Disclaimer: I own nothing and am making no profit

Acknowledgments: Rpeh for the beta work.

8. Wandering

Sylvie Potter arrived about fifteen minutes early for her first day of work. She giggled when she thought of it as work. But it was true, she thought. Hopefully it was the only career she'd ever have.

She waved at the gate guards outside the players' entrance of the stadium. They told her to wait. Which irritated her. Whenever she'd visited Ballycastle with her father they'd just walked right in with a wave. But apparently, she wasn't important enough. Yet.

A team employee came out to greet her. She was a bubbly woman that claimed to be the assistant of the General Manager. She introduced herself but Sylvie was too busy being annoyed at having to wait to remember her name.

She found herself brought into the team locker room where a series of formal introductions were made in earnest. Isaac Dorian, the manager of the Wigtown Wanderers shook her hand once more. They'd met a couple of times already, including at the signing event. He introduced her to a variety of coaches.

The names sped by in rapid succession, Reggie West, Jose Garcia, James Parker, Mason Johnson and Jenni Karlsson filled out the coaching staff. She was directed to her locker where she saw her brand new equipment.

The Nimbus Wanderer broom was the first thing she touched. It was made of a dark cherry wood and the bristles were dyed silver to match the uniform. She gazed over at her sets of uniforms and pads next, all hanging in the locker.

They gave her the number fourteen. The last number on a traditional Quidditch team. She didn't like it. But Wigtown preferred to number their players that way. She'd have to earn the seven, which was currently hanging seven lockers to her left in the locker of Amelia Chambers, the starting seeker.

The team started to filter in. Sylvie was the only new addition to a rather old roster. Another string of introductions greeted her, at least this time she recognized most of the names. Their captain was a mid-thirties Chaser, Riley Brown. He was handsome and he knew it. Even the little Princess couldn't help but blush when he smiled at her.

The starting Beaters, a pair of Japanese Twins, Arata and Akira Miyazuma, were arguing with each other about something or other when they entered the locker room and started to change. They introduced themselves to Sylvie and continued getting ready.

The rest of Chaser line, Robinson and Ward, as well as a reservist and King were introduced so quickly she barely caught their names. And then Isaac Dorian was yelling at them to get to the pitch. Sylvie changed into her practice uniform and joined the rest of the team.

They waited for her to get into the air and she shot up expertly and flew a quick lap to get the feel for the broom. It was faster than her old broom, but they were fairly similar. There was some disappointment from the team that she didn't seem shocked on the new stick.

But, she reminded them with a tease, she'd flown a Cleansweep Bat for most of her Quidditch life. They teased her more about that, too. But then practice began in earnest.

There were some general team drills and flying exercises to begin. But a lot of that felt like review and warmup. Sylvie found herself on the far end of every drill as the team worked out.

After about an hour of team drills they switched to positional ones. Sylvie found herself floating with Amelia Chambers as James Parker ran them through a series of Seeker drills. They spent a great deal of time on hand-eye coordination and feints and general avoidance flying. In Wigtown the Seeker was often left to their own devices.

By the end of her first practice she felt more worn out than she could remember being by a Quidditch practice in a very long time. She changed back into her street clothing, sitting in the locker room as the team talked.

Riley Brown came over and sat next to her, telling her she flew well for her first practice and how he was happy to have her on his squad. He told her of a team tradition that involved taking the newbie to dinner and footing her with the bill. Normally, they only faked that part, but given that she had Potter money…

He was kidding, he assured her. And she found herself out to dinner with the Wigtown Wanderers. She enjoyed being the center of attention at that welcoming feast. Both the Beaters flirted with her when given the opportunity. But they were a decade older than her and she was rather uninterested.

And her life settled into a routine. They had practice almost daily. The drills all very similar. At first, she felt slow, like she lagged behind the older professional players. Like she wasn't good enough to keep up. But that started to change as the practices continued.

It didn't take long before she felt like she was performing at least at level with Amelia. Although their coach never seemed interested in focusing on her during the drills. Her job seemed to be to drill Amelia and go from there.

She'd make a nice catch, or pull off a great feint and she'd get compliments from her teammates and other coaches. The Chasers in particular seemed to like her style of play, her insistence on being involved, but Parker never praised her.

And then the matches started. The practices slowed when they started to play. Which was welcome. But Sylvie found herself annoyed at watching the matches from the ground with the other reservists.

And grew even more annoyed every time Amelia didn't catch the snitch. She tried to hide her frustrations but she'd still find herself yelling whenever she saw it, knowing full well that Chambers couldn't hear her. And her yelling annoyed both Dorian and Parker, who often told her to stuff it.

Chambers caught the snitch about half the time and Wigtown stayed around the middle of the league in that time. At first the matches were a lot like the practices. Everything seemed too fast for her to follow. And at the beginning she was glad she wasn't the one up there playing. But she also knew that the best way to learn would be to be thrown into the fire. And she wasn't getting that chance.

She complained about it. A lot. To anyone that would listen. Mostly that list entailed her father, mother and agent. And they had varying degrees of the same response to her. She had to put her head down and do the work. And, at some point, she'd be rewarded for it.

But as the days and the matches droned on, she saw no light at the end of the tunnel. She thought she fit in well with the team. She could go out with any of them, even Chambers, and have a good time. The people in Wigtown seemed to like her.

Her agent tried to plead her case to the team management but that just ended with both of them being told Wigtown didn't believe in letting rookies start. They were far too raw and far too slow out of school. Parker lectured her on being vocal about her position and assured her that it would not help her start.

She went her entire first year in the league without appearing in a single match. It disappointed her greatly. Quite a few of her Hogwarts friends had expected tickets to her first match, as did her parents and other friends. But she hadn't been able to tell them when that would be.

