Disclaimer: The characters are the property of the amazingly talented J.K Rowling. I'm only borrowing the characters and world that she has so brilliantly created.

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Chapter Eight: Adjustments

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I blinked. And then I blinked again, slower this time. Maybe I was dreaming? (Nightmare, more like.) Maybe Coach Pendergast was taking the mickey?

But no matter how many times I blinked, Elara Rinaldi was still standing in the middle of the locker room and she was still the new assistant coach.

Everyone clapped politely, and I mindlessly followed suit. Given her age, which looked to be in her mid to late twenties, Elara could only be Lyra Rinaldi's older sister. They looked too similar to be anything but sisters.

"It's a pleasure to meet you all," Coach Rinaldi said. "I previously worked with the Ballycastle Bats and before that in the Department of Magical Games and Sports with the Ministry. You should know that I have very high expectations and intend to push you hard. I don't have favorites and I demand the best from everyone," she finished in what had to be the poshest accent I'd ever heard. Lyra was (I would grudgingly admit) well-spoken, but this was beyond even that. Who in in the world even spoke like that anymore?

"Coach Rinaldi will be observing for the next several days to learn how practice runs here at Holyhead, and to adjust to her new role," Coach Pendergast informed us. "Then the fun begins, ladies!"

"Yay," Teagan intoned.

I was a Gryffindor to the core, but I wouldn't have wanted to have been on the receiving end of the piercing gaze Coach Rinaldi leveled at Teagan. For her part, Teagan must have realized that she'd stepped out of line. She swallowed heavily and stared intently at a spot on the floor by her left trainer.

"In future, you should know that so-called 'clever' comments are not appreciated."

"I strongly believe that you will all benefit from Coach Rinaldi's experience and training methods," Coach Pendergast cut in. "I expect you to all be respectful and to make her feel welcome."

Coach Rinaldi nodded at this. "I respect Coach Pendergast and the main team she's put together, so let's see how you all match up. I'll see you on the pitch in five minutes."

~…~…~…~…~…~…~…

"That was a bit odd, wasn't it?" Ellie asked after practice as we hung our kit up in our respective lockers.

Coach Rinaldi had watched the reserves practice like a hawk. Her expression had given no clues to her thoughts or feelings; she had merely prowled around the field with her clipboard taking what looked to be copious amounts of notes.

I nodded wearily. "I felt like we were back at tryouts all over again."

Just then, the locker room door cracked open and the subject of our discussion stuck her well-groomed head in.

"Miss Wood, might I have a word before you leave?" Coach Rinaldi called.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Ellie shoot me a look of confusion. I could feel the eyes of the other reserves on me as well.

"Sure," I said, somewhat hesitantly and followed Coach Rinaldi out of the locker room and into the hallway.

"I'm given to understand that you and my younger sister Lyra are acquainted?"

Well, she had certainly cut to the chase.

"Oh, er, I…" I faltered slightly. "Yeah?"

Acquainted? I mean, I supposed that was one way to put it, but somehow it didn't seem to cover the complicated antagonism that had existed between Rinaldi and myself since practically the moment we'd met.

A knowing smile played on Coach Rinaldi's thin lips. "I thought as much. Aside from the fact that your reputation precedes you, you don't hide your feelings well."

I felt my face color at her words. Oh holy hippogriffs, she'd noticed my reaction when her name was announced as our new assistant coach. As usual, where was a window when I needed to throw myself out of one?

I opened my mouth to say something (though Merlin knows what I planned to say), but thankfully she held up a hand to stop me.

"I don't care one jot about whatever petty rivalry exists between you and my sister. Lyra is a tad prone to dramatics."

If asked, I would have said that Lyra Rinaldi was prone to ruthlessness, but I supposed that dramatics worked just as well.

"I believe it would be best if you were to set aside any preconceptions you might have about me. Whatever you might feel about Lyra, it has no place in a professional environment. I'm your assistant coach now, and you will respect my position of authority."

I noticed that Coach Rinaldi didn't mention that she would ignore any preconceptions she might have about me, but said, "yes," all the same.

"Yes, what?" she asked, her voice even more clipped than usual, if that was even possible.

"Yes, Coach Rinaldi."

"Better." And with that, she turned sharply on her heel and strode away.

Oi.

"What did she want?" Ellie asked coming up behind me. I was surprised to see that she'd waited for me.

I sighed heavily. The enmity between me and Lyra Rinaldi was hardly a secret. "I played against her sister, Lyra at Hogwarts. Lyra and I, we're…not on good terms. At all. I once punched her in the face."

"Oh."

At last, someone else who said "oh" in response to awkward situations!

Ellie cocked her head to the side as she regarded me. "You don't seem like the kind of person who would punch someone in the face."

Well, that was good, I supposed. Despite joking about it on occasion, I didn't want "will punch people in the face" to be part of my reputation.

"I'm usually not," I replied. "She insulted my family and I lost my temper. She has a way of getting under my skin. Like a nasty sliver."

"I remember Lyra," Ellie said, then added slowly, "she's…not the most pleasant person I've ever encountered."

That was a massive understatement if ever there was one.

"That's going to be a bit weird for you, isn't it?" Ellie observed. "To have her sister coaching you."

I nodded ruefully. "That's what I'm afraid of."

"Say," Ellie said, perking up considerably. "I know what might cheer you up. While you were with Coach Rinaldi, the rest of us were talking about going to the Puddlemere open practice. You should absolutely come with us."

