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beautiful chapter image by SophieScarlette

“No! I’m not wearing-“

“Yes. You are.”

“No, I’m honestly not!"

“You have to look better than Rose! I have to make sure he keeps his eyes in his sockets!”

I looked down at the outfit James has picked out of my closet. I was pretty sure I wore some of it as an inappropriate costume for an ex-boyfriend a few years back (everyone has done it, don’t give me that dirty look). The jean skirt looked like it would disappear up my butt if I didn’t keep an eye on it. The orange tank top felt two sizes too small and the black shawl that James had chosen to throw over it was so thin, I was sure I’d freeze. It didn't matter that it was late August, I'd still be cold. It didn’t help that he topped it all off with very high heels.

I looked like a stripper. Or worse: Amelia.

“I look like…like…” I couldn’t even think of a good comparison.

“Take your hair out of that ponytail.” James reached around my head and pulled my hair tie out of my hair, my black hair falling onto my shoulders. I groaned in protest. It probably was the size of Alaska at this point. I hated my hair. The rings were frizzy and the way it shone in the sun made it look greasy.It framed my face all wrong.

“James!” I cried. He smiled at me, looking very pleased with himself. I was tempted to smack the smirk off of his face.

“You look spectacular, Gigi. Going to have all the boys drooling over you. Hopefully Scorpius!” James clapped his hands in front of him, very proud of himself. “Let’s go!”

The Leaky Cauldron was a dingy kind of bar, something you would suspect of wizards in a muggle area. The bartender looked ready to cough up a lung and the people in it didn’t look much better. It was as though there was a layer of grime over the lights. I wasn't sure if the food was even edible. I think someone died, because it sure smelt like it. Wait, was that guy at the bar dead? No, he twitched; he was alive…for now.

Was Rose trying to get me and James knocked off before the date so we didn’t show up? This seemed very likely. They probably hired the whole place to intimidate us before the bartender did us off. I swore I saw half the bar eyeing me. It might be the outfit.

I think it was because they wanted to off us.

“This is your entire fault!” I hissed in James’s ear. He smirked at me.

“They’re staring because you’ve been all over our papers, love.” James whispered back. “And because you’re dressed like that.”

I felt my face flush. Was I actually a face in Britain now? The feeling made me squirm. I suppose it was what I had asked for, coming over here. I sort of wanted to be famous and be a name in England. Except, I didn't want to be remembered for being dressed like this. I was dressed like a prostitute and on a date with a teammate. Couldn’t get much worse.

“Hey guys I didn’t think—oh wow! Er…Gigi? You look…I mean.. I like your….er…necklace.” Rose mumbled, her eyes nearly popping out of their sockets. This is what I did when I looked in the mirror. I looked down at my bare chest. I wasn’t wearing a necklace.

“Thanks?”

I looked at the boy next to her and immediately grinned. Rose had good taste. The guy next to her was tall, about James’s height. He was a bit thinner, but it worked for him. He was shockingly pale, but his bright, blue eyes and bleach, blonde hair made him look very aristocratic. He had a pointed nose and amazing cheekbones. I was very envious upon inspecting them. It was pain-sakingly obvious he was a pureblood. Not that it mattered to me, but that could be why James didn't like him; I heard people in England cared about that sort of thing.

“Scorpius Malfoy.” He noticed me staring and extended his hand in a polite manner. I returned his smile and went to shake his extended hand, but James slapped my hand down.

“Ow!” I hissed at him. He didn't even glance at me.

“Gigi doesn’t touch filth,” James growled in a low voice at Scorpius. I smacked James on the back of the head as hard as I could.

“You do not speak for me, Potter.” I growled in tern. He winced, but put his arm around my waist, pulling me far too close to his chest. I felt as though I was going to suffocate in his cologne. Who the hell was he trying to impress?

“Let’s get going, shall we?” Rose said.

As we made it into Diagon Alley (apparently it was their magical market place) and to the small café we were going to eat supper at, I felt as though everyone’s eyes had fallen upon me at some point. I was never one to wear such revealing clothes and felt completely out of place. I felt like my boobs would fall out of the tank top at any time. What a way to start a reputation, hey?

Apparently I was already starting a reputation. People knew me from photos in the papers (which I don’t recall seeing) and now that I was showing myself in public, they would think I was a classic Quidditch-bimbo who had screwed her way onto the team. They would especially think this because I was on a date with James Potter.

It wasn’t even a date! I was being tactical! Tactical Gigi, I swear. I needed that center position if I wanted more than a year contract. My whole reason for coming to Britain was to play Quidditch and that was it. I didn’t have a hidden agenda. I didn’t want to be sponsored by Quidditch Weekly or Witch Weekly. I didn’t want to be going on a date with James Potter. I didn’t want to be helping Adam Freeman with his playbook. I especially didn’t want to be doing strenuous weight lifting.

But alas, here I was.

I flexed my arm slightly and smirked when the muscle flexed with it. It felt good.

James and Scorpius both jumped up to grab us drinks and to order the food. I fumbled with the bottom of my skirt, scared that the guy a few tables over could see up it. I think he could. I glanced across at Rose who was staring down at the table.

“Look, can I borrow your sweater?” I asked her, rubbing my arms. “I’m freezing and frankly very uncomfortable in what your cousin dressed me up in.”

”Oh thank Merlin!” Rose’s face lit up. She quickly took off her jacket, handing it over to me, leaving her in a green blouse. “I really thought you dressed like that for a while.”

I snorted very unattractively. “You’re kidding me, right? I’m not a stripper.” I told her. She laughed at my comment, looking very relieved and a lot more relaxed.

“Good. Now I can admire you completely, not just for your Quidditch Skills.” Rose told me. I felt my face flush with embarrassment.

It wasn’t that I hadn’t had anyone tell me I had Quidditch skill, it was just the first time that people were emphasizing on it so much. I suppose since England was more into Quidditch than America was, I would be getting more compliments here. I never considered myself a celebrity in America (it was mainly the Quad players that were stars over there), but would that be different here?

I hope not. I just loved the sport; I didn’t need to be in the spotlight so much.

“Here you are, ladies.” Scorpius said, handing me a butterbeer and placing the rest in the respective spots. James came over to the table, attempting to balance four plates in his arms. He had two resting in the upper crooks, while two were in each hand. I had to admit, I was slightly impressed. Until he dropped all four onto the floor.

“Bollocks!” James shouted.

“I really hope that one is mine.” I pointed to the only one that hadn’t landed on the floor and was somehow upright on its plate. James glared down at it before kicking it, causing the contents to spill on the floor.

“No....that was mine.” Scorpius sighed, glancing at Rose who looked ready to blow.

“Breathe, Rose.” Scorpius whispered to her. Rose took a deep breath, actually turning back to her normal pale color.

Well, I’ll be damned. When I’m angry like that, no one can calm me down. I smiled at the pair. I may not be a romantic type of person, but those two were just cute. I may not understand why James was playing the protective cousin, but even if I had a grudge against the guy, I couldn’t try to break them apart.

“I’ll help you this time.” Rose said through gritted teeth. She pushed herself away from the table a little too aggressively and stomped past James.

“If you don’t mind me saying…you’re a bloody good chaser.” I heard Scorpius say. I looked across the table to see him staring down into his glass, his face turning red.

“Thanks.” I told him, smiling.

“It’s different being around James because I’ve known him throughout school, but I feel like I’m in the presence of a celebrity, you know?” Scorpius looked up at me. I frowned.

“I wouldn’t consider myself a celebrity…yet. Just wait until the Magpie exhibition game.” I winked at him and he grinned, obviously thinking the same as me. Or I hoped. I hoped I wouldn’t make a fool of myself.

I really better not.

“So what are your intentions with Rose?” I asked, an attempt at conversation. I couldn’t hold a decent conversation ever, it was my downfall.

“I’m glad you asked and not him.” He gestured over towards James who seemed to be shouting at the cashier rather animatedly. “I like Rose a lot. She means a lot to me….but I know I won’t be accepted by her family. The Weasleys and the Malfoys don’t get along. It’s a rivalry that goes back centuries. After the war, we thought everything had changed…at least I thought it did. Rose apparently too, since she’s with me and all. People like Rose’s Dad and James and even my father are the reason why these grudges still exist when they shouldn’t.”

I remembered the War that had happened when my parents were my age. It hadn’t affected America as much as it had Britain. I remembered learning about it in History of Magic. It was why James was a little more famous than the rest of the Quidditch World.

“Well, it’s time you kiss ass then, isn’t it?” I told him, taking a sip of my butterbeer. He laughed at me and nodded in response.

“That’s why we’re here, isn’t it?” Scorpius said. I nodded in tern, watching as Rose and James came back with our plates. I immediately dug in.

“Gigi…aren’t you hot? Why don’t you take that off.” James tried. Like I didn’t know what he was doing.

“Nope, I’m fine, thanks.” I told him through a mouthful of lasagna. He frowned, his jaw immediately clenching.

“So Malfoy…kill any muggleborns lately?” James asked nonchalantly.

I spit my butterbeer across the table, covering Rose in it. She gasped, dropping her scolding hot clam chowder into her lap. She leaped back in surprise, spilling Scorpius’s butterbeer over the table. I leapt up to grab a napkin to clean the mess, but ended up elbowing James in the face. James shrieked (like a girl, might I add) and fell backwards off of his chair. I shouted so many apologies at James, kneeling down to see if he was alright.

When my skirt split wide open.

Not even subtly. There was a loud ripping noise and the fabric nearly tore all the way up.

There was silence throughout the whole café. Then suddenly, there was a flash of light.

And another.

And even another.

I glanced behind me to see a man standing with a camera and taking pictures vigorously. I’m pretty sure he even got one of my bottom. I felt my face flush as I promptly sat down on it so that I wasn’t showing my underwear to the whole café.

“Sod off!” Rose shouted at the camera man. He snickered at all of us.

“Got all I needed!” he said in a chipper voice, practically skipping out of the café. I groaned, slapping my head into my hands. To say I was embarrassed would be an understatement. I really wasn’t sure if I should cry or crawl back to America. I had a horrible feeling that my butt would on the front page of Witch Weekly come tomorrow morning.

“Let’s get you two out of here, shall we?” Scorpius said, helping James off the ground, who was now supporting a bloody nose. Rose stood behind me, blocking anyone from seeing my butt. The damage was already done, Rose.

“What the hell is this?!” Sally yelled at me. I rolled over in bed and groaned. I had been waiting for this. I had even left my door unlocked so that Sally could storm right in without knocking ridiculously at the door.

I opened one eye, seeing my red underweared-bottom staring at me. It then went from my underwear to my reddened face and James laying next to me, clutching his nose. The title red “NEW FALCON, NEW MESS?” I’m sure the article went to describe how I’m secretly a stripper and not seriously a Quidditch Player.

I moaned again, shoving the pillow over my face.

“Get that away.” I whined. Sally ripped the pillow away from my face and slapped my forehead with the magazine.

“This is not okay! Your first game is tomorrow! How do you plan to be taken seriously with something like this?!” Her voice really was annoying in the morning.

“Well, I’d hope my playing would be the answers to your prayers.” I mumbled sarcastically, forgetting sleep and pushing myself out of bed.

“Your sarcasm surely won’t save us!” Sally hissed. I stretched, feeling my back crack against the strain. It felt amazing.

“I thought this was about me. Not you.” I said, but of course it was about Sally. Everything was about Sally.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Genevieve.” I didn’t bother to correct her. It was too early for that. “I had to do some serious damage control this morning!”

“It’s nine o’clock. What damage control could you have done?” I slipped my feet into my insanely fuzzy slippers and yawned. I wasn’t ready to take Sally seriously yet. It was too early.

“Well, I got you an interview for one-“

”Sally! I hate interviews!” I wanted to climb back into bed and bury myself beneath the covers at the sound of an interview.

“Genevieve, everyone here interviews with someone before a game. At least the big names do. Do you not want to be a big name?” Sally seemed to be testing me.

“Of course I do, but-“

“Then you will go to this interview. Quidditch Weekly is still your ally. Witch Weekly posted that article about you. I’m thinking of ordering you new shorts.” Sally had pulled out her planner again and was checking things off on it.

“I thought you said you couldn’t.” I told her, grabbing a towel and walking towards my bathroom.

“I can do anything, darling.” I slammed the door so I didn’t have to respond.

“Are you confident in your team for tomorrow’s game?” Stanley Pinpike asked me. I felt uncomfortable in the large plush chair. I felt as though I should feel the opposite; this chair was built to make someone feel comfortable. I pulled myself further up on it.

“Yes, I am. I feel that we have a steady team and are in great position to take the Cup again this year.” I told him, feeling rehearsed. The quick note quill above his head scribbled down my answer. He was staring at me intently from over his glasses. I shifted under his gaze.

“And how do you feel about taking Harley Chilton’s spot? He was an amazing chaser.” Stanley asked, blinking at me for an answer. I shifted yet again.

“Yes, he was brilliant, but I feel as though I’m doing a great job at filling that hole in the team.” Stanley pursed his lips. Wrong answer.

“You are trying to say you’re doing a good job at filling his shoes?”

“Er…no, I mean…with every new…” I paused, letting out a deep sigh, trying to compose my thoughts. I could do this. Harley Chilton could have. “What I mean to say is that without one person, a team isn’t the same…it’s like whenever you get a new player, you form a new team. It’s like starting over from scratch. All the Falcons are amazing players and I’m so pleased to be among them.”

I smiled at my answer. He pursed his lips again, but didn’t bother questioning me further. I tugged on the corners of my sleeves, wanting to sink into them. I really hated interviews. I felt as though I was trying to impress someone…which technically I was. Damn it. I just hate interviews.

“So…let’s talk about that picture on the front cover of Witch Weekly, shall we?” he looked like he had been waiting a while to ask me this question.

“What about it?” I asked him, dropping my gaze to my hands. I was tempted to answer Yes, my underwear is red and no, I do not always wear granny panties like that. But I refrained.

“Do you normally wear clothing like that? You don’t seem to be right now. You were on a date with James Potter, I presume?” He threw the questions at me. I felt my face flush with nervousness. I just wanted to play Quidditch. I moaned in my head.

“Uhm…I don’t normally wear clothing like that…it was a little joke, actually…And no, I wasn’t on a date with James. His cousin just got a new boyfriend and he needed someone to tag along and scope out the guy. Nothing serious.” I smiled at my answer again. I felt accomplished for setting the record straight.

“Hmm…that’s odd.”

“Odd? How’s it odd?” I asked, watching him grab the quill and scribble out some notes. My face immediately fell.

“That’s not what James Potter said in his interview with us.” Stanley told me, now scribbling side notes on the notepad.

“What did he tell you, exactly?” I asked with raised eyebrows.I felt my heart rate speed up. This got Stanley’s attention and he looked up at me with a wide smirk. This wasn’t going to be good.

“He told me you two went on a date.” He said. I’m sure he was waiting for my facial expression to be shocked, which it completely was. I was horrified. Why in the world would James say we went out on a date?! Was he trying to send me to an early grave? I was nearly there, let me tell you.

“I can assure you that we-“ I went to sent the record straight, but saw Sally jumping up and down behind Stanley. My eyebrows furrowed together as she was making obnoxious gestures to get me to stop talking.

“What’s that, Ms. Jacobs?” Stanley asked, leaning forward with pad and quill in hand.

“I have to pee.” I told him, standing up and scurrying behind him.

“Now look, before you talk, let me explain-“ I cut her off immediately.

“What the hell is she saying about James saying we went on a date?! We did not go on a date!” I hissed at her.

That’s when I noticed the short stubby man behind her. I wouldn’t have noticed if he wasn’t so wide compared to Sally. He was supporting a bulldog-like face and a green top hat. His grin was wide upon spotting me, but it didn’t look as pleasant as I wanted it to be.