She'd hoped that as the team's record worsened toward the end of the year that they might try anything to string together a few wins. But nothing changed. She listened to the press conferences where both Parker and Dorian were asked about the make up of the team. And if they thought this was going to lead to success.

Of course they did, they'd respond. Or else they'd have tried something else by now. They knew they had a solid core of players that would play well the more experience they gained playing together. So, they were going to continue to field that solid core.

When the reporters asked about Potter, they were dismissed. She wasn't ready, James Parker was adamant. And he'd been a Seeker in the league for two decades. He knew who was better and who deserved to start more.

Sylvie didn't know how to interpret that. She knew he had experience and everything he taught them seemed to be bettering her. But she didn't understand why he thought Chambers was such a better option.

Almost every drill they did, Sylvie did better. She'd catch more balls in less time. She'd feint better. She meshed better with the Chasers. She could anticipate them better, and knew here to be to help, and when to stay out of the way.

And she won more often than not any time she and Chambers went head-to-head. Which just furthered her confusion. She could tell the older woman was growing frustrated with it too. But every match she was still announced as the starter. And every match Sylvie watched from the ground as they started to lose more often than not.

It was enough to make Sylvie wonder if they'd even signed her with any intention of having her play Quidditch, or if it was all just a publicity stunt. She remembered her father thinking the same thing about Ballycastle. But by a few months in he'd worked his way to starting. She wondered if she'd ever even have the chance.

Still, she wrapped up her first year as a Wigtown Wanderer without much fanfare. She'd watched her father celebrate end of seasons with grand victories and grand parties, but when it ended for her, it was just a few minutes cleaning out her locker of anything unessential and then heading home.

She spent the off season in Wigtown. She wanted to become a local. She remembered how beloved her father was in Ballycastle while he was still playing and wanted to have that atmosphere about her as well. It worked, too. People were excited to see her out and about. And she even made friends with quite a few of the locals.

Once or twice, one or two of them even made it back to her apartment. But she wasn't looking for a relationship that wasn't Quidditch, so nothing ever lasted past a few dates. And even then, only when she was pretty desperate for amusement.

After a couple weeks of doing nearly nothing the offseason suddenly became shockingly busy. She agreed to be the face of an Athleisure campaign for Gladrags. And she found herself spending quite a few days in photo shoots, press events, and a few associated parties with it.

It didn't take her long to realize why her father didn't like to do events of that nature. She couldn't see him dealing with being the center of attention like that, of having people watch him change, of having outfits picked out for him, of being the guest of honor at every event.

Sylvie loved it though. And she found herself with a whole new wardrobe. Even if most of it wasn't quite the style or quality she was used to. But there was still time to spend her entire paycheck in Paris, so she had that to look forward to.

She also thought it was fairly odd how little Athleisure ware she wore during the photo shoots. But she got to look pretty on magazine covers and in promo materials and she rather enjoyed it.

After she finished with everything required for that one, she volunteered at a youth Quidditch camp that was looking for help. She'd heard horror stories of those. But her dad had done a few of them and she figured if he could tolerate it she could tolerate it.

And really, it wasn't a bad time. There were about twenty Quidditch players that showed up at various times during the month-long camp. Only five or six showed up consistently daily. Sylvie herself probably showed up to just over half of the days.

Really, the players didn't have to do much work at the events. She mostly had to occasionally fly around or do a feint, or help out with a drill. But there were youth coordinators who did most of the world while the professional stepped in here and there for a moment or two. And she loved it, because the kids seemed to adore her. By the third day most of the girls in attendance started to braid their hair the same way she had.

On the days she didn't attend the camp she went to the Wigtown stadium and ran through drills and workouts there. But those workouts were often very limited. She wanted to keep in shape for the coming season. She wanted to make sure she continued to be consistently better than Chambers.

But, even though it was less work, she thought she gained more from the children's camps. There she was at least flying around with other players, showing off for other players, and exchanging tips and tricks with other players.

They quickly fell into groups at the camp, she spent most of her time with Rebecca Everly, a pretty red-headed chaser who played for Montrose and, annoyingly, Quintus Button. He showed up shortly after she did. They'd avoided each other for the first few days but settled into a routine after that. The three of them made quite the trio and the kids adored it.

She was sad when the camp ended. Although she knew it singled that the start of the season was drawing nearer.

The group of players that showed up for the last day all went out to a party after. It was quite the lively affair. Sylvie danced and drank with almost everyone there, enjoying herself tremendously as the evening faded away.

Even Sylvie needed a break every now and then, though. She threw herself into a booth and had the perky waitress bring her a bottle of a surprisingly good Sauternes. Moments later Quintus and Rebecca slid into the booth across from her; they'd just finished dancing with each other.

"This is fun," Quintus said jovially. Sylvie peered at him, then at Rebecca.

"Does Clara know you're dancing with strange women?" Sylvie teased.

"Who you calling strange, Frenchie?" Rebecca retorted.

"Clara and I broke up….God almost a year ago," Quintus said, looking at Sylvie with raised brows. "Where have you been, V?"

"Wigtown," Sylvie responded.

"That's right," Quintus responded. "Warming the bench."

"Well someone has to," Sylvie scoffed.

"Which is weird. I've watched you fly for a month now. You're way better on a broom than Chambers ever dreamed of being," Rebecca said. She then helped herself to the wine when it showed up. Quintus did the same and told the waitress to bring a couple more bottles.

"They say they didn't think any rookie was ready to start," Sylvie said. "Hopefully they see that this year."

"I don't know," Quintus shrugged. "I'm okay with her riding the pine."

"You'd probably prefer her to ride something else," Rebecca said.

"Haha," Quintus responded dryly.

"Probably have her half-naked Gladrags spreads all over your locker," Rebecca continued.

"I don't think I was half naked in any of them," Sylvie shrugged. "Skin tight clothing sure. But clothed."

