wouldn't it be nice [griffins]

With the back of his hand, Harlan wiped the beads of sweat from the Balinese sun off his forehead. As it turned out, they really weren't in the UK anymore.

"Fuck," He breathed out the word through a sigh. The t-shirt that clung to his torso was another reminder that there was no hiding from the thick and sticky Spring heat here. Even in the shade of palm trees, delicately swinging in the beach breeze, there was no reprieve. What he envisaged to be a relaxing getaway from the team's stresses had become something much more. He knew for himself but imagined the sentiment was shared.

That morning they'd stumbled upon a few of the local kids in the wizarding village that they were staying at playing Quidditch of all things. Well, their version of Quidditch. Their brooms were hardly functional and they were working with makeshift quaffles, and bludgers, and bats. They knew immediately what they were going to do, and without a second thought, they collected all the gear they had to give, and they played with them. The kids, of course, had no real idea who The Griffins were, and that made it all the more rewarding, for Harlan at least.

Shielding his eyes, he took in their surrounding beach. Suddenly the heat bothered him less. It was unlike anything he'd ever seen before, and something he was certain existed nowhere else in the world. They were surrounded by lush, volcanic cliffs, clear ocean water juxtaposing the silvery colored sand.

"Beer?" He turned to Alannah and Roxy, who'd opted to come to the beach, nodding to the floating bar with a grin. "Think we've earned it," He peeled his shirt off and dropped it in the sand without a second thought. They had, earned it.

Alannah didn’t have a lot of experience with children.  She wasn’t close to anyone with small kids, which was probably for the best since her propensity for drinking, crass humour and dropping F-bombs in conversation meant that she wasn’t an ideal candidate to have around those young and impressionable anyway.  Yet when the Griffins had a chance encounter with some local Balinese youth playing Quidditch, Al’s heart had gone out to them immediately.  She could vividly remember her own early teen years, trying to practice her Seeker skills by throwing and catching pebbles in the air.  It was where so many professional players had started, in informal street games like this. 

It was such a pleasure to watch the faces of the kids light up when her team brought out top-of-the-line brooms and a real league-standard Quaffle.  Hoping her swears would mostly be lost in translation, Alannah eagerly joined in the haphazard game.  Whilst the others passed balls and bats around, Alannah demonstrated a few of her favourite Snitch-catching manoeuvres for the older kids and then doubled up with some of the younger ones for rides on her broom.  She tried to be helpful and instructive in her interactions, reflecting on how someone had suggested that she could try being a teacher when she eventually retired from the sport (hopefully a long time from now).  In the end, goofing around with those kids did more for her peace-of-mind and mental wellbeing than any number of hours spent lying on the beach.  It was great to be reminded that Quidditch was supposed to be about fun. 

“Fuck,” she repeated, then laughed lightly at Harlan’s apparent discomfort.  It was amusing to see her Captain and some of her teammates struggling with the heat.  The climate in Bali was certainly quite different to what they were used to.  Alannah was not immune herself but was adjusting surprisingly well for an Irish-born woman, a matter which she credited to the time she’d spent living in Australia as a young adult.  It was actually her hair which was fairing the most poorly in the conditions - salt, wind and humidity giving her normally sleek locks a ridiculous amount of volume (Al was getting a bit sick of breaking hair elastics trying to tie it back).  Under the rays of the Balinese sun, she was glad at least to have inherited her father’s olive skin rather than her mother’s fairer complexion.  Already she was beginning to soak up a deeper sun-kissed tan. 

Beer?  “You don’t have to ask me twice!”  Throwing a grin at Roxy, she stripped down to her bathing suit, leaving her t-shirt and shorts in a pile on the sand.  Alannah ran down the beach, planning on beating the others to the bar if she could.  She entered the water with a splash, noting that it was pleasantly warm (almost like stepping into a bath), yet still cooler than standing around in the sun.  Within seconds she’d reached the bar which was only just a little way out from the shore, swaying slightly with the gentle swell of the sea.  “This shit is ingenious,” she remarked loudly to Harlan, to Roxy, to the bartender, to whoever would listen.  Al happily swam in place while waiting for their drinks.  On impulse she dipped her head back, dunking herself under the surface for a moment before rising up again dripping wet.  “Fucking brilliant!” she gasped while wiping water out of her eyes.  Grabbing her beer from the bar, Al held out the bottle to clink in a celebratory fashion with those of her companions.  “This is just what we needed.  And no reporters to boot!” 

