Rosekiller A-Z

M~ Match

(Au where Wizards use a tiny amount of technology– only at quidditch matches)

It was a tepid midsummer day. Witches and Wizards from every corner of the globe were gathered together in a commute area of Aberdeen for one event only. The Quidditch World Cup final was taking place in the outskirts of this Scottish city between the strong teams of Germany and Ireland.

Tickets were sold out almost immediately after they were put on sale, leaving many Quidditch enthusiasts disappointed. Luckily, there were two boys who wouldn't be part of that group.

Barty, being the son of the head of the department of Magical law enforcement, was guaranteed tickets every year.

This year, his father had given him tickets to the World Cup final. He had been given two tickets, at the wishes of his mother, so that he could bring a plus one. He quickly decided that there was no other person he would rather bring than his boyfriend, Evan Rosier, much to his father's dismay.

Evan agreed to go, not wanting to let down his Bee. He was not personally a fan of Quidditch himself. It wasn't a sport his family had been keen on, in fact, his family was not keen on any sport. They were much more interested in literature and etiquette.

There was a clear comparison between the two boys. Barty could list off Quidditch players like his life depended on it, while Evan could read off paragraphs of Greek, Latin and Italian. However most of the time, his life really did depend on it. If he did not memorise the lines, he would get a whack with the fire poker, or, in more serious cases, cursed. Though that was a story for another day.

He was glad that Barty wanted to spend time with him and he wasn't going to turn down the opportunity to spend a whole day and night with his boyfriend.

The match set off in full swing later that afternoon. Celebratory costumes were being worn, and smoke was shooking from every given direction. The boys took their seats near the ministers box, where Barty's father glared daggers into the backs of their heads.

The Irish team flew into the arena in a flash of green, white and gold. Cheers erupted from the waving crowd. The German team, too, also got a standing ovation.

Barty, among the crowd, was standing on his chair, his hands raised above his head.
Evan, who had remained seated, gazed up at him lovingly. He adored this side of Barty, adored when he let himself relax and enjoy himself to the full extent. When the brunette jumped down from his position on the chair, he caught eyes with his boyfriend and beamed. He shone him a smile that made Evan want to kiss him. However, Evan didn't want to get further into Mr Crouch's bad books as the man still kept his son in his sight, only occasionally looking up at the game.

The score was 40/60 to Ireland when the Clarkson sounded for halftime (A/N: I know they don't have halftime breaks in Quidditch but just roll with me)

Many spectators had risen from their seats to stretch their legs, while others took drinks to soothe their throats, which had become raw from the cheering. In the meantime, a kiss cam had been set up as a temporary form of entertainment. The camera spun around the arena, catching unsuspecting people, who were chanted at to kiss.

Not that Evan was really paying any attention to it. He was busy holding Barty's Cup while the latter mouthed insults up at his father. Suddenly, the camera landed on the most unsuspecting couple of all. The crowd started chanting, with many whistling and laughing. Evan felt sorry for whoever these poor people were, being forced to– 'Oh.' He thought as he stared at the screen. His was met with his own reflection. He nudged Barty in the ribs.

"Ow! What?" He complained, turning to face his boyfriend. Evan pointed at the camera which was stopped infront of them.

The chanting had became more loud and aggressive, with many spectators growing impatient.

Evan was embarrassed, to say the least. He had tried waving the camera away, but it hadn't budged one bit. It wasn't that he didn't want to kiss Barty, but he didn't want Barty to suffer the consequences. Not when his father was sitting right above them. He glanced over at his boyfriend, in the hope that he may be able to get the camera away. Instead, he was met with  amorous eyes. Barty nodded quickly and waited for the go ahead from Evan. The blonde was hesitant but soon nodded back.

Within seconds, Barty swung his leg across Evan's lap and straddled him. He locked his arms around his neck. The crowd cheered in triumph, all except one. Mr Crouch sat in a rage full silence. His face wore an expression of absolute disgust and livid rage. The couple kissed for a little while longer, the chatter and celebrations of the spectators becoming nothing but white noise. They broke away and soon the focus of the crowd was no longer on them.

Evan looked up at the Ministers box only to lock eyes with Mr Crouch. All the colour drained from the young boy's face.

"Bee." He warned the boy on his lap. "Your father is staring at us."

Barty turned his head to the Ministers box as well. He stared his father down with a stare of utter disrespect. He stuck up his middle finger and leaned down to snog Evan again.

"Barty! He'll kill you!" Evan whispered not so quietly, so to be heard over all the noise.

Barty smirked. "Don't worry, my Rose. The worst he'll do is slap me. I'll be fine!"

This put Evan at ease, which he felt horrible about considering what Barty had just said. He wasn't going to kill him but he was still going to cause him harm. Barty noticed his uneasiness. He cupped Evan's face in his hands.

"Rosie, look at me. I will be fine. Don't worry your pretty little head about it." He said, his tone soft and tender.

"Yeah. Yeah, okay. If you're sure."

The Clarkson sounded, signalling that halftime was over. Players from both team made their way back onto the pitch.

"Now, C'mon. We need to watch the game again."

Word count: 1075

I'm so sorry that this one was so bad 😭
I didn't really have any idea or motivation for this prompt.
As always, thanks for reading!