"How is your shoulder?" Daphne asked as she bustled in.
"Better. I got clearance from my Healer to fly again," Rachel said. She was looking forward to getting on her broomstick as soon as it was a clear day.
"With anyone else, I'd say I couldn't believe they'd still want to fly after all that, but with you I can believe it," she said, turning to look at the crew with her. "Let's set up in the kitchen and then we can use the sitting room as a starting place. If that's alright with you, Rachel?"
"That's fine," Rachel said. Theo had made himself scarce today, because if he'd been around they would have wanted him in some of the photos too.
"Anything you wanted to tell people? We're not planning a big article with this because we just had the one in December, but we'll probably do some short blurbs with it," Daphne asked as they went into the kitchen.
"Nothing new in my life." Nothing that she wanted to tell magical Britain about at least.
"Can I ask you about a rumor that I heard?" she asked as they watched the people setting up clothes for Rachel to wear and the camera equipment. "Don't set that up in here; put that in the sitting room," she said to one of them.
"What rumor?" Rachel asked warily. There were always rumors about her and they ranged from patently ridiculous to outright offensive.
"I heard that you showed up after the attack on the prison, ready to fight the Death Eaters," Daphne said, dropping her voice.
Rachel looked at her. "Where did you hear that?"
"Just a confidential informant," she said, though she looked worried.
"Rumors like that can't be spread." Rachel caught her gaze and held it. "If the Death Eaters think I'm going to show up for attacks, they might escalate so that I will come. We don't want that."
Daphne nodded and glanced around to make sure no one was paying attention to them. "The MLE, they're not asking you to go fight them, are they? Is the situation that bad?"
"No. The MLE would be very happy with me if I stayed put and kept my nose out of it. The last thing they want is me showing up." If the Death Eaters were smart, the last thing they should want was Rachel showing up either.
"That's a relief. I don't want them to ask you to do that," she said, shaking her head. "Alright, you're not going to like me very much, but we've got six outfits for you today. We're hoping to do some pictures in your garden, your sitting room, and your office. Do you think your cats will cooperate long enough to pose with you? Our readers love your cats."
"No promises. What do you want me in first?" Rachel asked, resigning herself to this.
"Let's start with the white and burgundy gown, then come down for hair and make-up. We'll do the sitting room shots first. Is Theo around today?"
"No, no he is not," Rachel said, getting a grin from Daphne. Theo had gone to take refuge with Neville and Hannah until this was all over.
Rachel accepted the gown and went back upstairs so she could change in her bedroom. It took a moment for her to work out how to get the gown on and she adjusted it in the mirror so that it sat right over her shoulders. She looked pale. She needed to get out more. Hopefully the person with the make-up could make her look less tired as well.
She went back down to the kitchen and sat still while they did her hair and make-up. She knew how to do her own hair and make-up, but she generally didn't bother with it and these people could do it better than she could anyway.
About thirty minutes later she went into the sitting room to find lights and a camera had been set up and Daphne was attempting to coax Feverfew onto the sofa.
"You'll have better luck with Dingbat," Rachel told her. Feverfew typically did not like to do what she was told.
"Where might I find her?" Daphne asked.
"Who knows," she said. She wasn't going to force her cats through this. If they were unwise enough to show up, that was on them.
"Let's start standing by the window, in profile," the man with the camera said.
Rachel turned away, rolled her eyes, and moved to the window. This whole thing was ridiculous and she wouldn't do it if it didn't ensure she could write her articles about muggles. "Here?"
"Two steps forward."
She restrained a sigh and resigned herself to being posed and prodded for the next few hours.
"Very nice," Adam Harkness said as they sat down to dinner.
"Kreacher is a very good cook. He's the one who prepared the meal," Rachel said.
"Of course," he said, glancing at Theo. "I suppose that's what we are here to talk about."
"The proposal has been on our minds," Theo agreed neutrally
"What does Rufus have to say about it?" Adam asked.
"Rufus and Amelia both support my proposal," Rachel said, though it was more complicated than that. "Just like me, they are concerned about how our treatment of House Elves reflects on a national stage. Britain is a little bit behind the times. Many nations have regulations for a minimum wage for House Elves."
"And you're not concerned that giving House Elves the freedom to choose where to work isn't going to cause a mass exodus of House Elves?" he pressed.
"No, I'm not. In my experiences with House Elves, most of them will refuse to leave their homes unless they are being mistreated. And if they are being mistreated, we want them to be free to seek a safer place. The protection of vulnerable people is hardly a revolutionary idea," she told him steadily.
