"City of Love"
Natalie Malfoy hadn’t even been in Paris for twenty four hours before she was woken up by a loud banging on the door of her hotel room. It was one of the most luxurious private hotels in Paris that was, thankfully, being run entirely by wizarding staff while the national team was in town. What wasn’t luxurious, however, was the ridiculous pounding on her door that caused her to jump awake and fall off her bed.
Prowling across the room wearing nothing but an enormous t-shirt that went down to her mid thigh, she yanked the door open and blearily peered out into the hallway to spot Eugene Dent.
“Dent, it’s four in the bloody morning, what the fuck do you want?”
His pale eyes flicked over her and he turned bright red before he found a spot over her shoulder very interesting. “Uh, we’re, uh, we’re having mandatory team nap later. . . . you can sleep then.”
“Oh, excuse me, is that before or after mandatory team lunch?” she couldn’t resist being sarcastic at four in the morning and after he so blatantly checked her out. “Or did you want to have mandatory team date underneath the Eiffel Tower?”
Dent scowled, “just get dressed Malfoy. We’re doing team bonding activities and then getting mandatory team breakfast.”
She paused, a smirk breaking over her face. “Does this involve waking everyone else up?” If she could ruin Ricky Webster’s beauty sleep, waking up at four would be worth it.
“Well, the team has to be awake to participate in team bonding activities,” he snarked and took a step back, signaling their conversation was over. “Get dressed.”
“Let me wake Ricky up,” she demanded.
“Fine.”
“Yes!” she squealed and slammed the door shut. Rushing all around the room to get ready before flinging the door back open. Dent was leaning against the wall, running a hand through his cropped dark hair and looking regretful that their first game was in Paris of all places.
“I’m waking Pretty Ricky, you can wake the Pottingers,” she said as they hurried down the carpeted hall. It was silent at this hour but her excitement was mounting. “Caddy is anyone’s game.”
“I’m the captain, Malfoy. That means I give the orders,” Dent said with feigned annoyance. “But fine.”
She flew to a stop outside Ricky Webster’s door and began pounding on it with the same amount of force Dent had used on her door.
When her hand started getting sore, she yelled, “Ricky! Open the damn door-”
The door popped open a crack and a blue eye appeared, blinking at her in confusion.
“Wake up-” she began but the door was thrown open and Ricky Webster gave her a sultry smile. He wore only a silk bathrobe, with nothing underneath, and he hadn’t even bothered to tie it at the front.
“Beautiful! You’re a little late but we can restart the party-”
“Webster!” she slapped a hand over her eyes, turned and tried to stumble back down the hallway while shrieking, “Dent! Ricky’s bloody naked and wants to shag me!”
“Why is that so shocking?” came the not at all surprised voice of the team captain. “Webster, get dressed and tell whatever French girl you have in there to go home. We’re having team bonding time and then heading to practice.”
“Team bonding can happen in my bed-”
“Webster, now.”
Ricky grumbled but retreated into his room and closed the door with a click.
“You can look, Malfoy.”
Natalie uncovered her eyes to stare at Dent standing directly in front of her, his icy blue eyes studying her with a mixture of amusement and exasperation.
“You knew that’d happen,” she immediately accused him.
He shrugged, “maybe. But it got you out of bed, didn’t it?”
“Yeah, and almost into Webster’s bed.”
Leonard Cadwallader stepped out of the room next to Ricky’s and his jaw dropped, eyes bulging as he glanced between Natalie and Dent. “Malfoy slept in Webster’s bed?”
“No,” Natalie rolled her eyes.
Caddy looked bewildered. “Webster slept in Malfoy’s bed?”
Natalie made gagging sounds while Dent sighed, “no, Caddy. . . .”
“Dent. . . do we have to-”
“Shut up, Ricky,” snapped Eugene Dent as he led them to the foot of the Eiffel Tower and stated he had gotten them special permission to climb it all the way up.
“But we haven’t even eaten breakfast!” Ricky continued to whine as the Quidditch team stared at their determined captain.
Dent made to bark a response but was interrupted by a loud scoffing sound.
Natalie Malfoy rolled her eyes, slammed Ricky on the shoulder and skipped past Dent, heading towards the lower staircase.
