Hello friends. I am so so sorry for the late update! From now on it should hopefully go back to one chapter every Wednesday. To apologise you can have this mega long chapter. I'll chuck in James/Lizzie interaction too ;) Enjoy Bg.97 xx
Beep beep! Beep beep!
Lizzie groaned as she rolled over to turn off the alarm on her wand. She grabbed her glasses off the bed stand as her eyes adjusted to the light shining through her windows. Wait. Her bedroom didn't have a window on the west wall. She pulled her head up and took in her surroundings. Aah, of course. Her brain woke up and kicked into gear. She was in a hotel in Falmouth on her research weekend about the Falcons. Today was the day that she was going to interview the team, as well as it being the first time that Ginny had left her to do so by herself. She got out of bed and looked out the window. The Prophet had definitely been kind to her; Lizzie's window looked out onto the harbour, and she could see a plethora of boats coming in and out. She smiled at the sight- her dad would love this. He'd grown up in Cornwall but had moved to London for university and never moved back. Lizzie rummaged through her bag to find her phone. She took a picture and uploaded it to Facebook. Woke up to this view from my hotel window. Wow- I love my job.
Lizzie laughed at herself as she put her phone back down. She could hear her friend Clara's voice right now, "You complain about not being Wizard enough and then spend all your time acting like a muggle! You make no sense!"
In all honesty, that pretty much summed up her entire life. Growing up around only muggles, she wasn't even aware of the existence of magic. At primary school she was a good student and had a solid group of friends, but they- and herself- always knew that there was something different about her. She could remember her first experience with magic as clearly as if it were yesterday. She was 7 years old and had come back from a particularly bad day at school- she was angry. She got home and slammed the door shut, and as she did, the light switch in her corridor flickered. She didn't think anything of it until she screamed and it made the fuse blow. It was another few weeks before anything else happened- but this time her family were witnesses. Her dad fainted. Fully passed out. He was the bravest man she knew so needless to say it concerned her. Her brother had questioned her about it for hours following 'the incident' but she didn't know what to say. The day that McGonagall showed up with her Hogwarts letter was simultaneously the most shocking and relieving day of her life.
"What do you mean you're not going to Grangewood?" her best friend Jenni had challenged her.
"I was accepted into this boarding school in Scotland. They help people like me," she mumbled, trying not to cry.
"People like you? What does that mean?" her friend Tom added.
"Just... Different."
"But we love that you're different!"
"Please don't leave."
She hugged her best friends and wished them goodbye. "I'll never forget where I came from. We'll always stay in touch. I'll see you at Christmas."
Lizzie sighed as she shook off the memory. "Focus girl. You don't have time to reminisce- there's work to do."
Once she was changed and had grabbed all her stuff, she caught a taxi to the field of the training ground. You muggle. The taxi driver was obviously perturbed at having to drop someone off by an empty field, but money was money. Lizzie wandered across the field and muttered "Revelio," revealing the stadium to her eyes. Even though she had just been there the day before, she was left speechless at the enormity of it. When she entered the grounds she was met by a spritely witch named Yasmin, who she had been introduced to yesterday as the assistant of the team's manager.
"Good morning Miss Hartley, I trust you had a pleasant sleep."
Lizzie smiled politely back at her, "I did, thank you."
"Wonderful to hear! You needed it in preparation for this busy, busy day. They've all cleared their schedules today just to talk to you. The kit storage room has been rearranged and prepared for you to do seven interviews in."
"Thank you so much. Wait- seven? I thought an interview with the manager had been booked too?"
Yasmin awkwardly tucked a hair behind her ear, "Yes it has. That's included in the seven." Lizzie eyed her curiously, waiting for an explanation, "The thing is- Mr Potter insists on being interviewed this evening. Over dinner. I've been asked to tell you to go to this restaurant at 6pm."
Yasmin handed Lizzie a small notecard with a scribbled address on it. Lizzie wanted to refuse it but this was her job- she couldn't. She sighed.
"Lead the way then, we better get started with these interviews."
"So tell me: what drew you to Quidditch?"
"It's a great way to make friends at school and I just fell in love with the sport." "My family has a history with the game." "There is literally no other feeling in the world that matches that of flying."
"What do you think sets the Falcons apart as a team?"
"We're not just a team- we're a family. We all have a good balance between work and banter." "We train all year round. The most we'd ever take off training is a fortnight." "We have a fantastic manager who cares about each of our individual careers as well as a Captain who gives his all to the sport."