“Who are you?” I asked rudely. There was no time for pleasantries.

“He’s my manager.” James side-stepped around the stubby man. I glared fiercely at him, advancing forward. Sally stepped in front of me before I had the chance to get near him.

“Now listen to us, Genevieve!” Sally hissed.

“For the last fucking time, it’s Gigi!” I growled. She sighed, grabbing me by the forearm and taking me out of view of Stanley and his office.

“I told you I was doing damage control this morning, didn’t I?” She asked me. I took not the respond.

“Ms. Jacobs, I take blame for this.” The stubby man said. He took his hat off to reveal a balding head. I felt as though I had to be nice to him; he looked so cute. “When your and James’ picture came up in the paper, I had to do some damage control myself…”

“So he came to me. We came up with the most brilliant plan!” Sally seemed far too excited for this. James shuffled his feet nervously.

“You two just looked fantastic together on the front cover of Witch Weekly and James has been asked multiple times about the two of you-“

“To make the story short and sweet, we set it up so the two of you are fake-dating…oh don’t give me that look, Gigi, it’s not like you go on real dates anyways!” Sally hissed at me when I looked up-fronted.

I couldn’t believe this. Honestly, I couldn’t. What were we, pieces of meat? Were we here just to be flaunted around or something? Was I in some reality TV show? Was I being Punk’d? Being punk’d would be totally better than all of this.

“It’s for more publicity. The more they interview you, the more money you get. The more money you get, the more you get noticed. You want that, don’t you?” Sally asked me.

She caught me there. I needed to be noticed. If I wanted to make it onto an International team by mid-season, I had to do something to stand out. I couldn’t just be an amazing player. Even if I could, we had an extremely tough schedule and I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to play to my fullest.

“This is not a good idea. I can’t lie!” It was true, I was a horrible liar. I tried to convince my headmaster at Salem that I wasn’t the one who jinxed LeRoy Brown to sing the school’s anthem whenever he opened his mouth….I had two months worth of detention after that. One for doing it and the other for being such a horrible liar.

“Gigi?” James peeked around Sally and shot me a sheepish grin. “I know it sounds horrible and everything, but look at the plus side: you’ll get loads of more money, more publicity, people will adore you for dating me, and the more we can do to get the team attention, the better…plus, I really don’t want to look pathetic if you go telling the reporter that we didn’t have a date.”

Shit. He was right. No matter what, I needed to get noticed. No, I didn’t want more money or publicity, but I needed to get noticed. The way to get noticed was to get the team noticed. James Potter was the key to get noticed. Damn it all.

“Fine…but we break up at the end of the season!” I told him. They all smiled at one another.

“Perfect! Not too long to where people think it is serious, but not too short where they think it’s a fling!” James’s manager chimed. I glared at all of them.

I better make the International Team for this.

Author's Note: Thank you so much for the reviews! I love them. So, what do you think? Good? Bad? Horrible? Please, let me know. It really helps me with the future chapters! I have the next few chapters written of this, so no need to worry about me. Just keep reviewing and keep reading.

Also, let me know who your favorite Falcon is! Here's the list and a brief description if you need it: Gigi Jacobs-chaser-main character; James Potter-chaser-future captain; Matt Hankin-chaser-slight drinker; Adam Freeman-keeper-lady's man; Chris Piette-seeker-married-french; Barry Williams-beater-jokster; Scott Williams-beater-married-jokster

beautiful chapter image by SophieScarlette at TDA

I ran my hand over the elegant handle of my broomstick. The sticker from Quidditch Weekly was branded at the tip, but it didn’t make it any less gorgeous to me. There was not a single bristle out of place at the end of the broom. The foot hooks were perfectly in tact and shining in all their glory. I flipped my broom from hand to hand, feeling how light it was. It shook in my grip, ready to fly.

This is what Quidditch was about. Quidditch wasn’t about how many sponsors you had, how much money you had, or how famous you were. Quidditch was about a bunch of people coming together and playing the game they loved. It was about showing off on your broom and letting your heart pound to the beat of the crowd. It didn't matter what team you were on or who you were playing. The only thing that mattered was the game. The wind in your hair, the speed of your broom, and the smell of the pitch.

And it was about beating the other team. You can’t forget that.

I made sure everything was in place. I had on my lucky bra (I wore this to every single Quidditch game without fault), I had new gloves wrapped securely around my hands, my pads actually fit, and my jersey bore my own name.My hair was tied in a tight pony behind my head per regulation. The Falcon on my chest gleamed in the light from the locker rooms. I looked at my other teammates, who didn’t seem so wrapped up in this as I was.

I suppose it’s a girl thing, really.

“Let’s do this!” James said, pounding onto his locker next to mine. To say I was still mad at him would be an understatement, but things like that were put aside when you stepped out onto the pitch.Personal matters didn't come into play in professional Quidditch. I slapped his shoulder and rushed to get into the tunnel that lead out to the pitch.

“-the first exhibition game of the season!” The voice of the commentator could be heard from our tunnel. It was dark in the wide tunnel, lit only by two torches. It was supposed to calm us before a game, but it only got me nervous. I glanced at Matt, who stood next to me, and grinned. I felt my fingers tingling in anticipation and my stomach flutter with nerves.

Matt reached over and squeezed my hand. “You’ll do brilliantly. Just don’t drop the quaffle.” He added with a wink. Hell, now i'm going to drop the quaffle and make a fool of myself! Thank you, Matt.

It may only be an exhibition game, but I already knew that everyone would be watching me. I was new meat on the best team in the Quidditch League. They wanted to see if the Falcons had actually made a good choice in picking me up. Something about that didn’t sit right with me.

“And now your home team! The Falmouth Falcons!”

James took that as his cue and mounted his broom, the rest of us following his lead. Though we hadn't nominated a captain yet, I was sure he'd get the role. We all flew onto the pitch, taking a lap around for good measure and to amp up the large crowd. They were booming. This Quidditch Pitch was twice the size of the Meteorites. The crowd was quadruple the size. I was sure that we were sold out. I heard chants for everyone on the team, even for myself. James had signs asking for marriage, but they all stood together in a blur. There was a mixture of blue/white (our colors) and black/white (the Magpie's color). I could’ve sworn there was more blue/white than black/white, but I’m a bit biased.

“James-fearless-Potter leads the lap with Matthew-tackling-Hankin taking up his rear!” The commentator seemed far too enthusiastic about us. Good thing we had home field advantage. “Not far behind Hankin is the newbie and new meat, Genevieve Jacobs! She’s single, men! Oh wait, apparently not! Don’t let Potter hear me saying that!” I ignored the commentator, taking my spot in the middle of the pitch. Personal matters do not come into play of the field. He finished introducing both sides and let us all get settled into our spots.

I sized up the Magpies. They were all large and looked agile on their brooms. I had watched their tapes multiple times, so I knew who everyone was. There were a few new faces, but my guess was that they were reserves. My opposite, Nathan Davies, had a stony expression on his square face. He would be who I was facing off for the quaffle. He had missed getting it twice last year. Just twice. I felt my heart flutter at the thought of actually beating him to it. I squeezed my broomstick for luck.

There was the chant of the crowd cheering for the Falcon’s but I tuned them out, staring down at the quaffle that one of the refs was holding. Suddenly, it all got silent in my ears. I could even hear the flutter of the snitch as it was released. My heart pounded in my ears and everything suddenly got slower. I watched as the bludgers swung up into the air and the quaffle slowly floated up towards us. I itched to grab it, but waited until it began to make the decent towards the ground.

I saw Davies’ broom twitch upwards and shot for it before he could. I managed to grab it in my fingertips before Davies managed to and immediately passed it off to Matt. I felt that this wouldn't be my first accomplishment today.

“Jacobs is fast! Passes it off to Hankin, who long-passes it to Potter who passes it back to Hankin, who under-arms it to Jacobs who shoots and scores!” I smirked at the keeper who looked shocked at me making the first goal. In professional Quidditch you have to be fast to be good.

I shot off after Davies and flew below him, pulling my broom upwards sharply, kicking the quaffle out from underneath his arm. James managed to grab it as it fell and shot off towards the opposite end of the pitch. I smirked to myself at my move. Thank you Sally for providing me with tapes of Harley at his best. I'd make this team proud.

“Potter back passes it to Hankin who drop the quaffle?! Oh no wait, he was dropping it to Jacobs who dodges a bludger and shoots again and scores! That’s 20-0!” I heard the roar of the crowd and felt James slap my back.

This was going to be a good game. Center spot, you're going no where.

“Oh wow! What in the world is Jacobs doing this time?!” the commentator said with amazement as I spun in the air, avoiding a bludger to the head. “Oh she’s just brilliant!”

“Oi, quit showing off!” Matt called to me, but with just as much amusement as the commentator had. He chuckled as I looked at the score. 80-20. I had made every goal but one. 7 goals, that meant. Only six more to go. James was sticking to his deal, so I wasn't as resentfult towards him as I should be. Matt wasn't much of a shooter, more of a tackler.

“Keep feinting, Piette! I need this center position!” I called as I flew past Chris. Chris had his eyes narrowed, but nodded nonetheless. I laughed boisterously at him. I felt like I was on Cloud nine, but better. I was literally in the clouds.

James was about to pass the quaffle from me, but received an unexpected bludger to his side. He dropped it and his opposite received it. I growled, shooting off towards his opposite. “What are you doing?!” James called after me, but I didn’t respond.

I swept by him, punching the quaffle from behind. He wasn’t ready and let it out of his grip. I cringed, knowing I'd have a sprained knuckle from that one. This had to be my best game, though. I needed to prove myself for this team. Matt grabbed it and immediately passed it back to me. I took off down the pitch, eyes narrowed. I needed this center spot, damn the Magpies if they would take it away from me. I felt a shove at my side and saw Davies. I shot off course and watched as their keeper caught it.

The Magpies were good, I’ll give them that. I’m pretty sure they even had their reserve team beaters brought up for the game (their real beaters were getting up their in age, anyways). Davies was something that I had to keep an eye out for. He seemed ruthless, ready to knock me off my broom if necessary (this was the exhibitions, it wasn’t that bad if he lost!).

“The snitch has been spotted! Piette and Henkelburg are going after it!” the commentator shouted. I counted mentally in my head how many shots I had made.

11. Damn it.

“Matt, here!” I shouted. Matt didn’t protest as he shot a bullet to me. I tucked it under my arm and dodged around Davies.

“Over here, Jacobs!” James shouted towards me.

“Hoops!” I shouted back. He immediately smirked at me, shooting behind the hoops. I passed to Matt who passed it immediately back to me. I shot it through the left hoop, to which James caught on the opposite side. He threw it back to me in a swift motion and I kicked it into the middle hoop.

The crowd irrupted with cheers. The commentator shouted about how brilliant it was. The only thing that I registered was the look on the keeper’s face when I had managed to kick it in.

“And Piette has the snitch! The Falcon’s win!”

Nothing felt better. Absolutely nothing.

“Ms. Jacobs! Ms. Jacobs!” I walked out of the locker room after popping a bottle of champagne and having a good celebration to what seemed like thousands of reporters flashing their lights in my eyes. I was nearly blinded by it, but I couldn’t erase the big grin off of my face.

“How does it feel, Ms. Jacobs?” I heard a reporter ask, but I wasn’t sure who.

“I feel amazing of course. I couldn’t have asked for a better game!” I shouted my answer, receiving more flashing lights and more answers shouted at me.

I felt a hand around my waist and glanced up to see James smiling at me. I almost forgot about the whole boyfriend/girlfriend thing. I suppressed a shutter at his arm around my waist and forced a wider smile up at him. He seemed to grimace back at me. Good, at least I wasn’t the only one feeling so uncomfortable with our situation.

“Are you two in item?” I heard a reporter ask. James was staring at me now, not breaking my eye contact. I could see the pleading in his eyes as he was begging me to answer this correctly. For his sake and mine.

“Yes.” I chirped. My voice was insanely high and out of pitch, but they all bought it, scribbling down things and flashing more unnecessary pictures. James’ grin widened and he pulled me tighter to his side.

“We do have to get some rest. What a game, huh?” he began to push us through the crowd.

“-And then you were like “no bitch Davies, that’s mine!” and snatched it right out of his hands!” Fred called, jumping around on James’s couch vigorously. We were all laughing at him acting out my moves for the last hour and a half. It was quite funny, actually. He was pretty spot on with most of them, being that he wasn’t in the air and didn’t have a broom.

“And then you kicked it! You bloody kicked it into the goal posts! That keeper’s face was priceless!” He even mocked the look on the keeper’s face. I laughed so hard I had a stitch in my side.

“I’m heading off, mates. Great first game, Gigi!” Chris called. The rest seemed to follow suit and start disappearing. Suddenly, it was only me, James, and Fred in the room. I flexed my sore hand and smirked at James and Fred.

“So…are you two really dating? Because I’m really sorry that I shagged her, mate.” Fred asked, laying himself out onto the ground. I shared a look with James.

“It's a publicity stunt, mate.” James said, leaning back on his couch with a yawn.

“Does that mean I can shag her again?” Fred asked, perking up like a dog.

“No.” I answered. He flopped back down onto the couch. “I’m going to get going, too The best need rest.”

“Okay, see you later, babe.” James called as I neared the door. I froze and turned towards him.

“No pet names or I’ll cut off your tongue.”

I was seriously regretting this.

“There is something seriously wrong with this picture.” I said aloud as I opened my flat door. Chris was lying outside of it, wrapped in a blanket and his head tucked under his pillow. I stared down at him, not sure if I should wake him or not. I nudged him slightly with my foot to which he stirred to.

“Oh, hi Gigi.” He mumbled, stretching on the floor. I raised an eyebrow at him.

“Mind me asking what you’re doing outside my flat?” I asked him. He looked around before standing up and gathering his blanket and pillow.

“Mind if I come in?” he asked, staring down at his feet. This couldn’t be good. I stepped aside, gesturing for him to come in.

He immediately curled up on my couch, much like a small girl would if she were still sleepy. He wrapped his blanket around him, a frown creasing his normally perfect complexion. Chris was the only blonde on the team, rivaling that of Scorpius’s hair. He was tan, being that he was out in the sun with us a fair amount of time. His pale grey eyes looked like they were holding back tears.

“What’s up, Chris?” I asked him, sitting in the arm chair opposite the couch. He pouted slightly, obviously debating how to word it.

“Meme kicked me out.” Chris finally said. Meme was his wife, someone who I had only met once, but had easily grown on me. She has blonde hair like Chris that flowed down her back. She was thin (everyone was thin around here) and looked like she was part veela. I wouldn’t be surprised if she was.

“Why’d she do that?” I asked him tentatively. If there was one thing I knew, it was that Meme was incredibly nice. Meme was too nice. She had baked me dozens of cookies and had promised me that she’d share all her recipes with me. Like I cooked. Ha.

“Because!” Chris whined. I swore I saw a tear slip down his face, but when I blinked, it was gone.

“Well, that’s a good reason.” I mumbled, receiving a glare. I threw my arms up in the air in frustration. “You obviously came to my flat for a reason, so spill it!”

“She wants children. She’s wanted them since we got married two years ago. I’m just not ready yet. If I have children, Quidditch isn’t really an option. I can’t travel all over the world and not see them. I would need to be a good father and being away like that I couldn’t.”

I opened my mouth, but closed it. I wasn’t good at giving advice. I really wasn’t. I had told my sister to shag a guy to get over her ex breaking up with her. This caused her to get pregnant. I had never had the whole “love” situation either, so I wasn’t sure if I should say “forget her, go shag someone!” or “you should quit Quidditch and become a Father for Meme.” I was stuck between a rock and a hard place.

“Well…er… you really don’t want my advice, Chris.” I told him, frowning upon this realization. He looked up at me and smiled.

