CHAPTER THREE: Let the Games Begin

9:56 pm. Day Three of official employment. Current mood: strangely impressed.

"The Falmouth Falcons are in for it. Their dirty plays would be no match for us, come Sunday in three weeks time. Let those idiot Beaters try to knock Puddlemere out, but they won't be able to catch us. Let their Keeper fruitlessly attempt to block our goals, there's no point in even trying. The League Cup may as well have our names charmed onto it already, my friends. They may as well hand it over now!"

James' impressively delivered speech was followed by a roar from his teammates and a series of high-fives. Watching over from the stands like a mother would a toddler; Lily found it hilarious to watch a group of supposedly professional Quidditch players act like teenagers. It reminded her so much of Gryffindor Tower the night before a match. How no one got any sleep, either because they were too excited or they were busy cheering and helping themselves to some smuggled Firewhiskey. No wonder they lost so many matches to Slytherin.

How did James Potter manage to play Quidditch for six hours straight and then get bored with one measly hour of paperwork? Couldn't he sit still for longer than a minute? How did he survive flying around a stadium in circles for hours without getting sick? How did he survive flying, for one thing?

Lily sighed and went back to her paperwork. She had insisted on coming out and accompanying James to his Quidditch practice, sure that one moment of unsupervised play-time would result in drunken partying and another arrest. She hadn't started trusting him yet. Every time she considered doing so, she reminded herself that he stole her caramel-coated hazelnut chocolates. That sort of thing doesn't go unnoticed.

She still had no idea where she was going with this. With James, Alison had left her with the hardest possible job in the field, cold turkey. If she was going to turn the man into some sort of saint, she would have to do it gradually. For the magical world to accept that he'd changed would take months, possibly even years. She'd start off with booking him into magical rehabilitation. She'd schedule press conferences where he publically apologises for his actions – not that he had never done that before – and set up interviews with reporters from the Daily Prophet and Witch Weekly where he'd give an exclusive insight into his life and the horror it has become. Alternatively, she could just leave him be. Let him party and drink, do whatever he did before. It would be easier, almost guarantee her some sort of internship if it looked like she tried. Perhaps she could even join….

"Oi! Evans!"

Lily had barely enough time to glance in the direction the noise came from. Her paperwork all but exploded out of her hands as James Potter swooped over her head at full speed, quickly followed by the rest of his stupid team. One by one they flew over her, almost knocking her out, before showing off some sort of aerial trick and filing into line again. There were more cheers, high-fives and howling at the moon. Merlin, what - were they, werewolves?

The clock hit ten in the middle of their ritual howling and like small children, they obediently left the airspace and returned to the changerooms on the top floor of the stadium.

"Evans!"

The Puddlemere Captain floated a few feet above her, the same smart-arse grin on his face as a couple of days before. The grin he'd worn when he stole her caramel-coated hazelnut chocolates. Lily looked down and hastily pulled her jacket across her, blocking his view of her chest. Her face reddened to rival her hair.

"Shall we do dinner next?"

10:35 pm. Day Three of official employment. Current mood: suspicious.

"So you still haven't figured something out yet? I must say, that's very sloppy Evans. Three days and not a single thing done? I may have to cut your pay."

James laughed at his hilarious joke and helped himself to another forkful of a medium-rare steak, ignoring the sauce that splashed back onto his plate. Lily stared back at him, unsure of what to think of the situation. When he had said he would take her out for dinner, Lily had been expecting some sort of Muggle pub or the Leaky Cauldron, not the magical equivalent of Restaurant Gordon Ramsey. It was beautiful really, reminiscent of the Hogwarts Great Hall. There were chandeliers everywhere, floating candles and plates full of food zooming from the kitchen to tables spread across the room. She felt out of place in her blouse and skirt amongst all the expensive silk robes of the other witches and wizards in the restaurant. How on earth did Potter get a table here? Bribe the owner? Blackmail the chef? Sleep with the maitre d'?

Lily mentally backpedaled and returned to her bouillabaisse. On second thought, she'd rather not question it.

