Harpies Vs Cannons, second string
Date: August 8, 2000
Time: Afternoon
Location: Yorkshire Quidditch Pitch
Characters Involved: Tonks and Charlie
Rating: PG-13
“I bet people are looking at us all funny-like.” Tonks muttered under her breath to Charlie, as she stole a glance at his attire, and then at hers. “One of us- hell both of us are being called a traitor by the opposing sides.”
Her eyes lifted up to look at Charlie’s face, before glancing beyond him to the many spectators gathered. A familiar green and yellow assortment decorated the scene behind him. Tonks had seen the same behind her, witches and wizards accessorized in a familiar orange. There were occasional mixes on each side of the Quidditch stands, but fans usually huddled together. Tonks and Charlie just happened to be grouped wrong. It made Tonks chuckle.
The crowds were anxious, as the seats filled, lots of verbal exclamations and chaotic sounds surrounded the two of them. Tonks couldn’t remember the last time she was at a match, so she kept recalling the times at school when she watched the games. But at those events she had watched Charlie play, and it felt odd to her that he was sitting right beside her instead, now.
Her eyes started to take in all the sights, hoping to memorize this event better than her last. Soon it would begin, and then end, so she planned to make the most of it. Hopefully so would the Harpies.
It was a beautiful and warm experience, somewhat ideal for a match. Though if it got any warmer, Tonks’ long and flowing green hair would make her neck sweat for certain. Thankfully Tonks had a Harpies tee, so she was pretty comfortable and perfectly adorned to support her team. Changing her hair would not have been enough support.
“Oi! Over here!” Tonks suddenly called out, while standing up from her seat beside Charlie. In her scan of the area, she found a bloke serving cold drinks and things. Where the seats curved, and aligned around the pitch, there were decent aisles every few feet. Tonks filtered and tripped to her nearest isle, met the man and traded coin for drinks, and then made it back to her seat in an awkward stumble, stepping on a few toes as if it was required.
Her hand reached over and dropped one bottle of butterbeer onto Charlie’s lap, and then sat down.
“Next round is yours.” She said with a smile, while she glanced at him. It was obvious she was waiting for a remark, something about the choice of beverage.
Time: Afternoon
Location: Yorkshire Quidditch Pitch
Characters Involved: Tonks and Charlie
Rating: PG-13
“I bet people are looking at us all funny-like.” Tonks muttered under her breath to Charlie, as she stole a glance at his attire, and then at hers. “One of us- hell both of us are being called a traitor by the opposing sides.”
Her eyes lifted up to look at Charlie’s face, before glancing beyond him to the many spectators gathered. A familiar green and yellow assortment decorated the scene behind him. Tonks had seen the same behind her, witches and wizards accessorized in a familiar orange. There were occasional mixes on each side of the Quidditch stands, but fans usually huddled together. Tonks and Charlie just happened to be grouped wrong. It made Tonks chuckle.
The crowds were anxious, as the seats filled, lots of verbal exclamations and chaotic sounds surrounded the two of them. Tonks couldn’t remember the last time she was at a match, so she kept recalling the times at school when she watched the games. But at those events she had watched Charlie play, and it felt odd to her that he was sitting right beside her instead, now.
Her eyes started to take in all the sights, hoping to memorize this event better than her last. Soon it would begin, and then end, so she planned to make the most of it. Hopefully so would the Harpies.
It was a beautiful and warm experience, somewhat ideal for a match. Though if it got any warmer, Tonks’ long and flowing green hair would make her neck sweat for certain. Thankfully Tonks had a Harpies tee, so she was pretty comfortable and perfectly adorned to support her team. Changing her hair would not have been enough support.
“Oi! Over here!” Tonks suddenly called out, while standing up from her seat beside Charlie. In her scan of the area, she found a bloke serving cold drinks and things. Where the seats curved, and aligned around the pitch, there were decent aisles every few feet. Tonks filtered and tripped to her nearest isle, met the man and traded coin for drinks, and then made it back to her seat in an awkward stumble, stepping on a few toes as if it was required.
Her hand reached over and dropped one bottle of butterbeer onto Charlie’s lap, and then sat down.
“Next round is yours.” She said with a smile, while she glanced at him. It was obvious she was waiting for a remark, something about the choice of beverage.