"I peered at them," Quintus admitted after a sip of wine.

"Me too," Rebecca teased. "But why don't you want Sylvie to start?"

"Sylvie made a promise to me at Hogwarts that she wouldn't ever let me beat her. As long as were on competing teams. So far she's made good on that promise. I'm not going to will her into the starting lineup of a rival," Quintus said.

"I thought I said that was only while we were at school," Sylvie said.

"I'm not taking that chance," Quintus responded.

"Just what did you do to earn such vitriol. Here I thought you looked harmless," Rebecca countered.

"I tried to knock her completely out of a match to prevent a go-ahead goal during our time at Hogwarts," Quintus said.

"He admits it," Sylvie teased as she sipped her wine. "He concussed me pretty bad then had the gall to tell me I might be too soft for Quidditch."

"He's lucky you didn't hex him," Rebecca teased. She finished her wine in one giant gulp and then pulled Sylvie up and dragged her to the dance floor. A few songs later they were back at the booth with fresh bottles of wine. Sylvie kept drinking, finding herself glad she had no plans for the next morning.

After another bottle she grew bored of Quintus and Rebecca reliving Hogwarts memories and slipped back to the dance floor. Five or six songs later she found herself dancing with Quintus. And then Rebecca. And then Quintus. And then more wine. Until finally, she couldn't really remember just where she was, or who she was with.

Sylvie woke up between Quintus and Rebecca in someone's home. One of her hands was still between the Chaser's legs while the other was wrapped around her. She could feel Quintus pressing into her back, his arms around the both of them.

Her mouth was dry and her head was killing her. It took her a few minutes to manage to disentangle herself from the other two Quidditch players.

She was, perhaps unsurprisingly, naked. As were the two players still in bed. She was sore, and her legs wobbled as she moved across the room, looking for her clothing. She found most of it in the hallway that led to the bedroom.

When she peered back into the bedroom, she saw the two of them had started spooning in their sleep. She bit her lip, her mind jumbled with what exactly happened the night before. Part of her simply wanted to find a nice glass of cold water, drink it all, and then crawl back into bed.

But they looked cozy. Like this wasn't the first time for them. Although she wasn't sure if that was the case or not. And another part of her told her to just go home. That things would be awkward in the morning. And that it was best to just leave it as whatever it was.

A third part of her told her that she should also stop drinking dessert wine whenever Quintus was around.

Team activities resumed shortly after. And it felt good to be on the pitch with her teammates again. They'd swapped Chasers in the transfer window but otherwise brought back the same team.

Sylvie continued to outperform Chambers in drills, but when matches started up, Chambers continued to get the starting nod. She debated complaining about it, but given how poorly that worked out for her the last time.

So she just kept doing everything she could, working as hard as she could, and doing everything to prove herself to the team and the coaching staff. But it didn't matter. Again, for the second straight season, she'd come in to the locker room every day before a match and see Chambers penciled on the starting seven.

Every day it seemed to hurt a little bit more as she felt like her efforts weren't paying off. She started to drink more. And go out more. Because she kept making it to the stadium on time and continued to excel in practice.

The only saving grace was the French National Team contacting her during that time. Someone at Wigtown told them they should take a look. They were skeptical, given that Chambers wasn't exactly a world beater when it came to Seeking, but it was reliable information, they said. And they invited her to come out to fly during the winter break.

It was a little odd of a thought. She Floo'd her father to ask him about it and he and her mother had popped over to her apartment and taken her out in Wigtown to discuss it. She wanted to follow him into English Quidditch. He told her that if she wanted to pursue that it could be an opportunity in her future. But she was given a great chance to showcase herself now.

It was one thing to follow in her father's footsteps, her mother added, but National Teams were different. She would never hold it against her daughter to turn down the French. But, and her mother decided to be amazingly embarrassing, she'd been conceived in Paris, born in Bordeaux, raised in Bordeaux, and it was only her wanting to be her father that prevented her from embracing it. And sure, she had dual citizenship, but when she thought about it, what did she identify as?

It wasn't that hard of a question to answer. She'd been jokingly called 'The Frenchie' for years amongst friends. She was pretty sure her profile in the Wigtown Wanderer's media guide called her French.

But she worried her father wouldn't like it. And he'd laughed at her. How could he not like watching his daughter compete in the World Cup? He didn't care what uniform she wore. It was reassuring and comforting.

She spent the rest of the night trying to get her father to give her advice on getting James Parker to convince her that she was a better seeker than Amelia Chambers. Her father wasn't as helpful as she'd hoped. And she could have sworn both of her parents flinched whenever she mentioned her seeker coach's name.

They split up after dinner. Sylvie debated going out but instead went home. She found herself rather bored. She peered through the paper and found an annoying article about Quintus and Rebecca and their budding relationship. But she only read half of it before deciding to go to bed early. Something about talking to her father made her want to refocus on Quidditch.

Three hours later, when she was unable to sleep, she figured a bottle of wine wasn't too inappropriate. Although it did make the morning come considerably sooner.

Everything changed after a match against Holyhead. They'd lost. By a lot. A number that Sylvie wasn't sure they could have scored in three games. The team had been rather miserable about it. As had the hometown fans. There was quite a lot of booing and Sylvie was pretty sure they deserved it.

She lingered for a bit in the locker room, not wanting to be one of the first to leave the stadium. But there was also a sense that something was going to happen. But nothing did. Dorian spent the evening in his office. Eventually, the Chasers left, inviting her to head out for a drink and some snacks after the match.

She joined them. But about the time she got to the restaurant she remembered she'd left her purse in her locker. She knew that her teammates would cover for her, or that the locals wouldn't mind if she paid the next day. But it bothered her so before they started ordering food she decided to head back to the stadium and grab it.

