It wasn't that Geoff liked talking to sports writers, persay - it was just that he'd spent most of his life being groomed to be a professional Quidditch player. He'd spent much of his childhood hearing about the terrible players who put too much of their 'negative' personal life out for the rest of the world to see, subsequently ruining their careers forever. Now every time he wanted to do something that he knew would be frowned upon by the press, he heard a little voice in the back of his mind (either his sister or his mother) reminding him of just how important reputation was.
Not that she had much say in that last department considering the father of her child, but -- well, he'd kept quiet about it. It was stupid that his sister's one silly mistake had to ruin the rest of her life. She seemed happy now, and that was what he'd really been worried about with all the silliness with Braith.
Well, that and the idea that the man might one day come to his house and beat him to death with nothing more than his bare fists, but he wasn't about to admit to that last part. He -- had his own problems with the Death Eaters that prevented him from staying out of their business completely, but he had been trying to work on his gambling problem so that he didn't have to worry about digging himself an even bigger hole. Having Savannah around as a distraction (and someone to spend his hard-earned money on) had been a huge step in the right direction as far as Geoff was concerned.
He smiled, turning toward the writers and giving a helpless half-shrug as he let Savannah pull him away. "Well, I can't in my right mind neglect my date. Sorry! We'll have to finish up that story later, though." He turned to Savannah once he'd gotten himself far enough away from the group of reporters that he'd no longer have to worry about them being within earshot.
"Thanks for the save, Sav."
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