Disclaimer: I own nothing and am making no profit

Acknowledgments: Rpeh for the beta work.

11. Golf

Their season continued. The Magpies and the Tornadoes continued to battle at the top of the standings and, despite their best efforts, the Arrows couldn't catch up. They faltered toward the end of the season and fell to fourth in the standings, where they would finish the year. While fourth was a good showing, it also knocked them out of the top three spot required to play in the next European cup and the Team World Cup.

But they did receive an invitation to play in the North American friendly series that summer, which, to Sylvie, seemed like a good chance to see America. She'd been to New York before on a few occasions. It was a common summer getaway destination for her family. But that was the extent of her overseas travel.

Sylvie found the offseason nearly as busy as the season as she volunteered at just about every camp she could. Her performance down the stretch of the season had also earned her some discussion for the Bowman Wright award. Although, like the Arrows, she finished fourth in the voting.

But it was enough to attract more attention from Melanie Durand, whose second-string seeker announced her pregnancy shortly after the end of the season. Sylvie found herself at French National Team practices nearly as much as any other event.

She ran into Rebecca Everly at quite a few of the camps and spent most of her summer hanging out with the Magpie Chaser. Someone at Gladrags noticed and the pair of them ended up doing a clothing shoot, involving surprisingly little clothing, for the company.

It was a bit of a problem, as the media outlets immediately questioned her choices of appearing as a sexual object in magazines while shilling for a clothing company after what she'd been through. But she'd gotten through it by saying she should be able to do what she wanted to with her body. And then she'd avoided further conflict by fleeing to America.

The full team didn't make the trip. Nazar and Button both had commitments with their respective national teams, and Eric Jones wanted to say fresh for the season, so the reservists traveled.

She started, and won, the first game just outside of Washington D.C against the Senators. But the Senators were the best America had to offer and after that Hodge had Grey start the next few matches. The split the middle two matches against Fitchburg and Concorde before Sylvie requested she play against Montreal, wanting to play in her godmother's old stadium.

The Canadians in general seemed disappointed that Button wasn't with the team. But she did her best to be charming in all of the interviews and appearances she did with local sports outlets. And she was the player every outlet requested to talk to.

After Montreal they returned home. Sylvie spent the final month before the new season with her only Quidditch activity being whenever Melanie Durand needed her. She didn't play in any of games for France, or even dress, but she was at every formal gathering of the team.

The Arrows lost Nazar to Caerphilly toward the end of the transfer window. But, in a surprising deal with a record fee for Appleby, added Montrose standout Abigail Jacobs to play between Mills and Linton. Jones announced that it would be his final season as well, and the team rallied around the thought of sending him out on top.

She sat in her locker, chatting with Jacobs as she braided back her blonde hair before practice, when her other locker mate sat to her side.

"Hey V, Abby," Quintus said.

"Oh, we're speaking again?" Sylvie countered. Which she found a little odd, as her brain had told her to say, 'hey Q' but that was certainly not the phrase that came out. And she didn't expect the anger to rise in her.

"What?" Quintus blinked at her, his shirt pulled halfway over his head as he'd started to change. Jacobs peered unabashedly at his chest.

"You haven't talked to me off the pitch since winter," Sylvie countered.

"Ooo, this should be fun," Jacobs said.

"I…thought you wanted space," Quintus said. Sylvie glared at him but Linton spoke before she could respond.

"Hey Princess," the Chaser called. "We need some defenders who will make us feel great about our skills for the warmup."

"Oh haha," Sylvie said as she pulled a practice jersey on over her sports bra, grabbed her broom and started down the tunnel to the pitch. Jacobs followed her.

"What's the deal with Button?" she asked.

"Nothing," Sylvie sighed.

"That didn't seem like nothing," Jacobs said, peering back toward the locker room to make sure they weren't being followed.

"It is," Sylvie sighed. "I'm just being stupid. We're like oil and water around each other. Sometimes my mouth and my brain don't agree on what should be said."

"That happens around hot guys," Jacobs laughed.

"Q? That's gross," Sylvie said.

"Oh, so you two aren't?" Jacobs said.

"God no," Sylvie said.

"Really? After that article and him being the one who was there. And the one who spoke out against Parker," Jacobs said.

"Against my wishes," Sylvie commented. Jacobs shrugged her shoulders as they stepped onto the pitch.

