It had not taken Maggie very long to feel welcome and loved in the Tornadoes locker room. She had been terrified that they would see her as the runt that Montrose didn’t need. The championship team sends away one of their starting chasers just weeks before the preseason was to begin! Of course that meant that she wasn’t up to par to continue flying like a champ, so what could the Tornadoes have seen in her?

Apparently, quite a lot. West Sumpter was more than supportive, right from the start, and fellow Tornadoes star Wendy Midgen was so excited to have a trio of female chasers that it seemed like a match made in heaven. Maggie felt her confidence rejuvenated and even though the team’s record had not been the best this past season, they were still in third place, in front of the Magpies, and Maggie sure as hell had a lot to do with it.

So---it was a strange feeling, that after nearly nine months of playing with the team, that she found herself frozen outside the locker room door, scared to enter. Her team was waiting for her to return from what was supposed to be a quick jog around the pitch but what had turned into a mission to find Adrian. Adrian had made his choice, he needed time and a break or whatever it was he’d said that had sent her crying for twenty minutes. Maggie hoped her eyes didn’t have the tell-tale puffiness of tears, and she took deep, shaky breaths to try and act as if she was not ready to crumble under all the stress that had fallen upon her shoulders.

She was a Tornado. She whirled through the air with defeaning strength, she was the hail that shot down from the sky and destroyed whatever came into its path. She was---the thunder that shook their opponents to the core. A breakup could not ruin her spirit.

With those final thoughts Maggie pushed through the door, expecting West to be stomping around, panicked that she’d abandoned the team, Silas to be muttering about how he’d always thought she was the weakest link, but Maggie was stunned to find the locker room in near silence, all of her teammates sitting in front of their lockers, eyes shot up toward her looking worried and sick. Maggie stared at each of them for a few seconds, able to read their minds and just see the concern for her etched into their expressions. Her team cared, and they weren’t upset about the dramatics that she was bringing, or pissed off at the negative media that the whole wedding had brought.

“I---” she started, but just trying to speak about it, to tell them that there wouldn’t be anymore miserable days was all it took for the waterworks that she had tried to hard to stop and clear up before to burst free. Maggie’s shoulders sagged as tears racked her body, feeling miserable and ashamed that she couldn’t be stronger for her team. She just knew that once they got on the pitch all eyes would be on her and she wasn’t going to be able to hold up the tough exterior she so desperately wanted to display as a Tornado.

The feeling of standing alone in the center of this mess was short lived, however, as she was tackled in the side by a fury of curly brown hair. Maggie could barely keep herself up when more bodies launched themselves at her, and through her blurred vision she was able to make out the faces of her team.

“Boys are stupid,” Wendy let out.

“They are, I’m one of the stupidest,” Martin agreed.

“We’re going to pulverize them!” Saoirse added, squeezing in between the boys.

“The Catapults are lame, anyway,” Sophie added, smirking as West put his arms around the bunch.

“We’re all here for you, Mags,” her captain said, and Maggie smiled solemnly, sniffling. A cough was heard from across the locker room and the collective group hug of the Tornadoes shifted to eye Silas, who was still standing by his locker, looking unamused. He felt their gaze on him and let out an annoyed breath.

“He is sitting out the match,” the seeker drawled, tightening his gloves, “it shows how much stronger the Tornadoes are than the weak Catapults.”

“That was the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me,” Maggie choked out, and that brought on a chorus of awws and another group hug. Maggie allowed herself to be buried in the arms of her team, knowing that this camaraderie was going to be a vital part of her getting her life back in order.

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IMaggie's head dropped so far back that she could almost see behind her. This office was stifling, and while she'd tuned her parents out nearly an hour ago, their incessant bickering and lecturing was still fueling the suffocating atmosphere. She couldn't even figure out why they thought they should be here in the first place, but she'd never been able to understand them anyway.

"Of course she's signing with the Harpies, Rudolph!" Gwendolyn Morgan snapped. Maggie's mother had never changed her name after she got married, claiming that it was a sense of womanly pride to not have to be forced to change their identity simply because they decided to be with one man for the rest of their lives. Wasn't that punishment enough, her mother would say. "Their new manager already has the press conference set up, it's going to be a beautiful way to inaugurate the new stadium. Think, Rudy!"

"I am sure our dear Magnolia would love to see the world," her father retorted in his thick German accent. His deep voice had intimidated many a scout that had come to speak to Maggie, and she was surprised she'd received any offers at all. Her parents, while she did love them, where the most incessantly annoying pair of people when it came to quidditch. And grades. And boys. And---they were just annoying.

