Hogwarts, every single one, and she had learned just what it was that made a Quidditch team win or lose. Although she had to admit the fact that watching wasn't always just about Quidditch: some of the boys who played were really very attractive. Especially those who had nothing to do with Slytherin.
Shay shook her head and returned to the present moment, pressing her Omnioculars more closely to her eyes as the action began. Ludo Bagman was only calling out names, now, as the Quaffle soared back and forth between Chasers. Ireland took the lead early on, much to the delight of those clad in green (her own little shamrock pin was squealing its excitement) which only served to anger the Bulgarian team. Bludgers began to fly more aggressively, swung into action by the ferocious Bulgarian beaters.
Then, suddenly, like birds of prey combating over a morsel of meat, the two Seekers began to plunge to the ground. Faster and faster they went, careening toward the green, green grass below until….Lynch smashed into the ground, Krum soared back into the sky, and the crowd groaned. Fiddling with her Omnioculars, Shay watched the words "Wronski Feint - Dangerous Seeker Diversion" flash up. She groaned in unison with the crowd. An unfortunate trick to fall for, allowing Krum time to locate the Snitch while Lynch was attended to by medi-wizards. Finally, the Irish Seeker was back in the air and play commenced. It was brutal, more war than game. Shay couldn't help but imagine trumpets blaring and banners waving, as they might have long ago.
It seemed that the game was dissolving in on itself, so much happening at once that it was difficult to know where to look. The veela had taken offense to something the leprechauns were doing, and strode out on the field while their appearances rapidly changed into something terrible. Fire seemed to shoot from their hands while Ministry wizards tried desperately to intercede.
In the end poor, battered Lynch hit the ground once again while Krum rose, bleeding, into the sky with the Snitch clutched in his hand. It was the end of the game, but Ireland's victory. The cheers of the supporters crashed through the stands while the team, jumping and crying out their victory, began the ascent to the top box directly across from the Morses. The box had been brightly illuminated so that all could see the glorious victors accepting their trophy. Shay squinted into it, trying to make out the figures who were little more than shadows, at the moment.
"Shay," Catrina whispered, "Use your Omnioculars, stupid." Shay laughed, muttered: "Of course," and peered through the lenses. There was the Bulgarian team, dignified even if they had been defeated (and Krum, looking even more awkward on the ground than he did on a broom), the victorious Irish team, and a bevy of other people. There was the bright blonde hair of the Malfoys, the Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, and the visiting Minister from Bulgaria. And there, lined up like ducks, were the Weasleys. Shay grinned, focusing her Omnioculars in. Mr. Weasley, Bill, Charlie, Percy, Fred and George, Ron, and Ginny. With them were Hermione Granger and, of course, the famous Harry Potter. Harry, Hermione, and Ron had entered Hogwarts during Shay's sixth year. She well remembered the hush that had fallen over the Great Hall as Harry Potter had settled the Sorting Hat onto his head, hiding his scar (and most of the rest of his face) from view. Though they would never voice it aloud, each House desperately wanted to say that theirs was Harry Potter's House, theirs would house the Boy Who Lived. Even Slytherins looked on eagerly, hoping their ambition and cunning would be enough to lure in Harry Potter. Oliver, she remembered, had been ecstatic when Harry had shown his colors as a Seeker.
"The Boy Who Lived, Shay! On my team! And he's a bloody brilliant Seeker, too. No way we can lose the Quidditch Cup, now!"
Shay watched the Irish team accept their prize, but her attention was drawn back time and again to the Weasley clan. She had known most of them during her years at Hogwarts. Even little Ginny had been Sorted in Shay's seventh year. There was a last year at Hogwarts Shay would have traded for just about anything. Anything to not have the creature in the Chamber of Secrets pressed to everyone's minds. For the first time in her life at Hogwarts, Shay had gone home for all holidays, preferring the peace and safety away from whatever was roaming the grounds. At least the Boy Who Lived had saved the day again, rescuing little Ginny Weasley from her fate and destroying the Chamber's creature forever.
