Hunter Thomas Radley had felt weird feelings in his belly all day long. It had started shortly after the mail had arrived, and he'd read an article about a very specific person. Hunter was not accustomed to ever feeling under the weather, so he had immediately written it off to eating too many bean burritos. Still, all day long the feeling did not go away and he kept re-reading the article in his magazine. That girl was really pretty, he had decided. Hunter liked pretty girls. A lot.

After the affliction had not gone away by the end of the day, Hunter had decided to seek out his big brother for advice. That was what they were for, after all, and this wasn't exactly something to go and talk to his mother about. (The fact he had decided that was what really confused him. He talked to his mum about EVERYTHING after all.)

And so, around nine in the evening, he banged as hard as he could on his brother's door, clutching his stomach with his free hand. "Let me in!" he yelled, in his typical melodramatic way. "I'm dying!" It certainly felt like he was dying on the inside. Well, not really dying, just wasn't very comfortable. Still, yelling through the door to his brother(s) that he wasn't very comfortable probably wasn't going to be a very effective tactic, now was it? No, of course it wasn't. And it was most certainly in Hunter's best interest that they come quickly and aid him in his current predicament. It was always all about him, after all. Surely they weren't very busy or entertaining company. Not his brothers. Not ever.

Archer was only home for a short while.  He needed to check on the state of affairs (if Joel had destroyed it or not – mercifully he was not home at the moment), get some clothes, and gather up the necessities he needed to bring over to Ray’s for the rest of his detail.  She was at the office, thankfully, doing some extra work, which made her with other people – and his presence not required by the terms of his assignment.  She had given him permission to leave, and he took advantage of that to get his things together and check on his home.  He also put another protective charm on his big, old armchair, just in case Joel got any ideas. 

The duffel he packed was slung over his shoulder and he was ready to leave the flat when he heard pounding on the door.  His immediate reaction was to drop his bag and reach for his wand, instinctively approaching the door with caution until he heard the all too familiar whine of one Hunter Radley.  His eyebrows raised and though he did not return the wand to its holster, he lowered his firing arm, and approached the door with caution.  The peeping Tom was more than enough to let him know it was indeed his idiot brother and Archer sighed. 

He unbolted the door and regarded the melodramatic, younger Radley with suspicion.  “Dying?” he gave him the once-over for injuries-  he appeared fine, and if this was a tummy-ache that he couldn’t be handled by mummy.  He wasn’t a healer and certainly didn’t think he had time for this.  Looking around, he sighed and ushered him in – he supposed Ray wouldn’t be leaving the office at any point in the near future anyway – he could afford to waste a few minutes seeing what was wrong with Hunter. 

“What’s wrong?  Runny nose?  Upset stomache?  Was mum too busy to tend to your every last whim?” He immediately looked at his brother with a new level of suspicion, "You weren't out trying to hug strangers in Diagon again, were you?"

It took Archer what seemed to be an incredibly long time to come to the door. After it was opened, Hunter stumbled inside and threw himself down on the couch, tossing the article to the coffee table. "It's worse than all of that!" he moaned loudly, pressing a couch pillow over his face while his other hand remained wrapped about his midsection.

"I'm in love!" he wailed loudly. "I've only just discovered it. My stomach has been hurting all day because of it. I can't go tell our mother that I'm in love and that it is painful! She wouldn't know what to do to fix it! You're my big brother, and more experienced in the ways of women. Surely you have some great, sage advice to pass down to your suffering baby brother?" Hunter lifted the pillow to give him his best pitiful stare as he spoke, trying to make sure that Archer understood the severity of the situation. It wasn't like Hunter to avoid their mother or to break into his brother's apartment to bemoan the ways of women.

Sitting up abruptly, he stared, mouth agape. "You've got to help me! I don't know what to do! She's a real woman, Archer. She isn't some eighteen year old quidditch groupie using me for a shot at the major leagues. I've not dated a real, down to earth woman in so long! I don't know how to be witty and charming for someone who doesn't see more to me than quidditch and deep pockets."