The doors opened and her parents shot to the door to great the prospective scouts. They'd managed to get at least five teams in the room, and Maggie remained in her seat as she tried to pick each out. She knew the Harpies' manager (her godmother, great), Caerphilly was here, and so were Kenmare, Portree, and Tutshill. The Heidelberg Harriers had visited last week, as it was the twentieth anniversary of their victory against the Peruvian National Team, a game that had lasted five days and sixteen hours. For some reason (a poorly disguised way of personally entertaining her) they decided to celebrate the occasion in London.

In her parents' house.

Maggie really, really hated the politics of quidditch.

Some days she didn't even want to play the damn game. She was good at it, she was damn good at it, but with how frantic her parents got about it, every decision she made about the sport felt like a chore. While she was at Hogwarts, Maggie was able to do whatever she wanted, but the second she stepped back home her life had been constricted to her parents' wills and their quidditch royalty duties. Maggie couldn't count the functions she'd been to, she couldn't name all of the people she'd taken pictures with, and she really did not care about all the gifts she'd received from teams this past year trying to recruit her. The totally illegal recruiting gifts, by the way.

She had been ignored for five minutes, and that was all her ego could take. How could these people want her if they refused to even acknowledge her? Couldn't fight that logic. Maggie stood up quickly and her heels clipped angrily against the wood floor. If all they cared about was her parents' legacy and failed to impress her, then why should she bother with any of these teams?

Before Maggie could get to the door, a stubby young woman with frizzy hair and large glasses nearly toppled through. Landing at her feet, Maggie noticed that the woman's spilled briefcase had the Montrose Magpies' logo splattered all about it. Ah. The Magpies. They certainly weren't the most illustrious of teams at the moment. That was all beginning to change with the new blood they'd recently acquired, but they did have a reputation for rash decisions that made everyone else in the quidditch leagues scratch their head in confusion. To be a Magpie was simply asking for everyone to question your sanity, and wonder how much of your head was really in the game.

Hm.

Maggie smiled down at the woman, who was still face planted into the floor. Showing a very out of character expression of sympathy, Maggie put out her hand to help the Magpies' scout up.

"Hi, I'm Maggie Brand," she started before the woman could even stand. "And I'm going to sign with the Magpies, 'kay?"

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Maggie nearly flung herself down the stairs of the stadium. She'd never run so fast in her life, there had nothing important enough to run to, and she was going to knock down anything that got in her way. Panic, sheer panic was pushing her through the crowd, and Maggie let out a startled yelp as her eyes caught sight of the big viewing screen hovering on the opposite side of the pitch. She couldn't keep her eyes off of it, why were they replaying it?

"Move! Move!" Maggie shouted, her voice cracking as tears came pouring out of her eyes as the giant image of Adrian hurtled down to the pitch once again across the giant screen. The gasp of the crowd was still in her ears, the crack from the bludger hitting---

"¡Movimento!" she shrieked at the vendor standing in the way of the corridor. He jumped and dropped all of his slushie drinks. Maggie hadn't noticed her slip into Portguese, but it had definitely gotten everyone else's attention. She had been learning a few phrases, she had to if she wanted to live here but that wasn't important right now.

Find the lift, find the lift, she had a pass, she had a pass to get down to the locker room, she had a pass to get down to him and---

Maggie shrieked, unable to form words this time, to get the crowd to split in half to let her run through. Her hair completely fell out of its tie as she slapped the door of the lift to open up, and once it did her shaking hands could barely function well enough to press the button to the level she needed to be on. Her knees were wobbling as she waited for the lift to move and get down to the locker rooms, or wherever---it wasn't moving fast enough. Maggie let out a frustrated yell and stomped her feet, looking like a child throwing a tantrum over a toy they couldn't have.

She lurched through the doors the second they opened, the bright lights of the floor nearly blinding her. There was noise, and more people, but not the person she needed to see.

"Where is he!" Maggie found the most official looking person, he was in healer robes, she was sure. The man stared down at her with a bewildered expression and he looked around for some sort of explanation for the crazed looking blond latched onto his arm.

"¿Quem são você?" the healer asked, and Maggie blinked up at him with a mix of confusion and rage. He didn't know who she was? How could anyone on the staff of the Braga Broomfleet not know who she was? That's what he was saying, right? Maggie felt a familiar flare of rage quickly build up and burst from her as she jolted away from the offensive man.

"I----É----MEU--MY---MARIDO! HUSBAND!"

The healer jerked away and pointed toward a red curtain on the other side of the room. Maggie didn't need anything else from him. She burst away and nearly tore the curtains off of their hooks.