“You’ve never been in love, have you?” Chris asked. I nodded, very sheepish. I felt stupid. I was twenty-one and had never been in love. How pathetic am I? I’m going to die a lonely ex-Quidditch Player. Alone.

Alone was the key part there.

“Don’t worry, Gigi. You’ll find someone.” Chris told me. Something told me he didn’t come here to comfort me.

“Have you tried telling her why you don’t want kids yet?” I asked him. He looked at me like I was stupid.

“Of course not! She’d tell me I’m picking Quidditch over her!” he shrieked. I sighed, rubbing a hand over my face.

“No, she won’t. Women are understanding. Out of all the woman I know, she’d be the most understanding. This is Meme we’re talking about, not the Queen of England.” I told him. He frowned, shaking his head at me.

“That won’t work, I know it.”

“Why don’t you try it?” I asked. He stared at me for what seemed like a minute, not blinking.

“It won’t work!” he shrieked, burying his had in my couch in angst.

“Then why’d you come to me?” I asked him.

“Well…you’re a girl! I thought..oh I don’t know! I couldn’t very well go to the other teammates. They would’ve laughed at me.” Chris whined. I really hate being the only girl on the team.

“Okay…get your ass off my couch. Now.” Chris looked at me confused, but stood up.

“Now go apologize to Meme and explain it to her. If it doesn’t work, I’ll let you sleep on my couch for the rest of your life.”

“Fine. I’m keeping my blanket here to prove to you that it won’t work!” Chris said, stomping out of my flat.

I sighed, falling back onto my sofa. What in the world had I gotten myself in to when I signed myself to the Falcons? It sure as hell wasn’t to be a local therapist to these players. How the hell were they the best players, anyways? They had more troubles than the Harpies combined. The Harpies were drama with a capital D.

I just wanted to play bloody Quidditch. Was that too much to ask?

Obviously. Merlin was out to get me. He didn’t put any pity on me for being new to England and the only girl on an all boys Quidditch team.

“Give me sexy!” flash “Give me pouty!” flash flash “Give me something other than that grimace, Gigi!”

I sighed, throwing my arms up in frustration. I didn’t know how to make these different faces! The flash really was hurting my eyes. How was I supposed to look moderately attractive when all I could see was way too many bright lights in my eyes? I couldn’t, that’s what. It was frustrating me to no end….and was obviously frustrating the photographer.

“Get the lights out of her eyes!” Sally hissed to the photographer.

“They are needed!” he hissed back. I shuffled on the white carpet. Everything was just too bright.

“Can we just carry on, please?” I asked them both. Each gave the other a very seething glare before turning back to me. I balanced my elbow on my broom as instructed and narrowed my eyes at the camera.

“Let’s get the rest of the team in here, shall we?”

I sighed in content. Each of us had gone through our own shoots, getting pictures for what would be posted all around our stadium. Banners would be put up of us in these pictures all throughout England. It was a very intimidating to even think about it (I chose to try not to). I still wasn’t used to all of this. It was the middle of September now and we were almost done with all of our exhibition games. We had won all of them but one (we had thrown in all of our reservs that game). I had managed to keep my center spot much to Coach's dismay.

“Chasers first, yes?” he commanded the rest of the team away, leaving James and Matt on either side of me. He instructed them both to place their arms on my shoulders.

“Ouch, don’t dig your arm into my shoulder!” I hissed at Matt. This made him dig his arm into me harder. I blinked as a flash burned my eyes.

“You blinked, Gigi…again.” The photographer said, groaning for the umpteenth time. Whoops.

Things were getting out of hand. When I say out of hand, I really mean it. The photographer seemed to think our team was as attractive as Witch Weekly had stated. He took to making all the boys take off their shirts. He even had his make-up artist rub dirt and oil on their bodies. Was this necessary? Absolutely not. Not that I was complaining, but this was a bit ridiculous. When would we be taking off our shirts on the pitch and rolling around in dirt and oil? Never.

“Let’s pull these shorts up a bit, Gigi.” The make-up artist said to me, pursing her purple lips. She came towards me and I backed up immediately.

“I don’t think so. How does this look like a respectable Quidditch team? Isn’t that what we are?” I looked to the half-naked boys behind me. Adam looked very proud of himself, puffing out his chest, poking Chris’s abdomen. The two got into a small fight over this. The twins were pretending to kiss their muscles at each other. James was rocking on the soles of his feet, telling Matt he had more muscle than him. James received a noogie for this.

“You’re an attractive team, Ms. Jacobs. You all appeal to your fans!” the photographer was snapping a few pictures of the guys behind me, who seemed to not even notice it. I blinked against the flash again.

“Come on, Gigi! We all want to see that arse!” Adam called, giving Chris a quick jab in the stomach as Chris doubled over.

“I’ll hold him back!” Matt fake-shouted, grabbing onto James’s shoulders as though James was jumping towards Adam. James shot Matt a weird look.

“Why would I attack him?” James asked, pushing Matt off of his shoulders.

“I wouldn’t let someone say that about Meme.” Chris said, finally straightening up and sending Adam a dirty look.

“But-“ James’s eyes bulged in realization. My “boyfriend” really was thick. Glory day. “OH! Right! Err…Adam? I’ll kill you.”

That was all? Really, that’s the only thing he had to say? He even was rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly at his own comment. How pathetic could one bloke get? James had struck me as the type to make clever comments and be a protective boyfriend….Sally had really screwed me over on this one.

“Talk to your girlfriend, Potter. I have a date tonight to get to!” Barry demanded, stomping his foot like a child. James sighed, coming forward and dragging me away from the group

“Just do it, Gigi.” James whispered. I immediately shook my head, barely listening to his words.

“I’m not a piece of meat. Neither are any of you!” I told him, smacking his bare chest. He didn’t even flinch. Maybe I needed more weight lifting.

“Why’d you join this team, Gigi?” James asked, crossing his arms. Did he have some hidden agenda that I wasn’t aware of?

“To play Quidditch?” I answered, not sure if it was the answer he was looking for.

“With the best, correct?” I nodded in response. “Gigi, you want to be famous.”

“That’s not it!” I protested. It couldn’t be it. I wanted to be among the best. I wanted to play the best game I could. Maybe that meant being famous, but that wasn’t what I had intended.

“Then what is it, Gigi? You’re here now; you’re famous now, what more do you need?” James was cornering me. I frowned at him, crossing my own arms.

“I just…I…I don’t know,” I sighed in defeat.

“Just give these photographers what they want. It’ll give your fans what they want too.” James told me. I frowned at him, but knew that he was right. Why did these Brits always have to be right?

“James, I just really don’t want to do this.” I whispered to him.

“Why? Because I look better? Don’t feel bad, I look better than all these blokes here.” James’s infamous smirk appeared on his face. I snorted very unattractively at him. Sure, he was gorgeous, but that big head was not.

“Yeah right. I’d wipe the floor with all the drool that would be on the floor if they got a look at my body.” I mocked his cockiness. He raised his eyebrows, making it obvious that he was eyeing me up.

“Prove it.”

And that’s all it took. I was standing there in extremely short-shorts, a sports bra, oil over my body, and my hair wild and free. The boys were cheering me on as I posed in front of the camera in very promiscuous positions. Oh Merlin, please don’t let Grandma see these photos. Please let them get erased when they meet her poor, old eyes. She would not be proud of me in the least. I smirked at James. I was attractive and he knew it. I beat him.

“Get off of there, I’ll show you off.” James said. I laughed at him, but got down off of the stool. He hopped up onto it, smirking as the make up artist rubbed fresh oil onto his eight pack (it really looked like there was that many). He began to pose rather seductively in front of the photographer. He flexed his muscles, a “v” very prominent leading below his waistline. I’m pretty sure I was drooling. My eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. Hell, I was sure the makeup artist was drooling and I was positive I had seen a wedding ring on her thin fingers.

“Well, I’ll be damned.” A girl’s voice rang from the entrance of the studio. We all turned to see Rose Weasley making her way towards us, a large smirk on her face.

“Hello Gigi.” Rose greeted me, eyeing my own attire. “Are you sure this isn’t your normal attire?”

I glanced down at my glistening stomach and frowned. Why was it that every time I saw Rose, she saw me in barely any clothing? I blame this on James. Everything is his fault. I opened my mouth, but upon realizing I couldn’t think of anything, I closed it right away and shrugged. James snickered, jumping down from the stool and grabbing Rose around the neck, giving her a noogie.

“Don’t give her a hard time, Rosey! She’s my girlfriend, afterall.” James smirked at me, releasing Rose from his grip. He was obviously getting too much joy out of this.

“Speaking of which…I just came from Uncle Harry’s.” Rose grimaced slightly, shooting James an apologetic look. James immediately paled, his face losing all signs of joy.

“What’d my parents say?” James asked, shifting his weight nervously. I felt as though I should turn away and ignore their conversation. I went to do that, but Rose grabbed my arm, keeping me in their triangle.

“They want to meet Gigi.” I froze upon these words. Me? Why?

“Why?” James echoed my thoughts. I nodded along with him.

“You haven’t had a real girlfriend in years, James! Of course they want to meet her! They’re really disappointed they had to hear about your relationship through the papers. I mean honestly-“ Rose went on, flinging her arms around and smacking James a few times. I immediately went to twirling the ends of my hair in a nervous habit.

What the hell was I going to do? Harry and Ginny Potter wanted to meet me? Me? Would they be able to tell that James and I were faking it? Of course they were, they were his parents! They’d see right through me. Then they’d go to the press and say how stupid and ridiculous I was and then I’d be the laughing stock of Quidditch. The Falcons would drop me because the Potters said something bad about me. I’d have to move back in with my parents and become a hermit in their basement.

“I don’t think that’s necessary.” James said through clenched teeth.

“Hey, don’t blame me. I’m just the messenger. They’re supposed to be “surprising” you tonight.” Rose said, putting up her hands innocently. James immediately froze next to me, seemingly not breathing. I waved a hand in front of his face, but he didn’t move.

“I think we lost him.” I whispered to Rose. James’s eyes immediately snapped over towards me, but it didn’t seem he was looking at me. He was winding through his thoughts.

“We need to leave.” He grabbed my hand, dragging me away.

“Where?!” I asked, managing to grab my shirt that I had discarded earlier on the way towards the door.

“They aren’t catching us off guard. We’re going to look prepared.” He apparated without warning, gripping my hand way too tight.

Author's Note: Comments? Ideas? Concern? I love to hear them all! We're at chapter 5 already! Time is flying by. How'd you like the Quidditch match? Let me know please!

So who's ready for the next chapter? We will be meeting the Potters! You'll also learn a lot more about Gigi and where she came from and all of that. Should be interesting! Until next time, loves.

Amazing chapter image by RoxiMalfoy of TDA

“I look fine!” I whined at James. This felt like deja vu. James probably had a better fashion sense then I did. I wouldn’t doubt it. I glanced at him, noting his white button up with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, the dark jeans hung loosely around his hips, but fit him perfectly, and his white tennis shoes even looked good. His hair was messy, but I don’t think he ever tried to train that. It was like he had come out of the womb looking like that.

“You look like you’re not trying hard enough!” James whined back. I was pretty sure he would stomp his shoe if I didn’t change. He was a child, really.

What was wrong with my attire? I had a pair of black flip flops on, with a pair of fitted jeans. I had let James pick out my blue blouse with a large belt around my middle. My make up was still done up from the photo shoot and my hair was as well. I hadn’t figured out a spell that would clean me up fast enough, so we let it be. It wasn’t too bad, my hair actually looked very nice. Well, at least I didn’t look like a stripper this time.

”Do you want me to go put on a dress or something?” I asked him sarcastically. I rolled my eyes, trying to rub a bit of the eyeliner off of my eyes. I didn’t want to look like a raccoon.

“That’s actually a good idea! Have a summer dress or something?” James asked, turning towards me with bright eyes.

“No!” I yelled at him. He frowned, starting to bite at his cuticles as he eyed me up disapprovingly.

“My father works for the ministry. Have you gotten any fines?” he asked me in a rush. I sighed, putting a hand on his shoulder. He relaxed slightly, but his eyes darted around his apartment. He had been cleaning it for the last hour.

“Calm down, Potter.” I told him. He let out a deep sigh. Good enough for me. “They’ll love me. We have our story set. We’ve been dating for about a month. It’s nothing serious that they should be expecting marriage or children. You took me out for a drink after our first practice and we hit it off from there.”

“How many brothers do you have? Three?” James asked, stepping around me and straightening the Quidditch award hanging on the wall. I groaned. He wasn’t doing so well at remembering things about me. He had already messed up my parent’s names.

“I don’t have any brothers. I have two sisters.” I corrected him with clenched teeth. He spun around, his eyes searching his apartment.

“And you have a niece.” He added. I rubbed my temples. He was already giving me a headache and his family wasn’t even here yet. I can’t imagine what’s going to happen then.

“A nephew.” I hissed. He nodded again, though I was sure he wouldn’t remember it when his family came here.

“You remember things about my family?” James asked, peering out the window. He was going crazy. I was sure they would apparate in, not walk in from the street below.

“Course I do.” He raised his eyebrows at me. I sighed, remembering all he had told me. I was actually surprisingly good at remembering details. “Lily, who I’ve met and loves me, is 19. She’s an intern at Quidditch Weekly. Albus, who I’ve also met, is twenty and works in the Department of Mysteries. Your mother, Ginny Potter, was formerly a Holyhead Harpie, so don’t say anything bad about them. Your father is the Head Auror at the Ministry. I shouldn’t open my mouth unless addressed directly.”

“Perfect!” he grinned at me. I shook my head, straightening the blouse. His doorbell chimed three times. I assumed he was going to answer it, but when I turned around, he was frozen on spot, his face just as pale as when he found out they were coming in the first place.

“Want me to get it?” I asked him.

“No! That’ll look like you’re super comfortable here and that we are serious!” he cried, running towards the door. He yanked it open, smiling at the four in front of him. “Family! Hello!”

I snorted, coming up next to him. “What a surprise!” I added. Lily’s smile widened upon seeing me. Her bright green eyes sparkled as she pushed her way past James and into his flat. Albus slowly followed her in, giving James a clap on the back. James even buckled forward a bit in shock. Was he going to be a pansy the whole time or just the beginning?

“We know Rose told you we were coming.” Lily called from the living room.

“Come on in then.” James’s voice sounded choked as he moved aside and let his parents in. It was the first time I got a good look at them and I felt extremely intimidated. Harry Potter was standing in front of me. I tried not to feel this way, but you don’t come to England and not know about Harry Potter. He was older than the pictures I was used to seeing, but still had the untamed black hair (though there wasn’t a lot of it), the big rimmed glasses, and the shockingly emerald eyes. He had obvious wrinkles in his face, but it just made him look more mature than anything. He was still wearing his suit from work.

“This must be Gigi!” Ginny Potter said, smiling at me. She was absolutely stunning. Her long red hair was tied behind her head in a neat pony. She was wearing a pair of dress pants and a green blouse. She wasn’t wearing any touch of make up to hide her age marks. She smiled at me, coming forward and wrapping her arms around me in a hug.

”Ginny, don’t kill the girl!” Mr. Potter laughed from behind. I awkwardly returned the hug, my cheeks feeling hot. Mrs. Potter let me go, beaming down at me.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I have just heard so much about you and I couldn’t wait to meet you! It isn’t every day our little Jamsie has a girlfriend and keeps her!” Mrs. Potter reached over and pinched James’s cheek. His face started to turn red as I tried to hide my laughter behind the back of my hand. James glared at me, then at his mother.

“Women.” Mr. Potter said, shaking his head.

“Look! A replay of your match against the All-Stars is on!” Lily called from the couch. We all went in to see the television zoom in on my face as one of their chasers fouled me with an elbow to the face. You could see me mouth the word ‘fuck’. I cringed as James gasped from next to me. He shot me a very disapproving look.