"House Elves are hardly people, and I wouldn't call them particularly vulnerable either. Are you aware of the magic they can do?" he countered.
"House Elves are classified as beings, just like humans, centaurs, and mermaids," Theo said, pausing to take a sip of his wine. "We can't possibly say they aren't sentient beings. House Elves want to work. They want to have people to care for. Giving them protections and payment for services won't change that."
"I suppose it seems to me like there is nothing wrong with the status quo on this issue," Adam said, picking up the cloth napkin to dab his lips.
Rachel slowly exhaled and reminded herself that was why they were having this conversation. She couldn't expect people who had grown up with things as they were to have a problem with this. "A lot of what we've been working for since the end of the war is to change the status quo so we won't have another war," she began.
"You can't possibly blame the war on the way we treat House Elves," he said, his eyebrows shooting up.
"I'm not, but it's the same core issue. The way we treat sentient beings says everything about us as a society. That includes prisoners, werewolves, muggleborns, and yes, even House Elves. As soon as we say that someone being different is a reason to treat them as lesser, we open ourselves up to finding more reasons to treat people poorly," Rachel explained, attempting to keep a calm and steady tone.
They sat quietly for a long moment, Adam and Theo eating while Rachel sat. She had rather lost her appetite. She tried not to hold too many working dinners as she rarely ate during them.
"On the other side of things, what harm does this proposal do?" Theo asked. "People who own House Elves can afford to pay them a minimum wage with no problem. We're not putting any undue hardship on anyone. The only thing this proposal does is provide safety for a group of traditionally exploited beings. There's no reason not to provide provisions for giving someone safety and security."
"And I suppose that's how you're approaching it with the public? That anyone who doesn't vote for this is a monster?" Adam asked.
"Hardly." She paused for a moment. "Everyone on the Wizengamot is responsible for voting with their conscience. I'm not here to strong arm you or beg you, I'm merely here to have a discussion and let you come to your own conclusions."
"You're aware of your reputation among the Wizengamot?" he asked, setting down his fork.
"I am." She had heard it all before. Stubborn. Idealist. Naive. Impossible to work with. Mostly she didn't mind. She could be all of those things.
"Are you planning on taking the Minister's position in the next election?" Adam asked.
"No. I have no interest in being the Minister, the ICW chair, or even the Head Warlock," Rachel said, meeting Theo's eyes and watching the corners of his mouth quirk up.
"Why is that? This is why some of the Wizengamot has trouble trusting you, you know?"
Frowning, she puzzled over that. "They have trouble trusting me because I'm not trying to take power?" She would think that people would consider it a good thing she wasn't trying to rule magical Britain.
"They don't understand why you won't take those roles. You are incredibly powerful. They don't understand why you wouldn't take the power that is available to you," Adam said, sounding like he was being honest with her.
"I don't equate magical power with political power. I don't see why people with strong magical abilities should be in charge. I think we need people who know how to do their jobs and who have the best interests of Britain in charge. Being magically strong doesn't automatically make someone moral or intelligent or best suited to lead. I inherited the family Wizengamot seat, but I would not have sought a seat of my own accord. I believe in doing what is best for Britain, and that's what I'm trying to do. Nothing more. Nothing less," Rachel said, feeling a weariness creep over her. Who was she to decide what was best for magical Britain? Some days she barely had her own life in order.
"Perhaps the Wizengamot would be better off if people were like-minded, but they're not. We all have to serve our own interests," Adam said after a long moment.
"That's true. We're not unaware that you have an elected seat. At the end of the day, everyone is accountable to the people of magical Britain. I know there will be articles about the subject in the newspaper and that this is one of those issues where everyone has an opinion," Theo said.
"Less than ten percent of magical Britain owns House Elves, but we see a voting rate of eight seven percent." She hated appealing to him in such a way, but it was relevant. "People will vote for the people who they think are doing the right thing in leading Britain into the future. As more time passes, the more of an international stage Britain takes. How we appear to other nations is important, and people understand that."
Adam sighed. "You honestly believe this won't just be repealed by the next Wizengamot?"
"I have enough votes to prevent that from happening," she promised.
"And it will pass?" he pressed.
"I won't bring this to a vote unless it will pass," she said, meeting his eyes.
He sat, the corner of his mouth turned down as he thought. "If you can promise me that it will pass and won't be repealed, then you have my vote."
