Chapter 7: The Wrong Girl

James stood there in his doorway, his sobbing, newly divorced ex-girlfriend in his arms and wondered what the hell he'd done in a previous life to deserve the day he'd had. Not knowing exactly what to do he smoothed down Thalia's hair.

"Thal, come on, let's go inside. Come on." He led her inside, deposited her on the sofa and went back to close the door. After doing so he stood with his back against the door and looked at her. She was pitiful. Her blue hair, even after he'd tried to smooth it, was a complete mess. She was wearing dark green yoga pants with an oversize jumper, scrunched up at one sleeve as the other sleeve was currently serving as a handkerchief. For a moment he thought about getting her a glass for firewhiskey but thought better of it. With a steadying breath he walked over, sat on the sofa and took her hand.

"So what's wrong?"

Her response of 'everything' came out muffled from behind her sleeve. Eventually she wiped her nose again, lifted up her head and looked at him. Her eyes were red and puffy, her eye makeup had run and smeared across her cheeks. He'd seen that look before, once, when they'd fought about something he couldn't recall when they were dating. Surprisingly when they broke up for good it was much more calm.

She looked over, saw the remains of James' firewhiskey, grabbed it and shot it all down in one gulp. After wiping her mouth with the back of she fell back into the sofa. "I didn't know where else to go, James, I'm sorry I interrupted...it's just...I'm so alone. It's an appearance at this city, trying to record in the studio, back at a hotel and I'm always alone. Wait, that's not right, there's always people about, but they're waiters or housekeepers or recording engineers or some bloke from the war department or my new manager, and they mean well, but they don't really know me. And now, when everything else is falling apart around my ears, when I really need to talk to someone I'm just alone. I didn't know where else to go."

"Thal, 's ok. I don't mind. I know about being shuffled about and not having anyone."

"Bullshit." She shook her head. "You've always got your family and your teammates, not to mention...she didn't look like your usual type, Jamie."

"What, Alice? No, it wasn't like that. She...it's a long story and it doesn't matter, Thal. So what brought this on? You seemed like you had it together at the thing earlier today."

"I did, it's just...Cecily, my new manager, she told me that it's going to be in the papers tomorrow."

James didn't have to ask what 'it' was, he knew what it was, and he also knew that it would be manna from heaven for the tabloids. "Hey, you're not the first couple in the world to get a divorce, you know. Happens all the time." Immediately he regretted his words, so he fumbled quickly to say something, anything at all. "Use this to make you stronger, hell, make gold off of it. Write some new songs. Besides falling in love heartache is one of the...shit, I can't say anything right. Don't listen to me."

A slight smile flashed across her face. "You always were a smooth-talker, Jamie. Is that how you got her up here tonight? She doesn't seem like the ones I've seen you with in the papers. Have I seen her before?"

"Uh, actually, yeah, you have. I took her and a friend to meet you backstage a few years ago. She was thirteen or fourteen, don't remember. Had to talk her out of being a screamer."

"So tell me about her." Thalia wiped her eyes. "And could I have another drink?"

James adjusted his shoulders and leaned into the couch, further away from her. "Why the bloody hell should I tell you about her? There's nothing going on. And we're going from you sobbing into my shirt right into that? Why?"

"Because I need to think about somebody else and someone else's life besides my own, that's why. I want to know that even though I've failed spectacularly that love is still possible. And because you're a horrible liar, James Potter, there's something going on." She looked at him for a moment and rolled her eyes. "Merlin, you don't even realize it, do you? Pour me a firewhiskey. Please, James?"

He got up, almost angry at her, and went into the kitchen. Something going on with Alice Longbottom? She must be crazy. After retrieving a glass from the kitchen counter, one that had been drying on the rack, he sat back down, poured her a drink and handed it to her. "I think you're barmy, Thal. There's nothing going on with Alice."

"Let me be the judge of that, Jamie." She shot back half of the firewhiskey, settled into the sofa and kicked off her shoes. "Do you have an afghan or something?"

"Sure." He took out his wand and summoned the blue and gold afghan Granny Weasley had made for him after he signed with Puddlemere. After she wrapped it around her legs and her waist he moved a cushion and leaned into the other end of the sofa. "I really think you're wrong on this one. She's just a friend, really. We were in Gryffindor when we went to Hogwarts. Her parents and my parents went to school together, and her dad and my dad...you know that story."

