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See that pretty thing? Done by Chocolate_Frog @ TDA
I held up the Quidditch robes in front of my body. A little big, but it would do. The robes were dark grey with white outlines. A falcon was embedded into the chest. I looked down at the back of the jersey. I beamed with pride. The number 4 was etched into the back and right above that was the stitching of my last name: JACOBS.
A flash made me blink a few times, but didn’t get rid of my pride. Me. I was here. I was the one standing, holding these Quidditch robes in front of me. Nothing could bring me down.
Except another flash. And another. Another lit up the whole room.
I came back to reality. People were all around me, shouting things to me. Questions. Ones I couldn’t hear over everyone else’s. I clung to the robes for dear life. I felt as though I had done something horribly wrong and that I was about to get executed by these reporters. Is this what Britain was like? If so, I think I might go back to America. Less press for people like me. No one cared about Quidditch in America; Quad was important there.
“Ms. Jacobs!” They all seemed to be shouting. I would let myself focus on one reporter before my eyes darted to another who seemed to be talking louder than the one I was looking at, just for the process to repeat itself. I’m only one person, I can’t answer a million questions at once.
“Excuse me!” A loud voice screeched from behind me. I looked gratefully at my manager, Sally Harvest. Immediately, all the press shut up, staring up at her with fear. I was a little fearful myself at her loud, demanding voice.
I have to admit, this woman had power. No matter how much I didn’t really like her. Curse Mother for knowing just the type of woman I would need to help me in my Quidditch career. This woman was brilliant. Loud, but brilliant. She knew what would make me a Quidditch star.
“One at a time or you’ll be wasting her time.” She hissed into the microphone. It was like a frenzy, all the press hopping up and down like school children. Sally was the mean teacher that taught her children all too well. She looked at me with raised eyebrows and gestured towards the crowd for me to pick.
“Uhm…yes, you?” I pointed to the nearest reporter who looked ready to wet his pants.
“Yes! Ha, in your face Daily Prophet!” he said, sticking his tongue out at the guy next to him who looked crest-fallen. Really? These really were children I was dealing with. “Marcus Theodore, Quidditch Weekly! Are you excited to be playing for the Falmouth Falcons, Ms. Jacobs?”
Falmouth Falcons. A team that everyone adored. I had followed them since I was little, even though I rightfully should have been following the Sweetwater All-Stars (they sucked too much to get my support). The Falcons had won the British Cup last year and two years prior to that. They were not only an amazing team, but honorable players. Now I was one of those players.
“Of course I am. The Falcons have an amazing organization and I’m honored to now be apart of it.” I said, containing the squeal that I really wanted to do. Sally had made sure I was extremely punctual in doing this.
What I really wanted to do was dance with my robes above my head and make fun of my old school friends who said Quidditch was stupid. Look who’s stupid now.
“The Falcons have never had a girl on their team before.” The Daily Prophet guy cut in. I nearly narrowed my eyes on him for being so childish, but coughed to hide my detest. “Are you worried?
I nearly laughed. Worried? No. Terrified? Yes. I would be lying if I said that I wasn’t terrified of the idea of going to an all men’s team that had never had a woman player. They had done amazing without a girl before, why would they need one now?
Because their star chaser had decided to retire, that’s why.
Curse Harley Chilton and all of his amazingness. He will be the downfall of me, I’m sure of it.
“I’m sure they’ll welcome me with open arms.” I heard my voice rise an octave, but none of the reporters seemed to notice.
“I think that’s enough. If you have any further questions, we shall schedule a press conference at a different date.” Sally interrupted the next reporter.
Sometimes, I’m glad Sally is here.
She grabbed onto my shoulder, nearly pulling it out of its socket, as she dragged me off the stage. Cameras were flashing every which way as we exited, but Sally didn’t seem to notice. She probably didn’t. She was a stunning 6 feet and decided that heels were the way to go. She was thin, but had a terrifying look to her face. She looked like she swallowed something sour, the way her face was contorted. Her unnatural blonde hair looked orange if you looked at it in the wrong light. I could see her roots coming in. I better mention that to her. She’d be mad. I’d have a good laugh at her.
Most importantly, Sally was my manager and a damn good one. Mom had hired her last year when I had gotten drafted to the Meteorites (much to Dad’s dismay). I had been drafted straight out of Salem’s Institute. Yes, I’m American and no, I am not dumb. Contrary to popular belief.
I beamed down at my robes as Sally pulled me into a hallway to apparate.
“See, not hard. You’re lucky you have me here, Genevieve.” She scolded. I immediately cringed at the use of my full name.
"It's Gigi," I growled at her. She waved a hand dismissively at me.
“Tomato, potato” She said, with a wave of her hand. I didn’t bother correcting her. Wasn’t really worth it, since she’d be calling me Genevieve in a matter of time.
“Ms. Jacobs!” a chubby man was running towards us, nearly out of breath. I smiled at him, knowing him as my brand new team manager. The guy who had asked me to come join the Falcons.
“Mr. Collins!” I said, stopping as I heard Sally sigh. He finally caught up to us, huffing and puffing. I felt bad for him. It was quite obvious that he hadn’t even tried to become a Quidditch Player ever, but had stuck to managing.
“I had someone put all your-“ insert his wheeze here. “-things into your new flat. If they didn’t arrange it the way you like, I will fire them and find someone new. Just let me know.”
Well isn’t this fancy? I knew that Brits were nice and all, but I have barely been here for a few hours. Seriously, I haven’t. My first stop when I apparated in was to get my robes and to show off in front of press (per Sally’s advice). I didn’t think it was necessary, but she insisted on getting my face out there.
“No, no! I could’ve unloaded it all. I know I have ridiculous amounts of stuff…” I tried, feeling my face flush, but Mr. Collins waved it off immediately.
“Nonsense! You’re one of my players now, one of the best! That’s how you are going to get treated here.” He beamed at me; his rosy cheeks made me feel slightly uncomfortable. It was probably the accent. I wasn’t used to it yet. I’m not sure I’d ever get used to it. British accents were damn attractive…even if he wasn’t.
“I’d like to discuss her salary,” Sally said, pulling her business jacket tighter around her. I felt my face flush once again.
“Sally, that is highly inappropriate right now!” I hissed at her. She waved her arm at me again.
“No, I understand!” Mr. Collins chimed in, though he looked slightly taken back as well.
“So? I’m thinking seven hundred thousand galleons a year.” She started talking. I nearly choked on my spit. I got paid half that from the Meteorites.
“Sounds reasonable.” Mr. Collins responded. I felt my eyes nearly bulge out of their sockets.
“A bonus on games she wins.” Sally added. Mr. Collins nodded in response. This didn’t make Sally happy. She wanted to be able to negotiate (which was really her arguing). “Well..maybe we should up it to eight hundred thousand galleons…she is amazing…”
“She’s got a year contract. I’m pushing it giving her seven hundred thousand galleons a year. Especially for her being a chaser. I paid Chilton 1 million and he was established, signed a five year contract, and was our captain. I’m capping it at seven hundred thousand.” Mr. Collins suddenly got a business-tone. I looked at Sally, not daring to jump in.
“Well, we can take her elsewhere!” Sally hissed.
“No! I’ll accept that offer, Mr. Collins!” I jumped in.
Who’d turn down 700,000 galleons a year? Not me. I’m not dumb.
The flat was breathtaking. It was large, my things looking completely out of place within it. I’d definitely have to invest in some new furniture (when I start getting paid, that is). The living room was painted brightly; my television and sofa set spread throughout it. My old jersey was hung on the wall, bearing the same number “4” on the back of it, but looked a little more worn. The kitchen had a large sunroof above the refrigerator, which whoever had moved my things in, had taken to stocking it.
The bedroom was also incredibly large. It had a walk-in closet and a large, three paneled window facing the country side. Thank Merlin for making southern England a mostly magical area. Muggles would have ruined it. Not that I’m a pureblood maniac, but muggles just make a mess of things. They put up huge factories and buildings and the works. America used to be pretty before muggles went all out on it.
That’s why people thought America was trashy. Muggles. I’m half muggle, so I suppose it’s half my fault too. Oh well, America can suck it. I’m not there anymore. I’m in beautiful Britain. I sighed.
What was I supposed to call my new home anyways? Great Britain, England, Britain, the UK? There were so many options; I wasn’t sure which one wouldn’t insult the people here. That would be something I’d have to ask a teammate when we became more acquainted.
I flopped down on my overly sized bed and felt as though everything was fresh. The sheets were probably cleaned fifty times. Egyptian cotton. Mmmm. It felt nice against my bare legs sticking out of my shorts.
I could get used to this. Even if I didn’t get used to it, I would force myself to like it.
I felt the air conditioning blowing through the vent right above my bed. I didn’t like fresh air, I liked air conditioning. It might be an American thing, since we take so many things for granted, but I didn’t care. It was boiling out for it being August and England had a dry heat. It felt disgusting. This is why air conditioning is key.
I heard the chime of the doorbell (a doorbell on a flat? Yes, it was that fancy). It sounded like some Christmas carol that I should know. I bounded out of the bedroom, ready to receive my welcoming pie or something along those lines.
When I pulled open the door, ready to see an older lady holding a casserole, but instead was greeted with a tall, tanned man with a goofy grin on his face. He was wearing no shirt and had khaki shorts on. Good lord, he was attractive, but something told me he already knew that. Probably was the way he leaned against my doorway in a cocky manner. That was it.
“Can I help you?” I asked him, raising an eyebrow. He grinned, showing perfectly straight, shining teeth.
“I’m your hot neighbor. This is the part where we shag.” He told me, his thick British accent booming around my flat.
“Excuse me?” I asked him. This was something I was not familiar with. Shagging. It didn’t sound pleasant, however. Something told me it was incredibly dirty.
“Yeah, I heard Americans are incredibly kinky.” He stated, ruffling his dark hair.
Now I understand. I nearly hit him on the spot. I was a professional, damn it! I was here to play Quidditch! Surely he understood that! I was in no way some play thing. I glared at him, crossing my arms in defiance.
“You do realize that you aren’t talking to one of those Americans, right?” I asked him. He blinked at me a few times, making it incredibly obvious he was eyeing me up. I smacked his shoulder immediately in anger. I didn’t want to be checked out by some pig!
“Sorry, got a bit distracted!” He claimed, rubbing his arm. I was about to slam the door when someone called down the hall.
”Fred! Oi, Freddie! What the bloody hell are you doing?!” another British male voice called. I groaned. I was sure to have two perverted neighbors. Joy.
“Meeting the neighbor!” the boy in front of me, now with the name Fred (what a generic, boring name), called back.
The next boy that came into view was easily recognizable. The untamed hair, the charming smile as he walked into view, the tall figure, the muscles, and most importantly, the Falcon’s t-shirt he was wearing. I would be able to recognize him from a mile away.
“You’re James Potter.” I said it more like a fact than an exclamation or a question. He was my fellow chaser and a damn good one at that.
“And you’re Genevieve Jacobs. Nice to meet you.” He told me back, but I immediately cringed, as per usual.
“Please. Call me Gigi. I feel like a grandmother when I’m called Genevieve.” I told him in tern. He smiled, but not before Fred could cut in.
“You don’t look anywhere near a grandmother. Nice perky chest!” He received a slap on the back of the head from James.
“You’re not coming over anymore if you’re going to harass her!” James exclaimed. So Fred wasn’t my neighbor. Thank Merlin.
“So you’re my neighbor?” I asked, leaning against the door. I was in the presence of a man who had knocked Igor Krum off of his broom in the World Cup last year. It was an amazing play. I watched it thirty times. Twenty more while drunk. I reenacted it whilst drunk as well. That’s just how amazing it was.
“The whole team is, actually. We’re required to live in the same building. You and I are on this floor. Since Williams and Piette both are married, they got their own floor. Then its really just two a floor from there.” James exclaimed. I nearly gaped at him.
“So there are only seven flats?” I asked. James nodded, digging his elbow into Fred’s side, who was trying to work his way into my flat. And failing.
“Fred, go home now.” James said with a sigh. Fred winked at me, but disapparated nevertheless. “That’s my cousin. He’s a bit of a handful sometimes.”
“Genevieve!” I heard the shriek before I could react and Sally came into view, shoving her way past James. I even saw him rub one of his muscled shoulders from the shove.
“What?” I hissed at her. She looked around the flat, wrinkling her nose in disgust.
“This is the first thing we fix. What is this, vintage?” She lifted up the quilt that was draped over the back of my loveseat as though it were covered in filth.
“My grandma made that!” I grabbed it out of her reach.
“Well, Grandma’s dead. Time to bury this blanket too.” Sally said. I nearly growled at her on spot, but composed myself because I could feel James’s eyes on me. I suppose I should be punctual around a teammate, right?
“No, actually. Grandma is not dead. Very much alive. Hates you, remember?” I said through gritted teeth. Grandma hated Sally after she had tried to make me pose nude for a magazine.
“Well…I’m going to go.” James mumbled from the doorway. I spun around and waved at him. Only to realize how lame I was and pulled my hand back down to my side.
Call me Lame-o Gigi. New chaser for the Falmouth Falcons. I grinned at that thought.
“We’re having a team dinner to welcome you to the team tomorrow night. ‘Round my place at about seven. I’m sure it won’t be hard for you to find!” James said, shutting the door behind him.
“He’s cute. I’m going to talk to his agent, see if we can set something up.” Sally started to take out her phone, but I ripped it out of her hands. Thank you, Quidditch reflexes.
“I don’t think so.” I told her, flinging her phone across the room.
What do you wear to a team dinner? Do you dress up? Do you dress down? Do you wear your jersey? The Meteorites never had team dinners. We had team parties, but not team dinners. I always knew what to wear to those, but not to these.
I stared at my closet. I was never a fashion guru, so I didn’t really have that many clothes. I didn’t find the need for them. Who needed fifteen tank tops, twenty jeans, and multiple dresses? Not me. I was fine with what I had.
Except for right now. Nothing seemed to say the right thing. Nothing said BAM or any other onomatopoeia that I needed at the moment. Shoot.
Okay, so maybe my dark jeans would work. Yes, those would suffice. I can’t wear a shirt that exposes my chest, because that’s just asking for trouble. I needed conservative, but cute. Times like these I wish I were a guy.
I ended up settling on a grey fitted tee. I’m not fashionable, I’m telling you. I think with this new money I’m getting, I’m going to hire a stylist. Maybe then I won’t have to spend twenty minutes standing in front of my closet in my underwear.
It was five after seven. If there was one thing I knew, never be early for something that is to be celebrating you. I do know a few things.
I went into the hallway and looked both ways. It was a small hallway with an elegant elevator at the end. I even saw potted plants adjourning the carpeted hallway. I noticed the only other door in the hall. Well, it’s not Igor Krum’s door, now is it?
I knocked and was immediately greeted by James’s smiling face. He pulled the door open further, and gestured for me to come in. You know that moment when you aren’t sure if you’re supposed to take off your shoes or not? I had one of those. Glancing at his feet and seeing tennis shoes covering his feet, I opted to keep mine on.
“Boys! Gigi’s here!” James called, shutting the door behind me. “You’re going to fit right in. Except you’re a girl…”
I snorted, but continued into the flat. His flat was almost the same as mine, except his things were ten times nicer, but with a boyish demeanor to them. He had jerseys, posters, and alcohol adjourning the walls. Yes, I did say alcohol. When I got further into the flat, I noticed six burley men scattered throughout the room.
This was my team. The Falmouth Falcons. I nearly squealed, but instead grinned rather goofily. I felt like Fred.
“Gigi! Welcome to our team!”
“It’s so amazing to finally have a girl!”
“Yeah, so you’re not alone now, right Piette?”
“Oh you’re real clever!”
“That’s what your wife said last night!”
“The lot of you, shut up!” James shouted at everyone going back and forth. They all turned to James with grins on their faces. "Now, introduce youself to our new teammate."
Well, at least we knew who was going to be team captain this year. They all stepped forward in an unorganized fashion and I felt my face grow hot. Now, I understood why people said the Falcons had some of the most attractive players. I recognized them all, but let them go through the formalities.
“Scott Williams. Twenty-nine. Beater. Married.” A large, very attractive man said, sticking out his hand. I shook it, but felt my fingers nearly fade away in his large hand.
Another man stepped forward, looking identical to Scott. “’Ello, love! Barry Williams. This twats twin. Beater as well, but I’m single.” He sent me a wink to which I smiled at.
“Pleasure.” I told him, going to shake his hand, but he took mine and kissed it. I had to remind myself it was a British thing. Still didn’t keep my face from turning red.
“Adam Freeman..because I’m a free-man.” Another guy said, pushing Barry out of the way. He had the most charming smile I had seen. I almost melted on spot.
“Nice to meet you, Adam.” I said, returning his charming smile with one of my own.
“I’m twenty-five. I’ll be the keeper to your heart.” He told me. I nearly gagged, but kept my composure, nodding at his words.
“That’s cute. Try using that on someone who isn’t your team member.” I told him. The boys all started to chuckle, while Adam looked crestfallen.
“Christopher Piette. Married as well and the seeker.” Another handsome boy said, but this time with a French accent. Oh, the things I could get used to over here.
“Matt Hankin. Chaser.” A guy grumbled from the couch. He was holding his head and seemed to be contemplating even talking to begin with. “Incredibly hung-over.” He added. Well, that explained it.
“There’ll be a few people by later, but thought we’d get to know you first before we have this shin-dig.” James crossed his arms and sat down on the arm of the couch.
The whole team was looking at me now (minus a hung-over Matt). I hadn’t really thought of what they wanted to hear. Should I tell them what they told me? I opened my mouth, but closed it once again. Telling them I was a fan of all of them probably wasn’t an ideal way to start this off.
“Well..” I started. Even a worse start. ‘I’m Gigi Jacobs. Twenty-one. Single.” Adam went to speak up, but James shoved a sock in his mouth. Where he got the sock, I’m unsure of.
“You need a shot.” Matt stated, pushing himself off of the couch and over towards the bar in the corner of the room. He was still groggy, but managed to grab a shot glass and pour green liquid into it.
“No, I really don’t-“ before I could object any further, Matt shoved the shot into my hand.
”I’ll do one with you!” James called, running to get himself a shot. All the boys shot towards the bar and were pouring themselves shots now. I stared down at mine and sniffed it. Ugh. Smelt like vomit.
They all returned, each holding a shot glass and a big grin. “Welcome to the team, Gigi!” James called, as did everyone else, tapping their glasses together.
I let the liquid slide down my throat and immediately cringed at the taste.
This was going to be a long night, I could already tell.
Author's Note: Should I be starting another story? Probably not, but the idea of James Sirius Potter has been so appealing to me lately, I couldn't resist. I have a lot of chapters written for this story, but for those who read my other story, I will update them both! No need to worry. I'm pretty good about being a fair Mother to my two children (aka these stories).
So what do you think? Do you like Gigi? Like the way the story is? Please let me know! Just an fyi: 700,000 galleons is roughly 7 million U.S. dollars and 3.5 million pounds. That's what a good quarterback makes in the NFL and what a good baseball players makes, just so you understand the significance of it!
Beautiful...err I mean handsome chapter image by Chocolate_Frog of TDA!
I woke up to a pounding headache. No, it wasn’t just your normal throb; it was one that even lying down wasn’t helping. It was one that made me unable to even think about how I got it. I leaned over my bed and retched up all last nights contents onto my floor. Even Egyptian sheets couldn’t make this better. I frowned at the prospect of that. Egyptian cotton was supposed to make everything better, damn it!
I felt around to pull my comforter around my head, my eyes still shut, but couldn’t find it. I was bloody cold and sick! Al I wanted was my freaking blanket for crying outloud! Too much to ask? I reached to my left and that’s when I felt it. I went to tug my blanket towards me, but something was holding it in place. I tugged harder, but was greeted with a very manly groan.
“D’mind? I’m cold too.” The voice said. I nearly jumped right out of my skin. Instead of out of my skin, I jumped onto the floor. Right into my vomit. It made a disgusting squishing noise upon impact. I was almost sure it had splashed me in the face, but my head was pounding too much to care.
That was the least of my worries. I had a boy in my bed. I peered over the edge to see the tan complexion of Fred Weasley grinning at me, very amused with a bare chest. Shit. Oh shit. Please don’t tell me…This cannot be real...this cannot happen to me.
I looked down at myself to notice I was stark naked. I screeched, grabbing a sheet and wrapping it around myself to save any dignity that I had left. I'm pretty sure there wasn't. This is horrible. Worse than the time that I had to take the ugly guy at the club home so that my drunk, engaged sister didn’t.
“No need to cover up, love. I saw it all last night,” Fred sent me a sly wink. I retched up anything that was left in my stomach all over my Egyptian cotton sheets. I felt dirty and I’m sure it wasn’t just from the vomit.
“Well, honestly… I didn’t think you could be a Falcon and not hold your liquor..” Fred grumbled, waving his wand over me. The vomit all disappeared, but I still felt filthy. I could feel Fred's eyes linger on me for far too long and had the urge to vomit again.
“Get out.” I said, though my voice cracked from not using it.Or maybe it was the hangover. Who knew.
“What?” Fred asked, probably not understanding me. I wouldn't be surprised.
“Get out!” I shouted this time, except my voice still cracked. He smirked at me, gathering up his clothes. I felt the need to shield my eyes as to not see anything. This was horrible! The first night in England and I already slept with a team member’s cousin.
This couldn’t get worse, it really couldn’t.
I heard my doorbell chime loudly through the flat. I grabbed onto my forehead as it began to throb again, this time way worse than before. Fred raised his eyebrows at me as I sat on my floor, unsure if I wanted to answer it or not. “Want me to get it?” He asked.
“No!” I hissed, pushing myself up. I wrapped my sheet around me more securely and went to answer the door. I poked my head out the doorway to sheild my obviously naked body, though it was covered with a sheet. A thin sheet.
“Hey Gigi!” Matt chimed, obviously not hung over from the night before. Was I this much of a wimp to them? I groaned as his voice echoed in my head. “Hang overs are slags, aren’t they?”
“Something like that.” I mumbled. James smiled widely at me and raised the paper bag in his hands.
“Chasers have breakfast together every morning. Didn’t know if you’d packed your fridge yet, so we brought some goodies over.” James went to walk in, but I stepped in front of him. Did he know I took Fred home last night? Because apparently I don't.
“Can you give me just a second to get some clothes on or something?” I asked. The two looked at each other and smirked. Pervs.
“We don’t mind!” Matt said, letting me close the door lightly in their faces. In the most polite way possible, of course.
Fred was leaning against the bedroom door frame, a large smirk on his face. I immediately glared. “Look, I don’t know what the hell happened last night, but you need to leave.” I hissed at him.
“You don’t have to be embarrassed. You’re a good shag.” Fred said nonchalantly. I punched him on the shoulder, to which he shrieked to.
“Out!” I whispered in a harsh tone. He put his hands up in defeat, disapparating on spot. I let out a sigh of relief and quickly dashed into my room, throwing on a pair of sweats and a t-shirt. Their fault for wanting to come in the morning when I don’t look my best.
I let them in, to which they made their way to the kitchen and started cooking. I was surprised that they hadn’t asked me to cook for them. I watched with amusement as James threw an egg at Matt’s head. It hit him right on his ear. I laughed loudly.
“Think that’s funny?” Matt asked. I nodded through my laughter. That’s when I felt a piece of raw bacon slap the side of my face. I looked up in shock to see James doubling over in laughter.
“Oh, this means war!” I shouted, grabbing the waffle mix and throwing as much as I could at the two.
Needless to say, my flat was now a complete mess. Waffle mix, eggs, juice, and even some ketchup covered everything in a thick layer. There was even some on the ceiling. I laid in a heap on my bedroom floor, since the fight had even moved in their after we had messed up the living room a good bit. James was sprawled out on my bed, having won a fight with Matt for it. Matt was resting against my dresser, a large grin on his face.
“I like you.” Matt said, smiling at me.
“I’m glad.” I told him in tern.
“What’s this?” James asked. He wasn’t in my view, so when I rolled over, I was in for a huge shock. He was holding up a pair of striped boxers. More importantly, Fred’s boxers.
“Oh! Uhm-er… I sleep in boxers. More comfortable.” I tried. Matt crawled onto the bed, examining the boxers as well.
”That’s why they say “Property of Freddie Weasley, please return upon finding”?” Matt asked. James’s eyes widened as he let out a girlish shriek, throwing the boxers at me. They landed on my head.
What a way to start out my relationship with my team, right?
“Wait, this isn’t what it looks like! I-I…I mean…” I felt myself fumbling over my words. What could explain my actions enough?
Matt and James looked at each other, smirks on their faces. They looked ready to laugh. Nothing was funny about this! I hadn’t meant for it to happen, but it did. It was a horrible experience…even if I didn’t remember it. I’m sure it was horrible. I’m sure he’s horrible in bed.
Suddenly, they both started to laugh. It was like their laughter bubbles suddenly burst and all that they were holding in was being let out. I even saw tears in Matt’s eyes. I looked on dumb-founded. Was I a joke? Was I just another girl? A girl that had sex with James’s cousin. Fantastic. I probably was just another girl.
My face felt like it was on fire. I am embarrassed. I’m not sure if I should shuffle my feet, hide my face, or just cry. Yes, that was the girl coming out, but this was my first day with the best team in Professional Quidditch. Quidditch is the sport that you have to get along with your team; Quidditch is the game where your team is your family. I was jumping in to their family and then screwing the cousin of the family.
Something about that didn’t sit right.
“Gigi, we should really tell you…” James said after his laughter had died down. I was sitting awkwardly on the ground.
“That was our initiation in a way.” Matt added, wiping tears from his eyes. “We needed to get you laid-“
“We’ve never had to deal with finding a guy, we normally find a willing girl to shag our new teammate-“
“-but Freddie pretty much volunteered when we told him about it!” Matt and James went back and forth explaining.
I stopped, contemplating what they had just told me. Initiation? I stared at the two, almost as dumb-founded as they had been when they had found the boxers in the first place. I wasn’t sure how to react, really.
“You alright, Gigi?” James asked tentatively. I realized that I hadn’t moved since they had told me this information. Glancing at the pair, I nodded slowly, still unsure how to react.
“Go make me breakfast.” I told them. They looked at each other and then back towards me. “You made me have sex with your cousin. Go make me breakfast. Now.”
They both immediately shot up and ran towards the kitchen at my harsh tone. I could get used to this.
“Jacobs! Do you not know a reverse pass from a porskoff ploy?!” I heard the shout from the pitch and immediately cringed.
To say my first practice as a Falcon was going well would be an understatement. Really, it would.
I had been refused my own locker room. They’d never had a girl on the team, so one locker room, plus an opponent’s locker room had sufficed. When I asked if I could just go change in the other locker room, Coach Smithson gave me five laps. I had to change in front of six men who didn’t make it subtle about where their eyes were. Not to mention once I did get changed, my practice gloves were too large. Coach Smithson hadn’t thought that I wouldn’t be able to fit into Harley Chilton’s large gloves and gave them to me.
He claimed I should be honored to wear such a man’s gloves. When I tried to put a shrinking spell on them, I got my wand taken away and was given three more laps for trying to damage Harley Chilton’s precious gloves.
To say Coach Smithson was bitter about Harley Chilton leaving would be another understatement.
After I finished my eight laps and managed to get into the air, I was exhausted. The Meteorites were a very easy-going team. We barely did exercise, to be honest. That could be why we lost so many games. The Falcons were the dead opposite. Upon getting into the air, they were flying as fast as they could from goalpost to goalpost. You may not think that is as hard as it sounds, but it’s just like being on your feet, but worse.
So you can guess I lagged slightly behind. Which earned me another three laps.
Now, I was trying to keep myself composed without passing out. I was a damn good chaser, but these boys were fit. More than fit, they were Olympians, I swear. How the hell did a thirty-nine year old keep up with them? Damn Chilton.
Plus, the coaches comment about a ploy and a reverse pass made absolute no sense. There was a huge difference. I’d be an imbecile if I didn’t know it. Which apparently he thought I was.
I nearly squeezed the quaffle into a pulp, but managed to release it from my grip and send it flying towards Matt who tucked it straight under his arm. I was playing center, Matt was playing right, and James was playing left. Coach didn’t like me being in the middle, but since James recommended it (being that I’m left-handed), Coach didn’t have a choice. He adored James.
“No, no, no!” Coach Smithson screeched from the ground. I groaned, running a hand through my hair in frustration. Did he want me to grow some balls and get some testosterone or something?
“What this time?” I asked him. He was glaring up at me. He hopped on a broom and flew towards the three of us.
“You’re doing this all wrong!” He growled at me. I studied his puffy face and frowned.
“Oh am I?” I challenged him. This just made him worse as his face grew red with anger.
“Yes!” He shrieked.
"You try it then.” I instructed. James and Matt paused, sharing a knowing look. I flew out of the way as Matt threw the quaffle to Coach.
“Bloody Americans,” He mumbled. I crossed my arms and watched with interest. He used to be a chaser on this team ten years ago, but had to have lost some power since.
He stretched his arm back, suddenly sending a bullet towards Matt. Matt grunted, but tucked it under his arm. I felt my nose itch with irritation. So maybe it was an amazing pass, but that didn’t make my pass any worse! He turned to me with a smirk.
“Look, Jacobs. We’re paying a hefty amount for you to be here, so you better strengthen that arm of yours. Both of them, if you plan on playing center.” He told me. “I want to see a lot of reverse passes from you three before we leave tonight!”
I groaned as did the other two. I flew out in front with the quaffle under my arm and tossed it over my shoulder to James, but heard the Coach before I even let go of the quaffle. “Give her it back! Make her do it again!”
