A/N: Hi all! I wrote this story originally as a drabble for a Tumblr Challenge. I received several reviews suggesting that I expand it into a multi-chaptered story, and this is my attempt! This is my first try at a multi-chaptered fic, so don't judge me too harshly! However, please don't hesitate to review with comments and critique! I have kept the original drabble as a separate post entitled "AU Quidditch," but have changed it a bit to add more background for the story. Thanks to my lovely beta, Ayla! (iheartmatttuck on Tumblr).
Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER.
James Potter sauntered into the locker room, feeling quite accomplished after an impressive practice. He had flown beautifully- scoring goals, dodging bludgers, and throwing arching passes that hit their marks every time. His teammates regarded him with an odd contradiction of jealousy and awe of his skills. They couldn't help but admire him, despite their strong urges to strangle the prat. That was exactly how James liked it.
As he was leaving the pitch, James' coach had informed him that he was orchestrating yet another interview for yet another magazine which would likely result in yet another piece gushing about the handsome and talented "role model" that is James Potter.
Smiling a bit to himself, James tossed his goggles on the bench and quickly pulled off his shirt. James was never the type to feel self-conscious or fret about his body. He knew that he was attractive. He worked hard to maintain his physique, and he'd be damned if he wasn't going to show it off. He was just about to remove his trousers when he heard a throat clear behind him.
James turned to find the most stunningly beautiful woman he had ever seen. Red hair flowed over her shoulders in soft waves, freckles dotted her porcelain skin, and her jeans hugged her curves beautifully. James Potter wasn't often impressed, but this angelic creature caught him off guard. It was as if something inside him snapped, completely fell apart, and then righted itself—in an instant.
He cleared his throat as well, willing his voice to come out steadily.
"How did you get in here?"
'That's for me to know, and you to find out," the woman smirked. She approached James, her heels clicking on the floor. The sound sent shivers up his spine, but he managed to arrange his lips into the irresistible smile that usually had women falling at his feet. His charms captivated every woman, and this one would be no different. She leaned across the bench, her face inches from his.
"Would you be interested in doing a series of private interviews with me for a piece to be published in The Daily Prophet?"
He struggled to find his voice again (Why did this keep happening?) as the red-haired vixen continued to stare into his eyes. He felt like her green eyes were seeing through his suave exterior, through his swagger. She was… she was seeing him. n He felt his composure slipping as he struggled to remain calm. Somehow, he knew this woman wouldn't be like the others (the many, many others). He knew he wouldn't be able to lie to this woman. Ever.
"I suppose that would be doable," he managed to say. "Next week, over dinner?"
The woman smiled. James' heart fell into his stomach.
"Excellent. I look forward to learning more about you, Mr. Potter."
The reporter smiled dazzlingly before turning on her heel and strutting towards the door.
"Wait!" James tore his eyes from her retreating backside and looked her in the eye as she turned back around. "You didn't mention your name."
"That's for me to know, and you to find out," she repeated with a wink.
James watched the door slam behind her before shaking his head and closing his gaping mouth with a snap. He ran from the locker room, still shirtless, and stopped one of the photographers who had been taking photos of the pitch.
"Do you know who that reporter is?" he asked, straining to catch another glimpse of her as she Disapparated with a crack.
"Why, that's Lily," he said. "Lily Evans."
