Disclaimer: Harry Potter is not mine.
Lily shifted the position of the thick folder in her arms, barely suppressing a rising anger. She glanced at the watch on her wrist. 1:35. Two and a half hours late. "Excuse me," she asked the receptionist for the umpteenth time. "Is Mr. Potter in yet?"
Her own annoyance was mirrored in the receptionist's eyes. "No, he hasn't come in yet. Yes, I will inform you the second he arrives, even if he has expressly told me not to, in the event that he has diarrhoea and cannot afford to move away from the toilet!" she snapped.
"All right, all right, I'll wait." Lily walked away from the irate woman, giving her a glare of her own. It isn't even our fault that we're on such bad terms, she thought ruefully. It's all that bloody Mr. James Potter's fault, the git who's supposed to interview me and then give me a job, even though it's practically a shoo-in with all my recommendations and I am so going to get this job, but only if that bloody wanker ever turns up! Arghh! She was already mentally pulling out her hair in frustration.
In an effort to drag her thoughts away from potential murder, she turned to the girl sitting next to her and asked, "Are you here for a job interview too?"
"Yes!" she answered enthusiastically. "I'm up in another ten minutes! You too?"
She nodded. "Yeah, except that the idiot who's supposed to do the honours is two and half hours late, and I've been sitting here since ten holding onto this bloody thick file, and I've been drinking cups and cups of coffee, and I just feel like murdering him, but of course, I can only do that if he ever turns up!" Oops. So much for keeping away from murderous thoughts.
"...Oh," the girl said warily. "Right. I have Remus Lupin interviewing me, and from what I've heard, he seems like a really nice guy. Did you get Sirius Black? Because I've heard he's the most unprofessional out of all the heads, and he frequently turns up late, or in biking gear, or with a hangov-"
"Um, no, actually. It's James Potter."
She blinked. "Oh. I actually heard that he's an okay sort of person. Maybe –"
"Lily Evans!" She looked up eagerly to see the receptionist motioning towards her. "That's me, I guess he's finally here!" she said to the girl. "Best of luck for the interview!" she replied.
She walked over to the reception as fast as could be considered dignified and heard the welcome words, "He's in. Third floor, fourth room on the left."
She was gone almost as soon as the words reached her ears.
I am not going to mess this up.
"With all due respect Prongs, that is absolute bollocks." The serious, brown-haired man turned his blue eyes on his best friend who was lounging about on his desk chair. "I have never heard of such a shit plan in my entire life!"
"Hey!" The dark-haired man to whom this comment was addressed sat up indignantly. "It's called marketing strategy."
"Hmmm..." He appeared to consider. "No."
"Oh come on, Moony," he whined, sounding like a little kid. "We're rich enough... we can play around a little! The company's not going to sink!"
A knock sounded at the door. James lifted his eyebrows until they were threatening to merge with his hairline. "Padfoot was supposed to come in around now, right?" he asked.
Remus gave a quick nod.
"Then why the hell is he knocking?"
Another knock. "Just come in already, will you!" he called out.
The door opened. "Geez, Pads, what's wi-" His hazel eyes opened wide. His throat dried up. He could literally feel his brain cells dying on over-exposure to hallucinogens.
Whoa, his last remaining brain cell said, as it spluttered its way to its early demise. Standing at his door was the most gorgeous woman he had ever seen in his life.
Her first impression of her soon-to-be boss was that he was a scruffy, ill-mannered lout who put his legs up on his desk, and had his hair mussed up to a painful extent, and didn't even appear to know how to put on a tie properly. (Of course, the girly part of her brain gushed, He's sooo good looking!)
Her second impression of him was that he was a retard. He had the weirdest look on his face, and if it wasn't for the fact that Lily had checked her reflection half a minute ago, she would have felt like there was something on her face.
He doesn't seem very capable of speech, though. Guess it's up to me. She took a step forward and taking a deep breath, said, "Good morning, uh, Mr. Potter?" Her greeting ended in a question as she saw the other man standing beside him. Please let him be James Potter instead, she prayed. He looks intelligent, sane, and wears a coat and tie properly! "I'm Lily Evans, I'm here for my interview for the post of Sales Head?"
