golden snitches get stitches [Mickey]

[Raphael Caelan McLaggen]

21 February 2026

Happily Ever After Pizza Emporium. Rafe was a little skeptical of Hogsmeade’s newest shop – not because he didn’t think pizzas were the perfect happy ever after, because they definitely were – but because it seemed like the kind of place that had the potential of becoming the new Madame Puddifoot’s. A love fortune with every pizza? That was the last thing Rafe wanted to think about at the moment, if only because his love life had become a shoddy mess over the last year. In fact, insinuating it was alive in any form was overly optimistic, since Addy had made her stance pretty clear – schoolwork came first, and she wanted to be friends.

As hard as Raphael was trying to respect that, even when it included outrageous lies on his part, it meant he wasn’t in the mood for anything of a romantic nature. Still, he couldn’t think of anything that could kill the mood faster than going with your brother, and pizza was still one of the best things ever…so here he was. The McLaggens weren’t exactly the perfect family – far from it – but the last few years had taught Rafe to value his siblings. When he’d first started at Hogwarts, Rafe had been desperate to be sorted into Gryffindor and win the Keeper spot on the House team. Not because he was particularly crazy about red or Quidditch, but because…well maybe it would finally have been enough to get their dad’s attention. After none of those things had happened, he’d resigned himself to being third-best. Cormac McLaggen had caught the snitch on his first try after all – Mickey was a perfect mini-model and everything he could hope for in a future family Quidditch legacy (mini being figurative of course, because his brother was somehow even taller than Rafe). And Ella had seemed to be the perfect back-up.

It had actually taken her dramatic decision to run off to the circus for Rafe to reconsider that maybe his siblings weren’t perfect carbon copies of their dad, after all. At least she wasn’t. And as easy as it seemed for Cormac to forget he had a third child sometimes, he still wanted to have something with his older brother and sister. February’s Hogsmeade weekend seemed like the perfect opportunity. Rafe slouched in his seat as if that would help him appear smaller as he squinted at the menu. He was just debating how seriously to take the name ‘You’re The Missing Pizza’ (And I love every pizza you too!) when he caught sight of Mickey. “Hey,” Rafe mumbled as he straightened slightly. He felt so awkward around his family, which was a stark contrast to how comfortable he'd become over the years around Addy and Brígh. “Hope this is…okay. I don’t think they’re all about love,” he added, fidgeting with the menu before pointing out ‘Another One Bites the Crust.’ “That one doesn’t seem too bad.”

michelangelo tiberius mclaggen

[michelangelo tiberius mclaggen]

▲

Mickey needed a break. The Quidditch season was going, and that was basically all he could feel about it. Every match, win or lose, weighed down on him. He wasn’t sure if it was because he feared a repeat of what happened during the championship over the summer happening again (which it wouldn’t, considering it was a complete fluke of an accident), or if he was actually tired of playing. The Bats didn’t have a backup Keeper, so everything was on him and him alone. From the other Keepers in the league, he had sort of been welcomed into the consensus that there was very much an ‘us vs them’ with the rest of the team members. He didn’t think his teammates really followed that same line of thinking, but he definitely felt there were times where they, meaning the Chasers, didn’t do enough to keep the Quaffle from getting to him. There really was only so much he could do defensively in a 3-on-1 situation. It was getting exhausting, and it looked bad on his part. The beat writers for the league weren’t easy on him either, which sort of sucked. He did his best not to read them, but they were at almost every practice and hounded him after matches. And then there was his father, who had the ability of being both one of those journalists and could hound him at almost any time of day. Mickey’s phone was perpetually on silent when it came to Cormac.

Despite being busy during most weekends, Mickey decided that he needed this Saturday afternoon to do what he wanted, and thus orchestrated a way to get away from his team and meet up with brother in Hogsmeade. It felt like his commitment to Quidditch was like being in school again, always being told when and where he needed to be. The brief off-season he was allowed was pure bliss. The irony of utilizing his off time to go back so close to Hogwarts wasn’t lost on him as he apparated to the town and strolled awkwardly through the thongs of students tasting their monthly freedom from the castle.