Oh, Ellie. The thing she thought would cheer me up was probably the only thing that could make we feel worse.

She seemed to realize by my body language that her idea hadn't been so marvelous after all because she said, "Oh no, I forgot your dad's the coach. And about James. Are you even allowed to attend? Do you want to go? Or would that be too strange?"

It would be too strange, but I didn't want to tell Ellie precisely why that was. I mean, it didn't exactly take much imagination to assume that I might have wanted to play for Puddlemere given my family background, but I still didn't want to tell one of my teammates that I was only here because the Harpies was my best option given the fact that Puddlemere wasn't willing to sign me.

"I, well, that is…" I trailed off, desperately trying to think of how to explain the issue without saying too much. After all, tact and subtly were hardly my strengths.

"Yeah, no, don't worry about," Ellie said, waving away my clear hesitation. "Sorry I asked. It's only that everyone else is going and I didn't want you to feel left out."

"Thanks," I told her. And I meant it. It was nice of her to want to include me.

"Maybe next time," she said, unconsciously echoing my discussion with James.

I forced a small smile. "Yeah, maybe."

~…~…~…~…~…~…~…

"Ugh," I groaned before flopping down face first onto the sofa.

"Bad day?" Christine asked from her place in the chair where she had been curled up reading a blue covered book with the title Practical Museum Acquisition and Accession.

"Horrid," I replied, my voice partially muffled by the couch cushions. Still, Christine seemed to understand.

"Do you want to talk about it?" she asked kindly. I heard her close her book and set it down.

I rolled over so that I was staring at the ceiling. "Lyra Rinaldi's older sister is the new assistant coach for the Harpies."

Christine's mouth dropped open in surprise. "What?!"

I was glad that someone else was having the same reaction as me; that the strangeness of the situation didn't exist solely inside my head.

"Exactly!" I said. "Her name is Elara and she's probably about ten years older than Rinaldi. Er, Lyra, that is."

It seemed so bizarre to think of Lyra Rinaldi as simply Lyra. Somehow, she didn't sound as intimidating when referred to by her first name alone. That is, until she opened her mouth and uttered a cutting remark.

"And if the fact that my arch-nemesis's sister is now coaching at Holyhead wasn't horrible enough," I continued, "she also knows that Lyra and I hate each other."

Christine made a face that was hard to decipher. "Did she tell you that?"

I nodded. "She pulled me aside after practice. I mean, she told me that she didn't care about me and Lyra being rivals, but she wasn't exactly pleasant. Although I'm not sure if that's because of me or because that's the way she is. But I could definitely tell that they're related, and not just because they look a lot alike."

"Maybe she'll actually treat you like any other member of the team. I mean, she is a professional. And there's always the head coach and the trainers, right? If she gets to be a little…much."

Personally, I wasn't as hopeful as Christine. Then again, I'd had many more unpleasant encounters with Lyra Rinaldi than Christine and was probably more likely to distrust anyone associated with her. And then there was the way that Coach Rinaldi had talked about my preconceptions about her.

"There was something that seemed a little, well…off," I said hesitantly. "She said that I needed to put aside my preconceptions about her. The way she said it made it seem like I was the only one with preconceptions. But the fact that she automatically assumed I had preconceptions must mean that she has preconceptions about me. Right? That make sense?"

Christine nodded thoughtfully and said, "Maybe it will turn out all right."

I mean, I wanted that too. I was just doubtful that I was going to get on very well with Elara Rinaldi.

"And then Ellie asked me to attend the Puddlemere open practice. She said the rest of the reserves are going."

"Maybe you should go with them," Christine suggested somewhat hesitantly. "Maybe it would give you some kind of, I dunno…closure, for lack of a better word."

I knew what Christine was saying made sense and maybe someday I would attend an open practice at Puddlemere and it would feel like closure. But not now. Not yet.

"Maybe someday," I said, unconsciously echoing what I'd said to Ellie after practice. "Tell me about what's happening at the Museum of Magical Antiquities," I deflected.

I knew that Christine knew full well that I was steering the conversation away from open practice, but her face lit up at the mention of her job. Although to be fair I legitimately did want to know how my best friend was enjoying her new job and I'd had quite enough of talking about me.

"It's going really well," Christine smiled widely. "My supervisor has made me feel welcome, so that's nice. This week she's been teaching me about the proper ways to accession new acquisitions at the museum and how to oversee the volunteers."

"It sounds like you're learning a lot."

"Oh, I am. And next week she's going to start teaching me about the kinds of storage and display environments needed for different artifacts."

I wasn't sure I precisely understood what Christine was doing at work, but she sounded excited by it and that made me happy.

~…~…~…~…~…~…~…

Dear Eva,

Quidditch tryouts are next week. I think we have some good prospects, but no one as good as you and James, of course. Zara's been a good captain so far, though I think she's being extra hard on us to prove that she can take your place. I mean, that must be daunting, to follow you as captain.

Rumor is that Bree and her French bloke have broken it off. When she showed up to practice yesterday it looked as though she'd been crying. It's hard to feel sorry for her when she threw over one of my best mates for this other bloke. The whole situation has made practice a bit awkward sometimes. Bree and Nico barely speak to each other, and Zara is stuck in the middle.

Not much else to say. Nothing exciting has happened yet. I'll let you know what happens at tryouts.

Richard

(and Gareth)

P.S. I'm working on a new dynamic stretching routine and want you to give it a go over the Christmas holiday. - Gareth

P.P.S. Keep your elbows tucked in!