She got there just as two people emerged from the stadium. Sylvie watched them walk out of stadium and down the road. James Parker had his arm around Amelia Chambers. They were huddled close and she was giggling. Which seemed a little odd, given they were just slaughtered partly in part because of her poor play. Although it wasn't fair to blame that deficit entirely on the Seeker.

Still, that annoyed her. But not quite as much as when James Parker leaned over and kissed her as they walked. The most surprising thing was that Amelia didn't instantly start vomiting into the street. Sylvie blinked from behind them.

And then fury filled her. She fought the urge to hex both of them. She was riding the bench because of that? Because her coach was too busy thinking with his dick? And for that? That? Well sure, Amelia was fine in a plain sort of way. But he hadn't even tried to flirt with her! And she was a damn sight better looking than the other Seeker. If he was going to abuse his…

Sylvie paused as she realized just how absurd that thought was growing. But her thoughts shifted to something else. Did the rest of the team know? Did the manager know? Was her entire position just a joke to everyone but her? Did it matter what she did?

She stormed into the locker room to grab her bag, thoughts shifting to if it would be too obvious if she asked her father for hexes to use on two people in an illicit affair. Or if she should just go straight to the media.

She frowned at that as she stepped back out into the cool evening air. She knew she couldn't go to the media. Unless she had proof. But she wasn't going to snoop around their love life for photos. Perhaps she could hire someone….

But without proof, the headlines would just be about how a whiny reservist was trying to stir drama to improve her position. And it would only be worse given that her last name was Potter. She wondered who she should tell. Maybe her agent? Maybe nobody. Did it matter? She didn't know.

But she spent the evening furious about it. Even being around her teammates, as she returned to the restaurant, irritated her more than it should. She wanted to ask, she wanted to blurt it out. She wondered if that made her the petulant twenty-year-old who wasn't getting what she wanted and was looking for an excuse to burn everything down.

After all, maybe there wasn't anything nefarious going on. Maybe Amelia liked Parker. He wasn't that much older than her father. And he was still handsome in a refined older way. Sure, not as good looking as her father.

Ew, Sylvie, Gross.

But it wasn't wholly impossible that someone could find him attractive. Even if it wasn't something that she would ever consider.

Either way it affected her play. She was worse in drills in the coming days. And in team activities. After a few days she felt an odd sense of futility in playing Quidditch. And she hated it.

Her tryout with the French went poorly. But the national coach, Melanie Durand, seemed to pick up on something being wrong. But when she pressed Sylvie on it, the young Seeker didn't divulge anything. Durand told her they'd be in touch if they were interested.

They weren't in touch.

But then her dream came true in February. Ironically enough in Appleby.

Amelia Chambers was slated to start, as usual. Sylvie changed into her road uniform and sat in her locker, frowning at the thought of her team losing, to Quintus's. Not that they'd beaten him in her time there yet. But she hadn't played in those matches.

Twenty minutes before the warmup, Isaac Dorian came out from his office and walked over to her.

"You okay Potter?" he asked.

"Fine, why?" she shot back, snippier than she would have liked. She frowned and looked away, resisting the urge to apologize. She could blame the rudeness on the fact that she was French. Ignoring the fact that she hadn't been rude to the manager before.

"Chambers is ill and not responding to the potions. You're in tonight," he said.

"Wait what?" Sylvie asked.

"You can use the Floo in my office to let your family know," he said. "I'd offer it as a way to get here, but I suspect your father will have his own means."

"You're serious?" she asked.

"I'm serious," he responded. He held up the official lineup card and there on it, written in the seventh spot, was '14-Potter' and it looked glorious.

Her parents responded to the Floo call instantly and she could hear her mother yelling in the background that they had to get to Beauxbatons first and get Leo, as he wouldn't want to miss it. Chloe was cheering and her father's face beamed in the fire. They let her go moments later.

Most of the team picked up on the change almost immediately. They congratulated her, clasped her on the back, and wished her luck. Riley Brown told her to keep in communication during the game. To let them know if there was anything they could do to support her out there.

She spent the rest of the time before the match bouncing up and down. They flew out as a team and there was a surprisingly loud cheer from the crowd when Sylvie Potter was announced as the starting seeker for Wigtown.

She flew around the English fans and couldn't help but smile as they cheered for her. The crowd knew what the event meant to her. And many of them had cheered for her father for years.

As the warmups ended Quintus flew over toward her. He tapped her on the shoulder with his beater's bat, as if he was knighting her. A gesture of respect rarely seen between opponents. The crowd cheered more at it and Sylvie blushed, feeling like it wasn't earned.

"My father is wearing a Wigtown Wanderers Potter jersey," Quintus said, looking over the family section.

"Must have lost a bet," Sylvie said, peering over where Quintus was looking. Titus and Sophie Button were there with Harry and Gabrielle Potter. Leo Potter was entertaining Chloe Potter as they pointed up at the players.

"Probably," Quintus said. "Go easy on us?"

"Wouldn't dream of it," Sylvie said. She flew off to join the team for one final huddle before they floated into position to start the match.

As soon as the Quaffle flew she shot straight past Quintus. Mostly out of spite. She heard her old Gryffindor rival laughing as she darted around the pitch. She smiled at the thought of playing competitive Quidditch once more.

But her elation didn't last long. She tried to intercept a Quaffle only to have it shoot by her. She barely avoided two Bludgers as play sped around her. It took her a few moments to take it all in. The game was much faster than she remembered. She was having trouble keeping up.

A small voice in the back of her head whispered that maybe they'd been right. Being able to do random drills at three quarters the speed was one thing. But it was nothing like actually playing.

But the competitive part of her told her that was crap. If Amelia Chambers could play professional Quidditch then she could play competitive Quidditch. She would just have to focus and press.

No, her father's words rang into her head. Don't press. Relax. The match will come to you. Get comfortable and let it. Don't force it. Bad things happen when a Seeker loses control, and pressing is a great way of losing control.