"You did well today, with your team. I had no idea they looked up to you that much." She said, absent-mindedly stabbing a tomato with her fork. James gave her another one of his patented smiles.

"It's all good. I gave the same speech last year and….uh….well you know what happened." How could Lily not? Sirius Black, Beater for Puddlemere United, had gotten a brilliant idea two nights before the final game. He went out, got drunk, and started a pub brawl with the Montrose Magpie's Seeker, Lennox Campbell. Naturally, once the Magical Law Enforcement Squad had broken it up, he was suspended for the remainder of the season, leaving Puddlemere without their best Beater, and giving the Magpies the League Cup for the second year in a row. It was remembered as Puddlemere's darkest hour, a title hard to achieve with James Potter as captain.

"I clearly remember the headline of the Prophet. 'Magpies Make A Splash at Puddlemere Game'." Whether she liked the sport or not, it was hard for Lily not hear about every Quidditch victory or loss in her line of work. Everyone knew everyone else, and there was always a Quidditch fan inside one of them. Even she, who really only had Izzy Skeptor, was up-to-date with the latest news. She liked to compare the wizarding world's love for Quidditch to Muggles' obsession with football.

"I never let Sirius live that one down, you know. I never let him near a Firewhiskey for about a month before a match." James took a swig of butterbeer from his glass, "He may be my best mate, but he's completely mad when he's drunk!"

"I get the impression you are too." Lily muttered under her breath, covering up with a sip of wine.

James Potter could be charming when he wanted to be, Lily decided when she returned to her apartment sometime in the early morning. Where was that man she went to dinner with hiding when he went out to party and drink? Where was that man when he almost knocked her out on the Quidditch pitch earlier that evening? There was definitely more to James Potter, Chaser than met the eye, though Lily wasn't sure which side was the real one.

9:03 am. Day Six of official employment. Current mood: cheerful.

Six days into official employment, Lily was beginning to relax. What was there to think about really? She had a beautiful office, a decent-paying job for a decent, if childish man. She could have all the double-strength skim mocha cappuccinos and caramel coated hazelnut chocolates she wanted. Just by looking like she was trying, she was practically guaranteed some sort of job after a year here.

The one thing she needed to do was put a better locking charm on her door.

Stretched out in her desk chair, touching up her makeup to suit the lighting of the sky office, sat Izzy Skeptor. She smirked, snapped her mirror shut and swiveled around to face Lily.

"Nice office." She greeted with a purple framed smile, "Reminds me of my old one down at Rancorn before I got promoted. Of course, my one now is much larger. You could play Quidditch in it if you wanted, as dear Harvey pointed out to me when I first got it. Stage a mock match for a photoshoot or something, he suggested. Naturally, I took the idea and now, look! My shoot is going to be used on next week's Witch Weekly! Though of course, you would know all about Witch Weekly wouldn't you, Lily? Being on this edition's cover and all with one James Potter. Really, what happened to the Lily I was talking to last week, the one repulsed by the man? Fallen for his drunken charms have we?"

Nice to see you too, Izzy. Lily shut the door behind her and stared at her friend, mouth ajar in confusion.

"I-I'm sorry, what?"

Izzy spared her another lecture and conjured a copy of the familiar magazine into Lily's hands. Lily felt her stomach drop. Smack bang on the front cover of Witch Weekly was a photo of her and Potter, laughing over dinner together. It must have been taken the night of his Quidditch practice, the night they'd finally started getting along. The title, written in a disgusting pink colour, read 'Has James Potter found a new woman? Read inside for the full story on his newfound romance'. Lily dropped the magazine on the desk, shocked.

"What is this?" She asked, looking back and forth between the accusing cover and the devil with purple lipstick.

"I thought you should know, before it gets ugly" What was this? Izzy Skeptor, the woman who never had nothing to do and nowhere to be, had come up to see her on a mid-week morning with this? Why not send an owl, or a box of chocolates as comfort food? Not even a Bertie Bott's Milkshake to go?

