Mia McCarthy

Take A Break

Never in a million years would Julian ever not miss a real match with real players and real cheering from the stands. His own memories of them were already distorted as he replayed them over and over again. He wondered if Mia ever regretted actually hurting anyone—but he wasn’t about to be the one to tell her the truth of what happened in that last match. But that was just part of the game.

Maybe it takes a degree of heartlessness to be a beater. They had just as much weaving to do as everyone else, but no one to keep track of but themselves.

Julian snorted at her offer, though he only considered it for a second—this meant that he was the one limiting how much was actually getting consumed. “Both you and I know that’s a terrible bet. These aren’t even moving targets—and you don’t have a keeper in your way of them.”

Not that Julian was going to volunteer to be the one in the way of anything between what was coming from her bat and the target. Instead he swiftly shot upwards to get a better view, having to be the one to, somewhat ironically, chase after the bludger once it met the target.

Julian wasn’t sure what he had said or done that made her put on her game face. “And I thought you didn’t want to practice today?”

-

“Fine, is there something else we can bet on? I’m not feeling like paying for drinks tonight,” Mia said. Although, to be fair, she rarely paid. There was usually some guy around who wanted to buy her drinks and chat her up. Either that or some fan that wanted to thank her for knocking out some player on another team the week beforehand. 

Mia bit her lip when he asked the question. “You’re the one that questioned how hard I work,” She said simply. 

People didn’t get to be professional beaters without hard work. And Mia knew that Julian knew that. But she always had an edge about her when it came to proving herself. She was the youngest of 4 kids, all of whom were boys. She was the foreign kid who moved to England. She was the petite girl beater. All of that went into proving herself. But quidditch gave her that chance, to show how good she was, and to make others take her seriously. 

She sighed deeply before saying, “I just know a lot of people don’t take me or what I do seriously. I work my ass off, Julian, and I’m good,” Mia said the last word with determination. “But sometimes I also want to be the young person I am and go get drunk at a pub.”

Take A Break

–

There were so few people in the wizarding world, and even fewer within the Quidditch League, that there almost seemed to be no secrets. The gossip columns in the Prophet was a testament to news that was never really new, a scattering of he-said-she-said that Julian didn’t care enough about to keep himself updated on. Quidditch was such a spectator sport both on and off the pitch that it would be impossible to say that Julian himself had never been written about, but he liked his social life quiet—so he didn’t graze his name with as much frequency as someone like his brother.

She was competitive but she had an appreciation for talent (or whatever Julian was before retirement, so, you know, talented). But Julian didn’t know what Mia was like off the pitch. “I personally don’t have anything to lose, so I suppose getting hit a risk I’m willing to take. And I didn’t say we couldn’t go, I’m saying we can go after practice. Has no one ever told you that you had to work for something?”

It was a joke; she was a Quidditch player. He shouldn’t have to lecture her on hard work, goal setting, and whatever other inspirational garbage that came out of every pre-game speech. His own brother was willing to train though whether or not they actually agreed on what needed to be worked on was another question.

Julian let the ball fly in her direction, though like he had said before—he wasn’t the one who needed good aim. It had gone wide and he felt himself fall back to get out of her way.

-

Mia laughed, “I’d only really try to hit you if we were in a match. And as I recall, you know just how much my bludgers hurt.” She recalled having sent a few bludgers his way when he was still in the league. 

“How about if I knock all the targets down without missing a single one, you buy. If I miss any, I’ll buy,” She proposed. Even though she was a professional quidditch player that made more than enough money, her family always taught her to be careful with spending. But even so, she was a betting woman, and she knew to bet on herself. Might as well get a few free drinks out of it. 

Her jaw locked a little when he mentioned working hard. That was something she didn’t take lightly, even jokingly. They were the only ones out on the pitch for a reason, she practiced her ass off. She pushed her body to the limit. All trying to win, to prove how good she was. 

“I’ll show you hard,” Mia cried out through gritted teeth, swinging her bat and a crack reverberated through the stadium as the bludger made contact. It went flying through the air before knocking over the first target.

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-

He shifted uncomfortably On the balls of his feet, and scratched the back of his neck. He wasn’t used to these kinds of conversations. And certainly not with someone whose respect he needed desperately. Not that emotions would negate respect, it’s just that the image he fought so hard to show the world, certainly wasn’t one that openly worried about the safety of his loved ones. wasn’t it embarrassing enough that he was constantly stuck on the sidelines? Trapped there by his own brain, by his own body.

