He stared at the Quaffle, still turning it in awe, as Plum explained the actual significance of the ball he held. A winning Quaffle? He was holding the winning Quaffle of the match against Puddlemere?

"Bloody 'ell," he murmured, only vaguel aware that Michelle was holding out her hands for the self-same ball. That brought a smirk to his face as he looked over at her.

"And you think I might actually allow for my prized posession," yes, it already fell into that category, "to be touched by the foul hands of a Magpie supporter, eh?"

But even as he teased her, he was handing over the Quaffle admonishing that she be careful with it.

"You, you like it?" Plum asked, quietly.

"Like it? I LOVE it!" he said, leaning over to his sister and giving her a very big hug which he broke a moment later with a gasp and a slightly chagrined look. "Oh! Your gift! I need to give you your gift, don't I?" he said, digging into the pocket of his jacket which he'd hung over the chair.

The search, of that pocket, was fruitless. A bit of a frown touched his brow as he then dug into the other pocket. A moment later he was standing up and digging into the pockets of his trousers before hunting through his jacket again.

He came to a halt, hand jammed into the left hand pocket again, his eyes sliding shut. "Ah fuck!" he muttered, apologizing for his curse and then wincing as he looked up at Plum. "I left your gift sitting on me bed."