“He’s just bitter that Harley’s gone. It’s nothing against you.” Chris told me as he pulled his shirt over his abdomen. I grunted in response.
“Piette’s right. You’re an amazing chaser, Jacobs.” Adam added from his locker where he was spraying way too much cologne over his chest. Again, I grunted in response.
“Your passes are ten times more accurate than Harley’s were. He used to send us flying to the ground to go after his throws.” James took his turn to try to cheer me up. Matt nodded at James’s comment in agreement.
“I’m not going to fit into his shoes…or should I say gloves.” I grumbled, throwing the over-sized gloves against the opposite wall.
Scott leaned over ruffled my hair. Barry followed suit. I grunted at the two, but didn’t bother shoving their hands away; I was too tired to move. While everyone else was chipper, I felt like I was going to combust from exhaustion.
“We’ll get you some new gloves, Jacobs. No need to worry about that!” Barry said.
“What do you say we take you out for drinks? This time you can shag me!” Adam said, a large smirk on his face. I glared at him as James smacked the back of his head.
“If you forgot, you have extra training tomorrow, per Coach’s request.” James told Adam. Adam’s face immediately fell upon James’s declaration. I can’t say that James didn’t look pleased at this.
“Sod off, Potter.” He mumbled, pulling his shirt on. James shrugged, buttoning up his own shirt.
Suddenly, there was a large banging from outside the locker room. Everyone turns towards the locker room door, which had been charmed locked. Apparently press liked to try to sneak a peek inside. The banging continued, which sounded a lot like someone trying to knock.
“What the bloody hell is that?” Barry asked. Matt rolled his eyes, but since he was closest to the door, he peeked outside.
“Oh! Err-Jacobs? Yeah…sure..” Matt turned towards me and I immediately frowned. I didn’t need him to even say it, so I held up a hand.
“I’ll see you all later, then.” I mumbled, pushing past Matt and out of the locker room. Sally was waiting for me, her bleached hair looking orange (surprise, right?) in the glare of the lights of the Quidditch pitch. She frowned down her nose at me.
“What do you want?” I asked her, shoving my bag up my shoulder and making my way towards the apparition area.
“You need to get noticed over here, Jacobs. You need eyes on you! I came up with the perfect plan…” she paused for dramatic effect. I turned to her with a raised eyebrow. “You’re going to get some sponsors!”
I groaned at the prospect. I had had sponsors when I first joined the Quidditch League. One of my sponsors had decided to make me wear a headband (which was extremely un-stylish) during the game. I nearly crashed into a stand when the thing slipped over my eyes. Other sponsors had tried to get me to wear unrealistic clothing.
“Like who?” I asked her. She smiled at me, grabbing out her notepad and flipping through it.
“Well, you have a few prospects. Witch Weekly is interested….Quidditch Supplies is willing to pay a good fortune for you…and Vivian Welton is willing to put a few galleons towards you as well.” Sally chimed.
“What’s the catch?” I asked her. There was always a catch when it came to sponsors.
“Well, Vivian Welton wants you to sponsor her lingerie. Pose in a few shoots wearing it. She thinks that you must have a good body if you play Quidditch.” I almost cut her off, but bit my tongue. “Quidditch Supplies just wants to put their sticker on your broom during the matches. Witch Weekly is willing to sponsor your summer shorts-“
“I’ll do Quidditch Supplies and Witch Weekly.” I told her. She frowned, obviously upset with my choices, but marked it off in her notepad.
“Alright, I’ll go make those deals right now. Go get some rest. You need beauty sleep.” She told me. I didn’t argue as I apparated straight into my bed.
Author's Note: So I'm hoping this story is liked. I'm not sure if you are enjoying it (whoever is out there reading it- it does say I have a few people actually reading this). So review and all that good stuff...
Gigi slept with Fred as initiation! Gets me every time. See you all next time at the bottom of the page! Until then, my dear friends.
Beautiful chapter image by Chocolate_Frog @ TDA
“No!” I shrieked. Sally was walking around me as I stared at myself in the mirror, my eyes as large as quaffles. “There is no way I’m wearing this!”
“I think it looks great!” Sally argued. I glared at her, looking at my rear-end again.
“Yeah, that’s not saying much from the lady who has yet to take care of those horrible roots. They’re coming in, you know.” I told her. Zing. I had managed to get that in.
“This is my natural hair color!” Sally hissed, her face turning beat red.
“And I’m the Minister of Magic.” I responded. She let out a dramatic sigh, but crossed her arms in defiance.
“It’s too late to order any other ones. The order date was up last week. You’re going to have to wear those.” Sally told me. I nearly gasped.
“These cannot be regulation!” I told her. She shrugged, returning to her pad. I stared at myself in the mirror, my long legs sticking out of the unbelievably short-shorts. I think the only thing they covered was my bottom. I spun around. Sure enough, just barely covers my bottom. The Quidditch Association would not allow me to wear these. I was sure of it.
I heard a wolf whistle from my door and spun around, my wand raised. I was in no mood for pleasantries. James stood with his hands in the air, but a large smirk on his face at the sight of me. Matt was behind him, an equally large smirk on his own face.
“Now who are you trying to impress?” Matt asked, coming around James as I lowered my wand.
”Apparently the whole Quidditch Association.” I told them, glaring at Sally who was still buried in her notepad. She didn’t notice my glare.
“Are those even regulation?” James asked. I shrugged, unsure myself. I was sure they weren’t. “I’m sure they aren’t.”
“That’s what I told her.” I said, jerking a finger in Sally’s direction. Still no response from her.
“Well…we have to go meet with Coach to discuss tactics for next weeks game. We came to grab you.” Mat told me. My eyes were as big as bludgers.
“Sally! Why didn’t you tell me about this?!” I shrieked, rushing into my bedroom to find some suitable clothing.
“Hmm? Oh yes. I thought you would already know.” Sally said from the other room. I grumbled as I heard her strike up conversation with James.
“Let’s go!” I said, dashing past Sally and out the door.
“Jacobs, I want you to play right field.” Coach told the room, writing it down on his board. I nearly choked on my own spit.
“Right? But Sir, I’m-“ he turned, glaring at me.
“Harley could play any position, even though he was left-handed.” Coach Smithson growled. Everyone was silent in the room, their eyes darting from my red face to the Coach’s.
“I’m not Harley, now am I?” I asked him. His glare deepened.
“No. You have no where near the talent!” Smithson growled. My jaw clenched as the anger built up inside of me. How dare he compare me yet again to Harley.
“I bet I can score more goals than he did against the Magpies next week!” I challenged. The Coach let his head roll back in a laugh.
“And when you can’t?” he challenged in tern. I hadn’t thought of that.
“Play me at center next week. For one game. If I don’t score more goals than him, you can put me at right for the rest of the season. When I score more goals than he did, you keep me at center.” I told him. He glanced around the room, trying to make up his decision.
“Fine. Then no more complaining out of your mouth as well.” He said.
“Fine.” I mocked.
Coach turned back to his board, writing with more vigor as he erased me from right and put me at center. He placed James and Matt in their respective spots, talking about plays that I had memorized the day I had gotten the play book. I knew the Falcon’s plays up and down. I could play the keeper at this point.
“You’ll have to score thirteen to beat Harley’s record against the Magpies.” James whispered to me. I frowned at the prospect of thirteen goals against such an amazing team. Magpies were brilliant and had an amazing keeper.
“I’ve done better.” I told him. James raised his eyebrows at my comment.
“Not against the Magpies. When you played for the Meteorites, you scored eight times against the Magpies.” James said. I turned towards him, my eyebrow furrowing.
“How do you know that? I don’t even know that.” He simply shrugged at me, a smirk on his lips as he leaned back in his chair, his hands behind his head.
“I had to research the new team member. Hope you don’t mind.” James winked casually at me. Insert butterflies here.
What? I’d be stupid not to think James frickin’ Potter is drop dead gorgeous. He has been Quidditch Weekly and Witch Weekly’s most eligible Quidditch Star two years in a row for three consecutive months. I was willing to bet that the fact that his father was so famous had something to do with it as well, but I’m not picky. It was nice seeing his almost-nude body on the covers of those magazines.
“Do you two mind or do you need us to leave the room so you can have a good snog?” Coach’s voice rang in my ears. I felt my face go beat red as a few snickers were heard. I didn’t notice that James was leaning towards me so that I could hear his whispers.
“No, sir. S’alright. Carry on.” James said, not any bit of color in his face.
There’s one thing I wouldn’t be able to get used to: the attractiveness of this team. Or the fact that the Coach actually hated me. That was something that was very new to me.
The next few days were brutal. I’d wake up sore only to have to go back to the grind all over again. For an exhibition game, everyone was taking this game far too seriously. Although the Magpies were in our division, they wouldn’t be playing at their best either. Rumors were even going around that they were going to give their reserve seeker a chance to play next Saturday.
Nevertheless, not a single Falcon let up. James would come over every morning and wake me up, seeing as how I preferred to sleep in. James was a morning person. Matt would come in a half hour later. We had been switching who would do the breakfast cooking every morning. Turns out that without magic, neither of the two could cook a decent breakfast.
I was currently studying a large bruise on my ribcage that Barry had hit towards me. I had gotten six laps for not dodging out of the way. I had actually deserved the laps this time. We had been practicing bludger dodging. Matt had cracked a joke and I was in the middle of laughing. I was almost knocked off my broom from the force.
I went to conjure a magical ice pack when Adam came into view. I still heard his comment of “I’ll be the keeper to your heart” in my head. I cringed as he took a good look at my bare stomach.
“Need some help?” He asked, handing me an ice pack. He didn’t strike me as the kind type, but I guess you helped your own.
“Thanks.” I mumbled. I placed it carefully on the bruise and immediately felt the magic working. Thank Merlin for magic.
“Coach has me doing extra training too, you know.” He said nonchalantly. I nodded, suddenly feeling my muscles tense up again at the thought of having to lift weights still. They made my arms feel like jelly, not any bit stronger. “We could train together, you know.”
“I’m doing weight lifting training, Adam.” I told him with a snort. Though I wasn’t sure what he was doing for extra training, I’m sure it wasn’t that.
“I know you are.” He told me. He sat down on a bench and I followed suit. He suddenly looked nervous as he shuffled his feet. He was avoiding my eye contact as he ran a nervous hand through his hair.
“Nervous, Freeman? Oh god, you’re not going to ask me out, are you? Because the answer is no,” I scooted slightly down the bench. Did the guy not take a hint?
He chuckled, the small spark of Adam coming to his eyes. “No, but I wouldn’t object if you asked me out. I’m bloody handsome…it’s just…well, I have a different kind of training.”
“Are you trying to tell me you’re with the Coach?” I asked him. His eyes were as big as quaffles.
“No, Gigi, gosh!” he exclaimed, slapping my shoulder. “I have trouble remembering the plays.”
“To you. Not to me.” He mumbled, staring down at his hands. “I was thinking…I’ll help you with your weight lifting if you help me remember the plays. You looked like you had the plays memorized the first day you got here.”
“That’s because I did.” I said with a large smile. He rolled his eyes at my confidence. “But I’d love to help.”
“We can do other stuff too!” He wiggled his eyebrows.
I stared down at the three letters in my hands, a frown on my face. All the handwriting was distinctive, having its own style, but I recognized all three different letters immediately.
I’m the youngest of three girls. Jenny was 23 and looked like my twin (as we are reminded daily). She gave birth to the most adorable child when she was 18. The father left the picture. Carter (my nephew) is her pride and joy. Gabriella is the oldest of us, being 26. She’s actually engaged to the love of her life, Ethan. Though she looks nothing like us, I’ve been told I act just like her. My mom is in her early 50s, my dad being in his late 50s. They loved all of us girls. They had made a promise to keep in touch with me when I signed with the Falcons.
This was them doing that.
How is everything going? Are you getting along well with your teammates? We miss you so much here; this letter isn’t telling you that enough. If you weren’t out of service, you’d be receiving countless phone calls. I’m going to make this brief, since I’m writing this on my break at work. Dad sends his love and asks when he is going to get his free tickets. We’d all like to know, actually. I can’t wait to see my baby playing with the best! You deserve it. Grandma sends her love as well.
We are so proud of you, Gigi. Don’t forget that.
Please tell me you’ve gotten laid over there. I won’t accept a letter from you unless it says this. You need to get laid. I’m serious. Your team has some of the most gorgeous men I have ever seen. Did you have sex with any of them yet? If not, I might when we all come to visit. I’m just warning you.
Carter misses his Auntie! We all pre-ordered your jersey and plan on wearing it to your first game (the actual season game. I’m not paying galleons to watch an exhibition game). Carter says he is going to wear it every day, since it says his name too. If he refuses to let me take it off of him, I’m blaming you.
I miss having a babysitter! Let me know when I can come visit and we can go clubbing. I heard London has some amazing clubs!
See you soon,
Jenny and Carter
Are you doing well? Making a lot of money, I’m sure. Probably forgot about your small town family over here in Wisconsin. We’re still here, so you know. Waiting patiently for our share of your money (only kidding).
I want to hear all about Britain. Is it as beautiful as they say? Now you’ll never be coming back to little Wisconsin. We’re just a dot on the globe to you now, aren’t we? I don’t blame you; if I was a Professional Quidditch Player, I would want to forget all about Wisconsin too.
Speaking of which, when do we all get to see you in action? Sure, we’ve seen you play with the Meteorites, but that’s nothing compared to the Falcons! Ethan ordered Quidditch Weekly and sure enough, you were mentioned in multiple articles. Teams aren’t ready for Gigi Jacobs to enter that pitch!
Keep in contact, will you? We all miss you. Mom’s going crazy. Bought cheese curds yesterday to remind herself of you.
Gabby and Ethan
I felt like I should be tearing up at this, but I wasn’t. I was so close to my family that it had been one of the hardest things to leave Wisconsin. The Meteorites are based out of Canada, so apparition was possible. I had lived close to the rest of my family. No one had moved more than ten miles away from one another, so now that I was across the ocean, everything felt like it was changing.
“What’s that?” Adam asked, peering at me over his playbook. I tucked the letters into my pocket.
“Nothing. Just letters from home.” I told him, watching him go back to scanning the playbook with a furrowed brow. “What now?”
“I just…” he turned the playbook upside-down. “Which one am I again?”
I groaned and reached over, snatching the playbook from him. He was the keeper, it wasn’t like it was hard to distinguish. I pointed at the blue X moving on the left-hand side of the drawing, next to the hoops.
“Right there.” I pointed. “You see, I don’t understand how you cannot understand hovering at different goalposts for certain plays. Your job is not hard!”
“And I don’t understand how you are so weak,” Adam hissed back. I crossed my arms, pulling my grandmother’s quilt tighter around me.
“If you are going to be so bitter, I will not help you.” I growled. This proceeded to him throwing the rather large playbook at my head. I caught it at my fingertips.
“Freeman!” I shouted, throwing the book back at him in malice. He caught it with ease, laughing at my pitiful attempt.
“You really do need those weight lifting exercises!” He said between laughs. I sat there, dumbfounded, while he continued to laugh.
“I do not!” I growled. This seemed to make him laugh harder. Great, now I was a joke to him.
There was a knock at the door as Adam continued to laugh at me. “Don’t worry, I’ll get it,” I mumbled, pushing myself off of the couch. I wrapped the blanket securely around me before opening the door.
A tall blonde stood in the door, towering over me. Hey, it wasn’t my fault I was only five foot five! I blame my parents for being short. To make matters worse, she was wearing heels. Her jean shorts wrapped around her bottom, showing off her excessively long, tanned legs. She was wearing the smallest tank top I’ve ever seen, I was pretty sure it was in child sizes. She was shockingly beautiful- at least as beautiful as one would assume of a stripper.
At least that was what I assumed she was.
“Did Freeman call you here? Freeman, why couldn’t you call them to your own flat?!” I hissed in his direction. He looked up from his spot on my floor and immediately jumped at the sight of the girl in the doorway. His eyes were the size of quaffles (I make this analogy a lot…but quaffles are big!).
“Matt told me you were up here, Adam!” the girl chirped, smiling at Adam. Adam wiped his hand over his face, seemingly wiping a smile onto it. It was incredibly forced. This was interesting.
“Y-yeah…thought I’d visit Gigi here…I thought I told you I was busy today, Amelia?” Adam’s voice was so high pitched that I would’ve thought he was going through puberty. I didn’t bother to hide my unattractive snort. Both sent me a glare.
“You’re Genevieve Jacobs? The new chaser?” She seemed very offended by this. She looked me up and down. I suddenly was very aware of the fact that I was wearing the things I had worn to practice today. I probably still smelled like I had rolled around with skunks.
“Erm..yes?” I was unsure how to answer her question. She pursed her lips in an unattractive fashion.
“Adam!” she whined, stomping her foot on the ground. I raised an eyebrow at him. He cringed at her voice. “You said she wasn’t pretty!”
I blinked a few times. I should take that as a compliment, right? Well, I was going to. Except that Adam had said I wasn’t pretty. That was a bit insulting.
“Look Amelia, I’m really busy right now-“
“I don’t care how busy you are. It’s time to take me out to eat!” she chirped again. I had to cringe at this, it was a bit ridiculous. It was never what she said, but how she said it that irked me. It was just her voice that did me in.
It was like watching a muggle soap opera. Grandma had gotten me into them. There was so much drama, you just couldn’t look away. I was tempted to conjure up some popcorn and sit on my couch and laugh at Adam’s misfortune. His smirk told me that I should probably keep watching. Except there was a sparkle in his eyes and I saw them flash over me.
Oh, no. He had something horrible up his sleeves. Something definately not good.
“You’ve just been spending so much bloody time with this girl! You’d think the two of you were shagging or something,” she mumbled, crossing her arms like a child. I had to blink to make sure this was real.
Yes, it definitely was.
“That’s because we are.” Adam said simply. Not only did Amelia gasp, so did I. I gasped so hard, I started to violently cough.
“What?” both Amelia and I said in unison. I could feel Amelia’s glare on me, but I didn’t care.
Let me get one thing straight: Adam and I are not “shagging” (I had figured out this meant doing the dirty). We weren’t even friends with benefits! We weren’t even friends! I was his teammate who felt it was necessary to make sure he knew the plays. He was my teammate who needed me to have a stronger arm so we could win games. That was it. So you can understand my shock at his words.
“Oh love, you don’t have to hide what we do. Nothing to be ashamed of.” Adam came forward, wrapping an arm around me. I was shocked, dumbfounded even. I was unsure how to react to him claiming we were shagging.
“Oh you two are disgusting!” Amelia hissed, stomping towards the door. I stared at her, my jaw slacked. This couldn’t be real, could it? Adam nuzzled his face into my neck when Amelia turned around. “Don’t think this is over!”
She slammed the door shut, knocking my framed jersey off of the wall, sending it to the ground with a crash. I barely cringed. Adam re-coiled his arm from around my neck and groaned, throwing himself on to my couch.
“I just can’t get rid of her, can I?” Adam asked rhetorically. Was I in a soap opera? Was that what Britain was? First I sleep with a teammates cousin and now apparently I’m sleeping with a teammate. Except the last one was a lie.
“You lied!” I gasped. He looked at me with an eye roll. Well, that wasn’t what I was trying to convey with my words (I was a compulsive liar myself). “I mean…I wouldn’t sleep with you…ever!”
“Oh you would. Everyone would.” Adam said with way too much confidence. I picked up a decorative pillow and smashed him in the head with it. “Ouch! Don’t take offense, Jacobs! I was only joking!”
“About me having sex with you!” I hissed at him, smacking him with the pillow again. When will these boys learn? I felt more like their mother than their teammate.
“Aha! So it is true! I thought Amelia was just going crazy or something.” James exclaimed, bursting through the door. I threw my arms up in frustration, smacking Adam with the pillow again.
“Ow! He’s the one who said it, not me!” Adam screamed, covering his head.
“It’s all your fault he even thinks that!” I hit him with the pillow again for good measure.
“Oh so you’re not?” James asked, spreading himself out on my loveseat.
“No!” I told him, flopping down next to Adam on the couch. “Do you know how to knock, James?”
”Yes,” he told me, a large smile on his face. “I just prefer not to.”
“’Course not,” I mumbled.
That was when I heard pounding yet again. Except this time it didn’t sound like it was on my own door. It sounded further off, but I couldn’t place my finger on where it was coming from. James had the same look on his face that I surely did, as did Matt.
“Is that coming from your flat, James?” Matt asked. James shrugged, pushing himself off my loveseat and over towards the door. He stuck his head out and proceeded to shout to whoever was making the noise.
“Oi! You lot! I’m in here!” he shouted. There was a lot of laughter of all sorts coming from the hallway. I raised my eyebrows at Matt.
“He’s got a big family. They’re close, so they’re here a lot.” Matt answered my nonverbal question. Maybe he was getting smarter.
Suddenly, people were filing into my flat. It was big, but how big did James think it was? There was Fred, him I greeted with a glare. A small, gorgeous red-head filed in behind him. Another red-head, looking more sophisticated than the first, came in next. Yet another red-headed girl filed in after the first two, looking younger than the lot. A boy looking just like James came in, supporting large rimmed glasses.
“Oh my goodness!” the gorgeous red-head squealed. She was staring straight at me, a huge grin on her face. “I’ve read so much about you! You’re such an amazing player!”
“Who, me?” I asked her. I glanced around to see if Matt was behind me or something and if he was looking at him by accident.
“Of course! You’re my role model!” the girl threw herself at me, wrapping me in a hug. “Rose, you need to get a picture of me with her!”
The sophisticated red-head rolled her eyes, mouthing a “sorry” to me before snapping a picture on her portable camera. I had to blink at the flash. I would never get used to that. James grabbed the girl next to me by the arm, yanking her away. I felt ten times better than I had in a while. I had a fan!
“Well, this is my sister Lily.” He gestured to my fan. I smiled at her, which made her grin widen.
“Pleasure!” she said before I had a chance to speak up. She took my hand, shaking it vigorously.
“You know Fred.“ Matt, James, and Fred shared a smirk. “this is Rose-“ he gestured towards the sophisticated red-head. “-she’s my cousin. This is Roxanne, Fred’s sister and my other cousin-“ he pointed at the smallest red-head. “And my brother, Albus.”
“Nice to meet you all.” I said, waving awkwardly. No way in hell would I remember all of their names.
“You don’t have to remember our names. There’s far too many of us to do that. Matt over here just calls us all ‘Red’,” Rose told me. Oh thank Merlin, there was no way I would be able to keep it all straight.
“Except don’t call me red,” Albus grumbled. I smirked at him, crossing my arms, ready to dig into him.
“You might be the only one I want to call red.” I told him. He noticed my smirk and smiled at me in tern.
“Oi, don’t flirt with my little brother. He’s only twenty!” I felt James nudge my side and laughed.
“My first and only love is Quidditch.” I told him. James seemed relieved at this to which I shoved him. He barely moved.
“So d’you got a boyfriend yet, Red?” Adam asked, coming up next to Rose. Rose scoffed, rolling her eyes at him.
“Yes. I do.” She said matter-of-factly.
“What?!” it seemed all of James’s family responded to this. Rose’s face went as red as her hair at this.
Really, I must be in a muggle soap opera at the rate this is going. I glanced around to see if there were cameras watching me. No, but it sure as hell felt like it. Adam looked at me with raised eyebrows, obviously just as confused as I was. He joined me at my side as we watched.
Was Rose not supposed to have a boyfriend? It was obvious that none of them knew. Why had she chosen to drop that kind of bomb while in my flat?! Rose was gorgeous, were they really that surprised that she found herself a boyfriend? I wouldn’t be surprised if she was hiding it all along.
“It’s not him, is it?” James asked, his hands tensing at his sides. Rose looked ready to turn into a cherry…or maybe into her hair. She seemed to be trying to hide behind it anyways.
“Should we get some popcorn?” Adam whispered, to which I smacked him.
This was a rather funny situation….but I had a feeling I shouldn’t laugh.
“James Potter, it is none of your business!” Rose chirped, her voice mocking that of Amelia’s. Whoever this “him” was, I’m pretty sure she was dating him.
“It is him!” Lily shouted, though she looked more amused than James and Fred did. James looked ready to rip “his” read off, as Fred looked…well, like Fred.
“So what? So what if it’s him? I’m twenty; I can make my own decisions!” Rose hissed, glaring at both Fred and James.
“Does Uncle Ron know?” Fred asked. This caused Rose to pale.
“N-no…but I’m sure he’ll be okay with it!” Rose didn’t look too sure of her words.
“I need to meet him.” James crossed his arms, daring Rose to say differently.
”Isn’t that a job for Hugo?” Roxanne asked. James glared at her words. I wasn’t aware there was so many more in the family. Until now.
“Hugo would agree to have me meet him.” James was still staring at Rose.
“You’ve met him before.” Rose tried. James let out a harsh laugh.
“Not as your…boyfriend.” James looked ready to spit up the word. I raised an eyebrow, but stayed out of the conversation. This was in between family. I shifted nervously.
“Fine…but only under one condition.” Rose told him, a smirk covering her face.
Rose was looking directly at me. James turned his gaze to me as well. Oh shit, what do I do? Were they really talking about me? There was no way in hell I was going to go on a double date with James and his cousin and mystery boy! I was here to play Quidditch, damn it! No way. No way in hell was I going to-
“Deal.” James cut off my thoughts.
“Excuse me?” I squeaked.
“Fine. Tomorrow night. Meet us at the Leaky Cauldron.” Rose hissed at him. I opened my mouth, but Rose turned towards me before I had the chance to say anything. “It was lovely meeting you, Gigi. I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?”
Before I had a chance to even say ‘goodbye’, she was gone.
“You know, you could let me take Gigi,” I heard Albus say. I spun around, glaring at Albus now. I wasn’t even going!
“Bloody hell, no.” James answered before I could make a comment.
“Potter, I am not doing this!” I hissed at him, finally finding my opening to say something.
“Why not?” James asked. I scoffed.
“I’m just…not!” I fumbled. Okay, so I didn’t have a particular reason. “I’m not playing all of your mothers!”
That seemed like a good reason.
“Come on, Gigi! I need your help. This guy is absolutely horrible for her and I need to rip him apart.” James looked ready to get down on his hands and knees.
“Fine, I will-“
“Thank you!” James engulfed me in a hug, almost cutting off my oxygen.
“Wait! You haven’t heard the terms!” I shrieked as he lifted me off the ground. He set me down, taking a step back. The smile on his face almost made me feel guilty for setting terms. Almost.
Now he was just kissing ass. I liked it.
“You make sure I get every shot during the Magpie game. I need that center spot.” I told him. His face seemed to freeze as he contemplated this.
“You make us lose and I’ll never let you live it down, Jacobs.” James warned me. I smiled at him, taking my turn to hug him tightly.
Author's Note: So I know my chapters have so many different lengths. I was going to post the next chapter for Letters to L.C, but this one was already written so I couldn't resist!
Let me know what you think. Comments? Concerns? Ideas? Anything is welcome. I love hearing what everyone has to say.
Until next time, loves.
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.
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 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.
“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.
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.
“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!”
“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.
Author's Note: Can I make a disclaimer, here? I don't own any of this wondefulness. The only thing I own is Gigi. Everything else is from the wondeful mind of J.K. Rowling, as I'm sure you know.
So tell me, what did you think of this chapter? Awkward wake up? Did Harry's reaction to James shock you? Explain some things i left missing in the last chapter? I hope so! And now we have to meet Gigi's family! Should be very interesting.
Next chapter preview: Heart-to-heart with Harry and Gigi; A Quidditch Banquet; meeting the Harpies.
If there is one thing that is a big deal to the Quidditch Association (other than the actual games themselves), it is their banquets. There are two held each year. Every single team was invited. The first was the opening Quidditch Banquet. This consisted of everyone meeting each other. Rookies were introduced by the team managers to the rest of the teams. Captains were announced. They served a lot of food. Quidditch players dressed up in their nicest dress robes and press was a frenzy. Well, at least that’s how I saw it from the American side of the banquet hall. I’m sure the real stars got far more attention than what I’m leading on.
Tonight was the opening Quidditch Banquet. Sally had ordered my dress robes (I had approved them) months ago. Everyone had been talking about the banquet for weeks. Ever since I had come to England people seemed to find it necessary to bring up the banquet. You could be eating dinner and someone would bring it up. You could be taking a piss and someone would ask if you were going. Only the elite (and the pathetic teams) went.
“Ouch that hurts!” I yelped at the stylist who was twisting my hair around her wand. She sighed at me, shooting me a dirty look in the mirror.
“Are you almost done?” James whined from my couch. He was dressed in his dark grey dress robes, his hair a natural mess. The stylist had offered to put something in his hair to tame it, but he quickly denied.
“Almost,” The stylist said through gritted teeth. Needless to say, we were getting on her nerves. You can’t blame me, though. She was really hurting me!
“Who has a banquet on a Monday night, anyways?” I asked, yelping slightly when I felt another tug. I was going to be bald if I wasn’t careful.
“Quidditch days are different than the rest of the world’s days,” James told me, staring up at the ceiling with little interest.
“There, I’m done,” the stylist said. I peered at my reflection. How had it taken her that long to just make my hair wrap around my face in curls? Sure, the make up did look pretty good, but I could’ve done that myself. I huffed, but rushed to get my dress on. I didn’t glance back at James. He’d have some smug comment to make.
My dress fell to the ground, brushing slightly against my toes. The fabric was silky soft (which was why I approved of it so fast). We were required to wear our team colors (which was a bitch when I had to wear bright orange for the Meteorites). My dress was dark grey with a large white flower on my left collar bone. The only strap was thick and wrapped around my left shoulder. The back was bare, but it was hot out! I’m sure everyone would understand. The heels were something I wasn’t prepared for. I wasn’t worried. My team would still be towering over me.
