Hello, and welcome to my story! As you have probably guessed from the description, this is a Muggle AU fanfiction. I hope you like it!
The First Meeting
Lily
As a young girl, I had dreamed of many things – becoming rich, meeting new people, visiting many places around the world, falling in love, getting married – and many more. But becoming the owner of a huge bar in one of the busiest areas of London at the age of twenty-five wasn't one of them.
It had been about a month since that day when my father had called me up to his study late at night, and told me that he was handing over 'Leaky Cauldron' to me. I was obviously stunned, since Leaky Cauldron was the place where it all began for them. One of my father's friends had given him the land, and he had started up the football-themed bar. My mother was one of the first employees, and soon they hit it off. As the bar took off, so did their relationship, and they soon ended up getting married. In the meantime, they had established some other businesses as well, which also took off due to their brand name.
So, you can understand why I was so surprised that he would hand over the bar to me, at the tender age of twenty-five. But he was stubborn, saying that he believed I had the capability to further improve it and become well-known. Being quite perceptive, I knew there were other reasons for the move as well. And, if I knew my father correctly, the bar reminded him too much of my mother. She had passed away quite recently from cancer, and my father was distraught. He spent a week holed up in his study, crying and trying to drink away his sorrows. He did not even go to the bar, as it no doubt reminded him of her.
So there was nothing I could do but smile and accept the offer. My father gave me a smile of gratitude and told me I could renovate the bar if I wished to. That I did, for I felt that I owed him that much. My parents clearly loved each other, and my mother wouldn't have wanted him to wallow in grief over her death. She would've wanted him to move on and be happy once again, and I felt that renovating the bar was a step in that direction.
Within a week, the work was done, and the customers came flooding back once again. One advantage of being a football-bar-cum-restaurant situated in such close proximity to two main football stadiums, was that there was never a shortage of customers. Every match day, the bar was full. And there was a steady rush on week-days as well. So overall, the bar was doing quite well.
Today, I was just sitting in the office, going over various bookings and the transactions for the next week, when my assistant, Mary, knocked on my door and slipped in.
"Hi, Mary! What brings you here?" I asked her, not looking up from the laptop just yet.
"Lily!" Mary shouted, "You've got to come to the restaurant, now!"
I looked up at her. She was looking at me, wide-eyed and panting, as if she had run up all the way from the restaurant on the second floor. I had never seen her quite like this before. Naturally, I assumed the worst.
"What? Why? What happened?" I stood up.
"It's James!" she cried.
"James, who?" I racked my mind. I knew the names of all my employees, as I treated them like my friends. No one named James worked at our bar.
"James Potter! He just walked in through the door, ordered a private booth, and asked for the manager!" She rushed out.
"What? James Potter is here? And he's asking for me?" I ask her. Mary just nodded in reply.
I quickly look at myself in the mirror, and rush to fix my make-up before meeting him. Though James Potter was just another customer, he was also a celebrity. He, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, and Peter Pettrigrew were the young, talented midfielders in the English National Team. They knew each other since birth, and had risen through the ranks together. They were also known as the Marauders, for the way they controlled the midfield against every opponent and destroyed their defense with their co-ordination and understanding. And James Potter was their offensive outlet. When he decided to score, no one could stop him.
I only hope I don't embarrass myself in front of him. It was not everyday we had one of the top 3 footballers of the world just walk into our bar.
I quickly rush down to him. Entering the restaurant floor, I immediately spot James in the far corner, sitting by himself in his booth and reading something, most probably a magazine.
I made my way towards him, noticing that he was reading Daily Football's latest article on him. I cringe, clearly remembering that the article was not something you could be proud of.
I should've introduced myself first, just as a normal human being would do, instead I blurted out, "You shouldn't pay any heed to that article, you know."
James looked up at me, and smiled, "I don't. However, it is funny to read some of these pieces, coming from people who probably have never kicked a football in their lives."
I nod furiously, agreeing completely, "Daily Football seems to the worst, though."
He laughed, "I take it you're Lily Evans?"
I nod, unable to talk and furiously fighting down the blush that threatened to spread on my face at his laugh. I shook my head. James didn't have a good reputation when it came to women. People said he picked up women, dated them, and then when he got bored, dumped them and moved on to the next willing woman.
He stood up, and I stared at him. He was wearing glasses (which was strange since I had thought he had perfect eyesight). His hair was still sticking up at random places, like it did when he played on the field. But what surprised me was his height. I was not short, at 5 feet 9, but he towered above me. I figured he was about 6 feet 4 inches tall. I broke out of my reverie when I noticed his outstretched hand.
"I'm James Potter, nice to meet you." He said, smiling that charming smile once again. "I have some queries, can we talk?"
"Yes, of course. But let's go back to my office, it's nearing 6 p.m. and rush hour begins soon. This floor will be crowded and I imagine you'll have quite a bad time there. Wouldn't want you injured before the World Cup again." I joked, only realizing that I had crossed the line when he winced.
Four years ago, when he was twenty-one, the Marauders were on the rise. Naturally, their stellar performance in the domestic league had earned them a call-up to the National Team. But, in just the first game of the World Cup, against defending champions Italy, he was tackled from behind by a Spanish defender, and his leg was broken. He was out of the World Cup after playing just half-an-hour in it, and had broken down in tears on the pitch. Without their offensive pivot, the remaining Marauders were incomplete, and they lost that game heavily. An injury to Lupin further weakened us, and we crashed out of the World Cup in the group stage. Spain went on to win for the third successive time.