“Anyone who beats me to the top can get. . . a kiss. . . .” she leered back at the team with a wink and darted up the stairs.
“How about a shag?” shouted Ricky as Leonard Cadwallader and Eugene Dent took off after her. Ricky, grumbling and reluctant, followed them. The Pottingers brought up the rear.
“Don’t you have a boyfriend, Malfoy?” Dent called from right behind her as they sprinted up the stairs.
“Yes,” she said and moved faster. The rest of the team hurrying to keep up.
“So isn’t kissing one of us cheating on him?”
“You’re assuming one of you is going to beat me,” she sneered over her shoulder, smirking as he began falling behind. Caddy was on his heels, with Ricky not too far behind. The Pottingers were the only three who didn’t care about this little competition. Either because they were married, or had immediately understood it wasn’t a real competition.
Dent grunted and began gaining on her.
Somewhere between halfway and the top, their pace collectively began to slow as muscles started screaming and lungs started heaving.
“I think — it should be — a shag,” Ricky said between breaths, “this is. . . hard. . . .”
Natalie still led the team, though Dent and Caddy were competing right behind her. “At your rate,” she huffed, “you won’t get anything.”
Ricky made an irritated noise and started gaining on Dent and Caddy. Though out of the corner of her eye she saw Dent move to block Ricky from overtaking them. She had the distinct feeling Dent finally realized this was all just a farce to get the team to actually climb the Tower and grinned to herself. Caddy and Ricky were too stupid to understand and the Pottingers didn’t care.
It wasn’t long before they neared the top, dripping with sweat and gasping for breath.
Natalie was about to take the last few steps up when she felt someone grab at her robes, heard Dent snarl something, and she went crashing down to the steps. Caddy tripped over her with a yelp — she ducked as he tumbled down beside her, narrowly missing crushing her head.
“RICKY!” Dent was having a conniption. As Natalie rolled to her feet she saw Dent standing just behind her, glaring at Ricky Webster, who had leapt over her and stood proudly at the top. Ricky must have pulled her down to beat her to the top and Dent was flipping out about it.
“WHAT THE FUCK?” Dent yelled at Ricky while simultaneously trying to fuss and worry over Natalie, grabbing her face, shoulders, and hands to check for injuries. Natalie pushed him away and dusted her robes off, completely unharmed.
“SHE COULD HAVE GOTTEN HURT! WHAT THEN? WE WOULDN’T HAVE A SEEKER! WE HAVE A MATCH TO PLAY IN A FEW DAYS AND YOU’RE GOING AROUND ACTING LIKE A COMPLETE IDIOT!””
“I wanted to win the bet,” preened Ricky, oblivious to the frothing captain. “Now Malfoy has to shag me.”
“Malfoy’s shagging Ricky?” Leonard Cadwallader, perpetually airheaded, gaped from where he was still sprawled out on the stairs.
“No, Caddy,” Natalie just sighed, stepped over Cadwallader and up to where Ricky was flexing his muscles and trying not to look out of breath.
“Hey, beautiful-” he began to croon but Natalie drew her fist back and punched him directly in the mouth.
“OW!” he yelped and dramatically dropped to the floor as the Pottingers started snickering from where they’d sat on the stairs, stretching and catching their breath.
Dent now directed his fury on Natalie. “MALFOY!”
She turned to the team captain, innocent smile on her face as a vein throbbed in Dent’s temple.
“Yes, Eugene?”
“YOU — DON’T — DON’T CALL ME EUGENE!” he spluttered as Ricky spat out a few bloodied teeth and started moaning and lisping on the floor.
“She punched me! Me! She punched me! My face! My teeth! My gorgeous smile! I have to retire! This is it! It’s all over! We’ve lost the Cup already and we haven’t even played in the first round! My smile!”
The Pottingers snickers grew louder and Dent’s face grew redder.
“ALRIGHT!” he roared, glaring around at them all. “EVERYONE STOP HURTING EACH OTHER!”
“But nobody’s hurt?” Natalie crossed her arms and gave him an overly confused look. “What are you talking about, Eugene?”
“MALFOY!”
“Who’s Eugene?” asked Caddy, still lying on the top few stairs, sweat dampening his robes and turning his flop of brown hair a slick black.
“MY TEETH!” blubbered Ricky from the floor, upset at the lack of attention being given to him.