"How are you feeling about the approaching Euro League?"
"Pretty good. I mean, there are some absolutely incredible seekers on these teams; especially some of the Germans. It's a lot of pressure to live up to, but I think I'm up to it." "In all honesty, I'm pretty nervous- but we have done literally all we can so I'm hoping for the best." "We smashed the British League this year, what are a couple more teams to beat?"
"And your Captain- James Potter. Do you think that he has it in him to lead your team to victory?"
"Absolutely! Jay lives, sleeps and breathes Quidditch. Yes it helps that he has parents who were gifted players, but he challenges even his mother's skill." "He was born to be a leader. Yes he can let it get to his head sometimes, but he deserves to because he works harder than anybody I know." "He's a bit of a prat but his heart is in the right place." "I truly believe that James Sirius Potter is one of our generation's finest Quidditch players."
Mr Mclane, the team manager, laughed as he answered this final question. "Buying James from the Appleby Arrows was the best decision I have ever made in my career."
Lizzie's eyebrow raised at all this praise. It was heightening her expectations of tonight to say the least. She cast the charm on her quick quill to stop it transcribing, and began to pick up her things.
"Well thank you. For all your insight, and for allowing me to steal your team for the day. It's been interesting."
The older man stood up alongside her and shook her hand, "You're yet to meet Jay. I'm sure it's going to get more interesting!" he laughed as she tried to join in to hide her nerves. She just hoped he couldn't see through her.
At 6pm precisely, Lizzie apparated to La Casa di Draghi, a small Italian restaurant situated in a Wizarding part of the town by the sea. When she arrived, she looked around the room and smiled to herself at some of these Wizards attempts to wear muggle clothing. In one corner of the room she spotted him, wearing a white button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled up with dress trousers and shoes, and he was using his wand to play with the candle on the centre of the table. She looked down at her own top and jeans and couldn't help but feel underdressed. What are you going on about? This isn't a date, Lizzie, it's an interview. She took a deep breath and approached the table, coughing to make her presence known. James stopped what he was doing and stood up to greet her. He smiled, "You must be Elizabeth."
She went to correct him, but stopped herself, finding that she liked the sound of 'Elizabeth' a lot more when he said it. "Yes, that would be me, and you would be the famous James Sirius Potter, I presume?"
He laughed. "Yeah, I guess that's me." James gestured for her to sit down. Soon after, a waiter appeared next to them.
"Can I get you drinks tonight?" he asked, a quill poised above his notepad.
Before Lizzie could offer an answer, James had opened his mouth. "We'll have a bottle of white wine please. The best one you can give us, please."
"Certainly, Mr Potter."
"Do you come here often? The waiter seemed to know who you are," Lizzie asked suprised.
He shrugged in reply, "As you said just now- I'm famous. I also look too much like my dad to not get recognised."
Lizzie looked at him closely, "You've got a lot of your mum in you too. Your eyes are exactly the same."
His lips curved into a small smile. "Yeah they are. Very observant Miss Hartley. Shall we order some starters and then you can start interviewing me?"
She just nodded, still nowhere near sure of what to think of James Sirius Potter.
"Right. Where shall I begin... How did you first get into Quidditch?"
He thought for a moment, his mind flicking back to the memories. "Obviously I was always surrounded by the sport, what with Mum. I was only 3 when she stopped playing for the Harpies but she went straight into Sports Journalism, as you well know. Dad's Hogwarts days involved a lot of Quidditch too, and people would often cite the stories. The Burrow, that's my grandparents' home, has a Quidditch pitch out back, so any family event would feature a game. Then when I got to school, I began to play competitively and found that I was better at it than most things so I decided to stick at it."
Lizzie smiled at his answer as her charmed quill scribbled it down.
"How has the new position of Captain been for you?"
James leant back in his chair and crossed his hands behind his head in a casual manner. "It's an absolute honour, it really is. It's also a lot of pressure though. I care about every member of my team, but ultimately my job is to win us matches. So yeah, I'm quite tough on them but only because it's the only way to keep them motivated. I feel that I'm settling into the role pretty well."
Another answer was jotted down and Lizzie got slightly more confused. This man in front of her seemed professional and focused- little could be seen of the rambunctious flirt with drinking and pranking habits that friends and the press had whispered about.
"To be a professional athlete, you need to be physically fit. How do you maintain this?"