"Sorry, that was too much." I apologized quickly.
He waved me off, "Doesn't change the fact it happened. Although, next time I meet them on the field, they're going to pay. Don't be sorry."
I decided not to speak anymore, lest my stupid mouth let out something stupid yet again. We reached our office, and entering it, I motioned him to sit in the sofa while I took my place behind my desk.
"So, what do need to talk about?" I asked him.
He didn't reply, instead looking all around the room, at the various photos hanging from the walls. I smiled, he was just as crazy about the game as I was. Letting him see the photos for a while, I cleared my throat.
"What…..Oh yes, sorry! I got caught up." He apologized, rubbing the back of his head. "You see, Sirius' birthday is coming up in ….. 26 days, and that will probably be the last time we can let ourselves relax before we pack up and begin to practice for the World Cup. So, uh, Remus, Peter and I decided that we should throw a proper party for him, which will serve both as his birthday party and our sort-of-good-luck-party. Naturally, I have many contacts, and most had this place high up on their list. So…uh…is the bar free that day?"
I nodded, and quickly checked the calendar. Twenty-six days from now meant…..the 29th of April. I smiled, seeing that it was indeed empty.
"Why, yes, Mr. Potter, it is free on the 29th. Would you like to book it right now?"
He nodded, and we quickly went over the formalities. Hardly twenty minutes had passed, but I had finished setting up the payment, briefing him about the options available to him. He was a good listener, unlike some customers.
"That was quick." He smiled, looking at the time. "Most other places I know of take nearly an hour to complete the booking process, if my sources are accurate."
I smirked, "That is why we're the best, Mr. Potter."
He cringed, "James. Call me, James. Mr. Potter sounds too old."
"Alright, James." I smile.
"Are you busy right now, Lily?" He asked.
I glanced at my watch. It was still only six thirty-five. I looked up at him, "No, surprisingly. I've finished all the required work for this week, so now I'll just lounge here on the sofa, wait for the building to become empty, lock up and then leave."
"You must be very rich, right?" James asked.
"Well, considering that I'm the owner of this place only because it reminded my father too much of my late mother, I'd rather have her back than be rich, thank you very much." I replied a bit too coldly. The subject of my mother's death was still a touchy topic.
"Sorry, I didn't know." He apologized. I looked at him. He seemed to be genuinely sorry.
"It's fine, you couldn't have known."
"So, as you are free, do you mind if I spend the rest of the evening here? It's not very often I get to chat with people who know football, and are not star-struck by my mere presence."
I thought over his proposal. James had been quite kind and welcoming, I suppose I could let him spend time here.
"Well, alright, but on one condition." I leaned forward.
"And what may that be?" He asked.
"You've got to tell me everything about how it is to be a world-famous footballer."
He smirked, "Deal."
The rest of the evening passed in a blur. We talked non-stop – on football, our lives, friends, preferences, dreams, embarrassing experiences and much more. He was pleasant to talk with, which was surprising considering the fact that he was a world-famous sportsperson. I had heard enough of celebrities from my parents to know that, apart from a select few, most were snobby and entitled. James, on the other hand, never once brought up his celebrity-status, unless I asked him specifically about it. He tried his best to not make me nervous, and it worked.
We ended up having dinner, and he insisted on meeting the staff afterwards. Many asked him for autographs and pictures, and he obliged happily. He seemed born for the spotlight.
At ten-thirty, the last of my staff left, leaving me alone in the building with James.
Nothing to be nervous about!
As I went to close up the building after the final check, I realized James had disappeared. Though I had only met him, I was disappointed. Sighing, I finished my round, and locked up the gates. I had just locked up the front doors and turned around when I spotted him, leaning on a red Ferrari. He was smirking.
"You're still here? I thought you left." I told him.
"Why would I leave? I didn't say goodbye, and after all, I still have one question." He replied.
I tilted my head, wondering what he could want. Maybe he had forgotten to ask something about Sirius' birthday party.
"Will you go out with me, Lily?"
I looked up at him, wide-eyed. That certainly wasn't what I was expecting.
In an instant, my impression of him came crashing down. I had thought that he was better than the media portrayed him. I liked the fact that he was such a good person, and spent the evening with me to rid me of my monotonous life. But, it seemed, after all, he was just that – a womanizer who made women fall with his sweet talk, and handsome face, and then used them.
"I thought you were better than this, James Potter!" I walked forwards and made to rush past him towards my car, but he caught me by my shoulders, and spun me around, so that I was facing him.
"Woah, Lily! Why did you get so angry?" He asked, genuinely confused. I didn't reply, not looking at his face. He seemed to understand, and then backed up.
"You believe those articles, right?" He asked.
My silence was enough of an answer.
"I can't believe this. I thought you looked past those. Do you really think so poorly of me, after the evening we spent?" His voice was rising.
"No." I squeaked out. "I don't know why I'm acting like this. I'm sorry! I know you're a good person, even though we've just met."
I looked up at him, and watched as his face soon broke out in a grin, "Well, then I have my answer."
"To what?"
"There is some other reason as to why you were so defensive when I asked you out. That reason is not me." He smiled, opening the door and getting in. He rolled down the windows and started his car.
"Well, I'll do this the old-fashioned way, then. I'll ask you out again, and next time I'm sure you will accept it." He smiled cheekily as he waved and drove off into the night.
I got into my car, and laid my head on the steering.
I wonder what I've got myself into this time…
I hope you liked this fic. Please Review it and point out mistakes and places where I can improve my writing. The second chapter will be out in about 4 days.
Thank you.