But, instead of voicing all of this concerns, he smiled and he nodded. He kept quiet, bowed his head, looked appreciative. He did all of the things that someone in his position would be expected to do. He hoped he was doing the right thing. Listening, being grateful, not showing too much fear. But with that said, he had no idea what the right thing to do was. What is the protocol when the only peopleyou love are being threatened?

“Thank you, Mia,” he started. That was a good place to start. He shrugged. He had no idea what he was going to do. Didn’t even know how to accept that he had to do something. “Honestly? Not a clue,” he admitted. “Just… whatever I need to to keep ‘em safe. What would you do if you were me? Siince you’ve got me beat on the Pitch, you’ve probably go one up on me here, too.”

-

“Of course,” Mia responded. Sorry still didn’t seem like enough. But what else was she going to say? Man, you’re being threatened in the Daily Prophet along with your siblings? That sucks. There wasn’t really a proper answer, so sorry had to cut it for now. 

She nodded when he said he had no idea what to do. She would have no idea what to do in his position either. Especially since he was the oldest sibling. Mia was the youngest, so she was used to her brothers protecting her, not the other way around. Plus, he had Arlo, she hadn’t even properly dated someone. 

“Me?” She questioned, wondering what she could possibly say. “Besides, I’ve only got you beat on the pitch cause it’s my job to hit people,” Mia said, trying to lighten the mood. 

She shifted her weight back and forth from her right to left foot, staring out the corner of her eye, just trying to come up with something. “I think I’d just try and find a safe place...didn’t they mention your flat? Maybe going somewhere else for a while could be a good idea.” 

Ethan was quick to oblige, lifting his arms up and over his head allowing Mia to remove his shirt. As she inspected his chest for any of the bludger related scars in question, Ethan bit down on his lower lip suppressing the eye roll that threatened to follow. All the chaser could see was his impeccably toned abs still managing to glisten in the dim lighting of her flat, and he cocked his head to the side shamelessly. 

“Yeah, where? I reckon you— ” Ethan tried but that was all he could muster before Mia had other ideas. His smug expression was wiped clean off from jawline replaced with a rabid shot of adrenaline that began to course through his body. Merlin, he was loving his. 

Fueled his their back and forth, Ethan stepped forward and caught Mia in his arms rather effortlessly, thanks to years and years of quidditch training and back to back working sessions. With that, he pressed his lips to hers once more backing them up against the nearest piece of furniture he could find and settled Mia on top of it.

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-

“Auror training, for sure not Quidditch” joked “As much as I love it It will better for me staying on the ground” laughed after her own comment “Oh, I stayed in New York, It was a little apartment but It was so cosy” chuckled as she remembered that experience.

“I think my travels are done for now” smiled “It feels like London has changed a lot while I was out” chuckled “But I have to say that If I get a mission away I wouldn’t deny it” said imagining that future situation.

“No problem” Leah said back. “Yeah and yeah” smiled “You have a good memory” chuckled.

.

“Auror training? That’s awesome. Must keep you on your toes.” Mia smiled when the girl brought up New York. She missed America a lot, it was her first home. Even though she grew up in Boston, she remembered the trips to New York growing up. Her parents would sometimes take her out to see a muggle show, and her brothers would grumble through the whole thing.

“London seems like it’s always changing, especially for such an old city.” MIa sighed while they talked about traveling, “That’s the good thing about your job, I guess. I think it’d be harder for me, even though they have quidditch all over.”

She shrugged, “I’ve been told that before.”

.

Nikoleta had meant to stop by Wiseacre’s Wizarding Equipment to pick up a new telescope for her personal collection, though she had been distracted by several shops on her way there. She blinked when she was spoken to, turning to face the witch who had asked for her opinion. She looked her over for a moment before smiling.

“You look positively charming! The color certainly brings out your eyes.”

.

Mia smiled at the woman’s kind words, “Thank you.”

She turned back to the mirror, examining the hat, “I usually don’t wear hats, I think my head is too big for them.” She laughed, “But this one might actually be okay.”

With just his eyes, Ethan glanced down at Mia’s fingers as they dancing across his chest, an odd sense of pride coursing through his veins. The more she taunted him, the more it fueled him. “Psssh. As far as I’m concerned this ass is the UK’s ass, and we’d just be showing our loyalty.” The chaser teased, never one to miss an opportunity to brag about his ass-ets. 

Next, Ethan did something practically foreign to him: exactly everything he was supposed to. He followed Mia towards her flat, keeping a few steps behind while he shamelessly enjoyed view. This wouldn’t the the first time he had been to Mia’s place, especially under these circumstances and he was sure as hell going to enjoy every single second of it.  

