WHO: Lydia Proudfoot and Henry Wadcock
WHAT: Meeting at a game gets messy
WHERE: Magpies Stadium!
WHEN: This past weekend. Or so >>;



Lydia had promised that she would go to Seth’s little Quidditch match. It wasn’t out of entirely selfless intent, of course. She had a suspicion that there might be some eligible bachelors pumped full of testosterone and ready to have a go at her. She was a big fan of enthusiasm, after all. It was definitely a turn-on.

She shifted in her seat and pulled her scarf a bit more tightly around her neck, bringing a fingertip up to wipe a smudge of lipstick off the top of her mouth. She wasn’t exactly paying close attention to what was going on on the field, but she was paying enough attention to know if ‘her team’ score. A moment later she glanced to the man sitting next to her, flashing him a brief smile.

“So, who do you know who’s ‘important’ enough in the Magpie circle to pick up your ticket here?”

Henry dropped his omnioculars to send a quick glance at the woman. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t noticed her before this instant, she was very hard to miss, but her question startled away any curiosity he may have been harboring about her. Henry was very proud of his achievements, and he nearly scoffed at the idea of having to be given an invitation to sit in this seat box.

“I’m here on my own merit,” he snipped, looking down to his program to make sure that they had updated Seth and one of his other client’s biographies. It was true. He was one of the top agents in the league, even if one of his clients wasn’t playing, players on the roster wanted him in the stands to give a good impression, they wanted to speak with him after the match, they wanted to talk about when after their contract was up to see what they could formulate with him.

He was here, of course, to make sure that Seth went straight from the locker room to the floo port and not answer any questions. His brother was an idiot, hot-headed Gryffindor who had his child’s mother harassing him for custody rights. Until that got settled, Seth was going to go nowhere near the crazy woman and Henry was going to make sure of that. As quietly as possible and without Seth actually finding out that he was the reason he had managed to avoid the nut job.

“Are you enjoying the match?” he asked, not concerned with which player she might be hanging on the arm of this week. These players were notorious for their flings.

Lydia was fairly certain that she knew who he was. It wasn’t that she was familiar with Quidditch players, but she WAS familiar with agents. Even if they weren’t Quidditch agents -- it was always good to know who was out there. Everyone knew that modelling agents who ended up landing women Quidditch pitch shoots had to know someone ‘on the inside’.

So...did she see something of an opportunity in the man next to her? Perhaps. Perhaps she was also completely and utterly sick of men doing exactly what she told them to because they were too intimidated or guided by their cocks. Intriguing.

She shifted very slightly to the side so that her knee was touching his thigh. Not so much as to be completely obvious, of course. She reached down to gently rub her ankle -- he could just assume she was adjusting her position.

“Oh, of course you are. As am I.” She could land tickets to most major Quidditch games at the drop of a hat. She’d yet to score an endorsement with anyone, but she wasn’t very ‘into’ the idea of being down and dirty in the actual dirt. Lydia slid off a glove and offered him a well-manicured hand.

“Lydia Proudfoot.”

His hand struck out immediately, not looking to be overly rude, “I’m Henry,” he said, almost subconsciously dropping his last name because of all the attention it brought when he was in Magpies Stadium. The people behind him never hesitated in ‘overhearing’ him, and then they’d start commenting about how he does look like Seth Wadcock! How exciting! Maybe Seth would waved toward him during the game? Could he get them into the press room, or even better, the clubhouse?

Henry took the moment to finally catch her eye, and with the name, he knew that he had seen her before. In magazines, at parties, he knew Lydia Proudfoot’s face and style, and wondered briefly why he hadn’t noticed her before. She had been sitting next to him for nearly the entire match, but he supposed he had been writing in his journal to his business associates for nearly the entire match (he had bought a smaller, personal journal for those kind of matters). He should probably pay attention to his surroundings more often.

“You didn’t answer my question,” Henry noted lightly, tilting his quill at her. A smirk slid onto his face; these seats were usually reserved for people who wanted to be seen, not those who actually came to watch the match, “Are you enjoying yourself?”