Supposedly a pizzeria of sorts had opened since he had last been to the town, and Mickey was more than skeptical. He liked pizza. A lot. Magic folks tended to not know how to do it right, in his opinion, so he was worried about what could come from this. Rumor had it that the owner was the same guy that ran the matchmaking business out of Horizont Alley, which really didn’t make sense to him at all. How was matchmaking and pizza even related, business-wise? As he stepped into the place though, he understood it a little better. The name was about as corny as could be, Happily Ever After Pizza Emporium, and the theming was…well, he could see why his brother was slouching in his seat, looking like he didn’t want to be there.

“Hey,” Mickey mirrored as he took a seat at the table, and watched Rafe point at one of the pizza names on the menu. His eyes glazed over at some of the other names, and then he simply nodded his head. “Yeah…that’s fine. What’s the deal with this place anyways?” he asked as he continued to look around the pizzeria. It wasn’t tacky, in the sense that it wasn’t Madame Puddifoot’s levels of lovey-dovey grossness, but it was absolutely upselling Blishwick’s other, primary business. It was really confusing and he felt out of place, looking the way he normally did.

Raphael Caelan McLaggen ● 594 ● Kicks by Lights

MADE BY VEL OF GS + ADOX 2.0

[Raphael Caelan McLaggen]

It was easy to catch sight of his brother, since he towered over absolutely everyone else in the crowd. Still, Rafe thought that Mickey looked like he was being propped up more than he was actually standing, and the bags under his eyes were dark and pronounced. It wasn’t a stretch to imagine that Mickey was under an insane amount of pressure, because he didn’t just have to contend with their father anymore – now he had to worry about his teammates, and the sports writers at the Prophet, and even public opinion too. Pro-Quidditch was about so much more than just strategy, after all, or how you played. And seeing Mickey struggle through his career was the final nail in the coffin for Rafe. He liked Quidditch as a hobby, and he enjoyed playing on his House team…but that was it for him. He wouldn’t kill himself for a sport that would try to kill him right back.

Rafe glanced around at the pizzeria, taking in the atmosphere. Despite his self-assurances that this place wasn’t going to become another Madame Puddifoot’s, he couldn’t help but notice that there were mostly couples here. In that sense, Mickey’s question was uncomfortably accurate and Rafe shrugged as he tried to disappear into his seat. “Well-“ he began, unsure how he was actually going to answer what this place’s ‘deal’ was, when a scarily chipper waitress approached them and interrupted. Like seriously, it seemed unreal that there could be that level of pep and cheer in any one human being. “Hi there and welcome to our little home of happy ever afters! How can I help you find what you’re looking for today?” It might seem innocent enough, if not a little on the cheesy side, but the added context of this place belonging to a matchmaker gave the words a deeper (if not sinister, in Rafe’s opinion) meaning.

He shot his brother a look, the kind that said ‘asked and answered.’ Rafe straightened slightly in his chair – he recognized their server as a fellow Hogwarts student, although she wasn’t in his House, but they definitely had at least one class together. Rafe gave her an uncertain smile and asked, “Um, could we have another minute, please?” He watched her go, although warily – who knows what this place came stocked with. Confetti? Enchanted pictures that screamed love advice at you? He didn’t want to know – nor did he need any animated figures to tell him what he already knew about his DOA love life. The pair sat in silence, and Raphael sorted through his brain to find something to say. He didn’t want to bring up Quidditch – because he wasn’t one of those people that needed to talk about it every hour of every day – but Rafe just didn’t know what else to talk about with Mickey. Finally, he decided to volunteer the information, “Just got back from a field trip to the druid island. Hy…” he paused as he tried to remember the name. “Hy-Brasil? It was cool, I guess.”

michelangelo tiberius mclaggen

[michelangelo tiberius mclaggen]

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Hawkish. That is how he would describe the waitress that whisked to their table before Rafe could even respond to what he had just been asked. From what he knew of Jimbo Blishwick and the matchmaking biz, he had clearly trained his wait staff in the exact same manner. Happy aggressiveness, with just enough cheesiness on the top that he felt caught off-guard by the slogan the waitress was spewing out at the two of them. Mickey was at a loss for words, completely forgetting that they were supposed to be ordering pizza, and stared across the table at his brother, who seemed to be looking at him in the same manner. Yup, they were definitely related and unsure of how to respond. Trying to form words, Rafe asked for another minute, and Mickey watched as the waitress backed away, his own eyes flicking back between her and his brother. This place was apparently so new that they still had the pep and spirit of a Quidditch cheer section on opening day. Unless you belonged to the Bats. They were always deadly silent unless a goal was scored. He sort of hated that.

