Maybe it's enough to feel like this
June 22nd, 1888 - a box in Puddlemere United Stadium
With several professional Quidditch teams somewhat kneecapped by the fog in Hogsmeade and Irvingly - especially this one, if Hogsmeade didn't catch the snitch early they were fucked - these games were a little less interesting to watch. That he was here was rather incidental, it had just sort of happened, but there was an assortment of other purebloods of the same-ish age in the box. He sighed and watched through the box, wincing in sympathy as a bludger slammed into one of the reserve Howlers in front of him.
This cringing motion brought her into his sightline. Perhaps on automatic, Cash waved for Miss Abercrombie to come over. "Glad to see you're not stuck in the fog," he said, quirking an eyebrow upwards at her. He hated this; hated trying to trap her into a marriage that she could not possibly understand. But he couldn't stop, either.
This cringing motion brought her into his sightline. Perhaps on automatic, Cash waved for Miss Abercrombie to come over. "Glad to see you're not stuck in the fog," he said, quirking an eyebrow upwards at her. He hated this; hated trying to trap her into a marriage that she could not possibly understand. But he couldn't stop, either.
MJ made this!