WHO: Jake Bexley and Lottie Sweeting
WHAT: Introductions
WHERE: Gryffindor common room
WHEN: 1979



Jake swiped an un-bitten apple swiftly out of the grasp of a fifth year, ignoring the sounds of annoyance that followed. He crossed the common room with a slow stride as he took in his current environment. There were Gryffindors studying, playing, fake-studying, fighting, and there was a bit of public snogging that no one cared to see. He kicked the leg of the chair that Ralph Merridew and Miranda Dodderidge had somehow squeezed into, causing them to tumble out with their limbs all tangled.

“Bexley!” Dodderidge yelped, her face quaffle red. Jake grinned and took another bite of his apple as he kept across the room, once again not acknowledging the tiny bit of havoc he’d created. Instead, he made his way over to the table by the fireplace, where his subject of interest was attempting some complex braids and twists in her hair while a mirror hovered in front of her pretty face. Jake came around the back of the redhead’s chair and he stared curiously until she noticed him.

He took that as an invitation and grabbed hold of the seat beside her, flipping it around so he could rest his arms and chin on the back of the chair.

“You’re Lottie Sweeting, right?”

Charlotte chewed on her lip as she tried her best to get her hair to stay put, but what she really needed was a third hand to possibly do some crafty charm work. Every time she moved on hand or the other, a piece hair fell out of place and it was extremely frustrating. Not that she was going anywhere special, but she was determined to figure out how to make it work ever since she had seen that seventh year Slytherin girl copy her last hair style. There had been a rumor she’d gone out with Stubby Boardman. Lottie didn’t believe a word of it, everyone knew that she was really not so subtly sneaking around with Aubrey. He must of been boring in bed if Franziska kept telling tales about a summer fling with a rockstar. That was neither here, nor there, she refused to be outdone as fair as her hair was concerned.

Catching sight of someone standing behind her in the mirror, Lottie ducked her head to catch sight of a face, but he was already moving to sit beside her. She did her best to contain her huff, didn’t he see that she was busy? She was going to inform him of just that when he spoke up and she caught sight of just who it was. Of course she knew exactly who Jake Bexley was. She knew who everyone on each of the house Quidditch teams were, but she especially knew of him. Pulling her eyes from him, she looked back to the mirror focusing her attention once more on her hair. And possibly trying to figure out what exactly she was supposed to say.

After a moment, she tentatively took one hand off her hair, then the other, allowing herself a triumphant grin when it all stayed as it should. “I am.” she finally answered grabbing the mirror out of the air, inspecting her hard work before allowing herself to look back to Jake, curious as to why he was even speaking to her. Not that he had any reason not to, but it was just--- unexpected. And that silly little crush she used to harbor when he first made the team, well that didn’t help much either.

Jake took another bite of his apple, looking her over. Gertrude had teased that he’d had a fan at one of the team practices, and it had him intrigued. Of course, Jake was currently snogging Kobe Catchlove between classes so he couldn’t seem too intrigued, but it was always nice to get to know your supporters.

“I hear you like quidditch,” he said as he spun the apple on its axis between his two fingers. “Why didn’t you try out for the team? You seem fit enough.”

He flashed a grin. She was already more interesting than Kobe, because Kobe couldn’t tell the difference between a quaffle and a snitch if both hit her in the head. She was a good snogger, though, and Jake often had to quiet her rather dim conversations with a kiss. Not too much of a problem, really, but it would make life a little less dull if he could actually speak to and snog a pretty face.

The apple got tossed between his hands for a moment before he took another bite, chewing thoughtfully. “I bet you’d be a good seeker.”

Lottie pursed her lips, unsure if she was liked the direction of this conversation. Yes, she loved quidditch, obviously she was fit enough, and she would have made a most excellent seeker. There was once a time where she wanted to nothing other than play seeker for the Pride of Portree. After all the games her father used to take her to (at least one per season) she couldn’t think of anything else. She spent ages in her backyard running around chasing charmed snitches that never hovered more than five feet off the ground.