I checked my reflection in the wall-mirror opposite of me. James’s jaw had dropped when he had seen me. I liked making him drool. It seemed that everything was back to normal. It was as though we had never had sex. James had even cracked a joke about “shagging me by the end of the night if I was lucky”. I nervously chuckled at that. Nevertheless, everything seemed fine. My hair was in place and my dress hugged me in all the right ways. Thank you, Quidditch.
“Mr. Potter and Ms. Jacobs!” A wizard squeaked from behind his clipboard. His large mustache hid his mouth, but he was smiling at us. I think. “Your father is going to be your escort.”
The Quidditch Banquet was being held in a magically enhanced muggle warehouse. We had all been instructed to apparate into a safe house where an auror would escort us to the banquet. There were so many celebrities going to the banquet that they found this necessary. Only high-end teams were instructed to do this. I felt flattered that I was included. Then again, I still wasn’t used to the whole “famous” thing.
“Can’t we have another auror take us?” James asked, gritting his teeth. I felt his arm squeeze my hip. I winced against the pressure.
“No, I’m sorry. Since there are two players, he put it upon himself to escort the both of you,” the man told us, gesturing for us to go towards Mr. Potter, who was waiting at the door. James looked ready to throw a hissy fit.
“I’ll do all the talking, okay?” I told him, grabbing his hand and giving it a squeeze.
“Hello!” Mr. Potter said cheerfully. He was either a great actor or was used to putting the events of a few days ago behind him. I was betting the latter.
“Hi, Mr. Potter,” I said, giving him my best smile. James grunted at my side.
“Shall we?” He asked, opening the door for us to walk out. James was first out, shoving past his father. Mr. Potter looked affronted, but immediately hid it with a smile.
“How long of a walk is it?” I asked Mr. Potter as we took off down the street. I now understood why we needed escorts. I was afraid someone was going to jump out of the shadows at any second.
“Just a few blocks, nothing major,” He said, letting James walk a bit in front of us. I wasn’t sure if James could hear us or not. I thought I’d try it out.
“He just…he means well,” I told Mr. Potter. He sighed, nodding his head at me.
“He’s a lot like me: thick-headed….or so Ginny likes to tell us,” Mr. Potter told me, stuffing his hands in his pockets.
“I’m nothing like you!” James called back to us. Mr. Potter looked ready to retaliate, but thought better of it.
“I just want what’s best for him,” Mr. Potter mumbled, making sure I was the only one that heard him.
“You don’t think Quidditch is?” I questioned.
“It’s not that,” he said, running a hand through the little hair that he had on his head. James did that. “He’s my son. I want what he wants, but he just doesn’t realize what he deserves.”
“And what does he deserve?” I asked, crossing my arms. It’s harder than it looks when you’re walking.
“He deserves to be happy. He deserves everything, Genevieve,” Mr. Potter emphasized.
“Call me Gigi,” I told him. Did people not get that I hated my full name?
“I’ll call you Gigi when you start calling me Harry,” He said, a smirk playing on his lips. Oh, touché.
“Well, Harry, James seems pretty happy to me,” I said, watching as James fluffed his hair in a store window. He was more of a girl than me.
“That’s because of you. Before you came here, he was all about Quidditch. He didn’t let himself enjoy anything else. Now, I actually see him getting out and enjoying the little things. Call me the pushy father, but I don’t think he should give that up. He shouldn’t give you up,” Harry told me, watching James as well as he looked to be mumbling things to himself.
“No, it’s not me that’s doing all of that to him. Trust me,” I told him, holding my hands up in innocence. It couldn’t be because of me. This was all fake. All of it. I felt the familiar pang of guilt as I saw the down-cast face of Harry staring at James, watching him intently.
“I wouldn’t be all too sure, Gigi,” Harry said, a small chuckle escaping his lips. “He’s falling for you.”
I didn’t respond. I didn’t have words. I’m sure it was his dream for his son to find someone, but that someone wasn’t me. I’m sure James would find love someday; he was an attractive guy. The guilt began to itch at me again. For some reason, I felt the need to tell Harry what was going on. Was he a leglimens? You’d think from all that he’s done, he would be that powerful. I guess I won’t question it (though I really would like to). He would’ve known about James and I’s scam by now.
“Are you two coming or not?” James asked in an irritated tone. The dim lights of the streets began to get brighter, so I knew we were getting close. I rushed to James’s side, knowing I had to be seen attached to his hip. I felt rather pathetic, but I guess it’s what you do in this business. Harry cleared his throat, gesturing towards the mangy looking warehouse door. The building looked like it was ready to collapse on itself. The windows were boarded up and the door was rusted all around. Magic, don’t let me down now.
“I’ll see the pair of you after,” he told us, opening the door. When I peered inside, I wasn’t ready for what I saw.
The whole place was booming. There was cameras flashing every which way and everyone was just so beautiful. People were laughing and chatting with one another. There was an extravagant chandelier hanging over us once we entered. The marble floors made my heels click as we stepped onto it. The place was magicked larger, but I still didn’t feel like there was enough room for everyone. There were so many celebrities and so many different press people that I felt almost suffocated. If I were claustrophobic, this would not be my scene.
I was about to be pulled forward by James when it seemed everyone took a notice to us. Cameras began flashing in my eyes and reporters began to yell things at me. It was worse than my press conference when I joined the Falcons. James placed his arm around my hip, pulling me closer to him. I may have felt safer, but nothing could protect me from these vultures.
“Just smile and nod, yeah?” James whispered in my ear. A cool tickle went down my back as goosebumps formed on my skin. I flushed slightly, but nodded as I let a small smile form on my lips. I heard a lot of shouts about ‘marriage’ and press asking me if I was pregnant, but James seemed to know exactly what to say. I was eternally greatful.
“Now, now leave them alone! I told you all you could be here, but that does not mean I do not have authority to throw you out on your arses!” a man shouted. Immediately the press scattered. The man that came forward made my heart stop and a gasp escape my lips. It was the president of the Quidditch Commission. He had taken it over once his father had passed a few years ago. He was known for his charming white smile and his tanned skin. His black hair flipped over his hazel eyes as he came towards James and I. I swear, my heart stopped beating.
“Mr. Daniels!” James called in an enthusiastic voice, shaking his hand. It seemed the two were already acquainted.
“James you know you can tell the press to sod off, right? Don’t always have to let them give you the fifth degree,” he said to James in a joking tone. James flashed him his own smile.
“You know I like the attention,” James said. They both laughed. I let my own nervous laugh mingle in.
“And you must be Genevieve Jacobs!” he turned towards me, surveying my outfit. My voice became lodged in my throat. “I’ve heard so much about you! Amazing game against Puddlemere last week!”
“Thanks,” I squeaked. James looked down at me with a confused look. My face grew hotter as I studied the marble floor.
“No need to be shy, love. You’re family now,” Ethan Daniels, the man voted most eligible bachelor, said. I nodded, but still was unable to speak. This was unbelievable.
“We better go find the boys. Matt probably got his head stuck in the punch bowl again,” James laughed, pulling me away from Ethan Daniels (yes, it is necessary to say his full name).
“We just talked to Ethan Daniels,” I stated.
“Yup,” James said, popping the ‘p’.
“He complimented me,” I stated again, a large grin forming on my face that wouldn’t go away.
“You’re going to hear that a lot tonight,” James said, peering over by the punch bowl to make sure Matt hadn’t dunked his head in. No sign of Matt.
“From who?” I questioned. James looked at me with a shocked expression.
“You’ve been to one of these before, haven’t you?” He asked. I shuffled my feet. Of course I had. Except I was by all the other Americans. Press didn’t go over there. Not even other teams went over there.
“Don’t be stupid,” I told him. He laughed, pulling me closer into him as a few people from the Cannons walked by. They were known for being perverted.
“Right, you were on an American team before,” James said, smirking at me. I hit his shoulder.
“Nothing wrong with that!” I defended. He snorted very unattractively.
“Yeah, nothing wrong with it if you’re American,” James emphasized. I was about to hit him again when I heard a girlish shriek and someone embraced James, nearly shoving me on my ass. I pretty much ate her blonde hair.
“Oh my god, James! Did you get more fit? I think so,” the girl said, grabbing onto James’s arm and giving it a good squeeze. James loved the attention (of course), so I saw him flex. A blush began to creep up my neck. The girl was gorgeous and supporting a black, very short, gown. Her blonde hair flowed down her back and seemed to have its own glow. She was probably part veela. That’s why James was looking at her like that.
“Course I did, love. Had to stay looking amazing,” James joked. The girl giggled, lightly tapping James on the shoulder. He grinned at her giggle. I felt immediate irritation towards her. I coughed rather loudly. James’s eyes were glazed over when they came into contact with me. I raised my eyebrows and I saw the blush form on his cheeks.
“Oh! Right! Er-Michelle, this is my…er, Gigi,” James said. The tall blonde, Michelle apparently, turned towards me. Her expression immediately fell as she studied me. I felt short and more importantly, I felt extremely unattractive. I shuffled my feet, but felt extremely determined to stand my ground.
“Oh you’re the new Falcon, right?” She asked in a patronizing tone. I clenched my jaw. It was girls like this that made me start fighting back at Salem.
“Yes, I am,” I said, going around her and linking my arm in James’s. He seemed slightly reluctant, but let me do so.
“And James’s new girl, correct?” she asked, but she was looking at James, not me.
“Yeah,” James mumbled. I stomped on his foot when Michelle wasn’t looking. He let out a small grunt, glaring at me. I glared straight back. At least he could pretend to be enthusiastic to be dating me.
“Well, I’m sure you know who I am, then,” she said, flipping her hair over her shoulder. Honestly, I hadn’t a clue who she was. I studied her, trying to pull up her face in my head.
“No, I don’t,” I told her honestly. James snorted at my side, but didn’t intervene. Michelle’s pale face grew a bit of color.
“Well, I’m Germany’s head cheerleader,” she explained. Ah, so she was a Veela. “And I dated James last year.”
I felt like someone had slapped me. I suppose James and I hadn’t talked about past relationships, but to have this sprung on me was a bit shocking. I wish I would’ve had a little bit of warning. I felt my jaw clench as I stared at her. Had he really kissed her? He had kissed me. He had had sex with me. Which he probably did with her. Which he probably meant to do. I felt the familiar pang of guilt again.
“Oh?” Was all that came out of my mouth. She smirked at this, a small victory for her. Whatever. I could beat her on the pitch. Was that what James wanted, though?
“Well, nice to see you, James!” Michelle chirped, kissing James on the cheek. “And nice meeting you, Jay-jay.”
“It’s-“ I started, but she was gone. James was staring off after her. I scoffed in disgust.
“What?” he asked. I smacked his shoulder and he flinched.
“You didn’t tell me you dated a veela!” I hissed in a low voice. He shrugged as though it was nothing.
“Don’t take it to heart, love. Every male has his eyes on her. She’s using her powers,” another female voice said. Except when I let my eyes fall on this woman, I recognized her right away. Her short blonde hair and the scar right below her jawbone were so distinct, you’d be stupid if you didn’t know who she was.
“You’re Erlah Cosgove,” I stated. She laughed at me, but nodded.
“And you’re Gigi Jacobs. The pleasure’s all mine,” she stuck her hand out. Flabbergasted, I shook hers.
“How are the Harpies doing?” James asked, finally bringing himself into the conversation.
“Well, the Falcons are doing better. You sure your mum doesn’t want to play for us again?” Erlah asked. James laughed, but shook his head. I don’t think I could play against Ginny. The minute I shoved myself into her I’d feel horrible.
“I think she’s getting too old for this stuff,” James chuckled.
“Worth a shot,” Erlah said with a shrug.
“So did you come here to find out our plays or are you trying to steal my girlfriend from me?” James asked. I nervously laughed as Erlah chuckled. It was common knowledge that most of the Harpies did more than just play Quidditch together.
“She’s pretty and all, but I’ll leave her to you,” Erlah winked at me and I felt my face flush. “Everyone wants to get a good look at the new Falcon. She’s big news.”
”I am?” I questioned. She nodded at me and when I glanced around, I actually did notice a few eyes on me. It felt oddly good.
“I’ve only been telling you that since we got here,” James said, reaching up to ruffle my hair (a habit he had picked up). I slapped his hand away before he got the chance.
“You two are so cute together!” Erlah said, a big grin spreading on her face. Neither James or I looked at each other. I felt the heat on my neck and rubbed it. It was still odd for us to hear that compliment. No matter how true it was.
“Thanks,” James managed to mumble.
“Oh, before I forget…“ Erlah reached onto a tray that was floating passed and pulled two wine glasses off, “Welcome to the European Quidditch Association. A large step up from A.Q.A.”
She raised her glass to my own and clinked. I watched her as I sipped the wine, but she downed the whole thing in one gulp. Should I try to do that too? I did, tipping my head back slightly. Unfortunately, it went down the wrong pipe. I nearly dropped the glass as I began to cough violently. James smacked me on the back, to which he received a punch to the stomach as I doubled over.
“Love, you’re going to be getting these all night. I wouldn’t try to down them all if I were you or you’ll be drunker than a skunk,” Erlah told me, laughing as she walked away. I straightened up, my eyes watering. James was looking at me with amusement.
“Well aren’t you just a charming date,” I mumbled. He looked at me with confusion as I rolled my eyes.
“Oi! Love birds!” I heard the familiar call from Matt. Matt was waving his hands around violently, gesturing for us to come towards him. As we did, the room suddenly spun around. I felt my legs go out front under me as a chair pulled me directly into a table. I gasped in shock as James slid next to me, Matt on my left. They had equally shocked expressions. As I looked around the room, it seemed I wasn’t the only person shocked. Everyone was now sitting at a round table, a banner from each team hanging above the respective tables.
“That was awesome!” Adam called, smacking his hands on the table in excitement.
“Glad you thought so, Mr. Freeman,” a voice responded, booming over the whole banquet hall. We all turned to see Ethan Daniels standing on a stage-like podium. He beamed at everyone as they laughed at Adam’s expense.
“To our rookies: welcome! To our players: welcome back! We here at the Quidditch Commission picture this year to be the best yet!” Daniel said, as everyone clapped in agreement. “Now, let’s start off this banquet with a bang. Let’s start off with the American Quidditch Association. Respective managers please make your way to the stage as well.”
Slowly, about five managers made their way towards the stage, a big plump man leading them. I even saw the small frame of the Meteorite’s manager. He absolutely loved me. He had actually cried when he saw the Falcon’s manager at our final game of the season. I smiled to myself, but clapped at appropriate times. Each team introduced rookies and again, we clapped respectively. I remembered being up there my first time. I nearly peed myself when I looked out at the crowd. I glanced around to notice no one was really paying attention. James was poking Chris in the side with one of the forks in front of him. I had to elbow him in the gut to get him to stop. Apparently Chris’s threats of death weren’t enough.
Next came the Australian Quidditch Association which everyone seemed to turn away from. People clapped at the proper times, but it seemed that more eyes were set on the European teams around. I felt guilty, but I didn’t bother to pay much attention myself. Hey, Australian Quidditch Players are boring. It seemed that everyone was awaiting the European Quidditch Association to go up. When I say everyone, I mean it. Cameras were at the ready as the last Association left the stage. I held my breath as the European Quidditch Association made their way to the stage. I felt James squeeze my hand under the table. Matt smacked me on the shoulder extremely hard. My stomach hit the table from the force, but I didn’t care.
“Let’s start out with the Great Britain and Ireland League, shall we?” Ethan Daniels stated. Thirteen managers stepped forward. Mr. Collins, our team manager, was amongst them, beaming with such pride. He was staring at our table, grinning from ear to ear. I would’ve smiled back, but I felt my stomach flip with nerves. Everyone’s eyes would be on me. Being on a pitch is different. You don’t see all the stares and hear the whispers. I could see and hear them now.
They went in alphabetical order. People were paying the utmost attention. These were the rookies and captains you would see on the front cover of magazines and the people playing for the international teams come spring. I was amazed at the size and talent I saw. Anyone who had made a name for themselves was standing before us, a smirk or smile placed on their faces. People cheered unnecessarily loud and cameras lit up the whole stage. The Arrows had three rookies. The Ballycastle Bats had four. The Catapults had two. The Cannons (which James nearly jumped out of his seat to see their captain) had none. I held my breath as Mr. Collins waddled to the podium.
“As the manager of the Falmouth Falcons, I had to find the best talent to replace Harley Chilton. Now I went all the way to America to find that talent and I think we did a damn good job at replacing Harley!” Mr. Collins built up. My stomach flipped as a few people cheered in agreement. “We have one new chaser this year and she will be making history, I’ll tell you that. Gigi Jacobs, come on up!”
I felt like my legs were going to give out from underneath me. Flashes blinded me as I made my way to my feet. James gave me a little tap on the butt. People all around laughed at it, but I felt my face flush with embarrassment. I nearly crashed into the Wasps’s table. When I finally made it to the stage, I gasped in shock. From up here, you could see every single famous person in the history of Quidditch. I even saw Harley Chilton sitting at the front most table with fellow retirees. I nearly collapsed into a puddle. Mr. Collins wrapped his arm around me as people cheered and clapped loudly. I thought my eardrums were going to fall out.
“We have also had to replace our captain this year. This man has been with our team for a few years and has already showed how dedicated he is to the game. Now, Gigi, don’t get too excited. Just because he’s your boyfriend doesn’t mean he’s not going to treat you like rookie,” the whole room laughed at Mr. Collins. I nervously chuckled. I was still in shock. “James Potter!”
James sauntered to the stage, smirking as cameras flashed in his face. He seemed far too used to it, because he didn’t even flinch. He patted Harley Chilton’s back as he walked passed him. James slapped a few people’s hands who reached out. It was like he was a superstar. I guess he sort of is. Everyone looks up to him. I found myself smiling as he took the steps two at a time to get on the stage. He shook Mr. Collins hand and before I knew it, he stepped over towards me, grabbing my face and slamming his lips onto mine.
I froze, unsure of how to react. His lips were ridiculously soft upon my lips. His hands were softer than I expected on the back of my neck. I felt a flutter in my stomach. A few people wolf-whistled and a lot of people cheered. James pulled away, not meeting eye contact as he smiled at the other teams. The kiss barely lasted a few seconds, but my lips were still tingling as James grabbed my hand and pulled me off the stage and into our seats. He practically carried me to our seats.
“What the hell was that?” I whispered harshly to James as eyes seemed to finally fall off of us. I flipped my hair out of my eye. James studied my expression. I saw a small tint of red in his cheeks, but it easily could’ve been from the heat of the lights on our faces.
“Made us look more like a couple,” James whispered back, leaning far too close to my face. His breath tickled my neck and I leaned away from him in a huff. It wasn’t the fact that he had kissed me that bothered me. It was what I felt while sitting here, the tingle of my lips and the flutter of my stomach, that bothered me so much.
I was never afraid of much while I was growing up. I wasn’t afraid of the dark. I wasn’t afraid of the boogyman underneath my bed. I definitely wasn’t afraid of heights. My family taught me to be strong and to fight. It is the Jacobs way. All Jacobs were strong and dominant people. Yet, there is always something I will be terrified. That thing is bringing someone home to my family.
I am extremely close to all my family. No one lived more than fifteen minutes away from each other back in the states. The closest someone got to moving away was when Gabby and Ethan moved to Iowa for three months. She thought it was the end of the world. We used to get together every Sunday and spend the whole day together. We are a small family, but insanely close. All while I was little, my cousins lived in my backyard, quite literally. My grandma lived across the river. Before I moved, Gabby lived about five miles north, while Jenny lived five miles south. I lived down the street from my parents. I’m always a child at heart.
That’s why it was so hard for me to sign with the Falcons. Sure, the money was amazing and I had always wanted to play for a big name team, but it costed me a lot more to leave all that family behind. My sisters were my best friends. My parents were my confidants. My grandmother was my conscience. My nephew was my youth. It was like I had everything right in my tight knit family. Wisconsin didn’t have a million people like most states, so your best friends really did have to be close to your heart.
The thing about bringing someone home to the family is this: they have to be very serious. You cannot bring someone into the Jacob’s household if you have only been dating them for a month. You do not bring someone home who you’ve only had a fling with. Since we are so close, we are very protective. My mom acts like you are attacking her cubs. My dad threatens to take out the shotgun (which he doesn’t own). My sisters bombard you with questions. I admit, I’ve done it too. My nephew asks if you are going to give him a cousin. It gets a bit hectic. It has been a general rule not to introduce a guy to our family unless you are serious about him.
This is why I felt like I was betraying my family. We were more than family, we were friends. You may lie to your family, but you don’t lie to friends. I was having great difficulty finding the right words to say to myself in the mirror. I stared at my reflection. I had been doing it for a good half hour. I could hear the lies pouring from my tongue. They would all see right through me. Carter would kick me in the shin (he did that when he was mad at people).
“Guys, this is James….my boyfriend,” I tried the dramatic pause, but ended up sounding too cliché. I groaned, smacking my head lightly against the mirror. I couldn’t do this. Put me in any other situation than this. I have taken multiple bludgers to the head in my life, but nothing compares to this.
I have never brought a boyfriend home.
I have always been so wrapped up in Quidditch that I never found the need. Back in school, I was a joke to most people. I was the youngest Jacob. I got called Little Jacob by just about everyone. Gabby was the protégée, the smart girl in the family. Jenny was the beauty, the one guys drooled after. When I had entered, people had expected the cream of the crop, but ended up getting dull old Genevieve. Just as dull as my name.
I don’t like to think about school. It brings back bad memories.
I shook my head, running a brush through my hair one more time. Carter may be four, but he still pulled your hair like there was no tomorrow. He thought it was funny. Until I pulled his hair back. I got into too many rows with Jenny about pulling his hair back. Maybe he shouldn’t do it first!
“Gigi?” I heard James call from my doorway. I peeked around my doorway, feeling the panic rise in me. James being here meant my family was arriving soon. Fifteen minutes to be exact.
“I can’t do this,” I said. James saw the panicked expression on my face and sighed. He crossed the room in a few strides and grabbed onto my shoulders, making me face him.
“It’s going to be fine. Your family is going to love me. I’ll be charming and even hit on your mum a bit, yeah?” James said, trying to get a smile out of me. It didn’t work. In fact, it panicked me more.
“Do not hit on my mom! My dad will rip your head off!” I shrieked, collapsing onto my loveseat. This was going to be a disaster. I could already hear my father threatening James with the shotgun (which I must clarify: Does not exist).
“Who am I supposed to hit on, then?” James asked, actually confused by not getting to hit on someone. I groaned into the side of my couch, ready to peel away the expensive leather and crawl in and never come out. Maybe that way I wouldn’t have to deal with this catastrophe that is meeting my family.
I looked up at the clock. Five minutes. When the hell did the clock move that fast?!
I jumped up from my seat, straightening out anything I could find. I straightened my jersey on the wall, making sure it sat perfectly in the center. I placed the cookies Meme had made for me out on the counter. I had even charmed the apartment to smell like the cookies. I had made my bed so that you could bounce a quarter off of it perfectly. Every dish and every corner of my flat was sparkling.
Damn it. Merlin, zap me out of here, will you?
“Can I have a cookie?” James asked, staring down at the plate of cookies and nearly getting his drool on them.
“No!” I slapped his hand away before he could grab one. He pulled back, looking extremely offended at me.
“What’s got your wand in such a big knot?” James mumbled. I frowned at him, choosing not to answer. He could be pretty thick some times.
Then came the noise I was waiting for all day. The chime of the doorbell. I looked at the clock. Spot on two o’clock. How that happened, I’ll never know. Jacobs were never on time. This meant business. I paled, unable to move my feet towards the door. It chimed again, this time slightly more urgent.
“Want me to get it?” James asked, mouth full of cookies. I shook my head, uprooting myself from my spot. I slowly made my way towards the door.
“If my dad tells you he’s got a shotgun, dismiss it,” I said, taking one last look at James to see him spit out all the cookies in a violent cough.
“What?!” He shrieked before I pulled open the door.
I was greeted by a very loud shriek. Then suddenly, I was blinded. It took me a second to realize I had a sister attached to me, her hair threatening to suffocate me. Leave it to Jenny to get hair extensions in the month that I’m gone. She pulled away from me and I got a good look at her.
Her long brown hair reached her mid back. She had thick streaks of blonde in it that must be new. Her brown eyes glowed as she looked at me from behind her thick eyelashes. Her small beauty mark was still right below her eye. Right where I remembered it. She had always been fit, but she looked like she had lost another five pounds. She looked good.
I saw my other sister, Gabby, behind her. Her red hair looked like it hadn’t grown since the last time I had seen her. It rest on her shoulders, straight as a pin needle. Freckles still looked like they had been attacking her face. Her thick rimmed glasses slid down her nose a little bit, but she pushed them up and smiled at me, showing off perfectly straight white teeth. Her clothes were a lot more modest than Jenny’s. They were polar opposites.
My mom was with them, a bright grin on her face when she met my eyes. Her brown curly hair bounced on her shoulders as she enveloped me in a hug. I was met with the familiar scent of back home and nearly cried right on spot. She pulled back, the corner of her hazel eyes wrinkling as she smiled yet again. She was almost 55. She was strong though, I knew that much from the years.
Grandma was with them as well. Her dark brown hair was set on top of her head, barely a grey in sight. She had prominent wrinkles in her face and even more when she spotted me. Her skin was tan from being out in the sun, working on her large yard. For 87, she acted like she was 50. She owned her own house and insisted on doing all the yard work on her acre property. I recall apparating there a few times to make sure she was okay.
“Look at you, living in the lap of luxury!” Gabby said, stepping around me and into my apartment. I flushed slightly as the other three made their way in. They nearly all gasped in shock at the mere size of the place. We never had much money in my family, so this was a big step up from that.
“The Falcons own the whole complex,” I explained. No one seemed to be paying attention, but rather staring around at the nice furniture and the sky light. I even had a perfect view. Not that I’m bragging. Because I’m not.
“The boys are checking into the hotel. Thought they’d give you some air,” Mom explained, coming forward and wrapping her arms around me again. “I missed you,” she whispered into my hair.
“I missed you too,” I whispered back. She pulled away, smiling down at me.
“What’s that smell?” Grandma asked, sniffing the air. It seemed to draw everyone’s attention as they all turned towards the kitchen.
“Oh, I made some cookies!” I informed them, moving towards the spacious kitchen. When we entered it, I gasped upon finding James holding the plate with just crumbs left on it.
“Oh! Erm…hi,” James mumbled, crumbs flying from his mouth.
“James!” I scolded, grabbing the plate out of his hands and smacking his shoulder.
“Ouch!” He protested.
“Why did you eat all the damn cookies?” I asked him. He looked like he had just been caught stealing his parent’s wand.
“Oh don’t be so hard on the boy. It’s not like we actually believe you made them,” Grandma said. I gasped at her announcement, seeing her smiling at me oh-so-sweetly.
“Yeah, you suck at cooking,” Gabby said, smiling at me as I turned my glare on her. James snorted from behind me.
“Well, at least they know too,” He said as I turned my glare on him as well.
“Is it make fun of Gigi day?” I asked. They all nodded at me.
“So you must be James,” Jenny proclaimed, coming forward and shaking James’s hand. James’s face immediately reddened as he nodded at her, losing his words. I smirked at this. Jenny was the kind of girl that guys had librarian fantasies about. If you wanted the blatantly gorgeous sister, you looked at Gabby.
“Can’t say we’re super excited to meet you. Had to read about you in the papers,” Gabby said, sending me a scolding look. I nearly buckled under the pressure, ready to burst out what we really were, but bit my tongue and gave my best innocent smile.
“You get famous and forget all about the little people,” Jenny said, sighing dramatically. Gabby laughed, wrapping an arm around my shoulders. Though she was a few inches shorter than me, she still managed to do it.
“So what are your intentions with our dear little sister?” Gabby asked, staring straight at James, her face suddenly becoming serious. Mom laughed, moving away from the group and beginning to look around the apartment. Grandma followed her lead, not wanting to get involved in the sister interrogation.
“W-what?” James asked, backing himself up into my marble counter. I could see the look on his face. He wasn’t prepared for this. Sure, he probably had received countless threats from brothers, but never had he received the mind-fucking from a Jacobs girl. I winced for him.
“Are you serious about her?” Jenny re-worded Gabby’s question, coming up on my other side and crossing her arms.
“What kind of question is that?” James asked, looking at me for help. I shrugged at him. This was the one time I couldn’t help him.
“An easy one. We haven’t even gotten started yet, Potter,” Gabby said, smirking at him. James’s face paled upon hearing her words. I saw his adam’s apple bob.
“You see, this is our baby sister,” Jenny started, taking a step forward. I groaned as Gabby dropped her arm from around my shoulders and followed Jenny forward towards James in a menacing way.
“We protect her no matter what,” Gabby added, glaring at James for effect. It worked. I could practically see the sweat beating down his face. He was trapped, cornered. He had no place to run.
“If that means getting rid of miniscule Quidditch players, so be it,” Jenny said, flicking her hand for effect. I swear I heard James whimper.
“We’re Americans. We’re ruthless,” Gabby whispered, now so close to James that she could probably see the flecks of green I saw in his eyes. I shook the thought from my head.
“Got it?” Jenny asked. James nodded so quickly that I thought his head was going to snap off.
“Okay girls, knock it off,” Mom said, coming out of my bedroom. She turned to me and sighed. You know the sigh when you know your parents are disappointed in you? Yeah, it was that kind of sigh.
“What?” I asked her. Had she found something in my room that she shouldn’t have? Oh god, please don’t tell me she went in my bottom drawer.
“Gigi, we know.” Mom said. I frowned at her. I kind of figured they all knew about my bottom drawer. Hell, every adult girl had a ‘bottom drawer’ (don’t look at me like that, you know it’s true).
