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"Oh shit," I cringed at the amount of anger present in Coach's voice, "This can't be good."

Oliver Wood, an old family friend and the extremly talented Keeper for Puddlemere United, chuckled from behind me. "What have you done this time, James?"

"Other than being bestfriends with his daughter, I have no idea," I replied with a shrug as I pushed open the changing room door.

Coach Heffer, Puddlemere United's coach,  is very protective of his daughter and hates any male who goes near her. Especially me; being her bestfriend and everything. And he's not too big on the whole 'listening to what I have to say' thing either. He doesn't even believe me when I tell him that me and Jez are just friends. Nothing more. Yeah. He's gone and got it in his head that i'm only being friendly to her so that I can seduce her and then leave her heartbroken. Which I actually have no intention of doing. I mean, c'mon. I'm James Sirius Potter. If I wanted a girl then I could quite easily get her without so much trouble. Unfortuantly for me, Coach Heifer is pretty much ready to throttle me every time i'm near his precious little Giselle and likes to use Quidditch as his way of doing so.

"Yes, Coach?" I asked with a sigh as I walked over towards where he was standing. He stood at least a few inches shorter than me with a slightly rounded stomach and podgy arms which he had crossed over his chest in what appeared to me a 'no nonsense' manner. His dark hair was greying along the sides and he had stern frown lines on his forhead that matched his frown perfectly. Seriously though, this guy is the life and soul of the party. You can tell, right?

Please, dear merlin, note the sarcasm there...

"What is this?" he pointed to the watch on his wrist whilst scowling in my direction.

I rolled my eyes. "It's a watch, Coach."

"I know what it is," he snapped.

"Then I don't understand what's wrong," I stated plainly as I gave a curious look over my shoulder at Oliver who just shrugged at me and then continued with getting changed.

"You're late," Coach pointed out with a glare, "we had a team meeting this morning and you missed it."

Staring at him, I tried to remember when he had told me that there would be a team meeting this morning. "I don't remember anyone saying anything about it," I admitted.

"That's because it was mentioned at the last team meeting," Coach retorted sharply, "the last one that you forgot to turn up to."


Coach whacked me round the head with the broomstick that he had been holding and then shoved it at my chest while I rubbed the sore spot on the side of my head. Taking the broom from his hands, I glared at him and turned on the spot so that I could storm away from him, not really caring if he was finished with what he had to say or not.

"And where was my daughter last night?"

I stopped short and turned back around to face him. "She was at the annual party," I answered simply.

"After that," he growled, waiting for me to confirm what he obviously already knew.

"She helped me home," I shrugged before I started walking away from him again, "I was too drunk to remember much about it."

Before I even had a chance to register what was happening, Coach had stormed up to me and pinned me to the changing room wall closest to us. I stared at him in disbelief as he held me in place with a strength that I would never have believed he possessed.

"If you lay so much as one finger on her-"

"Daddy!" Jez's squeek of protest was followed by her pulling her father away from me and placing herself between us. She was wearing her Holyhead Harpies uniform and so I assumed that she had just come back from her own training and had decided to check in on us, knowing just how badly the two of us got along with each other.

Coach glared at me and I returned the same piercing look as Jez glanced from her father to me and then back again. "What the hell is going on here?" she demanded in a tone that told us not to even bother trying to think of an excuse. Not that I would try to protect her father anyway. The guy is quite clearly a jerk.

"I don't want him touching you," Coach stated as his gaze softened on his daughter.

"I'm not a baby," she retorted sternly as she pegged him with a glare of her own, "and there was certainly no need to pin James against the wall. We're just friends, daddy."

"Just friends my ass," he spat, "boys and girls cannot be 'just friends', Giselle."

"No," she agreed, "but men and women can be just friends" she then looked over at me, "are you alright, James?"

I glared at her father one last time before turning and making my way out of the changing rooms, "Just peachy," I called back angrilly from over my shoulder without bothering to look back at the pair of them.

"You're such an idiot," I heard Jez tell her father before she ran to catch up with me as I continued to storm across the field with my broom gripped tightly at my side, "James!"

I ignored her as I reached the center of the pitch, below where the rest of the team were already flying around and trying out new routines for the coming match.

"James, please," Jez said softly as she placed a hand on my back which succeeded in stopping me in my tracks, "He was in the wrong, you and I both know that. But he's still my dad and I can understand why he acts like he does. I'm all he has left in the world, James."

I turned swiftly on the spot and glared at her. We were just repeating the same lines over and over again now. It always happened like this: Her father would get wound up and lash out at me - both verbally and physically - but Jez always managed to stop it before it went too far. She'd then say, 'I'm all he has left in the world' and expect me to just forgive everything. Which, up until now, I had done without much complaint.

But right now, i'm far too pissed to do the right thing and so settled for ignoring her and how pretty she looked staring up at me with the wind blowing strands of dark hair around her face.

"Please, James," she repeated, "forgive him. For me?"

I snorted loudly. "Fuck that," I growled harshly at her, "he can come and grovel at my feet for all I care and I will never forgive that son of a-"

"James!" she scolded quickly before I had a chance to finish what I was saying.

"It doesn't matter anyway," I continued, ignoring her scolding, "he'll only do it again in a couple weeks time and then what? 'Forgive him, James. He doesn't mean it. I'm all he has left. Blah, blah, blah,'" I mocked spitefully as I turned away from her so that I could mount my broom.

"What are you saying?" she yelled angrily at me as I kicked off from the ground, "That you're willing to throw our friendship away just because you don't get along with my dad?"

"Pretty much," I replied dryly as I began to speed off away from her.

