Okay, so I realized that I made the story's status 'Complete' when I still had this chapter to put up. If I left the first one the way it was, it'd make James look like a total jerk, shallow, discriminative, prejudice and all. I don't like that.

Enjoy.

James pulled out Madeline's chair, waited till she settled, then sat down himself, adjacent from her.

They had waited for the movers to finish, James using some magic to make it faster, drove to Madeline's new place, to James's delight. It was a nice spacious studio for one. Her window looked over a river that stretched through London. She thanked the movers, paid them goodbye, then changed into a jacket and jeans, ready for hers and James's date.

She was already skimming through the menu, her cobalt blue fingernails sliding over the cursive font of the menu.

James opened his, saw that they had a some form of a fancy bacon burger with fries, nodded, then shut his menu.

Madeline glanced at him, "Quick decider," she smiled.

"I'm not picky," he said.

She smirked, "Lie."

James felt a wave of guilt pull him into river.

Seeing the colour drain from his face, Madeline rolled her eyes, "Joking. Don't eat up my words too much, will you?" she laughed. She found what she was looking for, called over the waiter with a wave of her hand.

"I really am sorry for not knowing who you were," James apologized for the hundredth time that afternoon, "I mean your dad's basically my hero. How did I not recognise you?"

Madeline shrugged, waiting for the waiter still, "It's a bit hard for someone like me to get notice by someone as famous and sought after as the James Sirius Potter. And thanks, your dad's my hero, too. Actually he's everyone hero-"

"May I take your order?" the waiter interrupted her.

Madeline smiled, "Yes, please. I'll have the scallops and bacon… erm some fries on the side would be nice, too."

The waiter nodded and jotted down her order, "Your drink?"

"I'll have a 7 up, with a lemon please," she smiled.

The waiter turned to James, raised his eyebrows, "The bacon burger sounds good. I'll have fries instead of the baked potatoes though. I'd like a coke."

The waiter nodded, jotted down and smiled, "Your orders will be served shortly."

Madeline sneaked a look at James, whose head was hung low, fingers fiddling with each other.

"Can you stop feeling bad?" she rolled her eyes, "Like I said, I wouldn't have known Madeline was Madeline now."

James raised an eyebrow.

Feeling like she had to explain it, she sighed, "After Hogwarts, I got really sad," she mumbled, "I had super good grades, I was a prefect and I was really good with handling the sports and all. So obviously, I wouldn't have trouble with getting a job. Lie. Wizarding Britain as we know it is superficial, prejudice and rude, so as much as I applied for Ministry jobs, common, simple jobs, even the most basic ones that pay so little, I couldn't get hired because I was bland. You'd think at eighteen I'd lose the pimples, gain some skin and have nicer hair. You'd think I'd try make up and all… but I didn't.

'I'm the only daughter. I've got an older brother, Nick Wood, famous Quidditch Player for Puddlemere United?" she offered, James nodded, being very familiar with the name, "Well, yeah," she continued, "Only girl other than mum. Dad and Nick were more influential than Mum was, though. I was really into Quidditch, but I couldn't play because I was like super skinny and sick all the time so Mum wouldn't allow it. I liked watching Dad and Nick fly and toss the Quaffle around, then they'd come down and talk to me about it. Dad would ask me what Nick did wrong and then Nick would make a joke about how if Dad hadn't done this and that then maybe he'd still be playing," she had a faint smile on her face, remembering.

James was quite familiar with Oliver Wood's great Quidditch accident of 2017, where he got to bludgers in the back and the stomach, injuring him so badly he couldn't play Quidditch anymore. James was devastated except only until Harry had taken him to St. Mungo's to visit Wood and check how he was doing. Two years later, Oliver Wood became the Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports.

"Anyway, I was really into the things they were, so it pulled me away from the girly things like hair shining potions, acne removal remedies, teeth straightening charms, make up, etcetera. So I didn't care what I looked like, I was ugly, I was nerdy and tomboyish, and I was horrifically boney to the point that you could almost hardly pinch some skin, and I was- I just wasn't good looking, not even decent.

'I didn't care though until after Hogwarts I realized how essential looks were," she rolled her eyes, "I should explain why I was sick though. It's really stupid and actually does have to do with my early insecurities and looks. When I was like seven, I was really chubby. Like it wasn't bad chubby, but like chubby. The other seven year olds called me Mad Cow Maddy. So really young, I just lost a desire to eat. And I got sick. And I got skinny. It's sort of like what muggles call anorexia. Mum was really distraught over it, she wanted to help me but vitamins and magic don't really work if I didn't want it to. I just didn't want to be fat again.

