Author notes: Originally written as a present for Jean when I first met her in August 2006. Of course, I ended up desperately scribbling down the last lines as the plane ended in her airport, and it was never meant to be a masterpiece, naturally; it was actually just to complement a picture she had previously drawn, and to which I would link if fanfictionDOTnet didn't SUCK SO MUCH. …You can see it on the Livejournal community of integralunderscoreart, a post made on this date.

(By the way, you can check the Lexicon/Quidditch Through the Ages to see that I'm not making the details on the Ballycastle Bats up. It's awesome.)


"Sir Integra, forgive me, but I must ask again – are you certain you want to do this?"

Integra, sitting on the edge of the car seat, peered through the tinted window at the crowds of people milling around outside. "I haven't been to a Quidditch match since I was twelve, Walter. Just be back here at the same place at five o'clock."

There was an audible sigh from the driver's seat. "Yes, madam."

Her hand already pressing on the door handle, Integra spared a glance behind her at the vampire leaning back in the middle of the seat, his face shaded by his hat. "Alucard, begin the illusion now."

As distracted as she was, she could feel his smirk before he answered, "You may step out anytime, master."

The crowds around the stadium were quite thick, but no one noticed the door of the Rolls Royce open and feet in pink flip-flops emerge, quickly followed by a girl with long blonde hair, an overlarge orange sweatshirt emblazoned with two Cs, and pale green shorts. Nor did anyone see the tall, pale man in a red hat and trench coat who exited after her and shut the door. It was only when the Rolls Royce had driven away, and the girl and vampire were in the crowd, that anyone looked at her at all – and even then, something much more interesting caught their eye right away.

All the entrances into the stadium were lined on either side with stalls selling merchandise, food, and drinks. Integra stopped at one to purchase a tall foam cup of hot water, which she handed to Alucard to eliminate any chance of accidental spills as they maneuvered through the noisy, careless crowd.

She and Alucard climbed up the three flights of stairs to their seats, which were in a private section of the stands, made for only about twenty people, usually a private party. This afternoon, Integra and Alucard were the private party; she had bought the entire section.

The teenage attendant on the landing briefly examined her tickets, then looked distractedly down to the crate that was being carried into the middle of the field. "Enjoy the game, ma'am."

"Thank you," Integra answered, stepping smoothly around him and up the benches, to the middle of the stands. Alucard followed her closely and settled down directly behind her.

The air above the field was still empty; there was only the flash of advertisements running across the scoreboard and the happy buzz of the audience in the stands around her. Integra couldn't help but be conscious of the tense knot in her stomach. It was ridiculous, especially after how determined she had been with Walter about wanting to do this. …Except it already felt so, so different from how she remembered – though of course, she wasn't with her father now. Only a vampire, because Walter had insisted Alucard go with her "just in case." It was an overcast day, anyway, he couldn't complain about it.

The vampire in question produced a teacup and a tea bag, which Integra accepted, dropping the bag into the hot water and leaving it to steep.

The Holyhead Harpies began their pre-game laps around the stadium, and the ball of nerves in Integra's stomach eased up. She couldn't help but lean forward and smile as the team member's names were dramatically announced, accompanied by heartfelt cheering.

"I never thought you would be such an enthusiast of the sport, master."

"It's the Holyhead Harpies," she said matter-of-factly, never taking her eyes off them as they looped suddenly backwards, in wide arcs, down the field. "My father used to take me to their matches as often as he could, and when he couldn't I'd listen to them over the wireless. That was how I decided they were my favorite, anyway. I haven't been able to keep up with them so well over the last few years, of course, but I check the newspaper for the scores as often as I can. They're a brilliant team, particularly since Morgana Rookwood became Captain six years ago." Integra found herself oddly breathless – but she was feeling excited and nervous, more than she had thought she would be. However, there were an awful lot of memories and subconscious connotations with being in a Quidditch stadium again – she could almost hear her father's voice beside her rising in excitement, then letting out a shout when there was a score. It had always delighted her to see her father so happy and carefree, and Quidditch games were therefore among her favorite memories. Integra inched forward on the bench as she absent-mindedly tugged on the cuffs of her sweatshirt.

"That shirt does not seem to be in support of your team," Alucard observed.

Integra stopped fidgeting with the material to lace her fingers around her knee. "It was my father's." But Alucard could probably tell that by the smell. "The last Harpies shirt I have doesn't fit me at all." She turned her head to look back at him, as the Ballycastle Bats were now putting on their show. "I suppose you know the history of why we support the Chudley Cannons?"

Behind his glasses, Alucard raised his eyebrows at her. "I don't believe your forefathers ever got around to explaining their Quidditch preferences to me."

Integra did feel momentarily surprised – after everything that had passed between him and her great-grandfather…. "Well," she said, leaning back with one arm on Alucard's bench, "the Cannons really did have an impressive reputation, up until 1892. Abraham was quite an enthusiast about them, despite his being Dutch, and even when they started losing…so it's been a sort of tradition, after him, to continue supporting them. Not always in public," she added, lifting her hand from the bench to raise a finger. "But we do."

At this point the referee released the Snitch, Bludgers, and tossed up the Quaffle, and Integra's attention was wholly transferred to the game beginning in the air before her.

When the first foul was called, she sat back and fill the teacup from the foam cup.

"I rather like the style of the Ballycastle team," Alucard remarked. "At least in their uniform."

Integra raised her eyebrows as she set her cup down, and leaned against Alucard's knee as she informed him, "They're fruitbats, you know. See, there's their mascot. Barny the Fruitbat. And they are obviously no match for the Harpies."

"Your team does seem to have an aggressive approach to the game."

"Yes, they do," said Integra happily.

Twenty seconds later, the Holyhead Harpies made their fourth score. Integra nearly upset her teacup in demonstrating her approval, and it was only saved by Alucard's outstretched hand. Quigley, the Ballycastle Bats captain, made somewhat of a scene about whether or not it was fair for one Chaser to fly towards a goal hoop, screaming nonsense that may or may not have concerned the Keeper's genitals to distract him while the Chaser with the Quaffle scored. The restart of the game was delayed, and Integra took the opportunity to lean back again against Alucard's knee, tilting her head backwards to grin up at him, and he replied with a look of both amusement and resignation.

During halftime Integra recounted to him the unforgettable match in 1953 of the Harpies against the Harriers, describing the finishing gesture in great detail. Alucard listened with grave interest, and afterward ventured a comment about how he had known better timing than that, and Integra laughed aloud.

It really wasn't so bad, Integra decided, as the match began again and a Bludger smashed into Barny the Fruitbat, leaving him quite crippled and the Harpies and their fans overjoyed, even as the third foul was then called on the Harpies Beater. It wasn't the same as the old matches with her father, but this wasn't actually any less enjoyable. Just…different. She liked being here with Alucard, as much as she would never admit it to him or anyone. And it was an awfully good match.