“Quidditch brings out that language, love.” Mr. Potter said, smiling at me. I shifted awkwardly, nodding my head.

“Yeah, we watched re-runs of Mum back in the day. She had a colorful language!” Albus added, snickering with Lily. James was frozen to his spot.

“Someone has to put the blokes in place out of the pitch! You don’t grow up with six brothers and not know a few good words.” Mrs. Potter defended, receiving a chuckle from Mr. Potter.

“Right, Gigi’s a very colourful vocabulary! You’ll get along fabulously with her, Mum!” James pipped. I groaned, nudging him as subtly as I could.

“James, I don’t think that’s what your Mum wants to hear.” I mumbled, rubbing the back of my neck awkwardly.

“Why don’t Gigi and I fix something up for supper? I can show you this amazing recipe my mother showed me.” Mrs. Potter grabbed me by the arm and brought me into the kitchen before I could protest.

Surprisingly, Mrs. Potter wasn’t as high-matienence as I assumed. She was actually very laid back. She insisted I called her Ginny, not Mrs. Potter. She wasn’t resentful the Harpies let her go when she found out she was pregnant with James; she wanted to be a stay-at-home mom for a long time. She hated it when people asked her for her autograph, she didn’t see herself as famous. Ginny would always love Quidditch, but her family was far more important.

I did as she instructed and began to chop up the vegetables she put in front of me. We joked, laughed, and even made fun of James. Ginny even told me a fair few stories that I would be using against James in the future. Eventually, she had me sautéing the vegetables without magic. I think I found my angel.

“So, as a mother, I have to ask.” Ginny wiped her hands on a washcloth and turned towards me. “What are your intentions with my son? How serious are the two of you?”

I nervously chuckled at her. I had a feeling this would come up. She had obviously warmed me up for this question. She thought that she would catch me off guard. Too bad James had warned me of this specifically. I stared down at my hands, remembering how I was supposed to respond to her question.

“Well…we just started dating a month ago. It really isn’t all too serious. Quidditch comes first.” I answered her. I glanced up at her to see she had pursed her lips at me.

“You’re perfect for him, you know that?” She chuckled, shaking her head as she opened the oven, peeking in at the lasagna.

“What do you mean?” I asked her. I couldn’t be perfect for her son. This was all fake. I suddenly felt extremely guilty for lying to Ginny. I sort of felt guilty for lying to everyone.

“You two are so dedicated to the game….I don’t think you’d put anything before it.” Ginny answered me, turning on the faucet and washing her hands.

“That’s not true.” I said awkwardly, shifting my weight. I didn’t want to sound like such a Quidditch freak. I really wasn’t!

“I don’t mean to offend you, Gigi. You just came all the way from America and left your family behind.” How did she know that? “You graduated top of your class and went on to play Quidditch- you could’ve done anything.” How the hell did she know that as well? “Now you’re all the way in England and dating my Quidditch obsessed son. I’m actually surprised you two noticed each other through all your practices and quaffles.”

“How’d you know all of that? About me graduating top of class and my family.” I asked her, watching as a sheepish smile appeared on her gorgeous face.

“Harry looked you up when we found out the two of you were dating. James hasn’t had a girlfriend in quite some time, so we were very curious, as you can imagine.” Ginny looked a little guilty for doing this, but James had warned me of this as well. I felt way too prepared.

“It’s alright. You’re protective of your son, I get that.” I told her, washing my hands in the sink. I felt a pang of guilt stab at me.

“James? Come set your table! Just because we cooked it doesn’t mean we’re doing all the work!” Ginny called into the living room. She winked at me, taking the lasagna out of the oven.

James crossed into the kitchen with cautious steps. He was eyeing his mother curiously, and then looking at my smiling face. He had obviously expected me in tears or something of the sort. I’m actually fairly sure I suspected that too. Mrs. Potter- I mean Ginny- could probably cause me to break down into hysterics with just one look. That woman was intimidating. Needless to say, she loved me. I think.

Mr. Potter followed slowly behind James, kissing the side of Ginny’s head affectionately. James cringed like a small kid does when they see their parents kiss. James began to pull various plates down as Mr. Potter dug around for silverware. They both began to set the table, talking idly to one another. I could see James’s stiff back the whole time. He was obviously very uncomfortable around his father. I’d have to ask him about it later.

“So Gigi…” Mr. Potter started. I turned towards him to see him trying to act casual as he set the table. I felt my heart rate speed up.

“Yes, sir?” I asked, stepping over and placing some wine glasses on the table. He seemed to be staring at me for a second, contemplating how to go about starting to question me.

“Where are you from?” He asked casually. Ginny smiled at me, shaking her head. He obviously knew, but was trying to make it seem like he didn’t.

“Wisconsin.” I answered. He nodded his head, pretending to be interested.

“What’s it like there?” He sat down at the dinner table. Lily and Albus came into the room, taking a set as well.

“Well…” I started, placing the vegetables on the table and sitting down. “It’s mostly muggles. Cheese. Dairy farms. Wisconsinites love their muggle sports and all.”

“What kind of muggle sports?” Albus asked, perking up in his seat. I recalled James saying Albus was very interested in muggles.

“Football---err American football. Baseball. The works.” I commented, taking some vegetables and putting them on my plate. I knew my fair share about muggle sports, since both my parents were half-bloods.

“What’s a football? A ball that goes on your foot? That sounds like a pointless sport.” Lily said. I smirked to myself.

“What’s your family like?” Ginny asked, ignoring her daughter’s comment.

“I’ve got two older sisters. Both my parents are half bloods, so I know a little bit of both worlds.” I explained. James shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

“How’d you two meet?” Lily interjected. I glanced at James who stuffed his mouth full of lasagna in order not to answer. Wasn’t his whole idea to have me not talk?

“Go ahead, honey. Tell them.” I said, using a nickname we had both agreed on not using. I saw his jaw tighten as he swallowed.

“Well…er…” suddenly, he smirked at me. Not a good sign. “Gigi was all over me at the team bonding session we had when she first arrived. Couldn’t get enough of me, really-“

“That’s hardly what happened.” I interjected.

“Oh really?”

“Yes, really,”

“Then what happened, dear?”

When we first met, I shagged your cousin. You set me up for it though, as initiation. We aren’t really dating, we’re faking it so that the team gets more publicity. Horrible, I know, but I need to be seen by the Quidditch League if I want to make the International Team by mid-season.

“James had his eye on me since I arrived, I was sure of it….” I started. This was going to be horrible.

“I need a fire whiskey!” James whined, falling onto his couch.

“I need something stronger than that.” I told him with a huff, collapsing into an arm chair. He peered at me curiously.

“Did you really make your Quidditch team your first year at Salem’s?” James asked. I nodded my head, proud of this fact. It wasn’t exactly something you could stick on a resume, but a big ego-booster.

“Mind you, Quidditch isn’t a big sport in the States. It wasn’t all too hard to get on the team.” I’m lying, it was extremely hard to get on their team as a first year, but I fought through the bludger to the side and impressed the captain. I may be cocky in my head, but I’m extremely modest when I open my mouth. A trait I learned from my grandmother.

“Merlin, Gigi. I think we’re going to have to get married sooner or later. My family loves you.” James joked, getting up and crossing over towards his bar where he kept the obscene amounts of alcohol.

“You act like marrying me would be such a horrible thing,” I joked in return, watching him down two shots.

“I need this,” he protested. “You do too.”

I didn’t protest back. He was right, I did need it. I needed to forget that I had just lied to the greatest wizard of the century. I had to forget that I had left my whole family in the States. I had to forget that I was looked at as a Barbie in the wizarding world. I had to fucking forget that I was supposed to be this guy’s girlfriend. This is ridiculous. I just had to forget.

The fire whiskeys started to mix together. There were shots, mixed drinks, and way too much alcohol. It was an off weekend, so we didn’t have to worry about hang-overs affecting our playing. We drank like there was no tomorrow. To us, there really wasn’t. I wasn’t sure what James was trying to forget, but I wasn’t going to protest. If you’re from where I’m from, drinking is your middle name. Though it seems that drinking puts me in bad situations.

“Get off the counter, Potter!” I shouted, downing the rest of my fire whiskey. Is it bad if you can’t even feel it burning your throat? Probably.

“No! It’s my counter, I can do as I please with it!” James shouted back at me, attempting to stand on his counter. He looked ready to topple off of it any second. Oh wait, there he goes. I burst into a fit of giggles.

“Bloody counter. It’s slippery, I tell you!” James tried to convince me as he attempted to push himself off of the floor. He failed horribly. “Well, the floor is just as comfortable.”

I went to move forward when my feet pulled out from underneath me. Did he try to trip me?! The bastard. My butt hurt! I heard his laughter with the hum of the alcohol in my ears. The room was spinning, but it looked pretty amazing. I attempted to crawl towards James, but ended up falling over onto my side. This made him laugh harder. I snuggled into a ball. He was right, this floor was comfortable!

“Should we shag on the floor, Gigi?” James slurred, coming towards me and nuzzling his face into the crook of my neck. I felt a shiver run down my spine.

“What’s shagging?” I asked. I had gotten the just of it, having been in England for about a month, but no one had ever told me straight up. I was a curious bee. I buzzed under my breath. I’d make a good bee.

“I can show you better than I can explain.” James said in a husk voice. Damn, he was attractive. Whatever this shagging was, I wouldn’t mind doing a bit of it with him.

Pull yourself together, Gigi! You can’t be that drunk!

Oh, but I am.

Suddenly, James was a lot closer than I had anticipated in the first place. When did he make it right in front of my face? Did he really have these many freckles across his cheeks? Were his eyes always this smoldering green? Was he always this fucking gorgeous? Oh hell, he’s too attractive for his own good. Is he getting closer to my face or is it the alcohol.

Before I knew what was going on, James’s soft lips were crashed against my own. I could taste the alcohol on our tongues as they mixed, but that didn’t seem to matter. He tangled his hand in my hair while the other pushed him on top of me, running down the length of my hip. He bit my lip, sending a shiver down my spine. If Grandma were here, she’d tell me I was going to hell.

James tugged my top over my head. The blouse was way too tight, but he managed to get it off successfully. A total turn-on. I unbuttoned his shirt hastily, listening to him moan as my hands roamed up his bare chest. Hungrily, he started kissing my collar bone. I rolled over, to which he didn’t protest, so that I was on top of James. He smirked against my lips as he unbuttoned my pants and pulled them as hard as he could to get them off.

“Shagging” on James Potter’s kitchen floor. Classy.

Author's Note: Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear! Didn't see that one coming, did you? I thought I'd spring a little something something into the mess to jumble things up a bit. Thought it might be a little more interesting.

So what do you think?! Did I portray Ginny and Harry Potter well? Is it worth a review? Did Gigi seriously just shag James on his kitchen floor? That seems a little bit odd, doesn't it? She's just working her way through the Weasley/Potters. Next is Albus (only kidding). I'm slowly adding chapter images, so if you would like, go take a peek at earlier chapters!

Something smelt absolutely delicious. By now, I was used to waking up to James and Matt’s cooking, but it was never this good. It was like the cooking gods had come down and made me a fantastic hangover breakfast. When I’m hungover, I do the exact opposite of most hung over people: I eat. I’m not sure why, but it always settled my stomach.

I rolled over, waiting for James and Matt to come wake me up per usual. Except when I rolled over, there was a strange smell in the pillow. The comforter made a strange noise, too. The sheets were rougher than what I was used to. Something about my bed felt really really strange. That’s when I took the opportunity to actually open my eyes. I came to the realization that this wasn’t my bed. I sat up a little too fast, feeling my head spin. I grabbed onto the bedpost to steady the jumble that was my brain. I looked around and suddenly, the night’s events flooded my mind.

Way too much alcohol. James Potter. A lot of James Potter. Tangling of limbs. Kissing. The kitchen floor. Clothes in a pile off to the side. James Potter’s ten-pack (was that even possible?). His fingers tangling with my hair. My fingernails digging lightly into his shoulder. His moan against my neck. My moan in his ear.

Was I being too graphic? Good. I want to disgust you. That’s how I felt right now, too.

Should I feel ashamed? Should I feel as though I did something horrible? I really should. This was horrible. I had just done the dirty with a teammate. A teammate who’s supposed to be my boyfriend. Did that justify it just a little? Not really, considering he was a fake boyfriend. When had I actually had a real boyfriend anyways? Months? Years?

In all honesty, I didn’t like to think about it. Ever since I graduated Salem, I had vowed to leave that life behind me in every way possible. I was made a fool of and was looked at like a moron by all fellow classmates. I was lucky to make it out of there alive. I was lucky that I had even gotten onto a professional team.

I pushed the though from my mind as fast as I could. I was an adult now. I didn’t dwell on the past, I needed to focus on where I was right now. Where I was now was what was important. As horrible as it may be. And it was pretty horrible. I ran a hand over my face, trying to wipe some sense into me. I went to run a hand through my hair, but was met with a knotted mess.

Most of all, I found I was still stark naked. I wrapped a sheet around my body, trying to comb my fingers through my hair to make it look mildly presentable. I failed miserably. I moaned in protest, but pushed myself off of James’s rather soft bed. I didn’t recall how I made it there, but was rather fascinated in how I sunk right into the sheets. I let myself follow my nose into the kitchen.

I peeked around the corner, seeing James whistling to himself in front of the stove, cooking. He was already in his practicing uniform. I peered at the clock above the stove to see I was supposed to be at practice in an hour. I wondered if I could sneak out unnoticed by James. I could see my clothes sitting on the counter, folded rather neatly. I was just trying to avoid an awkward situation, but needless to say, I really couldn’t.

But you know me, I did try. I tried very hard to be as sneaky and quiet as I could. The large sheet caught itself beneath my feet and I went toppling over. Not only did I make a loud crashing noise and an “OOMPH!” noise as I hit the ground, the sheet was no longer covering me, leaving me in a naked heap on James’s floor. He turned, his eyes getting large as he noticed the awkward position my body was in (I’m sure he noticed my nakedness too).

I quickly rolled the blankt around me as James rushed forward to help me off the ground. There were a lot of “Are you alright?” and “I’m fine!” shouts coming from each of us. James managed to help me up to my feet, the sheet slipping a bit. I quickly pushed around James, gathering my clothes into my arms. James rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, trying to find appropriate words. I was trying as well, but failing.

“I should get going.” I told him, not looking him in the eyes.

“But I made breakfast.” James said, but he didn’t seem all too concerned that I was leaving. He turned back towards the stove, turning it off. I felt weird, standing in the same spot we had had sex in the night before.

“We’ve got practice in an hour and I’m not exactly prepared.” I added a nervous laugh at the end for effect, but it made it even more awkward. James tried his own little chuckle, but that didn’t work either.

“See you later, then?” James asked, though he knew very well that he would be seeing me in less than an hour. I nodded and ran from his apartment as fast as I could.

I sighed once I was on the other side of the door, still wrapped in his sheet. I’d return that to him later, so that no one would find out what happened during practice. James and I could still do this, right? We were adults. We could handle this like adults. We’d be in the clear. Especially since no body knew what happened last night but me and James. That’s the way it was going to be kept.

“What the bloody hell are you doing, Gigi?” I heard. I looked to my right and saw Matt standing there, his eyebrows raised and his arms crossed. I looked down at my body, the sheet still wrapped securely around me.

“I can’t lie my way out of this one, can I?” I tried hopefully. Matt shook his head, awaiting my response. “Oh come on! Two guesses what happened last night.”

“You shagged James, yes?” Matt asked as though he was asking about the weather or our next game.

“I wouldn’t call it-“

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Matt said enthusiastically, clapping his hands together. He grinned at me, clapping me on the back.