She arched her brow at him. He was honestly going to repeat his question about whether she was enjoying herself? They both knew that this place was not for the sort of people who actually wanted to watch Quidditch matches.

“Oh, of course. The Magpies are certainly the prettiest team, hands down.” This time Lydia couldn’t hide her smirk. She was sure that Henry would at least get a small kick out of her calling his brother ‘pretty’. Seth did have very feminine cheekbones, after all. And his eyes...well.

She wasn’t about to point out any similarities she might have noticed between Seth and Henry. That was probably not the best course of action to take with him. Instead, “But I think that I am paying as much attention to this whole thing as you are. I usually bring a magazine, to be honest.” Lydia paused.

“Or sunglasses. But it’s getting to be out-of-season for those, sadly.”

Henry nodded, a smile actually stretching across his face. He would normally be annoyed by the comments on how...pretty his brother might be, but there were other players on the team that she could be gawking at. The ‘pretty’ factor had definitely gone down on the Magpies since Fawcett had left, but Henry appreciated that move all too much; it made getting Seth back into captain-like shape much easier. Or, as easy as his tabloid-magnet of a brother would let it be.

“I’m actually working,” he said, waving his small journal slightly. Henry couldn’t remember the last time he’d gone to a quidditch match just for fun; probably at Hogwarts when he was hoping for Slytherin to crush Gryffindor. “I’m a--”

He let out a shout as the fan behind him spilled their red slush shake right down Henry’s back. The curses he spat were lost in the roar of the crowd, and Henry jumping up in shock only seemed to be because the Magpies had just scored. He frowned greatly and made to pull out his wand, but remembered the restrictions on wand use in the stands---he had to go out to the pavilion with all the concession stands to use a cleaning spell.

“Ex--cuse me,” he let out as he stood uncomfortably, the cold of the drink making him shiver under his cloak.

And to Lydia’s credit, Seth wasn’t the only one who she was gawking at. She appreciated beauty in either sex as long as she felt that they were worthy of her attentions. She had no opinion of Seth either way as a Quidditch player, although the fact that he was a bit of a media darling amused her to no end.

Even she sometimes had enough sense to know when enough was enough in the media. She might’ve appeared scantily clad in magazines, but that was part of her job. She tried to keep her serious personal life out of the spotlight for obvious reasons. John had been a ... long-standing, very painful mistake in her life. She wasn’t about to let that leak out to the public.

When the man behind them spilled his drink all over Henry’s robes, her eyebrow rose in interest. How was he going to react? Hmm. Lydia fixed her eyes on Henry and the man before her, eager to take in what was going to happen. After all, it was much more interesting than any silly Quidditch game.

The cold was quite irritable.

“I need to go clean this mess up,” he said through clenched teeth. As much as Henry wanted to smack the fan upside the head for his carelessness, he knew that starting a fight in the crowd, causing a scene would only cause him more grief in the long run. Of course it would be revealed that he was Seth’s brother, Henry could read the headlines now! Wadcock Blood: Two Hotheads in One Family! No. He did not need any more attention on him or Seth. He did not need to go against every one of his rules, and he did not need to give his brother any ammo against him. Oh, the taunting he would endure if he got some bad publicity---

Henry made to collect his things, trying his best not to squirm at the feeling of the shake against his back and shirt. He turned to Lydia, the thought that she must have some tricks up her sleeve to staying so perfectly chic, “Any advice?”

So, much more level-headed than her brother. Lydia might’ve thought this was boring in most men, but the fact that he had gotten so offended when she’d asked him who he ‘knew’ to be here intrigued her. People as full of themselves as Henry (and probably Lydia herself, in all honesty) needed to stick together and make the rest of the world feel inferior.

And if this was indeed Seth’s brother Henry, then he was as good at his occupation as she was at hers. The idea of having both of the brothers’ notches on her proverbial bedpost was something that was undeniably appealing as well, of course. When he asked her about the spells, Lydia smirked.

“Of course, darling. I will have to come with you, though...” To a place where they could at least use spells.