"Thank you. I will make sure of my numbers and check in with you before this is called to vote." Rachel paused and then decided to ask. "Would you like to stay for dessert?"
"No, thank you. I've had enough," Adam said.
Rachel and Theo walked him to the floo and when he was gone she let out a heavy sigh. "That's one more."
"You're pretty close," Theo said, slipping an arm around her back.
"Sometimes I think that people have the right idea by hiding in the Department of Mysteries," she said, leaning against him a little and soaking up his presence.
"Would you really be happy doing that?" he asked.
She considered that for a bit. "I would be, but it wouldn't be good for me," she finally decided.
Theo nodded. "Sometimes we have to do things that are good for us even when we don't want to. Do you want to try eating again now that we're alone?"
Rachel knew that was what was good for her, even if she didn't want to do it. "I'll see what one of the Elves can find for me that's light. I can manage something."
"I'll come sit with you and have tea," he said.
They wandered back to the dining room, Rachel's mind busy with tallies of her votes. She was slowly getting closer to this proposal being voted on. Then she wanted some sort of break.
"Aren't you usually in the Department first thing?" Cyril asked when he found Rachel at her desk at eight o'clock on Monday morning.
"I'm taking a few days away from the Department to do some brewing. I can't go further on my research until I've brewed and tested the recipes I've developed," she said, going through her stacks of parchment as she decided what she was brewing first.
"Well, don't stay away too long. The Department doesn't like to lose a regular visitor. She gets attached to us. Want a lab mate for the grunt work?" he offered.
"Sure." Rachel didn't mind Cyril's company. "You don't have anything more pressing to do?"
"I enjoy working with other people and watching them brew. Gives me ideas for my own work."
That had been the one part Rachel had liked about the Guild. It was fun to brew there and to see what other people were working on. "You can help me carry ingredients then. We're brewing these three today." She set most of the parchment aside, collected some blank parchment for notes, and stood. "I haven't been in the ingredient storerooms for more than just a glance. I assume you know where to find things?"
"No problem, though it's intuitive enough if you've been into any apothecary," Cyril said, leading the way toward the brewing area.
There were four different storerooms, based on what could be safely stored together and what was most regularly accessed. They had about two dozen separate stone vaults for ingredients that were too volatile to store with anything else, and those were only in use when someone requested those ingredients for a project they were actively working on.
She passed a recipe to Cyril and they collected baskets and began collecting what they needed from the shelves. It was a little like shopping in a very well stocked apothecary, though she noted more than one ingredient that couldn't be bought at any apothecary in Britain - not legally at least.
"Where do they get all this? How are they sourcing mermaid scales?" Rachel asked.
"Mirabel and Liesel are responsible for keeping the storeroom stocked. The Department has special dispensation to purchase ingredients that otherwise are not made available. As to where they purchase them, who knows? Much of the Department functions on a need to know basis, at least when dealing with things that aren't quite legal otherwise," Cyril told her. "The Department does have its own apothecary farm and greenhouses in Devon. I'm sure Mirabel could let you go visit, if you wanted to."
"I didn't realize the Department had herbologists or places offsite," she said, though she supposed she ought to have intuited that.
"Eh, we have just about every specialty here and I suspect we have more offsite spaces than even I know about," he said with a shrug.
"I think it's funny that everyone I encounter thinks the Unspeakables are so dangerous and scary. Everyone I have met is very friendly." Rachel looked over her list to make sure she had everything. She'd go claim a space, then collect the cauldrons and brewing equipment she needed.
"You're still very new. Not everyone is friendly. And some of our work can be very dangerous," Cyril said. "Those projects tend to be highly classified."
She supposed that was probably true. "People are easier to get along with here than in the Wizengamot."
He laughed. "I don't know that it is much of a surprise. Our agenda here all tends to be the same thing - furthering the bounds of understanding and what is possible with magic. I would assume everyone in the Wizengamot has different agendas."
"Unfortunately, most of their agendas seem to be acquiring power for personal gain," she said with a frown. "Everyone is concerned with being re-elected and whose faction has the most seats and where they stand in the hierarchy."
"But you are above those concerns?" he asked as they set down their ingredients on a work table in a brewing room.
"Hardly. I worked very hard to make sure my faction has the ability to block legislation that I do not want to pass. I've joined with others to ensure certain people are re-elected, or even to make sure they were not re-elected," she admitted, leading the way back out of the room so they could collect equipment.
"One would think, given who you are, you could do just about anything you wished," Cyril said, not quite making it a question.