“You know what?” James asked, spinning around Jenny and Gabby and coming to my side. I saw him sigh in relief.
“We know you two are faking it,” Mom said, smiling at the pair of us. Gabby and Jenny bursted out laughing behind us, nearly doubling over onto the floor.
“Did you see his face?!” Jenny asked through fits of giggles.
“He looked like he was going to piss himself!” Gabby added, peeling over.
“Wait, how did you know?” I asked, rounding on my mom.
“It’s not like you’re the best liar, Gigi,” Jenny said, wiping the tears away from her eyes. James seemed to relax, hopping up onto my counter.
“Plus, we knew that if you were that serious about a guy that you’d let us meet him that it had to be a joke,” Gabby added. I frowned at this.
“You’ve never let us meet any of your boyfriends, honey,” Mom said, wrapping an arm around me.
That’s because I’ve never had a serious one.
I felt a pang swing across my chest, but brushed it off. I was in the company of my family. I wasn’t going to let minuscule things like that effect me. I had better things to worry about when I was younger. It’s why I am a Quidditch player and not a house wife.
Suddenly, my front door swung open and I heard the chatter of male voices. I turned, seeing my father come into view. His thick mustache looked exactly the same as I remembered. His black hair, flecked with greys in it looked like it had gotten more grey than before. His brown eyes sparkled when he saw me, but narrowed when he spotted James.
I saw Ethan next to him, his jolly smile making me laugh a little. He was perfect for Gabby. He was already balding at 32, but it worked for him. His thick glasses framed his round face. He was already getting a bit of a 50’s belly, but Gabby and Ethan were always older than their age. It made sense that they would be aging faster.
Before I could get it all in, I saw Carter sprinting towards me. He was taller than I remembered, even though it has only been a month. His blonde hair hit me in the face when I engulfed him in a hug. He smelt like sugar and juice. The perfect little kid mix. He squeezed me, nearly pulling the air straight out of me, but it was alright. I’d let him squeeze the air out of me any day.
“Auntie Gigi!” Carter squealed in my ear. I didn’t want to set him down, but I did. “Look! I’m just like you!”
I looked down at the shirt he was gesturing to and noticed my number on it and the Falcon logo in the corner. The black and silver gleamed on his chest. He spun around to reveal my name in large letters on his back. I grinned with pride at him.
“You’re going to be wearing your own jersey one day, little man,” I told him. He beamed up at me. I looked towards my dad for his common acknowledgement of that fact, but he was staring at James, a stone look on his face. James seemed to just realize that my father was trying to give him the death glare and sank beneath his stare.
“You know,” my dad started, narrowing his eyes further on James, “I have a shotgun. I’m not afraid to use it.”
“She’s doing brilliantly, Brenda,” I heard Sally say. I swung my bag over my shoulder, pushing the locker room door open. My mom and Sally were right outside of the doors, chatting absent-mindedly.
“I’ve seen, Sally,” Mom told her, turning to me with a big smile. “You’re amazing, Gigi.”
I smiled at her, letting her wrap her arm around me. I felt comfortable and safe with my mom’s arms wrapped around me. I felt like a little kid again, but in a good way. I felt like nothing could touch me. She smelt like a little bit of smoke, but it was something I was used to. Mom started smoking before I was even born. She always smoked away from us all, keeping the smell just on herself.
“James has no potential whatsoever?” Mom asked me hopefully. I thought back to when James and I had had sex. I thought back to the banquet and when he had kissed me. I felt the familiar flutter in my stomach when I thought back to James in general.
“Nope.” I answered. Before Mom could badger me more, I saw Gabby and Jenny up ahead, caring multiple bags in their arms. They had bright smiles on both of their faces.
“You will not believe how many things we got for free by just saying we are Gigi’s sisters!” Jenny exclaimed, branishing the shopping bags around.
“Gigi, I think you should just become the leader of the world. That way everything will be free for us,” Gabby said, smirking at me. Gabby is evil on the inside, I’m telling you. She hides beneath a kind exterior.
“I would not live in a world that Gigi ran,” I heard from behind me. Just then I heard the locker room doors slam shut and out walked Adam and Matt. Adam grinned at the sight of my sisters.
“Now who are you fine ladies?” Adam drawled, stepping far too close to my sisters. The three of us shared a very similar look.
“They’re my sisters, Adam. Off limits.” I explained. Adam narrowed his eyes on me. He seemed to be contemplating something very serious as his eyes moved from Gabby, then Jenny, then to me.
“Mrs. J?” Adam asked, turning towards my mom. She raised her eyebrows at him. “You made some hot children.”
“Adam!” I yelled, smacking him around the head. He cringed, backing up away from me.
“Well, you two have been with Gigi for quite some time. Her and James would make a cute couple, right?” Mom asked, turning towards Adam and Matt. Matt’s eyes widened when Mom said this and Adam looked utterly confused. Mom obviously thought the whole team knew the truth.
“But they are a couple,” Adam said slowly, looking at my mom like she was a hippogriff.
“Adam, aren’t you supposed to be studying the playbook? Big game’s tomorrow!” Matt said, guiding Adam away from the group. He glanced back at me, to which I gave him a thumbs up.
“Not everybody knows we aren’t a real couple, Mom,” I told her, making my way to the apparition site.
“Well, maybe you should be a real couple. I see the way he looks at you, Gigi. Plus, it wouldn’t kill you to get over whats-his-face,” Mom said. I cringed upon her words. She knew his name. I damn well knew she knew his name. I knew she meant well, but the sting still hurt.
“Leave it be, Mom,” I mumbled, turning towards Gabby and Jenny to save me. Both of them were giving me the ‘I’m-sorry-but-I’m-not-helping-you’ look. Thanks sisters.
“It was three years ago, Gigi!” Mom protested my words. I closed my eyes, sighing. I didn’t want to think about three years ago. It had taken me this long to just push it out of my head.
“I know,” I said, staring down at my feet. Only a few more steps and we’d be in the apparition center. I wouldn’t have to hear about this much longer.
“Genevieve, I think we need to talk about this,” Mom said, grabbing my arm and causing me to stop. I felt anger flair inside of me. That was the last thing I wanted to do was talk about this. About him.
“No, I think we don’t, Mom.” I hissed, glaring at her. She sighed and I saw the expression on her face change to that of pity.
“It is time to get over it. I think James would be perfect for that. I’ve seen pictures of him with a new girl, anyways.” I felt he familiar pang again, straight in the middle of my chest. I had avoided any article that had his name on it. So no, I didn’t see him with a new girl.
“Mom, drop it. Drop it now.” I growled. She didn’t seem afraid at all. In fact, she sighed, not letting go of my arm.
“Tyler wasn’t the one for you. I think James could be!”
“Mom! Knock it off!” I shouted, yanking my arm out of her grip.
“You’re being irrational!” She shouted back at me.
“Why? Because I don’t want to marry James?!”
“Because you are not getting over Tyler!”
“And you think James is the answer to that or something?”
“Well he’s not! Even if I was hung up on Tyler, I definitely would not go to James to get over him!” I shouted, stomping my foot like a child. My mom stopped, staring over my shoulder. Her eyes were slightly wide.
That was when I knew we had a larger audience than I had anticipated. I turned on my heel immediately to see James staring at my back, his face stone hard. Next to him was Barry, staring at me with wide eyes. The room was silent. To some, it looked like I was a huge bitch. To others, it looked like I had just crushed my boyfriend’s heart. To me, it looked like I had just really pissed off James Potter.
“James, I-“ I started, getting ready to explain my irrational shouting with my mom.
“Tyler?” He asked, breaking his silence. His face remained neutral.
“Uhm, yeah?” I wasn’t quite sure what he was looking for.
“As in Tyler Gates. The Cannon’s star chaser.” He said. I nodded slowly, not wanting to admit it myself.
“You dated him?” Barry asked, gasping in shock.
“She was engaged to him,” Gabby answered. There was an audible gasp around the small corridor we were all in. James didn’t move. I wasn’t sure if he was even breathing. I didn’t want to fucking think about it and here they were making me relive the worst parts of my life.
“He is American,” Sally added. I barely was focused on her words. My eyes were locked with James’s. I refused to move before he did.
“I have to go,” James said, finally breaking the stare we had. He pushed passed everyone, running down the corridor towards the apparition area.
“James, wait!” I said, sprinting after him. I didn’t know why, but I had to make it right. Whatever it was. When I made it there, all I got to see was the look on his face. That was what made my heart stop. The down turned face and the eyes that shot me the most loathing look I have ever seen. James Potter hated me. I let him apparate away, feeling the familiar sting in my chest, but this time not because I was bringing up the past. I was bringing up the present. Something just as bad.
Author's Note: So? Worth the wait? Did you enjoy meeting the Jacobs? They are an interesting group, I'm telling you. You'll see more of them as time goes on, trust me. They will be here for a few weeks in the story. And you will understand who Tyler Gates is too! He is quite the character, let me tell you. Anyways, review and tell me how you liked this chapter!
The sweat. The fresh mowed grass. The new quaffles. The shining snitch. The waxed brooms. The perfect tips. The dry heat. The whistling wind. The roaring crowd. The chanting. The name calling. The boos. This was for one game. This was for a few hours, or maybe a few days. This was more than just a sport, it was an addiction. This was Quidditch. This was my game.
I loved Quidditch ever since I was little. My father had always been a big Quidditch fan. I think I learned how to fly on a broom before I waved a wand. I could throw a quaffle before I could walk. My father had tried to get my other sisters into playing, but they weren’t like me. They didn’t have the dedication and drive that I did. I was willing to sacrifice everything just to make that final goal. I got that all from my father.
You have to understand that for a rookie, the first official game of the season is nerve wrecking. Not only have I had many different reporters trying to get quotes from me, but I had far too many articles written about me. I had articles written about how I fly to how I dress (I got yelled at by Sally for not dressing right according to Witch Weekly). I think other teams could learn more about me if they just read all the articles rather than watch me play, honestly.
James Potter would never be able to say he had more pressure going on his first game than I did. Sure, he had a retired Quidditch playing mom and a very famous Father, but I still beat him. Well, maybe. I wouldn’t be able to hear his bragging about how he had more pressure than I did. James wouldn’t talk to me. Hell, he wouldn’t even look at me. He barely passed to me during practice anymore. He only did it when Coach yelled at him for not passing it to me. Even then I nearly broke my fingers off with how hard he threw it.
Why was James so mad at me, might you ask? Maybe it’s because I’m an insensitive prick. Maybe because I decided to sleep with a guy, pretend to be his girlfriend, embarrass him in front of family and friends, sleep with his cousin, and not tell him about my ex-fiance. Not in any particular order, of course. I felt guilty, I really did. I hadn’t ever treated James the best, but we weren’t really dating, so that didn’t mean I had to, right?
He was still my teammate. He was still my fellow chaser. I had to treat him with respect, even if he was a jerk sometimes. I couldn’t let myself fall apart the day of a big Qudditch match. It wouldn’t happen. I wouldn’t allow it to happen. We’d have to fight another day. This was the reason you don’t get into relationships while you play Quidditch. Not that I was really in one, but still you see my point.
I poured myself a cup of fresh coffee (definitely not tea, that stuff was disgusting). The locker rooms were empty. The team didn’t start to arrive until two hours before the game. I had been up all night tossing and turning, so it didn’t pay to stay in bed until it was time to go to the stadium. The day of my first professional game as a Meteorite was just like this. Except I felt more nervous than ever right now.
The butterflies flew so much in my stomach that I was sure I was going to vomit. I knew coffee would be the only thing that could go down right now. I had bad experiences with nerve vomit. It was not pleasant, nor did it stop until I hit the pitch. That was something I did not want to think about right now. Vomiting wasn’t something that I wanted to be photographed doing on my first official game day as a Falcon.
I crossed the carpeted locker room floor and placed my hand on the embroidered white locker. It was taller than me. I ran my hand along the slick wooden material that had formed such a beautiful six letter name: JACOBS. I smiled to myself, taking another sip of my coffee. I opened my locker door, letting my eyes wander over every part of my uniform. My slick jersey, my tight slacks, my black embroidered tennis shoes, and my---
Wait, where the hell was my lucky bra?
I began to viciously tear through my locker. I threw everything out of it, turning it inside out. I found a pair of old socks, a few broken quills (I’m not quite sure how those got in there), but no lucky bra. I felt panic creeping up my spine. I never played without my lucky bra. When I grew a size, I made sure to make the bra grow a size too. Call me superstitious, but it was a good luck charm.
Now it was gone.
Was this a sick joke that the rest of the team played on me? Did they think I’d find this funny? I was going to rip their heads off. I was going to kill them. They’d be lucky if we could play today. They’d be lucky if they played ever. I was fuming. I was more than fuming, I was pissed. I was going to kill them. The first person I’d kill?
James fucking Potter.
I think my pillow still smelled like her. I buried my head further into it, inhaling. Yup, it definitely smelled of her coconut shampoo. I think she did it on purpose. She wanted me to think about her whenever I went to bed. That American tease. They were all like that. I slept with one over the summer. She was just as bad as Gigi was. I groaned, rolling over so I didn’t have to smell my pillow.
I pushed the thought of Gigi out of my head (which is a lot harder than you think). Today was the big day. It was the opening game and the first day as a captain. I pictured shaking Igor Krum’s hand today. I had practiced with Freddie just how hard to shake for it to be threatening, but not too hard to get called on it by the refs. I had practiced my pump up speech in front of the mirror multiple times last night. I was ready.
I might be lying a bit. I wasn’t ready. Normally, I was the most loved person on the pitch. People proposed to me while I played for Merlin’s sake! I knew today would be different. I may have just been made captain, but most eyes would be on Gigi. Selfish, egotistical Gigi Jacobs. I grunted, rolling onto my side. Gigi bloody Jacobs. What a joke.
I understand that we’re supposed to be fake dating, but if she was really my girlfriend, I would break up with her. Who doesn’t tell their fake boyfriend about their ex-fiance? Even if Gigi and I weren’t “dating”, I would still be this irate at her for not telling me. We were teammates. More than that, we were chasers. Chasers are supposed to be closer than close. Maybe not shagging like Gigi and I did, but damn close.
Okay, maybe it had to do with the fact that I had shagged Gigi. I mean, come on! At least have some courtesy to tell me you were going to get married to some bloke. Getting blind sided by you yelling things to your mother about him is not the way for me to figure out, let me tell you. Especially since I think I would make fantastic rebound arse. I’m a great shag.
I was almost back asleep when I heard a pounding at my door. It was like someone was trying to break it down. I moaned, not wanting to get up. It was probably Matt waking me up to go cook breakfast at Gigi’s apartment. I didn’t want to cook her bloody breakfast. She didn’t deserve it. Matt could do it by himself (though he’d probably burn the whole complex down).
“I don’t cook for slags!” I called in hopes Matt would hear me. Instead there was just more pounding on the door. Did Matt forget that I leave my door open or something?
I pushed myself out of bed reluctantly. There better be a damn good reason why Matt was ruining my beauty sleep on game day. I needed to be pretty for all of the press. It was only bloody seven o’clock in the morning! I’d kill Matt Hankin if it was the last thing I do, I swear. No one would know the difference anyways. They’d probably think Gigi did it. I snorted. Maybe I should.
I pulled open the door, rubbing my eyes like a child. Everything was still blurry. You don’t just wake up with 20/20 vision, it slowly comes back to you over time. That’s why I say don’t wake up too late on game day. You won’t see a bludger until it is on top of you. It happened to Freddie way too much back in the day.
Just when I thought I was going to see Matt’s grinning face, I was greeted with Gigi’s glare. Her green eyes were on fire as she looked ready to kill me. I yawned at her, crossing my arms. She was a little bit scary, but it didn’t show on my face. Plus, the anger was a little set off by the fact that her cleavage was right in my face. She had a fantastic rack, let me tell you. I can be mad at her and still admire it.
“What now, Jacobs?” I grumbled, staring down at her. She was a good head shorter than me, but that didn’t seem to bother her. You can’t intimidate Gigi Jacobs.
“I’m not playing games, Potter,” She hissed, shoving me out of her way and going into my flat. I wanted to rub my shoulder from the impact, but resisted. I was a man. I was tough.
“What are you going on about now?” I asked, shutting the door. She was searching every nook and cranny of my apartment. She was turning over couch cushions, looking behind pillows, and checking behind my wiz telly. I watched as she grew further and further angry. Her skin was turning a reddish color.
“Where the hell did you put it, Potter?!” She yelled in frustration, throwing a couch pillow at my head. I caught it with ease. I was used to her throwing the quaffle at me.
“Put what?” I hissed. She sighed, throwing her arms up in the air in frustration. She took off towards my bedroom, stomping her feet as she went. I’ll admit that I stared at her butt. She shook it just the right way. Americans.
“My lucky bra, Potter! I know you took it out of my locker last night!” She yelled from my bedroom. I stood in the doorway, eyeing her as she began to open my drawers. Nothing she hadn’t seen, I suppose.
“You have a lucky bra?” I asked her. I saw her face turning red in my dresser mirror. I smirked at her back as she opened another drawer, slamming it shut after looking through it.
“That’s not the point. The point is I’m not playing without it,” She said into a drawer.
“You Americans and your bloody superstitions,” I mumbled, leaning on the door frame. Yes, I did look cool. She grunted, slamming my last dresser drawer shut.
“Where the hell is it?” She asked through clenched teeth. I smiled.
“Maybe if you asked nicely-“
“So you did take it!” She exclaimed, coming towards me angrily.
“No, I didn’t! I wasn’t even in the locker rooms last night, Jacobs.” She stopped advancing on me. I let out the breath I didn’t realize I was holding. She sat down on the edge of my bed, running a hand through her thick brown hair. I had the same exact habit. I smiled to myself, but immediately hid it when she looked up at me.
“Who was then?” She asked. I shrugged.
Last night was an easy night for me. Freddie came over. We talked about old pranks we used to play back in school. He helped me perfect my captain’s handshake. We smack talked the Germans for a good while. We ate far too much junk food for it to be right. He let me rant about Gigi. I let him rant about some random girl he was going on a date with. All I remember was that she was a big Falcon’s fan. Because of that, I had given him the keys to the stadium so that he could woo her.
“Oh fuck,” I said. There wasn’t any way that Freddie would steal Gigi’s lucky bra, right?
“What did you do.” Gigi demanded, standing up quickly and crossing the room. I racked my brain for more Freddie had said about this girl.
Met her in WWW. Big Falcon’s fan. Nice rack. Nice arse. Great combination. Just like Gigi. Speaking of Gigi…she was Gigi’s biggest fan. Oh fuck. She was going to kill me. Or Freddie. I hoped she would go after Freddie. Afterall, our reserve chasers sucked.
“I think Freddie’s date took your bra,” I said slowly, hoping she wouldn’t blow up. She was silent. Too silent. She was staring straight at my face, but was looking right through me. She was thinking. I was actually very afraid.
“Why the hell does Freddie’s date have my bra?!” She shrieked. I was pretty sure that she broke my windows. I glanced behind her head to see the window still in tact. Well, it was barely in place. I swear it would fall out with one more shriek.
“Well, let’s go find out from him, yeah?” I said. This couldn’t get much worse, right?
“I will rip you apart, Weasley. I will tear you a new one. You better pray that this whore gives me my bra without any trouble, or so help me-“
“I think he got the point.”
“Do you want to see the game today, Potter? I advise you keep your fat mouth shut,” Gigi hissed, turning her menacing glare on me. I sank under the stare. You’re on your own, Freddie.
“She was cool. I’m sure she’ll give it back without any trouble,” Freddie shrugged, pushing the lift button to floor 3. This felt like déjà vu. I just couldn’t figure out why.
“You better hope she does,” Gigi mumbled, crossing her arms.
“Are you done PMSing yet?” I hissed, feeling my anger bubble up. I was still mad at her no matter if she was threatening to chop my head off.
“Are you done?” She countered. I stared at her incredulously.
“Excuse me?” I hissed. She was about to open her mouth when the lift doors slid open with a ding noise.
“First door right there,” Freddie said, pointing at a wooden mahogany door. Gigi went straight for it, pounding heavily on it with her fist.
“Isn’t that Rose’s apartment?” I asked. I knew I recognized the puke green carpets and the off-white walls.
“Yup,” Freddie said, not faultering as he watched Gigi continue to pound.
“Oh that’s disgusting!” I hissed. Gigi was yelling now. I had a disgusting image in my head of Freddie and Rose. “You realize she’s your cousin, right?!”
“She was bloody hot. When has someone being our cousin ever stopped me before?” Freddie said. I think I was going to vomit.
Gigi was about to knock again, but Rose pulled open the door. Her wild red hair was stuck up in every direction. She wasn’t wearing any bit of make up (she rarely did anyways), but it looked like we had woken her up. She was wrapped in a red bath robe, her brown eyes narrowed on Gigi. I checked my watch. 8 A.M. Rose probably had the day off anyways. It felt like she never worked.
“Ew!” Gigi shrieked, nearly jumping back. She turned toward Freddie, her eyes huge. “Your own cousin?! That’s revolting!”
“What do you want?” Rose grumbled, rubbing her eyes.
“Where’s Aimee?” Freddie asked. Oh thank Merlin. I forgot Rose had a roommate.
“Sleeping. Why?” Rose snapped.
“She has my bra,” Gigi stated, pushing past Rose. Rose was so dumb-founded by Gigi’s statement that she easily moved when I walked in behind Gigi.
“Your bra?” Rose repeated. Gigi nodded her head, crossing her arm as Freddie closed the door behind all of us.
“Her lucky bra,” I corrected. Rose raised her eyebrows at Gigi.
“I’m not playing without it,” Gigi said, holding her ground.
“How’d she get it?” Rose asked, going into her open kitchen and starting a pot of tea.
“Well, James gave me the key to the stadium,” Freddie began. I felt Rose’s glare on me. I could even sense Gigi giving me mental slaps. “We went to the locker room. She wanted to see Gigi’s locker. We….well, you know. Then when we were getting dressed, she must have snuck it out of her locker.”
“OI AIMEE!” Rose shouted down her hallway. “GET YOUR ARSE OUT HERE!”
A few moments later, Aimee Woods came down the narrow hallway. Her dirty blonde hair was tied up in a messy bun on top of her head. Her skin was kissed by the sun and her blue eyes stared right at Freddie, a large smirk on her full lips. She was absolutely gorgeous. I understood why Freddie had picked her for such a big evening. She was probably amazing in the sack.
Suddenly her eyes met Gigi. They grew to the size of quaffles. Her jaw dropped and she froze on spot. I’ve never seen such a beautiful woman stopped by another woman. I grinned to myself. That could be quite interesting. I wanted to send the image to Freddie. He’d probably get just as much enjoyment from it as I did.
“You’re Gigi Jacobs!” She squealed, nearly skipping forward. Gigi was standing her ground, however. She crossed her arms as Aimee came forward, glaring at her.
“You have something of mine,” She hissed in a menacing voice. I backed up slightly. I wasn’t going to get in her way.
“W-what?” Aimee stuttered at Gigi’s tone. She glanced at Freddie, at Rose, and then at me.
“My lucky bra! Where is it?” Gigi growled, advancing forward a bit. Yes, she was very intimidating. Aimee blinked a few times in confusion.
“That bra I took last night was her lucky bra?” Aimee asked Freddie. Freddie nodded, but seemed not to want to get involved either. Smart choice, Freddie.
“I want it. Now.” Gigi demanded. I saw Aimee’s lips turn up in a smirk.
“You know how much that is worth? I could sell it for hundreds of galleons,” Aimee mused. Even I knew this wasn’t going to end pretty. Gigi’s lips twitched in anger.
“What do you want?” I asked Aimee. I dug in my pocket, pulling out a few galleons. I offered them to her. She shook her head.
“Then what?” Gigi snapped. She smirked and pointed right at Gigi.
“You.” She said simply. Freddie laughed loudly at this comment.
“Yes!” He cheered. I pictured Gigi and Aimee, clothes off, and rolling around with each other. I grinned at Freddie, but refrained from saying anything. I’d get smacked most likely.
“You’re disgusting, Freddie!” Rose scolded, smacking Freddie on the back of his head. See, that could’ve been me.
“What do you want from me?” Gigi asked, growing very impatient. I would say her impatience was hot if I wasn’t so mad at her.
“I want box seats to every game this season. I want hot waiters taking care of me every single game. Away games I want to be on the field. More importantly…” She paused for dramatic effect. I looked at Gigi who’s face was growing redder with each word. “I want a date with him.”
Gigi’s face turned towards me, her eyes wide. Even when she was shocked, she was beautiful. Her big green eyes were the size of saucers. Her smooth olive skin was begging me to touch her cheek. She had small freckles over her nose that I only noticed when I was inches away from her face. Her full lips were begging for me to kiss her again.
“Him?” She hissed. I glanced around and saw everyone staring at me. Then it hit me.
“You want a date with me?” I asked incredulously. Aimee nodded, eyeing me up and down. Suddenly I felt dirty. I didn’t want to imagine Aimee Woods wrapped around my arm. I didn’t want to see her smiling at me or going in for a kiss. That was reserved for Gigi.
“As flattering as that is, I don’t think-“ I began, but Gigi cut in like a knife.
“Fine?!” I barked. Gigi nodded, holding her jaw tight and letting no expression cross over her face.
“A private date. No one can see the two of you together. I don’t want people to think I’m getting cheated on,” Gigi said, ignoring my comment. She didn’t even glance at me.
“Fine by me,” Aimee said, walking away into her bedroom.
“Gigi, what the hell,” I said, crossing the room and standing next to her. She sighed, looking up at me.
“What are you complaining about? You get another slut under your belt. Michelle can’t be the only one, right?” Gigi hissed. I felt her cold glare on me. I felt the anger bubbling up on me. The green monster was a heavy weight on my shoulder.
“Look who’s talking. As I recall you’re the one who was engaged,” I growled in her ear. I didn’t want Freddie or Rose to hear us fight.
“Was,” She emphasized.
“Once a slag, always a slag.” I told her. Gigi froze, not responding to my words. I felt her body to stiff next to me. Aimee came out of her bedroom, holding a lacy, red bra in between her fingers. I raised my eyebrows when she tossed it to Gigi.
“I’ll see you at the game, Captain,” Gigi hissed, shoving past me and out of the door. She slammed the door so hard behind her that a picture fell off the wall and shattered on the floor. Something told me that this game was going to be about more than just Quidditch.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Mad at me? Please take it easy on me. I know I haven't updated in a while, but I was away on a trip to Italy! It was a surprise engagement surprise thing... I don't know how else to explain it. Totally romantic and the works. But anyways, what do you think of getting things from James's point of view? Should I do it more often or stick to Gigi? Let me know what you guys think!
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.
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.
“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.
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.
“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.
”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.
“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.
“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.
I’m not sure what is worse: the fact that I did the dirty with James again or the fact that I was sober this time. When you have sober sex, you can’t blame it on the alcohol or anything really. Sure, if I was a guy I would just say “It was my hormones!”, but when a girl says that, she sounds like a dirty old hag that was so desperate to get some that she didn’t have an excuse. Let’s be real…. I didn’t have an excuse.
There was a thick wool blanket over my body (James liked the air to be blasting). I was wearing James’s button up he had been wearing the night before. I could feel it brushing against the very tops of my legs. It barely covered my bottom. I sat up quickly. My clothes were all the way across the room in front of his wiz telly. I immediately felt the regret sinking in as I looked around. No sign of James.
I speed crawled across the floor to my clothes. My knees were on fire as the carpet burn etched itself into my skin, but that didn’t matter. I quickly pulled my pants on (I couldn’t be bothered with finding my underwear), yanked my shirt over his button up and shoved my bra into my pocket. I pushed myself up and rushed around the flat to find my shoes. That was when from the bathroom I heard the toilet flush and out walked James, his boxers being the only thing he was wearing.
“Hey Gigi,” He said nonchalantly, like nothing had happened. I immediately looked away from his amazing chest. I felt embarrassed, even though I had seen much more than that before. He seemed so comfortable, like we hadn’t just slept together the night before.
“I think I’m going to go,” I told him, not looking up as I slipped my shoes on and dashed towards the door. James made it there before me. His eyebrows were almost touching as he looked at me in confusion.
“Are you all right, love?” He asked me, grabbing my chin and making me look up at him. I felt my stomach flip slightly as I looked into his swimming brown eyes.
“You don’t feel…weird?” I asked him. He smiled at me, chuckling as he dropped my face from his hands.
“We will talk later, love. I’ve got a few things to do today,” He said, then he surprised me and quickly swept in and kissed my cheek. I was so flustered that I wasn’t aware he had guided me out of his flat and into the hallway. This wasn’t going to be good.
I sighed, wrapping my thin sweater around me tighter. I wasn’t ready for this. I hated talking to any type of media. I wasn’t good at it. I always shoved my foot in my mouth. Sally normally had to stay close and if I said too much, she would pull me away. Sometimes Sally was good for something. There was always a pre-game frenzy of people wanting to interview the “star” players of the game. The Cannons v. Falcons game was one of the biggest games of the season.
Sally patted my back before guiding me towards the three steps that I had become accustomed to walking up. The flashes of the cameras were something that would blind me every time, I was sure of it. The seat I sat on was probably made to make me feel uncomfortable. Sally placed a hand on my shoulder, doing her fake smile down at me as I had roughly five microphones in front of me. I hate media conferences, I really do.
“Are you and James Potter still dating?”
“Are you cheating on Potter with Gates?”
“Is Gates a past lover?”
”Do you love Gates or Potter more?”
”How did Potter react to you seeing Gates the other day?”
“Are you dating them both?”