"No, I don't. I know about your father from history books, obviously, but why don't you educate me? I was homeschooled, you know."

"Fine. Alice's dad is Neville Longbottom, he and my dad were roommates..."

"Neville Longbottom? Really? The Snakeslayer?"

"Jesus, don't ever call him that, he fucking hates it, but yeah, Neville's her dad. So obviously you know about that stuff, so I'll just skip to when when I was little. The Longbottoms used to come over all the time to Grimmauld, we lived there back then, before Mum and Dad built the place in Godric's Hollow. Anyway she's just always been around. We didn't talk to each other too much at school, since she's five years younger than me. I'd see her every now and then at the Leaky Cauldron, since her mum runs the place and she helps out. You probably don't remember, but she and another friend of the family's daughter got tickets to your show and I sent you the owl about backstage passes. From there I'd see her every now and then at the Leaky, but when we ended up on holiday together..."

"You went on holiday?"

"Not on purpose. We both used the same shit travel agent."

For the next hour or so James relayed the story of his holiday on Bluebeard's Island in 'West Carolina.' As he told Thalia the events she laughed in certain places, commiserated in others, and listened as he described exactly how he'd ended up in an advert for an old person's resort. When he'd finished, though, he wasn't sure if it was the right thing to do, as Thalia looked at him very oddly.

"James, you spent basically a week alone with Alice. No, I know, it wasn't like that, but bear me out. Do you remember when you went on tour with me, what it was like? You whinged the entire time. You were on an island with her, doing nothing but spending time together, reading, playing cards with pensioners and you left and committed yourself to those horrible adverts rather than sully her reputation with yours. You enjoyed yourself, didn't you?"

"I guess..."

"I guess my arse." She sat up, drawing her knees up, clasped her hands together and rested her chin on top. "We wouldn't have lasted there for one day, let alone as long as you did. She doesn't treat you like those other tarts, does she?"

"No, not at all." James ran a hand through his hair and crossed his arms behind his head. "She's known me too long. Plus I've spent a ton of time in detention with her dad."

"And why was she over here tonight? In what looked like house slippers?"

"Oh. Yeah. That." James rolled his eyes and once again took the time to tell her what had happened, not believing that the crazy evening actually just happened not hours ago.

"And I came here and threw myself into your arms, wailing like a banshee." Thalia winced. "I'm sorry, Jamie. I hate to think what's going on in her head right now. She didn't have to come back here, you know. She could have sent you an owl. Girls don't show up at a bloke's flat at this time of night, in their pajamas and house slippers, if they don't trust someone. She trusts you, James. More than that, actually." She shook her head. "What am I going to do with you?"

"Me? What about you? You're the one who came over here, looking a complete and utter wreck, and now you're sitting there telling me that I'm...I'm..."

"I'm telling you that you have feelings for her, Jamie. You do. It may not be love, exactly, but you treat her differently than anybody else. It's obvious to me, anyway." She shrugged. "That's what friends do, tell each other things that are as obvious as the nose on your face."

"We are friends, aren't we?" James shook his head in disbelief. "I've never stayed friends with someone I've dated. It all ends horribly."

"We ended horribly the first time, if you remember. Or was it the third? I've lost count. But the fact remains, sweetie, that you're treating her differently than anyone else, even me. Just think on it." She moved the afghan off and swung her legs over the edge of the sofa. "I don't envy you, though, trying to explain what happened tonight, and I'm sorry about that, I really am. Maybe I should send her an owl..."

"Godric, no, don't do that." He groaned. "Besides, I don't think its like you say. We're just friends, Thal."

"No, Jamie." She went over to the sofa and kissed him on the forehead. "You and I, we're friends. It's not the same. Think about it. And thank you for tonight, I don't feel so alone now."

She slipped on her shoes, went to the door, and just before she turned the doorknob she turned back, smiled, and left.

-ooo-

James woke up late the next day, as he hadn't been able to get to bed until right before the sun began to rise. He rolled over, looked at the clock and realized it was almost noon, that he never really did eat anything approaching a reasonable facsimile of supper, and that he was starving. He immediately thought about getting dressed and heading to the Leaky, but suddenly the idea of stopping by the pub filled him with anxiety. He wasn't sure he was ready to see Alice, not after last night. Thalia's words started replaying in his head, and he began wondering if she might actually be right; did he really think of Alice that way?