“It’s not what it looks like!” I protested. Well, it really wasn’t. It wasn’t like we were dating and just had a casual, relationship rumble. No, it was bigger than that. Much bigger.

“Gigi, you can shag your boyfriend. There’s nothing wrong with that.” Matt said with a shrug. I moved out of his way, letting him go to open James’s door.

“What if he isn’t my boyfriend?” I asked him. I wasn’t sure what made me compelled to tell him. Maybe it was because out of all the people on the team, Matt was one of the people on the team that I felt I could confide in (it used to be James, as well). As weird as it sounds, chasers have to have a bond to be a good team. The chasers are at the center of the team. They get the most press, they get the most game time, and they get the most fans. Chasers are a machine. I was a machine with Matt and James.

“Did you two break up?” Matt asked. I sighed, shaking my head. “So what’s the problem?”

“We never dated.” I told him. He turned towards me and away from the door.

“What do you mean?” He asked, furrowing his eyebrows. I noticed his eyebrows were rather big, but didn’t comment on it.

“It was all fake, Matt. It was a publicity stunt.” I told him in a hushed tone, as though James was on the other side of the door listening in.

“So you shagged him on your own accord?” Matt proceeded to act as though nothing had happened.

“Yes—I mean no!” I felt my face flush with embarrassment. “Just please don’t tell anyone, okay?”

“Secret’s safe, Gigi.” Matt said, pretending to zip his lip. I noted his smirk as I turned and rushed into my own apartment.

“Just because you did well in exhibitions doesn’t mean that I’m going to let up on you, Jacobs!” Coach Smithson barked as I rounded my third lap. I was breathing extremely hard. Apparently Coach thought that I was throwing up because I was pregnant. Claimed I would run off my pregnancy if it was the last thing he did.

“I’m not pregnant!” I hissed at him as I ran past.

“You sure? You’re looking a little chunky!” Coach yelled. I stopped dead in my tracks, gasping loudly.

“I am not!” I shouted at him, turning and glaring at him. If there’s one thing that really irritates me it is when people call me fat in any way. I am not fat!

“Then keep bloody running!” He shouted. I turned with a huff, continuing around the pitch. I wasn’t fat!

I threw my shoulder back, shooting the ball towards Matt. We shot down the pitch, all moving in sync. I felt the air push through my hair and laughed a little as Matt shot the quaffle past Adam. Adam got a mouthful from Coach. Hey, at least it wasn’t me this time. That was until I received a pass from James and dropped it. I received a good yelling at. As much as I’d like to say I wasn’t affected by what happened between James and I was affected. Whenever I looked at him, I could feel his hands grazing over my bare skin.

It was a little disturbing that I liked it. A little too much.

“What are you doing, Jacobs?!” I heard Coach bark at me. Okay, so maybe it was the fifth time all practice that I dropped a pass from James. I might have made a few horrible passes to him as well. I felt his lips on mine every time I went to throw it to him.

“Coach, maybe we should call it a day. It’s getting dark.” Chris tried. He was right, the lights in the stadium were already going on, leaving an ominous glow cast over the stadium.

“Fine. Be back early tomorrow! We have our first match in just a week!” Coach barked as we all landed, way too exhausted. I rushed to the locker rooms to avoid the questions the team would surely grill me with if they remembered. I had just begun to change when the boys came in, shouting questions at James. I was used to the boys seeing me in my underwear, so I wasn’t all too worried about the comments. I’d gotten used to them.

“Did you shag yet?”

“Did you break up?”

”Can I shag her?”

“If they broke up, I get to shag her!”

“No, me!”

“Shove off!” James shouted at the boys, glaring at each of them. He turned towards me, his face flushing red. I tugged a green wife beater over my head to hide the sweat dripping from my chest. Swoob-boob sweat. I began to pull my hair up into a ponytail when there was an audible gasp. They were all staring at me, godsmacked.

“What?” I asked, looking at myself. I didn’t see what they were all gasping at.

“Oh Gigi,” Adam tisked, coming over and slapping my neck. I squeaked, slapping him around the head in tern. “What’s that?!”

I turned towards a mirror and that’s when I saw it. I large, very purple hickey on my neck. I hadn’t noticed it was there when I had gotten ready this morning. I had even left my hair down during practice, so no one had seen it until now. I gasped myself upon seeing it. It was huge and very ugly. I turned, glaring in James’s direction. I was lucky I lived so far away from my family and that they couldn’t see this. The media was going to have a field day. I pulled my hair out of its pony, letting it fall over my shoulders.

“It was from one of the quaffle passes I missed.” I told them all. Barry was smirking at me from his spot leaning against the wall.

“And I’m the Minister of Magic.” Barry added, rolling his eyes.

“Do you want me to bow or something?” I asked him, grabbing my bag and slinging it over my shoulder.

“Gigi and James, sitting in a treeee! S-H-A-G-G-I-NG!” Adam sang, clasping James on the shoulder. James’s face just got as red as Rose’s hair. He huffed something angrily, changing just as quickly as I had.

“Those are too many letters,” Chris told Adam. Adam’s face went blank as I was sure he tried to mentally count the letters.

“She’s my girlfriend, so what does it matter if we shag or not?” James asked the rest of the team. I felt my face grow hot as I made my way towards the exit.

“So you shagged her?” Adam asked.

“I thought we already went over that, Adam.” I said, leaving the locker rooms.

“Alright, so I’ve got the tickets sent to your family; they should be here in a few days. I’ve set up a hotel for them as well. You’ve got an interview set up next Friday and a shoot next Thursday. Do not forget the Quidditch Opening Banquet -“ Sally ranted off. She normally reminded me the day before events that something was going on. Most times, she even picked out my clothing….just because I had a horrible fashion sense.

“Just get out!” I heard a shout from the hallway. Sally frowned at the door as though they could see her disapproval.

“Just ignore that, Gigi. We need to get you ready for your first game!” Sally went back to telling me about the week’s schedule, but I had already tuned her out.

“I’m just trying to help you!” Someone shouted back at the first voice.

“I don’t need your help!” The first voice shouted. I recognized the voice as James’s. I got up and opened the door a crack. Peeking out, I saw James standing in his doorway, absolutely fuming. His face was contorted in so much anger, I didn’t believe it was even him. He was glaring at his father who looked almost as angry as James did.

“You’re just being stubborn.” Mr. Potter hissed, lowering his voice. Neither of them noticed I was watching.

“And you’re being big-headed. Wonder where I got it from.” James said sarcastically. Mr. Potter sighed, shaking his head at James.

“She’s a wonderful girl, you know.” Mr. Potter said, his voice losing the mean tone. James was still glaring.

“I’m aware.” He said, still defensive.

“So it wouldn’t kill you to actually be serious about her!” Mr. Potter was heating up again.

“I wasn’t aware it was your business.”

“It is when it concerns my children.”

“I’m just fine, thank you,”

“Albus is getting engaged and Lily has been dating the same bloke for two years. It’s time for you to settle down, too.”

“I’m not taking Grandma’s bloody ring!” James hissed. Mr. Potter sighed, pocketing whatever was in his head.

“Well, consider it, James. Your mother and I would like to see you married before we die, you know.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” James said sarcastically. With a pop, Mr. Potter was gone. I pushed the door open further, revealing myself to James. James took to punching viciously at the wall, leaving a very big hole in it. I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to do.

“James?” I tried. James quickly turned towards me, his eyes on fire. I saw him start to relax as he sighed, rubbing his eyes.

“How much of that did you hear?” He asked me, but I could tell he already knew the answer.

“All of it.” I answered truthfully. He groaned, easing down the wall to his bottom. I eased down the wall on the opposite side of the hallway.

“He just-“ he sighed, running a hand through his hair and making it messier than usual, “-he thinks I need to settle down and start a family. I don’t need a bloody family, you know? I’m twenty-two, not thirty-two! He acts as though I’ve done nothing with my life! I’m a bloody Quidditch star! There’s absolutely nothing wrong with that, right?”

“No there’s not.” I answered him. Why did parents always find the need to push their children into marriage and to have kids? My mother had already been questioning me about my life here and if I had found a “potential husband”. I wanted to play Quidditch, was that too much to ask?

“I think you’re the only person who understands, Gigi,” James mumbled, kicking angrily at the ground. He brought his knees up, resting his elbows on them.

“It’s because I can relate,” I told him. He glanced at me with a quizzical look. “My mom is just like that. Sent me a letter asking if I found a potential husband.”

James’s face cracked into a grin at this. “So did you tell them about me, then?” He asked, a smirk forming on his face. I was glad he was in a better mood and that we weren’t as awkward, but I still sent him a glare.

“You’d be the last person I’d be telling my parents about when speaking of potential husbands,” I told him. His laughter rang through the hallway and I let a smile fall easily to my face.

“So you’d tell them about Freddie?” He asked.

“Hell no!” I barked. James doubled over in laughter. James had that contagious laugh that you had to laugh along with. I found myself laughing as well, for whatever reason it was.

As the laughter died down, James was in a much better mood. He even repaired the hole he had made in the wall. James ruffled his hair with a sigh, now on his feet. I followed suit, running a hand over the spot on the wall where the hole used to be. Magic can do some amazing things. Where was it when I was trying to cover up burning Mom’s favorite quilt? It would’ve been very helpful.

“So, when am I going to meet them?” James asked, leaning against the wall in a ‘yes, I am cool’ way. I frowned, crossing my arms.

“Meet who?” I asked him.

“Your family. I’m your boyfriend, remember?” James reminded me. Oh, fuck. I sort of forgot about that small detail. We’re utterly screwed.

They’re watching you. I had to remind myself. I’d forget if I didn’t. There wasn’t just a couple thousand watching. There had to be about a million. I saw another flash nearly blind me. Families at home were watching. Little girls wanted to be just like me. Little did they know they were picking the wrong idol. I was not someone they should model themselves after. I didn’t even want to be me.

I plastered a fake smile on my face as I walked just behind James onto the pitch. I wanted to kick him as hard as I could behind his knees and watch him fall to the ground, but I resisted. I was a professional and those two things couldn’t mix. I wouldn’t allow them to. If there’s one thing I’ve learned over the years as a Quidditch player, you’re not supposed to mix business with pleasure. Which I technically already did. Damn it.

The crowd was deafening. The chants were so mixed that I couldn’t tell if we had more fans or not. During the pre-season, we had always filled up the house, but it seemed that there were more people here today. Was that possible? I thought we sold out every pre-season game? I suppose the Vultures brought their own fan base as well. Probably sold off our fans. They did play pretty dirty, afterall. I wouldn’t be surprised if they went to all extremes.

I was still mad. I was still pissed. Yet that smile was not coming off of my face. I would still walk the same amount of steps behind James effing Potter. No one would know the difference. I was a strong, independent woman. I was definitely not a slag. I’d show that good for nothing jerk off. Aimee could have him for all I cared. Let the damn press find him cheating on me. At least I’d look like the innocent victim. James Potter can go die in a hole.

A very deep hole so that no one knows where he went so they can’t save him. He’ll die painfully and slowly.

Is that a little too narcissistic? Good.

I’m glad you feel my insanity now.

I felt my knuckles burning and my legs itching to fly. I wanted to get up in the air and away from the arrogant prick that I was forced to stand next to for a full minute and listen to the common regulations and listen to the referees ramble about safety and whatnot. Who honestly gives a rat’s ass if we get a fine for knocking someone off their broom? They probably deserved it. I know every time I knocked someone off their broom that 10,000 galleon fine was totally worth it.

Would I get in trouble for knocking my own teammate off their broom? Probably. I’d get far too many questions.

I vaguely watched as James reached forward and shook Igor Krum’s hand. They grimaced at one another. Igor pulled James towards him, smirking towards me and whispered something in his ear. James’s face paled and he pulled away. James’s face froze as he turned towards me. He looked back at Igor who was still smirking at me. I blinked a few times. I was too angry to comprehend anything, or honestly care much about it.

I swung my leg angrily over my broom, staring at the burley looking chaser opposite me. An easy win, if I’m being honest. I don’t think I’ve ever been beaten by someone his size. I went to size up the way he was holding his broom down to the way his feet dug into the grass when I felt James’s hot breath on my neck. I felt goosebumps shimmy their way up my back.

“Be careful, Gigi. They’re out for you,” I heard him whisper. I faultered, glancing at him for a split second and that ruined it. Everyone was already pushing off the ground and I was still planted with my feet at all the wrong angles.

I pushed off with a grunt, but was too late to the quaffle. One of the other chasers had it tucked under his arms and was already flying down the pitch. I took off, falling a bit behind the rest of the group. The commentator made a comment about how I fell behind. Thanks, I really didn’t know I was already sucking. I didn’t have to look at Coach to know he was shouting profanities at me. I feinted around a bludger, watching as James tried to take the ball from the other chaser, but was feinted.

They shot and scored.

“What the hell are you doing, Jacobs?!” Adam yelled towards me. I clenched my jaw, preferring not to respond. I received his pass and flew down the pitch in formation. I passed to Matt. Matt passed it to James. James passed it to Matt. Matt passed it back to me. I ducked underneath another bludger. James got knocked off path by another chaser. I took the shot and made it.

That is really how simple Quidditch is. You don’t have to make it complicated.

“Are you ever going to pass it to James?” Matt asked, flying past me as he went into defense. I smirked at him, shaking my head. We could still do extremely well if I didn’t pass it to James. I could hold a small grudge. Matt shook his head at me.

That’s when I felt a bludger crash right into my side with way too much force. I winced as I heard the crowd gasp at the resounding cracking noise it had made against my ribcage. I groaned to myself, placing a hand on my ribs out of habit. I felt like they were going to fall out of my side. I went to continue to fly down the pitch, but everyone was so far in front of me. They shot again.

And scored.

I was going to get chewed out, I was sure of it.

Speak of the devil, the whistle blew, signaling a time-out. I groaned to myself, flying down to ground level. Coach Smithson’s face was beat red. He was glaring right at me. I felt the glare burn into my side. I winced, grabbing onto my ribs and bending over slightly. Matt patted me on the back, grimacing with me. Coach looked down at my hand grabbing my side, frowning.

“How does it feel?” He asked me. I clenched my jaw. I didn’t want to be babied.

“Like a scratch,” I mumbled.

“Good. Then get your damn head in the game, Jacobs! Don’t make me pull you because I will in a heart beat! You don’t deserve to be on my pitch with the way you’re playing!” He shouted at me. I grimaced as his voice rattled my ears. I could stand the shouting of the crowd and the commentator’s booming voice, but I couldn’t stand his shouting.

“I think a healer needs to look at her,” James said. I glared at him as he was staring at my ribs. I dropped my hand from them to make it look like I wasn’t in that much pain, even if I really was.

“I’m fine,” I growled at him.

“You’re not. I heard that from down the pitch.”

“Good thing you’re not my Coach.”

“But I am your captain.”

“And an arrogant dick of one at that!”

“Enough both of you!” Coach Smithson cut in. He studied me for a while before sighing, running a hand over his face nervously.

“What do you think we should do, Coach?” Chris asked.

“We let her play,” Coach said simply. I smirked triumphantly to myself. I could see James was visibly upset about this, but he couldn’t say anything. Coach overruled captain.

I mounted my broom, zipping back up into the air. My side did hurt, but it didn’t matter. I would have to suck it up. The crowd and the other team wouldn’t see me in pain. You had to be strong, even if it killed you. Sometimes it did. Rarely, but sometimes. I think the last death on the pitch was a few decades ago. But who’s to say my luck wasn’t about to turn around. I think I had used it all up at this point.

I lowered my body against my broom to speed up. I needed it to go faster. I willed it with my mind (yes it does work sometimes). I was right on my opposite’s tail. I inched forward as he had the ball tucked under his arm. I went to punch it out when I felt something slam into my side again. The crack was louder than before. The crowd gasped louder. I even gasped louder this time. I started to fall sideways off my broom, but somehow managed to catch my balance before I slipped any more.