Mickey picked up a menu in the silence, still confused about what he had walked into, hoping that his brother would speak up first. He was such a creature of habit that everything he did and ate was almost robotic these days. Same bars, same drinks, same food. Diverting from that threw him for a loop, and Blishwick’s pizza palace – or whatever this joint was called – was already defeating him.

Rafe spoke first, thankfully, explaining that he had just gotten back from a field trip. Some island called Hy-Brasil. “Right…I think I remember that happening,” he commented, putting the menu down. “Never went. It interfered with weekend practice.” Plus it wasn’t like it had ever been truly available to him. He barely took any high level classes, mostly because he already knew he was going professional when he graduated. “You’re taking NEWT-level Herbology? Or was it Care of Magical Creatures? It’s been a while…” he droned dryly, turning back to the menu. ‘Another One Bites The Crust’ was definitely looking like the front-runner to him, especially if it would get the waitress off their backs for another minute or two.

Raphael Caelan McLaggen ● 383 ● Kyoto by Phoebe Bridgers

MADE BY VEL OF GS + ADOX 2.0

[Raphael Caelan McLaggen]

In these sorts of situations, Rafe usually looked to his brother for directions when he didn’t know what to do. As the youngest, he’d spent most of his life simply copying what Mickey and Ella did, and although they were all nearing adulthood and becoming their own people…Raphael had a hard time breaking the impulse to take his cues from his older siblings. Still, Mickey had that same deer-in-the-headlights look that was probably on his face right now, and that told him that both McLaggen brothers were going to be equally useless when it came to surviving this place. As the waitress spewed her opening lines at them, Rafe and Mickey shared a frozen look and moment of solidarity before he sheepishly asked her to come back. He really should be taking the time to actually look over the menu like Mickey had begun to, but Rafe was still too flustered.

He resisted the urge to sigh as Mickey idly commented that he’d never gone – too busy with practice. It had taken, what, approximately 30 seconds for Quidditch to come up? So much for that plan. “Right,” Rafe mumbled, breaking eye contact to stare at the pattern of the tablecloth before glancing back up again. “My captain doesn’t usually do weekend practices, we can never get the Pitch from the Slytherins. So we’ve been waking up insanely early instead.” His voice began to come back at full volume at the familiar topic, if only because he’d already complained to Addy a million and one times about it. It was absolutely impossible to spot the Snitch before the sun had risen, and even worse after night had fallen. Addy seemed prone to argue that it was just going to make it easier to find the Snitch during actual matches – but Rafe was of the opinion that it was only going to cause him needing glasses in the future. “Yeah, Herbology,” he confirmed as Mickey began to guess what NEWTs he might be taking. He’d never bothered with Care of Magical Creatures, and he honestly didn’t care much about Herbology either. But it seemed a general enough subject to take to cover all his bases. “Right, you don’t need it to go pro…but I guess Dad always chose your classes anyway. Can’t see him putting much stock in unicorns or mandrakes.”

michelangelo tiberius mclaggen

[michelangelo tiberius mclaggen]

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It hadn’t been that long since he had graduated from Hogwarts, but apparently it was long enough for some of the house teams to slip into more of a relaxed schedule than what he had been a part of. Competition had been high during his years, at a ridiculous level really, and that was why he had a lot of contemporaries at the professional level that he had played with and against during his time at school. But that was also bound to happen. The skill of the students during his time was the sort where the house teams literally wanted to kill each other to get drafted to the best teams. His captains had always preached that Quidditch was life. If they weren’t eating, breathing, and dreaming about Quidditch, then there was something seriously wrong. Coming right off of Cormac’s Quidditch 101, this seemed natural to Mickey in his formative years and still did to a certain degree. All he ever wanted to do was go pro, and now he was there. A level of skill and talent was needed for that, of course, but his years of practice and dedication absolutely got him to where was now.