"I haven't found that to be the case at all, at least not in the Wizengamot. I've had an extended fight to get each of my proposals to pass and there are still things that even I can't get passed." She was determined that her House Elf proposal was not one of those things. She would get it passed.
"If you could change something big, what would you change?" he asked.
Rachel selected a glass cauldron and a steel cauldron, passing the glass one to Cyril before she picked up a smaller pewter cauldron. "I'd get people to see that muggles and muggleborns are not our enemies. That we're not really different. That our differences are really just superficial and that there is nothing wrong with having a difficult culture. Human is human is human," she said, collecting a box of empty vials. Everything else she needed was already in the workroom.
Cyril was quiet as they walked back to the workroom. "You really believe that?"
"Yes. I do," she said firmly, wondering if she'd managed to offend him.
"I wonder if anyone has studied that," he said after another minute or so.
Rachel began arranging her equipment and ingredients for the first potion. "What do you mean?"
"Well. Has anyone checked how different muggles are from us?" Cyril asked.
"In what way? Obviously you don't mean culturally," she pressed.
"No, not culturally. Biologically."
"What differences are you expecting to find?" she asked, glancing at him. "The only difference is that we can do magic and they can't."
"But there must be a reason for that. And mustn't that reason be biological?" he asked.
Rachel pondered this for a moment as she worked. "Our blood is magical, which means our bone marrow must be as well. But I don't know if having magical bone marrow is what makes us magical or if it's something else. I don't know how you'd study such a thing. As far as I know, magical bone marrow isn't in use for anything."
"Which is an interesting absence on its own. We use hair, skin, tears, and blood; why not bone marrow? Surely that would be extremely potent."
Finishing double checking that she had everything she needed for her first potion, she nodded to herself. "It probably would be, but I don't know where you're going to get an ethical donor."
"Well, I'd use my own, of course. Most potioneers use their own bodily fluids when a potion calls for them," Cyril said with a shrug.
"Okay, how are you planning to get your own bone marrow? It's not exactly pricking your finger for a drop of blood," she said, raising her eyebrows at him
"There has to be a spell for that. And if not, I'm sure someone could invent one," he said, seeming unbothered.
Rachel didn't know about that. It seemed potentially problematic to her. She took a vial from her robe pocket and drank it, ready to turn her thoughts towards brewing.
"What was that? Some sort of sensory enhancing potion?" Cyril asked.
"Tremor Easing potion," she said, holding her hands out. They waited and watched as the visible tremor in her hands stopped over the course of the next three minutes.
"A potion of your own devising?"
"Yes," she said, moving to put water in her cauldron so she could bring it to a boil.
"How long does it last?" he asked.
"Four hours, so let's get to work," Rachel said, passing him a stone mortar and pestle.
They settled into the familiar motions of brewing, Rachel content to work in silence as they contemplated and observed.
"I assume you saw the paper?" Rachel asked upon finding Severus in his home office on Sunday evening.
"You assume correctly," he said, glancing up briefly from his work. "Has the MLE had anything to say about the matter?"
She sighed and sunk down into the chair opposite him. "Nothing new. This time it was a muggleborn, a half-blood, and their two year old daughter. Wards were taken down in the night. They didn't stand a chance."
Severus was quiet for a long moment. "I don't want to be alarmist, but have you and Theo given thoughts to going under the Fidelius charm?"
"I should be the last person these Death Eaters want to encounter," she said with a shake of her head.
"I wouldn't say that. You're probably at the top of their list."
"At the top in terms of people they would like gone, sure. But in terms of people they can actually do something about, I'm the last person they should want to fight," she pointed out, raising her eyebrows at him. "People are aware that I have trained in elemental magic."
"All the better for them to take down your wards and murder you in your sleep," Severus said grimly.
"In order for them to do that, I would have to go to sleep first."
"When was the last time you slept?" he asked, now frowning outright at her.
"I'm getting a few hours here and there. It's not like I'm purposefully staying awake; I just can't get to sleep."
"Perhaps being under the Fidelius charm would allow you to sleep," he tried.
"I have my doubts." Sleep had never been easy for her. If she wasn't plagued by nightmares, she was plagued by insomnia.
"Then what is keeping you awake?"
Rachel shook her head. "Isn't that a list. I don't think this is a problem that can be solved. Though I did just brew a bunch of new sleeping potions and none of them exploded or were corrosive. We'll see how they do in tests. This is my first time submitting work to the Unspeakables Review Committee, so I'm not entirely sure how it's going to go."