Mr. Normal gave Mr. Idiot a small tap on his back. "Well, James," he said. All of Lily's hopes broke into a million pieces. She could almost imagine the sound of them being flushed down the toilet... Damn you, fate! How could you? "I'd better leave now, then."
Giving a small smile to Lily, he was out of the office in a few long strides, leaving her alone with Mr. Idio – Potter. He suddenly blinked, as if regaining his senses. "Uh, please, sit down."
She complied, feeling his gaze on her, and feeling very uncomfortable. "So, Lily," he began, giving her a charming smile. "Did you take a wrong turn around here? Because we certainly aren't a modelling agency."
"..."
She wasn't sure exactly what to say. Shut up, idiot! didn't seem a very appropriate response. Neither did You know what I do in my spare time? I hand up womanizers from the ceiling by their balls and then murder them. Very painfully. Over a period of several days...
She settled for a "Um, no. I'm pretty sure I'm in the right room."
He was grinning even wider now. What happened to the wide-mouthed, drooling wanker of a few minutes ago? "Because you're so pretty, you wouldn't even have to try. Has anyone told that your hair is amazing? Like molten lava!"
She was shocked into silence for a few seconds. Did this man actually compare my hair to a boiling pool of rocks? "No, not really. Can we discuss marketi-"
"Your eyes are so beautiful!" He was almost dangling out of his chair now. "Exactly the colour of a frog!"
That did it. Her tiny fuse just blew.
"Excuse me?" she hissed. "My eyes are the colour of a frog?" She was standing up now, and dangerously close to hauling him up by his collar. "First, you don't turn up for hours and I have to sit and bother the receptionist and drink so much caffeine that I'm going to be awake for days after this, and then you try to hit on me! With a stupid pick-up line like that! Well, let me tell you what colour you're going to be by the time I'm done with you! RED!"
He was smirking now. Smirking!
"What's so funny?"she fumed. What the hell is wrong with this guy and his crazy mood swings?
"Nothing. I was just testing the theory that redheads have terribly short tempers and, well, my test results are true."
Lily was suddenly horribly aware that she was within an inch of beating her soon-to-be boss to bloody pulp, and had, in fact, already made a death threat. She sunk back into her chair as her knees threatened to give out under her.
"Can we pretend that this never happened?" she asked, in a small voice.
Another smirk. "We'll see about that. Now, as I understand..."
Lily was mentally counting the multiple personalities of the man sitting in front of her. "Lily, are you all right? You seem distracted." This one's Sweet, Nice and Concerned. Let's see, there's also Hardcore Businessman, Playboy Extraordinaire, Annoying Little Git...
"Oh, I'm absolutely fine!"
"So are you free on Friday evening?"
"Weren't we talking about business stratagems a sentence ago?"
"Uh-huh, of course. So, do you have a boyfriend?"
She felt like screaming. How, how, HOW does he go from strictly business-like to asking about my social life in a matter of sentences?
"Can we please stick to the socially prescribed interview guidelines?" she practically begged.
He must have seen the confusion and frustration in her expression because his next sentence was "Don't take it personally. I have a thing for pretty redheads, and I really want to have dinner with you on Friday." Oh my God, now he's the Creepy Stalker.
"Well, don't take it personally, but I don't have a thing for creepy stalkers with MPD who ask their employees out before the employees are even employed, so no, I really don't want to have dinner with you on Friday." she retorted.
A sudden thought struck her. "Am I even employed, or am I undergoing this sexual harassment for no reason at all?" Yeah, so she didn't really have the best control over her mouth or what came out from it.
James looked bemused. "Haven't I already told you? Yes, of course you're hired. What about Saturday then?"
Lily didn't know whether to jump for joy or scream.
Yes, I am aware that this is absolute BS. However, the bloody plot bunny refused to let go until I wrote it down and posted it, which is why you are reading this.
On a separate note, I'm looking for a good IC Bill/Fleur fic, which is not a one-shot or a drabble collection. Any recommends?
If you have managed to read through this, please leave a review!