'So I got to Hogwarts like super skinny. And people still sort of singled me out for it, but I got used to skipping meals and not eating when I should. So I let that go and engrossed myself in my studies and sports. Then I had this whole acne issue in the third year. I mean first and second year was alright, lots of people like skinny people, but then the pimples kicked in and I was sort of forgotten again. I had some friends. Really good people. So Hogwarts wasn't hell for me.

'My brother was my best friend though. He wasn't like me. He had mum and dad's amazing looks and he was charming and sociable and confident. I wasn't. But he loved me. Made me feel better about myself as much as I could.

'Anyway, after Hogwarts, things got to me. I was sick, but I needed a job, and I had to change some things. I wanted to change my whole sickness thing so tried eating more, but I threw up a lot when I did. Finally, my mum's brother asked if I could fly over to the United States, in an airplane, a muggle transportation device, and stay with him. Mum's muggle, so is the rest of her side of the family. My Uncle was newly divorced at the time. Anyway, he said he could help me with my health issues, he's a gym instructor in the States. So I flew over, and we did as promised. I kept him company, he helped me get fit. I ate better gradually, exercised well, and soon my pimples started going away, and my hair got healthier and things got better. So that's how I went from Madeline then to Madeline now. I like what happened to me, really. I'm one of the few magical witches that don't use magic to beautify themselves," she had a small smile.

The waiter had returned right after she ended, their food on his arms. "Scallops and bacon with fries on the side for the Miss, and a Bacon Burger with fries for the bloke. Would you like anything else?"

James nodded, "Our pop," he gestured to the drinkless table.

The waiter blushed, apologized and retrieved their drinks, returning to serve to them,

Olivia went on when the waiter left, "I'm not saying I agree with, 'Looks are everything,' I don't. Only idiots do and unfortunately the world's filled with them."

James felt a pang of guilt hit his gut.

"I just happen to know how far looks can go," Olivia sighed, "I met this bloke in the States. He was blonde, blue eyed. Hmmm, other than the tan skin and white smile, the two of you are really different… looking… as far as I know," she winked at him, "Anyway, met this bloke, and we hit it off. Then came the, 'Oh'. Like the, 'Oh, so you're not really perfect,' 'Oh'. He was really, hmm, let's just put it this way. I didn't feel like a girlfriend, especially when he was with his friends and in public, really. I felt more like a trophy. We'd try talking and doing stuff other than just… the physical aspects, but all he really wanted to do was look at me. He didn't like talking, he didn't like listening to me. He just liked the way I looked. So I ended it when he said I talked to much, bid farewell to Uncle and flew back to Britain, feeling like it was time to come back home. That was all four years by the way.

'I came back and the day I did I saw an opening for a writing job for the Daily Prophet. Lee Jordan, Dad was familiar with him, was retiring to work on his own great things. I thought the job was fitting. I can write. I can commentate Quidditch games, I'm punctual, the job seemed great. I applied, got hired, then word got out that I was the Head of the Department of Magical Sports and Games, the once most beloved Keeper of Puddlemere United's daughter. Quidditch Illustrated thought it was pretty cool. So they called me up, asked if I could do an interview and a photoshoot. Don't lie to me, mate. You thought I was pretty sexy on that cover don't you?" she flashed a big smile at him.

James frowned, but a hint of pink colored his cheeks, "You didn't only get a pretty face when you went to America, you must've already gotten a big head."

"Well you've always had one," she said.

He glared at her, "What makes you think I saw Quidditch Illustrated's cover?"

She smirked, "Did you?"

James sighed, "Yeah, I did. Thomas Finnigan sent Louis one and he showed me it," James mumbled, "You were quite… sexy," he sighed, "On the cover."

She smiled, "Why thank you," she winked, "I think you were rather dashing on the cover you took back when you were in the seventh year."

James smiled, too. Back in the seventh year, Quidditch Illustrated wanted some good stuff on the infamous son of Harry Potter, who was said to be even better than him and the first James Potter. Which wasn't all that much of a lie. James was pretty good. He was a Keeper and amazing one at it. They had interviewed him, done a photoshoot and soon, James's face and toppless, toned, torso was advertised on the magazine.

"The 'industry' didn't like using my first name, though. So I got a pen name. My middle name-"

"Olivia," James finished for her.

She beamed, "Olivia Wood. They liked how well it tied in with Dad's name."

"What do you prefer?"

She studied him, "I like the way you say Madeline. You can call me Madeline."

"How many people call you that?"

"Mum and Nick. Dad likes using Olivia," she smiled.

James exhaled, "Woooow."

"My whole life's story."

He smiled at her, "I'm really sorry though. And I feel like even more of a tosser now that I only noticed you when you got pretty. I'm really sorry, but understand what really intrigued me about you was not your looks, but was how you were so blasé with me. It bothered me but really intrigued me."