I set down Richard's letter with a sigh. Not because I'd been reminded to keep my elbows in (what a cheeky prat) but because of the situation between Bree and Nico. Part of me wanted to write to Zara and ask how things were going and ask if there was anything I could do to help. The other part of me knew that Zara would probably want to handle things on her own. I didn't want to push in where I didn't belong anymore.

The situation between Nico and Bree kept floating through my mind all evening until I finally decided on a rough course of action. Retreating to my bedroom, I pulled a piece of parchment towards me and began a letter to Zara.

Dear Zara,

I don't mean to push in, but Richard mentioned in his latest letter that there was a lot of tension between Bree and Nico. I'm here in Wales and I can't handle the thought of my team being negatively affected by this, and it's not even my team anymore, it's yours.

"Bugger, bugger, bugger," I muttered to myself as I crumpled up the parchment and dropped it into the bin next to my desk. Sitting back in my chair I sighed heavily, thinking of what I wanted to convey to Zara. I pulled out a new piece of parchment and started again.

Dear Zara,

Richard mentioned in his latest letter that there was a lot of tension between Bree and Nico. I don't mean to stick my nose in where it doesn't belong, and hopefully they don't let this affect Quidditch, but if you ever need any advice or just want to vent, I'm here.

Best,

Eva

There. That didn't make me sound as though I was trying to control my former team from a distance. I mean, I wasn't. I was just worried. I had put a lot of blood, sweat, and tears into that Gryffindor team and I didn't want things to fall apart for Zara now that she was the captain.

…………………

It was incredibly strange not to be in attendance at Puddlemere's open practice. I woke up that Saturday morning with a thrill of anticipation that burst when I remembered that I wouldn't be there. My Holyhead teammates would be waking up about now and preparing. So would James.

In an effort to take my mind off the open practice, Christine pulled me out the door shortly after breakfast, insisting that we needed to look for a kitchen table for the flat. She was probably right; we'd been sitting on the floor so far and it had somewhat lost its appeal.

Finally, in a small second-hand furniture shop down a cobblestone alley, we found a small round table that came with an extra leaf and a set of four matching chairs. Christine told the shopkeeper that we had a car out back and declined when he offered to help us load it into the car. Once outside the back of the shop, we surreptitiously took out our wands and shrunk the table and chairs down until they fit inside my old Hogwarts rucksack.

All in all, it hadn't been a bad day, especially once we set the table up in the flat and admired how much better the space looked with furniture. Christine unearthed a tablecloth from one of the boxes of household items her mum had packed for us, and we ate a dinner of steak and kidney pie sitting at our new table.

Christine and I had just settled in for a game of Squiggle ("the most magical fun you'll ever have with a quill!") when there was a knock at the door. When I looked through the peep hole, I was surprised to see James standing outside.

"What are you doing here?" I asked him as I opened the door. "I thought you'd be out with the team."

It wasn't uncommon for teammates to gather for parties after matches or open practices, and I had expected James to be out with the rest of the Puddlemere United side.

James shrugged as he stepped inside. "I was. I thought you might like to come too. Lots of the others brought their significant others."

I doubted many of the others' significant others played for opposing Quidditch teams. Besides, I'd met many of the Puddlemere players over the years. Still, I hadn't met James' reserves teammates, and I hadn't gone to support him today…

"We just started a game of Squiggle," I hedged. I needed more time to think about James' offer.

"Oh, go on, Eva," Christine gently encouraged me. "It sounds like fun. And besides, we've only taken a turn each. The game can wait."

I nearly replied that I was passionate about Squiggle and that it most certainly couldn't wait, but then I thought better of it. I didn't need to make up reasons not to attend if I chose not to go. This was James, and I could (and should) be honest with him.

"I mean, you don't have to if you don't want to," James hastily reassured me. "I just thought you might like to meet my teammates and talk Quidditch."

"Am I even allowed?" I asked, trying not to sound as if I was committing either way just yet. "Being on another team and all?"

"Ieuan Rhys brought Niamh Mahoney," James said, referring to the Harpies' main team Seeker. "I dunno if they're dating or just friends or whatever, but if he can bring her I can bring you."

"Everyone will know I wasn't there this morning." I worried. "Won't it be odd to show up now?"

James merely shrugged. "I don't know that everyone knows. And I don't care what anyone else thinks."

I paused, thinking it all through. Despite his words to assure he that he didn't want to pressure me into attending, James was looking at me very hopefully. I'd already turned down watching him play today…And I did want to be supportive of James and his career at Puddlemere…

"Yeah, all right," I replied before I could change my mind and second guess my decision. I was rewarded by James's wide grin. I glanced at his navy-blue robes. "I take it we're not dressing as Muggles?"

"We're at The Unicorn, in London. Apparently, it's a favorite spot of the team."

"What about those cornflower blue robes we bought you the other weekend?" Christine asked, standing up and bustling down the short hallway. "They match your eyes wonderfully. And I have some silver star earrings that would look lovely with them!"

I looked at James and shrugged. "I'll be a ready in a of couple minutes."

That turned out to be a slight exaggeration as Christine insisted that I do something more with my hair than leave it down. Then she insisted on a bit of eyeshadow and lipstick.

It was about fifteen minutes later when I finally emerged from the bathroom.

"Sorry," I apologized for taking longer than intended. James stood up from the chair he'd settled into and turned around to face me.

"Eva, you look…you look fantastic," James told me, hazel eyes slightly wide.