Shoving aside those thoughts he made his way into the loo, took care of bodily necessities, and wandered into his kitchen. The supplies were meager, to say the least. After fixing a sandwich with some ingredients of questionable age he settled back on the sofa, flicked on the WeasleyVision and began watching the news.

The first report was for the weather, forecasting rain all day, not a surprise, but the next piece was about Thalia. The graphic had a picture that looked like a photo of Bradley and Thalia, but ripped down the middle, separating the two of them. The newsreader seemed almost gleeful in her description of how the famous blue-haired pop star and her manager were calling it quits. He didn't want to hear how they went after Thalia, and had reached for the remote when he saw a picture of himself with Thalia at some event. The newsreader then speculated that James was the cause of the breakup, as unnamed sources reported that Thalia was last seen leaving James' building very early that morning.

"Fucking hell." He turned off the set in disgust and tossed the remote into an empty chair. "Fucking hell."

James was tired of the wizarding world, tired of being followed, tired of being photographed, tired of his life being played out in magazines and on the WeasleyVision, tired of...everything. He knew he led a privileged life, not only because of his profession but because of his last name, but sometimes the negatives outweighed the positives. He stood in his living room, in his boxer shorts, and decided that he was tired of it all and by Godric he wasn't going to deal with it, at least not that day.

Twenty minutes later he exited his flat wearing a flat cap, a hiking jacket he'd picked up in Wales and corduroy trousers, a pair of hiking boots on his feet that he'd bought a while back but had never worn. The man in the shop said they were waterproof, and he felt like testing that out. After Apparating to a secluded spot he began his walk through Muggle London, destination anywhere he would just blend into the crowd. He kept his head down, walking briskly, moving out of the way of the umbrellas as other people made their way through the city. Somehow or another he found himself in Trafalgar Square, smack dab in front of the National Gallery of Art. The rain continued to pelt down, harder, and he finally gave up and decided that he'd risk the crowds.

Luckily there was no entrance fee, as he'd forgotten to bring any Muggle money, so instead he made his way to the loo, checked to see if the place was empty and quickly dried his clothing with his wand. The man at the shop had lied, as his feet were soaked, and even the efforts of the drying spell couldn't fully restore his socks. He exited the loo squishing slightly, hoping nobody would hear the embarrassing sounds coming from his feet.

The gallery, surprisingly, was rather sparsely occupied. As he wandered amongst the paintings James wondered if it was due to the fact that it was almost lunch time, not to mention that it was raining crups and kneazles. Some things caught his attention, specifically some pieces by some Muggle named Van Gogh, but it was when he stood in front of a painting of a nude woman, looking into a mirror held by a small child, that he found himself transfixed.

Cautiously he looked at the little placard and read the words, for some reason out loud, in a quiet voice. "The Rokeby Venus. Diego Velázquez." He glanced up at the nude figure, facing away from him. "Nice arse."

"Thank you."

James looked around, startled. Nobody was in the same room. Finally he looked back to the painting and there, in the mirror, the woman's face smiled at him. He stepped forward as closely as he dared and in a hesitant voice addressed the painting. "Bloody hell, you're a wizarding portrait?"

The woman giggled. "Yes, though the placard is wrong. Velázquez didn't paint me, but the wizard made everyone think so. I think he did wonderfully, don't you?"

"Uh, yeah." In a fit of desperation, and hoping that he could hide from the Muggle cameras that were sure to be fixed on him, James surreptitiously took out his wand, held it under his jacket and cast Muggle-repelling spells on the doorways. "So, were you a witch?"

"Oh no." The face in the mirror took on a wistful expression. "I was not a witch, but he loved me anyway. That's why he painted me as Venus, you see. To him I was the embodiment of love." She batted her eyes at him. "He said he always wanted to see me in love, to gaze upon my face and see my love reflected back at him."

James flashed back to the conversation he'd had with Thalia the night before and suddenly an image of Alice Longbottom on the beach at that island went to the forefront of his brain.

"Oh, so you understand, for you are also in love."

"I...I don't think so."

"You are. I should know, as I am Venus, the goddess of love." Suddenly a cherub in a different style flitted into the painting, whispered something in her ear and vanished. "A tour is coming, you'll have to cease your magic. Return to my painting soon and bring your love."

After her final word ceased the painting once again became lifeless and James hurried with his wand, almost fumbling and dropping it on the floor. He quickly ceased the spell, right before the tour walked in. People crowded around the official tour guide and James walked away as quickly as he could without drawing attention.