"Why are you here?" Izzy turned away to face the window, but Lily saw the glint of delight in her eye, the one that preceded a "Skeptor rant".

"Well, I was on my way to talk to Harvey about a possible promotion. Apparently Miss Stern is in need of a mentor or something, I don't know, but it pays brilliantly, and I need some new dress robes since my idiot husband accidentally set them on fire last week. So, on my way, I overhear these two interns, you probably know them from Hogwarts, Jessica Breeze and Gretchen Howers, very nice young girls, discussing one Mr. James Potter, captain of the Puddlemere United team. Now with you as his new publicist I said to myself 'oh, what has my dear Lily cooked up now?' - expecting some sort of amazing transformation from the man. I ask to see the magazine they're sharing. And you know what I saw? This rather stunning picture of you and Mr. James Potter at that classy restaurant on Fifth Street! Now, that caption is rather confronting, don't you think? And I personally didn't believe it at the time, but the girls filled me in, and you know what? You two are destined for this year's most scandalous couple!"

Izzy's speech was having the impact she had intended. Lily slowly sat down in her chair, her expression evolving from shocked to horrified to outright annoyed. By the end of it, the poor girl had her head on her desk, moaning about some Muggle drink. The devil took pity, lightly patting her head, light enough to make sure she could clear away if it suddenly burst into flames.

"I'm terribly sorry Lily, to leave you like this, but I must run. I have a press conference in half an hour and I'm ninety percent sure that dear Peter has forgotten about it. Wish me luck!" There was a sharp crack, and in an instant Izzy was gone. Lily hit her head against the desk one more time for good measure.

9:30 am. Day Six of official employment. Day One of apparent relationship. Current mood: sure something bad is about to happen. Oh wait, it already has.

James Potter lived in the spacious top flat of an apartment block bordering a Quidditch pitch. It actually explained a lot about the man, but Lily wasn't considering that. He answered at the third knock.

"Evans! What a surprise. I'm afraid I haven't fireproofed the flat yet, but you're welcome t-" Lily pushed past him. James raised his eyebrows, but closed the door behind her and motioned for her to take a seat on one of the lounges. She didn't do so, instead pulling out the copy of Witch Weekly from her bag and presenting it to him. The man remained unfazed.

"Huh, they've gotten quicker at it. Took 'em a couple of weeks to report Alison as my girlfriend." He took the pink magazine from Lily's hands and dropped it carelessly on the dragonhide rug, waltzing right past her to the kitchen. Lily was again rendered speechless. She'd expected more of a reaction, even if it were a smirk and a "well it was inevitable, right?"

"You-you knew about this?" She questioned incredulously, following him through the apartment. James shrugged and brought a mug of tea over to her, again gesturing for her to sit down. How could he be so composed? Ignore it and offer her tea like any other day? Is he actually clinically insane?

"Not exactly, but it isn't the first time I've been accused of sleeping with someone." He admitted with a grin and a rather proud tone. Lily reluctantly took the mug and sipped, "Careful, your hair might heat it and burn it." He added. She ignored him.

"I didn't see anyone with a camera."

"I didn't either. They hide them, in glasses and menus and candles."

The two sat in silence for a while. James was truly amazed that her hair didn't set the kitchen on fire, the way it seemed to be radiating off heat. Lily meanwhile, was trying to pull herself back together. No matter how nice the tea was, she really needed a Draught of Peace until she could relax again. That or a double-strength skim mocha cappuccino.

"We'll have to use this to our advantage." She announced eventually, raising her head to look Potter in the eye. The single term that was native to both of their ears seemed to pike his interest, "What would the public do when they see their favourite rebel Quidditch captain's new girlfriend try to whip him into shape? Of course, that would require some brilliant charm on your side and some putting aside of dignity on mine." James took a moment to consider her proposition; Lily could practically hear the cogs and wheels spinning around inside his head. It was amazing that they were loud enough to surpass his ego.

"That is an excellent game plan Evans. Very sneaky." A smirk crept onto Lily's face, "I knew there was a reason I liked you."

Their deal was set with a toast.

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Harry Potter.

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