Chapter 1 : I.
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They met the day her sister went to play for him. The same year he was named head coach for the Holyhead Harpies and turned fifty. Lucy had always been rather Quidditch mad so no one was surprised when she got an offer from her favorite team the autumn after she finished at Hogwarts. The family gathered at Holyhead arena to see Lucy officially given her number and introduced as a Harpy. Molly had chosen a quiet profession as a healer and didn’t care much for sport but went because she loved her sister and was happy for her. At the reception following the ceremony she took a glass of sparkling water and hid in the corner.
It was safe to say he didn’t know who she was. How could he? She didn’t look a thing like most of her family. They were all red hair and lanky limbs, even Victoire and Dominique hadn’t escaped the famed Weasley hair. Molly looked like her mother; her hair was blonde and she was slim and petite. The only Weasley trait she possessed was sparkling blue eyes. Everyone agreed she was the beauty of the family. She was also the quiet, shy one so no one was surprised to see her trying to blend in with the shadows. He approached her because he thought it odd such a beautiful woman was alone in a crowded room and because she was a beautiful woman alone.
“Not enjoying yourself?” He startled her a bit but she gave him a friendly, if tentative smile. She vaguely knew he was a member of staff for the Harpies; having not paid much attention during the ceremony she didn’t realize he was the head coach.
“Oh, I’m fine. Not much for parties, I’m afraid.”
He smiled in commiseration and leaned against the wall beside her. “Neither am I. I’m more cut out for the field.”
“Then you’re in the right profession.”
“Yes, I guess I am. How about you?”
“Oh I don’t really like Quidditch much.” She said with a blush. His eyebrows raised and she expected him to try and convert her to the love of sport, just like most of her cousins and friends had over the years.
“Odd place for someone who doesn’t like Quidditch to be,” he said simply.
“My family,” she said by way of explanation.
“I’m Oliver,” he supplied suddenly, sticking out his hand, which she shook.
“Molly. You want to get out of here?”
“Oh yes, please.” He laughed and she blushed again and they dropped their glasses on the nearest table before sneaking out a side door he knew about. Molly glanced over her shoulder once but no one seemed to notice that they had left.
Oliver was a handsome man with brown hair cut short, grey at his temples. Molly thought he was rather dashing – she’d always had a weakness for an older man. His finely tailored muggle suit was easy on the eyes as well.
He led her down the corridor to the room they had left barely an hour ago. The chairs were askew and it seemed larger now that it was empty. Molly walked up to the window that looked onto the pitch.
“It’s enchanted.” He told her. “You can’t really see the pitch there, only the underside of the stands, but it’s a real-time representation. More impressive than a blank wall.”
“I’ve never been here before.” She admitted.
“What do you, Molly?”
“I’m a healer.” She turned to face him and found him close behind her. “I work at St. Mungo’s in the spell damage ward.”
“And do you like it?”
“Yes. Most of the time. I wouldn’t mind a position that was a bit steadier though, with regular patients and not just emergencies. The hours are a bit much sometimes.”
He offered his arm and she took it, letting him guide her down another corridor. She looked at the portraits on the walls, of teams from past years. Seeing Weasley, Ginny listed on more than one made her smile. She stopped for a moment to look up at the younger likeness of her aunt. The last one said Potter, Ginny and that made her smile as well. She knew Ginny had retired soon after because she found out she was pregnant with James, who was now a Quidditch player as well.
She smiled at the last picture; the Harpies were celebrating their victory at the league championship for the last season. The women were cheering and passing the trophy about kissing it with grins on their faces. Then came portraits of the staff. Obviously new, Oliver’s was on the end. “Head Coach 2025-“
“This is your first year here?”
“Yes, they only hired me five weeks ago.”
“And before this?”
“I worked for the Tornadoes.” She smiled and nodded and he chuckled, aware she had no idea who the Tornadoes were.”
“Come on,” he said. “I’ll show you something you’ll like.”
They took a side door marked ‘PRIVATE’ and went down a short corridor. He opened another door and they came to a set of stairs. Up and up they climbed while Oliver told her about his career. He had played at Hogwarts, he said, and then joined Puddlemere. After a couple of seasons on the reserve team he moved up to a starting position and then was traded to the Tornadoes some years later. He finished his career there and when he was ready to retire they offered him a position as a coach. After ten years coaching there he had taken this new position.
“Here we are.” He pushed open a door and let Molly precede him through. She gasped.
“Oh, it’s beautiful.” Molly found herself at the top of the stadium looking east. In the distance she could see the harbor and a ferry moving slowly across it. Turning around she looked out over the sea and realized the balcony she was on continued around the side of the structure.
“Does this run all the way around?”
“Nearly,” he said. “There’s no balcony above the main entrance but other than that it’s continuous. Great view huh?”
“It’s gorgeous! My cousin would love to draw this. She’s a very talented artist.”
“Best view in the league.” He said proudly. Molly thought he was probably right. She smiled up at him, the wind blowing her hair in her face. He reached out and pushed in back, stepping up close to her. Her breath caught and she let her hands drop from their perch on the railing to face him.
“What brought you here today? You said your family, so you must be related to one of my new players.”
“Yes. My little sister, Lucy. Weasley? Maybe you remember her.” He started to laugh and turned away from her shoving his hands in his pockets and throwing back his head. Molly tipped her head to one side, not sure what the joke was.
“Weasley? You’re Percy Weasley’s daughter?”
“Yes. Do you know him?”
“You don’t look like a Weasley.”
“I look like my mother.”
“Yes. Just like she did twenty-five years ago, when she married your father.”
He rubbed the back of his neck then and gave a rueful laugh. Molly looked at him curiously and thought he was perhaps older than she had first imagined.
“So you do know my parents.”
“I was in your father’s year at Hogwarts. We shared a dormitory for seven years.” He looked at her sideways with a half smile. “And now I’m thinking about kissing his daughter.”
Molly blushed but she smiled and looked him in the eye as she did. She was feeling a bit brazen and thought it was probably Dominique’s influence.
“I won’t tell if you won’t.”
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