Andromeda was on her feet, cheering. The Harpies were playing brilliantly that afternoon; no one in the crowd would have guessed that the Wasps were actually ahead of them in the league table. It was a brilliant atmosphere, and Andromeda was very glad of the chance to relax a bit, away from the restrictions of her family. She had never been allowed to play Quidditch, but she still loved to watch the game on the few occasions she was lucky enough to escape from her house.

Her mother thought that she had gone to Madame Puddifoot's with Rabastan Lestrange, of all people. Andromeda loathed the man, but it was a deception that suited both of them, Andromeda because a fake suitor gave her some much needed freedom, Lestrange because, Andromeda guessed, he didn't want the world to guess at his lack of interest in marriage. Her mother would be furious if she ever found out, but she thought that she was safe, as long as she didn't bump into anyone at the wrong time. The stakes were too high for Rabastan, although Andromeda couldn't see why it needed to be that way.

But Andromeda didn't have time to think about the woes of life as a Black daughter; the race for the Snitch had begun. The Seekers hurtled across the pitch. They were curving round the edge of the pitch, weaving up and down, inches apart. In the back of her mind, Andromeda knew that if the Wasps' Seeker, Plumpton, caught it, they'd scrape a ten point victory. If Griffiths, the Harpies' new young talent, pulled this off, then her team would be home and dry.

As the Seekers battled on, Andromeda took a moment to glance at the rest of the play, which was continuing frantically. The Harpies were desperate to take the pressure of their Seeker, and all they needed were two more goals. Of course, the Wasps had upped their game too. Andromeda almost laughed when she realised that they had intercepted the Quaffle more times in the last minute than in the preceding half hour.

And then, Andromeda's attention was back with the Seekers. All of a sudden, they were coming right at her stand. She gazed through the air, trying to spot the elusive golden ball, but there was a reason she would never have been a Seeker.

Then, a thud to her ribs, a crack, a sharp pain.

Blackness.

***

Andromeda awoke slowly. The first thing she became aware of was the quietness. After the chaos of the stands, it was a welcome change. The second thing she noticed was the dull ache in her ribs, and the feeling of magic working on them. She automatically moved her hand to meet the affected area and found bandages.

“I'm afraid that's my fault,� said a male voice ruefully.

Andromeda opened her eyes. Looking down at her was a familiar, blonde-haired, blue-eyed face.

“I'm Ludo, Ludo Bagman, the Wasps Beater. It was my Bludger that took you out.�

Andromeda didn't quite know what to say to that, so she deemed it best to say nothing. She recognised him from Hogwarts -- he had been perhaps a year older than Bella -- but she had never spoken to him before.

“Look, I'm really sorry,� he said. “You know what it's like; in the heat of the moment, you'd try anything to save the game, and Griffiths really was very close to you.�

Finally, Andromeda thought of something to say. “Actually, I can't say I do know what it's like; Slytherin girls don't generally get the chance to play Quidditch.� It was, she realised, perhaps an odd thing to raise, but her head felt muzzy and she though it better than remaining silent.

“But surely you can fly?� Ludo asked earnestly.

“I've ridden a broomstick, if that's what you mean,� said Andromeda stiffly. “I don't know if that quite counts as flying.�

“Merlin, that's ridiculous! A witch who isn't even proficient on a broom -- I'm glad I'm a Gryffindor.�

Andromeda raised her eyebrows. Sirius might have been a Gryffindor, but she still wasn't quite convinced it was something to be glad of. She was sure her little cousin was going to get himself into plenty of trouble before he left Hogwarts.

“Sorry, I shouldn't harp on when you're feeling ill. I'll go and get Vaisey, shall I?� With that, Ludo vanished from Andromeda's relatively limited field of vision. She craned her neck after him, but he was out of sight. Wondering what on earth he meant -- she knew of the Vaisey family, but not why one of them would be here -- she tried to sit up. It was a bad move. She hadn't noticed it so much while lying on her back, but breathing was painful.

“I wouldn't do that if I were you,� interjected a gruff voice, “not with what just happened to your ribs.�

Andromeda, having collapsed back down onto the bed, rolled her eyes. She hoped that he had something a little more useful to tell her than that.

“I'm Charles Vaisey, the Wasps' resident healer. You took quite a knock at the hands of Bagman here.� His face appeared above her, silver-haired and careworn.

Apparently not, Andromeda decided. Just her luck. “I can tell,� she said, dryly.

“Yes, well I can up the pain relief, if you like.�

“No, I'm perfectly all right,� she said. Above her, Vaisey turned to look at Bagman.

“We've got a stubborn one, I see,� he sniped.

