(Supposed to go up earlier....but I forgot)


Euan ran a hand over his face as he took a moment before knocking on Rose's door. There really was no reason to be nervous, he told himself. This was Rose. She didn't seem to care much that he hadn't owled or anything over her season break, so he shouldn't care either. That thought had the tension easing somewhat, but still there were other reasons to worry, other reasons to put out of his mind for today. No, today was for quidditch.

Pushing the heavy thoughts to the back of his mind, he knocked on the door and waited for his small, brightly colored friend to appear.



Pulling the door open with one hand, the other still tugging her boot on, Rose smiled up at Euan, face glowing with excitement. "You know, I haven't been to just watch a game in ages!" she exclaimed without pretense, straightening, smile bright.

"Well then, you should be in luck." He stuck his hands in his pockets, watching her flit around. "You said you wanted lunch first, in your owl. Did you want to sit down or get something to take away to eat at the stadium?" The choice didn't matter much to him. They were sitting in the players' section, more or less, and they wouldn't have to wait in line much to get to their seats.

"You know I'm up for anything," Rose answered, grabbing her scarf and hat. It was going to clash horribly with her hair, but the important thing was staying warm. It would horrible if she caught a cold, and would do anything to avoid it. "Any particular flavor you feel like?"

"Nope." Euan shook his head. "Ladies' choice. My treat even." He watched her bundle herself up. "You know, you might not need all that. The stands can get pretty warm with so many people packed in." He knew from experience. That's why he was pretty much wearing his Montrose jersey and his leather jacket.

"Hmmm..." Pushing Euan back into the hall with a small hand on his chest, Rose waved her hand, setting the wards on her flat. Turning back to him, her nose was scrunched up in thought. "I'm not good with decisions. I'm best when impulsive. Maybe we make our way there and see what calls out to us?"

"Sure." It was a home game for Montrose so many of the shops that catered to wizards, and some that didn't, were bound to be bustling today and he found himself anxious to get to the atmosphere.

Making their way outside, Rose wrapped her coat tighter around her body, pulling her hat over her ears. "So what have you been up to, Auror Extrordinaire? I feel like I haven't seen you since summer!"

"That's because you haven't," he confessed. "My mother's back in the country. She's leasing a flat." He left the story there. He didn't want to admit that he was doing his damnedest to avoid her and his father. "So I've been... busy. And you? What have you done to fill your hours?"

"Your mum is back? Euan, that's big!" Rose didn't pretend to know much about Euan's home life, other than having met his grandparents once, but she did know his mother wasn't in the country a lot. "Has she been visiting a lot?" she asked, ignoring his personal question for the time being.

"More or less. She does have the flat in London, so more often than not my dad'll be there." He knew he was kind of evading the question, but how was he supposed to tell his friend he was avoiding his mother without sounding like a callous jerk? "I've had lunch with her a few times."

Rose frowned slightly, the tone in his voice slightly confusing. "That's good. I bet she's proud to see what you're doing. Big Auror man and all, you know, protecting small little women like me." She looked at him out of the corner of her eyes, a grin pulling her lips.

Euan smiled. "I think you don't give yourself enough credit, Rose. You're tough. So did you want to side-along? Or just meet at Montrose?"

"Side along," she answered, a shiver running up her legs, "the warmth will be nice." Laughing, she wrapped her arms around his middle, "you must be very hot blooded not to be freezing!"

"Or from Aberdeen," he murmured as they ducked into a nearby alley. Seconds later they were on the streets of the Scottish port city, joining the ranks of people heading towards the stadium.

"That's true," Rose answered once they were among the throngs of people, staying close to his side, "but it's easy to forget because you work so hard to keep your accent from coming out."

He wrapped an arm over her shoulders. "It's just easier for people to understand me, is all." That, and he didn't like standing out all that much. It was easier if he spoke like everyone else. "So, lunch?"

Green eyes casting about the streets, she smiled and pointed to a small pub. "In there? It doesn't look too crowded, and we've got time left, right?"

He looked at his watch. There was plenty of time before the players flew onto the pitch, let alone when the quaffle was let go. "We do. What are you in the mood for?"

