My Ideal Career
Chapter 1: Nerves
I was so nervous and not even sure exactly why I was this nervous. I mean, I know I was going to a job interview, but it was to a job I love: Quidditch. I started playing in 4th year as a chaser and I loved it, more than anything, I loved everything about it: the fear, the exhilaration, the thrill of it all. All the factors made it incredible and when you won it, it was a bonus.
Anyway, as I was saying, today is my job interview and everything that could have gone wrong has gone wrong. From something which happens on a regular basis, despite my best efforts to stop it: sleeping in late, I ran out of my favourite shampoo which wakes me up and my breakfast ended up stuck on the floor.
But here I am now, waiting outside and about to be called in.
"Miss Virginia Weasley?"
Here goes nothing then.
Here I am sitting behind a desk helping out in the job interviews to get a new chaser (seeing as our other one decided to retire and she was starting a family with her long term partner) when I would much rather be outside flying.
"….Weasley."
A Weasley? But which one?
Just then a woman stepped into the room who took my breath away.
The woman had long, slightly wavy red hair (the only reason I would have recognised her as Ginny Weasley, the youngest), except it wasn't really red, more like auburn than bright red. Her thick, wavy hair was layered and had a long, sweeping fringe. It framed her face beautifully, went passed her shoulders and curled at the ends. She had large, deep dark brown eyes which reminded me of dark bitter chocolate and the greatest body I had ever laid eyes on.
So I turned the handle and stepped into the large and airy room. There were three people sitting at the table, an older, greying, fat man (assumable the chairman of the club), a younger woman, and someone I definitely recognised but couldn't quite believe that it was him.
It wasn't that I never noticed him; I always knew he was very attractive but having been quite obsessed with Harry at the time dismissed other guys, including him.
The man in front of me was obviously tall from the way he was sitting, as his long legs were sprawled out in front of him taking up quite a lot of room, for someone's legs anyway. His years of Quidditch had certainly paid off because before me was the greatest set of muscles I had seen. Slowly I brought my eyes up to his face and it was almost as I remembered it, just a little more roguish and the hint of childhood gone.
He had the same wide, curving mouth; it looked as if it were poised to grin, crinkled hazel eyes on the verge of laughter and unruly hazelnut brown hair.
"Oliver? Oliver Wood?"