Chapter 13 : PART 2: How to Draw Attention to Yourself
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A/N: I am so sorry this took so long! I had this written two months ago, but my computer had issues and I lost all my files, so I had to rewrite this! Please enjoy, and please review! I had some really good ones the last couple of chapters, so thank you very much! Thanks for sticking with the story! Hope you like the new feel to it, as it's a new part of the groups' lives.
The sign read, “Watch head here”.
I walked into the busy terminal and was engulfed by a massive crowd of American Tourists. With their trendy graphic T-shirts, cameras, and huge suitcases, it’s a miracle I didn’t fall and trip, splitting my head open. But I guess the dirt and combat boots kept them from getting too friendly. I didn’t exactly look scary, just tough with my chin-length haircut held back with a bandana, my tan skin, and my dirt-encrusted nails, I seemed pretty rough. My 96-ounce boots were pretty clunky too, so I probably stepped on a couple of toes.
Why was I traipsing through a crowd of obnoxious tourists? I had just arrived back home in London after a three year gig as a dragon tamer in Romania, with explorers and wizards like Charlie Weasley, who was one of my directors. The internship was a flurry of freelance reports to send to various literary companies (as no one had been keen to write and I had the most distinct ‘voice’ on paper-what a load of shit), overseeing dragon transactions, and training young dragon pups. It had been four years since I had left Hogwarts, and I had struggled to keep caught up. I got most of my information from Brad, who I still talked to over floo once a month. Rose and Scorpius had been dating somewhat steadily for the past four years, with some various disputes. Scorpius had entered into a huge multi-million galleon corporation where he was now somehow pretty high up, and Rose was just getting out of healing school, and had secured a coveted apprenticeship at Mungo’s. They lived in London, several blocks away from the Eye, in a nice flat together. Tanner had secured a spot on the Tornadoes after graduation and was being moved up to first string in a month or so, according to Quidditch Weekly, something I still read under the sheets in the middle of the night as a guilty pleasure (I know, my bed life is so juicy). Frank had married a nice girl six months ago and they now lived in a nice townhome ten miles outside London. John was dating some chick named Grace, and was working in something at the ministry. As you can tell, some of us had remained in more correspondence than the others.
I had seen Al twice, once when he saw me off to Romania, and the other three months after that when I went back to London on a project. Both of those times had been very congenial and friendly (as in, nothing happened except platonic conversations and a hug). I had mailed him somewhat frequently since, owling him whenever I could borrow someone’s owl. Which wasn’t very frequent. But I know that he became a writer for various magazines under the printing company Apparitions. He had been doing various freelance work around the wizarding world, highlighting the outdoors, Quidditch, and adventures. One of his associates had done a piece on our Dragon Camp a couple of months ago. We were sent a copy of the article from the magazine, Witch Hunt (a magazine targeting witches and wizards of the more adventurous spirit), which featured a small spiel on me and the two other interns, Rupert and Raul, burly bearded men my age. There was an okay picture of me feeding a baby dragon cinnamon sticks.
My shoulders were now tired from carrying my backpack through five different corridors of airport terminal when I finally found the baggage claim.
Only to be stopped by some chick hogging the line.
With perfectly manicured features and smooth, totally fake blonde hair and a pink sweater, this lady was holding up the entire queue to receive luggage by arguing with the security man about her dog, a nearly hairless poodle that looked like it was going to puke. It was making gagging sounds anyways.
I grimaced, and tried to get past her and grab the orange duffel that was now riding the carriage out of the little flappy door.
“Excuse me miss, I need to get through.” I said as I accidently nudged into her.
“Watch where you shove all that dirt, sweetie.” She said very condescendingly.
I glared at her then turned my back. I grabbed my duffel and made my way towards the exit, giving her the bird behind my back. What a bitch. It’s women like these who undermine the whole feminist movement. Not that I’m a huge feminist or anything, but I am an advocate for women’s rights and equal pay at the ministry and everything. I have burned my bra before though. But that was a dare back in training for my internship.
I know she saw my gesture when she gasped and scoffed at me before I made it to the door. It was a petite scoff of course. A little “Eughn”, emphasizing the E.
I exited the airport through the automatic doors and was quickly mauled by a huge mass of muscles.
I screamed, and then started laughing uncontrollably when I realized who it was.
“I missed you so much Taylor, don’t you ever stop corresponding with me again!” He shouted, attracting even more attention.
There was a cough to the left.
“BRAD!” I jumped on him, hugging him tight, my duffle on the ground. Now everyone in a quarter kilometer was staring.
“Taylor, don’t you ever leave us again.” My brother said, smiling.
“I missed you guys so much, I don’t think I will be.”
I hopped down, smiling broadly, positutely giddy.
Tanner smirked. “Taylor, you’re looking hot.”
Brad slapped him upside the head.
“I’m just saying, as your bestest friend, totally platonically, that you are looking good.” He clarifies.
I roll my eyes. “Thanks Tanner.” I can’t help but notice that he looks good. Training for Quidditch has done him well. Tan, with biceps resembling pythons, he looks like he belongs on the cover of Witch Weekly’s “Sexiest Wizard Alive” Issue. I think Al mentioned something
“Don’t mention it. But you do look positively bombastic!” He says with a dopey grin. One of the security men glances over, scowling.