In that regard, it rubbed him the wrong way with how his brother made it out to seem like Cormac was the final decision maker when it came to his life. There was definitely a level of prodding that happened when it came to Quidditch and classes, but Mickey had never purposely allowed the two to interfere with one another. Without passing marks, he wouldn’t be able to play. Mickey bit down on his tongue instead of cracking something back at Rafe. His brother wasn’t entirely at fault for the comment, and Mickey believed it was misplaced. The issue was their father, and they both knew that. If he, in turn, started to get snippy, did that make him any better than Cormac? Probably not. Mickey optioned to fold his menu up and leaned back into his seat instead, quickly scanning the room for the waitress and getting her attention. “Extra-large ‘Another One Bites the Crust’, and a water for me,” he called at her to keep her from getting too close to the table again. He disliked having to completely turn his head to hear her with his non-deaf ear. “Anything else?” he asked his brother before slouching back into the seat again.

Raphael Caelan McLaggen ● 403 ● King Ov Fire by Mental Cruelty

MADE BY VEL OF GS + ADOX 2.0

[Raphael Caelan McLaggen]

A hint of tension crackled in the air between the brothers as the conversation inevitably slipped into their usual pattern – Quidditch, Dad, and the fundamental divergence in how they’d chosen to approach those two testy subjects. Raphael liked Quidditch, he really did. He’d been raised alongside Mickey and Ella to learn to play every position on the team, and all the relevant strategies and warmups to be useful. As the youngest, he had never won a game against his older siblings, of course – but it had prepped him well enough for Hogwarts and being the deciding factor in when a game would end. Hufflepuff was rarely at the top of the charts, but they still did fairly well as a team. Rafe’s stats at catching the Snitch about half the time weren’t quite good enough to impress recruiters, but he was satisfied with his performance.

But then again, Cormac had never been satisfied with ‘good enough’ and therefore Mickey wouldn’t be either. Still, Mickey seemed to resent any comparisons to their father or the implication that Cormac had made any decisions for him. Then again, Rafe thought, class schedules mattered less in the grand scheme of things than what their father had actually done. Cormac had shaped his oldest son’s whole life – the obsession with Quidditch, the competitiveness and ambition needed to go pro. The passion and anger when things didn’t go his way. So did it really matter whether Cormac had chosen his son’s schedule if he had basically decided everything else? But he kept silent on the subject. The McLaggen siblings had fallen into an unfortunate pattern of never actually talking about what needed to be discussed, and as a result they all had a common bond but no…actual bonding. Besides, Rafe was a Hufflepuff through-and-through and he hated the thought of offending someone on purpose. Even his older brother.

So he took Mickey’s sharp return to the menu as the cue to let it go, and his eyes drifted back to the cheesy selection. “Butterbeer, please,” he said as he pointed out the exact selection he wanted to the waitress. It was impossible to be friends with Addy for seven years without automatically choosing Butterbeer. It was her favorite so she ordered it for the group whenever she could –after several years of Butterbeer being the only real choice during hangouts, it had become an automatic impulse to search for it on the menu. The brothers had fallen silent again, so Rafe searched for something to say and resignedly accepted the first thing that came to mind. “Our next game is coming up. If you have the time, you could…come to watch,” he offered, fidgeting with the edge of the checkered tablecloth. He resisted the urge to slouch into his seat because Mickey had already beaten him to it. Instead, he fixed his gaze literally anywhere else, taking in the sight of other Hogwarts students clustered around the tables. Maybe because he’d already been thinking about Addy, he found himself accidentally staring at a couple that had clearly come on a date.

michelangelo tiberius mclaggen

[michelangelo tiberius mclaggen]

▲

The offer to come and watch the Hufflepuff game coming up brought Mickey slightly up from his relaxed sitting. That’s what he liked to call it, after having been yelled at for years by their mother for sliding down in his chair at the table. Not like it was his fault, since sitting on a broom all day practicing really did a number on his back. While straightening up, he pulled a small card out of his pocket and slid it across the table at Rafe. “As long as I’m not playing, I will,” he said. The card had the team logo on the front and all the match dates on the back. He was positive his brother already had one, but the fact that he could barely remember what day of the week they were playing on meant that he had to carry the piece of paper around in his wallet so he wouldn’t forget. “But I’ll need that back. Coach requires it so I don’t forget,” he mumbled. At least he never showed up late. Usually it was just to the wrong stadium when there was an away game, or if brought his practice jersey instead of the game one.