Once again entering into the lovely London rain James walked along, his head swimming. Was he actually in love? Thalia thought so, and so did that mental painting, but...he didn't really know Alice that well. Sure, he'd been on holiday with her, and enjoyed himself immensely, but it wasn't like the other women he'd dated. Hell, he was a perfect gentleman! Well, not perfect, he'd caught himself staring a bit when they'd gone swimming, and the way she walked, the way her hair blew about in the ocean air on that beach, how she sat and concentrated while playing cards, how she treated him...and then there was that little skip when she showed up at his door the other night.

He almost walked into the road, right into traffic, and was pulled back at the last minute by a man.

"Jesus, kid, you trying to off yourself? Wait for the light." The man shook his head and walked away, down the pavement.

The painting had to be wrong. He wasn't in love. Something was probably wrong with the painting. That was it, the painting was loony from hanging in that gallery for years and years. There was one person he knew that would tell him if the painting was barmy, but he didn't really know her that well. Then again, he did take her and Alice to that concert of Thalia's years ago. She owed him. After a few moments James walked away, found a deserted, hidden alley and Apparated away.

-ooo-

Colony House looked the same as always, a neatly manicured path to the front door, shed off to the side with the old Muggle van and little Muggle car, and James tried to remember the last time he'd been there. As he searched his memory and headed towards the front door he finally remembered; the Muggle Studies party his fifth year, the last year he'd taken the class. He wiped the rain out of his eyes, took off his flat cap and knocked on the door.

A few moments later Melody Boyd answered the door with a surprised look upon her face. "James? What are you doing out there in the rain? Come in, come in."

After entering and shoving his cap in his back pocket James looked around. "Uh, sorry to bother you Mrs. Boyd, but is Virginia here?"

"Gin?" Melody shook her head. "No, she's at work. Something I can do for you? How about a cup of tea, you look like a drowned rat."

James knew that for the sake of politeness and manners he couldn't refuse. "That would be great, thanks."

Melody waved him over to the kitchen. "Have a seat and I'll put the kettle on." As she went in and started the kettle she took out the tea things, including a package of Muggle tea biscuits. "Hank loves these things, I told him I'd make him some but you know him, a creature of habit."

James chuckled. "Oh yeah, Professor Muggle is definitely that. You could practically set your watch by things in his class."

"Mmmhmmm." Melody nodded slightly and gave him an appraising smile. "Just like he knew when you were going to do something to get a detention. But I'm sure you didn't come to relive your past, you needed to speak to Virginia? I could Floo her, since...well, I probably should anyway. I'm afraid she butts heads quite often with her department head, so I'll just say I need her for a special assignment. This way I'll get to find out what she's been up to; she's been secretive lately."

"Slytherin, you know." James shrugged. "She can't help it."

"Right. Watch the kettle, please."

Melody left the kitchen to go over to the fireplace to Floo call Witch Weekly and left him alone. As he overheard her exerting her authority as the editor of Witch Weekly James began to think that the trip to Colony House wasn't one of his best ideas; he was sure that Virginia would listen to his request and give him some sort of sarcastic remark and then it would get back to his mum because Melody would Floo her and...

"She'll be over in a few minutes." Melody went back to the kitchen and began making tea. She was almost finished, and had just pulled a third cup out of the cupboard when the unmistakable sound of the Floo was heard, followed shortly by Virginia Boyd.

"Are you sacking me? Mum? Is that why you...oh look what the kneazle threw up, James Potter." Virginia walked over to the table, sat down and propped her chin in her hand, causing the multitude of bangle bracelets she always wore to jingle slightly. "What brings you out here? London boring you these days?"

"Uh, not exactly." James took the teacup from Melody. "'Thank you, Mrs. Boyd."

"James, stop it." Melody gave him an exasperated look. "I've known you all your life, you're old enough to call me by my name, now." She turned to her oldest daughter and handed her a cup of tea. "He came out here looking for you."

"Me? Really?" Gin's tone was suspicious. "And why are you looking for me, James?"

For a split-second James seriously considered making up some far-fetched yarn and leaving as quickly as he could, but the painting had rattled him somewhat. "You know about magical portraits and paintings, right? Had a crazy thing happen today and I wanted to see if you could check it out. It was at the National Gallery in London, just happened a few hours ago, and..."

"Hold up." Gin took a sip of her tea and leaned forward, sniffing the air. "You don't smell drunk, so that's out. You were at the National Gallery? Why, I didn't know you were such an art lover."