It wasn’t until she was nine and her father attempted to teach her to fly that and she got her broom about ten feet off the ground that she discovered that she had a paralyzing fear of heights. She tried so very hard to overcome it but all that resulted in was her blacking out and breaking her arm falling off her broom. She didn’t give up til years later during her first flying lesson at Hogwarts, when this time she broke her other arm. Lottie had cried for a week over her crushed dream.

Her dad started sending Prophet clippings then. Teaching her how to pick out the relevant stats and how they all fit together. How to keep track of them herself while watching the game. And Lottie found that to be more fun than it would ever be to actually fly around on a broom herself, though there was no way that she was admitting to Jake Bexley that there was no way she could get more than eight feet off the ground without severe anxiety. That there was a reason, despite her love for the game, she never sat front row of the stands.

“Well,” she started, snatching the apple from him when he tried to toss it between his hands again. “I would have made a good seeker, but then I would have to spend the entire game focusing on just the snitch. Sure, a pivotal part of the game, but you miss so much if that’s all you pay attention to. I’d rather appreciate the whole game.” Feeling particularly bold, Lottie took a bite of his apple before handing it back to him. “I probably know more about how each of the players play than most of the actual players do.”

He didn’t really hear anything she said after she put the apple to her lips, well, he did, but it wasn’t as important as the image he was currently building in his head. Jake’s eyes involuntarily widened, and after a moment of gawking, he grinned. It had been a good decision to come over here as it was turning out that he had the best fans.

“That’s interesting,” he said with a nod, running a hand through his hair before standing. Jake tossed the apple over his shoulder and put his hand on the table, leaning into it. She liked quidditch and she was hot, that’s all Jake needed to know. He looked at her curiously. “Wait, is Lottie short for Charlotte?”

Jake’s attention span was that of a gnat’s, and while he questioned her he reached forward and tucked a loose curl behind her ear, his fingertips brushing along her jawline. He’d always liked redheads, still not quite over Lily Evans marrying that dumb Potter bloke.

She grinned at him, pleased to have his attention. “I think so. I want to know everything I can.” She wondered if it would be to much to reveal, for example, that she noticed Jake tended to favor shooting to the left goal over the right. She had settled on some random gossip about Louis Bonaccord that was bound to give them a bit of an edge when she switched topics on her.

“I--uh-- yes.” She answered a bit distracted by Jake’s fingers and her hair and--- blinking a few times trying to regain her thoughts. Hadn’t she just seen him snogging Catchlove not too long ago. She remember specifically this piece of gossip because Phoebe had placed her hand over her mouth to get her to shut up about how much she disliked Kobe Catchlove. As far as she knew though, it wasn’t as if they were actually dating. She resisted the urge to lean into his touch none the less.

She liked Jake though, so there was no way Charlotte was going to let him walk away thinking she wasn’t interested. Or walk away at all really. Propping her chin in her hand she leaned in looking up to him with a bit of a pout. “You’re not leaving already, are you? I was hoping to convince you to give me some insider secrets. I’d die to know what really goes on in the locker rooms.”

Jake raised a hand with a pout of his own, “Please forgive me for having to cut this short, I’ve got dueling club all the way on the west end of the castle.”

With his sights set on becoming an auror, the dueling club was one of the best ways to get into shape. Along with the quidditch, the DADA Club, and Charms club, Jake’s schedule was pretty packed, but he knew he would be able to find time for the girl who was quickly becoming his favorite fan. Don’t think he missed the look in her eye; Jake Bexley didn’t miss a beat.

He bit his tongue, heavily amused by this girl. Pretty, liked quidditch, and bold. Those should be necessary qualifications for getting into Gryffindor.

“We’ll talk later and I’ll give you the scoop,” he said, beginning to walk backwards. Jake sidestepped just in time to avoid hitting a coffee table and knocking over an exploding snap card castle. He wagged a finger at her. “And I’m not calling you ‘Lottie.’ Your mother gave you a beautiful name and you’re gonna use it.”

His eyes crinkled with his grin and he offered her a quick salute, “I’ll see you later, Charlotte.”