"Argh!" she screamed from behind me, obviously just as pissed off as I was, "Fine! I detest you right now, James-freaking-Potter!"

I stopped in mid-air and turned my head slightly so that I could glare at her from over my shoulder. "Ditto, Giselle-fucking-Heffer," I retorted in a dry tone. Then, ignoring the mixed look of hurt and hatred that flamed on her pretty little face, I turned back around and sped up to join my team mates where they were busy speeding around the pitch high up in the air.

"Oi, Potter," Coach growled at me after I had showered and changed from practice, "Outside, now."

Without argument, I followed him outside so that he could say whatever the hell he wanted and get it over with.

"You're going on a break," he stated in a dry tone as I folded my arms over my chest and glared at him, "and before you say anything; this isn't a personal thing," at my disbelieving look, he added, "You haven't been performing to the best of your abilities and the team and I have all agreed that a break is what you need."

"I don't need to go on a break," I ground out in reply, "I'm doing fine out there on the pitch."

"Fine isn't good enough, Potter," Coach scolded harshly as he gave me a slow one over, "You look like a mess, your turns are sloppy and your dives need improving. How the hell are we supposed to win when the best you can do is 'fine'? The team needs better than that if we ever want to win another match with you as our seeker."

I scowled at him but thought over what he was saying. It was true what he was saying; my flying is getting crappier by the day. "Fine," I agreed stubbornly, "I'll go on the break on one condition,"

Coach's face dropped into a frown as he gave me a curious look. "Which is?" he probed hesitantly.

"I want you to stop bothering me about your daughter," at the fierce glare I recieved, I elaborated my bargain, "me and her aren't friends anymore and I don't want to hear anything more about her."

Folding his arms over his chest, Coach gave me a questioning glance. "That's a bit hard seen as i'm her father, isn't it boy?"

I clenched my fists at my side and ground my teeth at the reminder. "Exactly why I ask you not to mention her to me anymore," I replied as I un-clenched my fist and stared him in the eye. "Do we have a deal?" I held out my hand for him to take.

Grabbing hold of my offered hand in his own, Coach gave it a firm shake before letting go and nodding slightly. "We have a deal. Now," he looked to the changing room door and back at me again, "grab your stuff and get out of my sight." Without another word, he stormed away from me so that I could collect my belongings in peace before leaving to return home.

"It's not her fault that her father's an idiot," Lily said, twirling her quill around in her hand as she considered what she should write in reply to Lorcan Scamander's letter.

"Coach isn't an idiot," I reminded her in a sharp tone whilst I sat on the sofa and angrily flipped through the pages of a Quidditch magazine, "he's a complete twat."

"Is his name really Coach?" Al asked thoughtfully from beside me on the sofa where he sent a curious look my way.

Shaking my head, I answer his question with a small wave of my hand as if brushing the question aside like it's nothing important. "No, it's Bob."

"Bob?" Al repeats, trying out the name as if it's something that he's never heard before.

"You liar," Lily giggles, looking up from her parchment, "he's not called Bob."

Albus looks shocked as he glances between me and Lily. "Why would you tell me that his name is Bob if it's not?"

"Because I don't know his real name and he reminds me of a bobble head toy," I reply simply as I chuck the magazine aside and stare at him with a smirk.

"Oh, har har. You're hilarious, James," he retorts dryly with a roll of his eyes before glancing towards Lily for a proper answer, "what's his real name then, Lils?"

"Mike," she answers without looking up from her parchment as she scribbles something down, "Jez told me one time when we were talking about how annoying parents can be. Mike Heffer is his name but everyone just calls him 'Coach'," she then looked up to flash a slightly dimpled smile at Al, "even people who aren't on his team know him as 'Coach'. I doubt many people even know his real name."

"Maybe I should think of a cool nickname to be known as," Albus considered as he looked around the room for what I assumed to be inspiration, "what about 'Coolio' or 'Auror-man'?"

I snorted at his lame ass suggestions. "What about 'twatio' or even better, 'prick-man'?"

Albus rolled his eyes at me and punched me in the arm. "You're such a prat," he commented.

"You already have a nickname, Al," Lily stated quietly as she stood up with her parchment and quill in hand and made her way towards the door.

"Al is just a shortened version of Albus, Lils," Al corrected as he stood up to follow her out of the room.

"It's still the same sort of thing," Lily said as they made their way towards the stairs.

I could still hear Al's muffled protest of, "It's a totally different thing," which was followed by an even more muffled, "Hey! We could call James 'Jay-boy'," as they dissapeared up the stairs.

"Try it and die!" I yelled up after them as I made my way out of the living room and walked towards the stairs so that I could head up to my bedroom for a nap.

I caught a glimpse of Albus and heard him chuckle as he quickly darted into his bedroom and out of my sight before I could give him beatings for even suggesting that horribly cheesy nickname.

With a small smile and a slight shake of my head, I started up the stairs and towards my bedroom. As I approached my bedroom door, I decided that the first night of my break would be celebrated by going straight to the pub. I yawned loudly as I pushed open my bedroom door and stared at my comfy un-made bed.

But first... time for that nap.

Author's note: Okay. So I know that this chapter is out a little bit later than I said it would be but i've sort of broken my laptop and so i'm trying not to use it too much in case it gets even worse. I haven't yet started writing the next chapter (which will be where we see a little bit of Rose/Scorpius and another slightly drunk James) but will try to start it asap so that should, hopefully, be up soon-ish.

Thankyou's: I'd now like to thank everyone who has reviewed the previous chapters. You lot are amazing and I loved seeing what you guys had to say about my story! So yeah, a big thankyou to all of you :)

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