"I'm not, actually, I just went for a walk and it started bucketing down and it was the closest thing. So, can you come see it?"

Gin looked over at her mum. "You're the boss. Can I take the rest of the day, Mum?"

"After tea." Melody adjusted her glasses and fixed her daughter with a pointed look. "Right now I'd like to hear why you haven't invited me over yet. I know your flat is small, but I'd like to see what it looks like now that you're all moved in. I just saw it when we helped you move..."

After leaning over and cupping her hand around James' ear Gin stage-whispered "Be glad you don't work for your mum. Loads of guilt with the paycheck."

James didn't talk much as they had tea, as most of the time was spent with Melody and Gin going back and forth about the difficulties at Witch Weekly, arranging a date to visit Gin in her flat, and how Gin's little sisters, the twins, were doing at Hogwarts. Finally, though, just as his nerves were about shot Gin stood up, said goodbye to her mum, and took him by the arm. He had only thanked Melody for the tea when Gin drug him out the door and began walking away from Colony House at a brisk pace.

"That was a good one, James, you going to the National Gallery. Tell me what's really going on...you want me to paint one of your girlfriends? If want her to be starkers it'll cost you extra, I'll need alcohol to get me past that."

"No, I'm not kidding, that's why I came to see you. Sorry, I forgot that you moved into that flat. I'm sure somebody mentioned it a while back but I can't remember."

"Really? Honestly, that's why you came out here?" Gin pushed her hair back, the long ponytail bouncing as she walked. "Ok, then let's Apparate out of here, I don't feel like drowning in front of my parents' house."

Eventually James and Gin stood in front of the Rokeby Venus, alone. Gin had done better than James' previous visit, as she had cast localized versions of the Muggle-repelling and muffliato spells. They stood there, alone, a ten meter radius around the painting, while Muggles looked at the other works.

Gin stood there and stared at James, hoping he would get the hint. James, however, was still entranced by the nude. Finally, after Gin elbowed him in the ribs, James stepped forward.

"Hello again, it's me."

The face in the mirror became clear and the eyes batted with life. "Ah, so you're back, and so soon! But you've brought the wrong girl."

Gin stepped up to the painting and began examining it in detail. "Definitely not a Velázquez. Composition and brushwork makes me think of the Santo de Magia school."

"That's where he learned, he told me." The Venus smiled. "But I promised I would never reveal his name. I was not his only love, you see. It was not proper for a wizard to love a woman that was not a magical."

"Some things haven't changed." Gin rolled her eyes. "Thankfully it isn't as bad now, but back then? James, they would have done awful things to her." She looked at the painting again. "And what did you mean that I'm the 'wrong girl?' I'm..."

"You are not the one he loves. You have an eye for art, but you dress in black. I do not understand, you should know these things. Look in his eyes and tell me what you see."

James tried to turn away but Gin grabbed his arm. "Ok, James, let's humor the naked lady." She turned him towards her and looked at him intently. "Looks to me like you slept horribly, but that's about it."

The Venus' voice came lilting from the wall. "He is not thinking of her, he is trying to hide it. Think of her."

Almost as if he was imperiused James thought back on Alice's last visit, how they'd sat on his sofa, talking, how she..."

"Bloody hell." Gin shook her head and let go of his arm. "You got the weirdest look, something I've never seen on you, that's for sure. That smartass, cocky 'I'm a big, bad professional Quidditch player' look..." She turned to the Venus. "Did that wizard do anything else besides impart your essence in the painting? And how did he do that, exactly, if you're a Mugg...if you're not a witch?"

The Venus' lips curled in the mirror. "Oh, he was a very talented man, in so many ways. He said he mixed the paints with special ingredients. I believe it was one of the reasons I survived when so many paintings were destroyed during that horrible time."

Gin leaned forward and read the placard. "You survived the Spanish Inquisition? A nude of the Roman goddess of love survived? There's more in that paint than meets the eye, I think." She leaned over and pulled James down to her so she could whisper in his ear. "Possibly amortentia, maybe some veritaserum, which would explain things, but I don't know how it would settle with the oils."

"Why so secretive, my dear?" The Venus smiled. "Are you afraid you will tell him about the one you love?"

Gin stiffened, released James and took a step back. "I think our time is up." Without warning she secretly took out her wand, canceled the spells and grabbed James' arm. "Come on, we're leaving."