God damn it. They really were out to get me.

“Another shot made by Robbins and that makes it 30 to 10, Vultures up!” the commentator boomed over the pitch. I gritted my teeth.

Ribs broken or not, I was still going to do this. I’d be damned if I lost my center position because of some mediocre team like the Vultures. I don’t think they made it into the playoffs last year. No way would I ever imagine them winning the Cup. I imagine Krum would be the only one who would make the international team this year. I tucked the quaffle under my arm as Matt passed it to me, zooming as far as I could down the pitch.

“Hankin gets the quaffle. Long passes it to Potter. Potter passes it to Jacobs-“ I grunted at the force behind his throw. “-Jacobs dodges another quaffle- I swear they are out for her today!- then passes it back to Potter-“ I watched James cringe as it hit him right in the chest. Good. “-Potter winds up and makes it! 30 to 20!”

“Where the fuck are you two?!” I screamed towards Scott and Barry as I swerved off course again from a well aimed bludger. Scott slammed at a bludger, aiming it towards the Vulture’s beaters.

“Trying to protect everyone, Jacobs! Not just you!” Scott shouted back. I scowled, taking off after my opposite.

The sweat was eating away at my face. Did it have to be so freaking hot and humid? Did they really not come up with a spell yet to keep me cool while I play? I swore I’d have to get a new lucky bra at this rate. I’d turn it into a puddle with me. Even with my hair tied back and everything pushed out of my face I still felt as though I needed to peel a layer off of my cheeks. I had sweat marks all over my jersey. It was like I was a cloud and I was raining on the pitch.

The rest of the team was no better. Matter of fact, I think I had it the best. Chris looked like he was in a shower. Barry looked like he was going to slip right off of his broom. Matt was dropping the quaffle because his hands were so sweaty. It seeped through his gloves for Merlin’s sake. Scott had actually dropped his bat by accident. Good thing it hit the other chaser. Bad thing it cost us a penalty shot.

This game was not going our way, however. I glanced at the scoreboard. 160 to 120. We were losing. James was throwing it far too hard for my liking. It kept crashing into my pained ribcage. Matt dropped everything I threw to him. What was the worst, however, was that I had gotten hit by a bludger six times. Was that a record? I had dodged about double that. That had to be a record too. At least I wasn’t making too much of a fool of myself. I was ready to kill the rest of the team, but that was nothing new.

I managed to kick the ball away from my opposite. He was getting pissed at me. James caught it below him, swooping up and taking off down the pitch. I turned, following after James. I was exhausted. We were two hours into the game and I had the thought of forfeiting. Where was Chris? Where was the other seeker for Merlin’s sake? Did I have to find the damn snitch myself? I caught the ball, ducking underneath a bludger. Grunting as I wound back and shot it in. I smirked to myself. Fine, I play this whole damn game myself if I have to.

I heard the gasp before I felt the pain. I even heard a few scattered screams. My whole body went numb. My head suddenly felt heavy as a searing pain shot through my skull. I felt my body slip off of the broom and I felt the wind whip at my body. I flipped every which way. I closed my eyes, waiting for the pain to take over and to let me fall into unconsciousness. But the fall didn’t happen. The pain was still there and I was still slightly conscious. I felt something slam into me, but it wasn’t the ground. I opened an eye to see James looking at me, face full of worry as he studied my face.

“You’re going to be okay, Gigi. I promise.” He whispered to me. I was going to be okay. I closed my eyes and smiled as I let unconsciousness sweep over me.

“I’ll kill them!” I heard someone shout. I wanted to squint my eyes shut tighter. I was tired. Way too tired. I just wanted to sleep but this prick was keeping me up.

“Maybe you should step outside, Mr. Potter,” A calm voice said.

“I’m not leaving. I told her she’d be okay and I’ll damn well make sure she is!” James yelled again. I heard a few people shuffle around.

“If I didn’t know any better I’d assume you were her real boyfriend,” I heard another woman’s voice mumble. I recognized it to be Jenny’s voice.

“Is Auntie Gigi going to die?” I heard Carter’s small voice. I wanted to move, but I couldn’t.

“No honey, of course not. She’s just sleeping,” I heard my mother whisper in a soft voice.

“AUNTIE GIGI!” Carter shrieked at the top of his lungs. I wanted to cringe, but I couldn’t. My body wouldn’t let me move.

“Carter, you have to let her sleep! She just played a tough game,” Jenny told her son.

“It couldn’t have been that tough. They won,” Carter said in a condescending tone. I wanted to sigh in relief. At least we had won. That’s al that mattered. Well, I suppose it mattered if I was conscious or not, but I was still thinking. That counted for something.

“She got hit in the head,” I heard Gabby’s soft voice.

“It could’ve been a lot worse,” Ethan said, “James caught her. She could be dead.”

“She would’ve done the same,” James mumbled in embarrassment. Would I do the same? Honestly, I probably wouldn’t be able to support his weight and we’d both go down. It’s the thought that counts, I guess. I’d probably have to make sure Matt watched for that kind of thing.

“How’s she doing?” An unfamiliar voice asked, closing the door.

“Still unconscious,” My father answered. He didn’t talk much, so I was shocked to hear his voice. My hand twitched a little bit. I wanted to reach out to my father, but that is about as far as I got.

“She’ll wake up on her own time. Visiting hours are almost over. We will call you once she wakes up, I assure you,” The man (who I was assuming was a healer) said. There was a bit of shuffling and some mumbling between the people who were in the room as people seemingly filed out.

“Do you mind if I stay for a bit longer?” James asked. The healer sighed, obviously having an internal debate. Let the Quidditch star break rules or be strict.

“I can give you an extra ten minutes,” He said before clicking the door behind him. I heard James sigh and the scrape of a chair as it was scooted closer to me. I felt him wrap his fingers around my hand.

“Gigi, I’m sorry,” He whispered, probably hoping I wouldn’t hear it. “I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. Any of it. The dating, the press, and definitely not this last game.You didn’t deserve any of it. You’ve probably heard this before, but you deserve better than that.”

I had heard it before. From the mouth of the one person I’d hope to never hear it from.

“I shouldn’t have put you in this situation. All you wanted to do was play Quidditch and I messed that up,” James sighed again. He was drawing circles on the back of my hand.

The sad part was that I didn’t blame James. Sure I blamed him for the fake dating and all of that, but I didn’t blame him for the fact that I was in this hospital bed. I blamed myself. I was supposed to be a Quidditch player. I was supposed to be able to dodge well aimed bludgers, not get smacked by them every time I turned around. Sure, the beaters are supposed to protect me, but I’m supposed to be better than that. I thought I was better than that. Apparently not.

My hand twitched in James’s grasp and he jumped a little. I had the urge to laugh. James was like a little girl some times, I swear.

“Gigi?” He asked. I started to feel my limbs limber up. I felt control to start to come back. Only just. When I didn’t respond, James sighed and let the chair scrape against the ground again. I mentally cringed at the noise. “I’ll see you later, love.”

I wanted to say something, to say anything, but I couldn’t find my voice. He was leaving. I’d be alone. If there was one fear I had, it was strange places. I hated doctors more than anything. I hated them treating me like I was stupid and didn’t know anything. I wanted James to stay. I needed James to stay. I managed to blink open my eyes. I was blinded by the lights, but that didn’t matter. I saw James leaving, almost to the door. The only noise I managed to make was a small groan, but he sure as hell heard it.

Turning, James’s whole face lit up upon meeting my eyes. He sprinted right to my bedside, nearly falling into bed with me. He surveyed my face, noting the pained expression. Suddenly all of the pain I had felt at the Quidditch pitch came rushing back. I grunted, trying to move slightly, but James shook his head, holding my shoulder down which seered with blinding pain.

“Don’t move. Let me get a doctor,” James said, kissing my forehead before running out. He glanced back at me, but only for a brief second as to make sure I was still there.

I cringed as I watched the game footage. Another bludger to my ribs. I could still feel it like it was embedded there. There was barely a flash of pain across my face on the television. I felt a surge of pride for myself. At least people thought I was tough. As I tucked the quaffle under my arm and shot down the pitch, the camera flashed to our coach who was red in the face, screaming at the refs to do something. I was surprised he actually stood up for me.

“That was a nice shot,” James commented, taking a potato chip out of the bag and eating it. I watched him as he stared at the game with interest. Even though he was in it, I don’t think he minded watching it again and again. I looked back at the screen to see another bludger hit my leg this time.

“That one wasn’t too bad,” I told James. I glanced at him to see him frowning at the screen. I shifted on my hospital bed so that I could see his face. He was sitting right next to my bed in a very uncomfortable chair (which he reminded me constantly). His legs were propped up on my bed and food was laying everywhere.

“Do you ever think about him?” James asked bluntly. I blinked at him a few times, clearing my head.

“About who?” I asked. James turned towards me, a very serious expression on his face.

“Your ex. Tyler Gates,” I actually liked the way he spit the name out of his mouth. Sounded good.

“No.” I lied. Of course I thought of the asshole. Who wouldn’t think of their ex-fiance?

“You do,” James said, more to himself than to me, “You know we have to play them eventually, right?”

I hadn’t thought of that. I hadn’t even thought about the possibility of ever bumping into him again. Britain was my haven away from all of that. Granted he moved to Europe as well, but I hadn’t even come under the assumption that we would see each other. Ever. I didn’t want to. Maybe I’d be sick that game or be injured or something. By the looks of it, teams were out to get me anyways.

“I-I hadn’t thought about that,” I mumbled. James sat up straighter in his chair, kicking his feet off my bed. I avoided his gaze.

“Gigi?” He asked, ducking his head so that he could see my face. “Tell me what he did.”

In all honesty, I wanted to tell James what he did. I wanted to tell the whole world what he did. I wanted to scream and rant and cry because I didn’t want to be as strong as this. I wanted to throw a fit and let James go punch Tyler’s face in. I wanted everyone to be mad at him. I wanted the world to hate him the way I did. I needed to tell James, just to simply get it off my chest and to feel better.

“No. I can’t tell you,” I said to my palms. James sighed, grabbing for my hand and squeezing it.

“Gigi, you can tell me,” He pressed. I closed my eyes shut tight.

“I can’t tell you, James,” I whispered. I didn’t want the memories back. I couldn’t have them back.

“Why?” He asked, his tone icy. I opened my eyes, narrowing them on James.

“Because I can’t. Stop asking, James.” I hissed. He dropped my hand, sighing as he ran his now free hand through his hair.

“Fine. But when you’re ready to talk about it, know I’m here,” James grumbled, staring back at the television with a new found temper. I sighed, leaning back on my pillows. I probably would never be ready to relive Tyler Gates.

Author's Note: SO WHAT DO YOU THINK?! Gigi and James getting closer, huh? Gigi getting aimed for? How shady, right? Tyler Gates Tyler Gates Tyler Gates. Don't you want to know more about him? You'll find out more soon, I promise. He gets more involved in the next chapters. Anyways, I hope you enjoyed this. Shout out to my new beta, Ravenclaw_FTW I really really appreciate her doing all of this for me. Until next time, loves.

I smiled at the wiz television. Seven and Zero were written right beneath “Falcons soaring high!”. Flashing on the screen were some of our best plays this season. I saw me loop around a bludger. I saw Barry swing unbelievably hard at a bludger. Chris caught the snitch. James punched the air after another victory. Matt smiled and smacked Adam’s shoulder as we walked out onto the pitch. James kissed my cheek as we were being watched. I didn’t even look like it was unnatural.

I pulled my hair into a tight ponytail and started to pull my shoes on. It was an early Saturday in mid-October. Britain was actually pretty cold in October, but not too cold where I couldn’t go for a nice jog. No, I’m not a big fan of running, but Coach keeps calling me fat or something that is equally as diminishing. I’ll eventually prove him wrong, I suppose. Sooner or later.

If the stairs weren’t a big enough work out, it seemed that the streets were even worse. I had to swerve in and out of people and avoid small children racing around their parents. I slowed to a stop. This wasn’t exactly my best idea. A jog at 10 in the morning wasn’t a good plan. Maybe I should make my “early” earlier. I wouldn’t have this problem if I woke up at six in the morning and went for a jog. The life of a Quidditch player does start pretty late, though.

I looked around, taking in my surroundings. As in the ice cream shop that had just opened for the day. I sighed, debating if I could go in or not. Skinny Gigi could wait another day. Choco-moco ice cream couldn’t. The bell above the shop door jingled as I walked in. The store may have just opened, but the smell was absolutely to die for. It smelt like baked goods and fresh frosting. I sighed in content. Time to be a muggle for a little.

“Hi, how can I help you?” The young girl behind the counter asked. I felt like a kid in a candy store as I peered into the glass with multiple ice cream gallons in it.

“The choco-moco, please?” I requested. She nodded, grabbing a small bowl and scooping the ice cream into it. I grinned at her as she handed it to me and I handed her some money. She shook her head at me.

“It’s on me. It’s not every day a national Quidditch star comes into our little shop,” she said with a wide grin. I cringed slightly but forced a smile onto my face. So much for turning into a muggle for a little while.

I took a table in the far corner of the small shop. If this was really a wizarding neighborhood, I wasn’t going to be seen. I was just going to enjoy my ice cream by myself and not let anything distract me. The Falcons were seven and zero. I was making a name for myself. Things were finally falling into place and I couldn’t be happier with it all. I was finally living my dream and boy did it feel good.

But you know what always happens when you’re happy, right? Everything always wants to come crashing down. Everything will shatter at your feet. You can feel like you’re on cloud nine but then one tiny thing will happen and you will fall straight back into reality. Reality is real. Reality is right in front of you. My reality was the blonde haired, blue eyed Cannon player standing in front of the giggling teenage girl.

“Choco-moco, please,” He said. I could hear the thick American accent. It was almost as identical as mine.

“Two Quidditch stars in one day? I’m one lucky girl,” the girl giggled, handing over the same ice cream I was consuming. I was frozen to my spoon. I couldn’t move. It was like the ice cream had melted into my blood and had then frozen again right on spot.

“Two?” He questioned, glancing around. That was when his eyes met mine. That was when we both froze, thick as the ice cream we held.

“Yeah! Gigi Jacobs!” The girl said, obviously not noticing our predicament.

“Gigi is that really you?” Tyler Gates asked, chuckling to myself as he broke out of his trance and made his way towards my corner. I felt like I was trapped. I didn’t have anywhere to run. I was still frozen to my spoon.

“Y-yeah,” I managed to mumble. Tyler’s grin only widened when he heard my voice. His sparkling teeth were too white. His eyes were too blue. He was too perfect.

“It’s been so long!” Tyler said, reaching down and hugging me. I didn’t return the hug. Unwelcomed, he took the seat across from me. “How have you been?”

I shrugged. What was I supposed to say? My life was plastered all over every single magazine in Europe. I may avoid seeing his name on covers, but I’m sure he didn’t mind seeing mine. He obviously didn’t mind seeing me right now. I managed to pull my gaze away from his face and casted it into my ice cream bowl. Do you think ice cream could drown you? I’d be willing to test that theory at this rate.

“Oh that’s right. Can’t talk to the opponent, eh?” He asked, chuckling again. He took a bite of his ice cream, eyeing me over the bowl. “Falcons, huh? I’ve got to admit that’s pretty impressive. I didn’t think you’d make it that far.”

“I didn’t think you’d make it to the Cannons, but here we are,” I found myself biting back. Tyler smirked right at me. I felt my stomach flip around a bit. Oh no. This is not going to happen. I was not going to even listen to him. He’d smile at me, flip his blonde hair away from his face, and then he’d walk off like he always did. People who you loved always left you. It’s what I did.

“Same ol’ Gigi,” Tyler chuckled, shaking his head. I felt a fire erupt in my chest. I was not the same.