Part of me wanted to jokingly ask if I walked around looking like a right horror the rest of the time, but the less awkward part of my brain prevailed.

"Thanks," I said instead, my face feeling warm at the look of appreciation in James's eyes. "You look rather handsome yourself," I told him truthfully. Navy really was an excellent color on him. Not as nice as Gryffindor red, of course, but attractive all the same.

He quirked an eyebrow. "Amazingly handsome?"

"I'm not going to dignify that with a response."

But yes, he was.

~…~…~…~…~…~…~…

"Abbie," James introduced us, "this is my girlfriend, Eva Wood. Eva, this is Abbie Duncan."

"You're Lorna's sister, right?" I asked, remembering what James had told me about his new teammates.

"Guilty," Abbie grinned. "So, you're the famous Eva Wood?"

I felt my face and neck color. I fiercely hoped that Abbie didn't read Witch Weekly.

"Lorna said you were very promising," she elaborated. "I look forward to playing against you someday."

I smiled, feeling highly flattered. That was high praise, indeed, coming from Lorna. Compliments from her had been few and far between, but sincere when given.

"Lilith!" Abbie waved her hands to flag down someone behind me. "Come meet Eva."

I remembered James telling me that his first impression of Lilith was that she was high-strung. He had failed to mention that she was stunningly beautiful. She had long, curly deep red hair and was wearing exquisite robes of that matched her deep blue eyes.

"Lilith Edmonds," she told me, holding out a hand to shake. "Nice to meet you. James talks about you rather a lot."

"It's nice to meet you too," I replied, hoping that was true.

"I didn't see you at open practice today, did I?" Lilith asked, curiosity lacing her voice. I had the distinct impression that she knew very well that I hadn't been there.

James and I both opened our mouths to reply, but Abbie beat us to it.

"I suspect Eva's been to her share of Puddlemere open practices," she said with an ever-so-slight roll of her eyes. "She probably had better things to do."

Exactly. Like purchasing a kitchen table.

Lilith ignored Abbie's comment. "The rest of the Holyhead reserves team was there."

I had to literally bite my tongue to keep from saying the snarky comment that had come to mind.

James gave Lilith a strange look that I couldn't interpret. "Eva will be there another time," he defended me.

Lilith lifted of one shoulder in the slightest of shrugs and smiled at James. "Of course."

"I will," I said firmly, making direct eye contact with Lilith. "James's success at Puddlemere means a lot to me."

I felt James take my hand and give it a small squeeze.

"Of course, it does," she replied, seeming surprised by my comment. I wondered if I had misinterpreted her tone earlier. Maybe I was projecting my own feelings of guilt about missing open practice and unfairly assuming that others were judging me for it.

"James is a fantastic addition to the team," Abbie cut in before Lilith could say anything further. "We're glad to have him."

"I want to introduce Eva to Leo and Zafar," James said, pulling me away. "We'll see you later."

"Have fun!" Abbie told us while Lilith merely smiled.

"They're the other Chasers, right?" I asked, trying to remember everything that James had told me about the other members of the Puddlemere reserves. Given that the topic was Quidditch I had a decent chance at having remembered correctly, but considering my notoriously bad memory I didn't to risk it.

He nodded. "Yeah, they're a laugh. They're the sort that I feel we would've been friends with if we'd all been at Hogwarts together."

With that image in my head, I mentally expected to meet grown up versions of Fred. In terms of personality I wasn't altogether wrong, though neither man looked anything like Fred. In height and build they were similar to each other, both tall and slender. But that's where the similarities ended.

Leo was pale with light eyes and long, white blond hair casually tied back in a ponytail. He looked rather like someone out of a Norse myth come to life except for the fact that he was wearing light grey robes. Zafar, on the other hand, had close cropped black hair and dark eyes. His gold colored robes completed his dark skin, and he wore a trendy pair of glasses. I wondered if he wore the glasses on the pitch. Seemed hazardous.

Zafar smiled mischievously at me when James introduced me. "So, this is Eva, huh?" he said and gently elbowed Leo. "We'd better not say anything to embarrass James, eh Leo?"

"Wouldn't dream of it," Leo's mouth quirked up in a knowing smirk.

James's ears turned pink at their words, a sight I was always found amusing.

"Oh?" I asked, curious about what kinds of stories about James they might have already only a few weeks into his time on the team. "Do tell."

"I think Matt's waving to me," James desperately scanned the crowd, looking for an escape.

"Do you reckon we should tell her?" Zafar asked Leo.

"Should we really, though?" Leo pretended to deliberate.

"Someone has to," Zafar heaved a fake sigh and sounding resigned. "Poor girl can't hear it from someone else."

"You're right. It's probably for the best," Leo agreed with a sad shake of his pale head.

For his part, James was staring at the pair, eyebrow raised, skepticism written all over his face. Clearly, he had no idea what they were going to say which left me all the more curious.

Zafar and Leo exchanged a glance, then Leo looked to me. "James here nearly sicked up on the pitch the first day of practice."

"I did not!" James protested at the exact same moment that I said, "Not again?"

"Again?" Zafar laughed loudly. "We were just taking the mickey! He was fine. Nervous, but fine."

James's ears were positively flaming by this point. Oops. Well, I hadn't known. After all, I hadn't been there.

"I sense there's a story here?" Leo prodded, looking highly amused.

James gave a long-suffering sigh. "When I tried out for the Gryffindor Quidditch team my second year, I was so nervous that I sicked up on the pitch. That's really all there is to the story."