Never mind the fact that Hunter had never met this woman, and probably could not recall her name right off. He did not know her age, or anything about her. All that he knew was that he was in love, and he needed lessons from Archer on how to be a grown up and impress a woman. Not a girl, not a teenager, a woman. He was fairly certain that childish antics couldn't do it, and what else was there to Hunter Radley other than quidditch and mischief?

Putting his hands behind his back, Archer wished his brother could be a bit more British.  What he meant by that, of course, he meant reserved and unwilling to share his emotions in such an obvious way.  Perhaps they had something of that sort in common, but Archer prided himself on being at least able to have some dignity about himself when he shared how he was feeling.  Hunter could not do any of that and he internally cringed when he wailed like some sort of toddler that had not gotten the toy he wanted at the shop. 

Archer could not even fathom when the last time this happened was – well, when he came to him with some sort of infatuation on a woman he didn’t even explain yet.  Tightening his lips, the auror raises his eyebrows at his brother and shook his head.  He was going to need to sit.  Assuming his normal perch, that ratty red chair, Archer looked at his brother spread out on the couch like he was dying of dragon pox or something, moaning like a little girl – and talking like he was straight out of some frilly novel. 

“Knock off the fancy speak,” Archer ordered first and foremost, “and maybe you never should have started on the young ones, eh?” he had to rub it in a little – after all, Archer was fairly certain that his brother was approaching that age where it wasn’t okay anymore, it was just getting creepy and weird and clearly, the girls he currently dated were not interested in him as a person (he could not imagine anyone really being interested in his brother as a person – but that was a conversation for another day)- though, at least he was recognizing that at the moment. 

He didn’t really know much about this romance thing – he met women at work.  That was how he was, he didn’t date much and by the grace of Merlin actually found someone at this point who was better suited for him than anyone he had ever met – just took thirteen years for it to get to that point.  “Where’d you meet her?” he asked, curious as to where his brother had been that he met a “woman” and what on Earth she was doing talking to him. 

Hunter frowned. He knew that his brother(s), parents, and friends weren't very fond of his tendency to date younger women. The fact was, though, that he liked to go out on the town and have fun. It was hard to find a woman his age who enjoyed the same things that he did, and for some reason older women were not very interested in him. When he was younger it had been easy to bounce from serious relationship to serious relationship, the last few years, though, had not been that way. "Can it," he snapped, tone changing drastically. "This is serious."

And, since it was serious, he sat up and quit with the antics. Hunter tilted his head slightly as he pondered the best way to answer Archer's question. The truth of the matter was that he not exactly met her. Hunter doubted, though, that he could really tell Archer that fact and his brother continue to offer him pointers. "Through a friend," he lied quickly. He could consider the paper a friend, couldn't he? And it was very likely he had a friend who knew her. "She's very pretty," he added. So pretty she likely wouldn't want a whole lot to do with Hunter. "Not the slutty pretty like most girls, but real pretty. You know, the kind of pretty where even without make up and tight clothes you'd think she was nice to look at."

"She doesn't really know I exist," Hunter added, wanting to throw a bit of honesty in there. "How do you talk to a woman?" he asked. "I can't just walk up and be like 'Hey baby, ever dated a superstar?'. I mean, I don't normally do that..." He did, actually, just in different words. Hunter had tried a lot of different lines relating to his previous and current level of fame. Generally Hunter just found girls who would date him in the hopes of jumping from him to a real quidditch star. It was annoying, really, especially when there was the rare one he genuinely liked.

"I don't want to make a fool of myself," he confided, very quietly, staring at his lap. It wasn't like Hunter to be self conscious or to admit his own misgivings. "I'm usually full of hot air. I'm not used to not feeling confident when it comes to women. I mean, what is there not to like? I'm good looking, I'm in good shape, I've got money, a great career, and I'm kind of famous. Usually that's enough, y'know? But what if it isn't enough?" It might not be, because she was already well known herself. She wouldn't need to use his name for anything. "I can't ask mum these things. You know how she is. She'll just tell me that the girl will love me because I'm so wonderful and perfect and... well... I mean, I am, but that's not very substantial advice, now is it?"