With the match over, the crowds began to press down the stairs and out of the pitch, rowdy with the excitement of the game. Even the Bulgaria supporters couldn't help but catch on to the excitement, arguing animatedly with whoever would listen that Bulgaria did not, under any circumstances, deserve that many penalties. Music and fireworks and all the rest streamed out into the night sky, enveloping the crowds in a feeling of familiarity, almost as if they had known each other for ever, and were just waiting for this moment to greet one another. Shay's family, joined by the Woods just outside of the pitch, ambled back through the night air to the Morse's tent. Shay had never liked the thing: it was a bit much for her tastes, too ostentatious, but her father adored it. It was built to resemble a palace, complete with turrets and flying flags and fireworks that could erupt from the "tower" with a wave of a wand. Inside was as luxurious as the outward appearance, all wide spaces and clean, shining surfaces. The two families sat around the "kitchen table" for a long time, chatting and sipping mugs of tea and cocoa (to which the fathers had added a healthy dose of alcohol, "hidden" from the mothers…who glanced at each other and winked conspiratorially.) The kids, as Shay, Oliver, and Catrina were still known, spent the time playing Exploding Snap and arguing happily over the finer points of the Quidditch match.
"I still think that Wronski Feint thing is just wrong," Shay said, glancing at the cards. "I mean, what's the other Seeker supposed to do? If he doesn't go for it, he runs the risk of being mistaken and not getting the Snith. If he does go for it, he ends up face-planted in the pitch."
"Which is why," Oliver said, slamming his wand into one of his cards a bit too forcefully, "it's such an excellenet move! You can't tell!"
"See, you're just for it because you're a Seeker," Shay said, pointing an accusatory finger at her cousin. "And don't ever have to worry about it. What about Harry Potter, hmm?"
"Harry," Oliver said, considering the game as he formed a reply, "Is too smart to fall for a Wronski Feint. Besides, the kid can see a Snitch in pea-soup fog from three miles away."
Shay rolled her eyes and took a long sip of cocoa.
"So, Ol," she said finally, glancing slyly at Catrina and then up at the parents. Luckily, the adults were too absorbed in a conversation in the sitting room portion that they paid no attention, "whose this girl you wrote me about?"
Catrina giggled.
"Ollie's got a girlfriend, Ollie's got a girlfriend," she sing-songed.
"Ollie wishes he had a girlfriend," Shay corrected. "Come on, Ol. Tell."
Oliver sighed, watching the cards shuffle themselves.
"It's nothing," he said, tapping a card with his wind and wincing reflexively; nothing happened, and the game continued.
"Alright, that's a lie," Shay said as her turn came around. "Considering you seemed downright confused when you wrote me."
"Well, I didn't quite expect you to bring it up at the World Cup."
Shay shrugged, the turn passing to Catrina.
"Where else? It's not like we see you every day, Ol."
Oliver shook his head and ran a hand through his hair.
"Alright, alright," he said finally. "It's one of my old Chasers from…"
"Whoah, whoah. A teammate? Oliver, breaking your own rules, are you?"
Oliver's ears turned pink.
"She's not a teammate now," he defended. "I'm not her Captain anymore."
"Captain, my captain!" Catrina shrieked before dissolving in a fit of giggles.
"What's going on over there?" Mr. Wood called.
"Nothing, Uncle," Shay responded. "Just Cat being Cat."
As if this were an adequate response, Mr. Wood grinned and turned away.
"So, one of your Chasers. That narrows it down to three girls, then. Angelina, Alicia, or Katie. And considering Fred fancies Angelina and just won't tell her, even though it's obvious to the whole entire school, and you would never go against a friend in that sense, that actually leaves Alicia or Kate."
"Your logic is astounding," Oliver said dryly. Shay grinned smugly, settling back in her sea and watching the cards re-shuffle.
"Why else would I have been a Ravenclaw?" She asked. "Anyway, are you going to tell us which one it is, Ol, or are we going to have to take guesses?"
Oliver passed a hand over his face and mumbled a response. "Can't hear you through your hand," Shay said in monotone, amusedly watching her cousin try to avoid his own response, peering at him from over the brim of her cocoa mug.
