Football Is Everywhere, Not Quidditch

Football Is Everywhere, Not Quidditch

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We want to make a point that football is the World's most beautiful game

But sometimes football has its opposing game.

Quidditch.

However, there's a firm affirmation that football is more popular everywhere.

Even if you're not playing.

Somehow you can see it everywhere in real life.

And I mean it!

'That's it! No more football for you!' - Bend It Like Beckham

Ronald Weasley has a happy life around. Being a keeper of Chudley Cannons, his favorite team, having three loving kids and a lovely, innocent-looking wife as the editor of The Quibbler. Some few years have passed since the Second Wizarding War ended, and life goes on, even with a huge amount of casualties. But the past's the past and everyone's thinking of the present and the future - unless you count out Cornelius Fudge, Percy - (don't say it!) or Dolores Umbridge. Those miscreants deserved to be out of the way already.

Ah, the pain is over. The rest of the life is just the beginning, and now the journey is at its infancy. Another 60 years to go? Maybe, provided if he doesn't drunk himself to death or get knocked by a bludger severely. Or having being drugged or assassinated by a rival player like Draco Malfoy - Ginny's husband, someone that he loves not to talk to. And every night before the kids go to bed, he and Luna would stand by them in bed and even read them a fairy tale like 'The Polar Express' - an enchanted Christmas story that it's a favorite celebration for the Weasleys every year.

It's his habit to either spend a night in the weekend or after his weekly Quidditch League game to have a butterbeer drink with his best friend Harry Potter - The Boy-Who-Lived and The-Boy-Who-Whipped-Voldemort's Ass of the face of the earth. But for today, Harry's out for some unexpected obligations. Well, he has to drink himself to content. He just had Tom the barman to keep him company.

Scene: Interior, weekend, nighttime at The Leaky Cauldron

Tom: More beer, Mister Weasley?

Ron shakes his head, he couldn't call for one more bottle of butterbeer.

Ron (murmuring): So hot...ugghhhh....

Tom: Are you okay, Mister Weasley?

Ron's head lies on the counter table, unable to get up, his hand clutching the bottle.

Ron: Nothing wrong, Tom, ughhhh....

Tom: Are you drunk?

Ron: Ughhh..

Tom: For Merlin's sake, don't keep drinking, you'll drunk yourself to nowhere and maybe your Miss Editor wife is going to scream at me in the fire.

Ron: Luna? (Suddenly he gets up to his seat and looks up at Tom)

Tom: Yeah. (shaking his head) Don't you remember? She screamed at both of us a long time ago. Asking why didn't you call back home. Said that your kids were always moaning 'Where's Daddy?' or 'Why hasn't Daddy come back?'

Ron: Harry...

Tom: Ah, if your friend Mister Potter's here, you won't get drunk like what you're now. Seems like you are clinging to him to stop yourself from getting drunk.

Ron: Should be here anytime....

Tom: (placing his hand on Ron's shoulder) He didn't show up for the last two hours. Forget it, Mister Weasley. He's got something important that he doesn't have time for drink.

Ron: (angry, pulling Tom's shirt) Stop saying it!

Tom: Okay, okay. Don't do it, you're embarrassing other people behind ya. Stop drinking okay? You've been drinking about ten bottles already.

Ron: Why you bother about me? That's none of your business!

Tom: (wiping the counter table, taking the empty bottles away) Look, I don't want to have myself dragging your unconscious body of yours into one room until you wake up the next day. It aches my backbone you know, and remember that I'm hunched already.

Ron: Duh...

Tom: Because of this, I had to wait another day for you to pay up what you owed me the other day. If I keep doing this, I'm going to lose more money than what I could afford!

Everyone's looking directly at Ron. Ron calms himself down, breathing as hard as he can.

Then the main door opens and a man, probably black-skinned guy. He's wearing a jersey T-Shirt and blue color jeans. He walked in and everyone's paying attention to him with his appearance.

Tom: (looking at him, pointing his finger) Hey - you there! We don't serve Muggles here!

Man: Relax, Tom (he shows his wand, and approaches the tap counter)

Tom: Oh, sorry. No hard feelings, eh?

Man: Never mind, Give Ron some water.

Ron: (weak voice, turning at the man) How do you know my name?

The man's face comes into light when he inches closer to Ron.

Man: Hello, Ron.

Ron: Uhh..so familiar

Tom returns from the kitchen, carrying a glass of crystal-clear water and places it in front of Ron.

Man: Ron, can't you remember me? It's me, Dean!

Ron: Dean?

