Could Haves and Would Haves

They seemed to be approaching Godric's Hollow and Jack looked down, trying to get a glimpse of one of the most iconic wizarding villages before they had actually landed. She couldn't see much, but she could see that they had not found Godric's Hollow, and that they were approaching... was it? No... Shit. A muggle.

Jack opened her mouth to warn James, but a moment later, they had landed. Jack was jostled madly as the tires touched down. She gripped the motorcbike for balance and James quickly reacted, obliviating the stray muggle. James spoke to her and, with a smirk, she responded, "Besmirching your plans for an evening unmarred by such an incident. That's just my guess though."

James directed the man away and sped off again. Jack was able to hold on with her legs, holding onto the seat and her helmet's chinstrap. "Are we there yet!?" she faked whined over the motorbike's roar.

((Wasn't sure if I'm allowed to use Kreacher, but I say better to ask forgiveness than ask permission. Seems reasonable that he would have stayed with the Potter family.))

"Had to land outside of town," James explained as they drove quite a bit slower (as in about 75 mph/120 kph) down the road into town, "Godric's Hollow mainly houses wizards, but there are a few muggles who live in town. I've gotten into trouble before with the ministry. One of these days they'll just lock me up in Azkaban, and rid themselves of the problem!"

James laughed as they entered town, and he slowed down to a speed appropriate for in-town. They passed the cemetery where his parents and grandparents had been buried, and past the church beside it. If Jack looked quick, she'd catch a glimpse of the demolished Potter house as well. Arriving at the court square, James drove all the way around the square purposely, so that Jack could see the obelisk that melted away for wizard eyes to reveal the statue of his grandparents and father; then turned down another road away from the square and to a fairly large house with a large gated yard.

"This house belonged to my parents," James explained as he idled the motorbike into the driveway, "When mom died I was the eldest and only one of age, so I inherited it. Lily still stays here on school holidays, and Albus practically lives here, though he has a flat of his own in London."

James shut off the bike and lifted Doom from his basket, the helmet and goggles placed in the saddlebag. He headed up a stone path leading from the driveway to the home, and climbed a set of 7 steps leading up to the door, muttering incantations as he went to allow them entry through the protective charms he had up around his home.

"Well, welcome to my humble abode!" James proclaimed as he swung open the door.

Inside, you could tell that the home housed a well-to-do family. While not as extravagant as a manor, it was high class, sporting a full bar in the living room. The floor was hardwood, and polished to a high shine, as was the chandelier and the numerous brass candle holders. No one would believe that a bachelor lived here.

"Courtesy of Kreacher," James explained, "the family's house-elf. He'll be resting right now. He's quite old, and while he refuses outright to be derelict in his duties, I've at least been firm in ensuring that he is in bed by 9 every night. Wouldn't have him working at all if I could manage it, but the suggestion alone would probably kill him."

"Well, then! How about some music?" James exclaimed abruptly, pointing his wand at a radio in the corner.

The radio instantly came to life, blasting a song over the sound system.

"What the devil?!" James exclaimed in an unconvincing tone of surprise, as he quickly waved his wand to a different selection, "Ah, that's better. Doom! How many times has daddy told you not to play with the radio?"

Doom fixed James with an insolent stare, which clearly said that he would do no such thing.

"Drinks!" James cried, hurrying over to the bar to cover up the awkward moment, "What would you like? I have everything. Muggle and wizard."

((Hope you like Poets of the Fall, and feel free to have Jack pick a song of her own. ))

Jack grinned and responded to James, saying, "I'll make sure they give you a cell with a view." She was a tad distracted, however, for she wanted to take in the sights. Jack had an adventurous spirit, but she was a muggleborn. She had always felt as though Godric's Hollow simply did not belong to her, just as wizards did not belong in her childhood neighborhood. The invitation to visit was the only way she would have ever ventured into the village, and she intended on taking it all in.

Perhaps because of speed limits, or because Jack was seeing the village for the first time, but James slowed the bike's speed. Jack guessed it had something to do with the latter, for neither of the figures on the bike had ever had much a fancy for obeying any sort of authority.

The houses were like cottages in charm, and mini-manors in splendor. Though not huge, they were grand and neat, well kept and charming. Jack's eyes traveled over a cemetery, where she knew some of the most famous wizarding remains lay. There was an old church and, as James circled the square, some sort of memorial. Exactly the kind appeared before her eyes as they passed it and she sucked in a breath in wonder.

The thought struck her that it must not have been exactly pleasant for James to live here. Seeing as most of it was a constant reminder of his parents. But perhaps it was a consolation. Perhaps it was just her; Jack had not come to the point in her life where she would like to see a memorial of her dead loved ones daily.

They stopped in his driveway and Jack began working at the chinstrap as he spoke. "Sounds almost as busy as the zoo I run," Jack said, referring to her own home. With Nemo always moving around, the two foul-mouthed Jarveys, the shape-shifting Gytrash, the animals Jack brought home from work, and the occasional werewolf in need of a place to crash, Jack's home felt less like her home and more like a shelter.

