It had been a few days since Hunter had found himself sprawled out on his brother's couch, claiming he was in love with a woman based upon seeing her picture. Now that the initial shock of being infatuated with someone based off of a photograph had worn off, Hunter had gathered his wits about him and decided to do the only sensible thing- go to a concert and try to meet her afterward. Hunter was a man with connections, after all, so it shouldn't be too difficult to stalk find her.

He had discovered that the woman's band would be at The Three Broomsticks. This meant he could see the goddess perform and decide if maybe she had been magically altered in some way in the photo, and see if he really had the guts to approach her.

Hunter entered the place, and took a seat in a corner. He had a great view and he wouldn't be bothered. He was glad to look around and notice that it wasn't a Hogsmeade weekend. Hunter didn't want to have to fight a bunch of teenagers for a place to sit or a chance to talk to the lead singer of Three Owl Standard afterward. (Though, Hunter noticed, she seemed to be on her own. Maybe he should have read that article instead of gawking at her picture so much? He couldn't recall anything it said.)

He remained in his seat throughout her performance, barely touching the butter beer that he had ordered. (Now that he was used to the real thing, it had lost the charm it once had when he was a student at Hogwarts.) Hunter generally didn't listen to a lot of music- he was way too focused on sports for that. Still, it hadn't been bad. It wasn't something that was really his sort of music, but it wasn't something that would make his ears bleed, either. He kept his eyes on her as she stepped off the small stage and talked to a few other people in attendance. Then she took up a seat at the bar and he saw his chance.

Running a hand through his hair, mussing it up to give himself that cute, slept in look he breathed into his hand and sniffed it then approached her. "Can I buy you a drink?" he asked. There! That hadn't been too awfully hard. His stomach was knotted up in a weird way, though. The way it did whenever he planned to hit on a girl that he knew could very well turn him down. (And probably would, actually. Who was he, anyway, but a washed up quidditch player with a face for radio?)

Trina looked around at the decent sized crowd gathered in the Three Broomsticks.  There had been an article in the paper about her small concert, so that had probably helped with the turnout. The owner of the establishment had asked her if she would want to play a there in order to get a little more business.  A little over a week ago, she’d done the same thing in a different establishment to some pretty good results. So of course, she’d said yes.  Also, because she loved performing, even if it wasn’t the typical style that people would hear with Three Owl Standard.

After having finished her last song, Trina took the time to talk with a couple of people who had come up to her.  Questions about herself, Dennis Creevy (one of the founding members of the band she was associated with), as well as music in general.  After her chat with them, she made her way over to the bar.  Despite the enjoyable evening, and fairly enjoyable day, she felt the need to have some alcohol in her system.

Shortly after having sat down, someone had approached her and asked if he could buy her a drink.  Trina looked over and observed the man. She had noticed him in the audience and had already taken note that he was fairly good looking.  Nice smile, nice hair, and a very nice body.  And she couldn’t help but notice that he looked a little nervous.  He also looked somewhat familiar, though there was always the possibility of him having been at Hogwarts sometime during her time there. I couldn’t hurt to accept his offer.

“I’d like that. Thank you.” She said, giving him one of her famous smiles. “Perhaps some Firewhiskey? And to whom do my thanks go?”

So far this was definitely a better night than last time when she’d performed somewhere. Normally getting accosted by some other woman wasn’t fun.  But having a good looking guy buy you a drink is definitely an improvement.  Trina also hoped this one would be better at handling publicity in case someone tipped off the Daily Prophet about her being seen with another man.  But since he’d watched her perform and apparently wanted to be associated with her, that might be a good sign.

Hunter was ecstatic when she didn't shoot down his offer. He hadn't really wanted to retreat with his metaphorical tail tucked between his legs. His smiled widened as he ordered the drink for the girl, and then came the part where he was supposed to speak. Archer had told him to knock off the act, and just be himself. Well, not himself. Not the part of himself where he was a nonsensical, immature prat who built pillow forts in his spare time and chased after eighteen year old skirts- the good parts. (Though it seemed his brother had forgotten to point out exactly what those good parts were. Hrm.)