Bagman smiled magnanimously. “I reckon she's allowed to be a bit grumpy after what I've done to her.�

Andromeda's eyebrows shot up. Grumpy?

“Oh, uh, no offence meant, of course,� burbled Ludo, realising his mistake.

“If you didn't mean any offence, then what else did you mean?� Andromeda pressed.

“I didn't mean -- I don't, um... What I should have--�

She was very close to giggling, this tall Quidditch player standing over her, stuttering like a schoolboy. She didn't though; why give the game away? Instead, she raised her eyebrows and sighed impatiently.

“Look, I really am sorry,� he finally managed with a blush. “If I was going to aim for someone in the crowd, it would have been the old bastard standing next to you.�

Andromeda was surprised, to the extent that a fragment of her pent-up giggle escaped from her lips. She hadn't paid much attention to the man in the neighbouring seat. “What was so offensive about him?� she asked.

Bagman seemed to regain something of his swagger; the awkward schoolboy retreated. “It was nothing personal, you know, just that if he were out of the way, I could have taken his seat.�

The giggles vanished. So that was his game. Andromeda was almost flattered -- he was, after all, a good-looking, professional Quidditch player -- but something about his swaggering assumption put her off. “And why would you have wanted that seat?� she asked, her voice a touch colder.

“Who wouldn't want to sit next to you?� he said with a grin, not noticing the change in her tone of voice.

Oh, how predictable, Andromeda though. “Perhaps a young Quidditch player who was about to have his bollocks hexed off.�

Ludo burst out laughing -- not the reaction Andromeda had anticipated.

“I'm sorry,� he said. “I was trying it on a bit.�

“You don't say,� she muttered, with a roll of her eyes.

“If you don't mind, though, I'd really like to keep my bollocks.�

“I don't exactly have a use for them, so you might as well.� She was, despite her best intentions, softening towards him again. She was far too used to dealing with idiotic propositions from idiotic boys in school; she had learnt to ignore them, and she felt like she should do the same with Ludo. She didn't know why that was proving so hard.

He pulled a chair closer to her bed and sat down, forcing her to twist her neck to see him properly. At some point while they had been talking, Vaisey had wondered off without her noticing.

“Look, I know I've messed this up, and you have every right to hex me, although preferably not in the bollocks, but let me make it up to you,� Ludo said earnestly.

“How?� Andromeda asked. “Unless you can somehow explain the bandages to my mother so that she doesn't find out I was here, I don't imagine there's much you could do for me.�

“Your mother?� Bagman asked. “Where does she think you are?�

“On a date with the lovely Rabastan Lestrange,� Andromeda said wryly.

Bagman raised his eyebrows. “I won't ask. Your mother... She would be Druella Black, yes?�

Andromeda nodded as well as she could while she was still lying down. She was surprised that he knew.

“My dad has connections to your family, I think -- to a lot of people, actually.�

That would explain it, she thought, although she wasn't quite sure why he felt the need to mention it. “Lots of people are connected to lots of other people in our world,� she said sourly.

“But connections can be useful, sometimes.�

Raising her eyebrows, Andromeda waited for him to continue. It wasn't a sentiment she particularly liked.

“Um, I was just thinking that... Well, what if my dad could explain the bandages to your mum, so she wouldn't question you about them?�

“And how exactly would you manage that?� Andromeda asked. She wanted to be pleased -- she was pleased that he was trying -- but her scepticism won out.

“Oh, I don't know,� Ludo blustered. “He's good at that sort of thing, better than me. He'll figure something out.�

Andromeda smiled wryly. It didn't surprise her that his father would be the one to come up with the actual plan. Ludo seemed very nice, charming even, but she was already guessing that he wasn't the fastest broom in the shed. “That would be much appreciated.�

“I'll ask him to have a word then,� Ludo said with a broad, easy smile.

A little something in Andromeda's stomach twisted. She tried to ignore it.

“You know, I'm not entirely sure that's enough to make this up to me.� The words were out of her mouth before she had quite realised how they sounded.

“That's okay then, because I already had another offer in mind,� Ludo said.

“Do share.�

“Let me take you out to dinner, Friday night, perhaps?�

Perhaps it was whatever potion that Vaisey idiot had given her, or the excitement of the match, or the smile of delight on Ludo's face as she said it, but she didn't seem to have proper control of her voice at that moment. “That would be nice,� she replied.

“Then it's a date,� he said with one final, radiant beam.

***

As she sat at her dressing table, waiting for the clock to strike so that she could Apparate without fear of being early, Andromeda though about the note that she had sent earlier that evening. She really hoped that Lestrange wouldn't question it. It merely said, “We are having dinner at seven o'clock on Friday�, in a similar style to most of their exchanges, but tonight was making her uncharacteristically nervous. It was only meal on Diagon Alley, not even at a particularly posh restaurant. She was more than up to the occasion. It wasn't even as risky as her normal trips to watch the Quidditch. At least she would be in the right place for her imaginary rendezvous with Lestrange.

