#lbagman

Emma thought for a moment. “Do we still get to play Quidditch? I hear the Appleby Arrows are having a good season, though I won’t mind if they trade me to the Harpies or the Wasps.” Her hands tapped on the table, itching for a broom and the Pitch. “I want to play. Just because my future self is retired doesn’t mean I am.”

"I work with your daughter,” Rowan said. Ten seconds later he realized it was probably frowned upon for him to mess with the time space continuum. Oh well. He supposed it was out now. “You and I have never been really close though. I’m not exactly a Quidditch fan.”

“It’s just a little favor Bagman. Isn’t that what you are good for? Favors?” Evan leaned in. “It may be the future, but I still have deep pockets.” No need to mention it was mostly because his son wanted him far away from his wife and was willing to ignore what he did with it. Maybe he was still a Rosier. “And I hear you have a little goblin problem that needs taken care of.”

“For the last time, no. Not in our time, not in anyone else’s, we are not happening!” Mary insisted, storming around the broomstick shop, wishing the manager had not gone to get more broom polish. Not that it would matter. Who wouldn’t be excited to see Ludo Bagman in their shop? They’d probably yell at Mary for being rude. “And don’t think I don’t know you were the one who knocked Tiago Montoya off his broom so he couldn’t make it to our date.” It was probably irrelevant considering their current situation, but she was still bitter about it; Tiago didn’t seem to have made it through the time clash but of course, Ludo had.