The whole gang (minus Louis) flooed back to James, Fred, Louis and Dominique's flat. It was a magical flat; small on the outside, but big and spacey on the inside. Six bedrooms, a kitchen, two full bathrooms, and one half one. A roomy living room for all of them to lounge in and a spacey backyard.
Rose and Scorpius plopped themselves' down on the couch while Roxanne and Al headed for the kitchen. Fred and Dominique helped James gather all of The Daily Prophet articles they had in the house.
"You think Louis has any?" Fred asked.
"Louis," Dominique snorted, "I didn't even know he read."
James dropped a whole pile of at least a dozen thick Daily Prophets on the ground in front of Rose and Scorpius, the stack landing with a thump.
Fred followed suit while Al helped Dominique carry hers.
"Okay troopers, there's seven of us, three stacks of about twelve of these and one name to find out. It shouldn't be too hard," James clapped.
"Don't all you blokes, plus you Rosie, read the sports section every morning when the paper comes in?" Roxanne asked.
"Well, yes," Rose realized.
"Then how come none of you know the name to the sports journalist?"
"Because I always thought it was Lee Jordan doing it," Scorpius said.
"Didn't even know they changed the writer," Al added.
"All of these are written by Lee Jordan," Fred said, "They're all from last year."
James took a look at the one with the latest date from the pile Fred was going through,
"30, December 2028. Jordan's Last Ride."
"He retired at the end of last year," James mumbled.
His eyes scanned the newspaper, going through page through page until his eyes landed on a small section on the bottom right corner of the Quidditch Poll standings. It was an announcement.
"Calling to young, fresh minded witches and wizards looking for a place in the Prophet and have a love for Wizarding Sports! The Daily Prophet needs an inspiring, new writer for The Daily Snitch with strong, unbiased opinions, a sense of humour and a determination to do whatever you can do to get the latest sports scoop! Contact The Daily Prophet editor and chief, Barney Cuffe!
"She's new to the paper," James said.
"Not really," Roxanne said, pointing to a spot on the paper. It read, "Article 265 by Olivia Wood. This is her latest."
"Olivia Wood?" James asked, "That's not right," he shook his head, "Her name cannot be Olivia."
"What makes you say that?" Rose asked.
"She's definitely a witch. Where do all witches go for school?" he pressed.
"Hogwarts," Rose answered.
Dominique shrugged, "I went to Beauxbatons."
James ignored her, "Olivia Wood doesn't ring a bell. Olivia must be a pen name."
"Is Wood familiar?" Scorpius asked, "Wood is probably her last name, that's why the 'W's capitalized on your arm."
"Wood?" Fred smiled, "Like Oliver Wood?"
Al smiled with him, "Oliver Wood. Olivia Wood. Quidditch player. Quidditch writer. James, I think you're in love with your childhood heroes daughter."
James ignored him, too, "I don't remember there being a Wood though at Hogwarts when we were there."
"There were certainly none in our year," Fred nodded. The two cousins were in the same year together, as was Dominique, only she went to France.
"Same," Scorpius said, he Rose and Al were two years younger than Fred, James and Dom.
"She looked like she was our age though, or at least close. She couldn't have been Lily's age, or Victoire's. She couldn't have been too young or at least a year older than me." James said.
"She must've been in Louis's year!" Roxanne gasped. Roxanne herself was a year younger than Scorpius, Al and Rose.
"Bloody hell," James muttered, "The one time the prince is useful, he's not here."
"Doesn't Hogwarts give you yearbooks?" Dominique asked.
All their faces fell, "I don't have mine," Fred mumbled.
"Neither do I," Rose said and everyone then agreed.
"Mine's at mum and dad's," James sighed, "And their in Italy at the moment with the house on complete lockdown. Dad's got spells on every wall and corner."
Dominique frowned, but then smiled again, "Louis's the type of egomaniac to keep all his class pictures, club photos, really anything that has his on it, stored in his room. I'm sure he's got a yearbook in there," she hurriedly stood up with James and ran to Louis's room.
Upon opening the door, James and Dominique crashed into it as it was locked.
"Bloody hell," James grumbled, "Alohomora," he said. The door didn't unlock, "Alohomora," he rattled the knob.