There was something about Ludo that really got to her, though. She knew that, really, he wasn't anything out of the ordinary. It was just something about how little he fitted into her everyday life. She rarely spoke to Gryffindors in school; it wasn't the done thing. She didn't have any friends who were interested in Quidditch, unless you counted being interested in people who played it. She didn't spend time around anyone who spoke so charmingly and unreservedly. Restraint was the order of the day in her circle.

And that was the other thing. His smile. It wasn't the sort that one saw every day. It was better, brighter, more brilliant. It certainly wasn't the sort of smile that was passed around at home. Those smiles were tight, forced, only there for civility's sake. The smile of sympathy that she had received from her mother on arriving home after the Quidditch match had made Andromeda's stomach twist, and not in a good way. She looked forward to seeing Ludo's smile again.

The clock in the hall chimed seven. Andromeda swallowed hard. She had told Ludo that she would meet him at the restaurant. Initially, he didn't seem to realise that if he met her here, her parents would realise instantly that she wasn't spending the evening with Rabastan, but once he had realised his mistake, his embarrassment had been very endearing. That memory gave Andromeda courage; how could he ever make her nervous?




The restaurant, somehow, made it all worse. It wasn't an intimidating place; on the contrary, Andromeda thought that the waitress was a little scared of her. It was a noisy, busy, bright place, just right for Ludo. However, it was a foreign atmosphere for Andromeda. Her family, on the rare occasions they dined out, ate in restaurants with a formal, rather stuffy atmosphere. That's what Andromeda knew. She wasn't quite sure how to behave in a place like this, how to chatter away like the other customers seemed to be doing, how to relax.

It must have showed.

“You know, no one's watching you, Andromeda,� Ludo said kindly as they came to the end of their desserts. “You don't have to sit there like you're still under your mother's eye.�

“I'm sorry,� she said, the words feeling slightly odd in her mouth. “I'm not used to being in places like this.� She took a sip of her wine -- the Muggle version, far stronger than what she was used to, but very drinkable -- to cover her awkwardness.

“But what about Quidditch matches?� he asked. “Surely that atmosphere is nothing like the Slytherin common room or wherever else.�

“Quidditch is different, some how. I don't have to figure out how to behave towards people there because I know no one's watching me.�

Ludo grinned -- not the stomach-flipping smile, but a fairly close approximation. “Who would want to watch you when there was a Quidditch match going on?�

“Exactly,� Andromeda smiled back. “Here, I can't relax in the same way. If nothing else, I've noticed the waiting staff watching us.�

The smile faded from his face, and Andromeda felt hers vanish in parallel. “People have started doing that when they realise who I am. Being a Quidditch player doesn't give you a lot of privacy, even though I'm only really just starting out.�

“It bothers you?� Andromeda asked, slightly surprised. She had imagined that Ludo would enjoy the attention to a degree, even if it made her uncomfortable.

“It's not as fun as you might think.� Ludo, who had been drinking slowly until this point, drained his glass. “Look, how's about we go somewhere a bit quieter, a bit more private.�

“Where do you mean?� Andromeda asked. The rational part of her mind told her that she shouldn't even ask, that it was a bad idea, and irresponsible move. The curious part wanted to see exactly what that big smile could lead to.

“I, um, I meant back home to mine, but if you don't want to, I can just--�

“No, your house would be lovely,� Andromeda told him. It was worth it just to see the smile.

And then they were leaving the restaurant, Ludo tipping heavily, and walking out into Diagon Alley, and Ludo was taking her arm, insisting that they Apparated together, so he couldn't lose her and then she was pressed into his chest. She couldn't breathe for that minute, as they travelled through everything and nothing together. She still couldn't breathe when they arrived in the warmth of his kitchen and she found herself wrapped in his arms, looking up into his face.

They kissed.

She couldn't have found the words to describe it, even if her mouth had been free to do so. Yes, she had kissed and been kissed before, but this, this was something else.

This was standing on tiptoe, stretching up to meet him and feeling the pleasure spread right down to the bottom of her toes. This was being lifted up and placed on a counter top when the space between them started to feel too large. This was enough to make Andromeda Black forget who she was, what she was, and moan out loud for anyone to hear. Except no one would hear because, as Ludo had told her, they had the building completely to themselves.

As his hand slid further down her waist, and hers instinctively chose to mirror them, Andromeda didn't think about propriety, about appearances and reputations and her mother's opinion. Her mind was totally occupied by Ludo, and her luck in having stumbled across him.