"Something salty," she answered, grinning as she wrapped a gloved hand around his and pulled him through people and to the club. Her height gave her advantages, and one of those was finding a way easily through the crowd.

Having parted from the sea of people filing towards the stadium, choruses of fight songs echoing through the air, Rose pushed open the heavy wooden door, helped along with a hand by Euan, and stood in the doorway, letting her eyes adjust to the sudden darkness.

"Well, then the fish and chips ought to be good." Even here, away from the docks, one could still smell the sea. "I'm thinking haggis myself." He knew the mere thought of Scotland's national dish brought grossed out looks to those who hadn't grown up with it, he enjoyed it.

"I've never had that before," Rose said, pulling off her gloves and hat, stuffing them in the pockets of her coat as she made her way towards a booth, sliding into it as she smoothed her hair down. "Fish and chips does sound good though. Can't have too many. Still training and what not, you know."

"Of course and you're welcome to try some, if you'd like." He slid into the booth on the opposite side of the table, slipping off his jacket as he did so. "This seems like a stupid question, but are you excited for the game?"

Both of Rose's hands slammed palm down onto the tables. "I think you underestimate my devotion to this game, Abercrombie. It doesn't matter if I'm playing or watching, I'm in the game."

He tried not to laugh, but it bubbled up anyway. "So noted, Rose, so noted." He wished he could have her devotion, but alas, more often than not he was falling rather than staying atop his broom. When the waitress came over to take their orders, Euan ordered a full Burns' supper, complete with a dram of whisky. If he was going to start the afternoon off, he might as well start it off right.

Giving Euan an impressed look, Rose glanced up at the waitress, ordering her fish and chips and a water. When she'd left, she turned back to Euan. "You asked what I'd been doing lately, and I never answered. Just remembered it, actually." Shrugging her shoulders a bit, she smiled.

"I've been at the pitch a lot, and coming home completely exhausted. My flat is probably a mess, but that's not really any different than the off season. I'm half-tempted to hire a cleaning witch, but even that'd take too much work. My brothers will be passing through sometime in November on a leg of the tour and I have plans to see them. Patrick might stop by sometime after Halloween, but his plans are never set in stone. I've spent some time with Regan, who you met at the Pier... and that's about it."

It took him a moment to remember who this Regan was, but then remembered the petite blonde who had known about the auror's presence. "Who is Patrick?" he asked, playing with a paper napkin, do his best not to begin tearing it into shreds.

Grabbing her glass of water as it was set in front of her, Rose tried to figure out how to describe Patrick. "Pat was in my brothers' band for a while before they got big. He quit right before they started their international tour. We hung out a lot when I went on the road with them, had fun. He's solo now, goes all over, which is why I never really know if he's actually going to come when he says he will."

She took a sip, looking at the dark liquid in his glass, preferring her water for the time being. She tended to get physical while in the stands and didn't want to be sloshed while doing so.

He sipped his whisky, content to savor and save it until the haggis came. "Ah, well, then I guess he keeps you on your toes as you keep me on mine?" Euan said with a grin.

Rose laughed, shaking her head. "Among other things." She hadn't seen Patrick in months, but wouldn't be surprised if he showed up out of nowhere one day. It was how he was, how they used to be.

"And I don't keep you on your toes, Mr. Auror. Your profession does that all on its own."

"I'm sorry, Ms. Quiddich Player, but I think you have the wrong idea about Auror-ing. It's not just about capturing the bad guys, there's a lot of paperwork. A lot. In fact, I don't think they tell about about the sheer amounts so they don't scare poor unsuspecting fools." He shook his head. "You keep me on my toes the good way, Rose Zeller."

"Well, not enough recently, then. I'll have to work on that. I just get so wrapped up in things that I sort of... space. Sorry about that."

"No, I understand. I... space too." Euan knew all about wrapping himself up in work to forget about think. "Perhaps we need to set little reminders to tell us not to get so wrapped up in whatever we're doing?"

Leaning forward, Rose giggled. "You mean like charms that shock us, reminding us to owl the other?"

"Well, maybe not shock," Euan shrugged, "I'm not a masochist after all. But maybe some type of mini-howler? Or a rememberall, though those things are rubbish because you can never remember what you set it to remind you of."