Archer was smart enough to know when he was supposed to say something and when he wasn’t.  It wasn’t like his brother to be serious about anything – especially women, and he was only slightly concerned at his evasive behavior on answering the question.  He did not press, he could tell he was lying but did not want to further agitate the youngest Radley.  He had a tendency to go into tantrum mode and Archer was not going to deal with that nonsense.  He was on a tight schedule – remembering Ray in her office –and he sighed.  His brother had no idea what really constituted having deep and lingering feelings for someone meant, but he wasn’t about to preach.

It was up to him to figure out his life, even though Archer would, at times, offer him the insight and necessary information so he wouldn’t muck things up too badly.  He could count on Hunter to act like a six year old at any moment and though he teased his brother relentlessly about this fact, he did want him to be happy.  If this, even temporarily would make the man somewhat happy and get him out of his hair and quit making forts in his flat, it was a fairly good plan to help him out.  Really, beneficial on all sides.  And he hadn’t heard Hunter speak about a girl who wasn’t wearing short skirts, tight shirts, and too much makeup in a long time. 

He raised his eyebrows at him and licked his lips for a moment. This was really a tricky situation – for Hunter to not have the words to use?  He was the most verbose of the Radleys, and never seemed to run out of things to say.  Archer was the one who rarely spoke to women outside of work.  Joel, he couldn’t say, but the middle child seemed to adopt traits of either.  It was slightly bizarre.  Frowning just a tad, Archer sighed.  “Well, I’d say be yourself – but you’re an immature prat, so that puts us at square one, doesn’t it?” he laughed a tad, though looking at Hunter’s dejected face, he could see that the man was a little beside himself. 

Sighing, he had to approach this in the best way possible.  His brother didn’t want to be embarrassed.  That meant something, at least to Archer.  Hunter was a goof – a complete spotlight hound, and the fact he wanted to avoid that embarrassment made the situation all the more complicated.  And his brother’s humility was nothing to write home about.  Rolling his eyes, Archer sunk into his armchair a little and sighed again, scratching behind his ear and on his temple – the same temple he had seen a grey hair (or a growing mass of them) on earlier.

“You sound pitiful, Hunt,” Archer said truthfully.  “Man-up for a second and think about what you’re saying.”  Perhaps the most blunt Archer was with his brother was when he was acting like a toddler.  It was an issue that needed to be handled by a man, not a boy.  “How about you drop the big star quidditch act for twenty minutes and be Hunter Thomas Radley?  I mean, you haven’t played the game in years.  Give up on that part, boyo – you must have something else to offer… I mean, except a brain or as good looks as your older brothers.” 

Hunter sighed loudly. He knew that Archer was right. The reason he kept landing crazy, eighteen year old girls was because he acted like a kid most of the time. Real women weren't attracted to a man who clung to his youth and his glory days. It was something that Hunter privately struggled with all the time. Contrary to popular belief, he didn't wear his entire heart on his sleeve. "I've not really seriously dated a woman in years," he reminded Archer. "All I've had are casual dates based off of my former fame and my ties to the industry."

"I don't even know what I have to offer. I really am an immature prat most of the time. I like to have fun and make an arse of myself. That's what I do. What have I got, really, other than dashing good looks and a sense of humor? It's hard to show a person I'm not close to all of my qualities." And many of his qualities were wonderful. He was a loyal, generous, caring man. Hunter took care of his friends and his family very well. It didn't make a good pick up line, though, did it? And trying to show a girl all of that too fast could be very difficult.

"It's easy," he told Archer, "to get a girl to like you when you dangle money and fame in front of her. I've been relying on it for a long time. It's hard, really, to learn how to do it differently. But if I'm old, then you're even older, and that means it's time for me to grow up a little in that arena. B'sides, I'm kind of tired of being alone. Spending Friday night at home alone in my pillow fort isn't very satisfying." It also wasn't satisfying to spend it with a woman he knew he was never going to call back. He didn't want to tell Archer that, though. He wasn't sure whether or not his big brother was aware of his extra curricular activities, and didn't think he should make him aware. Archer was the sort not to approve of wham-bam-thank-you-ma'ams.