"Well, good to know he's single," Jacobs said. Sylvie narrowed her eyes and glared at the other woman.

"I guess," Sylvie said, not relaxing the glare. But her expression made the Chaser laugh and Sylvie felt like she missed a joke.

"I'm kidding," Jacobs said a knowing smile on her face. "Come on, let's get warmed up."

Jacobs promptly spent the rest of the practice teasing Quintus. So by the end of it, Sylvie decided she liked the new Chaser. And going out dancing over the weekend only solidified that. Soon she was spending most of her off-pitch time with the new Chaser. Linton joined them on occasion. But more often than not it was just the two of them. And, Sylvie thought, it was nice to have a real friend again.

It wasn't very long before how she talked about Abigail Jacobs started to remind her of how her father talked about Titus Button during their early years as teammates. And she rather enjoyed it. It was certainly a positive to have someone with similar interests who was always willing to go out or come over.

Hodge focused on Grey more than her in their first practices. It worried Sylvie, at least until the man seemed to sense it. He took her aside after practice one day and told her he was more concerned with keeping her fresh than how quickly she could perform snitch catching drills. It didn't prevent her from trying to make sure she outperformed Grey in said drills, but it did give her peace of mind.

Quintus, more or less, kept his distance. Although they did at least talk here or there. Mostly just general Quidditch conversation while at their lockers. But it changed to small talk and general pleasantries shortly thereafter.

And she did start on opening night against the Magpies. It was bad luck to draw the league champions in the opening draw for the second year in a row. Without Jacobs, their offense wasn't quite as good as it had been in recent years, but they still dominated the game and Sylvie didn't get the snitch. A four-hundred-point loss was no way to start a season.

But the three-hundred-point win over Ballycastle the next week helped to right the ship. Followed by a string of four more victories vaulting them into second position in the league standings in a hurry.

Grey broke their streak in his first match with a loss to the Wasps. He'd flown well, Sylvie thought, but not well enough as the more experienced Seeker for the Wasps feinted him away from a snitch catch.

She tried her best to cheer him up in the locker room after the game. But it turned on her when he asked if she had plans for that evening and would like to get dinner with him. She blinked a bit, her mind focusing on an excuse to let him down easily. She had to…uh….shit shit shit…she had to help….look around the locker room V….Quintus! Fuck.

She didn't curse aloud, but Grey's frown deepened as he looked over toward the Beater.

"Helping Quintus with what?" Grey asked, sounding mildly disturbed.

"His erectile disfunction, probably," Jones said as he walked by.

"Uncurable," Jacobs said.

"Gross," Sylvie said.

"Maybe this weekend?" Grey asked.

"Uh..Maybe," Sylvie said, frowning and wondering how she would let him down easily.

"Okay. What are you doing with Quintus?" Grey asked.

"What was that?" Quintus said, peering over from his locker.

"You and Sylvie," Grey said. Quintus raised his brows and Sylvie interjected.

"He asked me to help him pick out a gift for his mother's birthday," She said. Quintus raised his brows but seemed to pick it up soon enough.

"Right, let me change and we can pop to London from the Floo," Quintus said.

"Oh, take your time, we can meet later when you're ready," Sylvie said as Quintus threw on his street clothing in an almost comically quick fashion.

"Nah, I'm ready," he said. "Let's go."

"Uh, Okay," Sylvie said, following him out of the locker room. They walked down the hallway for a few moments until Quintus peered over his shoulder back at the locker room, then looked back to Sylvie.

"My mother's birthday is in July," he said. He walked toward the exit of the stadium rather than the Floo and they stepped out into the cool fall air.

"I know. I just didn't want to be mean to Grey," Sylvie said.

"Saying no isn't mean," Quintus said.

"Well, anyway, thanks," Sylvie said. "I'm going to head home."

"Nope," Quintus said.

"What?" Sylvie asked.

"We're going out," Quintus smiled at her. "I figure it should take at least an hour to get a gift for my mother. So, I have you for an hour."

"I should charge for that," Sylvie frowned.

"I make more than you," Quintus teased. "I'd buy far more than an hour."

"Should I be flattered?" Sylvie countered.

"Probably. Anyway, I've got an idea of what should take about an hour. Less, probably, but you know be on the safe side," Quintus said, offering a hand to her as magic filled him. She sighed and took it, feeling herself Apparate with him.

"Golf? Really?" she said when they appeared next to the decorative castle and flag pin.