Following his brother’s gaze as he stared off past where they were sitting, Mickey turned his head almost all the way around to see a couple sitting on the other end of the restaurant. “Know them?” he intruded. Cormac had definitely done that a few dozen times to him when he first went pro and there happened to be former classmates sitting nearby. Now he was regurgitating what their father did because he didn’t know any other way to connect with Rafe aside from being awkward. “He might finally put Puddifoot’s out of business. Merlin I hate that place,” he stated loudly before letting out a sigh. Too many dates gone wrong had happened there. And the god awful perfume that was constantly being pumped into the air. He’d take a Quidditch locker room any day of the week over the nasal assault that Madam Puddifoot’s went at him with.

Raphael Caelan McLaggen ● 352 ● Song by Artist

MADE BY VEL OF GS + ADOX 2.0

[Raphael Caelan McLaggen]

Rafe stared at the small card that Mickey slid across the table towards him, picking it up silently to stare at the printed black text -- neat and tidy and recording all of Mickey’s upcoming matches. He already had one, of course…he could even remember the day Mickey had passed the latest batch around the dining room table, Ella’s seat empty and Cormac crowing about the Bats’ chances this season. More of the usual in that sense. “Uh, sure,” he said, although his voice felt almost disconnected. He didn’t know why he felt a stab of disappointment as he looked over the team logo. The two brothers had never been particularly affectionate with each other, and some small logical part of Rafe’s brain told him that his pro athlete brother was too busy to know when he was free. But there was something oddly impersonal about the card anyway, and Rafe gulped down his disappointment as he slid it back across the table. “I’ll check the dates and send you an owl.”

There wasn’t much else to say about that – nothing that really needed to be said, anyway. The McLaggen family was awkward around each other, and at this point it felt too late to do anything about it. Raphael had been absentmindedly gazing at a pair of Hogwarts students sitting at a nearby attention, although he snapped back to attention and flushed red as Mickey seemed to notice. “No,” he said quickly, before more slowly justifying, “I don’t know many Ravenclaws. Just, uh, wondering if this is really the best date spot. Don’t girls like…I dunno, pink and the little cupids and stuff?” Not that Rafe knew what girls liked – his whole experience with dating had been having an embarrassing crush on his best friend for years and then alternating between hookups and periods of silence with her. Not exactly a ladykiller. He coughed in agreement as Mickey complained about Madam Puddifoot’s, although the couple stared at the brothers for a moment before turning their attention back to each other. “Oh, so is that…not a good place to take a girl?” he asked, as if Rafe would ever have the chance to test that for himself. Mickey seemed to have strong opinions about it though, and in some twisted way...dating was easier to talk about with his brother than Quidditch. At least they had mutual things to complain about.

michelangelo tiberius mclaggen

[michelangelo tiberius mclaggen]

▲

He thumbed the edge of the business card when it was finally back in his hands. They really needed to laminate these things, because just from being in his pocket for a couple weeks had caused a rippled bend in the middle and the corners to become slightly dog-eared. Alternatively, he could have put it into his wallet for safety. To him that made it seem almost transactional, and at least this way he kept it freely ready to pull out if someone wanted to see the dates. “Yeah…an owl works,” he mumbled in return as the card was placed back in his pocket again. Or a text. He wasn’t some ancient being incapable of using a phone. In a couple years it was possible that his hands would be too gnarled from taking bludger hits, but that hadn’t happened yet. And anyways, phones had voice to text. Watching his coach try to do that was hilarious, only because half the time the phone was off. It beat the rumors he’d heard of people sending their phones via owl with messages written out on them. Now that was some otherworldly stuff.

