Rain starts play.
Title: Rain starts play
Word Count: 526
Rating: BBFC 12A
Warnings: Cricket. And Boycs. And TMS (and cakes). And Aggers. And Broady and Jimmy.
Summary: Draco doesn’t get Muggle sport, and why rain stops play.
Author’s notes: Oh, I’m not one for long notes….
‘Potter, why are you listening to the Muggle wireless?’
Harry wasn’t precisely notorious for grasping subtext, but he knew his Draco well enough to know that the actual question was, ‘Why aren’t you paying attention to me?’ - as was generally the case.
‘It’s TMS, Draco.’
‘It’s absurd, Harry. Muggles must be very delicate: Quidditch doesn’t stop play just for a bit of rain. Commentators rabbiting on about cakes…. Of course it’s raining, it’s April in England, if they can’t bear a shower or two they oughtn’t to start their season in April -’
Aggers’ tones came over the wireless just then, warmly reassuring. ‘And they’re taking the covers off at last here at Old Trafford. The faithful who’ve stayed on in this cold and wet have their reward, really. Although I must say, it still looks rather threatening, the sky over the pavilion end; and more threatening still for the home supporters here at Old Trafford, with Notts in a position that wants a stern chase from Lancashire to preserve a draw - and with the top order gone already, leaving Jimmy Anderson now partnered with AG Prince to face the bowling. Stuart Broad’s having taken three wickets in ten deliveries in this second innings, before the rains set in, has overshadowed his England team-mate’s assault on the Nottinghamshire middle order….’
‘Right,’ said Harry, with decision. ‘Get some kit on and be ready for a side-along.’
Draco was yet protesting when they came out of their Apparating at Old Trafford. Harry silenced him - with a look, not a spell - and snaffled up two tickets: the weather on this third day had kept not a few people away, and more had left during the drenching.
Once ensconced in seats, Harry and Draco were able to talk freely - due to a crafty Muffliato. ‘I’ve a lot of reasons to love cricket,’ said Harry. ‘That, by the way, is Broady.’
‘Oh. Jammy sod: he looks rather like me. I hope he knows how lucky he is, to do. And the titchy dark one he’s pelting with red-coloured bludgers?’
‘Jimmy Anderson - he’s batting at number four, but he’s best known as a bowler, really, and a damned good one, it’s the only thing that’s keeping Lancs from an innings defeat already: bowling, by the way, is what Broady’s doing -’
At that point, the heavens opened again, guaranteeing a drawn match, and the players dashed off the pitch as the rain lanced down.
‘But - why aren’t they playing? You and I played through all sorts of weather! Why, in our day -’
‘Don’t sound like Boycs, Draco. Please.’
‘Who? No - don’t try to change the subject. I wanted to see more of - Anderson, was it? Small, dark, and scruffy? Looks rather like you? It’s absurd they’ll not play in the wet.’
‘Why “absurd”? They’d -’
‘Harry. They’d get wet. Jimmy and your Broady and all. In those whites, soaking, clinging -’
Harry all but dragged Draco to a dark corner and Apparated them home with a resounding pop.
A few hours later, as the rains, streaming, had reached even unto Grimmauld Place, Draco, drowsing, heard Harry mutter, ‘Evidently, rain starts play’.
___________________________
A nigglingly academic note: the match is of course not a Test match, and Harry ought to have called its broadcast on 5 Live properly. This imprecision is however all too common, and broadcasts of the opening day matches of the County season, with the premier commentators taking part, are increasingly thus confused for TMS by the casual.
Word Count: 526
Rating: BBFC 12A
Warnings: Cricket. And Boycs. And TMS (and cakes). And Aggers. And Broady and Jimmy.
Summary: Draco doesn’t get Muggle sport, and why rain stops play.
Author’s notes: Oh, I’m not one for long notes….
‘Potter, why are you listening to the Muggle wireless?’
Harry wasn’t precisely notorious for grasping subtext, but he knew his Draco well enough to know that the actual question was, ‘Why aren’t you paying attention to me?’ - as was generally the case.
‘It’s TMS, Draco.’
‘It’s absurd, Harry. Muggles must be very delicate: Quidditch doesn’t stop play just for a bit of rain. Commentators rabbiting on about cakes…. Of course it’s raining, it’s April in England, if they can’t bear a shower or two they oughtn’t to start their season in April -’
Aggers’ tones came over the wireless just then, warmly reassuring. ‘And they’re taking the covers off at last here at Old Trafford. The faithful who’ve stayed on in this cold and wet have their reward, really. Although I must say, it still looks rather threatening, the sky over the pavilion end; and more threatening still for the home supporters here at Old Trafford, with Notts in a position that wants a stern chase from Lancashire to preserve a draw - and with the top order gone already, leaving Jimmy Anderson now partnered with AG Prince to face the bowling. Stuart Broad’s having taken three wickets in ten deliveries in this second innings, before the rains set in, has overshadowed his England team-mate’s assault on the Nottinghamshire middle order….’
‘Right,’ said Harry, with decision. ‘Get some kit on and be ready for a side-along.’
Draco was yet protesting when they came out of their Apparating at Old Trafford. Harry silenced him - with a look, not a spell - and snaffled up two tickets: the weather on this third day had kept not a few people away, and more had left during the drenching.
Once ensconced in seats, Harry and Draco were able to talk freely - due to a crafty Muffliato. ‘I’ve a lot of reasons to love cricket,’ said Harry. ‘That, by the way, is Broady.’
‘Oh. Jammy sod: he looks rather like me. I hope he knows how lucky he is, to do. And the titchy dark one he’s pelting with red-coloured bludgers?’
‘Jimmy Anderson - he’s batting at number four, but he’s best known as a bowler, really, and a damned good one, it’s the only thing that’s keeping Lancs from an innings defeat already: bowling, by the way, is what Broady’s doing -’
At that point, the heavens opened again, guaranteeing a drawn match, and the players dashed off the pitch as the rain lanced down.
‘But - why aren’t they playing? You and I played through all sorts of weather! Why, in our day -’
‘Don’t sound like Boycs, Draco. Please.’
‘Who? No - don’t try to change the subject. I wanted to see more of - Anderson, was it? Small, dark, and scruffy? Looks rather like you? It’s absurd they’ll not play in the wet.’
‘Why “absurd”? They’d -’
‘Harry. They’d get wet. Jimmy and your Broady and all. In those whites, soaking, clinging -’
Harry all but dragged Draco to a dark corner and Apparated them home with a resounding pop.
A few hours later, as the rains, streaming, had reached even unto Grimmauld Place, Draco, drowsing, heard Harry mutter, ‘Evidently, rain starts play’.
___________________________
A nigglingly academic note: the match is of course not a Test match, and Harry ought to have called its broadcast on 5 Live properly. This imprecision is however all too common, and broadcasts of the opening day matches of the County season, with the premier commentators taking part, are increasingly thus confused for TMS by the casual.