"Crazy golf," Quintus corrected.

"Why?" Sylvie said, glaring at the muggle activity as it played out before her. A family with two kids rushed in front of them, eager to get onto the course.

"Because it will be fun," Quintus said. "And we can make a wager out of it."

"Oh?" Sylvie said, her competitiveness rising in her.

"Winner buys dinner?" Quintus said. Sylvie raised her brows.

"That's a terrible bet," Sylvie said.

"Hardly," Quintus said, "We'd just argue over who paid anyway. This settles it."

"Assuming we'll go to dinner," Sylvie said.

"We will, we'll be starving after both a Quidditch match and a vigorous game of golf," Quintus said.

"I'll take your word for it," Sylvie said. She stepped around the same family as they emerged from the building with colored balls and putters. She stepped in and paid for the round for herself and Quintus. She took the green ball and putter given to her and tossed the pink ones to Quintus. He rolled his eyes and they took to the course.

Quintus took an early lead. Which, naturally, irritated her. But he obviously had experience and she didn't. Still, it was a fairly simple game, and she picked it up quickly. Back to back hole-in-ones through spinning obstacles and the correct mystery pipe brought her back into the game.

But he won on the last hole. She groaned and threw her putter at him. But, to her annoyance, he caught it without much effort.

"Hungry yet?" he asked as she chucked her ball at him too. He caught that as well.

"I could eat," Sylvie said, begrudgingly.

"Great, I know a fantastic restaurant in London," Quintus said, offering his hand to her again. She frowned at him.

"It's not one with that pompous ass who yells all the time is it?" she asked.

"I dunno, I would doubt it. It's on Brick Lane. It's tiny," Quintus said.

"Curry?" Sylvie asked.

"Yep," Quintus said.

"That actually sounds pretty good," Sylvie admitted. Kreacher, for all of his positive qualities, did not experiment with ethnic food. She took his hand and moments later they were in his house. She raised her brows at him.

"Sorry," he said, moving to the fire place. "I can't Apparate myself to London from there. Much less both of us."

"Wimp," Sylvie said, although deep down she wasn't sure if she could either. But she very rarely Apparated long distances. She peered around his home. It was larger than hers, extra bedrooms and a large foyer and sitting room. She noticed a piano in a front room as well and raised her brows at it before following him to the fire.

They came out in the Leaky Cauldron, drawing a few glances from the patrons there. Sylvie wondered if there would be stories in the paper the next day about the two of them being out and about and how she would explain it to Grey. And then she remembered that he expected it, given it was just a trip to town to buy a gift. And it wasn't like she was going to do anything with Quintus. That was gross.

They drew fewer stares when they went out into Muggle London. Well, Quintus did at any rate. Sylvie continued to turn heads regardless. She smiled at most of the men who stared at her, which typically caused them to blush and look away. She only saw two women hit their partners as she walked by before they apparated closer to their destination.

"Veela," Quintus scoffed and rolled his eyes.

"Hardly," Sylvie retorted. "I'm just better looking than you."

"No argument here," Quintus teased.

The curry house was small, perhaps five or six tables inside. It was full when they arrived but after not too long after they entered a couple left and they found themselves seated at the recently vacated table in the window. Sylvie was pretty sure they'd skipped a few people in queue to get there, and was reasonably certain that the old Indian woman who sat them wasn't doing it because she was pretty. She raised her brows questioningly at Quintus.

"Being a regular has perks," he smiled.

"You often dine in Muggle London?" she asked.

"Sometimes," he shrugged. "Less likely to be bothered."

"I never mind being noticed," Sylvie said.

"I know," Quintus responded. They ordered and Sylvie spent more time looking around the restaurant than at Quintus. But the beater didn't seem to mind. He chatted happily with the waiter when he came over and introduced Sylvie. The waiter smirked at him in a very approving sort of way as he glanced at his date. Sylvie almost spat out that they were just friends but didn't feel like dignifying him with a response.

The food, when it came, was delicious. And Sylvie was hungry. So, she devoured it in a manner that would have probably made Kreacher scold her for being unladylike. But she didn't care. And Quintus didn't seem to notice.

The split some sort of mango dessert thing that Sylvie found herself fighting with Quintus for larger helpings of and they sat at the table for an hour or so after they finished. They didn't talk about much, but neither of them seemed ready to leave.