"Not so fast," I reminded him with a smirk of my own. "You didn't just sick up on the pitch, you vomited directly on Sean's trainers. He was a Chaser and in our sixth year was the team captain," I explained to Leo and Zafar as they laughed uproariously.

"Sean and I didn't get off on the right foot," James joked. "It's probably why we never got on."

"You didn't get on because you constantly antagonized him," I pointed out. As much as I liked James and (now) disliked Sean, it was the truth. James had been a persistent thorn in Sean's side and had frequently sought to undermine him.

"He did the same thing to me," James reminded me crossly.

"That's fair," I acknowledged. Sean had hardly been a fan of James. And Sean had turned out to be a massive plank.

"Wow," Zafar said. "Sounds like you two have quite the Quidditch history together."

We both nodded as James said, "We both joined the Gryffindor team in our third year and played together for four years."

"But we weren't friends until seventh year," I added.

"Whose fault was that?"

Um, what? Was he not remembering anything that had happened in our seven years at Hogwarts? Like sneaking hair dye into my shampoo bottles? Framing me for permanently sticking posters to the staircase?

I raised an incredulous eyebrow in James's direction. "You're taking the mickey, right? You're the one who spent half of sixth year picking fights with me!"

"Because I fancied you."

"Aw, Leo, they're so precious!" Zafar laughed and reached out to fondly tousle James's already untidy hair.

"You've never said that about me and Mitsuko," Leo pretended to be offended.

Zafar countered with, "Well, you've never said Thad and I were precious."

"You know full well that you and your husband are adorable and you tell everyone so at every opportunity."

"Guilty," Zafar shrugged nonchalantly.

"Did you two know each other before you joined Puddlemere?" I asked, curious about the history between the two Chasers.

"I've never met him before in my life," Leo said in a completely deadpan voice but then ruined the effect by laughing. "We've been mates since Hogwarts."

"We were in the same year in Hufflepuff," Zafar further elaborated.

"I joined up with Puddlemere right after Hogwarts and Zaf was with Wigtown."

"I was a long time Puddlemere fan," Zafar said, immediately sparking my interest. "My contract with the Wanderers was due for renewal, and I had some other offers, so I jumped at the chance to come to Puddlemere. It's a dream to play for Puddlemere, even if only on the reserves."

The news that Zafar had started his Quidditch career at another team but had accomplished his dream to play for his favorite team filled me with hope. If other players had done it, perhaps so could I.

"But I learned a lot at Wigtown," Zafar said, looking right at me. I had the feeling that he knew I had wanted to play for Puddlemere. I wondered how much James had told them about me. "I wouldn't trade that time for anything."

Leo glanced at a watch on his wrist. "Not to break things up, but I should probably find Mitsuko. I left her talking with Poppy but haven't seen her since."

For the first time that evening, I allowed myself to gaze around the pub. Chatting in a corner were the three Puddlemere main Chasers, Poppy Thompson, Rajiv Ranganathan, and Fionn Danann. And there was Iuan Rhys with Niamh Mahoney standing by the bar. Someone I thought might be Matt Warwick waved at James from across the room. Leo slug an around the shoulders of a dark-haired woman I assumed was Mitsuko.

I couldn't help thinking that these people might have been my teammates had things turned out differently. But then again…I enjoyed my teammates at Holyhead. I had been trying not to let my thoughts show in my face, but James knew me too well.

He leaned over and asked quietly in my ear, "Do you want to go home?"

I almost told him that I was fine. But then I nodded. "Yeah. Sorry."

"Eva, don't be sorry," James told me, an edge of exasperation in his voice. "I know this was a lot to ask of you."

Well, that was true, but I'd also had a good time despite my expectations.

"I had fun, really," I told him with a smile. "I'm glad you asked me."

"I'm glad you said yes," James smiled back and reached up to ruffle his hair. "I was a bit surprised, actually."

He wasn't the only one. From the moment I'd agreed to come out to this party I'd been second guessing my decision. But everything had turned out fine. More than fine, really.

I shrugged, not really sure what to say. I didn't want to tell him that I'd felt guilty and like a bad girlfriend who wasn't supporting his dreams and career. I had been telling the truth when I'd told Lilith that James's success at Puddlemere meant a lot to me. It was just that it was tricky to balance that with my own feelings of disappointment about Puddlemere.

James placed a hand on my back and steered me through the crowd towards the exit. "Do you want to stop somewhere for banoffee pie before we go back to your flat?" he leaned over and asked against my hair.

"Ew, no." I wrinkled my nose in distaste. "Why would you suggest something so revolting?"

I could hear the smirk in his voice even if I couldn't see it. "Can't help it, I'm afraid. I have it on good authority that I'm incorrigible."

~…~…~…~…~…~…~…

"Ms. Owens brought those by along with a weather report from King Arthur," Christine greeted me the next morning. She slid a crisp Morning Prophet and a glossy Witch Weekly across the new kitchen table toward me.

I eyed the mail skeptically. "Have you read them?" I asked, trusting Christine let me know if they contained anything horrid and worth knowing about ahead of time.

She nodded and took a sip from the mug of tea she was holding. "The Witch Weekly article is by Sorcha, obviously. The Prophet article is by Rita Skeeter."

Holy hippogriffs. I mentally and outwardly cringed.

"Sorcha's article is fine, actually," she reassured me. "But Rita Skeeter's…well, she makes a lot of ludicrous claims. Obviously."

