He looked at his mate, smirking when the V word started to escape his lips. Whatever happened on Diagon Alley, stayed on... erm.. .Diagon Alley. Apparently. “That's a bit of a cheat, innt?” He questioned seriously. “Distracting the male players like that?” because both he and Tristan knew what is was to fall under a Veela's spell. Imagine trying to concentrate on Quidditch with those lovely ladies working their.. er... magic on you. Gulp.

Swift change of subject there from Tristan – thank merlin.

He held the bag to Tristan so he could take one of the sticky, melted sweets. “Anyone else?” He offered the ladies and Rico in the press box. He gratefully accepted the butterbeer – it was a hot day and the walk over here had left him thirsty. He uncapped the bottle and took a large swig. “Ah.” He breathed...that was lovely and refreshing.

He leaned forward in his seat and peered down at the little man on the pitch.. then the next thing he knew the match had started. Merlin's pants, they'd cut it fine getting here on time! He laughed at Tristan and joined in the jovial mick take. “GO GO MEXICO!” He hollered. Heh. Soon the silly songs would begin when the game got into full swing.

He took another well deserved swig from his bottle of butterbeer and watched the proceedings on the pitch thinking he would quite like to see the Ozzies do well. He had lived there for a while when he was younger and almost stayed. But still, he wasn't going to say it aloud in case he offended his English colleagues.