"Bloody hell, what does Louis have in there that has to be locked up so well?" Dominique swore, pushing the door, "I just want James to find love already!" she roared.
James huffed and let go of the door knob, "I guess this'll wait till morning."
They returned to the living room with the rest of their cousins. He plopped himself onto the couch, his head in Dominique's lap, "The one time I get serious about a girl, she turns out to be a complete mystery and completely cryptic."
Rose shrugged, curling into Scorpius, "I like this girl. Any girl that can keep you on your toes, is a girl that's good especially for you."
"Try cracking that bad penis joke on your arm," Fred advised.
James looked at it, "Angry-straight Wood."
"Maybe you're supposed to find words like those ones," Scorpius said, "Angry could be like furious, straight could mean line. Or Translate the words into other languages and it might make sense."
"You're on to something, Malfoy," James sighed, "I'll try the first one since I don't know any language other than english," he furrowed, "I'll take line, so Blank-line Wood."
"Another word for angry could be…" Roxanne started.
"Mad!" everyone said together.
They were all smiling like crazy.
"Mad-Line Wood. Madline Wood. Mad-uh-line Wood. Madeline Wood! We've got a name. Madeline Wood!" James cheered. He looked down at the rest of the writing, # 795/265 Bricks/stone Street. "Al, you're good at Arithmetics. Divide 795 by 265."
"Bloody hell, James, I'd like an easier one," Al complained.
James glared at him, and Al rolled his eyes, "Fine, fine. Carry the five, divide that, and," he had a quizzical look on his face, "3? Yes, 3."
"#3 Bricks/stone Street," James frowned, "Do any of you know where Bricks/stone street is?"
"Does it matter? You've got a name, an address - sort of - try it!" Fred laughed.
James sat in front of the fire and was about to throw the floo powder in until Rose clapped her hand over his, "No."
"No?" he stared at her bemused.
"No," she confirmed, "Don't want to like eager, do you?"
James thought about it and nodded, "Right. Right," he sighed, "I'll wait till-"
"Till Louis comes back," she finished for him.
He nodded again, returning to his spot on his couch.
A few more drinks passed around, blankets were distributed and the lights had been shut off, the flat was still and quiet within the hour, as they all fell asleep.
~~O~~
Louis unlocked the door to the flat. A quarter until lunch, he was feeling pretty hungry, disappointed when he didn't see Dominique cooking through the window.
He was half surprised when he saw all of them passed out on the couches in the living room. He half suspected it noticing James's state the night before.
What could've bothered his cousin so much? He had no idea.
To wake them up, Louis reached for the doorbell outside and rang it, holding it for a while.
They all jumped and spotted him, groaning as they let their heads back into their pillows.
"Moooooorning," he said cheekily.
Rose groaned even louder, giving him a rude gesture before snuggling in closer to Scorpius.
"And I thought I was going to have an active night," Louis smirked, "What did you all do?"
"We tried finding James's bloody mystery girl," Roxanne grumbled.
"And we did," Fred added.
"And I need to know if you know her," James finished.
Louis look at him surprised and confused as he sat down on the arm of the couch James and Dominique were on. "Know her? As in if I slept with her? Because the only muggle girls I know are the ones I bed."
"That's disgusting, Lou Lou," Dominique grumbled.
"She's not muggle," James said, "She's a witch. And I do believe she was in your year," he yawned.
"My year?"
"Do you have your yearbook?" Al asked, "I want to know why we've never noticed this girl before."
Louis shrugged and left to get his yearbook.
Giving it to James, he said, "What's the bird's name? I probably know her."
"Madeline Wood," James said, "Madeline, evil, Wood," he was flying through the pages.
"Sounds familiar," Louis grumbled, "So you've got a name, know the girl, why don't you floo her?"
"'Cause Rose said not to," James was completely absorbed in the book.
"Madeline Wood, Madeline, Wood. Madeline. Wood. Sounds very familiar," Louis drawled, lifting his feet up onto the coffee table. Dominique would've scolded him, but instead she stretched out, laid her head in his lap and her feet in James's.
Finally, James stopped flipping through the pages, "I found her," he whispered, Dominique sat up to see, "Madeline O. Wood. Ravenclaw," he read.
