Lads' Day Out

The Portkey took them to a large rolling moor upon which was erected a stadium. Cheers echoed across the darkening dips and swells of the ground, and discarded food and flyers lay mingled amongst the heather.

A witch glanced briefly at their tickets before waving them rather noncommittally to the southern side of the stands. Hagrid eyed the food vendors so hungrily that Sirius almost expected him to start drooling and licking his lips. Sirius bought them both fresh Butterbeers, hoping to pacify the half-giant. As they began their ascent into the stands, the crowd roared with an equal mixture of joy and frustration.

The game was Puddlemere United v. Holyhead Harpies and was already three hours into play. Sirius and Hagrid stood on the steps looking for some open seats when they heard a familiar voice.

"Sirius, Hagrid! Over here, lads!" They were able to spot a waving Albus Dumbledore on the higher level. He was still flailing excitedly when they finally reached him sitting in his brand new navy blue Puddlemere U. away robes.
"Eh, Albus," said Sirius as he sat down. Hagrid tried to squeeze into a seat, spilling his Butterbeer and leaning on a fat wizard's head for support. "No bother, eh, mate?" The fat wizard, crimson-faced, turned back to the game.
"Wonderful game. Best I've seen the Harpies play since the 1953 win over the Harriers. Mind you I was in the stands all seven days for that one...."
Dumbledore brought them up to date on the game whilst passing out tins from a carryout sitting by his feet amongst a pile of discarded empties.

Two hours later, the twinkle had left Dumbledore's eyes. It was cold, and raining a drenching mist rain, and he was running low on refreshment. He had taken in the last half-hour to variously praising sportsmen of the past or sitting morose and silent, watching the game with obvious distaste. Sirius studied his friend's new robes and team scarf and thought that in contrast Dumbledore was looking very old, and more than a little worn.
Hagrid decided he fancied a quick snack of chips and set off in search of a chipperie.
Sirius and Dumbledore sat quietly for a few minutes, ostensibly watching the game. In reality they were awaiting the other to speak.

"Are you still having those nightmares, Sirius?" Dumbledore's voice was so quiet, that Sirius was not sure he hadn't imagined the question.
"No, fit as a fiddle, me. Just dreams about leggy witches, yeah." Remus must have told him, he thought. He would straighten that out tonight.
"Still, Azkaban changes a man." He could feel Dumbledore's gaze fall on him. Sirius kept his eyes locked on the game. Neither of the men reacted when the Harpies scored with the Quaffle.
"Well, it's no garden party!" He laughed weakly. He wanted to get out of there. He wanted out now.
He saw Hagrid coming back and stood up, trying to push towards his friend. It was time they left. He didn't need Dumbledore telling him about Azkaban and what it did to a man. He knew exactly what it did.

Hagrid saw Sirius get up and start towards him. He shot Dumbledore a quizzical look. Dumbledore stared down at a can he was holding in his hands. He looked cold. Should have some chips, thought Hagrid.

There was a shout. Sirius had collided with a wizard and knocked him off balance. The older wizard had fallen onto a group of half-drunk young students, who rose up in disgust and outrage. They were unaccustomed to having old men dropped in their laps and weren't about to start getting used to it now.
"Oi! The fuck's this, matey?!" yelled the largest, baldest of the bunch.
Sirius moved in closer to answer him.

From Hagrid's vantage point, as he pushed into the developing melee, he saw Sirius quickly lean in towards the scruffy student as if to kiss him.
There was a hollow crunch, and the tough's head flew back as he yowled in pain. A great upside-down red star seemed to have been painted in the middle of his face. Hagrid realised it was blood.

People began to scream. Fathers tried to move their children away from the growing riot. Other wizards started firing flares into the air from their wands. Only Sirius seemed to be enjoying himself.
Hagrid waded to the center of the action. He watched as his friend's steel-capped boot connected with a young wizard's genitals. He saw another student trying to aim his wand at Sirius, and with a powerful grab Hagrid both disarmed the boy and broke his wrist.
Most of the would-be combatants had begun to retreat. The wizard who Sirius had initially head-butted was now being kicked repeatedly by the Animagus. These were the little bastards who had sent him to Azkaban. These were the ones who had taken his future from him, and they would pay it all back.
A man was watching the beating with an expression of horror. Hagrid quickly punched him to the side of his head, ripping the man's ear. That would give him something to tell the lads in the office, thought Hagrid. He then reached a giant arm around Sirius's middle and lifted him, legs still kicking, into the air and away from his unconscious victim.
"C'mon laddie. Ye've shown 'em enough, eh?"
"Fuckin' cunts! Wanna get wide? I'll fuckin' tear yer fuckin' heads off!"

Yellow sparks began to appear in the air above them. The security had arrived. Two security wizards stood at the foot of the moaning carnage that had moments before been a group of Quiddditch spectators. Sirius quieted as he watched their approach.
One of the men looked at them and grimaced. He didn't fancy his odds at trying anything against these two radges.
"I'm afraid we will have to ask you to leave with us, gentlemen. There is no fighting allowed in the stadium. You'll have to come with us...or there will be trouble." God help him if they made him back this up, he thought. "No fuckin' cause!" bellowed Hagrid at the two highly-intimidated security men.
"Come now gentlemen. Rules are rules." said the braver of the two, clutching tightly to his wand and feeling very self-conscious in his neon yellow standard issue robes. His companion stood dumbly beside him, tensed to take the first blow or curse.
"Lads are just letting off steam," offered a by this time very drunk Dumbledore. "Nothing wrong with letting of some steam, surely." He sank back into glumness.
"Can we help it if some jakey bastard takes a trip on the stair. For fuck's sake, we're jist tryin' to enjoy our chips an' watch the Quidditch. No fuckin' rules 'gainst that...completely fuckin' out o' order!" Sirius was working himself into another frenzy.
Hagrid thought it might be time to leave after all.