"I hardly think they can object to a simple sleeping potion that's comparable to what is on the market currently," he said. "Do you think they're going to object?"
"I can't see a reason for them to object, but people will object to the stupidest things. You would not believe the number of conversations I've had about House Elves and whether or not they should be considered beings with rights over the past few weeks." She shook her head again, feeling a burst of latent frustration.
"I can imagine. Do you believe you will bring your proposal to vote?"
"I will bring this proposal to vote, no matter what it takes. I can't be seen backing down from it now. And more importantly, it's the right thing to do," Rachel insisted.
Severus looked concerned as he laced his fingers together and rested his hands on his desk. "I always did worry that you would run into this problem in the Wizengamot. People do not see the world through the same lens that you do."
She bit back her initial response that they should. "If I'm not using my position on the Wizengamot to advocate for wrongs being righted, then I'm not doing my job."
"Perhaps. But you are also not doing anyone any favors driving yourself into the ground by doing so. I had hoped you'd learned this lesson a few years ago when you were struggling so. I know neither of us want a repeat of that situation," he said, managing to keep his tone neutral.
The problem was, she knew he was right. She did not want to have another nervous breakdown and not sleeping was a good push along the way there. "I will take a break as soon as this proposal is through. Theo and I are talking about taking a holiday."
"Good. I think that would be good for both of you." Severus gave an approving nod. "Back to the subject at hand. Is there a reason you don't want to go under the Fidelius?"
Rachel sighed. "Because I'm using my home to hold dinners with people that I'm trying to convince to vote for my proposals. People are more pliable if I give them dinner and wine. When I am done, I will go under the Fidelius charm until this emergency has passed."
"How long will that take?" he asked.
"As long as it takes. I honestly believe that the Death Eaters would have to be crazy to seek me out. Nothing suggests that they are anywhere near as powerful as I am and when I did my elemental training I could easily hold ten to fifteen people in battle."
"I don't believe that we should count on the mental stability and threat assessment of whoever this is. Many people have tried to kill you over the years. Some of them have nearly succeeded." Severus tipped his head slightly, still watching her closely.
She didn't point out that the Dark Lord had succeeded at killing her. That didn't count; she'd let him. And besides, she'd recovered just fine. Dying was far from the most traumatic thing to have happened to her. "If anything, they should be worried that the MLE is going to send me after them."
His frown deepened. "Is that on the table?"
"Neither Amelia nor Rufus want that, but if this goes on much longer I might insist."
"I would strongly prefer that you were not seeking out Death Eaters. Again."
"And I would strongly prefer that they stop murdering families. If I can stop them, I will." She saw his expression moving from concern to frustration. "It's probably not going to happen. In order for me to do that, I'd have to know where they were going to show up. So far the MLE has not had any success in predicting their targets. So don't worry too much about it."
"I will always worry. You're my child. That's part of the job," he said, though his expression eased a little.
"Even when your child is the most powerful person in the nation?" she asked.
"Especially when my child is the most powerful person in the nation," Severus said, meeting her eyes. "Would you and Theo accept me as your secret keeper?"
"I wouldn't have anyone else," she told him honestly. "Did you want me to cook?"
"No. Dinner is in the oven. It will be ready in about twenty minutes. Tell me about your new potions," he said, settling back in his chair.
Rachel relaxed a little. Theorizing about potions was both familiar and comfortable. Besides, she valued his insights.
Rachel sat with Theo, her team and friends scattered around them, watching the game between Hufflepuff and Gryffindor. Ginny was in top form today and was giving Cedric a run for his money.
Theo had Scorpius on his lap and Draco and Astoria were to his right, with Cygnus' head tipped back against Astoria's chest while he watched the game.
"How is your shoulder feeling?" Theo asked.
"Good," Rachel said, watching Angelina and Katie fly in for a pincer move.
"Good?" he prompted.
"Good," she repeated. "I'm not anticipating any problems."
"Viola is here. She could stand in for you if you needed her to," Theo continued, getting a glance from Draco.
"I don't need Viola to stand in for me. I'm fine to play," she insisted.
"Just don't do anything reckless and you'll be fine," Draco said.
"When have you known me to be reckless?" Rachel asked innocently.
Astoria burst out laughing at Theo and Draco's expressions and Rachel managed to keep herself at a neutral half smile.
Scorpius wiggled around on Theo's lap. "What's funny?"
"Not your godmother, that's for sure," Theo said, giving her a look.
Rachel didn't know about that. She appreciated her sense of humor, even if no one else did.