And there he was. Finally. Maggie stood at the end of the bed as a healer checked out Adrian's eyes with the tip of his lit wand, her husband sitting up with his arm in a sling and looking bored. He twisted slightly and spotted her out of the corner of his eyes and weakly smiled.

"Dislocated shoulder and a broken wrist," Adrian explained, wincing as he shrugged, his eye looking black and purple. Maggie nodded once and walked the length of the bed to him to stand by him as the healer finished his work. After a few minutes they received a nod of approval, and the extent of Adrian's injuries were bound to his shoulder, his black eye, and a couple of bumps and bruises. When the healer left he shut the curtain behind him, and Maggie helped Adrian bring his legs back up on the bed.

"You okay?" he asked her. His good arm reached out to smooth some hair out of her face. Maggie frowned and nodded, "You looked scared when you got here."

"Me, scared?" she responded, rolling her eyes at her keenly aware husband. Maggie shook her head and busied herself with fixing his pillows. "You wish."

Adrian laughed and pushed forward to kiss her. Maggie obliged, but the second their lips touched she burst into tears and threw her arms around his neck. She heard him grunt in some sort of pain (she'd apologize later), but Adrian's good arm wrapped around her in a comforting manner.

"Don't ever scare me like that again," she choked, "I will---I will be so mad if you do that again---"

He let out another laugh and Maggie punched his side. "Ay! Fine! Yes, yes I promise--"

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Maggie whipped off her gloves, throwing them down to the floor of the changing room in a fury. She stared daggers into the dirty, ragged looking boys of the Gryffindor team, all of whom had managed to find something interesting on the floor and that enraged her even more.

“Have any of you ever ridden a bloody broomstick before?” she snapped, untying her left arm straps. Her skin underneath was bruised, completely purple and blue from her wrist to her shoulder, indicating how brutally the Slytherins’ bludgers had struck her this match. Not to mention the left side of her ribs ached, her left hips, her left thigh, it seemed like her team had only decided to guard the right side of their seeker and had thought that would be enough. Maggie’s brain was still slowing to a stop from the constant spinning she’d endured during the two hour long match.

“Is this your first time playing quidditch?” Maggie said hotly, striking Fabian Prewett in the back of her head with her gear. The fourth year chaser yelped and pushed away from her, causing the other boys to slide further down the bench to create some distance between them and their thoroughly pissed off seeker. It was hard enough playing with a team that had literally only been put together four weeks ago, but she was the only girl on the squad and it made getting her point across to these fools quite difficult.

Alex Smith grumbled something to Charlie Spinnet, who ducked his head to bite back a laugh. Maggie squared her shoulders.

“What’s that, Smith? Got something to say?” she snapped, crossing her arms tightly even though it pained her. He looked across the locker bay to gain some silent support from his teammates, but they remained quiet. Looking put off, he stuck up his chin and sneered.

“I was saying, that with how much of a bitch you’ve been, you must be on the rag,” Alex said, causing the other boys to snicker and move even further away from Maggie.

How dare he?! These boys were the ones who didn’t know how to fly, or defend, or even put their equipment on right, and he was blaming her anger on----on-----Maggie’s face burnt a deep red and was off her feet in a lunge to tear Smith’s head off when a pair of arms caught her around the waist. She struggled, knowing exactly who was holding her back.

“Mattias! Let me go!” Maggie shrieked, but their captain (who had stayed out on the pitch to argue with Madam Hooch about some calls) merely grunted and pulled her away and out of the changing room. Smith sent her some rude hand gestures and Maggie began to violently plot his demise. When they were finally a safe distance from the rest of the team, Adrian Mattias finally put her down on the floor, turning her to face him.

“Let me see your arm,” he said, not bothering to apologize for the manhandling of her he just committed. Maggie twisted her lips in great annoyance, but struck out her arm, causing herself to wince. She kept her eyes off of Adrian, still rather furious with the entire male species. He held her arm delicately in his hands, fingers circling the bruises. “Cabrón.”

Maggie dared to look at him. “What’s that mean?” she asked, finding the way he spat out the word as curious. Adrian looked up at her, eyebrows high.

“It is too vulgar of a word to translate,” he said, an amused smile playing on his lips. “But Black has a lot to learn before the next match. They all do.”

She appreciated his acknowledgment of his players’ lack of experience. It was one thing to have played quidditch in your backyard, but flying against another team that worked together for at least a full season could be quite a shock. It was Maggie’s first year on the school team, but she’d been playing quidditch since she could walk, she’d joined the youth leagues, she played all summer---she had avoided the school team because of her class schedule, but this year she had taken the chance and was finding herself wondering if it had been the right one.

