Not Your Average Quidditch Fan

"Can you believe it? This is it. We're actually going to the Quidditch World Cup," Lily said, as she and Arabella put the finishing touches on their makeup.

"No, Lils, I really can't," Arabella replied sarcastically.

"I'm annoying you by saying that aren't I?"

"Ya think?"

"All right, all right, Bella. I'll stop. Now help me here. I can't decide what to do with my hair."

Arabella bustled over Lily and studied her closely for a minute. "Leave it down," she finally decided, "It looks gorgeous just flowing down your back. You really do have awesome hair."

"Thanks," Lily replied. She turned to the mirror and inspected herself. Large, emerald green eyes in a pale, pointed face stared back at her. Her straight red hair framed her face and reached down to her mid back. Her lilac tank top brought out the golden highlights in her hair and fit her figure perfectly. White capri pants and lilac flipflops completed her outfit. She wore very little makeup: only a touch of green eyeshadow, mascara, and some lipgloss. Satisfied, she grabbed her purse from the bed and said, "Let's go. We don't want to be late."

"Hold on, I haven't finished my makeup yet," Arabella answered. She looked stunning in a blue tank that matched her eyes and a pair of denim shorts. She had pulled her short, dark brown hair back into a ponytail, with a few strands framing her face. The pink eyeshadow and lipstick she wore only added to her natural beauty.

"You look great," Lily told her.

"Thanks. So do you. Now let's roll!" Arabella replied and followed Lily out the door.

One hour later, both girls were sitting in their seats, waiting for the game to begin. Each held a pair of Omnioculars in her hand. Arabella was busy focusing on random people in the crowd, trying to find someone doing something embarrassing. Lily, in the meantime, was discovering some of the features of the Omnioculars. "Bella, look at this!" she said, "If you turn this knob, you get a complete listing of all the different plays. And this one gives you every type of foul. And here's a slow motion knob, and an instant reply, and-"

"Ok, ok, Lils," Arabella broke in, laughing, "Hey look. I can make this old lady's wig fall off over and over again." Lily leaned over to watch and they both started laughing hysterically.

Just then, a voice announced, "Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the 12^th Quidditch World Cup!" Lily and Arabella clapped along with the others. Then the announcer continued, "Today's game is... England vs. Belgium. And now it's time to introduce our players. The starting lineup for England: Jones, Sims, Potter, Mullins, Patterson, Johnston and...... Bently. And playing for Belgium: Heineman, Jules, Karns, Lawson, Odem, Skotak and...... Lichtstein. And our referee, Mr. Joseph Allman."

Lily focused her Omnioculars on James Potter as he flew around the stadium. She saw a shock of unruly black hair. When he turned his face briefly in her direction, she caught a glimpse of warm, chocolate brown eyes, framed by silver glasses. I wonder how many women are after him? she thought to herself. And how big a head it's given him. I wonder if his looks have anything to do with his success... Before she could ponder further, Mr. Allman had blown his whistle and the game had begun.

For the next three hours, Lily and Arabella witnessed, in awe, the best Quidditch game of their lives. The English team was clearly better, but Belgium made a close second. And Lily could not help noticing that James Potter was every bit as talented a Chaser as the press made him out to be. I could learn a thing or two from him, she told herself, and made a mental note to ask him about some of his moves over dinner.

Finally, Charles Bently caught the Snitch and the game ended. England had won 220 to 190. As the English team flew a victory lap around the stadium, the crowd erupted into cheers and clapping. As James' name was announced, the crowd cheered even louder. After England received their trophy, Arabella grabbed Lily's hand and pulled her down to the field. "Hurry up, Lils, we've got a date!"

"I know, I know. Geez you don't have to drag me," Lily protested.

Once they reached the field, Lily found that she was suddenly shy. Chill out, Lils, it's just dinner. With an extremely hot and famous guy. Stop it! Be sensible. As if you'd ever have a chance with him anyway.

Arabella, however, did not seem to have a problem talking to hot and famous Quidditch players. She walked right up to James, stuck out her hand, and said, "Hello, I'm Arabella Figg, and this is my friend Lily Evans. We're the contest winners."

James took her hand rather reluctantly and forced a smile. "Hi there, Arabella. I'm James Potter. But, I'm sure you've already figured that out."

He turned to Lily. "So you're Lily Evans," he said, as he shook her hand.

"Why, yes," she said, taken back by his greeting, "And I'm very pleased to meet you."

He seemed to flinch at her words, and she secretly wondered what she had done wrong. She had no time to ask about, for at that moment, the limo arrived, and they were all whisked off to the restaurant.

Seated in the restaurant, Lily felt even more nervous. She was not used to formal situations, especially not with any type of celebrity. And there was something about James Potter that her even more uncomfortable. It was as though he loathed being here, although she couldn't imagine why. Who wouldn't want to be adored by fans around the world?

But that was exactly what James Potter's problem was. He had been extremely annoyed when the contest was announced. And even more so when he found out who the contest winners were. Oh great, he thought, Now I get to spend an entire evening with two mindless, love struck, teenage girls, being incessantly pestered with stupid questions. 'How DO you get your hair like that, James darling?' 'So, Jamsie, are you seeing anyone?' 'Do you prefer blondes or brunettes?' And while he was on the subject of hair, he realized that Lily Evan's red waves were even more attractive than the usual bleached blondes or occasional brunette he had dated. How did you get on the subject of Lily Evans' hair, James? Be sensible here.

The only person who actually seemed to be enjoying herself was Arabella. While Lily pushed her food around her plate and James was lost in thought, she was busy trying to catch the waiter's eye every time he passed their table. Tiring of this, she turned to Lily, "Lils, what's wrong with you?" she demanded, "You've hardly said a word all evening."

Lily immediately laid her fork down, looking guilty. Remember your manners, Lily. "Oh, sorry. I was just... thinking." Turning to look at James, she asked, "That was an amazing Porskoff Ploy you used to score the final goal. How exactly did you do it?"

Startled out of his reverie, James dropped his fork. It hit the floor with a clatter and he bent to pick it up. Some host you've been, James. Snap out of it. When he sat up again, he answered her question politely. "Oh, it's nothing."

"Really?" she countered, "I'm not too shabby of a Chaser myself, but I've never been able to pull of a Porskoff Ploy like you did."

He stared at her a moment, astonished, "You play Quidditch?"

"Yes, I was a Chaser on my school team for four years. I've considered trying out for one of the English teams."

"Wow. That's great. You really should go out for a team. It's a blast."

"I would imagine so," Lily replied, now feeling more at ease. "The placed you'd go, the people you'd see."

"The guys you'd meet," Arabella added.

"Oh come on, Arabella," Lily and James said at the same time.

Lily giggled, "Jinx! You owe me a coke."

"Not a problem," James replied. He raised his hand for the waiter and asked, "Could you bring this lady a coca cola?"

"Certainly, sir," the man replied. He returned a few minutes later, a glass of coke in hand.

Lily took a long sip and leaned back in her chair. "Ah. That sure hits the spot." They all laughed.

"You know, Lily," James said, "Why don't you come by my place tomorrow afternoon? I could show you how to do that Porskoff Ploy and a few of my other moves."

"Sounds great! Is three o'clock alright?"

"Excellent."