Revision vs Procrastination

It was the Easter holidays and like all the other mid-term holidays Natalie was staying at Hogwarts. She claimed it wasn't out of choice but really it was she simply didn't want to be around her 'oh so perfect' brother - the favourite child. Perhaps he wasn't her Mother's favourite, Mothers don't have favourites, but he was everybody elses. Her grandparents, her cousins, her aunties, her uncles, heck even the neighbours and the postman preferred Nathan to her. It was a fact that he was better than her in every way possible. 

Nathan was smart and coming from a muggle council estate hadn't stopped him being awarded a scholarship to a prestigious private school. He was captain of the cricket team, achieved straight A's, used his please and thank yous and he made Natalie damn aware how perfect he was. How irritating.

Natalie on the other hand was a troublemaker. At primary school she'd gotten in with the sort of children you don't want your child hanging around with. At eleven years old, the Summer before Hogwarts, she smoked her first cigarette. During summers home she spent all her days on a street-corner, under a motorway bridge, sitting on a broken swing in the park. Natalie was the anti-Nathan. 

It wasn't that she was overly troublesome, she had a heart and stood up for herself and if that made her 'common' so be it. Natalie wasn't going to change herself for anyone, not any teacher nor her family. Not that her family could say anything they hadn't exactly done well in life in comparison to their affluent brothers and sisters, something they repeatedly shovelled down Natalie's throat in an effort to whip her into shape. It never worked. Natalie upheld that 'you're sounding like a hypocrite' argument... Or words to that effect.

The castle was quiet. Most student went home for the two weeks at Easter meaning the Gryffindor had few people to entertain her. As a result she decided a trip to Diagon Alley was in order. After sneaking through the passage concealed by the one eye witch Natalie flooed from The Hogs Head to The Leaky Cauldron and stepped out onto the cobbled street.

The red head never was one to spend her money, she never had any to spend, but products from WWW were needed to relieve her boredom. Perhaps she would boobytrap the boys dorm ready for when they got back? That would be good. 

Stepping into the store Natalie began to browse the shelves in search for something that would make the perfect prank. This certainly did beat the revision Natalie really should be doing for her upcoming OWLs

Fred Weasley had recieved Wheezes at the turning of the year, but it was still Jack Dyllan's kingdom, and everyone knew it. She had owned the shop in part since her seventh year of Hogwarts, taking over it in full after the death of her beloved cousin Elliot. The economic boom it had flourished in had been because of the new life she had rbeathed into it. New inventions, improvements on the old, and adjustments to the way the shop was run. Comedy nights drew crowds in on the weekends, and every holiday sported a fireworks show a la Wheezes. Jack really should have been a Weasley.

Even with her insanely busy schedule, running between Quidditch, home, the Ministry, and day care, she somehow managed to stay in contact with the two shops she would always have a fondness for. Her love for Satan's was much more twisted, yes, but she owened the place - she had to visit it sometimes, and it was hard to hate a place that had made you what you were. Then there was Wheezes, which would always be the place that inspired her that magic was interesting and fantastical. Wheezes inspired a sort of whimsy and surprise that not every magical institution managed to incite.

So, when she entered Wheezes, she was greeted like an old friend. The same old staff remained, of course, and these were the people who had not had a comedy career until Jack had gotten ahold of them. She loved them dearly - Kirsty, Andy, and Gary, her three stooges - and they loved her equally. As soon as she came in, one of the staff robes was throne around her, and she was pulled between each one, hugged and kissed and patted and pinched. What should have been invasive was oddly endearing.

She stood at the top of the second floor, right at the top of the stairs, casually watching Andy who had promised to play a prank on the newest clerk, Roger. She watched, always curious to see the creativity of her former employees, enjoying the fun that it created. The ambiance of the shop somehow made her forget the heavy parts in her life. Recognition from those around her reminded her that to most people, she was a reknowned prankster who was now making a name for herself as a Beater. It was a better form of recognition than she was accustomed to, that was for sure.

((Sorry I didn't do much with this, I just can't find a reason for Jack to approach Natalie.))

(ooc: that's okay, in all fairness I didn't really give you anything to do with)

Walking past the love potions without a glance Natalie now found herself at the center for all smells strange and wonderful. A stink pellet or two could come in useful and would certainly cause a commotion and a inject some fun during dinner tomorrow. Just as Natalie was about to chuck a packet into her orange basket she was suddenly distracted by a rather lot of noise coming from the second floor.

Looking up she saw, no surely it wasn't... it couldn't be, could it? There, standing by the banister of the second floor being hugged and kissed and patted and pinched was none other than Jaquellene Dyllan. The Jack Dyllan! Natalie had been following her career since it started, she was a living legend and one of the best beaters in the country. Jack Dyllan was what Natalie could only dream of becoming.

Quickly rummaging in her bag Natalie found an old piece of potions homework labelled with a large 'P'. Oh well, so the quidditch player would think she's stupid what did it matter? Chances are the fifteen year old red head would be forgotten about later.

Making away up the staircase Natalie approach the united friends, her potions assignment in her hand held out until- she didn't have a quill. Of all days not to have a quill! Then again Natalie couldn't be mad at herself as she left her quill behind most days, it was literally a permanent resident to the Gryffindor girls fifth dormitory now.

'Jack Dyllan?' Natalie asked shrugging off the fact that she didn't have a quill, so what if she didn't get her potions homework signed it would simply have to remain poor forever. 'Wow. It's, it's really you. I've wanted to see you play ever since I started Hogwarts but I could never afford the tickets, plus I'm muggle born so my parents would never be able to take me to a game. Not that they would if they could.They'd happily take my brother, but then again he's the favourite and.. and I'm rambling. Should I just?'