"Lemme see that," Louis pulled the book away. The girl in the moving picture gave him a nervous smile and a shy wave. "Madeline. This little Maddie. The most discreet girl I've ever met. Used to try and talk to her but she'd cower away as if I was the new dark lord or something."
Rose looked over his shoulder, "I can see why James hadn't noticed her before. She's not really his type."
And James couldn't help but accept that it was true. The Madeline Wood in the yearbook had a faint acne problem, she was thin faced, thin armed, legged, bodied, and her hair was a bit stringy.
"I also don't believe you've tried to talk to her, Louis. What would someone like you want from her?" Rose added.
He glared at her, "She's bloody brilliant in charms and potions. I needed help. She's also the announcer for Quidditch games at school."
"I-I've never noticed," James stuttered.
"That's because she commentates all the Gryffindor games while Finnigan does the others. She fills in for Finnigan," Louis explained.
"She was a bit of a shadow, that's why it was so hard to notice her, mate. Don't feel too bad for being a superficial asshole," he said. Dominique elbowed his gut. "Anyways," he wheezed, "I'm guessing she's different now since you did notice her. Was she your conquest last night?"
James nodded ashamedly.
Louis snapped his fingers, "Thomas Finnigan sent me a magazine from Quidditch Illustrated. He said a classmate of ours was in it. It must be her since she's the new writer!" he ran to his room retrieving the magazine, "This is Madeline Wood? Bloody hell, she gorgeous now!"
James took the magazine from him. Madeline or Olivia or whatever, was wearing a Puddlemere United Jersey, holding a notepad in one hand and a broom in the other. She was leaning in, the neck of her shirt caught in her teeth seductively. James eyes darkened at the sight of how sexy she looked. Then he remembered how Louis had this in his room, and how Thomas Finnigan had his own copy and how every other bloke who subscribed to the magazine had it. His face burned.
Al snorted, "I've told you this before, but I never really knew it'd happen. Your insensibility towards girl's feeling will later bite you in the bum. The girl you've gone to school with for six years and hadn't noticed once, is the same girl that would get you to fall unbelievably in love with."
Roxanne hit him in the head, "I don't remember you noticing her either."
Al blushed.
"I just don't know how I know so little about her, and she knows so much about me," James sighed.
Rose snorted, "James, I'm pretty sure the papers have their own library for the number of times you've made appearances. From the day Aunt Ginny found out she was pregnant with you, to a week ago when The Prophet got your intake on the Minister's corruption. You're a usual in the papers."
James groaned and frowned.
Fred, noticing the look on James face sighed, "How about we have lunch outside while James handles some stuff."
Rose nodded, stretching her arm over Scorpius's shoulder, "Good with me."
They all filed out to the back porch, Dominique wrapped in a blanket, Louis's arm around her shoulder. Al and Fred walked behind Roxanne, poking her in the back, annoying her.
As Scorpius shut the back porch sliding door, the flat went completely quiet. James sighed, rubbed his face and kneeled in front of the fireplace.
Digging his hand into the bowl of floo powder, he tossed it into the fireplace and said, "Madeline Wood," the fire went ablaze in green flames and James got the view of a light blue wall, a wall table pressed against it, a mirror hanging over. Nothing else could be seen in his view. Disappointed, James was about to put the fire out when he heard her voice.
"Yes, how early can the trucks come? 12:30? Alright. Number 3 Brixton Street West," she said, "Alright, thank you. Good day."
He could hear her walk away farther from the fireplace, and the flames began to die out.
Soon his view of the house disappeared. James got up, showered and dressed, grabbing his coat and walking out of the flat.
~~O~~
"Where do you think he could've gone?" Dominique frowned.
Al opened the bathroom door, "He must've just left, there's still a draft."
"He went to see the girl, I spect," Scorpius smirked.
Rose snorted, "He's really bloody serious about this."
Fred shrugged and sighed, "I don't know, it's a first time thing, he's probably bloody nervous about this all."
~~O~~
James let out a shaky breath, staring at the coloured, two story townhouses.
"Number 3 Brixton Street," he mumbled, "West. Alright," he let out another breath.
