The Chasers Heart, Part 2

Year 6: The Letter

November came and went, Skye's Quidditch practises were positively brutal compared to what Orion would have put us through. We ran laps before and after every practise, dodged what felt like hundred of Bludgers and even did strength training to improve our shooting distance and accuracy.

Harmony Goodman was our newest Chaser and had now replaced me as the youngest member of the team, being in her fourth-year. I was a bit shocked that Skye had chosen someone so young, but Harmony was good enough at the basics and turned out to be fairly easy to mold into the Quidditch player Skye wanted her to me. We absolutely flattened Hufflepuff at our first match of the season, Andre Egwu, our old reserve Seeker now on the main team, managed to snag the Snitch from right under Diggory's nose while we were already winning by 120 points.

I felt unstoppable. Now all I had to focus on were my lessons and Quidditch. And Murphy, when he had time from his lessons and Head Boy duties.

To both of our utter astonishment, Jerod proposed to his mum and they had a very small wedding over Christmas. Murphy made me come with him, already a ball of anxiety over his mum getting married again and even worse when she told him she wanted him to give her away.

He made me come with him, I would have come without being coerced, though. It was a very small, simple ceremony at Murphy's home, which I'd never been to before. Very informal, his mum wore a navy skirt suit and Jerod's dress robes weren't very formal. His two sons were also there, the older with his wife and the younger with a girlfriend. Things seemed a bit awkward at first between the three new step-siblings, but warmed up considerably after a bit of champagne and firewhiskey. And after the excitement and quickness of Mrs McNully's new relationship, Murphy settled in and kept informing me that he was just glad to see his mother so happy.

'I'm just saying, there will be more injuries before the final,' Skye was saying at breakfast one morning in February. We were only a week away from our match against Slytherin and Skye was reminding Harmony and I about all of the injuries Gryffindor had sustained during their match against Slytherin in November.

'We're quicker than Gryffindor,' I assured her. 'We've also had to chance to watch them play.'

'They've been able to watch us play, too,' Skye countered. 'We can't afford any injuries this year.'

She was looking at me and I knew she was referring to my two-hundred foot fall two years before during our match again Slytherin.

'I've got a better broom this year,' I assured her. 'Also, that was two years ago. It's not going to happen again.'

'See that it doesn't,' she nodded curtly and took a vicious bite of toast.

The post arrived, sparing me from having to say anything further. However, an owl I didn't recognize landed in front of me with a letter attached to its leg.

It was addressed to me. Eleonora Knight, The Great Hall, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Odd. Curious, I untied the envelope and opened the letter.

Even more curious, the letter was written in Norwegian, but it wasn't my mother's writing or any relative that I recognized.

Dear Ms. Eleonora Knight,

We, of the Norwegian Quidditch Association, do invite you to join the Norwegian National Quidditch Team as Chaser for the 1990 Quidditch World Cup.

I spat out my tea.

'What?' Skye asked, reaching over and snatching the letter from me. 'Blimey, what is this? Who's writing to you in a foreign language?'

'Has someone died?' Harmony asked quietly.

'N-no,' I stammered. 'Give it back!'

I snatched the parchment back from Skye.