commiseration congregation [quinn]

The seeker laughed as her brother promised to help her seek revenge. "Unfortunately, I'll have to keep it civil," she said with a sigh. "Or anonymous." She paused to think. "At least until the season is out," she added with a wink. She wouldn't actually melt a person, never anything permanent, of course. But she was 100% okay with the fact that she felt better by thinking about doing it.

"No, I have a list of people that need to be blown up. This is happening." She turned back to her now reformed dummy, making sure that it stayed close and stationary before she aimed another spell its way. She cycled through the faces of various quidditch players, skipping right past the entire Wanderers team and settling on the face of Puddlemere United's keeper. The stupid, smug face of Oliver Wood. Answer your damn mail, she thought crossly as she fired the same hex at the dummy, this time having much greater success. She had been aiming for the chest of the dummy but made contact with its head, which was all the better for Quinn's feelings.

It might not have helped with her embarrassment related to her failed match, but it definitely helped with her embarrassment that she had even sent him a letter in the first place. The dummy's head bubbled up, the bubbling trickling down to the rest of it, before exploding in a rather satisfying mess. "That's better," Quinn said, congratulating herself as she took another step back. Still not as good as when Alex did it, but good enough for a dropout with no professional training.

She turned to look at her brother, who hadn't done anything since making his target sprout flowers, which was definitely not why she had brought him here. But it was Quinn Day and she wasn't about to give that up, no matter how much she was conflicted about her feelings on their whole relationship post-Dome. "I paid for us to have an hour at least so we're staying," she said, though money was the last thing on her mind right now. "I'll definitely need to eat soon though, so start thinking of what you'd want?" Even if she hadn't burned quite as many calories the previous day as she would have if she had not been knocked unconscious in the first ten minutes of the match, her training still called for a lot of eating.

Quinn refocused on her dummy, thinking once more of her Wood's-face-motivation before making the dummy sprout antlers, which she promptly set on fire.

@Oliver Wood

"Ahh, why is the professional world like this," Alex moaned. "I miss school.” He mostly just missed when it was okay to jinx each other with abandon; he’d had enough of Hogwarts for a lifetime.

He watched Quinn stubbornly throw another spell. He’d have offered to help, but from the look on her face she was determined to do this herself. “You’ve sure racked up some disagreements,” he commented instead. That was just like Quinn, alright. “Suppose this is better than talking it over.” He wouldn’t have minded talking it over. He’d have liked it, even. Gossip was a particular pastime of his. But sometimes Quinn got in these moods, where you weren’t going to get a thing out of her.

She looked disdainfully at his small garden, so he made the flowers burst off of the dummy in a shower of petals.

"Alright then," he said, putting his hands on his hips and trying to think of which of his favorite hexes from school might do the trick next. “Brilhando isn’t far.” He referred to one of the nicer restaurants in magical Lisbon, where he’d never been with Quinn, but had been with Augusto the summer he was seventeen. Remembering that had always made him feel he-didn’t-know-what so he usually decided to put it behind him. But it was Quinn Day and he wanted to go someplace fancy.

Alex looked over to her again. She was preoccupied with setting another dummy aflame. Again, he wondered what had gotten her this angry, whether it was more than a loss. But she’d tell him if she wanted to.

"It's more that people have disagreed with me," Quinn pointed out, refusing to admit that she ought to shoulder any of the blame for her mood. "This is much better than talking about it, because it's all quidditch-related," she said, which wasn't necessarily untrue. She was currently the most upset at Wood and his inability to return a lady's correspondence, and he was a quidditch player, so yes. All quidditch related. His gentleman act on their date had been just that: an act. Never mind that she was the one to stop whatever they were doing in its tracks.

But no matter if she were talking about Oliver Wood or a quidditch player with any actual worth, she knew Alex didn't know the finer intricacies of the professional quidditch world, nor did she want him to. It was nice to be able to vent and complain about people and have the listener just nod along and agree with everything.

"Brilhando, perfect," she agreed, having eaten there once or twice, and not actually caring where they went. She watched with a smile on her face as the fire on the dummy's new antlers went out on its own. The dummy shed its antlers, but as it did, Quinn could feel her smile go along with them. This suddenly wasn't very fun anymore. She had been trying so hard to keep Alex at arm's length, not ready to dump all of her problems on him. He had enough to deal with.

But this was too much. She had to tell him something. Anything. She let out a very heavy sigh and turned to her brother, however avoiding his gaze. "I..." she drew out the single syllable as long as possible, trying to avoid the inevitable, "Went on a date and it would be a terrible idea to ever see or talk or... whatever again but it's so stupid and my stomach is in knots and I hate this and I hate him so much." Quinn said everything as quickly as possible, glossing over the rest of the details, finally looking Alex in the eye with a puzzled look on her face.