"Why is it," he asked, "that girls can't like pillow forts and having fun? Either they're complete air heads that make even me seem like a genius, or they're these cold aloof creatures that think they're too good for anyone. It's like there's no in between." Not that Hunter had a whole lot of experience with women outside of quidditch. Maybe that was the entire problem? "I know that I'm a little intense at times, but there has to be girls out there okay with it. I've found them before. But I guess they grew up, huh?" Hunter let out a quiet, hollow chuckle.

It was really strange to think that Hunter was actually being completely serious about an issue that had been – up until this point – completely unspoken of.  Now, Archer was not the type of man to talk about feelings.  In fact, he only recently felt like there was one person who responded less emotionally to situations than him and it was his girlfriend of all people.  They did not openly and easily talk about how they felt or the problems they had – he recalled only a few days before where he got himself busted up because they didn’t talk to one another and took it out on the other instead. 

Hunter was not that type of person.  As the youngest, and therefore, the spoiled one, he was used to vocalizing just how he felt about just about anything.  Archer was the oldest, and thereby the one to act like nothing was ever wrong, and even if it was, he wasn’t supposed to say so.  It wasn’t something he wanted to share with anyone else, and he certainly didn’t feel like they had a reason to know about how he felt unless they were directly involved.  Now, Hunter came to him looking for advice about a third party, a woman Archer had never met and someone he could not even gauge.  And here he was wanting to grow up on top of it!

Peter Pan, as it were, was finally realizing Neverland was not all it was cracked up to be and Archer sighed, rubbing his temple for a moment.  He wasn’t in the habit of offering encouraging words to his brother, particularly about what he had to offer a woman, but Hunter was a nice guy, if nothing else, and had good intentions – for the most part.  He ignored the blatant comment about his age, which rubbed Archer the wrong way in so many different contexts he would have normally hit his brother upside the head, but he supposed the emotional trauma he was going through was more than enough to make up for the fact he was an insensitive git. 

“Well, I’m not going to disagree with anything you’ve been saying,” Archer made sure to clarify, and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he looked at his brother, explaining like an older brother should, “but for someone who pretends to be so confident, you are very self-conscious.  Women – adult women,” he felt the need to add that, “aren’t interested in how much money you make or where your name is featured in what section of the Prophet, Hunt.  If all you’re interested in doing is goofing off and being a complete dunce then that’s all you’re going to get.” 

He supposed he took his own advice on that one.  When he was single, for the very long time that was the case and was so because he couldn’t find the time or anyone as interesting as he required to date.  Now he was dating one of the most interesting women in the world who was constantly challenging his perceptions of relationships as well as their dynamic.  It was like a constant puzzle, and it was engaging – it was what he needed.  Hunter did not need a puzzle, he needed something different.  He frowned a little.  “I would say they’re not all like that,” Archer added, standing up for the women Hunter referenced, “Except for a few I could name… but, anyway… that’s for another day,” he rubbed his knees for a moment and sat up straight again. 

“What I meant to say was that – yes, people grow up.  Outside of you, it becomes time to find a job and take responsibility for their own business.  Mum usually isn’t picking up after them anymore.  But that doesn’t mean there aren’t women who don’t like to have fun, I mean – it can’t be impossible to find.  Maybe you need to start taking care of yourself… by yourself…?  Get a taste of the real world and act like you’re the adult you are rather than some… man-child.”  Man-up and do your duty, sounded very much like something Archer would say.   

"I'm interested in more than goofing off," Hunter lamented. "I'm interested in Quidditch and..." he trailed off for a moment, trying to think of something else that he was interested in. "Well, I like food, too." But what was wrong with liking pillow forts, Hunter wondered. He liked to have fun, didn't everyone else like having fun too? But liking quidditch, food, and acting like a twelve year old wasn't very helpful, was it? Oh, and girls. Hunter loved girls, and all of the assets that they had to offer.