"That's Cedric Diggory and Ginny Weasley moving in for the snitch," Lee Jordan announced.
She refocused on the game, watching as Cedric and Ginny flew toward the goals on the Gryffindor side. Ron was waving enthusiastically from the goal as the Beaters moved to intervene. Now that Rachel knew where to look, she could see the distant glimmer of the Snitch.
Cedric was forced to dodge a Bludger sent by either Fred or George - no one could tell them apart at this distance - and Ginny swooped in and held the Snitch up in the air.
"That's Gryffindor for the win, 220 to 130," Lee Jordan announced, sounding pleased that his House had won.
"That's us then," Draco said as he stood.
Rachel stood and collected her broom from where she'd set it next to her. She gave her shoulders an experimental roll, but they both felt fine. She couldn't even tell she'd had the procedure any more.
"Be safe. Please," Theo said, standing and putting a hand on her forearm.
"I will. Quidditch is hardly the most dangerous thing I do," she told him.
"You understand why that isn't particularly comforting?" he asked.
"I'll be alright," she promised, patting his hand.
"Are you going to win?" Scorpius asked.
"You bet we are," Draco said.
"Catch the Snitch," Scorpius said, looking at her now.
"I'll do my best," she told him, smoothing his hair before following Draco out of the seating area.
They flew down to the pitch where four teams were intermingling - the Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs finishing up and the Slytherins and Ravenclaws gathering.
"Great catch," Rachel called to Ginny.
She grinned and waved at them. "Good luck!"
Rachel smiled and moved to gather up with her team. It had been a while since she'd done more than carefully putter around her garden on her broom. She hoped she was up to the task.
Imogen and Scarlett were their Beaters for this match. Draco, Adrian, and Martin were their Chasers. Miles had the goal. Now that they were all adults she was dwarfed by all of them, though she remembered being the smallest one on the pitch in school as well.
"Welcome back, everyone," she said, feeling a strange nostalgia for her school days. She didn't miss much about going to Hogwarts, it had been a stressful and sometimes traumatic time in her life, but she did miss the closeness of the Quidditch teams.
"Ready to kick some Ravenclaw ass, as usual," Scarlett said, looking a little bloodthirsty.
"I'm not expecting any problems there. You all know what to do," Rachel said, getting nods and grins in return.
"Just like in school," Draco said, glancing at his Chasers. "Keep the formations tight and we have nothing to worry about."
"Let's get to it," she said, seeing the Ravenclaws forming up mid-pitch.
They joined the Ravenclaws, filling out their V-formation just as they did at school with Rachel at the front. It felt good to be captain again.
"Good luck," Rachel said to Cho, offering her a hand.
"You too," Cho said, giving her a smile as they shook hands.
They took their places and mounted their brooms, Rachel feeling the spring wind teasing her hair. At the sound of the whistle the two teams shot up into the air.
She went high, taking a good look around the pitch as the game began beneath her. The sounds of a game in progress were very familiar and she half listened to the commentary as she got to work Seeking. It felt good to be in the air again and her shoulder wasn't bothering her at all. She began a crosshatch search pattern, keeping an ear out for Cho or the Bludgers.
The game continued in the usual back and forth of the Quaffle. Rachel kept half an eye on her team, but she knew they all knew what they were doing. The scores slowly climbed, Slytherin at 180 and Ravenclaw at 110, when Rachel saw the Snitch.
She took off, knowing her broom as well as she knew her own body. Cho joined her moments later and they flew in freefall as the Snitch dove. Rachel grinned to herself. There was always a certain thrill to this that she didn't think anyone but a Quidditch player would understand.
They leveled out near the grass and began to rise again. The Snitch led them on a chase through the Chasers, Rachel flattening herself against her broom and then speeding up once they were through. They headed back in the direction of the goals, this time on the Ravenclaw side, and Rachel got a brief look at Grant Page in the goals before she darted by and swung up to catch the Snitch.
She held it up triumphantly, pleased to have caught it, but also a little disappointed that the chase was over.
Cho came to a stop nearby. "Nearly," she said, brushing her hair away from her face.
"Good game," Rachel called to her.
"Good game," Cho called back, circling around to rejoin her team.
Rachel headed back in the direction of her team, feeling a happiness that had been very fleeting lately. She needed to fly more, she decided. Maybe she'd talk to Anyssa about going on a broom race sometime in the near future.
She landed among the team congratulating each other, smiling and accepting their congratulations on the catch. It was good to be with everyone again.