InsaneJournal

the intrepid greta d. l. catchlove (

minxery) wrote in

LUDO!
Victory was sweet.

The celebrity Quidditch game had quickly become one of Greta's favourite pastimes, greatly helped by the fact that every year she had participated, her team had won. Enough familiar faces were asked back that they had begun to work like a well-waxed broom together. She absolutely loved the sport, and getting to play it in front of such outrageous professional talent was always thrilling. Winning in front of said outrageously professional talent was even sweeter, of course. Not that anybody liked a sore winner.

But speaking of sweet victory, she was finding it even sweeter when followed by utter chaos. Greta had gotten in a very satisfying squeeze of a certain area on Gabriel Corner's person (and glowing blue proof), and she was fairly certain that was Peter Fitzwilliams's handiwork trailing dangerously low on her back, which was enough for her to declare this the best party ever, as far she she was concerned.

Currently, she was involved in a game of hide-and-seek with some of the Stingers, Bees, and general raucous party-goers, except there seemed to be no official seeker, and no real rules—essentially, people were just hiding and trying to get the jump on everyone else. It was brilliant.

As far as hiding places went, lurking behind a column was not a brilliant one. But since she'd donned a stole that she had procured (stolen, perhaps) from the cloakroom, most of her tell-tale paint splatters were covered. So when she noticed a figure lingering nearby, she dipped her hand into her cup of paint, feeling quite smug as she circled around the column to approach the dark silhouette from behind. "I'm armed and dangerous," she warned with a grin on her face as she turned, faltering when she realised it was Ludo in front of her.

Greta was quite certain he hadn't been playing. "Oh," she said, slightly startled, lowering her dripping pink fist. "It's—hello."

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