Poor Decisions at Puddlemere

By Rita Skeeter, Gossip Columnist

Fans of Quidditch know that in the past, Puddlemere United coach Oliver Wood has made some questionable decisions concerning his team, but these latest developments bring his credibility into even more doubt. Many readers will doubtless remember last year when Wood signed his eldest son, Tristan, to the Puddlemere reserves only to have his son break his contract mere months later and join the Tornados main team to little acclaim.

It seemed that Wood had learned his lesson about nepotism when he chose not to give his daughter, Eva, a spot on the Puddlemere reserves. (Sources report that Miss Wood was angered by the decision.) However, after Saturday's open practice at Puddlemere's stadium, it would appear that Oliver Wood has allowed sentiment to cloud his judgement once again.

James Potter, son of the famous Harry Potter, was named to the Puddlemere reserves amid rumors of favoritism and Saturday seems to have proven these rumors true. Potter's performance was adequate at best and it's questionable if he has much true talent. Why then, would Oliver Wood select Potter to the reserves?

Readers should remember that James Potter and Eva Wood are dating. Sources close to the couple report that the pair has had an often-stormy relationship (Readers may be interested to know that Eva Wood was not present at Puddlemere's open practice.)

Nonetheless, Oliver Wood is said to approve the match. Furthermore, Oliver Wood captained Harry Potter during his time on the Gryffindor Quidditch team at Hogwarts. Surely, it's not too much to suggest that old feelings of friendship affected the decision to hire the son of his former teammate. And considering that their favored children are dating, well, it's clear that Oliver Wood has traded in one form of nepotism for another.

"That….that cow!" I crumpled up the Morning Prophet in both my hands and pitched it as hard as I could into the bin. If only we had been in the sitting room, I would have thrown it straight into the fireplace. Not that we had a fire lit in September, mind. But it was the principal of the thing.

"Er, I think Ms. Owens may have wanted that back," Christine said slowly, eyeing the bin.

I ignored this comment. "What a load of absolute rubbish. Why is she allowed to get away with this?"

Christine sighed heavily. "Because people like gossip. But hardly anything in there is true. You know it, and the people who matter know it."

"Hmph."

"You should read Sorcha's column," Christine suggested, clearly trying to make me feel better, although I wasn't sure how reading Witch Weekly would help.

My clear disbelief must have shown on my face because Christine nudged the magazine towards me with an encouraging, "It might actually make you feel better."

The scoop on the recent Puddlemere United open practice

By Witch Weekly Quidditch Correspondent Sorcha Patterson.

Puddlemere's main team remains strong, led by team captain and Keeper Ieuan Rhys. Currently, no changes have been made to the slate of main team players from last season.

The Puddlemere reserves have two new additions, James Potter (Seeker) and Lilith Edmonds (Chaser). Potter was a standout player for Gryffindor during his time at Hogwarts, joining the team in his third year after a year spent on reserves. Word among Quidditch scouts is that James Potter was one of the most highly sought after recruits this season and even received main team offers. Edmonds is a late comer to Quidditch, having played only one year on the Ravenclaw team at Hogwarts. Both Potter and Edmonds acquitted themselves well at practice, showing that Coach Wood made an excellent decision in adding these two to the reserves.

Longtime coach Oliver Wood put both the main and reserve sides through their paces, requiring players to perform advanced plays and maneuvers. Quidditch correspondents from the Prophet, Quidditch Weekly, and others seemed impressed by the improvements in communication made by the team since the last open practice.

Several notable people were in attendance at Saturday's open practice, including most of the members of the Holyhead Harpies, the Wimbourne Wasps, Tutshill Tornados, and Ballycastle Bats. Harry and Ginny Potter were of course in attendance to see their son, James, in his first open practice. Also present from the extended Potter-Weasley family were Ron Weasley and George Weasley.

"All right," I conceded as I set down Witch Weekly, "I do feel a bit better. She was surprisingly sane and focused on the right topic."

"Words I'd never thought to hear about Sorcha," Christine agreed with a rueful smile, clearing away her mug and plate. She waved her wand, and soapy water streamed forth into the sink. Another wave and the dishcloth began to scrub the tea mug.

"Also, King Arthur predicts rain today," Christine added as a towel began drying the dishes. With a wave of her wand, she sent the mug and plate back to their respective shelves.

"Shocking. What's the point of an augury in England?" I wondered out loud. I mean, wouldn't King Arthur be alerting Ms. Owens to rain multiple times a week? Seemed redundant to me.

"Well, for one thing, we're in Wales."

"Britain, then," I amended. "We're still on a rainy island."

Christine shrugged. "At the very least, he's a pretty bird. And now I know to take an umbrella with me today."

~…~…~…~…~…~…~…

Dear Eva,

Thanks for your letter. I've been wanting to write you, but I wasn't sure what to say. Tryouts are tomorrow and I've been in a right flap about it all week. What if no one decent comes out? What if I have to pick between bad and worse?

Bree is across the room, telling me to breathe.

Speaking of Bree… she and Nico really haven't talked much since they broke up. Just a few brief words at practice. He's still upset with her, and she knows that she hurt him and is trying to give him space. It hasn't affected Quidditch yet and I hope it doesn't. It's a massive help that they don't play the same position or I'd seriously worry about their ability to communicate effectively on the pitch.

I suppose with three couples on the team last year, at least one of them was bound to break up sooner or later (not to be pessimistic about you and James!) I just wish it could have happened under better circumstances. Bree is my best friend, but I think she's treated Nico badly, and I told her so.