“Bombastic?” My brother inquires quite loudly.
“Yeah, like an explosion. You know, a bombshell.” Tanner explains. I furiously shake my head as several security begin conversing in the background, looking over at us.
“You guys, stop saying the word ‘bomb’.” I hiss under my breath.
“What’s wrong with ‘bomb’?” Tanner inquires loudly. “You know that I can’t hold back my bomb.” He winks.
I place my face in my hands as the security men come over.
“Excuse us sir, but you’re going to have to come with us.” The biggest of the four says.
Tanner looks confused. “Wait, what?”
“Sir, just come with us please.” He states again.
“Er, allright.” Tanner obliges. The man takes him by the shoulder and starts walking towards a service entrance.
“You two as well.” Another one says, pointing to me and Brad. He leads us towards the same door.
The three of us are led into a blank room with a metal table and several very sterile chairs. This does not look good.
“Take a seat, gentlemen. And lady.” One says.
“Look sir, I’m really sorry, but my friend here doesn’t have a bomb. He just seems to be missing his common sense. I promise you, this is just a misunderstanding!” I say earnestly.
Tanner gives me a look.
“Right. So you won’t mind if we ask some questions then?” The guy asks.
I sigh. This is going to be a long afternoon. “Don’t we at least get to call someone?”
“In a little bit. Now, you, in the blue shirt. What’s your name and reason for being at the airport today?” He says, looking towards Tanner.
“I’m here to pick up my friend Taylor. That’s her right there.” He points to me.
“Did you enter the airport at any point today?”
“No sir. We were just waiting outside.”
“For how long?”
“About fifteen minutes, I reckon.” Tanner shrugs. “You were there, you watched us.”
The guy scoffs. I stare at his face as he turns to me. He looks to be about twenty-something. Young, and quite fit to be honest.
“And why were you traveling to England?”
“I live here.” I snap. Brad coughs. “I mean, I was returning home from Romania. I had a job there.”
“Had a job? Did you get fired?” He asks.
“No, my contract timed out and I decided against renewing it.”
“I missed my friends and family.”
“How old are you?”
“What was your previous occupation?”
“Freelance bird trainer.” I reply without even a blink of hesitation.
“Where in England do you live?”
“Are you married?”
“No. Why the hell are you asking anyways?”
“Requirement of the job is all.”
I roll my eyes. “Look mate. We don’t have any intention of blowing up this airport.”
“Well, we’re going to have to keep you here until someone can pick you up and verify your identities.” He states, leaning back.
“Alright, let us at the phone then.” I say.
“I’ll bring one to you.” He gets up and leaves the room.
The instant he leaves I smack Tanner upside the head. “You’re an idiot.”
“But you love it!” He smiles dopily.
“Not right now I don’t.” I say grumpily, crossing my arms over my chest. “I want to get out of here. This is ridiculous.”
“I know.” Brad says. “Who are we going to call? Dad’s busy.”
“We can call my parents.” Tanner offers. “They’re not doing anything. Plus, we’re on good terms right now.”
“Allright. But they better show.”
“They will.” He promises. The guy comes back with a phone.
Tanner takes it and rings his parent’s house. He converses for a minute with whoever it is on the other line, then hangs up. “They’ll be here in ten minutes.”
I put my head in my hands, relieved.
Fifteen minutes later, Oliver Wood shows up and confirms that we are in fact, who we say we are and that if we were to blow up the airport, we would have done it already.
I know he’s a Quidditch Legend and everything, but he probably could have phrased that better.
They let us go, reluctantly I might add, back into the main terminal. We are asked to only use the airport again if we promised to not cause disturbances or bring explosive substances near the vicinity.
We agreed, and were shuffled out by Mr. Wood. Who promptly burst out laughing the second the door shut behind us.
“I can’t believe what idiots you are.” He said in between hearty chuckles.
“Well, I didn’t even say anything!” I protested. “I just got dragged along, as always.”
“Aw Taylor, you don’t think that for real, do you?” Tanner asked.
“Either way, you lot were absolutely stupid today.” He smiles. “Your mother is going to blow a gasket when she finds out.” He said to Tanner. Tanner’s face turned white in fear.
“You’re going to tell her?” He asked, scared.
“Oh, it’d be a pity if I didn’t.”
Those two are so cute together. Me and Brad exchange glances and I roll my eyes. He does the same.
We’re walking through the terminal when I spot him. His hair is a little bit shorter, but still slightly tousled and tired looking. As he turns his head slightly, I can tell that he’s got a bit of stubble and his face is more mature than when I last saw him. His eyes are the same, though. Sparkling green, open expression. He’s wearing a casual comfy looking blue shirt and cargo shorts with trainers. He’s got a backpack, and some papers in his hand, a passport and some sort of notebook. I can’t believe its him. I’m so shocked to see him after so long that when he turns all the way and spots me, making eye contact for the first time in three years, my head rams straight into a sign with a resounding WHACK.
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