July 31st, 1890 — IQL Dance & Dinner, Destiny Hotel, London
Beckett Longbottom

Helga had spent much of the evening seated next to Mr. Felix Prewett under the watchful eye of his mother, leading Helga to the conclusion that Mrs. Prewett was more fond of her than she could have ever hoped. It had only been by chance that she was introduced to the socialite, and now Helga was more certain than ever that she would be married by next summer. (If she could not find a match with Mrs. Prewett's acquaintanceship, she was certain she would die an old maid.)

After dinner was spent chatting with her sister, whose involvement with quidditch league went beyond a courtesy invitation to the dinner and dance. She accompanied a gentleman to the dance floor, and soon after she found herself awkwardly shuffling towards the refreshments table with an ache in her left ankle. She'd never know why taller gentlemen felt the need to fling her about! Perhaps she should stick to line dances in the near future.

She was within reach of the table when her ankle finally gave out on her, causing her to tip sideways. She let out a gasp and braced herself, only for an unexpected arm to steady her. She glanced up, and her wide eyes softened almost immediately.

"Your timing is impeccable as always," she said, her cheeks flushing pink.

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— set by MJ! <3 —

Now here was an event Beckett could get fully behind. He was a social guy, his life revolved around events and people pleasing, schmoozing and flirting, but when the event did not involve quidditch he was not as invested as he should have been. Fortunately his mother seemed pleased she did not have to physically drag him into the building this evening and he was quick to find some friends to chat and drink with.

It was of course a ball of sorts as well and he took a few turns on the dance floor with some young ladies he was sure his mother had his eye on as their names had come up a time or two in the days leading up to tonight. It left him parched and so he went in search of a stiff drink. More impressively (and amusing!) what he found was his perpetual Damsel in Distress, Miss Scamander.

She toppled and Beckett instinctively reached out to steady her, one arm catching hers and another wrapping gently around her waist. "Ankle still giving you trouble?" He mused aloud, though was genuinely concerned, as he straightened up to steady her.

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RIP Bee for she has died by Stef!set

She might have been pleased by the sudden contact, if not for the throbbing pain in her ankle. It seemed she was failing at subtlety (unless Mr. Longbottom had really been that observant before?) because he seemed to pick up on her limping. She tried to straighten up, too, pitting one hand on the table’s edge and allowing Mr. Longbottom to support the other.

“I admit it’s not been the same since that day,” she replied, dropping her gaze demurely. Surely she could reap some benefits from her suffering! “It usually causes little trouble, but your cousin was very... enthusiastic on the dance floor,” she added, her blush deepening and she glanced up at him.

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   Elladora Black

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— set by MJ! <3 —

Well then, poor Miss Scamander had not escaped unscathed after all. He was not typically one to seek immediate help for an injury, unless severe, but he wondered if she had seen a healer at all about it. "Not exactly what I would have a young lady remember me by," He teased lightly, leading the way, slowly, to a nearby table so she could take a seat and rest.

Laughing in earnest, Beckett scanned the room at large to see which of his relations was actually in attendance this evening. "Now see, that would explain it, except I have more cousins than I can count, so you may need to be a little more specific." The reality of his status and station in life- not to mention everyone in the extended family seemed to have several children each and his generation was not small by any means.

"Why don't you rest for a moment or two and I'll grab you something to drink, champagne?" He offered, though had no idea what proper young ladies really liked to drink, but most often saw champagne flutes in their hands, so thought it a safe choice.

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RIP Bee for she has died by Stef!set

Helga gripped his arm, loosened it as not to seem too aggressive, and then immediately tightened her grip when she realized the pain was more serve than she'd thought. Could she have re-injured it? She hoped not; the evening had only recently begun! Once seated, she smiled up at him with her wide, toothy grin, only shifting it to closed-mouth smile upon realizing that she was supposed to be being charming, not herself!

"I only remember you for your heroism," she promised with a bit of dramatic flair, hoping he would not think her too silly. It wasn't as if she was lying. If he hadn't pulled her from the hole, she'd likely have sustained greater damage than a twisted ankle. (How far would she have gone to get loose? How rough would another person—man or woman—have been with her?)

She only then realized that her comment about his cousin might be taken as an insult if it was one that he was particularly fond of. Helga was not particularly close with any of her cousins*, but she'd be offended if someone insinuated that their dancing was less than perfect. "If I'm honest"—which she was, always, obviously—"I should have taken a break between dances. Your cousin, Mr. Frederick Prewett, was only keeping up with the others. I'm afriad I began struggling to keep up," she admitted. Embarrassing, yes, but causing offense was worse than a damaged pride!