"It's Bell," he said finally, and so fast that the words were barely distinguishable. "But she doesn't know, okay, so don't tell her! I know you two were friends at Hogwarts…"
"Oliver, settle down," Shay said, grinning uncontrollably. "I won't tell. So when did this…er…crush become apparent?"
"It's not a "crush". Where in blazes did you get that word, anyway? And…do you remember in her third year when she got Mumblemumps and couldn't leave the Hospital Wing?"
Shay raised an eyebrow, but nodded.
"I guess you could say I started to actually…pay attention? Then."
"When she was sick with Mumblemumps?"
Oliver's ears seemed to have filled their redness quota, and the color had begun to spread down his neck.
"She was so upset she couldn't fly," he recalled, "and she kept complaining that she was bored, so I'd go up there with my playbook and…"
Shay tried to stifle her laughter, with little success: it came out as a kind of hushed, braying snort.
"You made her help you with your Quidditch strategies?" She asked incredulously.
"I didn't make her do anything! She wanted to help."
"Oh, sure. And being sick with Mumblemumps and having nothing to do did nothing at all to persuade her to help."
Oliver glared at his cousin, who smiled sheepishly.
"Sorry, Ol," she said. "Go on, I won't interrupt anymore. I promise."
Looking as though he didn't quite believe her, Oliver continued.
"So I guess it started then," he said, scratching the back of his neck self-consciously. "I just…didn't realize how helpless she could be, you know? Until she got sick. And I realized that I couldn't do anything to help, which only made things worse. Anyway, I didn't start to actually…er…fancy her until the next year. When she, Ang, and Alicia started giggling over Cedric Diggory and I felt…" His fist clenched on the table next to his cocoa mug, the veins beginning to stand out on his hand .
"Jealous?" Cat said in teasing sing song.
"Yeah," Oliver said, tipping back in his chair until it balanced on only two legs. "That. Anyway, I graduated that year so there wasn't much I could do. And then I didn't hear from here for a while, until I found out about Puddlemere. I sent her a letter, and we've been mailing back and forth since. I just…don't think she sees me as anything more than a friend."
For a moment, Oliver looked so forlorn that Shay wanted to cry and laugh in the same breath.
"Ol," she said instead, "How do you get that from a letter?"
Oliver shrugged, tipping his chair forward again.
"They're just always so…chatty," Oliver responded. "Like the weather and flying and things like that."
"Well, what do you write her about?"
"Puddlemere," Oliver responded quickly "and the cup, and strategies, and…"
"Quidditch?"
Oliver nodded sheepishly.
"There's your problem, you great buffoon. What else is she supposed to say if that's all you're talking about? Talk about something different for a while, and then make your judgements. And I'm sure it would help if you actually made it a point to see her. Get away from the team on a Hogsemeade weekend or something and meet her at the Three Broomsticks. "As friends," of course. For the time being. It really isn't that difficult, Oliver."
Oliver shook his head.
"See, you get this fantastic insight because you're a girl," he said. "You function in the same way. I'm totally lost."
"Your powers of observation," Shay said with a laugh, "are brilliant. Yes, I do know, because I'm a girl. So trust me, Ol. Just take the time to actually get to know her instead of getting to know her Quidditch IQ, alright?"
Oliver shrugged, the cards exploded, and all three "kids" jumped back from the table. Catrina's elbow knocked over her cocoa mug, spilling the sweet substance everywhere. It dripped from the table steadily and soaked the cards.
"Alright, you three," Mrs. Wood said with a fond smile. "I think it's time we all get some sleep." Mr. and Mrs. Wood stood from the sofa, and Oliver pushed his chair away from the table. With a wave of her wand, Shay cleared the cocoa from table and cards, put the game back in its case, and said goodbye to her aunt, uncle, and cousin. With one last chorus of good-nights, the Woods headed back to their own tents.
Shay said her good-nights to her family and turned in, burrowing under blankets that smelled of home. With all the excitement of the day, it didn't take long for Shay to fall into a deep, dreamless sleep.