“I will take you to Madam Pomfrey,” Adrian said, and Maggie noticed that he hadn’t let go of her arm. She shrugged her shoulders, gently pulling herself away.

“That’s all right,” she said, cradling her arm against her. Maggie heard the rest of the boys’ voices, indicating that they were getting ready to head out as well. “Smith’ll say I’m too weak to make it there myself.” Maggie glowered, turning her head back toward the changing room as the boys began to exit.

As she glared, Adrian came close and whispered into her ear, “I give you permission to break his nose.” He pulled away quickly, leaning back against the wall of the narrow corridor to give his team room to pass. Maggie’s shoulders straightened once more.

They marched past them, most of their heads ducked in shame. Adrian had no problem in roughly whacking each passing boy in the shoulder, but when Alex Smith came around, Maggie swung out her good arm and clocked him straight in the jaw. Not exactly a broken nose, but it would do. The chaser stumbled into the opposite wall and Maggie pushed forward, slamming both hands into his chest and grabbing onto the front of Smith’s dirty jersey.

“If you ever speak to me like that again, I will destroy you,” Maggie hissed, figuring she may as well go for the dramatics. Smith gaped, and she shoved him once more. “Cabrón,” she added for good measure.

Maggie flounced away as Adrian howled with laughter.

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The back porch of Adrian’s house in Portugal ended mere feet from the ocean. The short expanse of beach was beautiful and smooth, creating the perfect illusion of paradise. The sun setting on the horizon was the most beautiful she had ever seen, and Maggie wished that they were in a better state to enjoy it. She let out a breath, her gaze dropping from the sunset to look at her hands clasped on her lap.

They had whisked themselves away to the country to avoid the vicious English media and it had definitely lifted some heavy weight off of her shoulders. She was sure Adrian could appreciate the solace they achieved here as well, but there was still the feeling of trepidation between them. Even though they were sitting beside each other on the comfortable white couch on the porch, shoulders grazing, Maggie felt as if they were a thousand miles apart. They had talked, they had spent endless nights talking about everything and they’d seem to come to terms with the majority of their issues. Tears had been shed and voices raised, but by the end of it all they always kissed each other goodnight and said they loved one another. Still, there was one last barrier to break, one that had always come so very easy to Maggie and Adrian.

“The top of my feet are burnt,” Adrian noted, stretching out his legs and showing off the tomato red skin of his feet. Maggie tutted, wondering how he could have lathered Josef in a thick layer of sun lotion from head to between his toes and had forgotten about himself. Perhaps he had been too busy chasing their son around, who was now passed out in his bed, snoring louder than she’d ever heard him. Adrian wiggled his toes, “I guess no shoes for me.”

Maggie lazily swung out her foot to pat the top of his with her toes, earning a yelp from her sunburnt man. She dropped her chin to her shoulder to smile innocently, which Adrian immediately took on as a challenge of sorts.

“We are playing that game, hm?” he said, his hands immediately grasping her wrists. Maggie squealed, feigning a struggle as Adrian pushed forward. She laid back on the couch and he pinned her hands above her head with one of his. His free hand began to roam down her side, tickling her under her arm. Her laughter rung out across the beach and into the waves of the ocean. Maggie felt free to laugh and be happy, to enjoy being with Adrian and playing with him in this fashion. It felt so good to know that he still enjoyed her company, that it was easy to make each other smile and laugh with a simple touch. Soon she was begging him to stop through her giggling and the tears his dancing fingers and brought out.

“You win!” she squeaked, managing to hook her leg around his, not having noticed before this moment that Adrian had positioned himself quite comfortably on top of her. This couch was certainly larger than she’d realized, and her laughter quieted as she noticed Adrian had come to this conclusion faster than she. His hand loosened its grip on her wrist and he hovered over her, their breaths heavy from the tickling struggle. They hadn’t been this close to each other in this physical way in months and it was evident that they were both very aware of the way they were situated.

Her hand traced itself up his bare chest and rested on his shoulder. She yearned to kiss him, to do more than just that, but Maggie knew that she could not be the one to initiate this. She was the one that had broken the trust and it was Adrian that would have to accept her fully and completely back into his life. He was a good man, he was Josef’s father no matter what happened between them, but was he to be her partner in every other aspect of their relationship? This is where they hadn’t dared go before, it was as if it was the first time all over again and Maggie didn’t know if she could bear the rejection.

Adrian’s eyes were busy searching her face. Maggie’s attempts to keep her breaths even were poor, and her eyes fluttered shut as his hands began to roam again, up her thigh, to her waist, resting a moment on the swell of her stomach before reaching up to cup her face.

