Something warm curled low in her belly when he shifted subtly that little bit closer, though her mind warned her that she was playing with fire. Girlfriend. He has a girlfriend. Mustn't forget that.
Genevieve tipped her head back slightly and laughed, raising her drink a bit in a toast. "And give them a show, we did!" she agreed enthusiastically. God, but she loved Quidditch, loved this camaraderie that was so easy to find with others who played or were involved in the sport professionally.
"He did, yes, as if he hasn't done that enough times before!" Breaking his nose was something Viktor was all too good at griping about. The man wasn't dating himself that much, in her opinion. "I remember it too! 'Course, I was still at Beauxbatons, but even then, I paid close attention to the professional teams on the continent." She'd known all the teams, their players, stats, and all, and when Viktor had joined up with Vastra, it had been impossible not to notice him. "I remember the first time I played him - talk about being star struck!" she admitted with another light laugh. They'd been rivals on the pitch in Europe for years before both ending up with the Magpies a couple years ago.
She listened to the by-play between Oliver and Mark, shaking her head in amusement and then glancing at Oliver with a quirked brow. "The enemy, hmm? I suppose I ought to take my ale somewhere I'll be more welcome, then?" She was teasing, but there was something more under it, a hint of challenge, a hint of disappointment. Even if nothing actually happened with him, she was enjoying the company.