The majority of his time outside of the Quidditch pitch was spent in bars or asleep. There was no such thing as free time, especially during the season, and finding time even in the off-season to go on dates had its own difficulties. Trying to discern between whether the girl he was meeting wanted to go on a date because she was interested or because she was a fan made it extremely difficult. Usually it was the latter, and only because the Prophet had trumped up his ‘bad boy’ appearance during his rookie year. It wasn’t his fault that he had an almost permanent scowl and liked dressing the way he did. “I mean, this is Hogsmeade we’re talking about. Your options are here, Puddifoot’s, or the Three Broomsticks.” Because unless the girl was crazy, the Shrieking Shack wasn’t a good first date location. He’d tried that once. It went nowhere.

“The perfume they spray in there makes me gag,” he rolled his eyes as he remembered the last time he’d been in the tea shop. The smell had wafted out of the front door when he passed by it on his way inside the pizza parlor, though was quickly overtaken by the grease and cheese. This was preferable somehow. “I always thought dating at Hogwarts was pretty superficial. Once you get out, people tend to be a lot more realistic and grounded.” Except for him, because he’d chosen the route of fame. Even with Ballycastle being so-so as a team and there being actual superstar Quidditch players in the league, he still had the name and appearance to be known. It was odd being in that pseudo-famous state, because there were enough that knew who he was and what he did.

“But I would say this place is a better choice if you wanted to get lunch while on a date here. The Broomsticks gets crowded around lunchtime and Blishwick seems to have the room and turnaround time of his pizzas faster than anything over there,” Mickey reasoned as he looked around the restaurant. Plus it was shiny and new. Everyone wanted to see that sort of thing before it got old. The Three Broomsticks had a fine, sticky layer of aged beer over everything, to the point where he often times felt gross just sitting at the tables there. Then there were the regulars, who were a loud, abrasive bunch that liked to hang around even when the students were in town for their monthly trip. A lot of it screamed weird to him, so he’d take a normal looking pizza place over that now.

Raphael Caelan McLaggen ● 628 ● The Garden by Flower Face

MADE BY VEL OF GS + ADOX 2.0

[Raphael Caelan McLaggen]

The age difference between Rafe and Mickey was just large enough that he’d never quite seen his brother as…er, human. Well, because he was Mickey! Star of the family, their father’s favorite by a long shot, and a big time Quidditch player to boot. They’d only overlapped at Hogwarts for one year, and most of that had been having professors accidentally call him his brother’s name or hearing about the Gryffindor Quidditch Team’s latest win at breakfast. By then, of course, Mickey had long since hit his growth spurt and Rafe had always been on the runty side until he’d shot up years later. So, although it did make sense that girls might want to go for a tall pro athlete, the idea of his brother dating was as strange to Cheese as the thought of a two-headed crup. Theoretically possible, but only in some strange alternate universe. He’d gotten more used to Ella bringing around new guys to their occasional sibling hangout, but only because she did that…well, quite a bit.

“Yeah, but dating at Hogwarts is easy,” Cheese offered in response, finally giving in to the urge to slump in his chair (even if it made him look more like Mickey). “We’re all five minutes away from each other. Dating out there sounds…hard.” Bloody hell, Rafe didn’t know how anybody even saw each other between work and the commute that even magical transportation required. Not to mention the careers that had a lot of traveling involved – cursebreakers and magizoologists and the like. The other reason that Cheese had no interest in a pro Quidditch career was that he’d caught glimpses of what Mickey’s schedule looked like. The Bats were always training in any and all weather conditions, or working out to stay in shape, or caught up in long strategy sessions. Was that really worth a little applause every time someone scored a goal?