Dean: Same time in Hogwarts, same house, Gryffindor? Ring any bells?

Ron: You with Seamus?

Dean: Yeah! How are you old pirate? It's so good to see you!

He moves closer then embraces Ron and gives a pat to his shoulder

Dean: Here, have some water.

He helps Ron to drink some water. After a few seconds, Ron's slightly better than during his drunken state

Ron: Where have you been? I haven't seen you since after the war ended.

Dean: Well, it's a very lengthy story to be explained later. (takes a seat next to Ron)

Tom: A drink for you Mister Thomas?

Dean: Give me some Weasley's Ass

Ron: DEAN!!!

Tom: You won't like him when he gets angry.

Ron grits his teeth, growling silently.

Dean: (slaps his forehead) Oh, just Firewhiskey.

Tom: Coming up!

Dean: (turning to Ron) I heard you have a good life already. Playing as keeper of Chudley Cannons, married to Luna and having three great kids. That's amazing, at a tender age of 25. Gosh - I wish I could do something like you do.

Ron: How you know much about me? You've been missing here for the last seven years!

Dean: Well, I've decided to break off from Wizarding life for a while. Quite boring you know.

Ron: How come you know so much about me when you're out of Wizard World?

Dean: I've been dating Parvati for one year already.

Ron: Parvati! So that's why you know much about me. What's she doing now?

Tom: (bringing Dean's drink) Here's the drink. Enjoy it while it lasts...

Dean: (handing a few coins to Tom) She's working as an Muggle bank executive. She thought of working for Gringotts, but decided against it.

Ron: Why?

Dean: She has some fear on the goblins - sometimes they are not trustworthy, and they can have a chance to take a stab on you.

Ron: What about you?

Dean: Well, I am playing for West Ham football club - that's this shirt I'm wearing with number 15 on it (he turns his back)

Ron: Blimey! Why?

Dean: I love football - supported that club before I came to Hogwarts. Now that I've finished there, I get to play football at least once week, at professional level.

Ron: Yeah - so do I. How do you fare there?

Dean: We nearly got back to the Premier League. We just lost to Norwich in the play-offs. We had to play again the First Division this season.

Ron: Sorry to hear that. But Chudley's second in the top league!

Dean:Uh uh. I got to know it from Wood - Oliver Wood from Puddlemere.

Ron: Bollocks! He was taunting me all the time last season!

Dean: Since you and your Weasley clan love Muggles - I'm gonna show you something.

Ron: What?

Dean: In real world, you see more football than Quidditch.

Ron: You're bluffing me, taffer. Fussball?

Dean: Ha-ha, it's football. Unless if you want to be in the body bag by branding me a taffer.

(takes a gulp of Whiskey)

He places the glass on the table

Ron: You want to prove a point? Are you talking to me?

Dean: Yeah, let's go for a walk. I'm trying to make a point out of it.

Ron doesn't budge from his seat

Dean: What? You're not moving?

Ron: I don't feel so good.

Dean: Nah, walking will make you better. Trust me... (winks again)

Ron: Stop doing that!

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Scene: Exterior, outside The Leaky Cauldron

Dean: Vehicles back and forth is just like attack and defend.

He points to the white arrows on the road, separated by a line in the middle

Ron: Huh?

Dean: Look buddy - didn't your mama coach show you the arrows of game strategy?

Ron: Don't talk about my mama, missy!

Dean: I'm trying to get your attention, red head.

Ron: Alright.

Dean: Everyday after training, the big man made us sit down in a room facing a whiteboard - he draws arrrows of movement over and over again, overlapping one another. Of course Angelina and Harry did point out how to work back and forth right?

Ron: Oh - heard that, a pity that our coach doesn't use that.

Dean: That's why you can't even make sense that things here are just like football!

Ron: Hrrumph!

They keep walking, and they just stop at one parking spot with margins over it.

Dean: This is just like the football line - off the line means play is a stop. That makes football more exciting than just your Quidditch. No lines means no stopping. No control except Madam Hooch.

Ron: Don't you ever insult Quidditch in front of me. Quidditch is just like a religion to me.

Dean: Come on. Does the referee give you a chance to pause yourself if a Quaffle goes out of the line? Zero seconds... (Shapes his two fingers into a zero shape)

Ron's face turns red. But he refuses to mutter a word

Ron: But hey, both games have a referee, right? See that car park keeper there? Just like your Muggle policeman - blowing whistle all the time, signaling you people move here, move there...