But they both knew they were overstaying their welcome so Quintus paid, which Sylvie bit her tongue about purely because of the wager, and they departed into Muggle London once more. The two of them walked through the city without saying much. Once, she thought he reached for her hand, but if he had he pulled it away almost as soon as he reached. She wasn't sure what to think of that. Or how she would have reacted to that. She certainly didn't like Quintus. But still, she wondered just what he would have done.

They did eventually find their way back to The Leaky Cauldron. Quintus thanked her for going to dinner and for the walk before taking the Floo to his home. Sylvie stared at it after he left, wondering why that made her feel oddly empty as he vanished. Then she found herself annoyed; he hadn't even had the decency to tease her about her golf game. She made a disgusted noise that she would have never admitted to and returned to her own home.

Kreacher looked a little disappointed that she returned home alone. Sylvie raised her brows, wondering just what the elf's interest was in her bringing a male home but figured she was thinking too much into it. So instead of thinking about it she tossed him onto her bed and pinned him, saying she had no use for other men. The elf squirmed away from her and returned to its nest, muttering something about French women.

Her routine continued. Grey did ask her out that weekend and she couldn't think of a good enough excuse to get out of it. So, she went out with him. But she insisted it was just as friends, despite Grey's frown. And when he tried to kiss her she stopped him.

It made things awkward in the locker room for a few weeks, but then Linton's younger sister came to visit and she thought Grey was incredibly cute. The two of them hit it off immediately and left the locker room together, much to Linton's annoyance. Sylvie and Abigail teased her relentlessly about how her sister was so looking forward to spending time with her.

But they made it up to her by taking her out with them. It was an enjoyable night. Filled with teasing about little Grey fucking her little sister. Linton looked ready to hex them by the end of it. So, they took it as a win.

Sylvie wasn't sure if teasing Grey about it the next day was utterly appropriate. But it didn't prevent her or Jacobs from doing it anyway. He took it in stride, rolling his eyes as they teased him. But he didn't divulge any details of his evening. Not even to Quintus when Sylvie tried to pry. At least assuming Quintus was telling her the truth.

Which she had to assume he was. Because why would Quintus lie to her? She'd kill him if she found out. She paused for a moment at that thought. It seemed slightly excessive, even for her.

The season continued with the Arrows staying hot. Not quite hot enough to make up ground on the Magpies but hot enough to stay near the top of the tables. Hodge continued to have her start almost every league match, while Grey started nearly everything not done in league play. Which included, to Sylvie's annoyance, both international friendlies against the Harriers and Vultures.

Sylvie knew his logic behind it. It didn't really make much sense for her to wear herself out in matches that had no bearing on the league standings. But she wanted to fly against the best. Hodge told her that if she kept performing in league play she'd get her chance to play those teams in games that mattered.

Sometime around Christmas the English National Team announced that Quintus Button would be replacing the retiring beater Jake Dole. It was an off day when she found on the news. She heard Dawes talking about it with one of the coaches as she was doing some calisthenics in the gym.

She ran into him leaving a press conference about it as she was finishing up in the gym and congratulated him on it as they walked back to the locker room. He thanked her without really seeming to realize he was even talking to her. And then, paused and looked over at her.

"You doing anything V?" he asked.

"Getting ready to go home and spend the next hour in a warm bubble bath with a bottle of wine," Sylvie said.

"Can I come?" Quintus asked.

"No," Sylvie responded.

"Want to go get dinner?" he asked.

"No," Sylvie said. "I want to get drunk in my bathtub."

"You can do that after getting a burger with Quintus," Quintus said.

"Or I could do it before and have more time to drink," Sylvie said.

"Yes, but where's the fun in that?" Quintus asked.

"There's plenty of fun that can be had alone in a bathtub, Q, you're obviously not trying hard enough," Sylvie said.

"You'll have to show me sometime then," Quintus teased.

"Now you're trying too hard," Sylvie said.

"I'm mostly trying to get a dinner date," Quintus said.

"Boyle is probably free," Sylvie responded.

"That's not quite what I had in mind," Quintus said.

"I'm sure it's not," Sylvie said.

"If you come out with me, I'll tell you the newest gossip between Mathew and the youngest Linton girl," Quintus said.

"Really?" Sylvie asked, doing her best to not let amusement slip into her voice.

"Oh yes. It's quite good, too," Quintus said. "I'm sure you and Jacobs will be able to have some wonderful pillow talk about it."