She pulled away from the play, hovering high up above the pitch and watched the action beneath her. She'd watched the Wigtown Wanders play many games in the last year and a half. And this was no different. The game slowed as she removed herself from it. And, in moments, she felt the rhythm of it develop around her.

She heard the crowd change. Which wasn't surprising. The pregame support they'd shown for her, no doubt more out of respect for her father and Titus Button in the stands than any interest in her, quickly turned into a series of chants directed at her.

Sylvie only caught bits and pieces of them. They were certainly in the early stages. There was a lot of sing-song about how she wasn't her father, smelled of onions, liked frog's legs and didn't shave. Only the first was true, but that wasn't about to stop it.

She played up to it though. She intercepted a Quaffle and relayed it to King for a quick goal. She smiled as she ringed around the stadium, acting like their taunts were adorating, blowing a kiss to one particularly vile looking Appleby Arrow fan.

But the assist made her feel like she was in the match again. It slowed down around her and she felt more at home as she weaved in and out through her teammates. She surprised a few of them. Mostly because Chambers usually kept herself out of the play. But Sylvie wanted no part of that. With her help the Chasers were having a more effective game than they normally would. And the style of play did put Appleby enough on their back foot that they took an early time out when Wigtown took a fifty point lead.

The crowd had started in on the song from Moulin Rouge, indicating just what they wanted to do to Sylvie during the stoppage. She swung by the ringleader of it in the stands, a fat, bearded man dressed as an arrow, and appraised him with the best glare her father had taught her.

Her look was enough to get most of the section to stop singing. She looked him up and down and then shrugged and said maybe if he managed to lose a hundred pounds and twenty years she'd think about it. But still, probably not. She was scheduled to do a lingerie shoot for Gladrags though, so he and his hand could try to mimic her as best they could. She heard laughter from the stands and the taunts shifted away from the sexual nature for the remainder of the match.

Appleby crawled back into it the match after the stoppage. Sylvie did what she could, but the simple fact of it was that their chasers were better than Wigtown's. At the ninety-minute mark Appleby led by fifty.

Sylvie had completely tuned out the taunts by then. And she was flying more as an auxiliary Chaser than a Seeker to keep the score close. But the match still settled into a pretty consistent back and forth.

Appleby's Seeker joined in the fray as well, alternating between helping his Chasers and flying away to look for the snitch. Sylvie kept one eye on him at all times as she sped back and forth up and down the pitch.

Appleby scored two quick goals and a rather flustered Ward relayed the Quaffle in to her as she sped by looking for the Snitch. It was a mistake, she thought, he must have mistaken her for King.

Still, Sylvie adapted and continued up the pitch with the Quaffle as the Appleby Chasers slid into a defensive formation against the oncoming rush. Sylvie faked a pass to Robinson, drawing one of the Chasers off guard. She slipped through the gap it made and found herself with a near breakaway toward the hoops.

All she had to do was get around the Appleby Seeker as he slid back into a final defensive line. She shifted her weight to the right and got ready to fake again, catching King speeding up the left side as well.

But then she saw a glint of gold just behind the Appleby Seeker. She tried to cover the surprise from her face as she flew right at the Appleby Seeker. He tensed to defend against her and a thought quickly came to her.

She pulled her arm back and threw the Quaffle straight at her opposite. The man blinked in surprise as he caught it. There was some laughter at the crowd at what they could only assume was a mental lapse or a terrible attempt at a shot. The opposing Seeker shot past her quickly and her chasers spun around to attempt to form a defense.

But it left her ten feet from the easiest snitch catch she'd ever had. She engulfed the golden ball seconds after the turnover. Spinning around and holding it high in the air before the Appleby chasers even made it into the Wigtown zone. She heard the official end the match as she flew over to get the catch confirmed.

Out of the corner of her eyes she saw the scoreboard go final, Appleby 320, Wigtown 440. She pumped her fist in the air as her team swarmed her. They celebrated in midair in the middle of the pitch. After a few minutes, when decorum told them it would be proper to take the celebration for a nearly meaningless win off of their opponents' pitch, she flew from the throng of her teammates and over toward her parents.

When she got close she tossed the snitch to her father. He caught it with the practice one would suspect from one of the greatest Seekers the league had ever seen but shook his head at her.

"Keep this one, it's yours," Harry said, offering it back to her.

"You guys got me here," Sylvie said. "You should have it."

"It would look better on your mantle," Harry said.

"But it can rest on ours for now," Gabrielle responded, putting a hand on her husband's shoulder as he opened his mouth to argue.

"Congrats V," Quintus said as he flew up next to them.

"Thanks, Q," she said, feeling her cheeks flush for reasons she wasn't entirely positive of. He exchanged a few words with his family and ruffled Chloe's hair before flying off toward the Appleby locker room.

"Can we take you out to celebrate?" Gabrielle asked.

"Sure," Sylvie responded. "Most of the team was just going to return to Wigtown tonight. And I don't see you guys enough. Can I clean up and meet you out front?"

"Of course," Harry said. Sylvie figured he would know exactly how long it would take for a professional to be presentable after a match. "You flew beautifully."

"Thanks," Sylvie blushed more. They talked for a couple of minutes. Chloe took the snitch from her father and started to play with it. But after a moment when she started to pull on the wings he took it back from her and tucked it into his pocket. Eventually, though, Sylvie flew away and down to the locker room.

Most of the team was still there. The Beater twins were getting ready to floo home but waited to congratulate her once more on her first professional snitch catch and win. The rest of the team congratulated her in turn. Brown wanted to celebrate but Sylvie told them of her plans with her family and he decided to postpone it.