She turned so she could lean back against the wall, sliding down just a couple inches. "I should not be the one dealing with this," she concluded. She shouldn't have to be trying this hard to either ignore Oliver or get his attention, whichever thing she felt like doing at the time.

She turned to him very seriously, and his heart seized up for a moment. He wasn’t sure he was ready for heavy kind of talk. It wasn’t his style. They rarely had much heavy stuff going on anyway, their lives had always been sort of charmed, and it suited Alex. But lately things had gone a little dark. Quinn had been treating him differently, it was hard not to notice. He wasn’t ready for her to lay her worries out in the open, had no interest in confronting anything again.

But no, this was about a date.

“Boy troubles?” asked Alex, eyebrows raised. He’d have killed for some of those right now. Then Quinn would have just been making fun of him like usual and not handling him with kid gloves. At least now he would get to make fun of her. But even as he was glad the conversation had gone down this path instead, it surprised him how seriously she was taking this. “It’s not worth it,” he said. “If he makes you this mad then screw him.” He said it matter-of-factly, like it was that easy. It had always been for them, after all. They were lone rangers at the core, breaking hearts all over the place.

He moved over beside his sister, nudging her shoulder. “Was he at least good-looking?”

"But that's part of the problem," Quinn whined, getting upset that her brother wasn't immediately on the same page as she was. She didn't usually have to explain things in such detail to get him to understand. Why wasn't he getting this? "He's not supposed to make me this mad," she went on with a sigh. Not being talked to was not a usual problem the woman had. "I'm not supposed to care at all," she reiterated, driving the point home that she was quite good at keeping her feelings at bay. "Also, 'screw him' is literally the only thing I want to do, even it that's totally not what you meant."

She groaned again as she nodded her head. "He was, he is." Gorgeous, that is. It was one thing to think that he was incredibly attractive while she was absolutely smashed, but to keep thinking he was gorgeous in the morning after she had sobered up? And then to not actually mind when he opened his mouth to speak? Quinn hadn't been seriously upset with him until long after he had left her house, which was more than just unusual for many of her first dates. It was unheard of.

Quinn refocused her gaze at the ceiling, wanting to look into Alex's face, which she assumed wouldn't have anything other than a judgmental look upon it. "I might have told him that we shouldn't talk anymore but," she gave in and looked to her brother, "Now he's actually following through with his part." Alex should understand how offended she was by this slight that Oliver had given her without her having to explain it. Quinn was under the impression that she was too incredible to pass up and she was willing to hex anyone that disagreed with her.

"He plays quidditch," she added quietly, hoping that this would be enough to explain the entire situation without her having to get in to who exactly it was. Really, no one needed to know that she was this distraught over this certain pro.

Alex raised his eyebrows. “Maybe you’re in love, Quinnsie.”

He was half-joking but the thought disappointed him a little, made him look off thoughtfully. It was bound to happen to one of them eventually, but he’d expected longer, at least not until they were old and boring. He certainly hadn’t expected Quinn to be the one. To go and start caring about what some man thought of her, whether he talked to her. He, he might have gone soft someday. But It wasn’t like his sister at all.

At her last admission, he laughed weakly. "That bit I get."

Maybe it was just that he was really, really, exceptionally fit. That would make more sense than sudden feelings out of nowhere. He understood that illusion of love, that infatuation with great sex that took over the mind. It could happen, even to Quinn.

"Well, if he's not going to write you back then it doesn’t matter how gorgeous he is,” said Alex with a hint of an encouraging smile. “He’s a knob like everyone else. Blow him up as much as you like.”

She spoke quietly. "Ah," he said. “Kindred spirits, then.” His fear crept back into his stomach. Quinn and someone else, someone sexy who shared her passion to boot. It was right, but wrong. It would change everything he and Quinn had together, their hot single joie de vivre.

He hoped mystery quidditch man never wrote her back, in spite of himself. He hoped she would forget him and go back to normal.

"Merlin, never." There was no way she was in love. She had slept with him twice, they had hardly talked about anything except quidditch or sleeping with each other. Not in love. She hadn't even felt that way towards Estevão, and she had dated him for over three years, sleeping with him way more than two times. So that was definitely not the issue here. All the same, Quinn glared at her brother, both for coming up with his stupid idea and for calling her Quinnsie. She was not a fan of either thing.