"We aren't-" Sylvie said, finding herself affronted by the insinuation. There were certain media outlets that implied it annoyingly often as it was.

"You're not the only one who knows how to tease people," he said with a smirk.

"Were you being serious about Grey?" Sylvie said, finding it hard to resist gossip.

"Yes," Quintus said.

"Fine then," Sylvie said. "But golf first. Different course. One you haven't played before."

"I can think of one," Quintus said.

He took her to one just outside of Appleby proper. It was slightly less crazy than the first one they played but still offered a certain challenge. And, annoyingly, he still won. They wound up at a local restaurant in Appleby.

Quintus devoured a burger while Sylvie picked at a salad, finding herself thinking that perhaps the bath would have been better than any gossip that Q could come up with. And she turned out to be disappointed by that. As none of the gossip was anything past what Sylvie took to be usual uncertainties of a budding relationship.

When she grew bored with him trying to be entertaining, she changed the topic to the National Teams. Which gave Quintus time to gush and her time to bat her eyelashes and act like she was paying attention. When really, all she was doing was imagining receiving the same news as he had.

They didn't stay late. Sylvie went straight home after and did finish her day in the company of her bathtub and a bottle of white Burgundy. It was wonderful.

Quintus surprised her by showing up the next morning. Around the same time he had the year before. She was finishing up her breakfast when Kreacher informed her that the Button boy was there. She went to the door and greeted him with the most caring and polite manner she could muster.

"What do you want Q?" she asked. He wore Arrows workout clothing and smiled at her.

"I missed our runs to the stadium," he said.

"You're the one that stopped showing up," she countered.

"Well I'm here now," he said. Sylvie stared at him and then sighed.

"Give me five minutes to get ready," she said. And closed the door in his face. She spent fifteen minutes getting dressed, which, given that she put on athletic shorts and a long sleeved dry-fit team shirt, seemed excessive. And then another five minutes putting on her sky-blue team trainers.

Quintus was, annoyingly, still there when she checked the door again. So, they jogged to the stadium together. It wasn't unpleasant. And she had no trouble keeping up with him this time. Nor did she feel nearly as winded at practice after.

None of those thoughts surprised her. She knew she was in better shape. Hell, she was in the best shape of her life. She'd been in better shape even before Quintus stopped showing up for her runs. But it felt nice to have it reaffirmed. And, if she was honest, she missed the morning runs too. She wasn't the least bit disappointed when Quintus showed up at her doorstep before every practice.

She found herself mostly with Jacobs or Quintus for the remainder of the year. Things just sort of worked out that way. Their lockers were together and they became quite the trio. Although Jacobs seemed to flutter around to any group she felt deserved her presence.

They did falter down the line. Both she and Grey stumbled late, her against Kenmare and Falmouth, and him to Chudley and Puddlemere. But they'd done enough, when she ended the Arrows season with a snitch catch against Tutshill, she cemented them into third place in the league. Which qualified them for the European cup the following season. Her team swarmed her as the match ended. It would be the first time the Arrows would compete in the premier European tournament in fifteen years.

Hodge gave them a surprisingly lenient offseason to congratulate them. Sylvie still found herself at the team facilities nearly daily for various workouts. Some she did with Jacobs, some she did with Quintus. Either way she kept herself busy and in shape.

Melanie Durand joined her a couple of times. On one of her final ones the French coach ran her through a series of drills that left her surprisingly winded and seemed to go on forever. But she never faltered during them, catching the snitch sized balls that Durand shot at her from all directions at all speeds while avoiding the charmed obstacles attacking her.

When she was sure she was going to fall off her broom Durand blew her whistle and flew up next to her.

"Not bad," the French coach said in her native tongue. Sylvie nodded a bit as she caught her breath.

"Thanks," she responded. She looked around and noticed that Jacobs, Dawes, Boyle and Quintus were all watching from the stands. Jacobs and Boyle were clapping. Durand led her down to the pitch.

"You really are something," Durand continued in French. "No matter what I throw at you, you power right on through it."

"I don't know," Sylvie shrugged. French felt odd on her tongue. As she thought about it, she realized she only ever used the language consistently when talking with her mother or siblings. "I'm pretty sure I was about to fall off of my broom."