"Something like that," Rose said, grinning. "Either way, I suppose. Just something that will keep us from forgetting each other again for so long. Maybe one of these times you can take a few days off and come hang out with me and my brothers. Have you even ever been to a concert?"

"A real concert with a band, a stage, and lots and lots of attendees? Never." Euan shrugged. "I've been to several céilidhs, though I don't think they're the same thing."

"Was there screaming, lots of beer, and people taking their shirts off and throwing them on stage?"

"Well, there was lots of alcohol and a fair bit of screaming, but the other two were generally frowned upon." He thought about the céilidhs his grandparents use to throw during the summers up at the Inn for guests and members of the small village down the road. They hadn't done it this year, which was a bit odd, all things considered. "No, they're generally a much more family oriented affair with music and a band playing... with lots of dancing."

"Taking off shirts and throwing them on stage is a time honored Quaffles tradition. I've actually got several tossed shirts in my closet right now. The boys let me keep some."

He blinked. That was a sort of odd tradition, but who was he to judge? "You do wash them, right?"

"No. I like to keep the night on them," Rose said, sitting back in the booth when their food was set before them.

"Um, that's kind of gross," he said, looking down to what he was about to tuck into. Then again, who was he to quantify what was gross or not? "Tuck in?"

Rose shrugged. She'd never worn the shirts, just kept them as reminders of the fun she'd had. "Food sounds good, then the game, yeah?"

He nodded, picking up his glass. "Exactly. Here's to hoping that Montrose's season is better than their last." He clinked it against her water before taking a large sip.

~*~*~*~

Their stomachs warm and full, Euan and Rose made their way towards the stadium, again letting themselves get swept away in the crush. He was feeling more relaxed now, the food and alcohol working their own particular brands of magic. He flashed their tickets, season passes, to the man at the gate and began to lead Rose up to the players' section. He knew Montrose's stadium wasn't as nice as Holyhead's, but it had been a few years since any renovation and time was beginning to show herself.

"I'm rather impressed so far, Mr. Abercrombie," Rose said, arm in his as they walked up the steps towards their section. "Season tickets from Gramps, players' section. Will there be incredibly tiny sandwiches for us to munch on as well, or would that be too grand of a thing to hope for?"

As they settled into their seats, Euan hardly had a chance to answer when a voice behind them spoke up. "They cut the sandwiches out last season, which wasn't necessarily a bad thing considering they were alternatively soggy or stale." The man held out his hand to Rose. "Hamish MacFarlan."

Rose stood, her hand dwarfed as the man shook her outstretched hand. "Rose Zeller. Shame about the sandwiches. Snacking during games is one of the best parts," she said with a grin, glancing at Euan from the corner of her eyes. "Former player or just avid fan?"

"Both." Hamish grinned as he looked at the younger man towering over the small woman. "Euan, your grandfather know you're out and about with the Harpies' newest chaser?"

Euan nodded. "Yes, sir." He turned towards Rose. "He was captain for Montrose, played beater with my grandfather."

"Don't forget my ill fated attempt at politics as Head of Magical Games and Sports. And what have I told you about this sir business? Uncle Ham's was fine when you were six and still is." The man laughed again at the blush spread across the boy's face. Oh, he was too much like James for him not to be an easy mark.

"Uncle Ham," Euan acquiesced.

"I'm in the presence of Montrose royalty?" Rose asked, her green eyes lighting. She dipped slightly, her boots squeaking as they slid against each other in a curtsy. "Can I call you Uncle Ham too?" Her lips were curled into a large grin, red hair slicking out from underneath her colorful hat.

The man's eyes crinkled in the corner with silent laughter. "I wouldn't call me royalty, but your free to. And I don't know. What do you say, Euan?" He turned to the auror in training with a raised eyebrow. "Care to share your nickname?"

Euan bobbed his head. He had been so (needlessly) worried that his parents might be at the game that he had forgotten about other relatives, adopted or otherwise. Oh well, his uncle was a jovial sort, interested in all matters quidditch. He and Rose should get on fabulously. "Sure."