Sally cleared her throat, leaning over me to speak in the microphone. “We are here to discuss the game tomorrow, nothing more. If you wish to discuss Genevieve’s private life, we will leave now with no comment.”
The media all whispered things to one another and looked as though they were crossing off questions they had written down. I felt my heart beat calm. Good, I wasn’t going to have to deal with questions of Tyler Gates and about our past. I hadn’t even told James that. I wasn’t ready to. I’m not sure I would ever be ready to.
“Miss Jacobs?” A thin man from Quidditch Weekly asked. I turned towards him. “Do you see Tyler Gates as a threat tomorrow? Are you afraid?”
I felt my breath hitch in my throat. I knew what he meant, but I heard an entirely different question. Something that frightened me to no end. “Yes.” I told him. The cameras immediately began to flash and before I could react, Sally was yanking me up by my shoulder, shouting at the press to hold back their comments as she rushed me far away from the conference room.
“What did I do wrong this time?!” I hissed at her, pulling my elbow out of her falcon-like grip.
“You do not show fear, Genevieve! You cannot let them know that you are frightened by your ex!” She shrieked.
“I’m not-“ I started, but she cut me off with a cold laugh.
“Don’t bother defending yourself now. It’s done,” She sighed, turning away from me. “Think about how horrible you’re making me look.”
"Think about how horrible you make me look." I mumbled. She didn't hear me and for that I was glad.
I giggled, rolling onto my side. The sun was warm on my face and I could feel my skin growing slightly tanner just by being out here for the last hour. I would honestly spend the rest of my life in this exact spot. Except I would get rid of the homework I had. I would throw it right into that river we were lying beside.
“Come in, Gigi!” Hannah yelled from the river. She was in the water up to her neck, smiling at me from the clear blue water.
“I’ll pass, thanks,” I told her. She sighed dramatically, spinning around. I rolled down my socks so that the sun could reach them and lied back on my back.
“Darling, you should really go enjoy the water with your friend,” I heard Tyler whisper to me. I felt a smile creep on my cheeks. His breath was warm on my skin and even though it was so hot out, it still sent a shiver down my spine.
“Or I can enjoy you,” I told him, rolling over so I was on top of him. I heard Hannah yell something incoherent from the river, but I ignored her. I kissed Tyler passionately and felt him smile against my lips. I pressed my body harder against him and he immediately responded by grabbing hold of me tightly.
“Should we be doing this, Gigi?” he asked me. I could see the look of concern in his face and I immediately felt my heart leap. He cared for me.
“I want to do this. With you.” I told him, kissing him softer this time. He smiled at me, then glanced at Hannah. She had her eyebrows raised at the two of us.
“Are you two coming in?” she asked in an irritated tone.
“No, we’re going to head back up,” I told her, a large smile on my face as I got to my feet quickly. Tyler followed suit and ran a hand nervously through his hair. He wasn’t looking at Hannah. She narrowed her eyes, crawling out of the river.
”Why?” She asked in a biting tone. I was a bit taken back. I widened my eyes at her, trying to communicate to her what was going on with my eyes. Best friends could do that, right?
“We uhm… need some time alone,” I tried to explain. She crossed her arms and stared at Tyler.
”Is that true?” Hannah asked him. I blinked a few times in confusion. Why would she be asking him that?
”Yes. She is my girlfriend, afterall.” Tyler snapped at Hannah. Hannah huffed slightly, turning around and going back into the river without a backwards glance.
“Let’s go, sexy,” Tyler cooed in my ear, grabbing a hold of my waist and rushing me up to the school faster than my legs could take me. Love. That was what it was supposed to be.
I hate this. I really do. I want to kill baby hippogriffs at the rate I was going at. I had to be up in three hours. Three measly hours. Any time I fell asleep, I dreamt about Tyler. About memories we had together. It hit a certain tick that I didn’t think was possible to hit. I felt exhausted, hurt, and so fed up.
I fumbled with the covers and shoved them off of me. If I wasn’t going to sleep, I was going to do something useful rather than just lay in bed. I pulled a sweater over me and slipped into some boots. One of the most peaceful places in all of England was atop of our apartment building’s roof.
The door was heavy. I found that I barely had the effort to open it, but somehow managed. A cold breeze hit my face, but it was very much welcomed. I took a big breath of the fresh air as I stepped out onto the cement ground. The door shut quietly behind me. I looked towards my favorite spot to see Barry curled up in a blanket, staring out at the city around us.
“Hey Bare,” I said, coming closer. He had obviously heard me coming and just nodded, grunting something intelligible. “What’re you doing up here?”
“I could ask you the same question,” Barry mumbled. The biting tone in his voice took me back a bit. Normally Barry was very happy, full of energy. I’d never seen him so down.
“You okay?” I asked him, placing a hand on my shoulder. He glared at the dark sky and rolled my hand off of his shoulder. I felt the pang of hurt hit me like a flash flood.
“No, but what’s it matter to you? It’s none of your business,” He hissed. I held my hands up in defeat. If there was one thing I had learned from being on a team full of guys, it was that when they were mad, you just let them be.
“Fine. I’ll see you in a couple hours,” I told him, getting to my feet and making my way back towards the doors that led to the stairs.
“Wait Gigi,” I heard him say. I turned, crossing my arms. “Can you keep a secret?”
“’Course I can,” I told him, going back to my spot. You knew it was a big deal if it was eating Barry Williams alive. Especially if he couldn’t tell his twin brother, Scott, his issue.
“I slept with someone last night,” Barry told me. I snorted despite of myself.
“Isn’t that a good thing? Don’t you men live for that?” I asked him. He sighed, putting his face into his hands.
“With Scott’s wife.” He mumbled, trying to keep his voice muffled, but I heard him loud and clear.
“Oh.” Was all I managed to say. What are you supposed to say when your teammate tells you he slept with another teammate’s wife? Especially if those two said teammates are brothers?
“I know it was a horrible thing to do. He’s my brother! How could I do something like that to him? Mya was just there at the bar and I was nervous because of the game and was drunk and she was drunk and-“ He cut himself off with a big groan, flopping his head into his hands again. I put a hand on his shoulder. I always figured Mya Williams was a little promiscuous, but I didn’t figure that much.
“Talk to me, Barry. How’d it happen.” I told him. He looked back up at me with his large, puppy dog eyes and I almost wanted to cry for him.
“Mya has always been an attractive woman, Gigi. She’s cheated on Scott who knows how many times, but he’s too blind to see it. I went to the pub last night, needing to get away from Quidditch for a bit. I love the game, but there’s only so much you can take. I got drunk. Bartender was covering my tab, you know how it is. That’s when I saw Mya across the bar, flirting with some tiny bloke. I got angry. I knew how many times she had messed with other men and I couldn’t let her do that again to my brother. I stormed across the bar, grabbed her and apparated back to my place.” Barry ran a hand over his stubby hair and continued, “She was angry, telling me how I didn’t control her and neither did Scott….”
He paused, unsure of himself. I nodded for him to continue.
“We were getting heated and just generally pissed off. Then I’m not sure how it happened….we were snogging….and then clothes were coming off and-“
“Spare me the rest of the details, Bare.” I told him. He nodded in understanding.
“After we were done, she made me promise not to tell Scott. I told her I wouldn’t.” Barry mumbled, staring down at his tennis shoes.
“You’ve got to tell him,” I whispered. Barry nodded in agreement with me. “After the game, though.”
“My brother is more important than some game, Gigi,” Barry hissed. I sighed, trying to figure out how to choose my words.
“Yes, but we can’t afford to lose against the Cannons, Barry. Do it for me,” I told him. He looked up at me, studying my face. It was like he knew why I hadn’t been getting any sleep all night. It was like he was the one person on the whole team that understood girls.
“Fine. But afterwards you are standing right next to me when I tell him,” Barry said. I smiled at him, putting my head against his shoulder as he wrapped the blanket around my body.
“You can trust me, Bare.” I told him, closing my eyes and finally getting an hour’s worth of sleep.
The locker room door slammed open with a loud BANG. It shook my locker door. I turned in confusion to see James marching down towards everyone, his face full of fury and his eyes red with anger. This couldn’t be good. At first I thought he was angling himself straight towards me, but no. He was looking at Barry with full intentions of doing something horrible to him.
“What the bloody fuck is your problem?!” James shouted, shoving Barry up against his locker. Though Barry was double the size of James, Barry slammed against his locker from the force.
“What are you talking about, mate?” Barry asked in confusion. The whole team was around them.
“Don’t pretend you don’t know!” James growled, shoving Barry again. Barry fell against the locker again, having not been ready for that shove either.
“Stop shoving me.” Barry warned. James did it again, though this time Barry barely moved.
“Why? What the bloody hell are you going to do about it?” James asked sarcastically, his eyes in slits. Scott immediately jumped in, standing in front of Barry.
“James, what’s going on?” Scott asked him, holding up his hands to show he meant no harm.
“Why don’t you ask your brother?” James said, raising his eyebrows as Barry seemed to be growing nearly as mad as James.
“I didn’t do anything!” Barry defended.
“You did too! I saw you last night with Gigi!” James shouted. I felt all eyes turn towards me as I looked around in confusion.
“Err…what?” I asked. James barked laughter, but kept his eyes on Barry.
“I saw you two cuddled up on top of the roof last night. Heard you talking about how you shagged someone the night before. It was her, wasn’t it?!” James said, moving past Scott so he was in Barry’s face.
“Guys, we have a game that is about to start,” Chris tried to be the voice of reason. James and Barry didn’t even turn towards him.
“We were talking. I didn’t shag her!” Barry defended himself. I felt so small around all these men suddenly. Even though I wasn’t being directed, I felt as though all eyes were on me. Chris was giving me a sympathetic look.
“You’re a bloody liar!” James shoved Barry again. Barry rebounded off the locker and was straight back in James’s face, looking ready to kill. I immediately jumped into action and pulled James towards me. His face was ice cold as he looked down at me.
“James, we didn’t shag.” I told him in my calmest voice. His eyes were studying my face.
“Then who’d he shag?” James asked me. I glanced at Barry and sighed.
“It’s not for me to say,” I told him. James ripped away from my grip and was back at Barry.
“Who was it? If it wasn’t my girlfriend, who was it?” James asked him. Barry glanced at me, begging for my help, but knew I couldn’t do much more.
“Come on, shouldn’t you be bragging about it?” Adam said. I smacked Adam’s shoulder to silence him.
“It’s nothing to be proud of,” Barry told the group.
“She was ugly?” Adam asked. I hit him again. This time he glared at me, but knew to shut up.
“No, but she was someone that mattered a lot to someone close to me,” Barry tried to explain. James was right back into Barry’s face.
“So it was Gigi!” He shrieked. I sighed in frustration as Barry shoved James away from him.
“It wasn’t Gigi!” Barry shouted back.
“Just tell him who it was, mate.” Scott said in frustration. I saw the wave of despair cross Barry’s face. He was so torn between telling the truth or sticking to his word of not saying anything until after the game. I nodded towards him. We both knew it wasn’t going to be pretty, but it had to be done.
“I slept with Mya, Scott. Your wife.” He said. The whole room was silent. James had stumbled back in shock and away from Barry. Everyone’s eyes were on the two. Scott’s face was unreadable. Barry looked ready to break down into tears. For two large men, you never would have been able to see these looks on their faces.
The beater’s on a team always have to share a certain connection. Most of the time they have to even be blood related to play any good. The best beaters are the ones that play together. They are a team in themselves. They play on a whole new level. They play their own game. They work together in ways that chasers never could. There isn’t a better one. They are two parts of a whole. They are closer than close. Especially these two. They are bonded by blood and by the love of the sport. And now with Scott’s wife.
That was why when Scott put one swift punch to Barry’s face, I was not shocked. Barry went down like he had just fallen off of his broom 100 feet in the air. It was more than that, though. It was a ruined friendship. A ruined beater relationship. Most of all, it was a ruined brotherhood that could never be fixed.
I had a bad feeling about today.
Author's Note: I know I left you with so much, but what did you think?! I'm sorry about the wait again! I hope you enjoyed this chapter! I enjoyed writing it. It was like my fingers kept going and I couldn't stop them! Anyways, things are definitely heating up in the team, no?! Gigi just wants to play bloody Quidditch, what don't the boys get about that? Best quotes? Best scene? Opinions? Questions? Thoughts? Let me know them all! Thank you all so much for sticking with this story. It means a lot.
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!
Chapter 15: Finding Yourself but Losing Another
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All your life you are aiming for something. Goals can change, yes, but there is always something you are aiming for. Whether it is graduation, a career, a family, and even retirement, you always have something you have your eyes set on. Most of us may never even reach our goals. Some of us settle for whatever comes in front of us. That doesn’t mean we stopped trying for it. All it means is that we’ve come to realize our goals were unrealistic. It just means that we faced reality. We can’t be dreamers. We have to be realists.
I stared at myself in the reflection that was coming off of the ice cold water in Grandma’s small pond in her backyard. Small ripples passed through when one of the fish swam passed, but I could still see the outline of my face. Yet there was something that I couldn’t see. Something that I don’t think I’ve seen since the Cannon game. Emotion.
It was mid November. The Quidditch league had a week break while the International Team was picked. All the team managers and coaches got together in a large conference room and argued to the commissioner why their team members deserved to represent the designated country. By that Saturday, they held a ball and announced who would be playing for what team. For some it was the most nerve-wrecking time of the whole season. For me, it was a time to go back to Wisconsin.
I had grown up in the same house my whole life. We had never moved. The Jacobs had always been a very simple family. Grandma had the simple pond in her backyard that I used to come practice fishing in. The little tadpoles and guppies were always an easy catch. They ate just about anything. She had a very private and secluded yard. Her only neighbor was a wizard with far too many cats. This was where my father used to take me to practice flying. This was where I had fallen in love with Quidditch.
I sighed, standing up and away from the pond. I shoved my hands deep into my jacket pockets and started my decent back to the house. Everyone was probably here already and was waiting on me for dinner. I pulled my jacket as tight as I could around me. Surprisingly, it was freezing cold out. No, there wasn’t snow on the ground quite yet, but there was quite enough biting wind to make you feel like winter was upon us. I sped up, trying to get into the warmth that was Grandma’s house that much faster.
The warmth hit me like a bludger as I walked in. I slipped out of my shoes and hung my coat and scarf up on a hook. Sure enough, everyone was there, all jackets neatly lined up (which was shocking since no one was neat in our family). I came around the corner into the kitchen and immediately grabbed the oven mitt from Grandma as she was going to grab the large ham out of the oven. She gave me a disapproving look.
“I’ve got it, Gram.” I told him, giving her an identical look. She sighed at me, giving up on the matter.
“I can do it myself, you know!” She began to stir the beans sitting on the stove top. Gabby danced around me, grabbing a bottle of wine from the fridge.
“Want some?” She asked, holding it up to my face.
“Please.” I told her. She nodded, going back into the dining room where I could hear everyone’s chatter. I brought in the ham and set it down smack in the middle. The modest chandelier hanging above the table lit up the entire room. I could vaguely hear Jenny and Ethan arguing over Carter’s eating habits. Jenny was perfectly fine letting him eat what he wanted. Ethan believed that Carter needed to eat better.
“I pity your children some day, Ethan. Brussel sprout baby food day in and out.” I joked. Ethan turned a playful glare to me.
“Our children will be amazing!” Gabby protested, pouring wine into a glass for me.
“I wouldn’t talk, Gigi. Your children aren’t going to know the difference between the Unforgiveable curses because they will have their noses too far up their broomsticks.” Ethan stated with a huff. Everyone immediately started to laugh.
“What children? You think she’s going to have children? That’s a joke, right?” Jenny joined in. I shifted in my seat awkwardly.
“Who knows. Maybe someday.” Mom added, smiling down at me from her spot at the table. I forced a small smile her way. Let’s be honest, there was no way I was having children and she knew it.
“She’s got to find a guy first, Mom.” Jenny said. I shot Jenny a glare.
“I could find one if I wanted to!” I told her. She raised her eyebrows at me.
“Then why don’t you? It seems perfect James Potter wasn’t good enough. Who is, Gigi?” Jenny asked, leaning forward to hear my answer.
I paused. It wasn’t that James wasn’t good enough, it was… well… I don’t know what it was. He was charming, funny, and fantastic at Quidditch. But Quidditch was the problem. I wasn’t in Europe to date the famous James Potter. I was there to play Quidditch. That’s all there was to it. I wasn’t looking for a romance or a fling or whatever James and I were. I didn’t need the distraction from the game. I didn’t want that kind of distraction.
“I’m not looking right now, Jenny.” I told her sternly. She rolled her eyes, but dropped the subject. Everyone took their respective seats and began to idly chat over the delicious ham dinner.
“So Gigi, think you’re going to make the international team?” Dad asked from across the table. I smirked at him.
“My stats were extremely high for the first half of the season. Mr. Collins doesn’t see why I wouldn’t be at least a reserve.” I told him. That was a lie. Mr. Collins said he would be arguing, throwing fists, and putting out threats if I didn’t get on the International team.
Over the last month I had dedicated my breathing to Quidditch. I hadn’t let up. I mastered every single play that Coach Smithson could throw at us. I lifted weights upon weights until I saw bruises on the other boys’s chests from my throws. I ran every morning. I did the formalities of interviews. I smiled for cameras. I let James drape his arm over me (though he truly didn’t want to anymore). I had become Gigi Jacobs, the Gigi Jacobs. There wasn’t any coming down from this.
“I want to be on the International team too!” Carter cried.
“Give it 20 years, little man.” I said, winking at him from across the table.
Talk went on like this for the next couple of hours. Most of the time if was one of us getting targeted by the rest, but that was a Jacobs family dinner. It wouldn’t be one without someone getting food thrown at them (which I had thrown at Ethan). I had almost forgotten what family felt like, being all the way in Europe for months. It felt good. It felt refreshing. Maybe there was hope for finding myself again. Realizing my purpose.
I watched as my family was all sitting in Grandma’s living room, laughing and joking with one another. I know I shouldn’t have felt this way, but I felt like an outsider looking in. They were all so happy. They were all so joyous. They had one another. Sure, I had them too, but it wasn’t the same. I was all the way in England; they were all less than 10 minutes away from each other. They could call one another; they had to write me letters. I smiled with all of their jokes, but it didn’t feel the same. I felt like a stranger to them. I’ve never felt worse.
I went back outside for fresh air. I felt suffocated. I felt more alone than I have felt in a long time. I did this to myself. I was the one that pushed everyone away and I was the one that had to deal with the consequences. Fame sure is nice, but it’s nothing without being able to enjoy it with the people you love. I found myself under Grandma’s large apple tree. It was the one that we always use to collect apples from and bring them inside for Grandma to make apple sauce with. It was the one that Dad had me jump out of to learn to trust my broom. I sat down with a huff, not caring if my bottom froze to the trunk.
At least I’d have an excuse not to leave.
“Whatcha doing, kiddo?” I heard my Dad ask, coming up and sitting down next to me. I sighed, running a hand through my hair.
“Just sitting here. Thinking.” I told him, kicking at the dirt on the ground as I brought my knees up to my chest.
“Talk to me, honey.” Dad said. I looked up at him and it was all I could do but not cry. Dads always make you feel like you’re 8 again, trusting them with your life. You would fall and they would make sure you were okay. They would catch you when you jumped from the apple tree. They would protect you from the monsters under your bed or in your closet.
There wasn’t a damn thing Dad could do now.
“I’m fine.” I chirped. Even I didn’t believe myself.
“Genevieve.” Dad demanded. I sighed, a piece of hair flying with the breath I exhaled. Maybe I’d feel better if I talked to someone.
“It’s just... I thought coming back home for our break would really help me. I thought that maybe I’d be reminded why I became so dedicated to the game. Don’t get me wrong, I love Quidditch with all of my heart, but I just feel so… lost lately. Quidditch isn’t supposed to be about dating a teammate or scandalous photos. Quidditch is just sort of letting me down, you know?” I tried to explain. Dad nodded his head along with everything that I said. I held my breath. Dad never said much but when he did, you knew it was the real deal.
“As much as I love that you’re a Quidditch star, Gigi, you should not wrap yourself around it. You’re twenty, you’re not supposed to be anti-social and so focused on your career. This is the time when you’re supposed to mess up and enjoy life. You’re supposed to fall in love and get your heart broken a few times. Don’t punish yourself for one minute for enjoying something other than Quidditch. Even if it is James Potter.”
I sat there for a moment, contemplating what he had said. Dad was never wrong. Maybe I did need to enjoy life a little bit more. Maybe I did need to branch away from Quidditch. But I had worked so hard to get where I was. What if I did something that put it all at risk? I couldn’t do that. It wasn’t right of me. Plus, I had fans and a team that were counting on me. I couldn’t let them all down all of a sudden. I couldn’t make a bad image for myself. I couldn’t do half the things my dad wanted me to do.
“Thanks Dad.” I mumbled. He knew I wouldn’t listen to his words so with a sigh and a kiss on the top of the head, we both returned inside. I barely had a chance to move when Gabby and Jenny were already at my side when I walked in, dragging me towards the fireplace.
“What’s going on?” I protested, stopping them before they had a chance to take me to Merlin only knows where.
“We need sister time.” Gabby explained to me. I furrowed my brow at her.
“By that she means we are going to get drunk in England!” Jenny exclaimed, a wide smile on her face. I didn’t like this idea one bit.
“We cannot go clubbing in the country that I play Quidditch in!” I told them.
“Yes you can. We can drink free all night!” Jenny told me. I sighed, rolling my eyes. Sometimes Jenny gave me the biggest head ache.
“Go have fun, you prude!” Ethan called from his spot on the couch where he was showing Carter how to put a play airplane together. I was not a prude.
“Come on. If you don’t like it, then we can leave whenever you say, okay?” Gabby explained calmly to me.
“Merlin help me.” I mumbled and they both took that as there hint that I was in.
“I read that this was the hottest club in southern England!” Jenny said, her heels clicking rather annoyingly on the ground as we walked towards a large, colorful club. I was already regretting this.
Jenny and Gabby had taken to raiding my closet once we had gotten to England. Somehow they had found the smallest black dress I own and made me wear it. They even did my makeup and my hair. I probably looked like a stripper. I refused to look at myself in the mirror. Gabby had gone more modest, matching her personality (and mostly because she didn’t want to be hit on since she’s engaged). Jenny, however, had a dress that probably was smaller than mine and was bright red. It showed off just about everything except for her privates.
“Wow this line is long.” Gabby mumbled. She was right. The line was a good block long and didn’t look like it was moving. I went to go wait at the back when Jenny grabbed my arm to stop me.
“Do you forget who you are? What’s the point of going clubbing on the magical version of the Strip if we don’t use your stardom to our advantage?” Jenny said before dragging us all to the front of the line. I heard small mumbles from people as some recognized me.
“Jenny, I don’t want special treatment!” I protested, but kept getting dragged to the front.
“Too late for that honey.” Gabby told me, laughing as Jenny got us to the front, a large smile on her face. She didn’t even have to say anything. The guard took one look at me and removed the rope and let us in. I expected people to protest (like they do in the movies), but everyone just went back to their idle chatter as we entered.
The club was even more crowded than I had anticipated. People were back to back, strobe lights flashing, music way too loud, and drinks floating above everyone’s heads. Security stood at every corner, preventing anyone from doing anything too wild, but it didn’t look like they were paying any attention to the crowd. There was a large staircase on the far wall, leading to an upper level that looked to be roped off. There was a good amount of people up there as well, but definitely not as much as down below.
“VIP section!” Jenny cheered, grabbing both of our hands as she immediately dashed for the staircase.
“I feel like I’m being used.” I told Gabby as we dragged ourselves along the far wall. Gabby shook her head at someone as they came towards her to dance. She laughed at me and flipped her red hair out of her face.
“Honey, you are.” Gabby winked. I rolled my eyes. I shouldn’t expect any less from Jenny.
“Why hello Ms. Jacobs! Come in, please.” The guard said and he pulled the rope aside. “Who are your guests?”
“My sisters.” I mumbled, watching as Jenny lit up with pleasure at being let in to a VIP section. We climbed the stairs (which was really hard in these heels) and when we reached the top, we were immediately greeted with a margarita in our hands.
“I could get used to this.” Gabby said, nudging my hip as we walked further in. There were so many famous faces that I wasn’t sure if I was the most famous one up here. I recognized a few singers, movie stars, Ministry personnel, and even a few Quidditch players that nodded their head upon seeing me. It wasn’t a frenzy of people trying to say hello to me like it would’ve been below. It was calm, cool, and very loud.
I still felt out of place. This wasn’t something I normally did. Hell, I rarely went out at all. I normally was too busy sleeping and then getting up early to hit this kind of crowd. I was too wrapped around Quidditch to even think about going to clubs or meeting cute boys. This dress just felt uncomfortable to me. I felt like it wasn’t suitable for a Quidditch player. I felt like it wasn’t suitable for me. But I would play along for the sake of Jenny and Gabby. They were only trying to help and for that I was grateful. I still had them.
“Shots! I’ll go get shots!” Jenny cried, gesturing for the two of us to sit on the large bar stools that were around a small little table. We did as Jenny rushed through the crowd and straight over to the bar.
“How’s the wedding planning going?” I asked Gabby. Gabby was getting married next summer. She rolled her eyes at me, patting my arm.
“Darling, you don’t talk about things like that while you’re in a club. You talk about scandalous things! Things you normally wouldn’t feel comfortable saying to me!” She shouted over the music. I felt a blush creep on my cheeks. I didn’t know club etiquette. I took a sip of my margarita, hoping it would give me some encouragement.
“You and Ethan having good… err.. sex? “ I tried. She immediately busted out laughing at me. “I don’t know what to say, Gabby!”
“Tell me about Potter.” She said when her laughter calmed down. I looked down into my green margarita.
“Nothing to say.” I mumbled. I wasn’t even entirely sure she had heard me, but before she could respond, Jenny was on her way back.
“To sisterhood!” Jenny shouted, setting down all the shot and smirking as she clinked them together.
“Yeah! Bloody England!” Jenny screamed, in her worst fake British voice. I found myself doubling over in hysterics, as did Gabby.
We were drunk. We were more than drunk, probably. If that’s at all possible. Gabby had already attempted to climb up on the bar and fell smack on her face. Jenny had made out with two (very attractive) men. One was a talk show host and the other was a beater for Puddlemere United. I was currently trying to get myself up on the railing so that I could see the entire club. It was higher up! It doesn’t help when you’re as short as me!
“To Bloody England!” I said, taking a shot glass that was floating by and downing it. I laughed as I stumbled off of the railing and crashed into Gabby. Luckily, she managed to keep us both up right. Barely.
“Oi! Gigi!” I heard someone shouting my name.
“That’s meeeee!” I called, spinning around as I tried to find the culprit. Suddenly, someone grabbed me around my waist to stop me and I was face to face with Matt Hankin.
“Matt!” I squealed, wrapping my arms around him. “I missed you! Did you know that? I really did miss you.”
“You’re pretty drunk, huh?” He asked me, chuckling as he pulled me off of his chest.
“Yes she is!” Gabby sung, swaying back and forth to the music.
“What are you doing here?” I asked him, looking around to see who he was with, but there were so many people that I couldn’t tell.
“The boys. We’re celebrating!” Matt told me. I furrowed my eyebrows.
“Celebrating what?” I asked him. That’s when Chris came up, stumbling into Matt. He was just about as drunk as me, if not more so.
“Gigi! What are you doing here?” He asked, though I could barely understand what he was saying through his slurs. His blonde hair was unkempt, falling into his face and his blue eyes were shining ten times brighter than normal.
“Drinking. What are you celebrating?” I asked him. He took a long drink before answering me.
“My wife is pregnant! I’m going to be a dad!” He screamed. The whole top level cheered at this, though I was sure they all already knew.
“But what about Quidditch?” I asked him stupidly. He paused for a second, thinking this over too.
“My contracts up after this year. Family is more important.” He slurred. Drunk or not, I knew he truly believed in what he was saying.
“So who’s all here?” I asked, standing on my tip toes and looking towards the bar (because that’s where you can always find a Falcon). Before either could answer, James Potter’s eyes were on me in seconds. He froze, holding a tall fire whiskey in his hands. I fell back onto the balls of my feet.
“Oh.” Was Matt’s response as he saw where my gaze was.
“Oh dear. Jenny’s running to the bathroom. Be back!” Gabby shouted, shooting off after Jenny. I suddenly didn’t feel too well myself.
“Hey Gigi.” James had made his way towards us and was now standing in front of me. I glared daggers at him. I wasn’t sure why I was suddenly so mad at him, but all I saw was blind rage.
“You’re a jerk! You’re a…big jerk face!” I stumbled over my words. Matt and Chris looked at me in confusion. James raised his eyebrows at me in boredom.
“Is that so?” He asked dully.
“Yes!” I shrieked. He sighed, crossing his arms like he would rather be anywhere else than listen to me drunkenly yell at him. This just made me more upset.
“Anything else?” He asked. I didn’t have anything else, but I’m sure I could come up with more.
“Yeah!” I hissed. I raked my brain for more. I had to have something. “You are bad in bed!”
He rolled his eyes, not at all impressed with my insults. Damn it. I thought that was a real good one. Don’t guys hate to be insulted about their bed skills? Though who was I kidding, James was a master underneath the sheets. He knew how to work his hands and his mouth and…well, you get the picture, right?
“How drunk are you?” James asked, though I could hear it in his voice that he didn’t truthfully care.
“Wouldn’t you like to know.”
“No, Gigi, I don’t particularly care, but you are my teammate. If you make a fool of yourself, it reflects badly upon us all!” I could hear the irritation in James’s voice. He was getting mad too.
“Oh you mean it would look bad on us as a couple, right?” I corrected him, a wicked smirk on my face. Seeing James mad would be the highlight of my night.