They hadn't done it for the publicity or even for the good karma (Merlin knew they could probably use some), no they had done it out of pure love of the game. The Griffins were a rough team, a bunch of bad ass misfits with little idea how to deal with the public eye and a penchant for violence. They drank, they swore, they played hard and partied harder. All that coupled with some less than favorable articles in the Daily Prophet lately and the Gravesend team had earned a bit of a bad reputation. They could of used some good publicity right about now, a spot light showing their charity work, but that wasn't what this was about. Roxanna for one was thankful no one was around to take their photos and completely stain this good thing they were doing. It wasn't for the world, it was for these kids with their half deflated Quaffle and kitchen-quality broomsticks. Sure they flew, but just barely. As soon as they had passed them on the street it was like instantly they all knew what needed to be done. No one had even an ounce of protest when Harlan said they should help the kids out and soon enough they were passing out a bunch of brooms, a Quaffle, and playing a pick up match with them.

While she might not seem it on the outside Roxy was definitely the maternal type. A mother lion, of course, but maternal none the less and being able to help these kids out and have a good time was just what she needed to relax. This 'vacation' was turning out to be a lot better than she had expected. It seemed like the closer they got to the finals the more those pesky reporters were breathing down their necks. It was constant, it was enough to drive her mad. And after what had happened in the last game they all knew they had to get Rob out of the country before he did anything crazy.

After the pick up game the few of them headed off to the bar, for a drink they had very much earned, and Roxanna was counting the steps until her toes hit that clear blue water. Despite growing up on the sea she never got enough of the ocean and these waters were a whole lot better than back in Europe. Wearing a pair of men's board shorts and a black bikini top basically since they'd gotten to the hotel two days ago Rox was tanner than ever and looking forward to the cool water. "Don't we know it." She said with a chuckle as she followed Al into the water. It was always a race, some kind of competition, but the Beater didn't mind as she plowed forward thru the sand and tried to beat their hot shot new seeker to the bar.

Just like on the pitch speed won out over power but Roxy got there close enough after the other witch to make a bit of a wave as she swam up to the bar and dunked her head under the water. Pushing her hair back and water from her eyes as she came back up she nodded. "Yeah whoever thought up a bar inside the ocean needs a fuckin' raise.". Feeling weightless as she took a half floating seat on the little bar stool she instantly felt more relaxed. No reporters, no nonsense, just beer and friends and a soft wave. They should do this more often. When Roxy had first gone pro she did stuff like this all the time, she traveled and tried new things and explored, she was a bit of a dare devil, but lately it seemed like she'd been too busy. "You guys see the pass that kid made? Gonna' have to watch out for his ass in a year or two." She said as she took hold of the plastic pint of beer she'd been served.

"Cheers."

"Always a race," Harlan spoke to himself, his teammates already halfway down the beach.

In truth, he would be disappointed if it wasn't. That passion, that impossible-to-shake competitive nature was the very reason why he put his weight toward any potential new Griffins in the scouting season. Whatever say he had in the process, he put to finding those people who had fire in their eyes --  skill on paper meant little. While he shook his head disapprovingly, he couldn't help but smile as he watched them splash through the waves, toward the bar no less.

Harlan wasn't sure if it was the trip that had left him privately sentimental, or if it was just this season, but he felt an unfamiliar swirl of pride in his chest. The Griffins had really come into their own these past few months, against all of the odds. And to think he had almost hung up the towel.

Shaking that feeling, the captain followed Alannah and Roxy into the ocean. The water was warm, but refreshing, and felt even better as it dripped from his skin in the soft breeze once he reemerged. The duo wasted no time to get drinks, and he sidled up to the bar just in time, taking a plastic cup of his own. It was, just what they needed.

Harlan took a mouthful of beer, free elbow resting against the bar, tall enough to be above water without wading. "Hell yeah, we are," He nodded to Roxy in agreement, that kid was certainly one to look out for if he ever continued down a quidditch path. "Why else did you think I gave him that Griffins quaffle," It was unique to all the other league standard gear they left with the kids. If ever he did think about taking it another level, Harlan wanted to be sure the Griffins were top of mind.

Grinning, he took another mouthful, pushing the saltwater from his chin, facial hair more grown out than usual. "Unreal..." He took in the volcanic cliffs from their new vantage point, then the quidditch rings floating over the water, his grey eyes sparkling blue in the sun. "Make it an annual trip?" He raised an eyebrow before turning to the bartender and ordering three shots.