"Brilliant," Rose said, grin widening as she turned towards Euan, eyebrows raising slightly in his direction before her attention was back on the older man standing before her. "So you knew Euan when he was younger? There have got to be stories you can tell me, then, right?"

Euan gave a nervous chuckle. "Probably. But you don't want to hear them now do you? The players are due out at any moment."

"Oh!" Green eyes turned towards the pitch, hands clasped in front of her as she saw the excitement ripple through the fans as the time neared for their team to fly out and begin the battle. She half-turned, smiling at Ham. "Afterwards? I'll be mighty distracted during the game."

Ham winked at her. "I make it a habit of never turning a pretty girl down."

Euan wanted to say something about flirting with a girl young enough to be his granddaughter, but he held his tongue as Montrose black and white began to fly out to the pitch. They had gotten a new seeker during the off-season and he was anxious to see what Whitby could do.

The compliment was lost in the flurry of activity on the pitch. Rose followed the movements of the players, her competition if she really thought about it, but at the moment she was just caught up in the game, the first thing she'd really fell in love with. Perhaps the only thing.

"Go Montrose!" she screamed, small fist pumping into the air as she jumped in place.

Euan quickly tossed his jacked onto his seat as his eyes began to track the players' movements. "Montrose!" he echoed the crowd. As each player flew by he murmured their name and number, perhaps for Rose's benefit or for his own, he wasn't sure. Whitby - 99, Rothmore - 14, Krauss - 52, DeVille -36, Carter - 28, Osbourne - 70, and Vito - 47. It was his first time attending this season and some of the faces were new to the starting line up.

The grace and beauty of the game was something Rose had always marveled at, even while playing. Flying through the air, spinning in place to avoid a well placed bludger. It was fluid in motion, all the parts of the team working as one. The chasers working the quaffle down the pitch, the beaters helping to clear the path, the keeper avoiding the ball at their end of the field, and the seeker floating above it all, surveying everything, eyes always alert for the hint of gold.

Since playing with the Harpies, she'd learned a new appreciation for the sport. Fabriana, Mina, Gwen... they all expected the best from her, and cultivated it whenever they could. The teams flying above the grass right now would try their best as well in the sport that they loved, knowing they may lose at the end of the day, but still living for the thrill of the chase, or simply for the thrill.

It was how Rose operated in a lot of her life, seeking the next big thrill, and this game let her do it whole new ways.

She flinched when a bludger came within inches of hitting one of Montrose's chasers. "Oh, that was close!"

It should have been caught before hand, but while Euan had grown up breathing quidditch, he had never been a player, so he couldn't judge too harshly. When he heard his Uncle Ham cursing behind him, he knew his line of thought wasn't too far out of the realm of possibility.

As the players did their aerial dance, Euan found himself craning his neck, looking for the snitch rather than watching Montrose's chasers race down the pitch. It was a bad habit he had had ever since he was small. He had always wanted to be the person who spotted the little gold ball first. And he was pretty good at it, if he felt like being honest with himself. Of course, he never had to contend with bludgers and beaters.

The yell as Carter put the quaffle through one of Kenmere's hoops pulled his attention back to the full game and he let out a cheer a beat behind every one else.

"YEAH!" The atmosphere of a Quidditch game was like nothing else, and Rose could feel the energy ripple up her arms. It was like being in a packed club, in a way, or at one of her brothers' concerts; a feeling you couldn't ignore once you were in the thick of it.

She jumped up and down, turning to her right to throw her arms around Euan. Rose knew the game was far from over, that it was all up to the snitch, but she knew the rush that came with the feel of getting a quaffle past the keeper and through the hoops, had experienced it earlier that day at her own game.

"Come on, come on, come on," Euan whispered under his breath as the chasers continued to press on. A strong start was an indication of good things to come. Carter regained control of the quaffle once more. He watched, with bated breath, as a bludger came from behind, grazing the chaser enough to knock him off course and drop the ball.

"MOVE," he yelled at the top of his lungs as Osbourne and DeVille went to regain control, but Kenmere got there first.

"BASTARD!" Competition brought the worst from Rose's mouth, something she was chastised for with regularity on the Harpies pitch.