"You're just not used to people not ogling over you," she smirked.

He chuckled, "I really am sorry. I think you're quite interesting, and still intriguing and just really cool. I like you."

She snorted, "I think I caught that last part a few kisses ago."

James smiled, "I'm-"

"If you say you're sorry one more time then I'll completely regret that I told you so much," she had her hand over his mouth.

She felt him smirk against her palm, and then she felt him lick it. "Ew!" she shrieked, "James!"

He smiled as she threw her hand away from her.

"So?" he drawled.

"So what?"

He sighed and then pursed his lips together, "I want to go on more dates with you."

She raised an eyebrow.

"Like I said. I think you're amazing. I like you. A lot really."

Madeline nodded, seeming to think about it, "You're not all that bad," she admitted to herself, "I guess it wouldn't hurt to give you a try."

James couldn't help but smile. He noticed her plate was empty now, and he only had a fry left. Picking it up and sticking it into his mouth, he said to her, "Let's go for a walk."

"Please," Madeline agreed, "Some fresh air would be nice."

He put down some muggle money, putting a bit more than he should've. He didn't know how much he should've but he put enough.

Madeline laughed, "You probably paid more than you should."

"Keep the change!" he ignored her and called out to the waiter.

He tugged her out of the restaurant.

~~O~~

It was chilly out.

Late September, the leaves were already orange and the wind lingered.

Madeline had her arm looped in James's, both of their hands stuffed into their jacket pockets.

James was telling her a bit about himself.

"Dad really wanted me to play for the major Quidditch teams. I got invitations to PU, the Cannons and the Tornadoes. But I really didn't want to. I could only go fly around for so long. I know why Dad wanted me to, though, so at least one out of Grandpa James, him, Al and I could play professional Quidditch. But I like Aurory. Watching Dad do it for so long, it just looked really cool to me. So at least I follow him, somehow. Al's in to potioneering. Mum's okay with none of us in the League, really. She knows how bad it could be," James said as the walked along a grey brick path, right by a river, the same river that ran past Madeline's studio, a black, steel fences separating them. The trees arched over them, reds and oranges and yellows and browns slowly twirling around them, purple leaves floating down sometimes.

James had to admit it. It was beautiful.

"At least none of you ambitioned to be the next Boy-Who-Lived," she joked.

"Ha-ha," James deadpanned, he shrugged, "That's the thing about Dad. It's hard to get mad at someone who saved the world. I get why he's so touchy sometimes. After everything he's been through? You can't get mad at him too long. Maybe Mum can, but she's just really different," he laughed.

"Your whole family's adorable," she smiled.

James grimaced, "It would be nice if all of Britain didn't see how adorable we were."

She raised an eyebrow, "You're practically the voice of the Potter/Weasleys'! You're in the Prophet after almost every major event!"

James sighed, defeatedly, "Kay, I get your point. It's just nice to not be the centre of attention all the time."

She snorted, "You big headed bigot."

James stuck his tongue out.

"You're also a bloody child," she scoffed.

He unhooped his arm from hers, stopping them from walking.

She faced him, his back leaning on the black, steel fence, the river whooshing behind him.

"But you like me? Aside the bigotry, the immaturity and flat out stupidity, do you like me?" he asked, his hands that were on her shoulders before, had slid down the length of her arms and into her hands. He held them by the fingers, slowly tangling together.

Madeline stared down at their intertwined fingers, her face impossible to read. It wasn't nervous or sad, anxious or happy. She was just looking at their hands. Then she looked up at him, looking through his bright brown eyes. "Honestly, I feel like an idiot for saying this. I've never done anything like this before and I didn't know I'd end up finding… this… like this. But," she sighed, "I like you. For your bigotry, your immaturity and flat out stupidity," she quoted him.

James smiled at her.

"And… it's a bit satisfying having the most popular guy at school notice you after everything you've been through," she whispered, "You're my trophy," she made the joke in her voice notable.

James smirked at her, "I'm alright with being your trophy. I'm a great reward. Everyone wants me…"

He went on and on and Madeline couldn't help but laugh at him.

"... And who wouldn't want that in their lives right? I-"

Madeline had wrapped her arms around him, his hands got cold at the loss of her hands' warmth, the cold autumn air replacing it. Her head rested on her chest, his chin resting on it immediately, the strawberry scent of her hair floating into his senses.

He hugged her back, warmth spreading through him.

"We can date," she mumbled into him.

"That's good… for now," he mumbled into her hair.

She chuckled, "And if we fall in love…"

"Then we both lose your bloody game," he tilted her head up, so he can see her eyes.

She was smiling at him. "Are you going to kiss me now?"

He smiled down at her, "Yeah."