I miss you and James. I want the team we had last year back. We were so good, imagine what we could do if we had more time to play together. Ah well. I'd better finish my Charms essay so Flitwick doesn't have another reason to despair of me.

Thanks for letting me vent.

Zara

~…~…~…~…~…~…~…

I yawned and blinked a few times. I realized that I'd apparently fallen asleep without meaning to. Oops. Well, in my defense, practice today had been grueling. I'd lost count on how many sets of forward and reverse passes we'd done at practice. All I knew was that my arms and brain were tired.

Pulling myself off of my bed (I hadn't even bothered to crawl beneath the blankets), I staggered out of my room and down the hallway. Reaching the end of the short hallway, I stopped abruptly. I wasn't fully awake yet, but I was awake enough to realize that I had stumbled in on Christine and Kieran sharing a quiet moment together.

As always, I was struck by what a truly sweet couple those two were. They were talking quietly, sitting on the sofa, Christine's legs draped over Kieran's lap and his fingers playing with the short ends of her hair.

They were clearly caught up in each other and hadn't noticed my presence even though I hadn't been particularly quiet in my entrance. Christine leaned into Kieran's hand and reached out to brush her hand against his jaw.

Slowly backing away, I decided to leave them alone in peace.

Naturally, that was the moment when I proceeded to trip over my own feet and knock into the wall, all before falling flat on my back in the middle of the hallway.

Christine gave a startled gasp and jumped as Kieran turned bright red.

Pushing myself off the ground I said the first thing that came to mind.

"Hi Kieran."

Merlin, my brothers were right. What an awkward soul.

"Are you all right?" he asked, his lips twitching upwards as he tried not to smile.

"Oh, you know, just feeling like I want to Disapparate."

That was the point at which Christine started laughing. Some best friend.

"Sorry, long day," I said by way of explanation. Not that a busy or tiring day had ever been a reason for my awkwardness. "The trainers pushed us really hard today."

"When don't they?" Christine asked rhetorically.

"Ugh," was my response. Then panic suddenly set in as I remembered my dinner plans with James. "Wait! What time is it?"

I looked around frantically for a clock. Why in the name of all things magical didn't we have a clock in the sitting room? I made a mental note to purchase a wall clock.

"James won't be here for a quarter hour," Christine reassured me. "Don't worry, I was just about to come and wake you up. After all, I wouldn't want you to be late for your second date. Or is this your third?"

"Wait…" Kieran held up a hand, a confused expression gracing his face. "Second date? Have I missed something?"

"I forgot I hadn't told you!" Christine practically crowed.

Looking completely bewildered (as well he might) Kieran turned to me for an explanation.

"It's not really our second date – or third - in the traditional sense," I told him. "A few weeks ago, James and I realized that somehow we'd never gone out just the two of us. I mean, we've gone running and stuff, but that's not exactly what you'd call a proper date, is it?"

If possible, Kieran looked even more confused.

"How?" he asked, then added. "I'm not judging, I just…You've been dating since February. And you went out with Jonathan just the two of you. How did you and James never even go for supper?"

Oh holy hippogriffs. Even Kiran was more observant about my own life than me. Pathetic. Utterly pathetic.

"We're busy people!" I said somewhat hotly, feeling the need to defend myself. "And we spend plenty of time together."

Just then, there was a knock on the door. That was scarily good timing on James's part.

"Hullo," he said when I opened the door. He leaned down and kissed me before realizing that we weren't alone in the sitting room.

"Hi," Christine waved while Kieran just smiled.

"Er, hi," James said, his ears turning a bit pink.

"I hear you're going on your second date," Kieran commented with a slight laugh.

"Yeah," James grinned. "I finally wore her down and got her to agree to go out with me after all these months of spending time together and meeting each other's families."

I gently poked him in the side. "You're incorrigible, James Potter."

He smirked down at me. "You love it."

Maybe, but I wasn't going to tell him that and give him the satisfaction.

I grinned up at him. "If you want a third date, you'd better be nice to me."

~…~…~…~…~…~…~…

"So," James said over dinner. "How are things going with Coach Rinaldi?"

"Meh," I answered, taking a sip from my glass. "I don't think she likes me much, but she's tough on everyone. It's perfection or nothing with her."

"I wonder how she compares to Trainer Day," he said, looking thoughtful. "In terms of friendliness, I meant," he clarified.

I snorted into my sparkling water. "It might be a draw. Although Coach Rinaldi is still observing us until next week, so she could conceivably be holding out on us and lulling us into a false sense of security."

"Oi," James grimaced, then picked up the dessert menu at the end of the table. "Want to split a piece of banoffee pie?"

I pulled a face in response to his teasing grin. "Absolutely not. You can keep that vile concoction to yourself."

"Your loss," he smirked. "It's a national treasure."

"More like a national disgrace. Give me a nice Bakewell or treacle tart any day."

"Sorry." An unfamiliar woman said as she approached our table. She was wearing violet robes and a matching hat and looked to be in her fifties. "Are you Eva Wood and James Potter?"

"Yes," James said simply but with a smile. "And you are?"

She appeared flattered that James had asked. "Agnes Dalingridge, lovely to meet you. I'm a lifelong Quidditch fan and I read about you two in Witch Weekly. I thought you were the sweetest things and I just wanted you to know that I'm rooting for you. I hope there is an engagement in the next few years."