“Same old Tyler,” I responded coolly. I saw his jaw clench as his eyes narrowed slightly. A sense of pride swelled up in me. “So how’s Hannah? Not as good in the sack I presume since she had her third kid. Lucroy’s this time, right?”

I saw his cheeks flush slightly. Good. I would embarrass him to the end of the world and back if I had to. I didn’t want to think about our past, but bringing it up made him feel uncomfortable, which I loved. A part of me wanted him to bugger off, but another part wanted him to stay. I wanted to see those damn blue eyes and I wanted to see that smirk. My infatuation with him was never healthy, but I had learned to be immune to his charm. Ever since that day.

“We split not long after we started,” Tyler mumbled, taking a bite of his ice cream. He didn’t make eye contact with me.

“That’s Hannah for you. Stealing other people’s toys and then once she gets them, moving on to the next,” I said, taking a bite of my ice cream in turn. Tyler narrowed his eyes on his ice cream.

“I shouldn’t have left you.”

I froze. My whole body tensed up. He couldn’t be saying this. He couldn’t be sitting in front of me, telling me he shouldn’t have left. It felt like someone was digging a knife into my chest. Not just stabbing me, but digging it into me like a shovel. I wanted to scream. I wanted to cry. But most of all, I wanted to kill Tyler Gates. He didn’t have a right to say that to me. He lost that right two years ago.

“Shut the hell up.” I snapped. Tyler’s eyes darted straight off of his ice cream and onto my face. He was used to my snaps and had been expecting it.

“I mean it, Gigi. It was the biggest mistake of my life. I’m not asking for you back, I’m just telling you that you deserved better than that,” Tyler said. My jaw clenched. I wanted to reach over and punch him. I wanted to leap across the table and make sure that Tyler Gates couldn’t breathe again.

“You have absolutely no right to be talking to me like this,” I hissed. I started to get to my feet to run from this small ice cream shop but Tyler was faster and grabbed my arm, tugging me back into my seat.

“Don’t do this, Gigi. I am just here to talk,” Tyler said, using the voice he reserved for little children. You know the voice. The I’m-better-than-you voice. The voice that makes you want to kill baby hippogriffs because you feel so pathetic.

“And I’m here to eat my ice cream. Guess neither of us got what we wanted, hmm?” I pushed myself up, dodging away from his arm as it reached out to pull me back down into my seat. I wasn’t a chaser for nothing.

“Gigi-“

“Stay away from me,” I warned. I stepped around the table to leave the ice cream shop, but he stood in my way. “Move.”

“Just sit down and-“

I cut him off by slamming my ice cream into his face. It didn’t go as well as planned since the dish was smaller than his face. So what ended up happening was the ice cream landed on his shirt and the dish made a cracking noise against his nose. He let out a yelp and stumbled back as blood oozed from his nose. The teenager from behind the counter gasped as she rushed forward with napkins for Tyler.

Oops.

I took this as my opening to escape.

“Merlin, Gigi!” Matt yelled as he caught the quaffle, bracing it against his chest.

“Are you trying to kill him or something?” James asked me. I felt the anger flare in me again. I would love to kill Tyler Gates right now. The whistle blew below us as Coach Smithson waved us all down. I groaned, but flew to the ground slowly.

“Jacobs, you may think you can carry the chaser squad on your back, but contrary to your beliefs, you still need Hankin and Potter to play decently,” Coach hissed at me. I kicked at the spot in the grass that was worn out. This was the spot that I normally landed on or kicked off from. I didn’t respond.

“I’m fine, Coach. No big deal,” Matt mumbled.

“Take a seat, Jacobs,” Coach said. I growled under my breath, but shoved myself into the bench on the side of the pitch anyways. Everyone else kicked back up into the air. I stared down at my broom for a while, not willing myself to look up into the air. In three days, we were playing the Cannons. They were rated number one in the league right now. We were number two. I knew how sweet of a feeling it would be to take that title away from them. Especially since it was Tyler-effing-Gates’s team.

“So, what’s going on, Jacobs? I’m not one for the mushy bollucks, but when my chaser tries to take out my other chaser with the quaffle, I have to get a little worried,” Coach said, taking the seat next to me. I glanced at him, then continued to stare at my broom.

“Nothing.” I mumbled.

“Something wrong with you and Potter?” He pressed. I felt a blush creeping up my neck.

“No.”

“I’m not good at this girl shit. It’s why I never got married. So just come out with it and I’ll pretend to listen.” Coach said in frustration. I couldn’t help it; I grinned at him. He looked like he was extremely constipated. It was the first time I saw Coach treat me actually well.

“My ex is on the Cannons. Ex fiancé. And I ran into him the other day at a ice cream parlor,” I confessed. Coach wrinkled up his nose.

“Gates?” He asked. I nodded my head, taking my hair out of the tight pony it was in and running my hands through it. “Does Potter know? That you ran into him?”

“No.” I admitted sheepishly. Coach raised his eyebrows at me. “I didn’t really think I had to…do I?”

“You have to tell your current boyfriend about all encounters with your ex. If you don’t, he might not be happy when he finds out.”

“What makes you think he’ll find out?” I asked.

“You’re a Quidditch star. Things leak easily.”

I stared up into the air as James shot the quaffle towards Adam who caught it with ease. James yelled profanities at him as Adam laughed and threw the quaffle back. I wasn’t used to relationship etiquette. I wasn’t used to relationships period. Even though the relationship with James was for show, I was warming up to him. I was beginning to see why we were called the “Quidditch Couple”. People loved seeing us together. People loved hearing us talk about one another. I felt a pang in my chest. It was all fake.

“Genevieve Jacobs!” A screech came from the entrance to the pitch. I swiveled around to see Sally charging up the walkway, a paper tucked under her arm.

“This is never good,” I mumbled to Coach, who was already on his feet. The team obviously heard the screech and were flying towards the ground.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?!” Sally asked in a shrill voice. She batted my shoulder with the newspaper she had rolled up.

“Ouch! What do you even mean?!” I hissed at her, ripping the paper from her grip.

“Go ahead, read the front page!” She yelled. “I cannot believe I am the manager to such an incompetent, inconsiderate, pre-Madonna!”

“Who’s a pre-Madonna?” Adam asked.

I unfolded the paper and saw the flashing letters on the front page and my heart nearly stopped. “JACOBS A REAL PLAYER?”. Below that was a picture of Adam sitting across from me in the ice cream shop. He was smiling at me and I was staring down into my ice cream dish. To someone who was looking at the picture, it looked as though I was shyly looking away from Tyler. I didn’t need to look at the article to know what it said. I’m sure the teenage girl was quoted many times.

”No. No, no, no, no, no!” I groaned, slamming the paper onto the bench. The team immediately swarmed around it, trying to get a view at what had bothered me so much. I held my breath as they all gasped. All except for James. He looked pissed. More than that, he looked hurt.

“James...” I found myself mumbling. He didn’t even look at me. I doubt he could find the capacity to. We had actually been doing really well the last few weeks. We hadn’t argued. We had been the perfect vision of a couple. We held hands in public and we kissed at just the right moments for the press.

“You’re so inconsiderate, Genevieve!” Sally hissed. “Think how bad this makes me look!”

“Shut up, Sally.” I hissed at her. She looked very offended, but I didn’t care.

“You will not speak to me that way!” Sally growled. I glared at her, but only briefly.

“James?” I questioned. He still wasn’t looking at me, but staring at the front cover of the page. He reached down, picking the newspaper up. His eyes scanned the picture multiple times. Suddenly, he ripped the paper straight in half. I covered my mouth up from gasping at the sudden movement. He threw it on the ground. I glanced at to see me on one half and Tyler on the other.

“Holy shit, James,” Barry mumbled. James turned and glared at Barry before shoving past everyone and rushing into the locker rooms. All of the guys turned towards me with raised eyebrows.

”Fuck,” I mumbled, running my hands through my hair in frustration.

“Well?” Chris asked. “Go after him.”

I did as I was told and ran to the locker rooms. James was sitting on a bench, head in his hands. I slowly crossed the room, sitting down next to him. He didn’t move. I wasn’t even sure if he was breathing. He had every right to be mad. I made him look like a fool. People would think we were unstable. People would think we didn’t have a good relationship. Everything would escalade. Everything would be messed up.

“James, I’m really sorry. I should’ve told you,” I mumbled. James didn’t move again. I wasn’t even sure if he had heard me. “Look, I’ll talk to the press myself. I’ll make sure they don’t bother you-“

“Do you really think that’s what makes me so upset?” James asked in a cold tone. He pulled his head out of his hands, his eyes narrowed into slits on me. I blinked a few times.

“I made us look bad as a couple. It was shitty of me to do, I know that, but I’ll fix it.” I explained. James let out a cold laugh. I felt a shiver run down my back at the fake tone of it.

“You really are thick, aren’t you? You saw your bloody ex-fiance. By the looks of it you still care about him!” James hissed. I frowned. I did not care about Tyler Gates. He was an asshole. He could burn on his broomstick for all I cared.

“He ran into me. I was there first.” I defended myself. James rolled his eyes dramatically.

“So you’re telling me he stalked you there?” James asked, but it was a very sarcastic question. I felt my anger and impatience growing.

“No, that’s not what I’m saying-“

“Then what, Gigi? You were flirting with your ex in an ice cream parlor! In a back corner, nonetheless.”

“I was not flirting with that git!”

“Yes you were!”

“I was not!”

“Damn it, Gigi!” James shouted, getting up and punching the locker in front of him. I wasn’t intimidated by his action. I was around men all the time so I was used to them putting out their anger on inanimate objects. It still made me jump. I’m sure he wished I was that locker.

“What in the hell do you want me to say, James?” I asked him, my tone softer than it was before.

He sighed, pushing a hand through his wind-tangled hair. He slowly slid to the floor, back against the locker he had just punched. He shook his head, studying his hands for a little while before looking up at me. His eyes swam across my face, taking in every feature down to the sweat droplets that were still on my forehead. He ran the opposite hand through his hair again. His eyebrows crumbled together as his jaw tightened, then unhinged again.

“You really don’t see it, do you?” James asked me, his voice quieter than it was before. I blinked a few times at him.

“What do you mean?” I asked. James sighed, shaking his head.

“Forget it.” He pushed himself to his feet. He then grabbed onto my hand that was on my knee and pulled me to my own feet.

“James-“

”Just stop. All I want you to do is promise you’ll stay away from Gates unless you are slamming him into a wall during the game,” James said. He had me close to his body. Even though it was hot out, I shivered slightly. I could see the freckles dancing across his nose from the amount of time we spent in the sun. My eyes wandered to his full, soft lips. My heart flipped suddenly.

”Mhm.” I managed to mumble. He smiled, drawing my attention right back to his lips.

“Then we’re fine,” He said. Though I knew we weren’t. We were far from fine. Well, he was fine. Yum.

He stepped back from me and pulled his shirt off. Fuck, he sure knew how to keep himself in shape. Oh wait, he’s a Quidditch player, of course he knew how to keep himself in shape. Get a grip on yourself, Gigi. You’re turning into some sort of fan girl. I blinked a few times, tearing my eyes away from his abdomen. James turned towards his locker, fishing for the clothing he had worn here. When he bent over, it was hard not to stare at his ass. What? I’m only human and James Potter was extremely hot right now.

Damn hormones.

“What do you say to coming over for watching the Puddlemere and Harpies match tonight?” James asked me. I blinked as he turned around, already fully clothed.

“Sure.”

“You bring the fire whiskey,” He said, going past me and towards the shower. Oh hell.

“That was a nice hit!” I shouted as one of the Harpies’ chasers slammed into a Puddlemere chaser.

“How did he stay on his broom?!” James questioned, leaning forward on his couch and getting into the game.

“If she slams into me like that in a few weeks, I will be down for the count,” I joked.

“Me too!” James retorted back, sending us both into bits of laughter. James took a swig of his fire whiskey.

“You’re an idiot,” I mumbled, shaking my head as I grabbed another fire whiskey from the jumble on the coffee table. It was only bottle three. Thank Americans for teaching me to have a high tolerance.

“I’m your idiot,” James said, his voice barely above a whisper. I blinked a few times.

“Not technically….I mean, it’s not real,” I mumbled. I felt an odd pang in my chest.

“I don’t care about technicalities. I’m still yours, Gigi.” I had to stare down into my hands. Romance and I don’t mix too well.

“I-I think…er… I’m going to just…I think I’ll-“ I started to stumble, my cheeks flushing and my heart speeding. James grabbed a hold of my chin, pulling it towards him. The television felt quiet. The room felt quiet.

“Stop, Gigi. Stop thinking. Stop talking.” James whispered. He was a inch or so away from my face. And then just one inch. Then a few centimeters.

“That’s going to kind of be hard,” I found myself saying. James smiled, chuckling a little bit. Only about one centimeter now.

“I’ll help you.”

And then James kissed me. His lips were soft, moist. At first it started off slow and passionate. My stomach was flipping into my throat. My mind my racing. James. Kissing. James shirtless. Kissing James while he was shirtless. Yum. I couldn’t get the though out of my head as we made out on his couch. It was James and I. That was it. There weren’t any secrets behind it or anything too complicated. We weren’t complicated. We were simple. That’s why what I did next. That’s why James and I were right where we were.

Shagging on his couch. I guess it’s classier than his kitchen floor.

Author's Note: HOW COULD I DO THIS TO YOU?! I know I'm aboslutely horrible. I think I have a problem. But tell me what you think of this chapter! Favorite quotes? Favorite scene? Now we have sober shagging! Woo James and Gigi! Ow ow! ;D.

The pitch was booming. Everyone was chanting for their favorite team, for their favorite player. I’ve never seen a stadium so packed. I was sure there were people simply standing because they couldn’t get a seat, but wanted to watch this game. Was that even allowed? Im sure people paid more just simply to stand like that. How many people were here? Millions it seemed like.

On the opposite side of the pitch, I could see the orange of the seven Cannon players making their way to the middle of the pitch. They looked like one single mesh. They didn’t look like seven individuals; they looked like one team. They were synced with one another. I felt envious of them. I could feel the tension of our team. We were nothing like them. We were going to lose our first game.

I chanced a glance at James. His face was paler than usual. His eyes were narrowed in slits. He knew exactly what I did. The difference was that you could see the glint of hope in James’s eyes. He always had hope, something I was envious of. He always saw the glass half full. He always saw the bright side of things. That was James Sirius Potter. He didn’t have a negative bone in his body unless it is about someone who has hurt someone he loves. He was damn near perfect.

I looked back slightly and to my left to see Matt Hankin. He was simple. He never questioned anything. He was immensely loyal to everyone on the team. He didn’t ask for much from anyone. Sure, maybe he drank to excess, but didn’t we all? We were sports players for Merlin’s sake. We loved our alcohol. He had his hand tight around his broom. He wasn’t looking at anyone.

I knew Adam was right behind me. Sweet Adam Freeman. You could never go wrong with him. He was a lover. He loved women, most of all. Sure, he needed some extra help with understanding the plays, but that was what I was here for. He was like the unruly brother, except I was hoping he wouldn’t hit on his sister. He did it innocently, though. His jaw was set and his lips pulled over his teeth in a snarl. Though to me, he wasn’t intimidating at all.

Next to Adam was Chris Piette. Chris probably was the most talented seeker I have ever come across in my lifetime. I don’t think he has ever not caught the snitch. He was modest, though. That was what made him so amazing. He didn’t let he fame or the fortune or his talent make his head big. His first love was his wife and that was all that seemed to matter to him. He looked a little afraid, but only I could see that from the fear I have seen from him almost losing his wife before.

Behind Chris and Adam I knew Barry and Scott were shoulder to shoulder. They had been in the business for quite some. Literally since birth. Right now, I knew they wanted nothing to do with one another. My heart was breaking for them. They were blood and now I doubt they’d even be able to play the game together. They truly loved one another. I really didn’t know if they did anymore after what just happened.