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— set by MJ! <3 —

Beckett pursed his lips in amusement. Miss Scamander never failed to amuse him, even if she was always finding herself in precarious situations or in need of assistance. Not that Becks specifically minded playing the knight in shining armor, but he would be remiss if he didn't wish Miss Scamander had better luck.

"Ay yes, Frederick." Becks had almost called him Freddie, which was what family called him, or maybe it was Becks teasing his younger cousin, but he was amused to hear Miss Scamander give him away so willingly. "Ah well, you can rest now." He assumed anyway. The dance cards this evening did not seem to be some kind of enchanted, so she should be safe. "Shall I keep you company to ward off any potential dance partners while you take a little break?" He was more than happy to do so after all.

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RIP Bee for she has died by Stef!set

Helga lowered her head in embarrassment as her cheeks tinted pink. She'd always dreamed of being a debutante so dark and mysterious that men trailed after her in attempts to figure her out, but Helga had the misfortune of being herself, always, and Mr. Longbottom's comments made it all the more apparent. She wondered what he thought of her: a ditzy debutante that he had to save every now and then? A source of amusement? A sorry soul? Merlin, she would be mortified if Harriet Prewett ever learned of the situations Mr. Longbottom had rescued her from!

"I would not ask for you to stay," she said, though she wished he would he would. (Who wouldn't want to sit next to a tall, handsome, strong quidditch player for a few minutes, especially one so eligible?) "Besides, I don't think any man will wish to dance with me for the remainder of the night." A thought equally disappointing as losing the company of Mr. Longbottom. She had such plans tonight, and now they were crumbling before her. If she had not been in public, nor so preoccupied by the gentleman's presence, she might have even pouted about it.

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— set by MJ! <3 —

"Considering I've offered, you're not exactly asking, just accepting or declining, which is entirely up to you." Beckett offered with a charming grin. The few times he and Miss Scamander had run into one another, their conversations had been rather superficial and about whatever predicament she had found herself in at the time. However tonight presented a different opportunity he was willing to follow up with.

Resting a hand on the chair next to hers, Becks pondered for a moment. "I highly doubt that." He countered easily. From what he could tell she was quite the socialite, charismatic and genial in her mannerisms. She would go far, even with weak ankles. "More of an opportunity for me, if it is the case, however." Plus she was easy to tease. Beckett always got a rise out of making young debutantes blush.

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RIP Bee for she has died by Stef!set

Relieved by the way he'd emphasized the offer, Helga allowed him to sit with a nod and a gentle pat on the chair beside her. He'd dissolved the fear that she was a burden, but it nothing he said dissolved the fear that she would make a fool of herself by the time the night was out. (Very rarely did she make a fool of herself at parties, but this man had seen her at arguably her worst: hair down, ankles out, tears welling, and on the brink of absolute hysteria.) She took comfort knowing tha nothing she could do would likely worsen his opinion of her.

Beckett Longbottom was a flirt; f he was any less handsome or rich she would have thought him a creep or a rake, but he kept the mannerisms of a gentlemen without being as boring. If he had been any other gentleman she might have feared that he was overstepping, but she knew it was all a tease—and was still all too willing to fall into his traps.

"I can hear the gossip mills now," she teased, holding her clothed leg out in front of her to get a feel for the pain, and immediately regretted it. She hissed, and then smiled, knowing ignoring it was a less emotionally taxing an socially acceptable way to handle the pain. "Though I suppose you'll have them coming after you no matter what you or I do. I've heard all sorts of wild things about the national team lately," she added with a teasing giggle.

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— set by MJ! <3 —

Before he took a seat, Becks summoned a waiter and asked for a couple of drinks, slipping the man a couple of coins for his trouble. "Ah such is the life of a quidditch player. We're either adored by fans or run through the mill." He sighed dramatically. It would be a lie to say he'd managed to keep his name off the lips of ladies who liked to gossip, but as far as he knew it was mostly harmless talk of his superior flirting skills. As far as he knew. Rommy had just been teasing him about his debutante following at the Sandition Soiree earlier in the month. He didn't mind, it was good for the ego.

"Has my name come up in conversation then?" He posed the question with a quirked eyebrow, leaning back comfortably in his seat. They had a little history after all, was she regaling her friends with their adventures? He wasn't accusing her of gossiping, but he was curious to know if he was the topic of discussion here and there. His own mother was usually the source, which was a point of contention, but he couldn't stop her, not at this point in his life.

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RIP Bee for she has died by Stef!set

Helga fought the smug smile off her face as he slipped into the seat next to her. She really ought to play coy, but she so enjoyed his company! He was right, anyhow: he had plenty of adoring fans, many who would likely kill to have her chair. By getting this seat, by holding a conversation, Helga was winning (and she got to look at his face. Merlin he was handsome. She had to keep it together.)