He shrugged a little at Mickey’s comparisons between The Three Broomsticks and this new pizza place. Honestly, Cheese never thought that hard about where to go. Brígh always dragged him to Zonko’s to ogle the dungbombs and fanged frisbees, and Addy had an addiction to butterbeer so they always stopped by the Broomsticks before trudging back up to the castle. “We could bring Ella here sometime?” Cheese asked tentatively before narrowing his eyes at something that looked suspiciously like a little winged cupid. But no, false alarm – just some enchanted decorations left over from the grand opening. “I mean, she said she’d try to stop by sometime. Just, erm, hasn’t yet.” It had already been a few months since he’d gone to see her at the circus over the Christmas break, and he hadn’t heard from her since then. But Rafe didn’t really know what kind of relationship Ella and Mickey had, so maybe his brother had heard something he didn’t.

michelangelo tiberius mclaggen

[michelangelo tiberius mclaggen]

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Dating at school being easier was definitely not how he had spent his years at Hogwarts. There were obligations that he had to stick to, after all. Training regiments and proper performances during matches when there were scouts lurking about. The dirty, insider secret was that there was always at least one in the seats. They were either fairly conspicuous because of how they tried to disguise themselves, or blended into the crowd so much that it made you think there wasn't one actually at the match. There was no in between either, and Mickey had often thought about how the ones that stuck out like a sore thumb were merely false flags, stand-ins used to gauge whether a player would try to show off in front of them. Since he was a keeper, the only thing that mattered was how he did defensively. That made it extremely easy for him.

But it didn't make dating easier, because all of his free time was spent on the pitch practicing. It felt wrong to date within the team, and going to the other houses was basically committing high treason in his eyes. That left very few options, in his opinion, and his still standing policy of not dating fans cut back on that drastically. Despite all of that, he still found it easier now than he had in school. "Scheduling around work can be tough sometimes, but I think it's easier. You can't escape anyone in the castle." He'd tried hiding in a greenhouse after upsetting his first girlfriend back in third year. Upon leaving, he heard other students swear that a baby mandrake must have gotten loose from its pot. It was bad.


"I guess her group is pretty busy then," Mickey mused. Though he didn't actually know that for sure. It had been relatively crowded when the team went the month prior. At least he had a set schedule. Anything outside of practices and matches was up to how he wanted to spend it. Coming to Hogsmeade once a month if possible wasn't the worst thing in the world. "I'm actually surprised they haven't come here yet. Hogsmeade is sort of perfect to host a circus for a week or two." Students pending, of course. They'd make a killing if they had a show here though. Two schools worth of students and family members that would probably join them. It was amazing it hadn't happened.

Raphael Caelan McLaggen ● 406 ● Song by Artist

MADE BY VEL OF GS + ADOX 2.0

[Raphael Caelan McLaggen]

It was a safe assumption that Mickey knew what he was talking about, and at any rate Rafe didn’t feel like contradicting him even if he didn't. He’d never actually spent much time in the ‘real world’, or at least anywhere outside the little bubble that was Hogwarts and Hogsmeade. But his brother definitely had a point – Hogwarts wasn’t that big and it was impossible to avoid someone. Cheese had been trying to avoid Jimmie Blishwick since September, when she’d forcibly convinced him to be the photographer for the school paper (using some good old fashioned techniques like peer pressure and mild bullying). But no matter how hard he tried, she was always right there. The castle was plenty big, but there weren't that many students and they all saw each other at some point.

Mickey didn’t talk about his life much, but Rafe wondered how much of his observations came from personal experience. He didn’t know much about what Mickey got up to (besides his Keeper stats, which were published in the Prophet anyway) which always left Rafe to shrug awkwardly when one of his friends asked how his family was doing. But he didn’t know how to ask a question subtly, therefore leaving Cheese to stupidly observe, “There are girls on the Bats.” As in, Mickey could comment on that fact (and if he’d noticed it) or choose to ignore it. Knowing his brother, probably the latter. He was saved from saying anything else by the arrival of the waitress again, which was probably for the best because Cheese was awfully low on butterbeer to chug in case he wanted to avoid answering a question. So he nodded relieved and asked, “Yeah. Can I have a slice of Pixie Pepperoni?” It took him a moment to process the name, and he cleared his throat awkwardly. “Er, there aren’t actually any pixies in that…right?”

