[gravesend] midnight shift. [tag; harlan]

Why was this country always so cold?

Angrily, Charlotte stomped the chunky heels of her boots against the ground in a futile attempt to try and generate some heat. This wasn't Continental cold, this was proper British cold. Damp and heavy, like it would seep into her very  bones if she let it. It was bitter as the frigid wind found gaps in her woollen hat and flapped at her long dark hair. It was only early afternoon but the sky was heavily laden with snow, looking more black than grey, as it threatened another dumping.

Anxiously, she checked her watch and was dismayed to see that her reporter was late. Charlotte had been covering the European games and freelancing for other magazines in the gaps between the British league. She'd hot-footed it back to Paris for work because she didn't think there was any need for her to be there in the interim. The beauty of her job was that she could pretty much do it anywhere - anywhere away from him.

"Come on, come on, come on," she repeated over and over like a mantra, tightening the belt of her coat before she blew on her nearly frozen fingers. Her replacement was a nice guy. He was called Daniel James. He was around her age and eager to please, bouncing around the office like a puppy in his need to impress. He was a good writer, a strong writer, but he lacked the certain pizazz that made him a great writer.

Dealing with Quidditch players (whom she tended to think were overpaid overgrown teenagers) was a honed skill that Daniel had not mastered just yet. Charlotte knew when to press and when to release, treading that fine line to get what she wanted. She'd been missing in action for a little over six months. She was willing to bet that the Griffins were counting their lucky stars.

It was a pig of a day. While the wind wasn't blustery, it was entirely unpleasant. The remainder of the snow on the ground had now frozen over, leaving spots of black ice on the floor. She continued to pace and the more time that ticked by the more frustrated she grew.

The team was doing pretty well with topping the current league standings and tying for first with the Falcons. If she was being honest, she hadn't really been following the Griffins' progress thus far. It was entirely Charlotte's fault, of course. It was just more work now that she was back in the pack. Plus, she was a Wasps' fan.  Her latest article about Alannah Dupont had been published and it had been and entire week without a howler being mailed to her at the paper. She smelled a rat.

Lottie was currently lurking around the back of the stadium, waiting for Daniel as she scowled at the sky. When she saw him, she would have to remind him about his timekeeping abilities. After a press conference or a meeting, journalists usually only got a handful of minutes to ask questions but Danny boy had gone over his allotted time. Maybe one of the Beaters had tried to flush his head down the  toilet. It would make sense.

As if the universe had heard her plea, the door had been pushed open and ricocheted off the wall with a bang! She flinched. "For crying out loud, Danny," she reprimanded him, breathless. "Did you have to wreck the gaff in the process or --" But the intruder on her solitude was not Daniel. Her heart dropped quicker than her resolve did six months ago and the smile slipped from her face as her heart began to race but for a very different reason. "Oh merde."



@Harlan Bellamy

Harlan's career had notoriously been filled with its ups and downs, as of late though, more than ever.

His captainship had come into question after a particularly poor season rife with loss and surrounded by bad press, but the real icing on the cake was his attempt at breaking into the national league at the World Cup in Brazil. After that dismal performance, he'd resigned to the fact that he had plateaued in his career, even seriously contemplating what stake had left in the game at all. He was older than the average player and the toll the years had taken on his body, he assumed, had finally caught up to him. 

Harlan decided that as his final act as captain, he would put together a team that he felt confident in leaving behind. The trades for the upcoming season had left the team down a few players and while he couldn't make the final decision around who would fill those spots, his opinion held weight with the upper management and he got exactly what he wanted.

The new blood on the team, though reckless as a whole, had the drive that his team had been lacking. It was easy for veterans in the sport to rest on their previous success', but the rookies were a whole different kind of breed. They had nothing lose and everything to gain at the start of their careers. It was infectious.

Even Harlan had been inspired by it. So much so, that his plan to bow out from the industry quietly had been pushed to the backburner entirely, awaiting the next dip in serotonin levels. The season had been one of the strongest. They had their kinks to work out as they discovered how to work together, but as a whole, they had found their sweet spot as a team.

More success equaled more press and given their position as tied for first place in the league, there was always some interview or event on the agenda, much to Harlan's disdain. Even though it was far easier to stomach the whole thing when your team was actually doing well, it still didn't sit right with him. The moment the latest press conference ended, he was out the door, the one in the back that he knew would save him any additional interviews in front of the stadium.

Danny? Steel eyes snapped from the ground to where the voice had come from, surprised to see a familiar face. This was certainly unexpected. Charlotte Bright. He hadn't seen her -- well, for some time, and he could have done with just a bit more. Instinctively he half-turned back to the door before remembering that of course, it locked from the outside.

"Miss Bright," He shifted back to face her with a stiff smile, a bandaged hand running through his hair. He was dressed up, more so than usual, though his duffel bag was still strapped across his chest and filled with practice gear. "Danny left ages ago..." Harlan shrugged with a tone of mischief in his voice. "Far less persistent than you, your replacement," He shifted the bag on his shoulder nonchalantly. "Someone must've told him the press conference was canceled," He couldn't take the credit for that one though, that was all Alannah.

As he addressed her, her smile was a second too late. There was an absence of expression on her pretty face, somewhere between shock, horror and woe-is-me. Catching herself just in time, Charlotte plastered a smile to her face. "Mr. Bellamy," she responded, stooping into a low and decidedly mocking sweeping bow, "Always a pleasure," she lied. "And why are you sneaking out the back door?" She asked, her eyes flicking to the bandage on his hand and momentarily fearing for Danny's safety.

Danny left ages ago.

Her head snapped upwards. "What?" She barked, her bright eyes narrowing on Harlan's figure. "So, you're saying that I've been stood outside for an hour, freezing my tits off," she began to rant, turning on the heels of her boots and pacing the ground like a caged animal. "And he's buggered off home without telling me?" She squeaked, stopping to face him quickly. Though in all fairness, men leaving without telling her wasn't something new.

"Fantastic," Charlotte grumbled as she paced again, his comment earning him a short derisive snort. "He's too soft," she complained, shoving her hands into her coat pockets angrily. "Anyway, I thought you'd be glad," she added, shooting him a look. Charlotte wasn't stupid. She knew Harlan's manager called her "Light Bulb". It was stupid, really. Her surname was Bright. She thought it was cute, until she realised he was using it as a derogatory term. The Griffins were having an easy ride without her. She doubted any one of them actually missed her.

Ah. The press conference was cancelled. "Did someone swing for a reporter again?" Charlotte asked, looking bored but she was determined not to meet his eye. She was embarrassed. She was transported back ten years where she'd been sneaking around, kissing boys and pretending she had the flu so she could sleep her hangover off without arousing her mother's suspicions.

She didn't have anything to say to him. There wasn't really anything to be ashamed of, anyway. They were adults and they'd gotten carried away; it happened.

"Why are you all dressed up?" Charlotte blurted out. Knowing Harlan's schedule had been part of her job and she used to know so much about him, she could be a better PA than his actual PA. Now though, he was practically a free agent. Like himself, Charlotte could easily have gone another few months without crossing his path. Falling silent, she frowned at him. She felt very out of place, stood out here in the freezing cold, circling a man that she didn't even like but was somehow desperate for his attention and approval.

He'd put her in a difficult position. They weren't friends, they weren't co-workers, they certainly weren't lovers, they were just...orbiting one another. "None of my business," Charlotte added hastily as she held her up, palms outwards, in a non-threatening gesture.