James couldn't say a word, but instead let himself be half-dragged out of the room. After leaving the gallery and returning back to the street he watched as Gin made her way purposely through the rain-splattered pavements. The hard rain had stopped, only a fine mist fell. Finally he couldn't take it any longer. "What the bloody hell just happened? Gin!" He reached out and grabbed her arm, causing her to stop suddenly. "What..."

"She's right. There's someone in your life, she could tell. If you tell me it's Smurfette I'm going to brain you."

"I have no idea who that is, one of those Muggle things? You know I didn't pay attention in your dad's class."

"The pop tart, Thalia." Gin rolled her eyes. "Saw it on the WeasleyVision, along with your picture. If you broke up her marriage..."

"That's what you think of me? Fuck." James let go of her arm and walked over to a nearby bench. He stared at his shoes until he realized Gin had sat next to him. "No, it's not Thalia, though she came over last night. We're just friends, honestly and truly, we are. She doesn't have a lot of friends. I thought she was just overly emotional, you know, since everything in her world's gone to shit, but she said pretty much what the damn woman in the painting said."

"Hmmm." Gin sat back on the bench and closed her eyes, letting the soft moisture fall on her face. "Let's see. I had breakfast this morning with Alice and she was a complete grump. There was this holiday that she went on and wouldn't tell me a damn thing about what happened, and then there's...oh fuck me." Gin stood up quickly and pulled James to his feet. "No, turn around." She spun him so that his back was towards her and then walked several meters away. After shielding her eyes she walked back to James, in front of him, and smiled. "I saw the advert with you for that horrible old fart's holiday island and thought something was familiar. You two have distinctive hair, plus your build...you know I paint, James, that's why you brought me here. I know what people look like, and those two people on that beach? That's you and Alice, isn't it?"

As James looked at her words tried to come out of his mouth but got all tangled up in his throat. Finally, though, he nodded. The affirmation of Gin's question seemed to be the straw that broke the camel's back as he eventually found his voice. "Yeah. It is."

The lights began flicking on for Gin. "She's been grumpy, you haven't been in the papers, well, not until the whole Thalia Rauge divorce thing, the starkers lady in the painting said I was the wrong girl...James Potter and Alice Longbottom, somebody would win a million Galleons on that one." As fear flashed across James' face for a moment Gin laughed. "Oh come on, Potter. I was in Slytherin. Somebody would have figured it out eventually. So what are you going to do now? I think she's working at the Leaky if you want to go get a bite."

"I...I...I have no idea what I'm going to do. I didn't even know I felt, I mean, we had a great time on holiday, and..."

"Fucking hell, don't fall apart on me." Gin laughed. "I'm not going to go pick out a dress for the wedding right yet, I don't know whether it will be a spring wedding or not. Hope not, those are always outside and it doesn't matter what spell you do your heels stick in the grass." Her snarky expression faded. "Listen, I'm just..James, you're just figuring this out, aren't you? Right here, right now, you're just figuring this out. Right?"

The words came out in a rush. "I have no idea what to do. I've never really been on a real date, I usually just end up going to a bar or someplace and they make the first move and then we go get drinks and pop back to my flat. I can't do that with her. I'd take her out to eat but she went to that school and...what if she says no? I don't really know her that well, but we had such a good time on holiday, what if it was only a holiday thing? Then what do I do?" He frowned as Gin began to laugh. "Stop it, it isn't funny."

"It's a little funny. James Potter, the man whose bedpost has so many notches it probably looks like a kneazle scratching post, all nervous with no confidence. This is brilliant."

"Slytherin git."

"Well, if you're a Gryffindor use some of that famous courage." She pulled her long ponytail over her shoulder. "I don't know if I should tell you or not, but lately she's developed into something of a Quidditch fan. Some team with blue colours. Maybe it's the Kestrels." She rolled her eyes. "Come on, put on your big boy trousers and do something. Ask her out on a date, that's what most normal people do."

"But I've never really dated anyone, well, except Thalia. And that wasn't exactly normal."

"I said do what normal people do, James, not that you're normal. Ask her out on a date."

"I doubt she'll want to go, after last night." He saw Gin give him a dirty look. "No, not like that. Come on, let's go get a drink. I can use one after all of..." he waved his arms in the general direction of the National Gallery "...after all of that. I'll tell you what happened, but you can't tell anyone, ok?"

Gin mimed zipping her lips together and throwing away a key. "Fine, but you're buying, Mr. Galleons."