Hunter, for some reason, did not like the idea of Archer insinuating he wasn't grown up. "Hey!" he protested. "Just because I like having fun doesn't mean I'm not grown up! I live on my own and I can take care of myself. I have a job, and I work hard at it. And Mum doesn't always pick up after me. I can tidy up my own house. But she likes to do it sometimes. She says it makes her feel useful and all that. Do you want our mum to feel like she isn't useful anymore? It's important for her to feel like a mother, and since we've not had any babies for her to take care of I'm all that she has!"

"And I'm not a man-child. Just because I like having fun doesn't make me a kid. I don't shirk my responsibilities to go out and have fun." Also a lie. He did that very often, but most people just didn't know about it, because most people only interacted with Hunter whenever he was away from home.

"Just because I don't wear a tie and work in an office doesn't make me a man-child. I don't want to hate my life. I rather like being able to keep in touch with my inner child. It's sure as hell a whole lot more emotionally healthy than you are." Hunter then crossed his arms, in a very man-child like way, and pouted. "I just don't know why everyone thinks that just because I like to have fun makes me immature."

One would never, just from listening to them, know they were related.  Hunter was probably the most immature man Archer knew, and he dealt with rookie Aurors on a normal basis.  It was strange for someone like Archer, who on most occasions was exceptionally prudent and logical to have to deal with Hunter’s attitude.  Now, this did not mean he did not appreciate the return of his brother into his life, it just seemed like the same sorts of problems he had helped his brother deal with when he was a teenager.  Now, he was approaching the thirty mark and still having the same issues.  Archer supposed some things would never change. 

Of course, if Hunter was as adamant as he seemed to be about getting a real relationship (Archer would see how long that lasted once he figured out how damn hard it really was to maintain), things might change – they might not.  He was curious, but listening to his brother, he sighed.  He was absolutely clueless.  What did it take for someone to grow up?  He protested the fact that he wasn’t an adult, of course, but Archer knew better.  He was an auror, not an idiot.  Raising his eyebrows, Archer found that pill particularly hard to swallow. 

“Emotional health isn’t the only thing a woman is looking for,” Archer pointed out, frowning at the assertion that he was not alright.  He was perfectly fine.  Just because he did not whine and cry about his situation like Hunter did was no indicator that he was not emotionally unhealthy, in fact, it made it all the more likely that he was emotionally stable and comfortable with what was going on in his life.  Yes, that made perfect sense.  And he sighed as Hunter basically summed up the entirety of his rant with the fact that just because he liked to have fun didn’t make him immature. 

He mulled this over a few times before finally opening his mouth, “It’s not only that, you know,” he pointed out.  “You hang out with twenty year olds and date arm candy than women of substance.  Act your age, Hunter.  You’re almost thirty, get some age appropriate friends, be an adult.  You don’t have to hate your life, but you shouldn’t spend every night bar hopping and hanging out with girls almost half your age.   I can’t imagine it’s a very fulfilling existence.” 

"I hang out with twenty year olds because they are the people who play quidditch. My job is quidditch, you know, and it's hard to make friends who are my age because of it. The few quidditch players my age act just the same, in case you didn't know. How do you suggest that I find friends who are my age?" It was a lame excuse, and Hunter knew it. He could get in touch with all kinds of people his age if he tried. The problem was he didn't want to. Hunter had always revelled in living his life like a man ten years younger. But he also knew that Archer was right.

It was a lot easier said than done, though, to just grow up and be an adult. It wasn't as though Hunter had been trained in maturity. His mother doted on him, his fans doted on him, and most girlfriends he had int he past had also doted on him. The more Archer pointed out things to change about his life, though, the more Hunter seemed to go on edge. He didn't like the idea of his brother telling him to live his life differently. It sounded so critical coming from Archer. He didn't always date vapid girls, and he didn't spend every single night out at the bar. Even if he did, it was his life and Archer was clearly just jealous that he had the capabilities to live it that way.

"It's actually quite fulfilling until someone points out to me how pointless it is," he countered lamely. "But it's not so easy to just up and change everything. I've been having fun my entire life. What do you suggest I do? Go to wine tastings, play board games, and discuss the weather?"