She nodded along as he agreed with her; "The worst part is I know he had a great time," she stated surely. "He really should be thanking me." She shrugged, like it was a normal occurrence for all her one night stands to send her bouquets and thank you cards. Sure, it had actually happened once, but it was definitely not the response she was wanting or expecting. She wouldn't mind it though.

Quinn finally smiled, fully thankful Alex agreeing with her on her situation. "That, dear brother, is an excellent point," she reached over to squeeze his arm appreciatively. "Total knob. You know, I might actually be giving him too much credit, thinking he actually knows how to write. The written language is probably a hard thing to grasp for him." While she knew that wasn't the case, having been witness to him signing his name, the thought that he was simply incapable of writing her back did make her feel the tiniest bit better.

Kindred spirits? Maybe. Probably too much so. "The worst part is that we haven't played his team yet so I'm going to have to look at him eventually." She would never let him get in the way of her quidditch focus, but he definitely had the potential to be a contender. "This is so stupid," she concluded with a sigh. "I've been upset about this for over a week and it was one lousy date. Can you please, please talk about anything else?" Quinn leaned into him, taking the opportunity to rest her head on his shoulder.

He chuckled at Quinn’s reaction to the idea of love. “That sounds more like it.”

She seemed to ease up, smiling back. “Like I said,” said Alex. “Not worth it.” He held himself back from asking whether she had also had a great time, though he was curious to know details. Right now she just needed to be told how great she was, needed her ego soothed a little. “Never bother with anybody who doesn’t realize how good you are.” He laughed as she disparaged mystery man further. “Ah, well, sports boys,” he said, settling against Quinn. “Gorgeous idiots.” He hooked his elbow with hers. “Just make sure you look stunning and beat him good.”

Quinn grumbled about changing the subject. “Well, I haven’t been on a date, lousy or otherwise, in approximately eight months,” said Alex. “So you’ll forgive me if I live vicariously through you for a little.” He would have led the conversation toward gossip of his own, but he had nothing to speak of. He had been spending most of his time at home, hadn’t been in his usual mood, to his frustration. It bothered him greatly that things were different, and he didn’t know why they were. Maybe Quinn had picked up on his unease, that was why she was treading carefully. It wasn’t her fault. He’d been different, even if he hadn’t wanted to be.

“Sorry for being weird lately,” he said. “I think this is helping me get back to normal.”

Quinn rolled her eyes, though she was more than thrilled to leave the subject of love behind them. She just nodded along as he complimented her, agreeing that she really should just leave him behind since he obviously didn't realize how wonderful she was. "Gorgeous idiot," she agreed, though she couldn't stop herself from focusing on the 'gorgeous' part of that insult. "I can definitely guarantee the 'look stunning' part of that request." She would normally also guarantee a win for the Falcons, but after she had been less the successful the majority of the season, she decided not to say anything along those lines lest she jinx herself. "And thankfully I don't have anything to do with anyone except the Seeker, so hopefully I won't even have to bother looking at him." Not that she could trust herself not to look at him, but she would be doing her damnedest to spare herself.

The woman immediately regretted asking him to talk about something else when he mentioned his eight month hiatus from everything. She should have known that would have been his response, he should have had to remind her of that, and now she felt terrible. But then she realized that in the past eight months, she had been on a handful of first dates, both good and otherwise, yet this most recent one was the only one she actually wanted to talk to him about. Gross.

She wanted to hug him, to tell him everything would be okay, that they'd figure out how to get out their slump of the past few months, that she would do whatever she could to help him. But none of that really seemed appropriate for the venue, or for their current conversation. Instead, she ignored his apology, knowing that if anyone should apologize it should be her. The least she could do was help him keep getting back to normal.

"Fiiine," she drew out the word, following it with a dramatic sigh. "If it helps you get back to normal." She sighed again, less dramatically. "We were set up on a blind date and as soon as I saw him I immediately regretted agreeing to it in the first place and then somewhere along the way I decided that my best option would be bringing him home. And that worked, so it really is basically my fault that I'm miserable anyway." She shrugged, her head still resting on her brother's shoulder. She still completely blamed Oliver for however she was feeling, but she knew it would make Alex feel better to hear her admit that she played some part in all of this

She was agreeing with him, but blankly, nodding along like she was barely listening. He wished he knew more about the quidditch leagues so he could decipher precisely who had gotten under Quinn’s skin like this, have a name to focus his feelings on. A team she hadn’t played yet, not the seeker. And highly attractive, of course, though from what Alex knew of quidditch players, that criterion didn’t really narrow the field.

