The Holyhead Harpies' seeker had caught the snitch a minute into the game, leaving a stadium full of supporters breathless. Eager to celebrate and probably a little hungry for more of their favorite sport the celebration went on into the night.
It seemed every tower of bleachers had been converted into a different pillar of celebration. From one loud music could be heard, a riot of green and yellow danced as if everyone had forgotten how to stand. In another pillar chants were being sung, leaving everyone who stood in the tower long enough with a case of tinnitus. Albie's tower was a little more tolerable. Those in attendance held a glass of liquor in their hand while they chatted enthusiastically about how much the game had made them won. It seemed all of those who had bet on a quick win by Wales' team had found themselves in the same quarters.
Proud of his own winnings Albie had downed a few drinks making him a little more loquacious than usual. He was chatting with a group of female investors, interested in their investments especially those in the quidditch world. That was how the conversation had started anyways, now it seemed that it had veered from business and sounded a little more like flirting. Not that the two were very different.
"Let me get you another," Albie offered when he noticed that one of his new friend's drink was almost done.