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JEREMIAH!
Billie couldn’t remember the last time she had been this happy. She knew she wanted to be a Quidditch player since the first time she had mounted a broom, and had been working towards this day – this very moment - for as long as she could remember. Her time spent in France had only helped her prepare for the British League, knowing the competition to be much fiercer back in her home country than overseas, though that level of competitiveness also came with additional pressure to succeed. Playing for the Magpies hadn’t panned out as well as she hoped it would, but her move to the Arrows proved to be a great success.

They had just won the League Cup – a symbol that proved that during the 1984 season, they were the best of the best. The idea was bewildering, but for the first time since the beginning of her career, she wasn’t minding the media attention she was getting. They were calling her a champion - well, they were donning out the title to the entire team, but they had all earned it through blood, sweat and tears.

Sipping at her drink, she finished off the last of what was left in her glass before heading back to the bar. On her way to get a refill, she spotted the Quidditch player she had been speaking to through journals just after finishing the game that won them the cup. She stepped up next to him, her body angled towards him as she rested her elbow on the bar top.

“Did you come to celebrate, or are you just here for the open bar?” She teased with a small smile. She was a little buzzed, and while it helped that she was in an extremely good mood, she always found it much easier to approach people after ingesting a bit of liquid courage. Billie was never