"As I said before, I work my team hard; so we train four days a week. I try and keep a balanced diet too. I run every morning, do toning exercises daily too. I also do a lot of... after hours exercise." His eye gleamed as he finished, making Lizzie very aware of his innuendo. She coughed awkwardly and moved on to the next question.
"What are your hopes for the next few years of your career?"
He laughed, "To be honest; I just want to have fun. I'd like to rank in the top 5 in the Europa League too. Managing to get to the top spot here in Britain was monumental, but I've got a feeling we would feel even better of it wasn't just national praise, but continent-wide. That's my hopes for the Falcons. For myself... well, I'd love to play for England in the next World Cup so I'm just working as hard as I can to get there."
As she pushed aside her finished main course, Lizzie hummed in interest as she took in his answer. "Do you mind if I ask you some personal questions now?"
He leaned in closer and Lizzie could feel his foot pressing against hers under the table. "I'd love for you to get personal with me, Elizabeth." He looked up at the arrival of a waiter. "Oh look, the sweet stuff is here"
Lizzie smiled awkwardly, trying to ignore the situation. That must be what the media meant. Just ask some questions.
"Since starting your Quidditch career seven years ago, and even before that- the media pegged you as a party animal. Do you think that this damages your reputation on the field?"
He looked momentarily shocked at her abrupt question before returning to his calm self. "Yes they have 'pegged me as a party animal' but where's the harm in me enjoying my life? I do like parties and women and booze and I do probably spend more time focusing on those things than most, but you know what? I deserve to. Look, I don't mean to sound completely up my own arse, but I'm one of the best players that this country has. If people don't want to see that but instead focus on the fact that I enjoy a good night out- they're fucking idiots. Quite frankly, I don't give a shit about what people think of me, because I'm an athlete. People should care about how good I am with a broom; not anything else." His eyes darkened. The scariest part of it all was that he had maintained his level tone and eye contact throughout. It made Lizzie shiver.
She hesitated before asking another question. "Being a professional Quidditch player is a 24/7 job. Has this made life difficult for you in any way?"
James shrugged, "Well the media already bugged me all the time anyway so it doesn't make a difference. What do you mean by difficult?"
"Umm, well you know, has it had a strain on your relationships with your friends and family?" Lizzie muttered, scared that she'd crossed a line.
"Is this in regards to those rumours about me and my brother?" Because I assure you Elizabeth, it's a load of crap. I have never threatened my brother with an unforgivable and I don't plan on doing so."
Suddenly his demeanour changed. "Can I ask you a few questions Miss Hartley?"
Lizzie nearly choked on her wine in suprise, "That's not really how this is meant to go Mr Potter."
"James." he corrected. "Or Jay- whichever you prefer. It would just be one or two questions."
Lizzie sighed but nodded her head and cut the charm on her quill, "Yeah sure, whatever."
"What house were you in at school?" he asked innocently, making Lizzie laugh.
"Ravenclaw." she thought she heard him mutter 'that figures' under his breath.
"Do you have a boyfriend?"
Her eyes widened, "No, not right now."
"Are you actually interested in Quidditch, or was this the only position at the Prophet?"
She laughed again, "Only position. I'm starting to become interested though."
He nodded, contemplating something as he scooped up the last spoon of his tiramisu. His manner changed once more as he propped himself up on his elbows and leaned forward again."
"Okay, one last thing. You may have noticed that I've been checking you out all night, because frankly- you're absolutely beautiful. Which is why I'm asking on a bit of a whim if... well, sorry to be blunt, but I want to know if you'd come home with me."
"Excuse me?" Lizzie's face flushed bright red. "I'm here on work business."
James shrugged, "You got your interview; now have some fun. My mum never has to know."
"This isn't about your mother, this is about the fact that I barely even know you!" she laughed in shock.
"What are you talking about-you just learned loads about me."
"Those are questions for a newspaper. Those aren't real, personal things! I don't know your birthday, or your favourite colour, or whether you have any allergies..."
"4th November, red, kiwi fruit. Now you know. Come home with me."
Lizzie stood up angrily and shot an aguamenti charm straight at James' face. "Thanks for dinner Mr Potter. You can read that interview in the Prophet shortly," and with that she grabbed her stuff and apparated away.
James ran his hand through his hair and sighed. "And it was going so well."
And that is actually the longest chapter I've ever written for any of my stories ever! You lucky things you! Another update in a few. Reviews make me smile! Bg. 97 xx