“What? No, that’s not what I said.” James growled. His eyes were now narrowed slightly.
“So if I just…I don’t know, made out with Matt here, you wouldn’t mind?” I raised my eyebrows at him. I saw his jaw visably clench.
“What? Don’t drag me in this, Gigi!” Matt took a step away from me and James smirked, thinking he had won.
“Snog whoever you’d like, Gigi. I won’t care.” James defended. I felt the anger boil within me. It was a challenge. A challenge I was determined to win. I looked around in the crowd for someone, anyone, that would make James mad if I kissed. The smirk on my face grew wider as I saw my target.
“All right. Fine by me!” I sang, skipping in the direction of Harley Chilton. I didn’t have to see James’s expression to know he was on fire.
“Hey Chilton!” I called as I got closer. Chilton was a good head or two taller than me, twice as big, and his dark hair shone better in the light. His square jaw line had a few scars in it from numerous bludgers to the face, but he was still more attractive than half the men in this club. He smiled upon seeing me.
“Jacobs! How’s the team?” He asked me. I glanced over my shoulder to see James staring straight at us, a stone cold expression on his face. Before I gave myself an opportunity to answer Chilton, I slammed my drunken lips against his own in the sloppiest kiss of my life. Harley got into it. And what I mean is, he pushed me up against the wall and shoved his tongue straight down my throat. I felt sick. I felt like gagging.
That’s when it stopped and he was suddenly gone. I opened my eyes to see James having him pinned against the bar by his collar, shouting profanities in his face. I gasped as the whole room was now staring at the pair. James was half the size of Chilton but that didn’t stop him. I stumbled over to them, pounding on James’s back for him to stop, but that didn’t matter. James gave Chilton one swift punch to the jaw and he was out. The whole room gasped as the security finally made it over to us.
“I’m leaving!” He told them before they had a chance to kick him out. I was in utter shock.
“What the bloody hell-!” Matt said, running up to us. James stared straight at me, ice daggers coming from his eyes.
“We’re done.” He growled at me, shoving past me as security escorted him out.
I suddenly have never felt so sober in my life.
Author's Note: So, I made you wait forever and now I give you this? What the heck, right? Torture me later, read and review now. Tell me what you thought! Gigi finding herself meant losing James! She deserved it, right? Did James overreact? Should Gigi have even went clubbing? What do you think of the Jacobs girls? A little too much trouble to handle? Let me know!
I took a very deep breath as I stared at the door that had been simply across the hall from my own for the past few months. It normally wasn’t so daunting as it was today. I barely knew what to say to make things better. I barely knew what to do to make him hate me less. I was a prick. I was the worst kind of teammate a guy could ask for at this point. I sighed, knocking quickly before I changed my mind. James pulled open the door. His hair was disgruntled like he had just woken up. It was 8 in the morning after all. He gave me one angry groan and turned away from me, returning back to his apartment.
“Potter, can we just talk?” I asked, rushing into his flat, shutting the door behind me.
“Nothing to talk about.” He said stiffly. He slammed the refrigerator door open, searching its contents for something worth devouring.
“There’s everything to talk about, James!” I tried, following him over to his fridge. I looked in myself and saw one container of food and a jug of milk. Classy.
“Look Jacobs, I barely want to see you right now, let alone have to play Quidditch with you. No bloody way am I going to sit down with you and discuss why you’re such a slag.” He said through clenched teeth. He forcefully closed the fridge door, making his way towards the cupboards. They were just as empty as the fridge was.
“I thought we weren’t going to let our stunt get in the way of us playing Quidditch!” I said in frustration, trying to get myself in between him and his cupboards to no avail.
“Our stunt?” James repeated, pausing to glance at me before he managed to pull a box of cereal out of a cupboard.
“Well, whatever you want to call the past few months!” I hissed, watching as he poured himself a bowl and searched a drawer for a spoon. At least one that didn’t have a previous stain on it. I swear, he was the messiest man I knew.
“Right….stunt.” He mumbled under his breath. He tossed a spoon in the bowl and reached back in the fridge to get his milk. I watched as he slowly poured the milk, his face contorting in a rather gorgeous manner.
“We need to get passed this. For the sake of the team, at least,” I tried, pulling myself up onto his counter as he leaned against his sink and took his first bite. James furrowed his eyebrows, which just made him look more pissed off.
“Jacobs, how would you describe the past few months?” James asked me.
That was a good question. I saw myself coming to the team and being so fascinated by everyone here. I remember sleeping with Freddy. I remember breakfasts with James and Matt. I remember helping Adam with plays. I remember becoming James’s fake girlfriend. I recalled the skimpy photo shoot and the sleeping with James. And sleeping with James again. I remember home games, away games, and hearing my name ripping through a crowd. I could recall James sitting in a hospital room with me for hours on end. I remember relentless press and an even more relentless coach. I remembered the jealousy rippling through James. I remember Scott punching Barry before our biggest game of the season.
“I…I don’t know how to answer that question, James,” I responded. It was all such a blur in my head at this point. It all melted together into one large picture. A picture of the Falmouth Falcons.
“Don’t think about the Quidditch. Think about us. What has our relationship looked like to an outsider?” He asked me.
“How did tabloids describe us?”
“We were dating. We looked like Quidditch stars that had crossed paths and had fallen for each other. Dedicated to the game and had found someone who was just as dedicated as the other,” I stated simply. James’s face took a moment to untangle itself from the knot he had put it in.
“And none of that was the truth?”James questioned. This caused me to pause. What was he trying to imply, here? That I had feelings for him? Nothing could get in the way of Quidditch. I had made that clear.
“What are you trying to get at, Potter?” I felt myself hissing at him. He took another carefully calculated bite of cereal.
“You cannot honestly tell me that somewhere along the line, this “stunt” didn't become more than that.”
I felt my stomach form a knot. I felt my heart rate pick up. We had slept together on countless occasions. James Potter had met my family. I had met his. His father wanted him to marry me. But we joked around like teammates. We were friends; very good friends at that. James was my fellow chaser. We were a team. You can’t be both teammate and lover. Things got too complicated. History had proved that with countless players trying to be with a teammate. It didn’t work out and the team always ended up going down the wrong path.
“The team is what is important, James.” I mumbled, finally catching my breath. James suddenly didn’t look so angry. He looked hurt.
“Then you obviously don’t mind this being over. We did agree on that, right? Being together until you got enough notice to be on the International Team. Congratulations, Jacobs….you got what you wanted.” James growled, turning and putting his bowl in the sink. He didn’t turn back towards me. “You can go now.”
I didn’t know what to say to that. I felt hurt. I felt betrayed. Most of all, I felt a sharp pain in my chest at the way he wouldn’t even look at me anymore. Was I that pathetic? I opened my mouth to say something, but nothing came out. No words sufficed. So instead, I turned on my heels and slowly walked from the room. I reached the doorway and turned back towards him. He was still facing the sink, hands sprawled out, head down. I searched for words again to no avail. I sighed, opening the door. I took one more glance back.
“See you tonight at the ball.” I whispered.
He didn’t respond.
I pursed my lips at my reflection in the mirror. I hated wearing this much makeup. I hated having to wear these ridiculous high heels. I hated having to wear a dress that was so tight, I was wondering if I would ever be able to breathe again. I didn’t want the flashing lights in my eyes and the ridiculous amounts of questions thrown my way. Right now, I really didn’t want this fame and fortune. I sort of just wanted to go home and curl up in my mom’s lap and let her tell me about when I was younger. Home sick was an understatement right now.
I saw Sally pacing in the living room, shouting profanities into her cell phone. She kept making gestures that suggested I crawl under the covers and never come out. On every single magazine cover and newspaper in the world, they had all announced James and my break up. Most of them didn’t have a single fact right, but the few that did had made me out to be a total slag (like James had said). Though I couldn’t blame any of them for that. I had been a total slag. I sighed, facing my doom and entering the living room.
“I don’t care who you are! You are not quoting her!” She shrieked, immediately hanging up and turning towards me. Her eyes turned from daggers to ice bullets. I cringed slightly.
“Who was that?” I asked, attempting to get the attention diverted for a moment.
“You’re extremely lucky that Potter got you to this point, otherwise we’d be packing up our bags and returning to the States!” Sally hissed, going to her phone and wildly texting on it.
“I got myself to this point. My talent alone.” I said through clenched teeth. She ignored me.
“I lined you up a date for this evening. Can’t have you showing up alone, now can we?” Sally said, more to herself than to me. I wanted to protest, but there really wasn’t a point anymore. Sally got what she wanted all the time.
“Who is it?” I asked, grabbing a shawl that had been lying out for me. Sally waved a hand at me.
“He will meet you in the lobby.” Sally stated, not looking up from her phone. I sighed, unable to even come up with a response to that. I grabbed my handbag, going out without saying anything to Sally. I attempted to slam the door behind my angrily, but I doubt she even flinched at the sound, let alone knew I was even slightly angry.
I stared at James’s door for a second too long. Why did I feel this guilty? We weren’t even anything real. Nevertheless, I shouldn’t have acted the way I had. I was not only unprofessional, but I wasn’t a good friend. Harley Chilton had been the one thing that had stood in James’s way of becoming a captain the minute he had stepped onto the Falcon’s field. He had deserved it and now that James had the spot, he was damn good at it. Chilton was interviewed countless times on how James was doing as a captain and how I was doing at filling his shoes. Though his answers were always neutral, you could always tell he had a certain dislike for James. James would never admit it, but Chilton’s comments always hit James a certain way that made him throw the ball a little harder and with an angrier look on his face.
I regretted every moment of kissing Harley Chilton. I wish I could have just kept him out of my life the moment he had left the team and I had taken his place. Even though Harley Chilton (yes, you STILL have to say his full name) is old news, its always hard for a previous limelight hogger to get themselves adjusted to the shadows.
Boy, I never thought I’d see the day that I was saying Harley Chilton was needing to get adjusted to the shadows.
I let myself out of the lift and nearly gasped upon seeing my date. You know those moments where you just want to slap yourself a few times to see if you’re awake? Or when you know karma is just trying to bite you in the ass? Well, karma’s name is Sally and she’s a bitch. Harley’s large grin spread across his face as he stepped forward with a single rose in his hand. Really? You’re filthy rich and all you get me is a single rose?
“Thanks.” I mumbled, taking it quickly out of his hand before he could try to say something suave that will get him in my pants later. I saw his eyes wander up and down my slick dark blue dress that hugged my every fine-toned curve. I felt dirty with him looking at me like that.
“You look beautiful.” He cooed. I wanted to vomit.
“Let’s go.” I grumbled, grabbing his arm and apparating before he could utter one more not-so-charming thing to see if I would swoon.
Gigi Jacobs doesn’t swoon.
I didn’t even have a chance to let go of Chilton’s arm before cameras were everywhere around us. People were shouting things and I couldn’t even distinguish between the actual lights in the hall or between all the press cameras. It was too difficult to hear their questions over the shouting they were trying to do. I’m pretty sure someone was just plainly screaming to try to be louder than the rest. Chilton took this opportunity of my shock to wrap his arm around my waist and pull me closer to him. This caused way more havoc.
As I became adjusted, I noticed security of the event began to push the press away from Harley and I. People had been apparently standing all around, trying to get a view of what all the fuss was about. Boy did they. Whispers began immediately. If you don’t think Quidditch stars can gossip like school girls, then you are mistaken. First I kiss Harley Chilton in front of James and now I’m bringing him to a International Ball? How scandalous.
Or at least in their minds. I wish some of them could see the truth.
“Slag.” Someone said loud enough for me to hear. I peeled around to glare at the culprit, but there were too many disapproving eyes to know who had said it.
“I’ve never been looked at in this manner before.” Harley chimed, grinning at everyone who looked at me in distaste.
“They aren’t looking at you like that. Believe me.” I told him, sighing as a floating tray went by with a flute of champagne. I immediately grabbed it and downed it all in one gulp.
“Its going to be a long night.” Harley stated.
“Couldn’t have said it better myself.” I mumbled, crossing my arms as I noticed Chris and his wife enter. Chris looked at me with big eyes before plastering a smile on his face and walking over to us.
“Harley! What a pleasant surprise!” Chris said, his voice an octave too high. His wife gave my arm a tight squeeze and a reassuring smile.
“Nice to see you, Piette….and Mrs. Piette.” Chilton made me want to rip the skin off of my own bones. Honestly.
“I’m actually shocked to see you here, Harley. I didn’t know you and Gigi were an item!” Meme said, winking at me. Oh she’s lucky she makes good cookies or I wouldn’t accept her stirring the pot like this. I gave Harley a swift smack to his chest when I saw him open his mouth.
“We aren’t!” I quickly shouted over his UMPH sound. Chris tried to hide his very loud snort, but Meme smacked my shoulder.
“Thank you!” Harley said, trying to look very affronted. He just looked constipated.
“Pregnant woman can’t hit. I can’t hit them back.” I grumbled childishly. Chris swung his arm over me, trying to slyly drag me away from Harley. I didn’t protest. I wanted to be far away from him.
“Just going to go gather with the team quick!” He pipped over his shoulder to his wife who smiled and waved at the both of us. “What the bloody hell were you thinking bringing him here?”
“He was in the lobby waiting for me! Sally set it up! I couldn’t very well come here alone, now could I?” I hissed at him under my breath.
“It would’ve been a better idea than coming with Chilton, that’s for sure.” Chris mumbled. I wanted to hit him, but thought better of it as we weaved our way through the growing crowd in the entrance and my heels hit marble floor of the large, open hall. I wanted to gasp and ooo and ahhh, but there wasn’t time for that as Chris dragged me to the group of Falcon’s standing off to the side. I felt like I was walking back in time to when I was first introduced to the team. Barry was giving Scott a noogie. Adam was trying to give Matt a noogie who had already shoved him to the ground. This had gotten the attention of Barry and Scott who stopped their tomfoolery to laugh at Adam. Adam was red in the face as he got up.
Except James was leaning against a pillar, arms crossed, distant look to his face. Where was the James Potter who would have been the one to pretend to help Adam up only to watch him fall again? I wanted to go up to him, make a joke and watch that smile grow on his face as he would shove me away. I wanted to make a snide comment to him and hear his retort. I wanted to smack a pillow into his face and tell him to man up, only to have a pillow war ensue from that.
Instead, I kept my head down as we joined the team.
“Oi Gigi! I’ve missed ya!” Barry said, grabbing me around my neck and trying to take me down into a noogie. I swiftly elbowed him in the stomach and he let go.
“I guess she didn’t miss you, mate!” Scott said, his deep rumble of a laugh shaking the floor.
“Good, good everyone is here!” Mr. Collins chipped, hopping over to us with his deep brown bowler sitting on his head and his ‘nice’ dress robes hanging off of his body. “Now, we tried to get all of you on the England team, but there was only so much we could do-“
“Collins, who is going to be able to get drunk with us during the off season and who will be too busy playing more Quidditch?” Matt asked, receiving quiet laughter from most.
“Well I cannot just tell you! That’ll ruin the surprise!” Collins said, a wide smile breaking out over his face.
“Ugh. Then why’d we all have to meet here?” James asked, pushing off the pillar and his eyebrows furrowing in an angry expression.
“To show team spirit! I want you all to sit by one another during the ceremony. Show support for one another if they get chosen and whatnot. I fully expect to see a press release about how unified the Falmouth Falcons are. Understood?” Collins’s voice suddenly got a very serious, deep tone.
“Yes sir.” Most chimed. Collins nodded and with that, turned away and hopped to the other side of the room to mingle.
“I’m going to go grab our dates.” Chris mumbled to me, disappearing before I could say I’d join him.
“I want to break his neck.” I growled to Matt who had taken to resting his arm on my shoulder.
“Chris? What’d he ever do to you?” Matt asked.
“No. My date.” I explained. Matt nodded in mock understanding.
“Who’s that?” Matt inquired.
“No one I should be proud of.” I grumbled, nearly slamming my head into Matt’s shoulder as I rested it there. It was tempting to slam harder, but I doubt I’d be able to render myself unconscious. Matt had large, rock hard muscles, but I had a thick skull.
“Jamesy! I was wondering where you had wandered off to!” I heard the annoying, high pitched voice before I saw her. Michelle. The woman who was a veela. The woman who was James’s ex. Or maybe they went back to dating now. Who knew.
“Had to meet with the team.” James mumbled, letting Michelle link her arm in his. Her eyes immediately fell on me and a large smirk covered her face.
“Jenny! Hello darling! How’s the season going?” She shouted to me as though I was deaf. I blinked a few times at her in confusion.
“Gigi. It’s Gigi. Do you not pay attention to Quidditch or something?” I asked her in an accusing tone. She let a sharp laugh ring from all around us.
“Of course I do! I see James scoring all the points all the time!” She giggled. James didn’t seem fazed by her giggling and her hanging on his arm. He was staring at a wall opposite all of us, a blank look on his face. I rolled my eyes, letting her keep on giggling. Another floating tray went by and I grabbed another flute.
“See you’ve found more alcohol.” Chilton said, coming up on my left. This caused me to drink my champagne faster. However Chilton caught James’s attention faster than his own date had.
“You brought Chilton?” James hissed, his eyes glaring daggers at me. I hesitated for a moment and thought about explaining what had happened.
“Yup.” I said, drinking the rest of the champagne and watching as it popped away from my hand. I quickly grabbed another.
The music hasn’t even started yet and I’m three glasses in. Joy.
“I don’t like you.” I stated honestly as Chilton had his arms around me too tight as we swayed on the dance floor.
“I know that.” He stated, the same smirk on his face that had been on there all night still present.
“Then why are you here? Why do you keep holding me so damn close to you?” I asked him, trying to pull myself away from him slightly but only getting pulled closer. If it weren’t for the nine classes of champagne, I’d be able to fight back better.
“For appearances, darling.” He hummed, twirling me around (which made me want to vomit) and pulling me closer to him.
“What appearances? The press already thinks we’re shagging. You’ve got more interviews than you did when you retired. Why keep using me?” I asked him. Maybe it was the champagne that kept me talking, but I wanted to know Chilton’s motives. It seemed like his smirk grew.
“I’m going to dip you and you’re going to see exactly why. Keep your eyes open.” Harley whispered to me, dipping me nice and low, giving me the perfect view of a more than pissed off James Potter. He looked like he was fuming. In the few seconds that I was dipped, he managed to take two full shots from the bartender. Michelle was hanging off of his arm, begging to dance, but he seemed to be ignoring her.
I got yanked back into reality. So Harley just wanted to make James jealous. He wanted to have an advantage over James. What were we, two? I could have sworn that becoming adults meant putting all of these childish games behind us. I felt the fury grow even larger in me towards Chilton. I really did despise this man. I let him move me elegantly around the floor. I felt the rage swell in my eyes.
“He’s watching us.” Harley whispered in my ear.
“You know what would make him furious?” I asked. Harley pulled back, furrowing his eyebrows in question at me. “If you kissed me.”
Harley didn’t need telling twice as he put his arm on my lower back, the other on the back of my neck as he pulled me in for a kiss. I made a disgusted face mid-kiss, pushed my hands onto his chest and gave him a swift shove away for dramatics. He looked at me in shock while I laid a swift slap on his cheek and a nice stomp from my heel. He shrieked like a girl, hobbling up against the pillar to catch his balance.
“Potter is twice the man you’ll ever be.” I hissed to him, turning and walking away as whispers immediately began to circulate. I probably heard every name in the book called towards me, but I ignored them all and walked straight for the bar. Michelle was giving me a ghastly look while James was still staring at Harley across the room.
“A shot of the strongest thing you have back there.” I demanded to the bartender. He nodded and poured a black goo into a small glass. I didn’t protest and took it quickly.
“That was just rude to do to your date!” Michelle hissed in a low tone, immediately wrapping her arm back into James’s.
“It’s rude to Potter to have to hear your voice all the time, but you still talk.” I grumbled, leaning against the bar as her jaw dropped.
“Well that’s just…that’s!....You’re going to let her talk to me like that?” Michelle, apparently at a loss for words, turned towards James, both arms crossed in a huff. I expected to get yelled at by him. I expected him to hate me more than he already did.
“Yes.” He said simply, walking away from the pair of us and disappearing into the crowd. Michelle gasped as I let out an unattractive snort. Her glare quickly turned towards me.
“Haven’t you done enough damage to poor James?” Michelle growled. I raised my eyebrows at her.
“You mean on the pitch? I’ll admit I have a good arm, but it’s not good enough to damage Potter,” I stated, going to walk away from her as well. Only so much you can take of blonde bimbos. Yet she stopped me suddenly, grabbing onto my bare arm, her long nails digging into my skin.
“Listen to me, Jacobs. You’re going to leave James alone. You’re going to see him at practice and that’s it. You’re going to never speak to him again. Do you understand me?” The low growl in her voice made her almost intimidating.
“Or what? You’re going to throw a pom-pom in my face?”I questioned. Her grip tightened on my arm. The pain increased and I winced slightly. Blood started to drip down her fingers. An evil, sinister smile spread across her face.
“Expect not to survive the International game against Germany, then.” She said in a low voice. I felt my pulse pick up slightly.
“Wait, how do you know I’ll be on the international team?” I questioned. Did she have an in that I didn’t know about? She sighed in frustration and dropped my arm. I felt the blood slowly dripping down my arm.
“You’re pathetic. No wonder he dumped you.” Michelle stated before stomping away. I looked at my arm and grabbed the nearest napkin I could find and held it against my arm.
Was Michelle really that crazy that she’d off me in front of thousands of people? Right in the middle of a match? Nobody is that obsessed with someone….right? I glanced around to find where Michelle had went off to, just to see if I could see the crazy look in her eyes, but she had vanished. I sighed, grabbing another glass of champagne and scanned the crowd for anyone that I knew. Anyone that I knew personally at least. There were a lot of big names here, a lot of names that I remember having posted on my wall at Salem Institute. I wanted to walk up to them and shake their hand or giggle while they told me a joke, but then I remembered that most of them thought I was the slag Falcon chaser who cheated on the heartthrob of the league.
Couldn’t get much worse, really.
“Will everyone please find their seats? We would like to get the ceremony going!” Ethan Daniels called to the room from the podium placed on a riser.
Everyone immediately began to shuffle around as tables began to float down from the ceiling, chairs along with it. I noticed the Falcons table across the room and began to make my way for it. I felt someone shove into my shoulder unnecessarily hard. I spun around to say something that I would probably regret later when Tyler Gates met my eyes, a smirk playing on his disgustingly pale lips.
“Slag.” He hissed. Suddenly it felt much more threatening coming from his lips.
“Takes one to know one.” I growled back. He raised his eyebrows at me threateningly.
“At least I didn’t have Hannah fight my battles for me. You’re just a little coward, Jacobs.” Tyler said, only loud enough for me to hear.
If there was one thing I hated being called, it was a coward. I was not a coward. I didn’t run from anything. I had always faced my problems head on. I had worked so hard to get where I was and I hadn’t stepped on anyone’s toes to get there (Tyler couldn’t say the same). But the root of the problem was that was what he used to call me to motivate me to run faster, to fly higher, and to throw harder during our Quidditch practices. It always motivated me to do something better.
Which was why Gates got a swift knee to his groin.
Motivation, baby. People were too preoccupied with trying to get to their seats to notice Tyler doubled over in pain and me walking away, a small smile playing on my lips. When I reached our table, I noticed the only seat left was between James and Matt. I hesitated, knowing James still didn’t want anything to do with me. He glanced up when he saw me approach and looked around the table as well.
“Sit down then. At this rate they’ll have announced all of England’s team and you will be in all of their way.” James said. I wanted to smile wider, but knew that it would be too sentimental for an all guy team. Instead I took the seat next to him, making sure to smile at Chris who looked ready to cry at the scene. Well, they do say men get pregnant too when their wives are.
“Welcome everyone to this year’s International Ball! Every decade, the Quidditch Association chooses two consecutive years to host the International World Cup. Each respective country gets to choose their players to represent them. The choosing happens during the week break before teams compete for their league cups. During the offseason of the regularly scheduled matches, the select few who are chosen battle it out with other countries to determine who will come out on top as the World Cup Champion!” Ethan spoke so clearly and so elegantly that it was easy to get caught up in what he was saying. I even whooped with the men at the mention of the World Cup. “It just so happens that this year is our final year of International Quidditch in this decade. Another International World Cup will not happen for another six years.
“Now there have been a lot of changes to Quidditch in the last couple decades and I am honored to be a part of these changes! There are changes to come and changes always happening as Quidditch is the fastest, most diverse game wizards could ever create!” He received cheers for this. “Now without further ado, I’d like to introduce to you all, the twenty coaches of our International teams!”
Twenty coaches jumped on the stage, receiving a loud round of applause as they were each introduced. Each gave a brief speech as to how they plan to run their team straight into their coffins if they don’t win the World Cup. The French coach even stated he’d feed his team to Germany if they weren’t finalists. Ethan returned to the podium and began to announce the players for each team in alphabetical order. Argentina, Australia, Bulgaria, and even Brazil had challenging members. That was when he received the parchment with England’s team on it.
I held my breath. I was nervous. I had worked so hard for this. This had been my goal since arriving to England. I wanted to be on the International team. There’s a big difference being on England’s team then America’s who gets knocked off the first game of every year. I felt someone squeeze my knee underneath the table and looked down to see James’s hand wrapped around my knee. I felt comforted by this. He glanced at me and had to do a double take.
“What’s that on your shoulder?” He asked, his fingers lifting off of my knee and brushing on my cut.
“Nothing.” I quickly said, pushing his hand away. He turned back towards Ethan Daniels and I swear I felt him scoot away.
So much for comforting.
“The person representing England at the keeper position is Caleb Frisby from the Appleby Arrows!” Everyone cheered as Caleb made his way to the stage, his robes flopping after him. He quickly shook Ethan’s hand and stood next to his new coach. I could see the redness in his face. He was an amazing player, rarely ever letting a quaffle in.
“Your seeker for the England team will be…. Heath Lynch from the Tutshill Tornadoes!” Everyone cheered as the small red-headed man practically ran up to the stage and started jumping around with joy. Everyone got a good laugh from him. He looked ready to hug Caleb.
“We’re happy to have you too, Lynch.” Ethan said, receiving a hardy laugh from the crowd. “The beaters will be Pagen and Liam Connolly from the Wimbourne Wasps!”
Barry and Scott didn’t seem all too effected by this. Their goal, along with Adam and Chris, was never to really go to the International team. They had always planned on making good money and then retiring once their time came. Matt took another swig from his flask that had somehow now came out into the open. He wasn’t paying much attention. He had made it clear to Mr. Collins that he did not want to be on the international team.
“Three is too many chasers from one team anyways.” He had claimed at the time.
“And your chasers! At the position of left, we have…. Tyler Gates from the Chudley Cannons!” Everyone cheered at this, but I cringed. The last thing I wanted was to be on the same team as Gates again. I felt James tense up next to me. Must have been thinking the same thing.
But it was funny watching Gates try to hide his injury while waddling confidently up to the stage.
“And your center position chaser will be… Gigi Jacobs of the Falmouth Falcons!” I felt my heart leap straight to my throat at that. I froze, unsure of what to do. Did he really mean me? Cameras began to flash in my face as I stood up and heard the cheer of the other teams. I made my way to the podium and shook Ethan’s hand, still flabbergasted at what just happened. Me. Gigi Jacobs. I was the center for England.
I could have fainted right then and there.
I didn’t even care that I had to stand next to Gates who was mumbling something rather evil under his breath. I was on cloud nine.
“And your final, but definitely not least right chaser for the England International Team is… James Potter!”
I have never heard a crowd cheer so loud in my life. James stood up, a large smile on his face as cameras began to flash and people seemed ready to stand up and give him a standing ovation. I found myself smiling at him as he made his way to the podium and shook Ethan’s hand. Ethan whispered something to James who let out a hearty laugh. There was the James Potter that I knew. He took his spot next to me and cameras immediately began to flash again. Caleb smacked James on the back in greeting and James nodded at him. This was the International Team. I’ve never felt higher and mightier in my life.
Especially because Tyler was still grunting and trying to prevent himself from grabbing towards his groin.
Author's Note: So hopefully this longer chapter makes up for the fact that it has been 3 months since I updated.... no? Then just come to my house and castrate me, I suppose. Then no more Gigi and James if you do that! AND IT WAS JUST GETTING GOOD :P. Anyways, I wanted to thank you all for your loving support of this story. It means the world to me for those of you who have just came in and those of you who have been reading from the beginning. This is SERIOUSLY for all of you readers out there... more for the reviewers, but whatever ;D
We were winning. The crowd was cheering. I could hear my name ringing through the whole stadium. I flew past my family as Lily pumped her hand into the air and Mum flashed me a winning smile. Al and Dad looked indifferent, but who gave a shite about them anyways? I had my adoring fans and most of my family’s support. I did another victory lap as the Magpies pounded their broomsticks with their fists in frustration.
What did they expect? We were the Falcons. They were going to lose no matter what.
“Bloody hell, what’s that?” The commentator shouted. Suddenly the whole stadium was dark and the lights had to flicker on, though nothing made up for sunlight on a Quidditch Pitch. I turned my attention towards the opposite end of the field to see a figure flying towards me at a slow, angelic pace. People began to whisper and watch the dark figure float towards me.
It was Harley Chilton.
He had a devious smirk on his face as he stopped in front of me. I glared at him. He was ruining my atmosphere. This was my game! He snatched the quaffle out of my hand and twirled it on his fingers. I went to steal it back but it seemed like my broom jerked in the opposite direction whenever I lunged for him. His laugh echoed through the whole stadium as he tossed it up to himself and caught it with ease. It was like he was dangling it in front of my face.
