Bat swinging in his left hand like it was an extension of his body, Jay squinted up at the form of Rubeus Hagrid carrying his trunk, unable to help a small chuckle bubbling from his lips. The Hogwarts Gamekeeper had offered to carry Jay's broom too, but the Stonem boy had insisted on carrying it himself- unable to bear the thought of someone else touching his most prized possession. Slung over his shoulder, the custom-made Comet 370 was the one thing that Jason treasured most in life, only comparable to the way that one might love their first child.
The Prophet had declared his transfer to England that morning, and the preparations had been made for him to settle into his new school before a training session was to occur the following day.
The International Quidditch Association were to be there, in addition to his new coach, and the press of course- an entire host of witches and wizards were to gather on the Hogwarts pitch the next day to see him beat around a few bludgers. Mostly, he knew, it was to prove their money had not been a colossal waste of galleons and time- particularly since the World Cup was approaching.

He glanced up at the castle, which was bigger than Durmstrang Institute but didn't look all that homely. It was dark out, and the castle was lit up rather prettily. He could see students gathering already at the entrances and windows witnessing his arrival in an act of awe which his new head of house Severus Snape had assured him would calm down after they'd gotten used to the presence of a new celebrity.

Jay's long, black robes grazed his ankles as he walked with his back straight, taking a deep breath as they neared the entrance to the school and his gold-flecked eyes glanced over the goose-like gander of female students all excitedly trying to get a glimpse of him.
"Don't worry Stonem," Hagrid boomed down at him with a grin that set Jay immediately at ease, "This happens every time I come up to the castle!"

The crowd at the doors parted like the red sea as a blonde girl swept through. She stopped in front of them and Jay's eyes had to adjust from the entrance hall light but once they did he almost dropped his bat. It wasn't like he'd never seen a beautiful girl before, the Swedish girls who attended Durmstrang were all gorgeous but the one in front of him was perhaps the most perfect person he had ever seen.
As she insisted that as Slytherin prefect she would be the one to help him find the Common Room, his mouth dropped a little- and he tried to regain his composure. Hagrid, with a shrug, placed Jason's trunk at the girl's feet and shuffled off, wishing him all the best.

"...And you are?" she asked, tapping her heeled foot impatiently.
A small smile flitted across his features as he wondered if she really had no idea who he was.
"You don't read the Prophet then, I take it?" he chuckled, pulling his eyes away from her face and glancing up at the crowd of students which was growing by the minute, in addition to those fogging up the windows. "I suppose they put on a fan-fare like this for every new student?" he added, before tucking his bat under his right arm and extending his hand to the girl. "I'm Jay," he smiled, careful not to bring his broom too close to her as he waited for her to either shake his hand or swat it away, he wasn't sure which.

"Clara Page," she replied slowly, reaching out to shake his hand once before letting it drop, "charmed."
She stared at him with an intensity that made him uncomfortable, before glancing over her shoulder with a look of surprise like she had only just noticed the hordes of students behind her, "Oh, ignore them, they do this all the time."

Jay grinned cheekily at her reply, and before an awkward silence could fall between them, she took off. Clearly expecting him to follow, Jay shook his head and rearranged his bat and broom to reach into his expensive robes and grab his wand. "Wingardium Leviosa," he said under his breath, causing his trunk to lift itself into the air. He moved quickly after her, through the part in the crowd which she had left, his trunk floating expertly behind him.

"So, Clara Page," he drawled his mind turning her name over and over as though he were eating a toffee. His long gait caught up with her tiny stature quite easily, "I didn't realise that I was getting a guided tour, not that I'm complaining."
He briefly wondered if all the girls at Hogwarts were like this one, and let his eyes leave her frame momentarily as he glanced at the other students lining the corridors. From what he saw, he doubted it.

As if she had noticed that his eyes were no longer upon him, she turned and pulled the beater's bat out of his right hand, slipping her own arm around his and falling into step with him.
"Guided tour?" she repeated, raising an eyebrow and frowning. Staring up at him with icy blue orbs his focus was one hundred percent on her again and he barely heard her as she tutted, "Absolutely not. I'm to show you to the common room and after that I doubt we'll ever speak again."
She smiled an impossible smile and laughed tunefully, swinging his bat in a rather vicious fashion despite the angelic look on her face. He was elated to be walking arm in arm with her as they descended towards what looked like a dirty old basement, but wasn't quite quick enough to stop the flash of disappointment appearing on his face.
He turned to look at the wall in an attempt to hide it, as this happened (seemingly in slow motion for the mortified Stonem boy) his broomstick also lowered, knocking Clara on the back of her head. She was torn from his arm, and though it wasn't a violent motion, it was enough to send her forwards and off balance so that she stumbled in a less than graceful way. Despite being horrified that he'd hit a girl, albeit indirectly, and an accident, Jay couldn't stop a small laugh from erupting from his lips. Clara seemed so controlled and calculated in every gorgeous movement she made, and to see her jolt forward suddenly had struck Jay as quite humorous.