"Damn straight," Euan muttered darkly, grey eyes scanning the pitch. First scores didn't mean anything. It was last scores that counted. And the snitch.

The game flew by, Montrose keeping a steady lead as Kenmere scrambled to make up the differential. Rose was quickly growing hoarse from the screaming, the energy still thrumming through her body. She gasped, hand wrapping around Euan's upper arm as she pointed. "Look! Whitby saw something!"

She watched as the man executed a dive, bearing down on something she couldn't see yet.

Whitby did indeed see something and Euan's gaze darted to the brown, black, and white blur dove, Kenmere's seeker in hot pursuit. A quick glance at the scoreboard confirmed that less than one hundred and fifty points separated the teams. Catching the snitch would make the game.

Rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet, Euan's body thrummed with the tension of the crowd. He wanted his team to win. He needed his team to win. After last season's disappointing record, the winningest team in the league needed to regain it's former glory.

Rose's breath was held in her lungs as her green gaze followed the seekers, the rest of the game forgotten as the two fought against the wind for their goal, her hand tightening on Euan's arm as they got closer.

He forgot to breathe as Whitby and the other seeker became neck and neck, finger tip to finger tip, away from the snitch. And then one was darting upward, hand raised. Euan was already cheering before he realized that it was Monrose who had caught the snitch and that they had won.

"We WON!" Euan turned and threw his arms around his companion, leaning down to leave two smacking kisses on her cheeks. Perhaps strong starts weren't such bad things after all.

The elation of the win coursed through her, her face bright as she cheered along with the other spectators. Rose'd never been a particular fan of Montrose, and though she knew it was going against her own team, she was ecstatic that a team Euan was so invested in had won. "That was a brilliant catch!" she said, hands still wrapped around her friend's upper arms. "He's new, right? He's good!"

"Quite a catch," Ham agreed. "Kevin Whitby. He's about Euan's age, spent the last few years over in the States in their pitiful League, shouldn't say that of course, but I'm no longer a politician."

Euan rolled his eyes in good humor. "I think this is the time my grandfather would say that never stopped you before."

The older man cuffed the younger on the back of the head affectionately. "Quiet you. Until there's blood, sweat, and tears, I don't want to hear a peep."

"Well, where ever he came from, he's going to do good things," Rose said, gaze going back to the players gathered on the field, celebrating their win. "I mean, I'd interject here and say that Gwenog Jones is one of the greatest seekers of all time and she'll be some heavy competition, but I wouldn't want to be hated on first meeting." She turned bright green eyes back to the two men, grinning lightly.

Euan grinned back. Rose's captain was something else.

Ham laughed. "Gwenog Jones' reputation alone would squish Whitby like a bug. Your captain's status is safe, Miss Zeller."

"I'll be sure to inform her the next time I see her," she replied, turning, leaning back against the seats. "Now, sir, I believe we had some mildly embarrassingly, assuredly hilarious stories to discuss?"

"Or drinks," Euan broke in. "You can't leave a winning game and not go for celebratory drinks." Then again, you couldn't leave a loosing game without drowning your sorrows in a pint or two. Drinkings was most assuredly part of the whole game ritual.

"Oh come on," Ham clapped the auror on the shoulder. "What about the time you walked in on my secretary and her boyfriend in the supply closet?"

Euan blushed. "It was my first time visiting his office at the Ministry and I was looking for the loo," he explained.

Rose's mouth dropped open and her attention turned to Euan. "How old were you?"

"Eight?" Euan guessed. He had been living with his grandparents a fair amount of time, but he hadn't gone to Hogwarts yet. "Seven. Or eight. Or nine."

Laughing, pulling her gloves off and stuffing them in her pockets, she shook her head. "You'd have thought they'd go somewhere more discreet than a supply closet. I suppose, though, when the mood hits, it hits."

She looked up at Hamish, green eyes twinkling. "You didn't fire her, did you?"

"Nah." Ham shook his head, collecting his jacket, scarf, and gloves. "She was too good a secretary for me to fire. She remained with me for the rest of my duration at the Ministry. Though I will tell you that she remained at her desk whenever Euan was about." He smirked at his adopted grand-nephew. "Why do you think I had you about so much?"