She pulled the helmet off and slipped off the bike, placing the helmet and goggles in the basket. She followed James up the path to the house and as they passed by a window, she noticed her hair was sticking up in all different directions. She stopped and stared at the reflection before nodding. "Rock and roll."

She entered the Potter's home and whistled. "Very nice!" She was glad it was his home they had visited, and not her own. They would have had to make their way mast discarded vodka bottles, bags of popcorn, and a sock-eating Ottoman that thought it was a cocker spaniel to get past the landing.

James turned on the radio and Jack grinned devilishly at the song selection. "I see you have it on your presets," she teased, taking a turn about the room. He changed it and Jack nodded, saying, "Suuuuure, blame your cat." Jack looked at Doom the Kitty and winked, mouthing, "I believe you."

James asked what sort of drink she'd like and she immediately responded, "Firewhiskey." She tried not to drink anything too hard when she was out, as she usually caved in to Nemo's requests to join him for shots. If she drank on her own terms, she'd be drunk all of the time. But the meeting had worn on her and she needed a little something.

Doom began to purr, rubbing his body against Jack's leg.

"Rotten little traitor," James admonished as he procured a bottle of Ogden's Old Firewhiskey from behind the bar, pouring it into a little shot-glass with the Gryffindor crest stamped on it.

James offered Jack the shot of firewhiskey, setting the bottle down on a coffee table in front of the couch, and poured himself a shot of his own. As if on an after-thought, James waved his wand and a bottle of Bungbarrel Spiced Mead and two small mugs hovered from behind the bar and placed themselves on the table.

"Just in case we want something to chase down the firewhiskey," James explained.

He raised his shot-glass in the air with a "cheers."

The cat rubbed against Jack's leg and Jack grinned, reaching down the scratch the little creature's chin. Jack dealt with animals so much easier than with humans. Animals responded off of instinct, and once you understood animal instincts, you understood how to interact with animals. Humans, however, spent their whole lives shirking their instincts. Jack could never figure out the best way to go about handling them. It was best to avoid them altogether and stick to dragons.

James handed her a shot and set the bottle down- good, it was within reach. She had spent the last few months learning to keep up with a chronic alcoholic. One short had ceased to do the good it could do before. Her poor liver.

He summoned some mead and she "mmm-ed" with anticipation. Some mead actually sounded good at the moment. He raised his glass and Jack raised hers, clinking them with a "Cheers!" in return. And with that she downed the entire shot. She sat down on the couch and set about refilling her shot glass. "So, what have you been up to? Besides running down muggles and living in a barbie world?" She smirked.

James downed his shot as well, quirking an eyebrow at Jack's jibe.

"You know, you can brush my hair and undress me anywhere," James teased with a side-ways glance at Jack, fully aware of the danger he was putting himself in.

James leaned in, putting his lips up to her ear and whispered, "It unsnaps in the front."

He jerked back quickly, laughing, anticipating having to dodge a blow. ((Feel free to god-mod a bit here if she wants to take a swing. She can hit James, or miss James, or chase him, whatever. I just didn't want to make my post so short.))

After calming down a bit from his little joke, James thought about her question and began to laugh again.

"Actually," he replied, "I have a funny story for you. I was hanging out at Grimmauld Place a couple weeks ago. Just didn't feel like going home, you know, and one of my distant cousins comes in. Goes by the name of Santana Lopez. Anyways, we shoot the breeze for awhile, and she showed an interest in coming to watch me play some Quidditch. Well, trying to be the gentleman, I told her that perhaps I could get some tickets for her. Well, the gal says that once I win the cup and become even more famous than my father, she'll introduce me to everyone as her husband!"

James rocked back, shaking with laughter from the memory, "Can you imagine? Me? Married?!"

James spoke and she glared at her, her playfulness now mingling with a bit of a dangerous warning. He drew nearer and her eyebrow raised, as though asking if he were ready to face the consequences of whatever stunt he tried to pull off. She knew James had always been on the daredevil side of life, but even reckless daredevils drew the line somewhere, and it was usually about where his face was.

He spoke and Jack scoffed, swinging out an arm. Poor James was a Seeker against a Beater, though. It was in her instinct to cause bodily harm, and her forearm landed heavily against his shoulder. "You, my friend, have forgotten exactly how mortal you really are," she responded, able to grin now. It took a lot to really offend Jack. It had to be a direct insult or insinuation. She enjoyed a joke- but she equally enjoyed having a reason to hit people.

James spoke of a story and Jack listened. Jack was always a good audience, cringing and laughing at the right spots. However, she surprised him by saying, "Yeah, I can see you getting married. You'll dazzle some frail, sensitive woman with your bad boy razzle dazzle. You heroic guys always need a damsel in distress." She smirked, saying, "Well, you need a damsel in distress who can cook a sandwich."

Before he was too offended by the idea of finding a life partner, she said, "But I can see a few things wrong with that story. A) She is your cousin, offering to be her wife. I think you need to point out the finer points of the law to her. B) She's exploiting fame and therefore, no offense to your family, a money grubber. And C) No way you'll win the Cup whilst lacking the amazing Beating talent that is Jack Dyllan." She clasped her hands together and shook them above her head, imagining the congratulations she would receive once she won this imaginary Cup.