“SHUT UP!” Dent yelled, stomping up the last few stairs and whipping out his wand. “Stop moving, Webster, or I’ll permanently ruin your smile!”
Rolling her eyes as Ricky continued wailing, Natalie moved away from her ludicrous teammates and went to take in the view of the city. It was still dark at the early morning hour but spots of light and movement buzzed around the cosmopolitan hive of activity. Even in the blackness she could tell where the city had suffered from the Muggle war. Such a waste.
“Malfoy promised me a kiss!” Ricky’s whining had her turning back to face the team.
“Yes, and you received one,” she snapped, crossing her arms and glaring. Thanks to Dent’s quick spellwork, Webster’s smile had returned to normal. Apparently so had his ego.
Ricky looked flabbergasted. “What? No-”
“She punched you in the mouth, idiot,” grunted Dent but the captain looked somewhat impressed. Noticing this, Natalie smirked and Dent instantly morphed his face into a scowl.
Cadwallader, lying on the floor between everyone, raised a hand. “Er, so is it normal to punch someone when you kiss them too? Like, do blokes do that or is it just a witch thing-”
“It’s just a Malfoy thing,” Dent rolled his eyes.
“Yeah because she’s a bitch,” retorted Ricky, who now appeared cheated.
Natalie cooed and batted her eyelashes to excess. “That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said about me, Ricky.”
“Not true,” Ricky looked miffed. “One time I said you had nice-”
“Alright!” Dent interrupted loudly. “Who wants breakfast?”
Instantly, everyone fell silent and raised their hands.
“Brilliant. Let’s go then.” He moved towards the stairs, but Ricky dashed out ahead of him.
Sending a pointed look at Natalie, he shouted, “anyone who beats me can actually get to shag me!” and he darted off down the stairs, the Pottingers hastily moving out of his way.
Nobody else moved. Natalie began humming to herself. Dent looked like he sincerely regretted waking everyone up at four in the morning just to climb the Eiffel Tower. And Caddy, as always, gaped around, clueless.
After a few moments, a voice floated back up to them.
“Uh, hello, are you lot coming? Malfoy, don’t you want a chance to shag me?”
“Oh no,” she called back, sarcasm so heavy Dent rolled his eyes and the Pottingers fell over themselves with laughter. “How could I pass up the opportunity to shag the famous Ricky Webster?”
Cadwallader turned to gape at her. “You’re passing up that opportunity?”
“Yes, Caddy, I am,” she said, voice now sounding as if she spoke to a toddler.
“Let’s go, you lot,” growled Dent and he stomped towards the stairs. “Enough acting like children.”
“Thought you wanted us to team bond?” Natalie asked as she followed him down.
“Yes, bond — not engage in some stupid competition only to end in you nearly getting hurt and then punching Ricky in the face.”
“He needs a good sock in the face every so often. Keeps him in check.”
“As much as I agree with the theory behind that, the practice of it might be detrimental to the team overall. I need Beaters who can actually see.”
“I punched him in the mouth. And he pushed me,” she reminded him with annoyance as they began thundering down the stairs. Caddy and the Pottingers following. Going down was much easier than going up.
“And I need a Seeker who can actually catch the Snitch,” he called over his shoulder. “Don’t know why you lot are so intent on hurting each other.”
“Tell him to stop being stupid then,” she demanded, ignoring the sniggering of the Pottingers behind her. It unnerved her. They hadn’t said a word. Just laughed under their breath. She picked up the pace, flying down the stairs side-by-side with Dent now.
“What, do you actually want to shag Webster?” he remarked as she started to pass him.
“Yeah, totally,” she shot back sarcastically.
The team was silent as they descended the rest of the way. They found Ricky Webster checking his wavy blond hair and smiling at himself in a small pocket mirror which he had seemingly procured from nowhere.
“Well,” he snapped the mirror shut and tucked it away in his pocket when they arrived. “None of you beat me. Too bad, Malfoy. Last night Celeste said I was the best-”
Natalie pulled her wand out and flicked it at Ricky. His jaw clicked shut and he turned red as her spell took effect.
“Oh, lock jaw? Nice one,” muttered one of the Pottingers. Natalie whipped around to stare.
“Which of you said that?” she demanded.