"I'm sure you were," Durand said. "But you lasted a full eight minutes longer than Delisle's best time. Let's get back inside. It looks like it's going to rain. Although I suppose England always looks like that."

"Really?" Sylvie asked as they walked up the tunnel to the Arrow's locker room.

"Yes, and that will annoy Delisle when you mention it to him," Durand said.

"I don't talk to Delisle…ever," Sylvie said with a laugh. The veteran Seeker of three world Cups with France and current Seeker for the Lightning did not spend much time in the same circles as Sylvie Potter.

"Perhaps not," Durand said as they entered the locker room. Most of the team had beaten them back into it and were chatting in small group. But the conversation stopped when the French women entered the locker room. Sylvie peered at them, confused, finding their sudden attention to be odd. Not that she minded every eye in the room on her, but it seemed an odd time for it to happen.

Something felt off in general in the locker room so she looked around, trying to place it. She scanned the lockers for anything, but at first it seemed normal. Until she realized that the numbers on the jerseys in the lockers were off. She looked back and scanned it more closely. Her eyes scanned over the one, the two, the eighty-one, the fourteen, then the six of Jacobs. Then it clicked. She didn't wear Fourteen anymore. She hadn't worn fourteen since Wigtown. Her eyes flashed back to it, wondering if it was some type of prank.

But then she noticed that the blue on her Jersey was wrong. It wasn't the pale sky-blue of the Appleby Arrows. It was a darker navy. And she recognized the flag patch on the sleeve immediately. She felt her eyes go wide as she started to hyperventilate.

"There will be an official press release tomorrow, but, Congratulations, Miss Potter," Melanie Durand said in an accented English. And the rest of her team cheered. Jacobs and Boyle hugged her, following by Quintus.

"Oh my God," Sylvie said. Quintus spun her around, he kept his arm around her waist. Part of her wanted to move away immediately, but Durand continued to talk and Sylvie stopped noticing that Quintus was holding her.

"I'll have the schedule and dress code and any other pertinent information sent to your home in the next day or two," Durand said.

"Oh my God," Sylvie said again.

"You earned it, Potter," Durand said with one last smile as she let the Appleby Arrows continue to congratulate their Seeker. Which, Boyle decided, required a night out on the town. They went to a local establishment and told the locals the good news. Sylvie signed far too many napkins, pieces of paper, and posed for too many photos for the course of the night, but she loved every single moment of it.

She drank too much. And danced too much. And was really too much of a spoiled Princess for the evening. But that was what she was the best at. So, she saw no reason in not continuing to be the best at it.

Until she found herself dancing with Boyle. But that only lasted a moment before he pulled her aside. He looked nervous and ran a hand through his hair before speaking.

"Hey Sylvie," he said.

"Hi Boyle!" she responded with a jovial drunkenness.

"I uh," Boyle said, looking away from her.

"What's up?" she asked.

"I need a favor," Boyle said.

"Oookay," Sylvie said.

"So, you'll help me?" Boyle asked.

"Maybe!" Sylvie said. "What's up?"

"I need you and Quintus to go on vacation with me and Cassie," Boyle said. It took Sylvie's addled brain a few minutes to remember that Cassie was Boyle's muggle girlfriend. There'd been plenty of teasing about her existence, until they saw her bartending at one of Boyle's favorite pubs.

"Why?" Sylvie asked.

"Well I booked this treehouse at this amusement park she said she wanted to see and she sort of freaked out about going on vacation together and so I told her not to worry about it, it would be a group thing, and she seemed okay with that," Boyle said.

"Why would that change anything?" Sylvie asked.

"I don't know, but it did," Boyle said. "So, I need another couple."

"Quintus and I aren't a couple," Sylvie said.

"What? Really?" Boyle looked surprised.

"Really," Sylvie said.

"Well, I mean, it would still be fun. And it's just a few days," Boyle said.

"Okay," Sylvie said.

"What, really?" Boyle said.

"Sure," Sylvie said.

"Will you tell Quintus?" Boyle asked.

"Nuh-uh," Sylvie said. "You."

"He might not believe me," Boyle said.

"Risk you'll have to take!" Sylvie giggled before slipping away from him. She didn't remember much more from that night. She was pretty sure Quintus talked to her at some point after that, with a confused expression on his face. And at some point Boyle told her it was all starting on Friday. But shortly after that shy stopped thinking about Boyle, or anything related to Quidditch, and simply enjoyed being the center of attention at her party.