James rubbed his shoulder, still chuckling a bit. He enjoyed it most when he could get under someone's skin, and he always seemed to have a knack for pushing the right buttons, stopping short of pushing them too far.

"You forget the Wizarding world," James replied, "Cousins marry cousins all the time in order to keep it within a wizarding family. Especially if that wizarding family happens to be pureblood. My mom and dad were both on the same family tree when they got married. Sometimes it's inevitable, with the view that many wizards hold on marriage to muggles. We'll have to change our ways, or someday soon we'll all die out."

James poured himself a glass of the spiced mead, and took a sip, allowing the statement to sink in. He hadn't meant for talk to turn serious, but it was a valid worry with him. He feared for the future of wizards who had this pure-blood mania. He knew very well that Jack was not one of them, however, and it was pointless to think on this now.

"Whatever did happen to you and Quidditch?" James inquired, deftly changing the subject, "I had heard a rumor that you were scouted by the same team I happen to play for. You were a brilliant beater. My mother had even compared you to her brothers Fred and George, and she played for the Holyhead Harpies, so she was hard to impress."

James suddenly spoke on the wizarding order of things. Jack knew of the pureblood quirk of needing to remain pureblood, or at least close. As a muggleborn, it had simply never made much sense. She could see in a practical sense why it was better to marry amongst purebloods- less persecution, simpler home life, and it fought off bullies for the children. But Jack was raised a muggle, where marrying a cousin gained you the things purebloods hoped to avoid.

After his speech, Jack allowed for a moment of silence to hang in the air, for respect of the serious topics. Finally she said, "Well, I have too much muggle tradition in me to be happy with it." She grinned, bringing humor back to the conversation. "You can do what you want with your life, but do me a favor- don't marry that particular money-grubbing cousin."

The topic of Quidditch was settled on and Jack's mood deflated, for the answer to that question was not one she wanted to give. She could not think of anyone who she had actually come out and told the reasons to, and she knew it was much to painful and personal to completely reveal. But what would James believe? He knew her zeal for Quidditch and he knew she wouldn't have abandoned it for anything.

The comparison between herself and the Weasley twins suddenly spiked an interest in her. "She said that?" The twins were heroes of hers, seeing as she owned their shop and had possessed the map they had, according to the stories, salvaged from their caretaker. The compliment was more than Jack could have hoped for and she said, "That's... Great of her. That means a lot."

She paused. With such a comparison, some truth was necessary. She started with, "I don't know if you remember, but during my last year of Hogwarts, there was a battle on the grounds. I was the one who called in the Order, to combat the Dark Follower's, and the Death Eaters came in after. A lot of people died, and I had been the one that led the charge." It was my fault, her subconscious added. She refused to add it, for she knew he would argue it. Jack didn't want to be talked out of it. She wanted to have this.

"I told myself I had started the battle that started the war, and until I saw it to the end, I had a duty to the public." She sighed. "You're right though. Falmouth Falcons recruited me but I had to respectfully decline. I have an open audition to try out, I hear one of your Beaters is terribly inconsistent with his practice schedule. But I got a job at the Ministry, then I was promoted, and life got hecktic." She shrugged, hoping to downplay the loss of her passion as best as she could. "Even if the fighting between us and the Death Eaters ended tomorrow, I don't think I could leave the Ministry."

James watched Jack as she explained her fall-out from Quidditch, with something akin to sympathy in his eyes. He had a good idea that she had feelings of guilt, however he had similar things happen in his life, and knew that she would take any admonishments that it was not her fault the same way he did. He still felt a very keen guilt for what happened with Kanade, and no matter what anyone said to him, he knew that he was burdened with the guilt of that incident.

"I had already graduated by the time that battle took place," James replied solemnly, his fingers interlaced under his chin, "but I was part of that battle. It was a tragic battle, but it was a necessary battle. The saddest thing about war is the loved ones we lose, but we have to remember that they died fighting for a cause that they were willing to die for. Had they not been willing to die, they would not have been there. I was there. I was willing to die for the reasons which brought me there."

James focused on Jack with a steady gaze, wanting her to see that at least in his eyes, she was blameless.

"Regardless of any responsibility you feel, you should still enjoy your life; and not regret your decisions. You try to act like it's no big thing, but I'll bet my family's fortune that you miss flying the Quidditch Pitch, and it makes you miserable. Just remember that every now and again, you need to think about what you want, and blast anyone who you think needs you. Let the world take care of itself every now and then"

James smiled, but it was not a smile of happiness, and he did not meet Jack's eyes. Instead, he took another big gulp of firewhiskey, coughing as it burned his throat.

"but I'm sure that I am not going to be the one to sway you from your ways," James continued after recovering his composure, "Look, please just come to my practices every now and then. I'm sure no one would mind if you filled in whenever that inconsistent beater doesn't show up, and even if he does show; I'm sure some of the guys and gals would love to stay after practice to have a nice relaxing game with no referees and the pressure of coaches and crowds. If they don't feel like staying, I will. We can play some one-on-one. I imagine we'd be fairly evenly matched, as neither of has played Chaser or Keeper as far as I know. Think about it."