"And here I thought you liked my scintillating company." Euan rolled his eyes. "Did you want to go for drinks, Rose? If not to a pub, we could probably stop by a cafe and get hot chocolate or something."

"You know I'm game for anything," Rose answered, grinning up at the two men. "Did you want to come with, Uncle Ham, or do you have many great and wonderous things to do, ex-politician and quidditch star that you are?"

The man looked between the pair and shook his head regreatfuly. "I've got to be heading home. No doubt a few reporters will remember I still exist and will want my opinion on today's game." That and it looked as if Euan wanted his Rose all to himself. Far be it from one Hamish MacFarlan to take away from a young lover's romance. "It was nice meeting you, Miss Zeller. Hopefully this game made Montrose's light shine a bit brighter for you."

"She's a Harpy through and through," Euan said. "Stop trying to recruit her. Besides, the owners don't listen to your opinion anyway."

Hamish's lips pursed. "Perhaps that's part of the problem. Anyway," he shook his head, "we won and there's no reason to lesson the victory."

"Indeed. A great win for Montrose, who are plenty bright," Rose agreed. "And if I hadn't signed with Holyhead, I'd have been honored to play for a team like Montrose."

"Give my best to your grandmother and grandfather, Euan. I'll swing by the Inn sometime during the week. Give a chance for Matilda to fuss over me." Nodding to the pair, Hamish moved into the current of the crowd and was soon swallowed up.

"So that was my Uncle Ham." Euan scratched the back of his neck. "I forgot that he'd be here. Hope he didn't seem too... too..." he searched for the right word. "Uncle Ham like." Despite his protestations, the man was a born politician. He appealed to a vast number of people and could talk to them too. He just didn't have the patience for the physical act of politicking.

"I like him," Rose said, grinning. "He really does seem like an Uncle Ham. You grew up around some interesting people. I'm sure you have stories, too. Maybe you'll tell me some?" She was a large story teller, but loved hearing them just as much as she loved telling them.

"Like what do you want to know?" As the pair moved down the steps, Euan raised a hand to some of the long time former players that had been coached by his grandfather. Not everyone stayed with the same team for their whole career, but there were a few that stuck around for the majority of them.

"What was it like growing up on a pitch? The energy, the people... Gods, the players you were around! I can't even imagine!"

"It was magic," Euan said simply. After life... before, seeing something so green, so alive was something completely unexplainable yet so familiar at the same time that the only word he had to describe the feeling was linking it to magic. "There were some players that payed me no mind and then there were some who thought if they did, they would curry favor with my grandfather. That didn't last long." He shrugged. "Then there were some, those were the ones that were lifers really, that put up with me."

He smiled sadly. "There was one player, Malcolm Cavanaugh, Mal. He was a good bloke."

Pushing through the crush of people, staying as close as she could, Rose looked over at him with soft green eyes. "Was?"

"He died in the war." He bit the inside of his cheek to distract him from other, more painful, thoughts.

"Oh." The word was quiet as it passed her lips. Rose had never really lost anyone, least of all someone she was close to and in the way that people had been lost in the War. She knew she lived a very sheltered life, despite the fire she traveled with, but it still shocked her to know how lucky she was, how long she'd lived free from real pain. "I'm sorry, Euan."

"It's alright," he let out a sigh. "I hadn't seen him often in those last couple years. I'd been away at school and he actually got traded that last year." Euan shook his head to rid himself of the thoughts. Montrose had just won. It was a time for celebration. "I thought I said something about drinks?"

Rose knew she couldn't help Euan forget the pain of his friend's death, but she help put a smile on his face, make him laugh and chase away the sadness. "I believe you did, sir. It's time to celebrate!" Weaving an arm through his, she steered them out of the stadium.

"So what kind of drink?" He asked once they were on the ground moving back to the center of town. "Alcoholic or non?" It was getting chillier now and he pulled his jacket closer to his body.

"I don't think you can properly celebrate anything without at least a nip of something strong, you know?"

"To the pub then." He began to lead them back to the pub they had visited for lunch, though it was a bit more crowded now that the game was over and the home team had won.


Summary: Euan and Rose go to see Montrose play (and win!) and she meets another member of his extended family.