“That’s my quaffle!” I protested. He tilted his head to the side.
“Did I steal your quaffle?” He questioned as though he was speaking to a toddler. “Just like I stole your girl, huh?”
That’s when I saw Gigi come flying from the opposite side of the pitch, her dark hair whipping behind her like it always did when she flew. She skidded to a stop in front of us, her olive skin shining in the light from the stadium. She was wearing her uniform, except she was in the un-regulation shorts she had at the beginning of the season. She had a stone face on, staring straight at me. Then just as suddenly as she had appeared, her lips were locked with Harley’s and the whole crowd was cheering.
“No!” I protested, but that just egged them on more and the crowd became a roaring in my ear. “Knock it off!”
“James?” I heard my name and immediately snapped upright in my bed. I felt the beads of sweat dripping down my face as my eyes darted open and I saw Lily leaning over my bed, her face etched with worry.
“Bloody hell, Lils. You scared me.” I mumbled, attempting to wipe the sweat from my brow.
“I let myself in and heard you screaming in here. Are you all right?” She asked, sitting down on the edge of my bed. I sat up, attempting to drag the covers up to my chest. My little sister didn’t need to see that.
“M’fine.” I told her. She looked at me skeptically, but knew better than to push me into an answer.
“I knew you had off of practice today and I thought I’d see if you wanted to get some lunch, possibly.” Lily said, watching me as I rubbed my eyes to attempt to shake the tiredness.
“I had a long night.” I lied easily to her. Was I guilty of something if I could lie this well to my sister? The answer is no, because that’s what siblings do.
“You’re a git, you liar. Freddie said you wouldn’t come out with him last night. You were too busy lounging on your couch to get up.” Lily proclaimed. I vaguely remember Freddie appearing in my flat, to which I grunted and groaned as the popcorn bowl on my lap got half eaten by him. He had tried to get me up off the couch to which he received a punch to the stomach. He had given up then.
“I had to watch some film from a couple of games ago.” I told her. It was true. I had watched the Falcons demolish the Sweetwater All-Stars until Gigi had gotten called for a foul and they zoomed in on her face swearing profusely. That was two minutes in.
“Then you deserve to take your little sister out for lunch!” Lily said, slapping my leg. I groaned at her. Did she always have to be so chipper?
“I don’t feel up to it, Lils.” I tried, but I had a feeling she wasn’t going to take no for an answer.
“Don’t make me get all sentimental and start talking about my feelings, James. I will. I start my period in a week, so-“
“Ah! Stop! My ears will bleed!” I shouted over her, covering my ears and jumping out of bed.
“Well you just made my eyes bleed!” Lily shrieked, covering up her eyes. I looked down to see myself only in boxers.
Eh, could’ve been worse. I normally sleep in the nude.
I dropped the bag of tea in the cup a couple of times, not taking my eyes off of it. I could feel Lily’s eyes on me, but I didn’t look up at her. Her eyes were studying me thoroughly. She was attempting her best to hold in all the questions she had, but if I knew my little sister well enough, I knew it would only be a matter of seconds before she bombarded me. I added a spoonful of sugar to my tea, stirring it deliberately in order to not have to confront Lily.
“James.” She demanded my attention. I groaned, but immediately looked up at her with raised eyebrows. She had Mum’s demanding voice. Lily knew how to get what she wanted.
“Lils, I don’t know what you want me to say.” I told her. I honestly didn’t. I didn’t understand why she thought I was in such a slump. I wasn’t! I needed to keep my head focused so I could take the Falcons to the championship and then take England to the World Cup. Was it that hard for people to understand? This was Quidditch we were talking about, not a stupid ministry job.
“Talk to me, James. Tell me what has been going on with you. You’ve shut everyone out and all we are trying to do is help.” Was it really this hard to understand that I had a dedication to Quidditch?
“It’s championship time, Lily. Plus, England needs me to get that World Cup from those damn Germans!” I told her. She didn’t seem to believe me, though, as she sighed and placed her hands on the table. I felt the lecture coming.
“Remember when Quidditch wasn’t everything?” Lily asked me. I snorted.
“When was that, exactly?” I questioned back.
“When Gigi joined the team.” She stated simply. My jaw immediately clenched as I glared at her.
“That’s not true.” I defended myself. It was Lily’s turn to raise her eyebrows at me.
“Do you realize that since Gigi got here, you haven’t been religiously eating protein bars, you have completely forgotten about your calorie calendar, and you honestly look a bit thin? Your muscles seem almost to have disappeared.” I looked down at my biceps. I flexed them, watching them bulge out slightly. Pfft. Lily didn’t know what she was talking about. I was the perfect size.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about, Lily.” I hissed at her. She rolled her eyes at me, dismissing what I had said.
“I just really thought she was good for you, James.” Lily stated, taking a long sip from her tea and not making eye contact.
“I thought so too.” I whispered pathetically. I had thought that Gigi was something different. I had thought that she was so very perfect for me. She loved Quidditch just as much as I did. We had the same dedication to the game and the same type of dedication in our lives. Somewhere along the line it had become more than just a fake relationship. I had thought it was real.
Obviously Gigi had not felt the same.
“Excuse me?” I heard the small squeaky voice to my left. Turning rather slowly, I noticed a small boy, not even old enough to be in magic school, ringing his knitted cap in his hands nervously.
“Well hey there!” I said enthusiastically. I had a soft spot for kids.
“Could I possibly get your autograph? My brother wouldn’t let me live it down if I didn’t at least ask,” He had that hopeful smile on his face that no celebrity can resist.
“Connor?! I turn my back for two seconds and you wander off!” A woman with freakishly large black hair scolded, hobbling over to us in her five inch boots.
“Mum, but it’s James Potter!” Connor tried to defend himself. I felt my face flush slightly.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Potter. My son apparently forgot his manners when we left the house today.” She scolded, her eyes narrowing on her son.
“It’s not a problem. I would love to give him an autograph.” I quickly grabbed the scratch paper and pen and scribbled my name on it. If it is one thing you don’t want to publicize, it is signing autographs for people. Then suddenly, everyone would be begging for one. People would be asking for my autograph even if they didn’t know who I was.
“Thanks Mr. Potter!” Connor said as his mother dragged him out of the shop.
“James Potter?” I heard a high pitched voice squeal from the doorway. A blonde, thin, all legs woman squealed as she came rushing over to me, her heels clicking annoyingly on the floor.
“Can we help you?” Lily asked. I could already see the Lily Potter judgment going on right now. She had two older brothers who seemed to date many girls in school that she had never approved on. The way her lips pursed and her eyebrows raised said it all.
“I just wanted to tell you that Genevieve Jacobs is a slag and you deserve so much better!” She chirped, smiling at me. I sighed.
Why can’t I get rid of people wanting to talk to me about Gigi?
“Now I am very proud of the two of you, but we must focus on the end stretch of the Falcon’s season. I expect the very best from my two star chasers and I’m getting mediocre at best. I don’t care if you’re in the middle of a divorce; I want you to play like you are my Falcon chasers! Potter, you will suck up your pride and pass the quaffle to Jacobs more. Jacobs, you will have some dignity and look Potter in the eye. I warned your publicists that your relationship better not get in the way of this game and I will make bloody sure it doesn’t. Is that understood?” Coach Smithson’s eyes were narrowed into slits as he glared at Gigi and I. We sat in front of his oversized desk, practically sinking into the leather seats.
“Understood.” I squeaked. Oh dear Merlin, why do I have to embarrass myself with squeaking sometimes? I thought puberty was over.
“Yes, sir.” Gigi mumbled. She didn’t seem quite as terrified as I was of Coach. Then again, she got yelled at a lot more than I did.
“Good. Now go practice. You two need it.” He demanded, waving us away. I immediately jumped up, Gigi slowly following. We started to make our way towards the pitch. I wanted to glance back at her, but I could hear her tiny footsteps too close. I didn’t want to look at her. I barely wanted to talk to her or play Quidditch with her.
“He’s right you know.” She said through the silence of the halls. I didn’t respond. “We have to play like normal.”
“My playing is just fine.” I grumbled. I heard her sigh, but I still didn’t turn around.
“How long are you going to stay angry with me?” She asked me. I didn’t know the answer to that question, so I didn’t respond. She grunted in frustration. “Whatever. I’m done playing these stupid games with you.”
Now that made me angry. These games? These games weren’t what I had created. These “games” were all Gigi. She was the one messing with my head. She was the one that I thought had feelings for me one minute and then distanced herself from me the next. She’s the one that was difficult to read. Gigi was the one who was playing the games. I was just trapped in between it all. I was an innocent bystander to the ultimate Genevieve Jacobs mind twist.
“Don’t you dare try to pin any of this on me.” I hissed in her direction.
“Oh so you’re saying none of this is your fault? We fake dated because of you!” She defended. I stopped dead in my tracks, turning around to face her with a glare.
“You agreed to it. You wanted your fame and your fortune. You wanted the world to notice you. You got that, Jacobs. Yet that wasn’t good enough. You had to be the best. You had to make sure everyone was below you so you humiliated me in front of the whole world. You stepped all over me to get what you want. Now that you’re on the top, what’s next, Jacobs? Now that you’re alone, what are you going to do?” I asked her harshly. I knew it was inappropriate for me to say, but there was just something about Gigi that brought out the most powerful emotions in me. Even if they were bad.
Then suddenly, I saw something different in her eyes that I had never seen on her before. I could see the water pool at the bottom of her lids and her forehead crease to prevent them from falling. She wasn’t sad, she was hurt by my words. Gigi was pounded on daily out on the pitch and she never shed a tear. I was taken back. I didn’t know what to do. She shook her head and looked at the ground. Then she suddenly wiped at her eyes, trying to get rid of the tears. I was speechless. I opened my mouth, trying to form some sort of apology, but nothing happened. I had sadly meant what I said.
“I didn’t mean for any of that to happen, James. You have to believe me.” She whispered, looking back up at me, all sign of the tears gone.
“I wish I could, Gigi.” I answered her, my jaw clenching. She nodded her head in understanding. I knew she would be just as mad at me. Or at least I hoped.
“You do deserve better than that.” She added in. I nodded my head. I did. I may not deserve the best, but I didn’t deserve to be cheated on. Even if we were fake dating.
“Let’s go practice.” I told her, turning around and starting towards the Pitch.
“Wait!” Gigi called, grabbing my arm. Then it was like everything was in slow motion. I turned and she was a lot closer than I expected her to be. Her arm tingled on the spot she had placed it and she didn’t seem ready to remove it any time soon. I glanced down at her hand and when I looked back up, I swear she was scooted closer. I felt my heart beat pick up. I was the man! I was the one that was supposed to control this type of situation.
“Gigi-“ I started, but she cut me off, swiftly pressing her lips against my own. I was shocked. So shocked that I stayed frozen, not kissing back. She broke it off once realizing I wasn’t responding and her cheeks were flushed.
“I-I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have-“ She said, but cut herself short with a shake of her head and a laugh. “I’m so pathetic.” She whispered to herself.
“No! I just…I wasn’t ready for that.” I told her, trying to make her feel better.
“James, you don’t have to say that. I don’t know what got into me.” Gigi said. “Let’s just go practice.”
I couldn’t let her go. Not after that. My lips still tingled slightly. I quickly grabbed her arm and pulled her back towards me. I forgot how this had felt. I heard her breath hitch in her throat in shock and I immediately took my opportunity. I leaned down, both of my arms wrapped around her slim figure, and kissed her. She immediately responded to my lips and suddenly it was like it was like the last month hadn’t happened. It was like Gigi and I were still figuring out our feelings and reacting on instinct. Boy did I like her instincts.
She pressed herself harder against me and I felt my body easily respond. Hey, I’m a man, what do you expect? We kept our lips attached, our tongues dancing with one another in their seductive dance, as I backed her up into a wall. Except it apparently wasn’t a wall, but a door. Gigi went to catch her breath and I found myself attaching my lips onto her neck. She gasped, reaching behind her and opening the door. I peeked an eye open, I saw a small custodian closet. She immediately pulled me straight into it, slamming it shut behind her. Our lips were reattached.
I couldn’t tell you how it happened, but suddenly there were clothes off, hands everywhere, body parts in places they should not be, and mops poking me in the wrong way. The passion had never left Gigi and I and suddenly it had boiled over. I didn’t care about Chilton anymore. I didn’t care that what we had was fake. I cared about Gigi and she cared about me. This had to prove something, right? I mean, you can’t make a woman make those noises and her not care about you. It is just pretty impossible.
We both sat up against the closet wall, our breathing very heavy. It was dark, so I could only see her outline. She ran a hand through her hair (which I’m pretty sure I had messed up very expertly). She took a big sigh and turned her head towards me. I didn’t have to see to be able to let my lips find her own and kiss her. It was like a magnet. I felt her smile against my lips and that’s when I knew that everything was okay. We were okay. Even if she hadn’t directly apologized, this was good enough for me. Better than good enough, it was the perfect apology.
“We should have fights more often for that kind of make-up shag.” I joked. I got a smack on my bare chest for that.
“We could’ve had a perfectly romantic moment there and you just ruined it, Potter.” Gigi retorted. I laughed at her, wrapping a sweaty arm around her. She pretended to protest, but cuddled in way too fast for a real fight.
“I’m surprised you had your expectations that high.” I responded. I felt her laugh lightly into my chest.
“We should get to practice.” She mumbled. She didn’t move. Either did I.
“They’re going to come looking for us.” I added. We both sighed, but neither of us made the first move. That was until we heard footsteps echoing off of the corridor walls.
“James and Gigi wouldn’t ditch practice. That’s not their style!” Chris’s voice came. I didn’t need Gigi’s elbow to the stomach to know we had to rush to put our clothes back on. It is a lot easier said then done when it’s pitch black in the closet.
“Do you think they got kidnapped? Someone could get a lot of money for those two.” Adam said.
“You’re pathetic.” Chris groaned.
“Like you wouldn’t kidnap them if you knew you’d get a million galleons a piece for them?” Adam asked. I could practically hear Chris roll his eyes.
“Gigi would snap your neck before you had the chance to kidnap her,” Matt’s voice joined the others. Gigi snickered from next to me. It was true.
“I think I could take her.” Adam responded, his voice fading slightly away as Matt and Chris chimed in on Adam’s inability to take on Gigi.
“I think the coast is clear.” Gigi whispered. Nodding, I cracked the door open and peeked out. No one was there. I still felt the need to tip toe out and use my hands to gesture for Gigi to follow me. Quietly, I closed the door behind her.
“There you guys are! We’ve been looking everywhere for you!” Scott called, rushing from the opposite side of the corridor with Barry.
“Sorry, we were just…” Gigi trailed off, not being able to find a good enough excuse at the top of her head. Barry and Scott both raised their eyebrows at us.
“We weren’t missing for that long, were we?” I questioned. Barry looked down at his watch.
“About half hour or so.” Barry answered. I smirked at Gigi, ready to make an inappropriate comment when she cut me off with a glare.
“Coach mad?” Gigi asked. Scott rolled his eyes.
“Please. He thought you two were making up and because you played so well when you were together, he was perfectly fine with you being gone. Let us go look for you after a half hour because he figured James wasn’t that good.” Scott joked, Barry laughing along with him. I smirked at Gigi. I really was that good.
“Let’s go then, boys! We aren’t going to win the League Cup just standing around are we?” Gigi raised her eyebrows at us. Barry stuck his tongue out at her, but retreated back towards the pitch. She went to follow, thought better of it, and turned towards me.
“What?” I asked her. She was biting her lip, looking at me nervously.
“What exactly just happened?” She asked for clarification.
“I can show you again if you’d like.” I told her, immediately cringing when she reached forward and smacked my arm.
“We will talk later, okay?” She said. I nodded, smacking her butt when she turned away and smirked.
I couldn’t have felt better than right now.
Author's Note: This one was for those of you who kept saying you wanted a James point of view again. This one was for all of you who kept yelling at me to get them back together. This one was for a bit of confusion as well. You'll see what I mean in the next chapter ;). Did you like it? A little out of the ordinary, but it will all make sense next chapter! At least this cliff hanger wasn't as bad as what I've left you with in the past ;).
What did I get myself into? I didn’t know what I was supposed to do. I felt at a complete loss for words and for actions. My mind spun, but nothing made sense. I had thoughts filling ever crook of my brain, but they were all so loud that I couldn’t understand them. The words mixed together in the scream that wanted to escape my throat. My head was pounding from the mere force of all of the words in my brain. I couldn’t get rid of any of it. I couldn’t it stop. So what do I do?
I fly. It’s what I do best after all.
The wind whipped at my hair, sending it in a flame behind me. My gloves gripped my broomstick firmly, guiding it this way and that. My feet were hooked comfortably in their own small spots. My body was pressed against the broom, willing it to go faster. My eyes watered from the pressure put against them, but that didn’t stop me. I just kept flying. I looked up at the sky, the sun not even warming my skin. Nothing could make me feel less cold than I felt right now.
I came to a stop, looking out over the Falcon’s field. When I came to this team, I had been so set on becoming the player I needed to be. I had my goals set high and I had intended on reaching them. Nothing else had mattered to me. I had always had certain morals I always found it necessary to follow. Mostly like I didn’t need a personal life to be the Quidditch player I wanted to be. Quidditch was everything. Quidditch was what would ultimately make me happy. I needed to be remembered for something. I needed to be remembered for all the hard work and dedication I showed the game. Something in my life had to matter.
I heard a loud whistle come from the field below. I looked down to see Matt wrapped up in his winter jacket, waving at me to come down. As much as I wanted to stay in the air, I flew down, landing rather ungracefully in front of Matt. I took a deep breath, flipping my messy hair away from my face. Matt studied me for a second, his arms crossed in front of him. I couldn’t read his expression. That was the thing about Matt Hankin: he was a locked door that not even ‘alohomora’ could open. Matt would drink and play Quidditch, a good joke here and there, but never was one to discuss much more. To normal women, he probably looked hot and brooding. To me, he looked lost in his own world.
“What do you want?” I asked, though I found my tone a lot more biting than I intended. Matt didn’t look affronted by my actions in the least. It was like he was expecting it.
“What the bloody hell are you doing?” Matt asked me, his eyebrows furrowing at me.
“Flying?” I tried. He sighed deeply at me.
“Don’t you think all of this is a little over kill?” He gestured down at my broom.
“We are headed to the championship. I felt it was appropriate to practice a bit,” I informed him, feeling the cold finally begin to numb my fingers. Matt sighed.
For the last week and a half of the post season, the Falcons crushed all of their opponents. As we had ranked first in the league, we had gotten straight to the second round, defeating the Ballycastle Bats and then crushing the Wasps. In our last game of our division, we had skidded by the Arrows, who put up a very good fight. It went right to the last minute. Chris had barely caught the snitch. Yet in the end, we became victorious. So of course, going into the championship game, we were going to play the one team that I never wanted to have to see again….or should I say, the person I’d never want to see again. Tyler Gates and the Chudley Cannons.
“You’re avoiding everyone.” Matt crossed his arms, waiting for my response. It was true. I had been avoiding people. More importantly, I had been avoiding James. Ever since the whole…situation, I wasn’t sure how I was going to deal with it. With him. I told him he would talk, but somehow through all of the practicing and games and parties, I had easily dodged him. He didn’t seem all to concerned with my dodging. I think to him, he was chalking it up to the pressures of Quidditch.
“I am trying to be the best player I can be, Matt.” I grumbled, heading away from the pitch and towards the locker room. Matt followed.
“Do you realize it has been two weeks since you talked to Potter?” Matt questioned. Why did Matt have to know everything?
“I didn’t.” I lied, avoiding Matt’s knowing gaze. He put his arm into mine, making me fall into step with him.
“Heard you guys slept together….again.” I didn’t look at Matt as I felt my cheeks flushing.
“Who told you that?” I had to buy time to come up with a good excuse.
“James.” Matt stated. Great. Even better. “You can’t avoid him together.”
I wanted to tell Matt that I could. The thought of talking to James made me feel sick. I didn’t know what I was going to say and I didn’t know what I wanted from the two of us. I didn’t have time to concentrate on that. Flying needed my attention now. Then suddenly, I actually did feel sick. It wasn’t just the thought of James that made me sick, I was actually going to be sick. I quickly shoved into the locker rooms and stumbled to the bathroom, finding the nearest toilet just in time as I vomited breakfast. Matt had somehow managed to catch up just in time to see the croissant I had eaten.
“Potter makes me sick sometimes too.” Matt was leaning against the wall. He was so used to people throwing up (mainly himself) that I was sure the sight of me vomiting didn’t disturb him. Once I felt like all of the contents of my stomach were gone, I leaned my head against the cold stone wall.
“The thought of having that talk with him is what makes me feel so sick.” I admitted. Matt put a hand on my lower back.
“Didn’t think you meant literally.” Matt joked. I sent him a cold glare. Sighing, he waved his wand and a damp towel was in his hand. He placed it on my forehead.
“Shut up.” I mumbled, but didn’t reject his kind gesture.
“Let’s get you home, Juliet.” Matt said, pulling me to my feet. I felt my stomach reject the movement and I immediately folded back into the toilet. Better the toilet than Matt’s sweater.
I wrapped myself into my blanket, folding up onto the couch. All I wanted was a bowl of tomato soup and some saltines crackers. I imagined dipping the saltines into the soup and watching them absorb all of the tomato-y goodness. Mmm. Tempting. Ever since throwing up in the locker room, I had felt achy and rather ill. This couldn’t be at a worse time. I had more important things to do than to be sick. There was more practicing and…more practicing.
There came a loud knock at the door. I moaned, ignoring it as I rolled onto my side, cuddling into a decorative pillow. The knock echoed in my ears again. It made my head pound and I felt my stomach churn again. No, I wasn’t going to throw up on my brand new area rug. It just wouldn’t happen. Closing my eyes, I tried to again ignore the pounding, but whoever it was, they were way too persistent. I mumbled profanities as I got to my feet, dragging myself towards the door. I pulled it open and was immediately greeted by the grinning faces of Gabby and Jenny. Joy.
“You look like hell.” Gabby said, frowning at me. I glared daggers, but didn’t bother to respond, going back to the couch as they followed me in.
“What happened to you?” Jenny asked, plopping down in the
arm chair opposite me. Gabby took a seat by my feet and tried to comfortingly rub my leg.
“Mm’sick.” I mumbled. Jenny and Gabby shared a worried look.
“Right before the championship?” Jenny asked. I nodded.
“I’ll be fine.” I reassured them. They didn’t look very reassured.
“You better play. We didn’t come all this way for nothing!” Jenny said. Gabby reached over and smacked her.
“Don’t you care for your little sister?” Gabby asked Jenny, who just shrugged. I couldn’t find the capacity to care, really.
“So going out tonight is out of the question?” Jenny asked, sighing as Gabby gave her another glare.
“Why don’t we have a healer look at you?” Gabby suggested. I groaned. I hated going to healers when I was sick. I barely liked doing it when I was hurt in Quidditch.
“I’ll be fine.” I repeated. Gabby got to her feet, walking around me and into the kitchen. I heard her going through cupboards.
“You don’t have soup?” Gabby called from the kitchen. Jenny smirked at me, putting her feet up on the coffee table. It was still so weird to me that Gabby and Jenny were opposites in every way possible. While Gabby was calm, loving and passive, Jenny was loud, boisterous, and aggressive. When I needed to talk about my feelings, I would easily go to Gabby. When I needed to have a good time, I went to Jenny. I still found it so impossible to believe that we were all related. So different, yet it was really easy to come together and be sisters.
“I don’t cook.” I called into the kitchen. Gabby peeked around the corner, holding a roll of crackers. She came in, tossing them onto my lap.
“I lived off of those when I was pregnant.” Jenny said nonchalantly, staring at her finger nails. I looked at her.
“That’s not funny.” I growled. She shrugged. I felt my stomach stir again as I tried to open the crackers. Instead, I threw the crackers and sprinted to the bathroom. I really wasn’t sure what I was throwing up anymore since I hadn’t eaten anything in a good day or so. I felt Gabby rubbing circles on my back as Jenny held my hair.
I felt pathetic, but I suppose I’d rather feel this way in front of my sisters than anyone else.
The doorbell rang through the flat again. I groaned, leaning my head against the cold bathtub next to me.
“I’ll get it.” Gabby mumbled, getting off the ground and leaving the bathroom.
“Who is it?” I asked Jenny in an exhausted voice.
“WHO IS IT?” Jenny shouted, her voice echoing off of the bathroom walls. I groaned, but didn’t bother protesting. There was silence and then Gabby peeked her head in the bathroom, her face slightly red.
“It’s Potter.” She whispered. I hadn’t gotten the chance to fill Gabby and Jenny in on anything that was James. They just had the tabloids to listen to and they always knew those were wrong.
“Tell him she’s sick.” Jenny told Gabby.
“Matt told him she was sick and wanted to check up on her.” Gabby explained. Jenny looked at me with raised eyebrows.
“Want us to send him away?” Jenny asked. I shook my head, pushing myself off of the ground.
“No, I’ve got to talk to him.” I told them. They both shared a worried look, but I didn’t even bother to wave it off. It was true. The championship game was around the corner and I hadn’t talked to James about our incident.
In truth, I didn’t know what I was going to say to him. The “incident” was a passionate mess. I hadn’t meant to do it, it had simply happened. Did I regret it? To a certain point I did. Not that I wasn’t fantastic, it always was, but I had made that vow when I came here to keep Quidditch at the front of my mind and with James and my relationship getting in the way of that, it made things a bit troublesome. If there was one thing I learned from my past, it was that the things that are going to carry you through life are yourself and Quidditch.
I couldn’t let anything or anyone stand in the way of Quidditch. Not even James Potter.
James was standing in the doorway when I emerged from the bathroom, wringing his hands nervously. He ran one of those hands through his hair, messing it up even more than it already was. This was the first time we were alone (other than my sisters in the bathroom) since the broom closet. I smiled sheepishly, though my stomach and muscles ached as I did this. James immediately stepped forward, worry etched on every inch of his face. I held up my hand to stop him. I didn’t need help.
“I’m fine.” I told him, though that was far from the truth. I saw him sigh, but nod all the same.
“Want to sit down?” He asked me. I nodded, going around the couch and taking my favorite cushion. He sat down next to me. There was a stretch of silence. I knew James would want me to talk first, but I couldn’t find the appropriate words.
“Are you sure you’re okay? My grandmum makes the most amazing cold soup-“ James started, but I shook my head to cut him off.
“I’m fine, James. Really.” I insisted. He looked at me, studying my face. Okay, so maybe fine wasn’t the right word to use, but it was all I could say.
“I was beginning to think you were avoiding me after a couple of weeks ago. Haven’t been alone together since then.” James explained. I felt a flush creep up my cheeks. I was avoiding him.
“Look James… I just-“ I felt myself beginning my speech. The “we should just be friends” speech, but James cut me off.
“Gigi, you need to figure out what you want. One minute you are telling me you don’t have feelings for me and the next you are shagging me in a broom closet. I need to know what you feel for me. I don’t want this speech about how Quidditch comes first, because we both know we could make it work if you were willing to. If you like me at all, Gigi, you need to tell me. If not, I would appreciate it if we stopped shagging.” James said this in practically one breath. I think he had practiced it a few times. I blinked, taken back by his words.
“Okay.” Was all I could say. He did a double take, furrowing his eyebrows at me.
“Okay?” he repeated, not quite sure I had said it.
“I”ll let you know. Before the championship game.” I told him. He nodded, still in a bit of a confused dazed, but knowing he was going to get what he wanted.
“Well, alright then.” He mumbled, getting to his feet. “I’ll see you at the meeting tonight, then.”
He left and didn’t glance back at me.
Before I had a second to register what the hell had just happened, Gabby and Jenny were in the room, staring at me, waiting for me to say anything. I couldn’t come up with a single word. Jenny pursed her lips and Gabby was at my side in a moment, wrapping her arms around my shoulder and putting her head on my arm. They both stared at the door with me, probably equally as confounded as I was. Jenny put a hand on my opposite shoulder, trying her best to be affectionate, but this was definitely not her strong suit.
“That was a bit awkward.” Jenny stated. I nodded. That it was.
“While you two were having your weird moment, we called the doctor and got you in! Half hour! Let’s go!” Gabby informed quickly, her arms already placed around me so that we were out the door the minute she said this.
They are smarter than they look.
“You could’ve at least let me changed!” I whined, pulling at my over-sized sweat shirt and grimacing as I ran my tongue over my teeth that I hadn’t gotten the opportunity to brush after throwing up.
“You wouldn’t have gone if we wouldn’t have taken you right away,” Jenny said, brushing passed a small boy who was whining to his mother about his stomach ache.
“Point taken.” I mumbled. We approached the receptionist who looked like she had swallowed two hippogriffs and wasn’t sure which end she was supposed to force them out of. She grimaced upon seeing someone approaching her, but put the fake smile on her face nonetheless.
“Can I help you?” She drawled, looking at us over her spectacles.
“Appointment for my sister here, Gigi Jacobs.” Jenny told her, giving me a swift pat on the shoulder. I moaned at the ache that caused me.
“Head back to room 412.” She looked down at her paperwork in front of us, not giving a second glance. I just shrugged, letting myself be dragged down the corridor by the girls. We passed pictures who didn’t seem worried that Gigi Jacobs was walking their halls. They looked at me like I was a normal person. For once. Hmm. Maybe healers weren’t all that bad.
I sighed, pushing open the door.
The room was like any old exam room. There was a sterilized bed with white sheets that I knew had to be changed every time a new patient was on it, but I still felt like I was going to come down with dragon pox if I sat on it. The rooms were bright white, so bright that I got a headache looking at it. The room was so painful to be in that I felt even sicker. The gloves were lined perfectly on the wall and the lights made the room have a certain temperature to it that made a small sweat break on my forehead.
