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Trev Scabior sold his scruples for a galleon. (opportunist) wrote in wished,

The World Cup was turning into a veritable gold mine for Trevor and his cohorts. He'd expected all the excited, eager fans to pay off but he hadn't realise how well. And the longer the tourney carried on the more bets people seemed willing to place, almost as if excitement was getting the better of them. Sure, he enjoyed watching England kick international arse but what he really loved was the pile of gold each round brought in.

But as exciting as it was, that wasn't always enough to keep his attention when he'd had a long night and needed a quick nap. A quick nap had turned into almost two hours before Gretchen found him passed out in his chair, Quidditch lineups spread across the desk in front of him. She straddled him and murmured in his ear, more than enough to cause him to wake with a soft grunt. "Like you'd believe me if I said no?" he mumbled sleepily, wrapping one arm around her waist and ruffling his hair with the other.