Challenge still fresh and the message read loud and clear, the chaser waste no more time, barely squeezing through the unlocked door before accepting her request. He wrapped his arms around Mia’s waist, pulling her in towards him as he closed any distance that dared linger between them. Then, Ethan went in for the kill, his lips meeting hers.

“Why don’t you have a look for yourself, McCarthy.” he pulled his lips away just enough, smirking widely. 

-

Her skin felt like it was on fire when he wrapped his arms around her waist. His forearms touching the bare skin between her black jeans and white crop top. She wrapped her own arms around the back of his neck, almost having to stand on her tip toes to do so. Mia loved this moment, right before she kissed someone. All of it hanging in the air. The feeling of giving anything for them to kiss her. 

Luckily for her, she didn’t have to wait as Ethan leaned down to kiss her. It was slow for a moment, but quickly she sped up the pace. One of her hands snaked its way into his hair, the other pressed against the back of his neck, just wanting him to kiss her life his life depended on it. 

When he broke away after a moment, Mia could feel her lips already being a bit swollen. She grinned, taking a step back as her fingers played with the hem of his shirt, “Maybe I will, Wood.” Mia tugged the shirt over his head, revealing his gorgeous body.

“Ah there it is,” Mia grinned, her fingers grazing his abs. “If only you could dodge my bludgers, maybe you’d have a chance at winning against me, Wood.” She knew exactly what she was doing, knowing that insulting his quidditch skills would make what was about to happen that much more intense. 

Before he had a chance to respond, Mia’s lips met Ethan’s again, as a means of shutting up whatever retort was sure to come out of his mouth. Just for good measure, she jumped into the air a bit, knowing he would catch her. As the short one in the kiss, Mia wanted to avoid her neck aching tomorrow.

-

“Don’t worry” chuckled “I know it can sound a little ridiculous” said Leah recognising that she talking to a stranger about her relationship with her cat was a little strange. “Oh, I’m sorry,” said after hearing Mia’s dog story.

“Yeah, I spent a year there because of my training” smiled Leah as the blonde girl asked about her stance in America “Oh that should be scary at first for sure” said Leah looking at the girl “But, well as I can see you adapted pretty good” smiled Leah.

When Leah heard she played for the Slytherin Quidditch team she remembered seeing her in the corridors. “Oh, I can remember, you were so good” smiled “Oh, and you are” chuckled.

“Training for what?” Mia asked. “And where were you?” 

She shrugged when the girl mentioned fear with moving. While it had been hard moving to a new continent at a young age, Mia didn’t know any different. It all had happened rather quickly too. Her father got a reassignment and within a month they were in a new house in London. “I don’t like to stay very still anyways.” It was true, while Mia loved playing for Puddlemere, sometimes she thought of running off to join a team in South America or something. But she couldn’t leave the British league, at least not yet.

“Thanks,” She smiled, always in a better mood when people complimented her quidditch skills. “You were in Gryffindor, yeah? Just a few years below me?” Mia asked as she remembered seeing the girl around the castle.

The Off Day

“Oh no,” Beatrice sighed, annoyed now, though no less monotone. She was exhausted; a stranger somehow had pulled the trigger on a loaded gun and Marius again became present—though in such a miserable wretched way that made Beatrice freeze. “How pathetic is it that you need a bat to assault a total stranger?”

She wrung her hands; the wedding ring felt a little loose on her finger no matter how she tried to adjust it. This other woman had volunteered information that Beatrice hadn’t asked for, but Beatrice hadn’t yet recovered from the anxiety attack caused by the mention of her husband with such a disparaging tone. There was still a moment to think—to think about which curse and what consequences there may be. It was something to focus on that wasn’t the ice that hadn’t melted away—rather, it crept glacially within her insides.

“Whoever he may be,” Beatrice insisted, ignoring her attitude about men. That body wasn’t going to last forever, but Beatrice didn’t need to state that out loud. And if her personality was any indication of how well she treated anyone else, Beatrice was beginning to think that it would be useful for someone like her to lose something as precious to her as Marius had been to Beatrice. “I certainly hope that they don’t see the person who asked for a widow’s opinion, then upon deciding that they didn’t like that opinion, spent the last fifteen minutes insulting her dead husband.”