Leave. You're humiliating yourself in front of Jack Dyllan, she's going to think you're off your rocker! Natalie thought, her body communicating her ongoing debate to stay or go by undecided motion whether to turn around or not.

Jack's life had become more mundane than she had expected. It was not Quidditch that served to fill her life with exciting adventures, but her job in the Ministry and her role in the Order. Quidditch was very much a job, not a lifestyle. Yes, games were interesting. Suddenly, Jack was a star. But the Falmouth Falcons were known for their focus on strategy in the field, rather than a strategy for the public. Their coach did not encourage interviews nor photoshoots the way some other coaches did, an Jack, as captain, practically forbade it. The team wanted people on it who were playing for the sport, not for the recognition. So, the people who typically recognized her face were those who came to games. And her name had been known before her killer Beating arm had been.

Most of Jack’s time was spent working with paperwork from the Ministry, taking Sunny in between home and daycare, making meals for their small zoo, and fretting about the current state of affairs. Quidditch practice, with its grueling hours and physical exhaustion, was a break, and games were an absolute vacation.  Coming to Wheezes was an unheard of oasis. It was a nice change to a life where the routine was change and lack of comfort, to come to a place that had once meant stability and shelter to her and to so many people who still visited for those very reasons.

Roger drank from the coffee that Andy delivered him and when he took the cup away, his lips had a deep red lipstick imprint on them. He thanked Andy and walked away, leaving Jack to give Andy a thumbs up. A voice caught her attention and she turned around to see a girl asking for her. Jack turned, a little surprised but mostly because her focus had been so drawn on her old-employee and esteemed friend. She turned to face the girl who couldn’t be older than sixteen.

“Yeah, that’s me,” she said, looking at her. Jack raised an eyebrow at the start of the girl’s sentence but relaxed more into a smile as she continued on. Now she understood. She understood the troubles of a muggleborn, alright. “No worries. Hey, I get the whole muggleborn thing, believe me. I didn’t see a professional game until I graduated, but I found ways to keep up with everything. Magical radio saved my life. But, what’s your name?”

Not only was Jack Dyllan, the Jack Dyllan, standing before her she had asked Natalie for her name. Jack was talking to her, the self destructive, runt of the family Natalie George. This had to be a dream, in no reality would a famous Quidditch star talk to the Gryffindor. Nobody gave her the time of day usually, not in a positive way anyway. Well, if it was a dream may as well milk it.

'It's Nat.' She told her before allowing the potions assignment to scrunch away in her back jeans pocket. So Jack was a muggle born too? And a beater? Perhaps it wasn't such a crazy dream of Natalie's to become a Quidditch player, besides what else would she do? Work in a shop or remain at the Hogs Head indefinitely? For a time Natalie had come to terms that she'd be forever pulling pints and collecting glasses.

'I guess I should invest in a radio then.' Natalie said knowing full well she wouldn't be able to afford word, then again if this was a dream that hardly mattered. She'd wake up in the morning and realise she is still a nobody, a troublesome academic failure. 'It might give me a bit of encouragement.' The Gryffindor added as a side note, not really sure what to say to a professional Quidditch player. In theory she had dozens of questions, questions about techniques, questions about their favourite games and broomsticks but right now Natalie's mind was blank.

The girl gave her name and Jack offered a hand for a handshake, ready to give yet another hand-crushing calloused grip. If the girl really did love Quidditch, she would know Jack had a strong grip. It was just part of the business to give a strong hand, almost a signal that they took their job that required strength and intimidation very seriously. And offering a hand was a signal of respect, and Jack was sure the girl would be happy to shake her hand. Jack would have loved to meet a professional Quidditch player during her Hogwarts years.

“Invest in a radio,” Jack echoed, nodding sincerely. “It’s a pinch on pennies, trust me, I know, but it’ll be worth it. Especially when you’re home during the summer and you’re completely disconnected with the magical world, a radio will be absolutely priceless to you.” Jack had learned that around fourth year and it was the only reason Jack had not gone insane as she had waited for each new year to begin to deliver her to the world she had always felt more connected with. Life as a muggleborn meant living for the end of vacations.

Jack paused. “We have a match coming up – if you can get there, I can get you tickets.” Jack did not have much reason to horde her comp tickets – it was typically only Max and Sunny who came to see her play, Gabby and Charlie only tagging along when they had nothing better to do.  She always had a bunch of extra tickets and Jack would love to pass the love of the sport onto a young fan who could not see a match otherwise.

Natalie grinned as she headed straight in for the hand shake, a strong one at that. Perhaps it was because she was so used to gripping a beaters bat? All the pumped up anger from the other day seemed to have been channeled into a positive outlook for once. Natalie George, plain, Natalie George was shaking hands with one of the best beaters in Britain.

'A radio.' Natalie muttered to herself nodding at the idea. It certainly would help with escaping the muggle born where she didn't belong. She wouldn't have to storm out of the house, head to the rundown park and smoke a cigarette - Well she probably would still do that but with a radio for company she wouldn't find herself talking to seventeen year olds who wanted an easy A.

The Gryffindor didn't grin, it was a lovely gesture for the Quidditch player to offer her free tickets but to Natalie it felt like charity. She'd always planned to pay off the money for her broomstick then continue working to buy herself a ticket to a game and here Jack Dyllan was offering her one. Not only did it feel like charity but Natalie hadn't done anything to deserve that, she was troublesome, distracted others from their learning and wasn't shy to start arguments with students and teachers alike.

'I'd love to take them but I probably wouldn't be able to get there,' Natalie said. It wasn't a lie, how would she get to the Quidditch games with her parents being muggles? 'And I kind of haven't done anything to earn them.' The Gryffindor added with a glum look.