She stripped down to her sports bra and the shorts she wore under her uniform and organized her locker so the elves could pack it up and return it to Wigtown. She left her change of clothing and wand out of it, so the elves wouldn't take that with them and moved toward the woman's showers. She passed King on her way in and the Chaser congratulated her on a well-played game.

Sylvie took one last look at the locker room revealed that there were only a couple of straggling players and coaches still left. Most obviously deeming that they were ready to be in their own beds.

She turned the water on hot and let it steam up the shower for a few moments before stripping and stepping into the water. The team elves kept the visiting hygienic facilities stocked with an assortment of the players' favorite products. Sylvie grabbed her body wash from a shelf and lathered up. She took her sweet time washing, knowing she was keeping her parents waiting. But it had been a cold match and the water was doing an amazing job warming her body. She washed the suds off and worked on her hair after. When she was rinsing it out she heard the door open.

That gave her pause, but wasn't overly shocking. Although there were only four females on Wigtown's roster, and only one female coach that might think of using the showers. And she knew King already showered and hadn't seen Chambers at all that day. She finished washing her hair and turned, expecting to see the reservist Beater, Angela Harkins.

She did not expect to see the Seeker coach, James Parker, standing in the doorway. She immediately covered herself with her hands. While she'd changed in the locker room before and she was sure the man had seen her in various states of undress, alarm bells still went off in her head.

"Get out!" she shrilled.

"Oh please, Potter," Parker laughed.

"Get out!" she said again, trying to make her tone sound more forceful but instead it seemed to sound weaker.

"You flew well today," he said, stepping toward her. He pulled off his team polo and stretched his arms as if he was trying to show off. Bile started to rise in Sylvie's throat.

"Well let's talk about that at practice on Monday," Sylvie said, looking away from him.

"Oh, we will. I don't want to talk about it now anyway. I think we have better things to discuss," Parker said.

"Please just go away," she said.

"I know you want to start more," Parker said.

"I'm not going to have sex with you to start Quidditch games," Sylvie said. She tried to wandlessly summon her wand but she had never been as good at that as her father. And she didn't want to move her hands from her body. "I'm not Chambers."

"We'll see," Parker said, stepping closer to her as he undid his belt.

"Seriously, just stop. Please just stop," Sylvie said. Tears were welling in her eyes but she didn't want to show the weakness of crying.

"Oh please. Everyone knows you like the attention," Parker said.

"I'll scream," Sylvie countered.

"No one is left to hear it," Parker said.

"I'll talk. I'll tell everyone about this. About you and Chambers," Sylvie said.

"No, you won't," Parker said as he slipped out of his remaining clothing and looked at her.

"Yes I will. And it will ruin your career!" Sylvie said.

"Who are they going to believe, Sylvie? The man with an impeccable Quidditch record or the little brat of a Seeker who will look for any excuse as to why she isn't starting. After all, it couldn't be that she just isn't good enough," Parker laughed.

"I…" Sylvie frowned, doing everything in her power to not look at him as she tried again to summon her wand to defend herself. He was still in good shape, she had to admit. She wasn't sure if she could take him physically if he got closer to her. She tried to look around for anything she could use as a weapon. But her only options were body wash and shampoo bottles.

"Exactly. And everyone knows you already have a reputation. Dancing and kissing boys and girls in public? Those photo shoots you're so willing to do? Hell, there's photos of you at some party while you were still in school. You ask for it, Sylvie. They'll turn on you so fast," Parker laughed.

"No they wouldn't…My father," Sylvie started.

"Oh I could tell you stories about your father. I doubt he'd like it to make into the papers that he assaulted me and almost ended my career," Parker laughed.

"No, he didn't," Sylvie said as the man moved even closer to her.

"He did. He found me and his girlfriend in bed. The little pixie liked me far more than him. And he reacted poorly. I could have destroyed him for that. I chose to be the better man," Parker said.

"Sleeping with someone else's girlfriend doesn't make you the better man," Sylvie said.

"She told me they weren't an item. We've never had someone lie to us about that, now have we, Sylvie?" Parker said.

"I…How?" Sylvie sputtered.

"Teams do their due diligence. There's often truth in rumors," Parker smirked at her. "Now come on. You may even enjoy it."

"No. Just go," she said.

"We both know it's going to happen," Parker said.

"No," Sylvie shouted. But she saw no chance to get out of it past winning a fight. She shifted her hands from herself and clenched them into fists. If he was going to force himself on her she would at least fight back, even if it just made it worse.

"Come now, Sylvie. There's no reason for that," Parker said.

"No!" she yelled again, desperation slipping into her voice. "Go away! Please just go away!" He stepped toward her and then he slipped. His leg seemed to lock up mid step and he fell hard to the ground, landing with a thud in the water. Sylvie blinked at him. If it hadn't been so absurd she would have laughed. But then she looked up and saw another man standing in the doorway.

Quintus Button had his wand out. He lowered his hand and looked at her as she covered herself again.

"Get out!" she squealed again.

"I've seen it before, Sylvie," Quintus said calmly. But he didn't look directly at her. He grabbed two towels from near the door and walked over to her. A flick of his wand turned off the shower and he pocketed it before unwrapping one of the towels and wrapping it around her. She froze as he did. And then, after a moment, threw herself against him as the tears flowed.

She felt Quintus lead her out of the showers and back to her locker. He kept his arms around her for a few minutes as she cried. But Sylvie didn't want to be a damsel in distress for any longer than she had to be. She willed away the tears and slipped away from Quintus. She found her wand and dried herself and then scrubbed off her face with the towel before gesturing for him to turn around.

Quintus obeyed, his gaze settling on the door to the showers as Sylvie changed. After a moment Quintus spoke.

"Are you okay, V?" he asked.

"I'm fine," Sylvie said.

"I really don't think that…" Quintus started.

"That what?" Sylvie spat.

"Well if what I think I saw," Quintus started. "I mean. I…Sylvie was he going to."