A car reverses from its parking slot. A man, possibly a parking lot keeper whistles with a whistle, blowing continuously non-stop. He motions the driver to move some more, while moving his hand horizontally back and forth. When the car tries to move further, the man whistles again to stop the driver from reversing.

Dean: Hahaha...I know that.

Ron: Hooch is always there, blowing her whistle and screaming at top of her lungs -Penalty! Penalty!

Dean: But she doesn't send people off the pitch. Not football. She doesn't use cards.

Ron gives Dean a wink in the eye - a sign of disbelief. They keep walking. The roads here got dampen by heavy rainfall just now, puddles at every where. A bus pulls off from the stand, the puddles splashes Ron's shirt. Dean manages to sidestep away.

Ron: Damn that Muggle bus!

Dean: Why didn't you move aside, mate?

Ron: How stupid of me...

Dean: But you get to see the substitute's bench, Ron.

Five people are lining up, seating on a bench, waiting for the next bus

Dean: You see Ron, you never get to stop midway in Quidditch. McGonagall never makes noise about whose playing, who's not playing. She just says only one thing - the Quidditch cup goes to Gryffindor. You can't even give yourself an exit earlier before times up!

Ron: Yeah, but what about you? You get tired after one hour and what? The big man takes you off?

Dean: Not always but he uses the people in stands there.

Ron: Damn it! Using a Nimbus can save plenty of sweat for acrobatic saves.

Dean: If that's the case, I may get myself banned for using an illegal object like the Nimbus. I may end up ineligible playing for life. You know back at the time when Umbridge at Hogwarts. Poor Harry, sat out for the whole nine months and just watched you letting in more goals without your help. At least Ginny helped to save your skin from embarrassment against Hufflepuff!

Ron: I was inexperienced that time, now I can make 20 clean sheets in a row! You can ask Wood if you think that I'm lying, or you can buy a home game ticket and see for yourself - in your own eyes, that is.

Dean: Are you kidding me? Nobody does a clean sheet for 20 games in a row. That's ridiculous! If you're trying to say this to Seamus, he's gonna laugh too.

Ron: At least we're better than you - in terms of keeping.

Dean: But you have the broom! You can do the double-eight loop maneuver without a sweat. But goalkeepers in football are not like you. They have to move in and out, scramble for the ball and try to stop it from reaching the mouth. You even have to guess where the ball will go, you know. You will sweat out for this one.

Ron: Hahaha..

Dean: What's so funny? Why not you try it out behind your own backyard? I come to your house with the ball, we build a goal mouth net and you try to catch the ball.

Ron: I won't mind, Dean.

Dean: That's easy to say. But after that you will make plenty of fuss out of it. 'I can't do this, I can't do that' - all sorts of pathetic excuses from a lame man like you.

Ron: That's enough, Dean!

They walk at the corner of a road and stop by a Pizza shop. A man is tossing the dough in the air. Dean tilts his head, forms two fingers of his hands in an L-shape and frames it at the pizza man.

Dean: Look through my fingers. See this pizza man? Just like the goalkeeper. Tips the ball away for safety or even for a corner kick. I call this pictorial effect.

Ron: (looks through Dean's hand-shaped frame) Should get a camera. Charlie would want see this. Looks like a Superman effect.

Dean: Superman - the man of steel. Call Colin or Dennis out, he will love taking those!

Ron: Dad got fascinated after watching the movie. We can do it with the broom though.

Dean: No keeper since Peter Schmeichel did a Superman pose against six players ten years ago by rushing out, dived and grabbed the ball before anyone could get to it!

Ron: Wow!

Ron chuckles. But he turns his head around and looks at the pizza man laying the toppings over the dough. But they walk across another street into another street. After walking, both pause for a moment. There's a housing estate to their right. But suddenly, Ron's face turned red again.

Ron: You're irking me. Can't you say something else besides this?

Dean: Almost - yet to finish it up. Just bear a little longer, won't you.

Dean takes Ron to a nearby housing row in the city. Each house contains a post box. What Dean tries to tell Ron is that there are some numbers that interests Dean. He stops by a house with a number on the mail box, pointing his finger at the box, mutters something without looking at Ron. Ron's

Dean: ...343...

Ron: Where are we going?

Dean: ....442...

Ron: What are you trying to say?

Dean: ...451...532

Ron: Are you listening to me?

Dean: I thought you're listening. I'm trying to point out something.

Ron: Show me what?

Dean: Formations - football is slightly bigger, 10 outfield players, it can be in 442, 451, 343, 532, 541 and so on, as long as the total's 10. But you have only 7 players, 1231, but that's okay as long as the game's interesting.

