Her feet hurt. He could tell by the way she stopped every now and then and shifted her weight from side to side. Not that she carried much weight. Pounding the streets obviously kept her figure trim. He watched from the window seat as she scribbled something in her notebook. Transfixed he watched her bending over the bonnet of a shiny red car. As she lifted one foot off the ground to tuck the ticket into the car’s windscreen wiper, the hem of her skirt rose, hitching mid-thigh.

Sucking his breath through his teeth, Ludo Bagman let his eyes slide from her very shapely ankles, up the slightly wobbly seam of the tights (or were they stockings? He rather hoped they were, but her skirt wasn’t short enough for him to check) and to the pert bum, encased in the tight, grey skirt.

She was certainly easier on the eye than the blousy traffic warden who walked up and down his street, although with that hat pulled down over her eyes, he couldn’t quite tell how old she was. He paused his ruminations, wondering if her age mattered, certainly not if she -

"There you are, my boy! Sorry to have kept you waiting."

He jerked his head away from the window, fixing an affable smile on his face as Rookwood entered the room.

"No problem, sir," he replied, deliberately polite because he needed to keep on the good side of his father’s oldest friend.

"You’re a grown-up now, Ludovic. You may call me Augustus."

Ludo’s smile became wider. "You wished to see me, Augustus."

Rookwood nodded. "I have been talking to your father. He is concerned about your current career path."

Ludo bit his lip while Augustus continued talking, stressing the impracticalities of playing Quidditch for a living.

"You have made your mark at the Wimbourne Wasps. Perhaps it is time to leave, Ludovic? To end your career at its peak."

"I’ve only played two seasons," Ludo retorted, "and I’ve just received a call-up for England."

Placing his hand on Ludo’s shoulder, Augustus bent his head down to whisper, "But what happens when you take too many Bludgers to the head, my boy? What happens when the bruises are too numerous, and your bones do not mend as easily as they once did? Far better to quit whilst you are ahead."

But I’m not ahead.

He listened to Augustus, his voice droning on as he talked about the Ministry, and how quickly one’s star could reach its ascendant if one only knew the right people.

"The remuneration may not be as good as that you are currently used to -"

And I dropped a packet on the last match.

Ludo swallowed. He’d come here to tap Augustus for a loan, not change careers, not when things were finally falling into place.

‘I’ll think about it,’ he said at last, and stood up to leave.

Huddled up in his cloak, Ludo decided to walk rather than Apparate home, needing some time to clear his head before his father questioned him. And so caught up was he in his worries that he missed his step, tipping forwards and into someone’s arms.

"Oh, sir. Are you all right? That could have been a nasty fall."

"‘I ... I’m fine," he murmured. Then he smiled, for the person staring up at him was the traffic warden he’d seen earlier. To his delight, she smiled back, not quite relinquishing her hold on his arms.

"‘You look a bit shaken, sir," she said, concern flashing in her eyes.

Such a curious shade of green.

"I a-am," he replied, not exactly feigning his stutter because she was now slowly brushing the dust off her clothes. Her grey, tight-fitting uniform, the sight of which made him feel all sorts of inappropriate things. "‘Th-thank you for saving me."

"Think nothin’ of it," she trilled, still not moving away.

"Tea," he spluttered. "I-I mean, would you care for some?" Then he groaned. He barely had a Knut on him, and no Muggle coins at all. "Except I have forgotten my wallet. And you’re probably on duty."

One corner of her mouth quirked upwards. "I’ve just finished, actually, ‘andsome, and don’t worry about money, I don’t mind payin’."

You’re in there, Ludo!

Fixing her with his most winning smile, he swept his hair off his brow. "My name is Ludovic. Ludo to my friends."

"Margari-a," she replied, and gave him a wink. "Ri-a to mine. Shall I go ‘ome and get changed first?"

"Rita," he replied, enunciating the ‘t’. "How charming. And no, leave the uniform. It suits you."

Rita giggled and didn’t object when Ludo put his arm around her. He kept it on her waist, being careful not to behave in an untoward manner so early in their acquaintance. But really, she was the most delightful companion, swaying into him as she steered them towards a building on the corner.

He stopped when they reached the door. “This isn’t a cafe.�

“Nah, it’s a pub,� she replied and pushed her way into the half empty bar. “It’s been an ‘orrible shift, me feet are killin’ me, and I’m gaggin’ for a drink.� She winked at him. “Don’t worry, ‘andsome, I’m still payin’. What’s your pleasure?�

He gulped a little at her forwardness, and then realised she was asking what he wanted to drink. “Fire.... er ... Whisky, please.�

“Two whiskys please, mate,� Rita ordered, leaning over the bar, waving some Muggle money between her fingers. “Ice with mine, gorgeous.�

The barman grinned back at her, then caught sight of Ludo, coughed, and returned to fixing the drinks.