"Hunter Radley." He had a hard time refraining from making a joke about how his name was oddly appropriate since he had been hunting her. The last thing that he needed to do was come off as some dodgy old man who stalked young women for kicks. He was definitely not a stalker! (Well, not in the creepy technical sense. He had seen her picture and come to the show just because she was hot and he wanted to talk to her, but that was normal, wasn't it?)

He motioned toward the stage after her drink was served. "You were really good looking... I mean, you were really good. Up there, singing. Not that you aren't good looking but I meant..." Then his beer was plopped down on the bar and he picked it up and took a long swig from. Perfect timing, really. Hopefully the mug would also hide his blush. "What I meant," he said, wiping his mouth. "Was that you had a great show, and you are also very pretty." That wasn't much better, but hopefully it would work.

Running a hand through his hair, he offered a goofy, lopsided grin. He wasn't really sure what to say after that. Hunter felt like a complete and total dork, and he hated feeling dorky. Maybe he should do a few shots of firewhiskey himself. It might give him the liquid courage he needed. (Or it would cause him to make an even bigger ass out of himself. Who knew?)

“Hunter Radley? Nice to meet you. I’m Trina Quinn. Though... I suppose you probably already knew that.” Smiling once again, she found herself enjoying his company already. When he said his name, she thought it sounded vaguely familiar. But where it came from, Trina wasn’t sure.

When he next tried to speak, Trina did her best to stifle a giggle. He was adorable. But not quite in the cute little puppy adorable.  This was more of the ‘you’re so adorable that I want to get to know you better’ type of adorable.  Then he also blushed while trying to talk to her, which was a bit endearing.  And these thoughts in her head were making Trina wonder why they were there. It wasn’t like her to think that way about a guy, and most certainly not after having just met him. He was blushing and being funny, though probably wasn’t meaning too. But for some reason, Trina found herself being attracted to that.

“Thank you very much. I’m glad to hear you enjoyed me. I mean my concert.” She let out a short, musical laugh and gave a smile.   Then, Trina took some sips from the drink he’d gotten her, and thought about how silly she was being.  It wasn’t often Trina Quinn found herself acting silly around guys. The last time, she’d been incredibly composed and charming.  Now, she found that this guy, Hunter, was making her act a little goofy as well. Perhaps it was that goofy smile of his having some affect on her. Control yourself, Quinn. Just keep talking. She thought to herself.

“So how did you hear about my concert? Or did you just happen to wander in?” Trina thought that seemed like a good question.  Could spark more conversation. Or just keep it going.  Because if she knew anything, she wanted to hear more of him talking.  Even though she’d had many guys who were not able to talk to her in a composed manner, this one seemed to stick out a bit.  Something about him seemed different, but Trina tried pushing that to the back.  He’s just another guy, and one who will probably end up disliking an article being published about us being seen together, like they all are. But if Trina knew, he had his fair share of publicity. And that he was a bit different.

He grinned when she didn't seem too put off by his inability to form a coherent sentence. "I saw an article about you in a magazine," he answered truthfully. "And then I found out about the concert and decided that I should come." Hunter did not tell her he had decided to come and try to catch her in a carefully laid love trap. Then again, the trap had probably been laid rather poorly at this point. They were tricky things, those love traps!

Hunter fell silent for a few moments, panicking slightly as he grasped at the empty space between his ears for some suitable topic of conversation. Archer had told him to lay off the big bad quidditch star act. It was a lame crutch, Hunter agreed, considering how long he had been removed from the game. "Do you write your own songs?" he finally asked. Talking about her would be good. It would help to make him seem interested (and he was) and make him seem like he wasn't a complete and total arrogant ass. (And he wasn't one of those, not all of the time anyway.)

When the man behind the bar checked on them, he ordered a snack and smiled at Trina. "D'you want anything?" he asked. He hoped he wasn't trying too hard, but it seemed the polite thing to do. Even if she declined his offer, he would offer to share his own with her when it arrived. That was really saying something, too. Last person to try and pilfer food from him had been Archer, and he tried to stab him with a fork. (Archer had, naturally, kicked his butt immediately thereafter. Having an auror as a brother sucked sometimes.)

Trina smiled. “I’m glad you did.” She said before taking a drink from her firewhiskey.

Taking another sip from her drink, she found herself unsure of what to say.  Luckily the silence didn’t seem too awkward.  Trina kicked herself mentally for allowing this to happen.  She shouldn’t feel this way after having just met the guy.  Think, think. What does he do! That’s what I can ask!. Of course, as she opened her mouth to ask, he said something else. Trina decided to save that question for later then.