Since he did not know her at all, Jay tried to conceal his laughter, reaching out to grab her by the scruff of her robes to keep her steady. He recoiled his hand as soon as he had touched her, a scolding sensation which was incredibly peculiar to him searing through his hand. It was lucky this happened, for if he had kept hold a second longer he would've been hit by the bat she had just taken a swing with.
"What do you think you're playing at?" she snapped at him, her angelic face transforming into the most terrifying scowl. He had before never been looked at with such pure, undiluted distaste.
"Are you ok?" he stammered quickly, "I'm sorry about that, I can't imagine that I'm making the best first impression on you..."
"I'm perfect," she replied, her face returning to a blank slate and her voice now a careless drawl, "just bored."
With a smile that did not reach her eyes in the slightest, she dropped his bat to the ground with a dull thud, and brushed past him, back up the corridor.
"Common room's down there," she sang over her shoulder before her heels stopped with a tap on the stone floor and she turned to face him.
"You will never make any sort of impression on me Stonem," she stated with a flick of her blonde hair, "so stay away from me." And with that she was gone, the clicking of her heels ringing echoes until they faded completely.

With a sigh, Jay swooped down and picked up his bat, hoping that she hadn't scuffed it too much and that the next point of contact with her wasn't an invoice for a new one. He looked once at his trunk, which had come to a pause, hovering in the air as unsure as Jay where it should be going, before turning and continuing down the corridor- hoping to find the Common Room. As he walked a small smile floated onto his features as he realised he had never actually introduced himself to Clara as Jay Stonem, and that she must have known who he was all along.

That evening, settled and having been introduced to the Slytherin Quidditch team, Jay found himself feeling relaxed for the first time that day. The Common Room was lively and full of students who had taken full advantage of dinner. Jay had found people to sit with in the Great Hall for the meal, and though there had been a slight commotion as he had entered, it had passed quickly. As he had passed by Clara Page to take a seat he had heard her friends whisper "That's Jay Stonem," and her quick and disinterested reply of "Who?"

He felt that he had probably best take her advice and not even attempt to try with her, she was that far out of his league. While he had avoided her for the rest of the evening, he had managed to meet her cousin. Owen Page, the other beater for the Slytherin team as well as its captain, and himself were going to be spending a lot of time together by the looks of things.
After dinner, in the common room, he was quite happy to sit by the fire and listen to Owen's anecdotes and laugh at his jokes. After all, from the current position he was sat in he had a perfect view of the Page he was the most interested in. This interest, it seemed, was in no way reciprocated. Whenever he looked at her, she seemed fully absorbed in her magazine, and unlike the rest of the girls in her friendship group, did not have the slightest concern for him. Watching as she became involved in some boisterous episode that involved one of her friends kicking her, Owen coughed and pulled Jay's attention away. His new captain shot him a strange look, and Jay let out a nervous laugh before apologising.
"Sorry," he nodded, "you were saying?"
Owen rolled his eyes and rose to his feet, "You've got a big day tomorrow Jay, better get to bed." This was obviously intended more of an order than a suggestion, as Owen had already told him that if he wasn't impressed by Jay's performance tomorrow then he'd have no problems booting him off the team.
Jay nodded and muttered, "I'll be up in a second."

He sat and looked into the fire, trying so very hard not to look at her again but he couldn't help it.
It wasn't his fault, he convinced himself, his attention was just drawn to things happening in the periphery. It was instilled in him as a quidditch player to pay attention to things that were not right in front of him. Especially pretty blonde things.
What he found more frustrating however, and what he wondered to himself as he slipped upstairs to his dorm (eyes glued to the floor), was what on earth was the point in being an International Quidditch phenomenon, if he couldn't even impress Clara Page?

This story features Clara Page, an OC by allybz.
Their interaction was originally a RP on tumblr, so some of the words are hers :)