“Ted,” said one.
“Tommy,” said another.
“Tucker,” said the third.
Natalie sucked in a breath, muscles taut. “What the fuck?”
“Okay,” Dent said with caution. He grabbed the sleeve of her robes and tugged her away from gawking at the Pottinger triplets. They just looked as smug and unassuming as usual. “Let’s go. . . .”
Ricky Webster, through a series of aggressive and flamboyant hand motions, convinced Dent they ought to shower before heading to breakfast. Natalie then sneered that she wanted to wash off “Essence of Pretty Ricky” which obviously tainted her when she had punched him.
To avoid another in-team conflict, Dent grudgingly agreed.
By seven o’clock, they were piled around an outside table at a French café, having ordered half the menu. It was a Muggle café, which meant they had to wear Muggle clothing and attempt to not act like a bunch of internationally renowned Quidditch players.
Natalie was not at all pleased to find out that when in public around Muggles, the official protocol was for the Quidditch team to wear Muggle football clothes and act like a professional Muggle football team. It reminded her too much of her dead Muggle football-playing father. And as if for no other purpose other than to add salt to the wound — the shirts they had been supplied with were from her father’s old team.
“See, Malfoy’s all mad and upset because she didn’t get to shag me,” remarked Ricky as he shovelled eggs into his mouth. “Should have tried harder, right Dent?”
Dent, sitting right beside Natalie, took a sip of juice and droned, “shut up, Ricky,”
“Yes, shut up, Ricky,” said Natalie testily, focused on buttering her toast and ignoring Ricky’s leer from across the table. The café was quickly filling with loud, obnoxious Muggle tourists from all over the world which annoyed her already. She did not need Ricky adding to the maelstrom. The clothing they wore was enough.
Ricky looked put out but his eyes soon landed on a pretty blonde who was walking towards the café and his fork paused halfway to his mouth. Caddy followed his gaze and nearly choked on his juice. The Pottingers immediately started snickering, scraping their plates clean.
“Wow. . . that’s the most beautiful woman in the world,” breathed Caddy, awestruck as the two watched the girl approach.
“I’ve got dibs,” said Ricky, “look at the ass on her, huh?”
“She’s walking towards us, you idiot,” Dent shook his head.
“I can tell. Ricky Webster can always tell. Blimey, she’s almost as fit as you, Malfoy.”
“Shut up,” repeated Natalie with palpable irritation. She started eating faster, knowing she’d lose her appetite if Ricky and Caddy started getting into what they liked the most about this random blonde Muggle.
“Stop eating so fast, Malfoy,” Dent, ever obsessed with her well-being, growled from beside her. “You’ll choke. Or give yourself indigestion at practice later.”
“Whatever,” Natalie grunted, mouth full of eggs.
She could feel him glaring at her. “Malfoy-”
“She’s coming here!” exclaimed Caddy, dropping his glass on the table with a loud clang that attracted the attention of several nearby Muggles.
“Caddy,” Dent hissed a warning.
“Bloody hell, she is coming here,” interrupted Ricky. He sat bolt upright and started running a hand through his hair. “I assume I look fabulous as always?”
“Yes,” said all three Pottingers at once — and this did not assure Ricky in the slightest.
“Look, look!” gasped Caddy as the blonde Muggle stepped onto the café property, smiled at the waiting host, who led her to a table inside, partially out of sight from the team. They could see just her profile from where they sat.
“Aw,” Caddy looked dejected at this turn of events.
Ricky, however, was still preening. “Right, we’ve got a bit of time before practice — I’m gonna run on in and see what she’s up to.”
Natalie, who had just taken a sip of juice, found herself spewing it all over the table, choking and coughing in astonishment because of who was now approaching the café. She’d recognize him anywhere.
“I told you, you’d choke!” snapped Dent and he started looking around to see if he could surreptitiously pull out his wand to clear her throat.
Natalie waved him off, ignoring Ricky’s complaints of disgust, eyes glued to the tall, handsome figure who walked up to the café and was also led inside by the host. She watched him swirl through the tables and take the seat hidden by a large plant at the table of the pretty blonde. The Muggle — who Natalie was beginning to suspect was not a Muggle — smiled and started coyly batting her eyelashes at Tom Riddle.