She wasn't sure how long they played, but they had to call and end to it when the sun started to go down and the light faded. They'd switched at some point from tag to catch, with an old Quaffle, and then raced each other to exhaustion. Belle wasn't entirely sure she might not have run some of the power out of her broom, which was practically an antique by her time.
They came down on the edge of the pitch, panting and sweaty, and Belle wiped stray strands of hair out of her face. "Oh my god," she laughed, reaching for the hem of her jumper to take it off. It was colder now in the evening but she was sure her face was bright red with heat. "I think we might have missed dinner."