The woman in the modest navy suit jacket quietly set her briefcase next to her. She brushed her wavy brown hair behind one ear and crossed her legs neatly. She smoothed her black skirt so that it rested just above her knee and folded her hands in her lap so she wouldn't fidget. She looked around the cafe, the white walls adorned with pleasant pictures of sports pitches and smiling athletes.

The waitress took her order, a sweetened mint tea, no cream. The woman did not drink coffee, it was bitter and bad for health. She sipped on her tea and waited for a few more minutes before pulling a book out of her briefcase.

"Hermione Granger, the brightest witch of our age. Her nose stuck in a book even at a job interview." A young man with an easy grin slipped into the chair across from Hermione. He had sandy blonde hair and his shoulders and shirt filled out his button down shirt. He gave Hermione another impish smile and she couldn't help but shake the feeling that she knew him.

"Yes, well, I suppose that's bound to happen with my interviewer is late," Hermione slapped a hand over her mouth and cringed. The man only laughed though, his arm casually draped over his chair.

"Relax, Hermione. You're right I was late. And calling me out on it surely isn't going to harm your interview, we're looking for someone who is prompt and present. You got the job in case you we wondering, we'd be crazy not to hire someone as smart as you." The man winked at her, "But we do have to clear a few things up."

"Oh, well that's a relief I guess. And I'm sorry but you look very familiar, have we met?" Hermione's shoulders relaxed and she settled into her chair.

"I suppose I shouldn't be surprised that you didn't recognize me right away. We went to Hogwarts together, I'm Oliver Wood."

"Oh! Oliver, my you've grown up so much! How wonderful, of course I remember you, you were always talking about Quidditch. Plus, Harry was always rather fond of you."

"Ah, yes, Harry. How's the bloke doing? He was the best seeker I've ever known. Do you still keep in touch?"

"Yes, of course, we're still best friends. Harry's working for the Ministry as an auror. We get together regularly for dinner and I'm sure he'd love to see you some time."

"That's great. Now let's get through these clarifications quickly so that we both can be on with our lives- not to say that it's not great to see you Hermione." Oliver pulled out a leather bound journal and a quill. "Let's start with why you would like to work for the London Redhawks? As I recall you never showed much interest for quidditch."

"Well, that's true. I spent the last few years after the war working for the Ministry in the repair department dealing with restoration in the muggle world. It was a good job however I wanted more of a challenge, so when I saw that ad in the Daily Prophet to be the organizational specialist for a new Quidditch team I must say I overlooked it at first. However, I've accumulated a lot of knowledge through the years from Harry and Ron so eventually I decided to apply."

Oliver nodded, pleased. "I see. This is a very demanding job with long odd hours. You will be working directly with the General Manager to maintain and ensure all aspects of the Redhawks publicity, travel, marketing, and so on are running smoothly. Does that seem manageable to you?"

"Yes, of course. I look forward to it. And may I ask who is the General Manager. That's been kept under wraps from everything I've been able to dig up on the formation of the Redhawks."

"Ahh, yes well he likes to keep a low profile. I have been asked to be the main face of the team. As a former Keeper for Ireland I will not only be the head coach, but also extremely involved with the business of team operations."

"So this GM who I will be spending almost waking minute of my day with— I don't even get to know his name?"

"Come in next Monday for your first day on the job and find out for yourself." Oliver smiled casually and had Hermione finish signing the paperwork required for employment, but refused to give up the name of his elusive employer.

As her left Hermione sighed into her cold tea, what on earth was she getting herself into?