The Firebolt was a completely different beast from the Nimbus 2001 she rode at school. It’s not that the Nimbus wasn’t fast. It’s that the Firebolt isn’t trying to keep you alive, and that’s the main difference. The Firebolt will happily keep accelerating or cornering hard until you can no longer breathe, until you can’t see, until you pass out, and until you die. It has no safety features. It’s made for the professionals, and the assumption is that you know what you’re doing. She yearned for that at school, when Harry had it. She wondered if she could match him if she had it, but father said no. It’s unsafe, he said. She was fuming, but his word was final.

He was right. She had it now, and she gave it a proper spin, because she thought she knew what she was doing. As it proved, she was wrong. She watched Viktor and Harry perform insane manoeuvres trying to outwit each other, and she could barely follow. They were truly in a league of their own. She, on the other hand, was… wet.

It was a gloomy day, with something between fog and rain hanging in the air, and it was cold. She was freezing, she was wet, and it felt nothing like she imagined. She imagined the sense of freedom, power and flight she remembered from childhood. Now, she was just wet, cold and missed her four babies.

The golden snitch appeared right in front of her, and on reflex, she accelerated instantly and caught it in a blink of an eye. Yes, the Firebolt is amazing for that kind of stuff, she thought. Good for the boys, but I think I prefer just walking, running or playing hide-and-seek in the practice polygon. Doing risky things that could have her break her neck while babies are waiting for her at home and someone else is having fun with them… Am I getting old? Perhaps, but I like it that way, she thought as she accelerated to meet the guys. “Good game”, she smiled, showing them the snitch. “Let’s go home, I’m frozen on my broom and wet all the way through”.

They stopped and looked at each other. “That’s not possible!” “She cheated!”

“Yeah yeah, tell me more about it over hot tea”, she snickered. “Victory for Slytherin”.

…

“How?”, they just looked at her.

“I was cold, wet, bored, done with it and missing my four babies, waiting for one of you to catch it and put me out of my misery, when the snitch stopped right in front of me and I caught it on reflex”, she smiled. “And thank heavens for that. Weren’t you two cold and wet? We were in the same rain cloud, as far as I could tell”.

“We were, but we just ignore that”, Viktor replied and Harry nodded.

“You know, I thought I’d feel like a bird that’s been let out of the cage out there on the broom, but it was nothing like that. I tried it out for a few minutes, liked how fast it is, but I didn’t feel like doing anything risky because I had babies at home and I missed them, and soon I was just… wet and miserable”, she shrugged. “I think I got properly domesticated”.

“I think it’s something else”, Hermione smiled.

“What?”

“Sure, you did it for the thrill of it, but you mostly did it because it was a way of sharing a part of your life with Harry, when you weren’t talking”, she grinned wisely. “It was a way to participate in your chosen life. Now, you have your chosen life, and Quidditch is just being cold, wet, and injured”, she finished.

“You hate flying, so you’re hardly impartial”, her husband pointed out.

“She also might be right”, Lyra pointed out. “The best thing about Quidditch was doing something with Harry, something physical enough that I could both touch him and vent my frustrations with him by hammering him into a wall, or having him grab me and pull me off my broom. Later, as we started talking, it became something we bonded over – mostly comforted each other after our respective losses, and it felt like, well, a part of what we have now. But now, I don’t have any frustrations to vent, and Quidditch is just the other stuff – injuries, being rained on, flying into a seagull, and so on. It’s good that I tried it, but I might have grown out of it”.

“You know what’s the best part of it for me?”, Hermione grinned. “You always say four babies”.

Lyra stopped to think about it. “True. That’s how I feel about them. Don’t you?”

“I do”, Hermione nodded, “But it feels wonderful to hear you say it”, she smiled.

“One big reason why I’m always trying to make more money is that I have four children already and they will need dowries and homes and money, and we’re nowhere near done having babies”, she smiled. “If you think they will get neglected merely because they came out of your womb, you don’t know me very well”.

Hermione just hugged her.