-

“It’s not pathetic when it’s my job description,” Mia said angrily. Quidditch was something that was never taken lightly with her. She had worked her ass off to get where she was today. Sure, some of it was just talent, but she was one of the smallest beaters in recent history, and that made it extra hard for her to get a position. For her to get respect, as well. Mia made the Slytherin team her second year. She was captain in her 7th year. She was scouted and she was now a beater on a professional quidditch team. And she was not going to let a decade of accomplishments be dismissed by some random lady in a shop. “Judging my stats, my awards, and my bank account, I’m pretty damn good at it.”

Her voice had a bite to it, showing she wasn’t going to back down. Then the other woman had said...that. Mia didn’t know what to say. Obviously, she hadn’t known. The woman was still wearing a wedding ring. But after another moment, she thought, no, having someone be dead isn’t an excuse to insult people. 

“Listen, I’m sorry your husband died,” Mia said, genuinely meaning it. Not that she ever got close enough to men for that to happen, but she couldn’t imagine if it did. “But you don’t get to come in here and insult me, what I do for a living, how I dress, and my romance life. Grow up.”

One of Ethan’s infamous crooked smirks snaked to edges of his his jawline as the blonde tightened the gap between them. Textbook, of course. On or off the pitch, a fair amount of strategy was always involved in this wicked little game of theirs. Snide remarks and backhanded digs. Shit eating grins and too close for comfort taunts. If anything it fueled Ethan, and he sure as hell reveled in it. 

“And when has that ever stopped us before?” Ethan mused, half kidding and half serious. Under the right circumstances, the chaser could have gotten down and dirty right then and there, but he wasn’t that knackered and he did have a rep to protect. Then again, there was that one time on the pitch… 

It was an undeniable tension that seemed to pull them together in their 7th year, one that the chaser couldn’t seem to shake even all these years later. He couldn’t tell you how the hell it happened or why. Just that one second Mia was annoying the shit out of him, arguing over the training session he had clearly booked first, and the next they are shagging. It was infuriating and at the same time exhilarating and besides, Mia was hot. Ethan would never deny her that. 

“By all means, McCarthy,” He cocked his head to the side gesturing towards the empty street. “Lead the way.”

-

Her head had to tilt upwards as she closed the space between them. Mia wasn’t exactly tall, just 5′2″. She was used to craning her neck to look up at people and usually didn’t like it. Being short made her feel like people underestimated her, especially as a beater. But in this playful banter with Ethan, she liked it. His smirk was enough to make her feel on fire and she could hardly wait until they were off the streets.

Mia grinned because when he said it like that, she could do it right there. Even if there was no one else on the street, they were both professional quidditch players, and if someone saw, they’d be bound to recognize them. While she didn’t care who knew about her sex life, she could only imagine what would happen if something like that went public. Her brothers would go ballistic. She put her hand on his chest and said, “As amazing as that sounds, I don’t think your ass is quite in the best condition to be plastered all over the Prophet.” 

While she couldn’t stand Ethan on the pitch and thought he was arrogant and annoying among other things, she didn’t want to deny herself the pleasure of his...company. He had just as many suitors as she did, and for good reason. Ever since their seventh year, and the memories of that first time together, Ethan had been a weak spot for her. 

She bit her lip and started walking in front of him, making sure her hips swayed a little extra so he would notice her butt more. After only a minute or two, they had walked up to her flat in a building close to where they had bumped into each other. 

“Home sweet home,” Mia said, unlocking the door to her flat and walking in. She didn’t feel the need to say anything else, seeing as Ethan had been over for a few of their sessions before. After the door was closed and without missing a beat, she said, “Now about that scar...”

Take A Break

“Nope! Like I said, I’m not going to be a distraction—you wanted to practice, then you’re getting your practice!” Getting drunk wasn’t Julian’s idea of a good time, especially not after Daphne’s birthday party. He was perfectly fine with being a bore; it wouldn’t be the first time someone thought of him as that. “I’m not the one cleaning up after all the fun involved.”

There was no such thing as the greatest Quidditch player who ever lived. Comparing quaffles to bludgers made no sense. Julian immediately turned at the mention of healers, tearing his eyes away as he mounted his broom and lifted himself into the air. The novelty of a new piece of equipment hadn’t yet worn off, but there was so much power in a beater’s bat that made Julian grateful that it wasn’t his job to actually hurt people.

He called back to her from the far side of the pitch, making a swift hairpin turn. Julian’s broom skills were still on par, thank Merlin—he wasn’t sure how he would survive without flying. He just wished there wasn’t so much interference between him, the broom, and the quaffle when the crowd roared or the referee blew his whistle. His own magic had changed.

“Okay, let me make myself clear.” Julian called, getting himself into position. “I am not the right target. And I’m not the one who needs to have the better aim of the two of us.”

