The dedicated effort Melody had put into learning quidditch came to as abrupt an end as Ethel Turnbull's life. She knew she despised the violent aspect of the game before spending the better part of the summer studying the sport, but after witnessing the results of another rogue bludger she was done. Finished. Anyone who chose to partake in a sport with such potentially gruesome results was bloody insane as far as she was concerned. Surely, Arthur would quit the sport now? He couldn't very well justify continuing to play with a wife and two children.

Surely, Ben wouldn't think of continuing to support the sport.

Melody knew he was avoiding her, just as she was quietly dodging him. It was almost as though they had suddenly reverted back to their April relationship. Back when things were tense and awkward and there was no such thing as intimacy. It wasn't quite that bad, of course, but the thought was there all the same. Those patterns would be easy to slip back into if they weren't careful, given how little they chose to interact even still.

Unsurprisingly, Ben was the one to break the silence, as was their way. Melody had just finished undressing for the day, but had yet to plait her hair. Thick curls framed her face as she turned on her vanity's seat. "I suppose?" She answered, unsure of what answer he was expecting. Melody couldn't think of Ethel without wanting to vomit, but that was a fairly obvious conclusion given her fainting spell. "Are you?"