Oh, holy hippogriffs.

"Oh," I said, completely taken aback by what had just happened.

"That's nice of you to say," James told the woman with his usual charming smile.

Agnes turned to me with a smile and said in a mock whisper. "I think he's a keeper, dear."

"He's all right," I replied with a small smile at James. He smirked back at me.

"Oh, aren't you precious!" Agnes exclaimed far too happily for someone who had met us mere minutes ago. "I can't wait to tell Sorcha that I met you."

"Sorcha?" the smile dropped from my face. "Sorcha Patterson? From Witch Weekly?"

"That's her," Agnes nodded enthusiastically. "I'm friends with her mother. I've known that sweet girl her whole life. She speaks highly of you both."

"I want to sink into the floor," I said quietly after Agnes had finally returned to her own table after telling us one more time what a sweet couple we were. A few people at other tables were glancing our way now.

"It wasn't so bad," James shrugged. "I've definitely had worse encounters with strangers."

I raised an eyebrow. "A perfect stranger just told us that she wants us to be engaged."

"All right, that was odd," James conceded. "But she didn't ask any nosy questions."

"I suppose," I grudgingly conceded. I supposed we had to take our victories where we could.

"I guess I'm used to it because of my dad," James shrugged again. "People have been approaching me and saying strange things all of my life."

"Oi," I sighed. "Let's ask for the cheque and go back to the flat before anyone else tells us how precious we are."

~…~…~…~…~…~…~…

Once the door closed to Ms. Owens' building, her voice rang out from her sitting room. "Is that you, ducks?"

I had no idea if she was referring to me or Christine. Ms. Owens referred to both of us (as well as Kieran) as ducks, so things became a bit confusing at times.

"It's Eva, Ms. Owens," I called out.

"And James," James added, grinning at me as he did so.

"James Potter?!" I heard Ms. Owens suddenly bustling towards the door.

"Now look what you've done," I whispered to James, who looked completely unrepentant.

"Eirlys Owens," Ms. Owens pumped James' hand enthusiastically in greeting. "I'm thrilled to meet you, simply thrilled."

"It's nice to meet you too, Ms. Owens." The charming smile made a reappearance.

"Just look at you," she peered into his face. "You resemble your father, with hints of your mother. I'm sure you know, but your father's a great man."

"He is, thank you."

"I read all about Puddlemere's open practice – couldn't get there myself this year – it sounds as though you did splendidly, ducks."

Oh good, another ducks. Just what we needed around here. The more the merrier.

"Nice of you to say," James told her. "I'm still adjusting to the team, of course, but I feel as though I'm playing well."

"I'm sure you are, ducks," she assured him with a solemn nod of her grey head. "Well, I'll let you two get on. What a sweet couple you make. Have a good night. Sleep tight."

She made her way back to her sitting room where I could hear the Wizarding Wireless Network playing quietly.

"Ducks, huh?" James asked quietly as we made our way up the stairs to the flat.

"Welcome to the club."

Granted, the club seemed to consist of anyone she remotely liked but there were worse things than being called ducks, I supposed. Ms. Owens was friendly, the rent was reasonable, and she was allowing us to attempt to grow some basil and oregano in the back garden. All in all, it was a good situation and a good start to my adult life.

~…~…~…~…~…~…~…

"I see you're in Witch Weekly again, Eva," Tegan remarked observationally as we all dressed for practice.

Siobhan snorted. "Why do you read that rubbish?" she asked, her voice dripping with disdain.

"If there's Quidditch rumors going around I'd rather know about them than be blindsided," Teagan argued. "Besides, I'm hardly ever mentioned. It's our Eva who's the popular one."

"I don't want to be popular with Witch Weekly readers," I wrinkled my nose in distaste. Merlin, I couldn't think of anything worse, except maybe one on one practices with Coach Rinaldi. Ugh.

"Well, what's it about this time?" Branwen asked, shutting her locker door. "Don't keep us waiting in suspense."

Isobel finished lacing up her trainers and stood up. "It was just a photo and caption. Hardly anything to worry about."

"Just let me share my gossip, would you?" Teagan joked. "It's my greatest joy in life."

"Well, just tell us already!" Annika laughed.

"There was a photo of Eva and James at a restaurant. He was showing her something on the menu and she was making a face. It was actually all very adorable."

They'd gotten a photo of me refusing James's suggestion of banoffee pie? Oh, holy hippogriffs, of all the moments to capture. And when, exactly, had someone taken our picture?

"Enough inane chit chat," Coach Rinaldi said by way of greeting as she strode into the locker room. Behind the assistant coach's back, Teagan rolled her eyes.

"The official calendar for the season has been announced," Coach Rinaldi told us. "It looks as though we have a tough match up first."

Please not Puddlemere, I thought desperately to myself. Not Puddlemere, not the first match. Any team but Puddlemere.

"We'll be facing the Tutshill Tornadoes."

I breathed a sigh of relief before her words fully sunk in. The Tornadoes… I almost wanted to take back my wish. The likelihood of my being called upon to replace one of the main Chasers was slim, but I'd still be on the sidelines as part of the team.

I'd still be facing Tristan in my first ever professional match.

~…~…~…~…~…~…~…

Thank you to everyone who waited so long for this chapter. I appreciate your understanding and patience. Thoughts? Comments? Questions? Favorite quotes? I'd love to hear what you thought!

Next Chapter: Eva receives a very interesting and surprising letter, there is a double date, and we see Tristan again.