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“Is this seat taken?” Ginny dropped herself in Halley’s lap when the crowd erupted in cheers as the ball exploded in a player’s hands. She felt her girlfriend wrap her arms around her waist, careful not to let Ginny’s drink spill. Of course, the only exciting thing would happen when she had left for refreshments, but Ginny wasn’t expecting much. It was nothing like Quidditch, which was a proper sport.
Sitting next to them, Ron made a gagging sound. “I’m right here.”
“Why?” said Halley. “You’ve been living with this for half a decade already.”
Ginny smiled. The Quodpot game out on the pitch continued. She knew Americans enjoyed this, but nothing could beat Quidditch because it made sense. What was the point of making the Quaffle (or in the game, she was barely paying attention to, the Quod) explode other than to amuse people like Ron?
She wanted to say this, but one of Halley’s hands moved to stroke the stretch of skin revealed by Ginny’s shirt. A kiss was pressed to the shell of Ginny’s ear, black hair mingling with red. Halley’s other hand went to her thigh. Her eyes were on the game, but her attention was elsewhere. Oh, so it was going to be like that? Ginny liked Halley’s idea more than Quodpot.
She continued to fake every ounce of interest in the game, laughing perhaps too wickedly when the American chaser fumbled again with his ball. Ron commented about some gossip about the players that he heard from Lee Jordan the other day, occasionally stealing sips from Ginny’s beer. Halley, on the other hand, was a monster.
Oh, she cheered at appropriate times and booed at others. But every time one of the teams made a score, she would stroke higher up the sliver of exposed skin on Ginny’s hip, trace the inside seam of her jeans, all sorts of subtle touch. The glide of her palm to the back of Ginny’s thigh, her lips grazing Ginny’s collarbone for a quick kiss. It was all enough to make her squirm in Halley’s lap. A quick kiss on the back of her neck, the press of her glasses cool against heated skin as she felt that sly smile grew.
Halley Potter was an absolute monster.
At what she hoped was finally the end of the match, Ginny gave Ron her half-empty drink. Rising to her feet, she threw Halley a heated look over her shoulder. “Feel like playing a better game?”
Halley's expression was smug against the backdrop of the game. She touched the brim of her hat, enchanted to make all cameras register her as a faceless blur in a crowd. They all wore variations of it. It only made it easier for them to slip away. “I’ll meet you there.”
Ron covered his face with his hands.
Halley brushed some imaginary crumbs off her shirt. “What?”
Ron sighed.
“Does this mean I can leave?” Halley was already standing.
Ron waved her away.