"We're off track now, anyway. This isn't about my life or how I live it. This is supposed to be about the proper way to woo a woman without making a complete ass of myself. It can't really be as simple as just being nice and not showing off, can it? If so, then someone lied to me somewhere along the time. I'm going to blame Joel. It's easiest to blame him for everything, isn't it?" Of course it was. Joel had probably lied to him. That's what big brothers did. They lied to make you do stupid things so theyc ould laugh at you.

Archer knew Hunter was full of it, and it was thick.  The man was living ten years in the past and couldn’t seem to break out of that pattern of living.  He picked a career that fostered immature behavior and when he couldn’t play anymore, clung to the lifestyle by getting involved in announcing.  Though Archer was glad for it and the free tickets he acquired, he was also acutely aware of the fact his brother hadn’t made any significant developmental changes or shown signs of growth in years.  It had to be laborious to remain in the same mental state and emotional state for ten years.

He felt like he constantly changed.  Each moment was lived differently than the last, and though some things remained constant in his life, he made it a point to let things go differently and always approach a situation in a new way.  Not always easy, and as some crimes blended together, completely ridiculous to even attempt to do, but he tried, which was the point.  Hunter was not trying to grow up – in fact, he was clearly trying to stay lodged in the awkward place between dependence and autonomy.  He could not jump the final few hurdles, it seemed. 

“You went to Hogwarts, didn’t you?  Owl some contacts, I’m sure you haven’t forgotten every person you went to school with, unless you’ve been hit upside the head five too many times.”  He tried to make light of the situation, of course, because it was an awkward thing to be talking about between brothers, and it was enough of an answer to satisfy Archer. 

Apparently Hunter was not satisfied, however, and using word vomit to cover his tracks.  It was like he could not be a worse liar.  “Maybe if you evolved like a normal person it wouldn’t be so hard,” Archer volleyed back, typical of brothers.  “You can figure out something – I mean, I do well enough.” Granted, Archer really only made friends with those in his field – and those that managed to be assets to his current queries, but that didn’t matter – Hunter didn’t need to know that.  All he had to know was that Archer had friends and could socialize without being ten years old. 

He deflected though, turned the conversation away from his life and toward the woman he was trying to ask out.  “Well, what’s she like?” Archer finally asked, realizing that all the time they spent talking about Hunter was absolutely useless.  It wasn’t what Hunter did – it was what she wanted that mattered, Archer should have realized women were not half so interested in what their men were like, just what they seemed to be able to tolerate.  “That could help a bit – you don’t matter anyway.”

Hunter frowned. He had gone to Hogwarts, yes, but had not kept in touch with a lot of people. Wouldn't it be incredibly awkward and weird and wrong of him to just randomly try to rekindle friendships? People had changed a lot since back then, most certainly. Many were married and had grown up. "I don't think it works quite like that, Archie," Hunter stated, pretending for just a moment to be mature about things. "But I guess you're right, it wouldn't quite hurt to try." Maybe later on when he got back home, Hunter would go through his old quidditch buddies and try to get in touch with them.

What was she like? That was a very good question. Hunter didn't really know much about what she was like. "She's really pretty," Hunter started out. What else did he really know? "She's a musician," he added. "So I guess she has to like music, yeah?" But Hunter didn't really know much about musicians or music in general. Quidditch was his life, and he listened to wahtever was on the radio sometimes, but it wasn't a priority in his life. What else had that article said about her?

"She's pretty popular, too, from what I gather." With that he tried to scoot over and grab the article, hoping to hide it from his brother's view. "So she's artistic and unique and stuff." At least, Hunter assumed that she had to be. It was odd to make speculations, but that was all he had to go on. Artists were supposed to be a bit different. The few artistic people he'd known at Hogwarts were real loons. He hoped that this woman wasn't going to end up being a loon, and that whatever advice his brother had to offer would help.