-

Mia frowned when he didn’t easily give into her flirty banter. She was used to boys always falling at her feet. They saw the hot young quidditch star who could throw back shots and only wanted a night in bed with them, and that’s all they ever needed. So when Julian declined her off for a drink, it was a new feeling. One she did not like. 

Maybe he knows about Ethan and I, she thought to herself, then quickly dismissed it. From what she knew of him, Ethan wasn’t the type to talk about that stuff with his brother. Plus, she had brothers and they didn’t talk about random hookups with each other. Even if Ethan and her had been hooking up since they were 7th years. So if not Ethan, then why didn’t he want to grab a drink with her?

She watched him kick off from the ground and soar into the sky, so begrudgingly she did the same. The first kick off of the day was always sweet, the first feeling of the air pushing her hair back as she swirled through the air. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Mia cried out to him, as she flew into position. She could see the targets she had set up before, ready to get blown down with a properly aimed bludger. “You wouldn’t need to be afraid of being the target if you’d only agreed to get a drink! But c’mon, send me one.” She twirled her bat at the ready.

At Mia’s joke, James chuckled, pushing a hand through his hair. “Ah, then I’m doing my job,” he commented, wondering where the conversation was going. He loved each and every one of his players, had a very specific dynamic with each of them, and cherished those. But Mia had, perhaps, been the last person he was expecting to check on him. But then, wasn’t that the question of the day? Wasn’t it on everyone’s mind? James may have been broken, but he rarely showed it. He’d gotten so good at hiding the pain that it was unrecognizable to anyone other than those closest to him. Surely it was out of Mia’s ordinary to see him off his game. 

So he offered a small smile, plopping the clipboard down on the counter with a shrug. “Y’know, I love being the center of attention, but I’d be happy to pass this spotlight on if I could,” he said, sighing a bit as he searched for the right answer. He didn’t want to lie, but being truthful would be far too vulnerable for him. “I’m doin’ alright,” he finally decided on. “Wouldn’t bother me for a second if it was just my name on that list. But, uh… Lils and Alb, and Arlo… kinda makes it a different game, y’know?” 

-

Mia shook her head, her blonde waves sticking to the side of her sweaty face. She usually went straight to the showers after practice, but figured this was a good time to catch James alone. She didn’t like having these types of interactions in front of lots of people. Couldn’t tarnish her reputation as the resident badass who enjoyed when she gave someone a broken arm on the pitch. But she really liked having James as a coach. They weren’t far apart year-wise at Hogwarts and it gave her a little sense of that on Puddlemere. 

She nodded as he spoke, leaning against the wall. She couldn’t imagine something like that happening to her family. They weren’t an extraordinary family. Her father was an auror and her mother was a journalist, nothing exciting. The most extraordinary thing that ever happened to them before she started Hogwarts was when they moved to England. 

“I’m sorry, James,” Mia said softly. “I’m sure everyone else has said it and it doesn’t help, but I am sorry. I can’t imagine what it was like if my brothers got threatened.” Even though she was the youngest and had three older brothers who were all overprotective, Mia would do anything for them. “And yeah, Arlo.” She had never loved someone enough to protect them like she did her family. “Do you know what you’re gonna do?”

Finley knew that feeling all to well. During practice and games he never really felt his injuries - he was often running on pure adrenaline. But, like many of the other players, once that high wore off, bruises would appear and his limbs would ache. “I don’t miss that. You know alcohol isn’t a good solution though-” he caught himself saying this and chuckled raising his hands in surrender before she could even saying anything, “-I’m not your captain anymore though. Do as you please Mia.”

“Oh no, not running the place at all.” He gave a laugh at the idea he could’ve risen so quickly. If only that were the way. He slyly added “well, not yet anyway.” Anyone who knew Finley knew his ambition. “Still in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. I know you quidditch types might find that very dull, but at least I’m not hit by a bludger every day.”

-

Mia shook her head, “I’m also not twelve anymore, Finley.” She said, thinking about how weird it was that he had known her as that scared twelve-year-old. Her ambition had always outweighed her fear though, which is how she ended up knocking out one of Slytherin’s chasers during try-outs. “You knew me before I was old enough to start with this stuff. Besides, if you were and you told me not to drink, I’d just tell you to fuck off.”

"Oh you will eventually, I’m sure of it,” Mia said, remembering the man’s ambition being on par with her own. He had inspired her as her captain, made her want the position herself. Which she got of course. When he said the comment about finding it boring, she had to stifle her laugh, “I mean, maybe a bit. But I’ve known nothing other than quidditch so who knows.”