“I hate healer visits.” I mumbled, sitting in one of the chairs lining the opposite wall.
“If you want to be better for the championship, you’ll suck it up.” Jenny said, sitting down next to me and kicking her feet up on the bed. Gabby rolled her eyes, sitting on the edge of the bed, facing us. Gabby grabbed a magazine from a rack and began to flip through the pages.
“He can fix me, right?” I grumbled. I felt like a spoiled child, but I hated being sick.
“We can find out my abilities together.” I heard from the door and saw a middle aged man standing in the doorway, a large grin on his face. If he wasn’t middle aged and a healer, I would have found him attractive.
“Hello!” Jenny said, putting a hand on my arm. “My dear sister here is sick and needs our healing abilities.”
“Let’s see what I can do, then.” He said, smiling at Jenny and waving his wand, a chair with wheels appearing in front of me. He sat down on it, pursing his lips as he studied my pale face for a bit and then put his wand to my forehead. There was a small beep and I felt a cold rush fall over me.
“What was that?” I asked him. He pulled his wand away from my forehead.
“Just a precaution.” He said, leaning back and folding his hands into his lap. “So what brings you here, Ms. Jacobs?”
“My sisters.” I told him. He chuckled when Gabby shot me a dirty glare.
“That’s normally the only way I get athletes in here.” The Healer stated, twirling his wand in his hands.
“She’s got this nasty bug or something. Throwing up everywhere.” Gabby explained.
“I’m sure I’d be fine with just a bit of sleep.” I tried, but the Healer seemed to ignore me, spinning around in his chair.
“You’re the player that dated Potter, right?” The Healer asked me, continuing his spinning.
“Yes.” I grumbled. I felt my stomach spin again. I was glad there was no more vomit left in me.
“Sexually active, I presume?” He questioned.
“Isn’t that a bit personal?” Jenny asked. I felt my face flush.
“Yes.” I answered him shortly, ignoring Jenny’s comments. He nodded again, going back to his spinning.
“Have you been in contact with anyone who has had dragon pox or spattergroit?” The Healer asked. Isn’t he supposed to just know what’s wrong with me? Isn’t he supposed to just fix me and make everything better?
“I’m not sure,” I answered him, feeling the irritability crawl up my skin.
“Well, let’s run a few tests and while those are getting analyzed, why don’t you two make Gigi choke down some tea and a cup of onion soup, no matter how much she protests. Once that is down, then feel free to come back and I can fix you all up!”
“I don’t like onions.” I protested, but Gabby had already hopped off the bed and had gotten me to my feet.
“To the cafeteria!” Jenny chanted, grabbing my other arm and skipping out of the exam room.
Though my nose was a little stuffy, the soup smelled horrible. It smelled like old Quidditch socks and Freddie Weasley’s boxers. Not that I remembered how that smelled. Ew. I cringed, looking up at Gabby and Jenny, hoping they would suddenly tell me that I didn’t have to eat this and we could be on our merry way. No dice as they both glared at me. I felt a whimper escape my throat as I took a small spoonful and nearly vomited all over again.
“This is torture!” I whined at them.
“Eat up, darling.” Gabby said. Jenny seemed to be enjoying herself as she watched my tortured expressions.
“You’re a sadist, you know that?” I glared at Jenny, who continued to smirk at me.
“That’s saying a lot coming from you,” I heard a voice say behind me. I didn’t have the energy to spin around, but I let the person take the seat next to me. I smiled when I saw Rose Weasley sit next to me, wearing a healer’s jacket.
“I didn’t know you were a healer!” I exclaimed.
“I’m just in training.” She explained. “What brings you here? Sick?”
“We had to force her to come. Wasn’t going to make it to the championship game like this,” Gabby explained.
“I’m fine.” I repeated for what felt like the millionth time today.
“And I’m the Minister of Magic,” Jenny said sarcastically. I stuck my tongue out at her, putting my face near the top of my tea cup, letting the heat warm my cheeks. It felt nice.
“Can I have some chips instead of this?” I asked, pushing the soup away from me.
“Chips? Really? You can’t even keep down crackers and you want chips?” Jenny raised her eyebrows at me. Well, chips just sounded good right now.
“Who’s your healer?” Rose asked, taking a rather large bite of her sandwich.
“Healer Wellins.” Gabby answered for me.
“He’s good. Should fix you up really well. You’ll be better in no time!” Rose said, smiling at me. I hadn’t seen Rose in a while so it was strange to me how comfortable she felt.
“Speaking of which, let’s go check if the results are back yet. Come on, Jen.” Gabby got up, grabbing Jenny’s arm and pulling her along with her. I think Jenny enjoyed watching me try to force the soup down my throat more than she should have.
“Your sisters?” Rose questioned, gesturing towards the retreating backs of Gabby and Jenny.
“Yeah, they’re in for the championship game.” I told her. It still felt weird talking to Rose, since I still wasn’t sure what I was doing about James. James Potter. He will be the death of me.
“They do have to make sure you’re well. You’ve got internationals after your championship game and England cannot afford you being ill.” Rose lectured, grinning at me the whole time. “Think you could score me some tickets? I have to see you lead them to the World Cup.”
“You do realize you have your own Quidditch star right in your family, right? Don’t let him hear you praising me,” I teased, finding myself smiling into my tea for the first genuine time in a good while.
“Speaking of which….mind telling me why James was jumping off the wall a week or so ago and now he seems ready to go to war?” Rose asked. She had strange analogies.
“It’s a long story.” I tried, but she didn’t seem ready to give up. She would protect James the same way he protected her.
“I’ve got a bit of time before I have to go back to work.” Rose countered. I dipped my tea bag a few times, trying to buy myself a few moments.
“Gigi? Your results are back,” Gabby said, placing a hand on my shoulder as she came up behind us. I wanted to kiss Gabby on the spot for saving me, but just found myself jumping to my feet as quickly as possible.
“We can talk later, Rose!” I called as I ran from the cafeteria.
“I’ve got good news and bad news.” The Healer informed us. I felt like I was about to be sentenced to Azkaban the way he was talking. “Which would you like first?”
“The good.” I informed him. I always pushed off the bad things until later.
“Well, we have figured out the problem!” He exclaimed. Great.
“And what is the problem?” I asked him.
“That’s the bad news.” He began, sighing as he looked down at the charts in his hands. I glanced down, but couldn’t see what his scribbled writing was. “I’m sorry to say that you’ll be out of Quidditch for a good year.”
I felt my stomach drop to my feet in a matter of seconds. He couldn’t be serious. That was a lie. Was this some type of horrible prank? Was this a joke? Where were my teammates? Surely they had put him up to this. They wanted to scare me right before the big game. That sounded like an Adam and Barry prank. Very funny, boys. I wasn’t laughing. Sadly, neither was the Healer. I looked at Jenny and Gabby, hoping to see them ready to crack a joke, knowing that it was a lie. It had to be. Quidditch was my world.
“And why’s that?” Jenny asked the question we all wanted to hear. He swallowed, handing the clipboard over to me. I barely recognized any of the words on it, but then he pointed one of his slim fingers at the bottom of the page. I froze, unable to register what I saw.
“Those are your test results.” He explained.
I immediately began to cry for the first time in a long time.
Author's Note: OH MY GOD IS GIGI DYING?!?! Sorry for the long wait and the cliff hanger...did you expect any different?
I stared at the schedule on my immaculate desk. If I moved my hair appointment I could fit a nail appointment in right before Gigi’s final interview before the championship game. That way I can gesture wildly with my hands and they would look good. My roots might be showing for a bit longer, but it wasn’t like they had cameras on the ceiling that would be able to see them. Plus, no one was taller than me, so it really wasn’t that big of a deal. Nails it was.
I quickly changed that on the oversized schedule and went to text the hair stylist when I heard the office door opening. I groaned, hating it when people didn’t knock. It was rude and a lack of respect for the privacy of my office. I had just moved her a couple months ago when Gigi had gotten another ridiculous bonus (which I had taken a good portion of). Agents need to be supported better in the Quidditch field. I looked up to see a very pale, wild-haired Gigi. I cringed.
“Sally.” She greeted me.
“We should schedule you a spa day before you go on camera. You look like hell.” I told her. I was always blunt with Gigi. It was sort of how our relationship worked. She sat down in the chair opposite me. That was when I noticed the large bags under her eyes and the oversized sweatshirt she was wearing. Merlin, did this girl not know how to dress?
“I feel like hell.” She mumbled in a hoarse voice. “I’ve been throwing up all week.”
“Did you get something for that?” I asked her, looking down at my phone as I got the confirmation from the hair stylist.
“It’s not an easy cure.” Gigi mumbled. I looked up at her and saw her slouching in the chair, her hands on her stomach.
“You should sit up straighter. It’s not very lady-like to slouch.” I sighed. Would this girl never learn?
“I play Quidditch. How is that lady-like?” She asked rhetorically. I rolled my eyes, ignoring her as I ripped open an envelope, seeing another offer from an advertising agency. They wanted Gigi to sponsor a new broomstick. “What do you think about Firebolt 2000s?”
“The new Firebolt model?” She asked. I shrugged. Like hell if I knew. “They’re supposed to be very nice. Why?”
“They want you to sponsor the new broom,” I told her in a dull voice. She was silent (which was not normal). I looked up to see tears welling in her eyes. “Are you crying?”
“I can’t ride that broom.” She whispered. I leaned forward, my eyebrows raised.
“And why not? They are willing to pay you a good amount to sponsor this broom,” I lectured. Gigi was a bit too dedicated to this game and probably too attached to her broomstick. She really needed to sort out her priorities. Money should be number one.
“I can’t ride any broom for a year. Doctor’s orders.” She informed me. I felt my heart sink to my stomach at this. I could practically see the money disappearing right before my eyes at these words. I wanted to cry with her as I saw a tear slip down her porcelain face.
“Why the bloody hell not?!” I shrieked at her. This couldn’t be happening. Gigi was my only client and if she wasn’t making money, I wasn’t making money.
“Like with a child?” I asked her. She glared at me. “Pregnant women can’t play Quidditch?”
“Sally, don’t be ridiculous.” Gigi growled.
“Well, then I suppose I should be talking to diaper companies and seeing if they need advertising.” I grumbled, picking up my phone and getting ready to make phone calls.
“I don’t want to advertise this, Sally!” Gigi protested.
“Nonsense, how do you expect to make any money?” I asked her. Her face was growing red. At least she was getting color back in it.
“I have plenty.” She told me. I scoffed at her.
“You always need more!” I said in a sing-song voice, finding the number for the diaper company distributor. Bingo.
“Sally, I said no.” She growled.
“I’m your agent. I know what’s best.” I told her, not looking up from my phone as I punched in the number and threw it onto my ear. “Hello! Genevieve Jacob’s agent here! Now, I need-“
“Sally!” Gigi shouted, throwing a throw pillow from the opposite chair at me, knocking my phone right out of my hand.
“What the bloody hell was that for?!” I yelled back at her.
“You’re fired!” She yelled, getting up and stomping out.
Oh, she’d regret that.
“Healer Weasley?” I heard from behind me. I wanted to wipe the sweat from my brow, but spun around with a smile on my face. Why did full moons have to be so busy at St. Mungos?
“Yes?” I asked. The nurse had small bags under her eyes. St. Mungos was severely understaffed as of late and everyone was working double shifts. Many slept overnight in the on call room, just because they would only have a couple of hours before they would have to come back.
“Did you happen to have Room 216’s chart?” She asked me. I rubbed my tired eyes, trying to recall all the rooms I had been in today and all the charts I had been in contact with. I wanted to snap at her and tell her I had seen so many people today that I wouldn’t be able to possibly remember, but knew that a healer had been the one to send her to find me.
“I can look for it shortly.” I explained to her. She smiled at me, probably thankful I didn’t snap on her. She dashed out of the room, probably doing her healer’s dirty work again. I turned back to the smiling older man in front of me, who was decorated in the Falmouth Falcon’s gear.
“I want to keep you here overnight for observation, Mr. Matthews, but I don’t foresee any complications. You should be ready to go in the morning.” I explained to him. We had been battling his rather strange allergic reaction to his granddaughter’s pigmy puff all morning and had finally managed to get it under control.
“I’ll be able to see the game tomorrow, yeah?” His thick Scottish accent had so much hope in it. I laughed slightly and nodded my head. His whole face lit up at me.
“You better be rooting for my cousin,” I joked to him, crossing my arms and leaning against the end of his bed. It was always nice when we had a moment to stop and chat with a patient. Though I really probably had things to do, you had to indulge in a little customer service every now and then.
“Oh, I will be! Potter is beyond talented! Though I really was looking forward to seeing Jacobs out on the field. She was really powering through the stereotypes. Sad she won’t be playing.” He sighed. I almost had to do a double take.
“What do you mean Gigi isn’t playing?” I asked him. Gigi wouldn’t miss the championship game unless someone had her chained to an Azkaban cell.
“You didn’t hear?” He said. I shook my head, furrowing my eyebrows. Gigi had way too much talent to not be playing tomorrow.
“Apparently not.” I told him.
I felt way too many emotions slam into me at once. Confusion. Did James not know how to use the protection spell? Had Uncle Harry never showed him? Surprise. I barely knew James and Gigi had been shagging, let alone shagging enough to conceive. Enthusiasm. James was having a child! Gigi was going to be a mom! Anger. Why hadn’t anyone told me? Why was I first hearing through a patient? Most of all, I felt a wave of disappointment. Gigi’s dreams were all down the drain. James and Gigi didn’t even know where their relationship was at right now.
“I’ll check on you shortly.” I said, rushing out of the room. Once I stepped out, I took a deep breath, trying to collect my thoughts.
My first idea was rushing to Healer Wellins and ripping off his healer’s jacket.
I marched straight down the hall, in no particular direction. Wellins was probably in his office or in a room…somewhere. I stopped and sighed. I wanted to pull out my hair over the stress of the last few days. I suppose I hadn’t been around any of my family or around a wiz telly that would have told me about James’s predicament, but I was under the impression someone would have at least owled me to tell me that James was going to be a father. The Wotters were closer than that. I wanted to yell at James or Lily (who obviously knew), but the closest I could get at was Healer Wellins.
Yes, I understood how important patient confidentiality was, but Healer Wellins and I had a rather close professional relationship. When I first started, he had taken me under his wing and had showed me the ropes in everything. I always asked his opinion on things and he always guided me in the right direction. Sharing patient files amongst colleagues was common practice. He knew of Gigi’s relation to me. He knew should have told me. So he deserved the 36 hours of anger from lack of sleeping I had.
I came up to his office, swinging the door open with way too much force. It probably would have looked like a more dramatic entrance if Wellins was even in the room. I frowned, getting ready to turn around, when I saw a chart sitting on top of his neatly organized desk. Curiosity probably killed the Weasley as l crossed the room in two easy strides and stared at the front cover. Sure enough.
I mean, it could be someone else. It was possible that this wasn’t even Gigi’s chart. What was I even trying to look for in it anyways? My patient had told me everything. Gigi was pregnant and out of the games. James was going to be a father. Gigi’s career was ruined.
So why was I still so bloody curious?
Before I could stop myself, I grabbed the chart and flipped it open. All of her pertinent information was there: full name, blood type, date of birth, etc. It went through her medical history and the works. I passed all the boring stuff and looked at the tests he had performed. There was about ten on the list, varying from spattergroit to a muggle cold. Smack in the middle was the pregnancy test. I went to flip the page in the chart to see the results, but the second page was missing. I looked back on his desk to see if I had possibly missed it, but it wasn’t there.
I looked on the floor around where I had been standing, wondering if it had fallen out. No. I checked underneath the chair in front of his desk. No dice. I stepped around his desk, opening the drawers. Sure, there was a lot of different charts, but no second page of Gigi’s chart. This couldn’t be right. Why would Wellins not include the second page of her chart? The important page?
That’s when I heard voices talking outside of the office door. More importantly, Healer Wellins’ voice. Panicking, I scrambled around the room in a feeble attempt to hide myself. How could I justify being in his office and snooping around? I quickly dashed in the small area underneath his desk. Stupid try, but I hoped it would do. I heard the door click open as two pairs of feet walked in. I could see only their shoes. Wellins was obvious as he was wearing the bright white tennis shoes all healers wore. The other pair was a fancy Italian brand that I knew was too expensive for any old healer to be able to buy.
“I just don’t feel right about this.” Healer Wellins said, his voice shaking so slightly. He came towards his desk, leaning against it.
“You’re doing the right thing.” The other voice said. It was a man, someone that I knew I immediately wouldn’t like.
“How is this the right thing? Falsifying papers? That’s not right.” Wellins whispered. I nearly gasped, but held it in, listening closely.
“Gigi Jacobs shouldn’t be on that field tomorrow. She doesn’t deserve it. If she is, we are going to lose and I can’t let that happen.” The other man said, his tone threatening. I practically heard Wellins swallow. “We had a deal, Wellins. You lie about her being pregnant and I don’t tell your wife about your rendezvous with my sister. Do you really want your daughter to hate you for the rest of your life for cheating on her mother?”
“What do I do when Gigi comes in for a check up and she’s no longer pregnant?” Wellins asked. I had to hold my mouth from shouting at the pair. Gigi wasn’t pregnant. Wellins had cheated on his wife. So much was running through my head it was hard to keep it all straight.
“You tell her she lost it. That way we can all get what we want and you don’t lose your healing license.” I dared to peek out from underneath the small crack at the bottom of the desk. I barely saw what was in front of me, but the face didn’t lie.
Tyler Gates. Tyler Gates had blackmailed Healer Wellins into saying Gigi was pregnant when she wasn’t.
I ran my hand over the slick locker that I had become accustomed to over the past few years. The cold metal was refreshing on my hand after having done some flying before practice. I smiled at the “J. Potter” engraved into the gold plaque above. There was even a captain’s star right next to it. In all my years of dreaming about playing professional Quidditch, I never imagined that I would actually be here. Captain of the best team in the world and leading that team to the championship was something I had fantasized about since I was a child.
I looked at the lockers around me. M. Hankin. G. Jacobs. C. Piette. A. Freeman. B. Williams. S. Williams. My team.
Gigi hadn’t been at practice yesterday. I wondered if she’d be here today. After our talk, I hadn’t given myself the opportunity to think about her. I didn’t want to. That girl made me insane and I needed a clear head for the big game. Knowing Gigi, she’d come up with something dramatic right before we kicked off from the ground. She was known all too well for making me easily distracted during important events.
The locker room was stuffy and I felt as though I could barely breathe in it (though in all honesty, someone probably cleaned in twice a day). I sighed, deciding it was best to go out onto the pitch again and stare aimlessly at the empty seats until it was time for practice. Yes, I did have weird ways of passing time. Don’t judge me.
I pushed my hair out of my face as I let the cold air hit my sleeveless arms. Nothing will feel quite as good as frigid air hitting sweaty skin. Did I warn you of my weird past times? No? Well, I should probably do that again. I took a deep breath. I looked up at the clear sky. I let my eyes roam over the stands. It was still breathtaking to me how many people could fit in the stadium. My eyes drifted to the field and I caught sight of Coach Smithson and Gigi in a deep discussion. Gigi still looked rather pale and Smithson had his hand on Gigi’s shoulder. It seemed as though he was trying to console her.
I walked closer, but was aware that this wasn’t a conversation I was exactly invited to. I frowned at the recognition that they both looked rather troubled. Gigi had her back towards me and Smithson was nodding his head at something that she was saying. Sound travelled pretty well in the pitch, so I knew they were whispering to one another. As I got closer, I could hear the sigh that Smithson gave as he gave Gigi one final pat on the shoulder.
“Well, we will miss you Gigi. The team won’t be the same without you.” He said. Gigi nodded, her lips pursed slightly. I felt a panic rise in my chest. We couldn’t win the championship game without her.
“What do you mean without Gigi?” I immediately pipped up. Gigi quickly spun around, shock written on every corner of her face. Smithson obviously hadn’t seen me there either as I noticed his face turning slightly red in embarrassment. Neither answered my question. “Well?”
“Potter, I think Jacobs has something to tell you.” Coach said, nudging Gigi with his elbow slightly. Gigi stared at me like she was just caught cheating on her OWLs. It didn’t seem like anything was going to come from that loud mouth of hers.
“And that would be?” I tried. Gigi swallowed what seemed like a large lump in her throat. She opened her mouth, but nothing came out.
Well, this was a first.
Smithson nudged her again, but that barely moved her. What would have Gigi this nervous? She could be around thousands of screaming fans and playing for her life and she wouldn’t ever act this way. I crossed my arms, narrowing my eyes. What had her this freaked? Was it me? If she didn’t want me, she could just say it. I was a big boy (the under garments Freddie got me for last Christmas said so). I could suck it up for the game. I could put it behind me.
“She’s not playing with the Falcons for the championship, Potter. She’s going to take a year off.” Smithson answered in frustration, seeing as Gigi wasn’t standing up for herself. I could see the redness starting in on Gigi’s already red cheeks.
“Is this true?” I asked, looking at Gigi. This made no sense. Why would she not play? She nodded at me, no words coming out. I was about to reach forward and try my best to comfort her, but a lot of things happened at once.
Suddenly, a group of journalists and paparazzi apparated onto the opposite end of the pitch, taking off at a damn sprint towards us. I couldn’t quite understand what they were saying, but I was pretty sure there was every single newspaper and magazine personnel you can think of making a beeline for us. They were all trying to be louder than the others, but it all just sounded like a horrible train crash. We were all frozen in our spots, unable to move. What was the big deal that they suddenly needed to catch all of our attention like this?
That was when I heard it.
“Is it true?!”
“Are you pregnant??!!”
“Pregnant?” I found myself asking as I turned to Gigi. She was silent again, this time I saw her eyes watering as she looked at me.
“James…I…I.” She couldn’t find the words again as we became surrounded, quills in our faces and wizard phones, shouting questions about our apparent ‘love baby’. I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to say or what I was supposed to think.
I looked at Gigi, waiting for an explanation, but knowing I wasn’t going to get one. How did the press find out before me? How did Smithson find out before me? Why was I the last to know? I felt extremely betrayed and hurt. Did Gigi not want me in her life that much that she was willing to keep this child a secret from me? What was she going to do, just leave? When the going gets tough, Gigi always finds a way to get out of the problem.
And now it was my turn.
I pushed my way through the press and ran back towards the locker. The whole while I could hear Gigi yelling for me. What more could she say? She was having my child. A little James and Gigi. I couldn’t even begin to process it, let alone accept it. I slammed the locker doors shut behind me, going straight to the private apparation room for team members. I needed to leave and clear my head (or figure out what was in it to begin with). I needed to get away from Gigi.
“James!” I heard behind me as the doors slammed open. I clenched my fists as I stopped dead in my tracks.
“What.” I said through gritted teeth, not bothering to turn around. She didn’t deserve that much.
“Please….I was going to tell you.” She begged. I let out a harsh laugh. Now I wasn’t just hurt by her, I was pissed at her.
“When was that exactly?” I asked, turning around as I glared at her. “After the baby was born?”
“You have every right to be angry with me.” She said. I almost crumbled when I saw tears spring from her eyes. “I would be too.”
“Why wouldn’t you tell me?” I asked her. She sucked her bottom lip into her mouth as she tried to find the right words. “The whole world knew except for me, Gigi!”
“That was Sally… I fired her and she must have went and blabbed to the media.” Gigi explained. She looked down angrily at the ground, kicking at it, probably wishing it was Sally.
“So you told your agent before me. Bloody brilliant.” I grumbled. I wanted to reach out and punch the locker, but I knew better from the last time I let my fist get into a fight with these solid doors. I lost.
“I needed to let all the professional people in my life know about it! I needed to give Smithson enough time to prepare the replacement and Sally needed to know I wasn’t playing. I was going to tell you, I swear.” Gigi begged.
“I don’t want to hear any more of your damn excuses, Gigi. I really don’t.” I told her. I was so tired of chasing after this girl. It wasn’t fair to me. “I’m not doing this anymore, Gigi. You made your decision very clear and it is clearly not to be with me. I’ll support that baby in whatever way possible, but I guess a relationship between the two of us is bloody impossible. The pathetic part? I thought I loved you.”
Gigi let another tear slide down her delicate face. I wanted to reach out and wipe it away, but knew it wasn’t my place. I knew this was final. I loved Gigi. I loved her with all my heart and to watch her stomp on it time and time again is more than one man can take. I felt the lump in my throat growing and I tried with all my might to swallow it. I was going to be a father and I couldn’t even enjoy the feeling. I ran a frustrated hand through my hair.
“Tell me how you feel, Gigi. Tell me you feel the same way.” I found myself saying to her. Gigi looked up, shocked at me. She opened her mouth, but found herself closing it again. I wanted to hear that finality that she didn’t feel the same way. I wanted to hear her say it.
“James, don’t do this to me.” She whispered. I stepped forward, placing my hand on her cheek.
“I need to know, Gigi. For me.” I whispered back. She leaned into my hand, closing her eyes.
“I can’t.” She sobbed. I tore myself away.
“That’s all I needed.” I said, turning away and leaving.
I stared at the floor, letting my tears slide down my face. I hadn’t cried in so long, I damn near forgot the feeling. This damn baby was probably making me all emotional. I remembered Jenny when she was pregnant. She threw a sandwich at me because I ‘assumed’ she was six months along. I was right, but that meant I was calling her fat. Was I going to turn into that? Was I going to throw fits because people are going to recognize that I’m pregnant and I’m going to think I’m fat.
Merlin help me.
The child wasn’t the worst part. I was amazing with children. Hell, Jenny’s kid wanted me to adopt him on many occasions. The horrible truth was that my career was over. My hopes and dreams had been crushed by one little ‘oops’. That’s what this child was. My oops. Except this oops crushed so much more than my simple title of cool aunt. Now I was going to have to be Mom. I wasn’t going to be the rising Quidditch star. I wasn’t going to be the Falcon’s star chaser. I was just going to be Gigi Jacobs, the girl who almost was remembered.
I curled the pillow that was in my lap closer to me as I glanced up at the wiz telly that I had turned off. The black screen stared straight back at me, almost teasing me. It was the day of the championship. Right now, the news anchors were talking about how amazing the game would be and all about the stats from the past year. They would be talking about how James was going to crush Gates’s head in and how no one would be able to stop Potter. I could practically hear it. I could also hear them talking about how big of a letdown I am.
Thanks news people. I already knew that.
I looked at the clock on the opposite wall. It was 11:30. They kicked off the ground at noon. I sighed, knowing how bad I wanted to be at that game. This was my match. This was my team. And I was pathetic enough to not double check Potter’s protection charm. That was the first thing you learned when you were ‘of age’. You always made sure whoever you were shagging knew how to do a proper protection charm. Hell, you were even supposed to do one of your own to make sure.
“Are you ready, Gigi?” I heard the delicate voice of Gabby behind me. I looked back and saw she was holding two of my bags in her arms. I wiped away a tear that was sliding down my cheek and nodded at her, forcing a smile. She affectionately petted my head.
“Everything’s going to be okay. You’re coming home.” Jenny said from Gabby’s side. I wanted to believe them, I really did, but something felt wrong. I didn’t feel right about leaving.
But I had to. There wasn’t anything left for me here.
“Do you want to go say goodbye to your team before we go?” Gabby asked, helping me off the couch.
I thought about Matt next to my locker, smiling as we did our weird pre-game ritual. I thought of Chris mumbling to himself in the locker room, getting in “the zone” as he called it. I could see Barry and Scott messing around, hitting bats with each other. I could see Adam smelling his arm pits, because he wanted to make sure he would smell good when on the pitch. Then I could see James, studying us all. He watched us, beaming with pride, as he took everything in. He’d then look at me and our eyes would lock. He’d smile at me and wink his oh-so-charming wink and I’d feel my stomach flip.
Why did it take me this long to realize I love James Potter?
“No, I don’t want to distract them from the game. Let’s go.” I answered. It all felt so final. It all felt over.
We reached the door and just as Gabby opened it, Rose and my healer were standing there. We all stopped, unable to register what was going on. Rose looked angry, more than angry, she looked ready to rip someone’s head off. Who’s head might you ask? Healer Wellins’ head. Healer Wellins was red in the face, but looked more ashamed than anything. I furrowed my eyebrows, not quite sure what to do.
“Gigi, Healer Wellins has something he’d like to tell you.” Rose said, practically out of breath. Wellins yanked his arm out of Rose’s grip (which I had just noticed she had) and glared at her.
“What is that?” I asked tentatively. Wellins turned towards me and cast his eyes down in shame.
“I’m truly sorry, Gigi. I didn’t mean for it to happen this way, but I was blackmailed by Tyler Gates!” He tried to defend himself.
“Cut to the chase.” Jenny demanded. I wanted to give her a nasty look for being rude, but didn’t bother.
“What did Gates do?” I pried. I could feel my stomach churning. This wasn’t good.
“You’re not pregnant, Gigi. Gates made me falsify your test results.” Wellins explained. I wanted to faint. I wanted to scream. I wanted to yell with joy. I wanted to punch Wellins in the face. Most of all, I wanted to go play Quidditch.
“So she can play?” Gabby asked.
“Let’s get you to the stadium.” Rose said, smirking at me. I smirked back and ran out the door.
Author's Note: And you all thought she was pregnant. Pshawww. ;). I'm more creative than you all give me credit for! Come on, this isn't your classic story after all. I tried really hard not to respond to any reviews so that I didn't give anything away. I felt so bad when everyone was so upset thinking she was pregnant. Gaaaawwwwd! Anyways... love you guys! Sorry for freaking you out!! Bahahhaah. Almost at the end!! Sequel? No? yes?