"I don't know. Probably," Sylvie said. "But he won't now."

"We should get someone," Quintus said. "The authorities."

"No, we shouldn't," Sylvie said. She was still shaking slightly, but she didn't want Quintus to notice. She finished dressing and gathered up her remaining belongings.

"Sylvie he tried to," Quintus started, staring at her in disbelief.

"I know what he tried to do, Quintus. I was there," she spat.

"He can't get off with a stunning spell and some slight embarrassment," Quintus retorted. "I'm going to tell someone."

"No, you're not," Sylvie said.

"Why the hell not?" Quintus yelled. Sylvie flinched away from him and he took a deep breath. "Sorry."

"Because if I say anything he'll talk about something that happened between him and my father that won't be good for my dad," Sylvie said.

"Blackmail doesn't make it better," Quintus frowned. "You should tell your father immediately."

"No chance," Sylvie said.

"But Sylvie," Quintus said.

"Enough. I'm not telling him. I don't want him to know. It's fine. Nothing happened. Thanks to you probably. But nothing happened. I'll deal with it," Sylvie said.

"I don't like this," Quintus said.

"You don't have to," Sylvie responded. "I need to go meet my parents."

"I'll go with," Quintus said.

"I can walk out of a stadium myself," Sylvie said. She didn't want him to be around her any longer than he already was. Something felt off about the entire thing. For now, thoughts of James Parker's body coming toward her in the showers were fading from her mind. Something else was replacing it.

Thoughts of embarrassment at Quintus seeing her in that situation filled her mind. How would he ever look at her the same again? Would he think she did something like that normally? Would he think it wasn't the first time? Would he think less of her?

"We're going in the same direction," Quintus said.

"Fine," Sylvie responded as she left the locker room. She didn't say anything to him as they left. And he maintained the silence. When she stepped outside Chloe and Leo both charged her. She hugged them each, giggling with them as they wanted to recap the entire match. Her father eyed her, he was holding the golden snitch in a small glass display case.

Her heart wasn't in it but she obliged them with as big of a fake smile as she could muster. Her thoughts shifting from the game constantly. Chloe had to snap her back to attention a few times as they made their way to the restaurant.

Her parents asked her what was wrong. It was easy to pass it off that she was just tired. That the adrenaline from the match was wearing off. She gave them a fake smile. She thought they had to be able to see straight through it. But they didn't press her as Chloe kept distracting her about the match.

Her father handed her the snitch when they left. She didn't want to take it, she begged them to keep it. But he insisted it was something she should have. She took it and half debated tossing it into a rubbish bin as she walked to a public Floo back to Wigtown when they were done. Then walked the final few blocks to her flat, feeling oddly skittish about everyone else on the street at night. She hoped no one recognized her, or thought it odd that she kept her distance from any group.

Sylvie tossed the snitch in the case randomly toward her living room when she got home and proceeded straight to bed when she got home, curling into her blankets and doing her best to forget the shower. It didn't work. Tears came shortly after her head hit the pillow and they didn't stop until she exhausted herself.

She didn't understand it. It should have been one of the best nights of her life. It should have been a night she fondly remembered. But instead any time she thought of it, every thought immediately went back to James Parker's naked form moving toward her. And the suffocating feeling of being trapped. She wanted to hex him, to end him, to do anything to get her mind off of him. But instead she slept. Where she dreamed about him.

She woke far earlier than she would have expected, her body caked with sweat and her room feeling insufferably warm as she kicked the blankets off her. Her clock showed it was barely past five, but her nightmares stirred her away and her body felt disgusting. She had a momentary thought of perhaps keeping it that way. But the urge to be clean, to be rid of it all, overtook her.

The cold shower didn't do much to make her feel better. But something felt off about taking a hot shower. So she'd stood in the cold water until she shivered and rubbed her skin raw with lemon-scented soap.

When she finished she found herself incredibly uninterested in dressing and facing the day. So she threw on some pajamas and curled up on the couch for what she assumed was the morning.

By the time she realized she was hungry the sun had already set. She found some carrots and returned to the couch to eat them. At some point she fell asleep again. Although she wasn't quite sure if she was ever was fully awake.

It was well past ten in the morning when she became coherent again. Which was a problem as practice started at nine. She didn't go. She couldn't bring herself to look at coach Parker. And she didn't respond when her Floo alerted her to a call. She ignored it and moved to another room. Around noon a team official came looking for her. She claimed she was sick.

Which was a problem as an hour later a team doctor came calling. Sylvie insisted she was fine now. Which earned her a glare but she submitted to a series of diagnostics, ranging from the flu to a pregnancy check before the doctor left. She frowned, knowing full well that she'd be in for a lecture from Dorian the next day. If she even went to practice.

But by the next morning she knew that, well, for one she should leave her flat before she went insane. For two, she knew that if she didn't go, people would start to grow concerned and ask questions. And, for three, her father would be disappointed in her.

So, she went. Chambers was nowhere to be seen, again. Brown, Ward, and Robinson ribbed her about being too hung over to fly, asking how fun her multi-day bender was. She dismissed them, saying she was sick. They didn't believe her. Brown reached to ruffle her hair, but seemed to think better of it as she glared at him.

She didn't see Parker until she went out to the pitch. He joined them a few minutes later and started to drill her. She stayed as far away from him as she could while doing the drills and often floated over to the Chaser coach and tried to see if she could help out with their drills, often while Parker was still barking at her.

After the practice she sat in her locker, drinking from a water bottle as the team chatted around her. She wanted to shower, but a part of her knew she would never do that at the team facilities again.

Dorian came and sat next to her.

"Where's Chambers?" she asked.

"She's out for a few days," Dorian said. "But, how are you?"

"I'm fine," Sylvie said.

"Miss Potter," Dorian started.