The shake of the waitress’s head wasn’t really a surprise, but Cheese nodded and slumped back into his seat anyway. He played with the checkered tablecloth as Mickey wondered about Ella’s circus group. He made a good point about Hogsmeade being a wasted opportunity – Hogwarts could be somewhat dull at times, which left students desperate for entertainment and pockets jingling with allowance from their parents. A perfect target audience for a circus. “Yeah I dunno, maybe they don’t want crowds in Hogsmeade after the whole…y’know, dragon thing.” That already felt like so long ago, and really it was only one domino in a whole row of ‘crazy things that had happened at Hogwarts in the last few years.’ But Cheese wasn’t a professor, or an event coordinator, so he really didn’t know what went on behind closed doors. He continued, “Actually, I thought it was weird they keep filling up Quidditch matches after that whole thing. Unless there’s new security now?” Rafe shot a quizzical look at his brother.

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Inter-team dating. It was allowed, it happened, and Mickey disliked partaking in it himself. At the end of the day, how was that any different from what they'd just discussed about the issues of dating at Hogwarts? He was around his teammates constantly. Trying to stifle workplace romances would never actually work, as constant closeness was what led to such a thing. When it came to Quidditch and relationships, he wanted something removed from the sport. He already talked shop all day, every day with his teammates and the annoying stats reporter from the Prophet, Slater's younger brother, that frequented the stadium. The only reason the kid actually bothered him was because his father worked in the same branch of the newspaper, and he had a feeling that he was the one pulling the strings. Literally no one found the statistics of left goalpost blocks interesting except for Claire's brother. No one.

Mickey was about explain to his brother that he would never date a girl on the Bats, let alone another Quidditch player, when the waitress returned to take their orders. He had already forgotten what he was going to get, and Raph asking and confirming that the Pixie Pepperoni didn't have real pixies on it was enough for him to get it too. "I'll have the same," he asked, which seemed to be good enough for the waitress. The conversation had naturally shifted back to Ella and her circus. "Thats a good point," Mickey responded to both the dragon problem and the full stadiums. "The amount of security the league hired makes Azkaban look like the local drunk tank." Even during practices there were guys wandering around to make sure everything was fine. The whole thing was silly because there had been loads of security at the championship match, and it still happened. Whether or not it was intentional was still up for debate. "Most are retired Accidental Magic Reversal guys. Because they'll definitely stop the fireworks from exploding during practice." Mickey rolled his eyes at that one.

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[Raphael Caelan McLaggen]

Mickey actually looked like he was going to say something before the waitress arrived – which almost made Cheese lean forward in anticipation. But he was rather comfortable slouching in his chair, and enjoying the fact that their mum wasn’t there to snap at him to sit up straight. So instead he raised a curious eyebrow at Mickey. His brother had gotten a rather fanciful reputation for himself in the papers – grouchy, possessive of his privacy. Some of the girls in his year liked to swoon and call it ‘dark and brooding’ as if Mickey was a character from a romance novel. Either way, Rafe didn’t really know the particulars of his brother’s life, and that was the typical answer he gave to the (small but rabid) Bats fanbase whenever someone asked.

He hadn’t brought anyone home in ages too, but that fact got rather lost in the parade of oddballs that Ella brought home. Rafe was snapped out of that icky train of thought by Mickey’s observation on the new security around Quidditch matches. “They could take a page out of Hogwarts’ book,” Cheese said, snorting at his brother’s last sarcastic comment. “Nothing ever happens without a professor knowing. I dunno how they do it.” Some of the students liked to think that they could get away with things right under the professors’ noses, but that wasn’t a popular opinion. Most had accepted that at least one or two professors was tuned in to the goings on of the castle, and most of the time chose not to do anything about it if it was harmless enough. Rafe shuddered slightly at the rumor he’d heard last week that Professor Zabini had enchanted the items on his desk to watch the students while he had his back turned to the class. He didn’t know if it was true, but if anyone would do it…well, it’d definitely be their DADA prof.

Either way, Rafe hadn’t quite finished trying to bond with his brother. It was uncomfortable and he sort of hated how awkward it made him feel, but he figured neither of his older siblings was going to push much on it. So he said haltingly, “Maybe I could come see a practice sometime. Er…Dad might like that.” It might give Cormac unnecessary encouragement to think Rafe was actually considering going pro after graduation, but he couldn’t help but want to please their dad. He liked Mickey best, that much was obvious, but he hadn’t quite hit a rebellious phase the way Ella had. He fidgeted with the checkered tablecloth though, not wanting to see what Mickey would have to say about that.

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