He raised his eyebrows in interest as she agreed, with exaggerated petulance, to give him details. But still there was no name. Normally she’d have given out the offending man’s name, address, and any embarrassing secrets she’d managed to glean, but Quinn was being cagey about this one. Alex wasn’t sure what that might mean, nor was he sure he wanted to know. Because, at least, it meant things were different.

"I guess that's what you get for being a slut," he teased, to cover up his minor unease. It was a frequent term of affection between them, though mostly used in his direction. And as such he knew quite well that Quinn’s affliction was exactly the sort of thing one got. It was easy to catch feelings between the sheets. “It’ll wear off.” He kissed the side of her head with smirking lips. “Or maybe he’ll get in a devastating broom crash and never work again and you won’t have to see him for the rest of your life. One of the two.”

Alex glanced at the range, where the dummies they’d been mauling were perfectly intact again. “You let off enough steam?” he asked Quinn. “Or were you planning to blow some stuff up a little more?”

Quinn jabbed her brother in the ribs with an elbow as he chided her for having the fun that he could only wish to be having, though he did have a point. She really shouldn't have kissed Oliver in a pub in the first place and she definitely shouldn't have brought him to her house. They had spent more time snogging than having any actual conversation. Never mind that she didn't kick him out after she was done with him, going so far as to cook him breakfast and then repeat everything. So yes, however blunt he was, Alex wasn't wrong, and he did not need to know those extra details of the morning after. One time was embarrassing enough.

"Really, I'm fine with either option," she said with a smirk, though there was still that little part of her that was really, really hoping he wouldn't be in a devastating broom crash, no matter how easy that would make her current situation. "Maybe both," she said, reassuring her brother as much as herself with her new found resolve. Quinn straightened up, stretching her arms up over her head, only realizing how tense her shoulders had been the past few days after it was gone; apparently talking to Alex really had helped, probably more than the target practice they had originally come for.

She shrugged as she followed his gaze to the dummies. "I think I'm done blowing stuff up, but feel free to keep telling me how amazing I am." That was definitely the most helpful part of having Alex with her. "I don't know if I'm really hungry though. Definitely not Brihlando-level hungry. Mind if we just get a drink or go home or go to the Amalfi coast or something?" She really wanted to go home, and she expected Alex to know that, only suggesting the other things to create the illusion of him actually having a choice in the matter.

"I'll cook, or something. You can still degnome the garden if you really want," she spoke as if he had already agreed to go back to Falmouth with her and was planning to stay the rest of the day, too. She held out her hand for him, more to just hold it than actually offer him any sort of help. She was consciously trying not to treat him any differently than usual, and that included a bit of bossing him around if necessary.

He smoothed out his shirt as Quinn stretched. “I’ll never stop telling you you’re amazing,” he said, again only partly joking. “That’s what family’s for.” He didn’t amend his statement, even as he considered how unusual their friendship might have been to the many siblings he knew who did little but fight. “At least until Quinn Day’s over," he added playfully. "Then I'll be a little mean if I want.” There were times they would snap at each other, but these days were sacred.

Last Alex Day had been in mid-February, when he’d been released from hospital but hadn’t had his leg replaced yet. They lay about eating cake and listening to radio dramas that he usually took great pleasure in explaining the intricate plots of. But that time he had felt burdensome. It wasn’t like when she’d come to soothe him over some infatuation easily replaced, some thing Quinn didn’t really care about and could convince him meant nothing. Even cases with the aurors that had ended in tragedy had never affected them so directly. It made him ill to be the one to bring their family down, to be the object of their worry, their pity.

Today he wanted to be uplifting again. It was all he'd ever been for Quinn, a supporter, a rock. It felt good to be needed today. It felt natural.

“Then we’ll go back,” he said. “Or whatever you want.” She held out her hand to him and he took it, squeezed it. "Until you forget Mystery Man. Now c'mon,” he urged with a small, earnest grin. "Let's get out of here."

"I can't wait," Quinn said with a laugh, looking forward to Alex being mean again. That would just get them one step closer to normal, and that was exactly what she wanted, and she was pretty sure that he wouldn't mind that either. She wasn't sure when the day had morphed into Quinn Day, but she wasn't about to argue the point. This was probably the closest she would ever get to a national holiday about herself.

She returned the hand squeeze and smile before sighing once more dramatically. "Falmouth it is," she said with a nod, her smile widening into a grin when Alex agreed to whatever she wanted. What a good brother, helping her forget her mystery man. Though calling Oliver Wood a mystery would imply that the man had depth, and she was pretty sure she had him all figured out.

They stepped back onto the street, leaving their couple unused but paid for hours of target practice behind. She let Alex head back through the fireplace before her before she grabbed her own handful of floo powder and followed her brother back to England.