We didn’t look organized. We didn’t look like a team. We looked like seven separate players about to get demolished by the one team I couldn’t stand to lose against. I wanted to scream. I wanted to rub all of their faces into the grass until sense was drilled into their brain. I wanted to duplicate myself and make me the only player. Instead, I gripped my broom tighter and met the Chudley Cannons. I wanted to grip James’s hand when I saw the look on Tyler Gates’ face. He wasn’t looking at James, our captain, like he should have. He was staring right at me.

And then he had the nerve to wink.

James snapped right on spot. In one swift motion he was chest to chest with Tyler, yelling profanities at him. When did James take such a big shot of testosterone? When did he become so defensive of me? Everyone leapt into action. Our team was pulling James back. The Cannons were trying to put themselves in between the pair as the ref blew his whistle countless times. Tyler was shouting back at James. It seemed they were both trying to see who could get louder than the other.

Me? I stood there, dumbstruck. I didn’t know how to act. I could see James’s fists curling into balls at his side. He was going to strike. I leapt into action, managing to squeeze my small body in between them. My front was to James, my back to Tyler. Tyler was still shouting, but James had stopped, looking down at me in confusion. We were basically nose to nose. I felt his body heat radiating off of him.

“It’s not worth it, James.” I told him softly. He blinked at me, his face expressionless. He was having a big internal battle of morality. I couldn’t let him ruin this game. If he wanted to get back at Tyler, he’d do it on the field. I couldn’t hear anything around us other than the heavy breathing coming from James. I reached for his hand and gave it a tight squeeze.

“For me.” I pleaded. Immediately he stepped back and away from Tyler. I smiled at him. That was James, the boy I was fake dating. He had the biggest heart. He cared about his teammates. Tyler was still shouting, nearly directly in my ear.

“Oh shut up, Gates! Your shouting isn’t going to help your game!” I shrieked, turning sharply and glaring at him. My team chuckled behind me.

“Neither is you sleeping with your captain!” He hissed back. I gasped, advancing forward, but feeling a pair of large arms around my hips pulling me back.

“He’s not worth it, love.” James’s soft voice whispered in my ear. I looked behind me to see every team member glaring at Tyler. Matt was at my side. Chris and Adam were close, cracking their knuckles threateningly. Barry and Scott were shoulder to shoulder, bats at the ready.

We were a team again.

“Let’s play.” I growled, glaring down Tyler. This was going to be good.

The thing about Quidditch females is that we are naturally more graceful fliers. It may sound strange, but it is true. We were born with stronger legs, hence a better kick off. We are smaller, which means we have better aerodynamics. We also have a certain determination that men don’t have. A desire to strive above and beyond what men expect of us.

Or at least I do.

That was why I reached the quaffle first. It was a mass of blinding speed rushing past me as the Cannons went into defense and we went into offense. This was how you played the game. I felt someone on my tail, but dipped quickly past a bludger losing them. I threw the ball towards James and watched him shoot off in his own dance with Gates.

This wasn’t just a game of Quidditch. It was a grudge match. I realized that when I saw Gates throw an illegal elbow towards James’s face and blood started pouring from his nose like a sprinkler.

Oh this game would be interesting.

“How many bloody penalties are the refs going to call before they pull someone?!” Barry growled as we all stood in a jumbled mess. People had blood coming out of places I didn’t know blood could come out of. People were barely standing at this rate. I was surprised anyone could fly. What was the worst part of it all?

I didn’t have a single scratch on me.

They were doing this on purpose, I knew. Tyler told them to stay away from me. It was more than just a match against two top ranked teams. This game was a pride call against the two top captains. The Cannons surely weren’t training all week. They probably were in martial arts classes or something along those lines. Whenever a Falcon would try to retaliate, the Cannons came back with something ten times worse.

Adam doubled over and coughed blood onto the grass. I cringed slightly away from him. Matt winced as he touched his swollen eye. Barry was trying to clean up a large, deep cut on Scott’s cheek. Chris, though barely touched like me, was hunched slightly from a bludger to his ribs. James, however, was standing tall. He had the worst damage, but that didn’t seem to bother him. He wouldn’t let Gates get the best of him.

I felt a weird surge in my chest at this. I couldn’t describe it, but I suddenly felt very proud of James.

“Those boody gits!” Matt hissed.

“We’re the bloody ones, mate.” Adam commented, wiping at his mouth viciously.

“You all look like a bunch of pansies out there!” Coach Smithson shouted at us. I’m sorry, did I miss the score of 120-70?

“We’re winning.” I snapped. He glared straight through me.

“Yet the whole team is getting walked all over. I wonder why that is, Ms. Jacobs?” He looked at me knowingly. I felt my face grow hot at his comment and was immediately silent. I didn’t have anything to say after that point.

“Lay off of her, Coach.” James growled immediately in response. I glowered at him.

“I can stand up for myself, James.” I hissed towards him. He looked taken back, but didn’t say anything else.

“Then do it, Jacobs!” Coach shouted. His face was starting to turn purple. Good. Maybe he’d pass out and we wouldn’t have to hear this. “Stand up for yourself out there. Look at your team. Do something about it.”

Sadly, Coach Smithson was right. I was letting my team get walked all over. I was letting them all get hurt because of me. The Cannons weren’t hurting us because we were a high ranked team; they weren’t like that. They were doing cheap shots because Tyler Gates, their captain, happened to be my ex. They were doing this to remind me of that. Tyler wasn’t going to intimidate me any longer. He was going to get what was coming to him from those many years ago.

“I’m doing the best I can, Tyler!” I shouted through the sweat dripping down my face. I was sure there were tears mixing in with them.

“You’re not doing good enough!” Tyler screeched back. He slammed the quaffle he was holding into the ground. It made a large THUMP noise, but didn’t roll away. I wanted to scream at Tyler. Tell him he was working me too hard. I felt my head spinning I was so light headed and drained from the heat.

“I’m trying.” I whispered feebly. Tyler let out a ear shattering laugh. He shook his head at me and got about an inch away from my face.

“You want to win the Cup this year, Gigi? You want scouts to notice you? Do you want to get drafted?” They were dumb questions. He knew my answer was yes to all of them. He didn’t leave time for me to respond. He grabbed my broom and slammed it into my hands. “Then work! Go! Not even the Banshees are going to want you at this rate!”

He threw the quaffle into the air again as high as he could throw it. I shot up after it, kicking off hard and soaring high. I grabbed it before it began to fall, but I still heard Tyler’s whistle from below. He wasn’t satisfied with my kick off. He was never satisfied with my Quidditch skills. I landed, nearly crumbling into a heap.

“Good luck getting drafted, Gigi. You’ll be on the sidelines at this rate.” Tyler hissed, looking away from me as though I was lower than the dirt beneath our feet.

“Let’s go.” I demanded, walking away from the huddled group that was my team and into the middle of the field. The rest of the team followed in confusion. Yet no one questioned my madness. That’s the kind of confidence a true Quidditch team had in one another.

I wasn’t going to let Tyler Gates affect my game. He wasn’t going to get the better of me. Not today. Not ever. I felt James squeeze my hand and I felt a sense of protection wash over me. This team was my family and I’d be damned if I was going to let the Cannons ruin that. They’d have to go through me first and that’s a feat in itself.

“Ouch! Gates takes a nasty elbow to the face from Jacobs! How is that not a foul?” The commentator boomed. What can I say, I knew dirty moves that were legal. My elbow burned slightly, but I flew back into formation, ignoring Gates’s swears towards the refs.

Matt laughed as he shot the quaffle in the hoops with ease and it soared right in. The Cannon’s keeper was supporting a few cracked ribs due to a hard quaffle to the stomach via a Gigi Jacobs. He was already a slow flier and adding this in it had given us an additional fifty points. Sixty now. I smirked over towards Tyler Gates. I could see the shocked expression on his face. I could see the fear in his eyes. Good. Now he knew what it felt like.

I felt someone fly right past my ear. I glanced quickly to see Chris stretching towards the snitch. He stretched his freakishly long fingers out and caught the fluttering ball within his grasp. The crowd suddenly was louder than I’ve ever heard it before. Suddenly we were all engulfing one another in hugs. It was like we had just won the World Cup. Right now it didn’t matter that everyone probably needed a week off in order to recover. What mattered was that we had beaten the Chudley Cannons.

And it felt damn good.

“You’re a foul cheater, Jacobs!” Tyler screamed from outside of our circle. I glared at him over Matt’s shoulder, pushing past him.

“Wonder where I learned it from, Gates,” I growled at him.

I loved him. Plain and simple. He was my world. Him and Quidditch, that was all that mattered. I could see our future. I could see the two of us playing Quidditch, having children, and retiring happy together. A little bouncing blonde boy. A curly brown haired girl. A family. Mrs. Tyler Gates. Genevieve Gates. Gigi Gates. Gigigi. Had a bit of a ring to it, I have to admit.

I looked down at the shining ring on my finger and grinned. It was simple, yet so elegant I could not stop staring at it. Mom and Dad loved him. Jenny and Gabby thought he was the most charming, handsome younger guy they had met. Grandma threatened to steal him from me. He fit right in to my tight knit family. We were going to be our own tight knit family.

I was on cloud nine. Nothing could pull me down, honestly. Why would I want to be down? I had the love of my life within my grasp. All of my hard work since I was young was finally paying off. It was like karma was finally on my side. I was engaged. I was drafted onto a professional Quidditch team. Things were finally falling into place. I felt elated. I felt ecstatic.

Tyler and I had just moved into our own small, one bedroom apartment. It was simple. Yet elegant. I suppose that was how you could describe everything with us. We were living an ideal, perfect life together. Soon, we’d be able to afford our perfect wedding. I’d have the large gown, the long train, the countless flowers, the bridesmaids, the maid of honor, the hundreds of attendants, but most importantly, I’d have my groom at the end of the aisle waiting for me.

Hannah would be my maid of honor. She’s been my best friend since we both attended Salem. The first day of school we immediately became friends. She was my other half. Sure, she didn’t play Quidditch, but she was always at my games. Sure, she didn’t study as well as I had, but she had stayed up every night with me, talking me while I studied. I had been with her through heartache, through joyful times, and through times when neither of us thought anything would get better. She was closer to me than my sisters were. Tyler and her were the two people in my life that were my constant.

I had gotten done early from training. The Meteorites knew I was capable of doing anything they asked of me. I was easily going to rise to the top with that Canadian team, no doubt. I smiled to myself. Yes, everything was perfect. I quietly entered our muggle apartment. Tyler liked to sleep whenever he got the opportunity. The Cannons were running him dry. I looked down as I took my shoes off and frowned slightly. Hannah’s bright pink pumps were next to Tyler’s tennis shoes.

I shrugged it away. Hannah was here a lot when I got done with training. I was glad the two of them got along so well. It was quiet throughout the apartment. Hannah worked strange hours herself and probably had crashed on the couch. I tip-toed towards the bedroom, going to wake up Tyler first before I bothered Hannah. That’s when I heard a distinct noise. A groan. And then a giggle. I froze on the spot. No, it couldn’t be…

I pushed the door open with my toe and my body immediately stopped working. Tangled in the sheets, butt-naked, and in the middle of making love to one another, was Tyler and Hannah. They both immediately jumped apart when they caught sight of me, but the damage was done. My best friend and my fiancé were sleeping together.

And my world had fallen apart.

“And then WHAM! Gigi knocks Gates into the stands! You should have seen the look on his face!” Adam reenacted the game, bouncing wildly on James’s couch. I took another swig of fire whiskey as everyone else laughed at his antics.

“What’s the matter, Jacobs? You did fantastically today; you should be celebrating!” Chris said, coming over towards me and clinking his glass with my own without my consent.

“It’s what I do,” I mumbled, taking a swig again.

“What do you mean?” Chris asked, settling into the love seat next to me, swinging his arm over my shoulder.

“Play Quidditch. It’s what I do best,” I told him, not looking at anything in particular. Chris nodded awkwardly from my side.

“You do a lot of great things, Gigi.” Chris tried to clarify, but I shook my head at him. I wasn’t going to have it.

“Quidditch is all I know, Chris. All I care to know, honestly. So yes, I did well. I will always do well. That’s what you can expect from me,” I explained to him. Chris chuckled from next to me, giving my shoulder a squeeze.

“We do expect you to do well, Gigi. We expect a lot of you. Too much. The most important thing is you remember that Quidditch isn’t everything. You have to indulge on the little things. Like the fire whiskey in your hand. Or even our captain across the room,” Chris added the last with a wink. I shifted uncomfortably.

“Quidditch is everything, Piette. The only thing that I need. If I engulf myself in it…” I let my words drift off. Then what? What did I get from engulfing myself in Quidditch.

“You forget.” Chris finished for me. He was right. I’d forget the pain. “But it eventually comes back, Jacobs.”

He got up and went back to our team who was now chanting something about seeing a girl’s “hoo-has”. I watched as James animatedly pretended he had a pair and Adam groped them freely. He was explaining to a blushing Chris how he had to play with his wife’s “hoo-has”. It was like nothing had happened over the last 24 hours. It was like they were all still the connected team everyone set them out to be.

And I wasn’t a part of it. I was just watching it. I took a strong swig of my drink again.

“Oi! Princess! Come take a shot!” Adam shouted from across the room. I lifted my drink.

“I’m good, thanks,” I told him. James frowned and crossed the room towards me. He knelt down in front of me, studying me intently.

“What’s the matter, love?” He asked. I shifted again. I didn’t like being called that.

“Nothing.” I told him. James frowned and took Chris’s spot on the couch.

“Well, I don’t let a teammate sulk in the corner. Especially one that’s my fake girlfriend. You’re giving me a bad image.” James joked. I didn’t laugh. I didn’t even crack a smile. “We beat them. I thought you’d be jumping on the couch like Adam.”

“I’m happy we won. We practiced our asses off and we came through.” I told him. It was like I was talking in an interview. It’s how rehearsed I felt.

“But we beat your ex, Gigi. We beat the prick that hurt you.” James said in disbelief at my words. I barely cringed. I felt all emotion sinking out of me. I felt the air suffocating me.

“He was another player of another team. Nothing more.” I explained. James looked taken back at my words. “I’m going to get home. Get some rest. Just because we won one game doesn’t mean we can lose the big picture.”

I got up and James immediately followed. “I’ll walk you over there.” He said, putting a hand on my lower back. I immediately swiped it away. I could see the hurt look on his face and the confusion mixed in.

“I can walk myself home. It’s across the hall,” I told him. I don’t know how it happened, but my voice was colder than I intended. James did a double take.

“Who are you and what have you done with my Gigi?” James asked in a quiet voice.

“I’m not yours. I was never yours. This is all fake, James. I think it’s about time you realize that.” I hissed. James looked dumbstruck. I took that as my opportunity to quickly dash out and into my own apartment.

I let out the breath I didn’t know I was holding. What had gotten into me? Who was I? James’s voice rang in my head. I shook the thought away. I was a Quidditch Player. Nothing more, nothing less. It was about time that I realized that. It was about time that everyone else accepted it. They wanted a good Quidditch player? Fine. They’d get one. But they wouldn’t get the skimpy shorts, the trophy girlfriend, or the sexily posing girl.

They’d get Gigi Jacobs. Quidditch player. The only Gigi Jacobs that was alive anymore.

Author's Note: I know it was a long wait, but I finally got it to you! That is if anyone else is even here anymore. Anywhooooo, Tyler Gates is finally explained! Gigi's Quidditch obsession is coming back and with a vengence, plowing down anyone in the way. Including James. Let me know your thoughts, your ideas, your criticism. Well, don't let me knwo the criticism. I dont like those. Anyways, Rate and review!