Ron: Huh? Another point in foolsball?

Dean: Correction. Football. F-O-O-T-B-A-L-L

Ron: Is that it? I want to go home? (begins to get unbalanced, stretches his hands and yawns)

Dean: (looking at Ron, sighs for a moment) Alright. Alright. Let's take you back to the Cauldron.

Holding one of his hands, he helps Ron back to the Cauldron. Just a few paces to the entrance, both bum into a bystander. The bystander gave a cruel look at them, ignores them and walks away.

Bystander: Watch it, buddy!

Ron: Are you blatching someone? (not looking at Dean, his eyesight is blur)

Dean: This is not Quidditch time - you look sleepy.

Ron: It's like football, right? Fouling people, right?

Dean: More or less, but the term used is different with the same meaning. (slaps his face)

Ron: Huh?

Dean: Stay awake. I'm getting you in. Christ, I should have finished it earlier.

Ron: It's the last one, right?

Dean: Yeah. Okay, if you blatch, it means I bumped into you. A cobbing means that I elbowed an opposing player. And...

Ron: ...blagging?

Dean: (sighs) Well, blagging is like pulling another player's shirt.

Ron: Same like Quidditch, eh, mate?

Dean: Well, you can say it. But it's the football culture still out there. It never dies, Ron.

They enter the entrance again. Tom is still at the counter. But another person is at the counter - a female with a blonde hair with blue eyes - Luna.

Luna: Where have you been again, Ronald Weasley?

Ron: Luna - What are you doing here?

Luna: It's midnight now, Ronald Weasley, your kids are asking me plenty of times of your whereabouts!

Ron: Luna, I...

Luna: Stow it, Weasley! It seems that you've forgotten me again, your wife! (points at Ron)

Dean: Stop it. Stop it! I came to pay him a visit. It's not his fault.

Luna: Pardon me, are you Dean Thomas?

Dean: Yes. We haven't met each other for about seven years.

Luna: (turning to Ron) You could have give me phone call about this!

Ron: Darling, this guy is football crazy! He took me around before I even asked him anything!

Luna: You are also Quidditch crazy too, Ronald! This is the second time in six months I have to come out here to take you back home, you druken oaf! You are nothing but giving trouble to Tom and I!

Dean: Please, listen. I took him out for some nice chat. I didn't know that he has to go back for you. (pats Luna's shoulder) Please don't blame Ron.

Luna: What did you say?

Dean: Don't blame Ron.

Luna looks dreamily at Dean's face but says nothing.

Dean: Here's something for both of you. I took the liberty of inviting you to watch me play next Sunday afternoon football match. Two front row seats exclusively for both you with my compliments.

He takes out two tickets from his pocket and hands it to Luna

Ron: It's not my fault, I swear!

Luna studies Ron's face. Ron shows an innocent looking face. Eventually, she gives both boys a big smile.

Luna: Thank you, Dean.

Dean: Well, that's a way of saying I'm sorry for the mess.

She gets from the seat in the counter, lifts Ron into a standing position and helped him out of the Cauldron.

Ron: (glances at Dean, with a low voice) Thanks for the cover.

Dean just winks at Ron.

Luna: Goodness, Ronald! I'm so sorry! It's for the kids' sake that I had to do this!

Ron: You should have listened to me, you know.

Luna: But how can I be sure that you're not lying?

Ron: (frowns) Just ask Mum. I can't do this since the Howler thing.

Luna: Let's go home. You need a big rest for tomorrow. You promised the kids for a picnic with the Potters, remember?

Ron: Shit! How could I be so stupid?

Dean: Hey! Ron! Count how many things that are same as football against your Quidditch! Give me your count next week! I can tell you there's more in football than Quidditch!

Ron: Shut up already, man! I'm sick of your constant football mania

Luna: And I'm sick of your constant talk of Quidditch mania, Ronald! (slaps his face)

Ron: Ouch! Cut it out, dear!

Both of them leave the Cauldron. Dean couldn't resist watching them and gives himself a smile.

Later, after enjoying another glass of Fire Whiskey, Dean walks out of the inn. His muscles ache and he feel sleepy. He crosses the street to the pavement opposite the inn. A motorcycle passes by him. He glances briefly and sees a number of the licence plate - a solid '10' engraved on it. He knows what the number means and gives a loud shout in the street on a beautiful night.

Dean: OWEN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

A man pops out from the window, wearing bed clothes, looks at Dean and screams at him.

Man: Hey - shut up! We want to sleep!

THE END