"Well cheers to being a good sport." Oliver smiled warmly, moving aside to give Gen more room at the table they'd piled around.
"That was such a crazy move!" Jenn, Puddlemere's publicist and Oliver's handler, gaped at Genevieve. "How did you manage to trade brooms like that?"
"Bloody brilliant." A tall man with glasses agreed, raising his glass in a toast to the chaser.
"You should try playing against her," Oliver chuckled, taking a long, slow sip from the ale and closing his eyes lazily. Merlin, that hit the spot. The dark blue eyes opened at the mention of Terence, though an older man standing across the table spoke up first.
"He's well. Hit his head fairly hard, some other breaks and scrapes but those can be healed with time." He smiled at Genevieve. "And Viktor?"