He walked towards the townhouse where two big and red moving trucks were parked. He passed Number 1, then Number 2 till he finally got directly in front of Number 3, a light mauve coloured house with white panes and a dark roof.
Two Muggle men exited the front door carrying a long, wide box. Madeline followed in tow, wearing a shirt and overalls, her tied up.
Her hands sat on her hip as she watched the men. Her ponytail was messy, and one buckle of her overalls were undone.
She was about to go back into the house when she caught his glance. She raised an eyebrow, then smiled. He heard her say to the men, "You all must be hungry. I've got sandwiches on the back porch and some orange juice for all of you."
"Oh thank you, ma'am," one of them said, "We'll be quick."
Madeline nodded, "Help yourselves," she said as the men went into the house. She stuck her hands in her pockets and skipped down the steps. James walked towards her, smiling, his hands in his jeans.
"Hullo," she said to him.
"Hullo," James said back, "Madeline Wood."
She smirked at him impressively, nodding, "Was half hoping you'd find it out when I was gone," she pointed at the moving trucks behind her with her thumb.
James pouted at her, "You didn't want me to find you?"
"I said I was half hoping. I sort of wanted you to find me," she bit her lip, rolling on the balls of her feet.
James smirked, "Alright," he nodded, "Alright, Madeline. By the way, beautiful name. I like it more than Olivia."
She grinned, "Madeline Olivia Wood."
"Explains the 'O'. Big fan of your dad by the way. Anyways, as you know, James Sirius Potter," he held his hand out for her to shake.
She shook it, "I guess we're a lying duo, huh?"
"That's the best kind," he said.
She snorted, "So no hard feelings?"
"None," he said, stepping closer to her.
She raised her eyebrows at the movement and looked away nodding and smirking, "Wow. Alright-"
"You see," he whispered into her ear, "You've intrigued me a bit last night. Had me thinking about you for hours, trying to decipher your little note," Madeline glanced at his arm as he continued, "I think I deserve some sort of compensation for deciphering it."
Madeline bit her lip, nodding, "What did you have in mind, Mr. Potter?"
He grinned, "A date. A lunch date. I'll help you out here, we'll drop off your things to wherever you're moving to and we can go grab some lunch. Haven't had any, you see."
"Well there's four more men in my backyard eating sandwiches, care to join them?" she asked cheekily.
James leaned back and glowered at her, "I knew you were playing games since-"
"I told you not to fall in love with me," she finished for him, "You lost the last game so we're still playing mine-"
James cut her off by leaning in and kissing her hard. It was Madeline's turn to be caught off guard. James moved his lips slowly against her trembling, thin ones. She inhaled the smell of his peppermint breath and tasted the flavour of it, too. His hand had closed around her face, holding her cheeks as hers snaked onto his chest, tugging a bit on his shirt. He bit her lip, pulling it away from her, making her gasp.
She tugged it back away from him, and noticed how labored her breathing had gotten. Her chest was heaving as she stared up at him, him in the same exact state.
"No more games," James said huskily.
"Yeah," she nodded, gasping for air and leaning into his chest, "No more games. Just lunch. I hadn't had lunch either. There's two more boxes in there, and then everything'll get moved to the studio I'm renting. Then we can have some bloody lunch."
James smiled, "I don't understand why you don't just use magic," he whispered, "You are a witch."
She began walking back to the townhouse, James close in tow, "Like I said, I was half hoping you'd find me, thought I'd buy you some time. You Gryffindors take forever to decipher such things-"
"My father is Harry Potter y'know," he quipped.
"Yes, I know. Everyone knows."
James paled, "I'm sorry I didn't recognise you. I'm sorry I didn't even know you."
She shrugged, "Hogwarts was a hatching age for me. Don't worry about it, I wouldn't have either. Don't forget you said I was quite familiar. Anyways, my landlords a muggle, would be really suspicious if everything got moved within minutes," she winked.
James wrapped an arm around her waist as they walked up the stairs, "You're a handfull, you know that right?"
She shrugged once more, "You're an arrogant, self righteous, toe rag who needs to stop looking in the mirror and start looking out of windows."
"Bloody hell," James cursed, "You're going to kill me."
He kissed her.
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