Brian was thrilled. Today could accurately be described as a nearly-perfect day. When Tara had owled him a couple of weeks ago asking if he would want to be her guest at the upcoming Griffins/Bats Quidditch match, he had broken the tip of his quill in his haste to accept her invitation. It had been several months since he attended a match, and he would never in his right mind decline a chance to spend time with the spitfire witch who so inexplicably fascinated him. The fact that the match was between Ballycastle and Gravesend - respectively his favorite and second-favorite teams - was icing on the cake, really.
The match had not disappointed. Attending with the owner’s daughter and viewing from the owner’s box had heightened the experience for him. The privacy and luxury of the box were second to none. It helped shield him from angry Griffins fans when the Bats’ Seeker won the game for the Bats in a most spectacular fashion. After the game ended, he found his attention diverted in conversation with Tara’s (
very pretty) younger sister Blair, who was about the same age as his own sister, Fiona. So absorbed was he in their conversation that when Tara elbowed him and interrupted it took him a moment to gather his wits.
“Sure,” he responded to her query as to whether he wanted to visit the locker rooms. Truth be told, he had half-forgotten about her earlier offer in all the excitement. He was surprised that the offer still stood, given that she didn’t seem to be in the best of moods, courtesy of her team’s loss. With a wink and a wave goodbye to Blair, he followed Tara out of the box. Glancing down at his shirt as she indicated he would need to lose it before entering the locker room, he quirked a brow as he shot back, “At least I’ll fit right in.” He wasn’t ashamed of cheering for the away team that day, but he certainly didn’t fancy a fight with the ticked-off members of the Griffins team, some of whom were his friends.
“I think you're not allowed to come to the next Ballycastle game here. Maybe you jinxed us,”While they walked, the occasional random stragglers passed them, though Brian took no notice. All of this attention was on the woman walking next to him. An easy smile graced his lips and his hazel eyes twinkled as he regarded her. “Easy there, tiger,” he said, chuckling. “I can’t help it if your team was outshone and outplayed by a clearly superior team,” he gibed. Oh yes, victory was very sweet. The Bats’ win had been brilliant, although the Griffins had put on a good show and given the Bats a run for their money.
As they neared the entrance to the locker rooms, two obviously drunken, agitated Griffins fans approached them. One was a few inches shorter than Brian and burly, while the other was tall and thin. “Look at this wanker, Jim, prancing around our stadium wearing Bats gear. Thinks he’s better than us,” sneered the tall one. The burly one (apparently named Jim) was holding a half-full cup of beer that he tossed in Brian’s face before giving him a violent shove. “What the
fuck?” he exclaimed, too surprised at first to do anything other than swear. It only took a moment for a fist to connect with his chin, snapping his head back. Reeling from the blow, he stepped backward, instinctively pushing
@Tara Kingsley out of the way behind him. He couldn’t simultaneously protect her and fight the two pieces of dragon crap in front of him.
Recovering slightly, rage took over as he charged at the burly one who had emptied his drink on Brian’s face. All rational thought had fled from his mind as he pummeled his opponent, barely registering the blow to his mouth that caused his teeth to clamp down on the inside of his lip and blood to fill his mouth.