"What?" Sylvie asked. She looked around the locker room and saw Parker was about fifteen feet away from her, talking with the keepers. But his eyes were watching her as she spoke with the manager.

"I trust there will be nothing more like yesterday?" Dorian said after a few seconds of silence.

"Shouldn't be," Sylvie said, but it was hard to get certainty into her voice. Her glance shifted to Parker and then back to the manager. Dorian looked at the Seeker coach as well, then back to Sylvie.

"And there's nothing you want to tell me?" he asked.

"Nothing," Sylvie affirmed.

"If that changes, Potter, or if there's anything we can do, let me know," Dorian said.

"Okay," Sylvie said as the manager walked away. He called Parker into his office with him and Sylvie took that as her cue to leave the stadium.

The next day brought another match. She arrived around the same time as Riley Brown. The team captain talked with her as they walked toward the locker room. She thought some of the questions felt a bit more probing than they should have. But she answered them as best they could.

A few of the Magpies were loitering underground as well, Rebecca Everly waved and smirked at her as she and Brown walked past.

Dorian was waiting for them. He told Sylvie that Chambers was out again and that she would again start that night. Sylvie nodded, feeling oddly empty at his words, and dressed for the warmup.

Parker came to run through scouting reports with her after the warmup, but she ignored him as she focused on looking over her broom. It was in pristine condition, as it should be as they had a full staff dedicated to broom maintenance, but she was still particular about it. Something she'd inherited from her father, no doubt.

The match against Montrose was far less eventful than her previous one against Appleby. She caught the snitch. But they'd still lost by fifty. No one really said much to her after. Players tended to avoid the seeker when they lost despite getting the catch. It made the chasers feel inferior, she'd learned. A losing snitch catch was often a sign of desperation to purely end the match.

She left with Ward and Robinson, mostly to be in a group of players rather than alone. They chatted about the match as they walked. Sylvie didn't see much of a purpose in chiming in.

By their next match the following week Chambers returned. Parker vied for her to start over Sylvie and got his way. And they'd won, with Chambers flying better than she had in quite some time.

So, her season continued with the same boring monotony. She found herself irritable whenever Parker and Chambers were around. She avoided them at all costs, but it seeped into her day to day too. Most of her friends constantly told her she was too dour, and then stopped hanging out her all together when given the opportunity.

Her Gladrags photo shoots went poorly. The summer wear she thought was fine. Mostly it was just trying to pose alluringly on a broom while hovering two feet off the ground. But the brief lingerie shoot ended when she photographer told her to smile at least look like she wanted to fuck someone. She stormed out shortly after.

Her agent made her redo it. It was too good of an endorsement to screw with. So, two weeks later, she begrudgingly went back. She noticed the clothing selections that time were moderately more tasteful and there was a different photographer.

But the team strung together a few wins in a row after Chambers returned to starting and, by the end of it, the brief talk of Potter usurping Chambers fell by the wayside. She only appeared in two other matches that season. And one of which was as a Chaser after a collision and a Bludger knocked out three of them in one match. She did manage to score two goals in that time, too.

And she started the final match of the season at Seeker. They won on her snitch catch, but the match was pointless, as they were firmly rooted in eighth in the league by that point. It felt nice to win, though. Part of her wondered if her three snitch catches in three games would lead to interest in her during the summer transfer window.

She never found out if it did. Shortly after the start of the offseason, Parker answered questions about her and Chambers. He didn't come out and say she was lazy. But he praised Chambers's work ethic far more than seemed strictly necessary.

Reporters cornered her one night in Bordeaux, shortly after dinner with her family, and questioned her about it in a rapid French. She debated commenting on just what Chambers worked so hard at that amused Parker. But, before she could talk, her father glared at the reporters and they quickly remembered than an annoyed Harry Potter wasn't worth trifling with and vanished.

Her one thing to look forward to was when Melanie Durand invited her to another tryout with the French. This one went better, but they told her they were satisfied with their seeker play. But, Durand said, she was probably their fourth best option at the moment, based on pure ability. Sylvie beamed at the compliment.

She filled the rest of her summer with youth camps. The kids seemed thrilled to see her as usual and she spent quite a bit of time with them. Rebecca Everly came almost as often as she did.

The two of them chatted through most of the drills and went out quite often as well. Eventually, Sylvie asked what happened between her and Quintus. Rebecca gave her a strange look and said nothing past a few one-night stands. Quintus had his eye on someone else, she thought. And sure, he was fun, but it was a bit tedious when he obviously was looking elsewhere.

Sylvie took that as a sign to make fun of Quintus. Which drew raised eyebrows from Rebecca, but she followed along. They spent the night with each other a few times during the offseason. But as the season approached they each went their separate ways.

There was some light flirting after the third match of Sylvie's third professional season, where Montrose annihilated Wigtown. But she figured it was probably smart to not be seen out with an opposing chaser after such a loss, so she went home rather than continuing her flirting.

She found her interest in Quidditch waned even more as she was forced around James Parker. He continued to harp on her at every chance he got. And she continued to bite her tongue through it all.

She scraped together a few starts during the course of the season with middling results. Parker was constantly critical of her after them, especially when she didn't catch the snitch or when the team lost.

Deep down she wanted to snap back at him. But instead the anger bubbled over until she got home where she could take it out on her pillow. She cried herself to sleep more often than not. She wondered why she even bothered with it. Quidditch was supposed to be fun. And this was not remotely fun.

But every time she thought that she got to play. And playing was still fun. But it crushed her just as much. Because the matches wound end and she would be left completely at square one.

It was almost a relief when Isaac Dorian called her into his office after their final match and told her they were not going to retain her services for the following season. She packed up her locker and went home.

She'd ended her career in Wigtown with a total of eight starts as seeker. She caught six snitches in five wins. Sure, it was a small sample, but they were solid numbers for the time she played.