Re: Ron and Tate
It had likely been a terrible idea for Tate to come to the finales, but one of his sketchier friends had been able to get their hands on a ticket for him and really? How could he turn that down? He had made a promise to himself though, he would do everything in his power to avoid the booze. There was bounds to be tons of celebrating and mourning, there would be plenty of booze for him to get his hands on if he wanted. He was just going to have to work on his self control and say no. At least, try to say no.
The game was getting intense, and though Tate wasn’t the biggest Quidditch fan, he was finding himself getting into the game. He had been walking back towards his seat, his eyes glued to the game, when he ran smack into someone else. Blue eyes went wide as they turned to see who he had ran into, he hoped it wasn’t some woman in a dress. That was the last thing he needed, knocking over some poor woman that had just been here to enjoy the game with her husband or something.
Relief flooded through him as he saw a familiar face, his own lopsided smile gracing his face as he just hugged Ron. It wasn’t a usual Tate thing, he didn’t hug people often without their permission. He just felt such relief that it wasn’t some man that would knock his block off, he wanted to hug his friend. “It’s good to see you! I didn’t know you were coming!!!” While Tate was still dealing with all of his withdrawals, he was under the care of Emilia and his own doctors. He was feeling better, his face didn’t hold all the battle wounds from Tate fighting with the pavement, so life was good.