“What do I win?” he asked, his whisper barely audible over the sounds of the waves crashing onto the beach. Maggie didn’t want to open her eyes incase this was all her mind playing tricks on her. Her hand groped for his side, coming around him to pull him forward and down to her. Thankfully she didn’t had to open her eyes as Adrian kissed her hard and fully, a sound kiss that they hadn’t shared since this cold past winter. He tasted so good, he smelled like sand and the salt of the ocean, and Maggie let out a whimper of pleasure. He had her, he had all of her, and she desperately need him to gather up his winnings.

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It was difficult to pretend you were happy when you actually despised yourself. Instead of smiling and glowing like a new mother should, Maggie picked at her nail polish, keeping her head ducked low to avoid the photographers across the street from the bakery. They had been aggressively following her since she’d been released from the hospital and had turned into a swarm of manic clicks and snaps since some doubt had been put into the parentage of her son. The latest victim was a bloke she used to know back in school and Maggie had been cold to him when he voiced his concern. What did Adrian Mattias care about the British media thinking he was the father of some ditzy blonde’s child? All he had to do was wait out the frenzy until the reporters found something more interesting to concern themselves with and he’d be off the hook. He’d at least saved her the embarrassment of publicly denying his role in her son’s life, which had been kind of him.

She tapped her foot, hoping to urge the line to move faster. She needed to pick up her brother’s birthday cake and he only liked a certain kind that they only made in a few bakeries. His favorite one had come from Caerphilly so there she was, hiding behind her sunglasses so that the residents of the semi-magical area, not to mention frantic quidditch fans, wouldn’t recognize her. With the photographers now crossing the street and pressing their lens against the glass of the bakery, her disguise wasn’t going to last for long.

Could this line move any slower? As the door jingled open, Maggie ducked to stand beside the person in front of her, but as she maneuvered herself she began to notice the whispers, and soon there were pointed fingers and quite suddenly she felt as if all the eyes in the bakery were on her. Her face burned in embarrassment and she kept forward, hoping to ignore anyone who might think it was a good idea to come up to her. The whispers grew louder and she bit her tongue, not ready to face any fans that might think it was okay to accost her, or for any photographers to catch her looking a wreck in a dress she was only wearing because she couldn’t fit into any of her regular clothes yet.

Why had she even come out? Stupid Geoffrey and his dumb pineapple floating upside down cake!

A high-pitched shriek erupted from behind Maggie, but it wasn’t one of fear or alarm. It was one she definitely recognized and she winced in anticipation----there it was. Following the initial scream was a chorus of screams flooding in through the open front door. Her eyes grew wide with surprise; pushing the doorway open was none other than Adrian Mattias.

Maggie watched the newest and freshest face of the Catapults squad graciously sign a few autographs and shoot off award winning smiles at all his newly acquired fans. Maggie watched him chit chat with the fans, smile and wave, causing one girl to fall over and into her friend’s arms. Merlin, it didn’t take much to be a superstar around these parts, hm? Maggie bristled, glad that the attention had been taken off of her (or had it been on her at all?), but what was he doing here? It had to be a coincidence, or had he just seen the crowds and wanted to be the center of attention? He would no doubt recognize her and------oh no. This was bad. He couldn’t be in the same place as her and...what if he didn’t acknowledge her at all? What if he acted as if he didn’t know her because he didn’t want his name attached to her controversy?

What if----he walked straight over to her, arms stretched out in anticipation of a hug?

She was startled, confused, most definitely embarrassed, but Maggie didn’t hesitate in hugging him, even managing to produce a smile. Adrian gave surprisingly good hugs and he even lifted her off her feet for a moment. When he put her back to the ground, he moved to rest his cheek against hers, “If we’re going to do this, it will be done right, yes?”

A rush of---something shot through her and Maggie pulled back quickly; did he mean...? Startled, she simply gaped, and apparently that was the signal for Adrian to push forward and kiss her. How dare he! She had not given him permission to kiss her, though as she pressed her lips against his, Maggie realized that to the public, they had done far more than hugs and kissing. She hummed a sound of approval into his mouth, naturally slipping under his arm as they pulled apart, Adrian standing firmly by her side and pointing out all the delicious treats he would like to try.

Maggie watched him over her sunglasses for a moment before slipping her arm around his waist. A genuine smile emerged from her lips as he announced his fascination of the pineapple floating upside down cake, and Maggie let out a laugh before she began to explain the reason she was here in the first place.

Maybe this pretending to be happy thing wouldn’t be so hard after all.

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