"I don't suppose you plan to return to the pitch after the World Cup, do you?" she asked, not sure if the thought was appealing or not. The only thing more attractive than a handsome quidditch player was a handsome quidditch sponsor. She only wished she was as into the sport as she was its players. "That's what I've heard people asking. They say Mr. Longbottom might as well join his own team since none of the Wasps could make the national team. I'm curious what the man himself thinks," she said, smiling appreciatively as the server approached with their drinks.

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— set by MJ! <3 —

Becks didn't have to wait long at all for the waiter to materialize with their drinks, and he handed Miss Scamander the flute of champagne (the good stuff, mind you) while he took an appreciative sip of his own. "I'm gleefully returning to retirement." While Beckett hadn't felt old this year, the last match had certainly put a damper on that. He was all set with playing again.

"Ouch, Miss Scamander you wound me. My team may not be that great, but we're working on it." That was not what he wanted people to say about him, not in the slightest! They were going through some rebuilding years still and he was doing his best to scout for talent, but they just seemed to be falling on hard times in the last couple years. "It does not speak well of me if I cannot coach a team to success over myself." Ouch indeed.

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RIP Bee for she has died by Stef!set

Helga listened to him complain with her champagne flute to her mouth, only lowering it once he'd finished talking. Hopefully he was not so wounded; surely a man with such physical strength was not so easily disheartened by the opinions of gossips.

"Do not fret, Mr. Longbottom," she hushed, trying and failing to keep a smile off her face, "I do not possess the same opinions as the gossip mills—and if I am honest, I've never heard a bad word of your team until you were made beater of the British team. I'm sure it's just silly girls that are disappointed that their favorite players were not chosen," she said, letting out a dramatic sigh and shaking her head to prove her point.

She was much more familiar with the topic of quidditch sponsorships than quidditch playing, having her own step-nephew and niece overseeing the management of the Chudley Cannons after the death of their Papa. "But if it troubles you anyhow, perhaps you should follow my nephew Mr. Gallivan's lead—I hear he may try to recruit one of the Moroccans."

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— set by MJ! <3 —

Beckett rarely took anything to heart. It was all in jest, some light-hearted banter. He'd never paid much attention to gossip, especially when it was aimed at him. A family member would have been a different story, but Becks had thick skin. He knew he had a lot going for him, no matter what anyone else wanted to think.

"Your nephew hm?" Beckett knew young Theo Gallivan taking over the Cannons had been a surprise, but the kid seemed to be doing alright. Becks had chatted quite amiably with his sister at an event or two earlier in the season. He highly suspected she was the mastermind behind the team. "Yes, young Miss Gallivan, his sister, she seemed quite interested in scouting the incoming teams for potential talent last time she and I spoke." They'd had quite the delightful conversation about it actually. "It's not a terrible idea. It will be interesting to see how everything plays out." Quite literally with the upcoming match.

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RIP Bee for she has died by Stef!set

"They're all involved with quidditch," she responded with a light smile. "My sister never expected to find herself managing quidditch matters when she married Mr. Gallivan, but she's taken it in stride. She's happy that both Theodore and Miss Gallivan has found their place despite the unfortunate circumstances that brought them there." Helga had always thought the life of an orphan would be sad and romantic, even if she would likely curl up and die if her own parents were to suddenly vanish from her life. At no family gatherings had she ever seen Theodore or Cecily visibly dispirited, but then again, it wasn't as if they were poor now.

"I am excited to watch," she offered, feeling the need to let everyone know she did watch quidditch even if she didn't seem like the sort. She hadn't been very interested (and still wasn't a fanatic) since her sister had married into the Gallivan family, and to provide variety to her social activities she often attended games alongside Veronica. "I hear they're rumored to have an up-and-coming seeker—not to mention that beater everyone is talking about." She knew beaters were typically large, but from Helga's observation, the Moroccans were huge. Mr. Longbottom had to be on the smaller side, but she supposed that was for the best; Helga might feel like a child next to him if he were any taller!

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— set by MJ! <3 —

Ah, that explained it. Becks was wondering how it was possible for Miss Scamander to be the aunt of a man Gallivan's age, but if her older sister had married into the family that made more sense. "We quidditch folk tend to take care of own, when the situation arises." For all the sport had rivalries and played against one another, it was a fairly tight-knit community overall.

Chucking as Miss Scamander admitted she was excited to watch the match, Beckett wished he could say he was excited to play, but after the last match he was seriously wondering what had gone through his head when he'd decided to try out at his age. Clearly he still had it- well enough to make the team it seemed, but playing at the international level was just beyond him it seemed.

"I cannot anticipate the beaters being any better than Hawaii, those giants could hit a bludger." His shoulder still ached because of it. Way to aggravate the old injury so that he'd probably never quite be able to use it properly again.

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RIP Bee for she has died by Stef!set