"But why don't I matter? If I'm the one attempting to try to go out with the woman I would think that I matter very much. Unless she has a boyfriend or something. Or unless she doesn't like men at all. Apart from that, I would think that I matter very much in this situation! You're not realizing the severity of this, Archer! This could be it for me! I could be in love!" But really, whenever Hunter met a girl or was interested in one, when wasn't he in love? He fell in love quicker than anyone else, and got over it just as fast. "I don't think that you're the right person to talk to about this. Maybe I should have asked our mum. She would at least make me feel like I have a chance. You make me feel like You Know Who would have had a better chance!"

Archer shrugged, he had never had a problem contacting people, but he supposed that was the nature of his job. If Auror Radley came knocking the official business came first and then, through the course, something could come up and a personal relationship could be restored.  Of course, his job often tied him into a number of spheres of life-  victims, criminals, context interviews – he wasn’t restricted to one very narrow societal group.  His brother, on the other hand, was tied down to quidditch players, coaches, groupies, and reporters. 

It was a small portion of the world and most of them were under the age of 26, then they cycled out and lived another life.  Hunter Radley had never been able to cycle out of the lifestyle he adored – fast brooms, easy women, and lots of talking.  It didn’t seem like a half-bad life, but moments where he had no idea how to even talk to a woman with more than one brain cell, well it told Archer that he wasn’t exactly getting as much as he could be out of his lifestyle than something else.  Of course, any suggestion that Hunter get another job was almost ridiculous – he really was made for the wireless, but he had to also interject some of his adulthood into it. 

If he couldn’t even have a conversation using adult terms, though, Archer was skeptical – unique and stuff was not a very comprehensive analysis – none of what Hunter said was entirely comprehensive and he raised his eyebrows as he leaned over to grab a piece of paper.  Well, that was interesting.  “Accio, paper,” he flicked his wand and caught the paper with his left hand, looking at the picture of the woman and blinking at it before looking back to his brother.  He could not possibly… Oh… but he was the type… Archer furrowed his dark brows and looked with scrutiny at Hunter.

“Have you ever even met her?” he asked bluntly.  He doubted it sincerely, especially because of his narcissistic behavior about the whole thing – and if he met her he would clearly know if she had a boyfriend – or liked boys at all.  “Hunter. Are you serious?”

And there it went- the paper buzzing through the air into his brother's hands with the simple flick of a wand. Hunter was mortified, but apart from the inital flinching, he just leaned back and tried to play it cool. He clasped his hands behind his head and arched a lazy brow in the direction of his brother, a complete one-eighty from his previous anxious behavior. "Come off it, Archer. D'you really think I'd be dumb enough to burst into your house, acting like a complete fool, to ask you for love advice about a woman in a paper that I've never met before?" Hunter made a scoffing noise and rolled his eyes, then leaned forward to yank the paper out of his brother's hands.

"I'm not completely mental. Of course I've met her before." Now was the part where he was going to have to try to make that believable. "I meet all kinds of people with my job, I just didn't meet her for very long was all." There, that ought to work. "We chatted barely five minutes, but I just knew, Archibald. And five minutes isn't long enough to figure out anything about anybody. I just don't want to be that creepy guy who owls after such a short introduction. I have to make sure that I go about this the right way."

Leaning back again, he shook his head and chuckled. "Have I ever met her before? Hilarious." Folding the paper up, he tucked it into his back pocket and stood up. "I guess I've exhausted you of all the useful information you have to help me, oh brother of mine. I should get out of your hair... what little you have left anyway. I'm sure you're busy, and so am I."

Hunter ran a hand through his hair as he approached the door, shrugging indifferently. "I guess us Radley men just aren't as good with the ladies as we would like to think. I don't know what made me think you'd know what to tell me, anyway. It's not like you date." With a friendly smile, he gave his brother a quick hug. "Sorry for busting in on you like this. I'll take care of the problem myself. You're right. She's just a woman, and I just have to pull my head out of my arse." Inside, Hunter was still on full panic mode, but he thought he had played off the accusation rather well. Archer would never know he had never really met the woman of his dreams. "Cut the bull and just be Hunter Radley- not Hunter the Quidditch Pro. They're two people, you know. I'll be sure to let Mum know you're wandering off at night with an overnight bag to who knows where, and let her stew on it for a while. She'll send you an owl soon, I'm sure."