“Get that down you, ‘andsome,� Rita said, handing Ludo his drink. “And how about we grab a table? That one in the corner’s empty.�

She led the way, Ludo followed, and sat down on the plush red velvet seat next to her. Their thighs touched, but Rita made no attempt to move away. Instead, she took a sip of her drink, and eyed him over the rim of her glass.

“You’re known in here?� Ludo queried, looking around the bar as he tried to divine what sort of place it was. There were a few customers, wearing suits, who looked to be enjoying a lunchtime drink before heading back to work, and some who seemed embedded in the fixtures as the fug of smoke clung around them.

“I come in ‘ere a bit,� she said dismissively. “Can’t ‘elp it if I’m recognised, can I?�

Feeling she’d been offended by his question, Ludo smiled ingratiatingly. “I’m not surprised you’re popular, Rita because you’re a very pretty girl.�

“Oh, you’re a one,� she replied, hitting him on the arm and bursting into more giggles. She took another sip of her drink. “So, Ludo, what do you do with yourself when you’re not crashing into traffic wardens?�

“I play ... um ... I’m a sportsman,� he said.

“Football?� she asked.

He searched his brain, trying to remember his Muggle Studies lessons. Football was kicking the ball, played by yobbos. “Rugby,� he said decisively.

“The blokes that play with odd-shaped balls,� she replied and started to laugh. And then, for some unaccountable reason her hand jerked upwards and the whisky from her glass, that she’d barely touched, spilt over the front of her shirt.

“Oh, bloody hell!� she cursed, and then yelped. “That’s an ice cube down me boobs. And all me drink’s gone.�

Ludo watched, enthralled, as she lifted the sodden fabric away from her chest, ineffectually trying to dry the now transparent white cotton shirt with her hands. He could see the wide strap of her white bra through the fabric, and the lace cupping her splendid breasts.

“Have some of mine,� he said, offering her his drink.

Rita shook her head. “That wouldn’t be right. I bought it for you. Look, I don't have any more money on me, but my place is just around the corner. We could always go back there, Ludo.� She let her hand drop to his arm, and edged closer so their knees were touching. “I need to get out of this shirt.�

Ludo gulped. In his experience, Muggle women were rarely this forward with him. Witches, yes; they were always throwing their knickers at Quidditch players, but to have a Muggle woman, and one dressed so ... He perused her, taking in the unbuttoned grey jacket, the tight skirt, sodden shirt and finally the shoes. The black lace-up shoes.

“Well, I couldn’t let you leave alone, could I?� he whispered.

Smirking, Rita got up, pulling Ludo to his feet. “Finish that one, then, ‘andsome, and we can go.�

He swallowed the drink in one gulp, not caring that on an empty stomach the whisky would soon make his head spin, and followed her out the back door of the pub. Rita took his arm as they walked out into dingy back yard.

“Which way?� he asked, waiting for her to lead off.

In reply, she gripped onto him and span sharply on the spot. He could feel his head reeling, his lungs constricting and his senses tingling, but whether due to the Apparition or the shock, he didn't know.

“You’re a witch,� he said dully as they landed with a thud in her flat.

“Rita Skeeter of the Daily Prophet,� she agreed. And now the voice had changed. She was no longer the Muggle dropping her consonants with the alacrity he'd hoped she’d drop her knickers, but a witch speaking in crisp, clear tones, enunciating every ‘t’. “And you, Ludicrous Bagman are going to tell me exactly what was going with old Gussy Rookwood.�

“Nothing!� he protested. “He’s a family friend, that’s all.� Then he sneered. “What would you do, anyway? I don’t think accepting a drink from a Muggle girl is exactly newsworthy.�

“You leering at my bum won’t go down well with all those pureblood witches after you, would it?� she hissed.

He swallowed, thinking of his father, and Augustus and how they were nagging him to find a proper job, to settle down and stop playing Quidditch. It wasn’t the witches after him he was worried about: his dad knew of his proclivities with Muggle girls and had threatened that any hint of scandal and he’d be packed off to St. Mungo’s for treatment.

“What do you want to know?� he asked.

“That’s better,� she murmured and stepped closer to him. “Just keep me informed, Ludo, that’s all I’m asking.�

Her hand strayed to his waist, and before he knew what was happening, she’d claimed his mouth with her own. Instinctively, he moulded his hands around her bum.

Rita pulled away. But not too far. “See, this could be a mutually beneficial arrangement, Ludo,� she whispered. “Now, why don’t you make yourself at home, while I slip into something more comfortable?�

His hand encircled her wrist. He pulled her down to the sofa. “Keep the uniform on,� he muttered, lowering his mouth to her wet breasts. “Especially the hat ... and the shoes.