“I do. Of course, I have to have people look over them to make sure they’re good, but they normally are. Not that I’m being cocky or anything. But I’ve always been good at writing and anything to do with music. I guess it’s a family trait. Though I never knew much of my extended family. Just what I’ve heard.” Oh, shut up Trina. You’re rambling! she said to herself. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to say that much. It just kinda... spilled out.”

This wasn’t supposed to happen. If a cute guy talks to you, you talk back and be confident. At least that was what Trina would normally do. She felt like she was a fifth year back at Hogwarts.  Why wasn’t she like this a couple weeks ago when she was talking with Adon? If she knew the two guys better, it would most likely be because of their personalities.  But for now, she would have to just keep questioning herself and eventually find out.

“To eat? Oh, no thank you.” Trina smiled politely when she declined.  She would have accepted had she not had such a huge dinner. But she also figured she’d gotten a drink from him, she didn’t need to mooch off him any more. Trina was also capable of buying her own food if she needed and felt bad having other people pay for her. Even if they wanted to.

After another sip from her drink for courage, she decided to ask him about him. “So, what do you do?”

Sometimes having the maturity level of a teenager was inconvenient. Especially when pretty girls like Trina Quinn said the word "cocky" and he immediately snorted into his mug of beer and blew beer foam everywhere- including in her direction. He pulled the mug from his face and used his sleeve to wipe his mouth and mopped up the counter with a napkin. "Sorry," he muttered before immediately going back to the subject at hand so that she didn't think he was laughing at her.

"You're really good. I couldn't write a decent song if my life depended on it. It'd come out all wrong and be too ridiculous for people to take me seriously." Yes, Hunter could see it now. A song about quidditch and nailing groupies that sounded much like a dirty limerick as opposed to a real song. Besides, what she sang had real feeling behind it. Beautiful, really. Hunter, good as he was at expressing feelings, was not always very eloquent with it. "No- don't apologize, I like listening." He liked listening to her talk about herself. It was easier this way than asking around and reading articles to find out something about her.

A slight, disappointed frown twitched at his lips when she declined his offer, but it was replaced by a smile when she asked him what he did. "I work for Puddlemere!" he told her. Puddlemere was his life, so as he spoke he grew more and more animated. "I do announcing for their quidditch games. Travel with the team from place to place to broadcast the games on wizard radio. It's grand fun! I get free tickets and get to be a part of quidditch. I used to play professionally," he told her. "But now I don't." He left out the entire, long, drawn out melodramatic story about his war wound. Archer would be proud.

"I couldn't think of a more fun job than what I've got. Quidditch has been my life since I was at Hogwarts. I played for the school team and I used to play semi-pro before I got picked up by Puddlemere. Never missed a game! Never will, either." Yup, that was right. No matter how much Hunter thought he might like this girl, he was never going to skip quidditch for a skirt. Never. Not even for a wedding. Quidditch was his bread and butter and it was the blood in his veins.

His food arrived and he stuffed his mouth full, pushing it forward so it was between the two of them. "We can share," he informed her with his mouth full. Ever the one to mind his manners, that Hunter Radley.

When Hunter snorted beer out at Trina’s saying the word “cocky”, she was shocked at first.  But a moment after that, she started laughing.  She watched him try to frantically clean up the beer foam from the counter with the napkin.  It was cute. When he stopped laughing, she tried stopping herself as well.  She didn’t want to keep laughing and embarrass him.  Of course, he’d stopped laughing to make Trina think he wasn’t laughing at her, and here she was doing almost the same thing.

Trina blushed a bit when he said she was really good. Well, she did know that, but it wasn’t too often people said that to her face. And it was nice that he said he liked listening.  Trina thought he sounded sincere in it, and smiled.  Most of the time people would say it, but definitely not mean it. 

Then the way he lit up when talking about his job made Trina laugh a little. Of course, now it made a bit more sense as to why he’d seemed a bit familiar. She’d probably seen or heard him somewhere before.  And the fact that he used to play Quidditch would probably be the reason for his very nice body. Well, at least what Trina could see from the clothes he was wearing.  She always did have a thing for the Quidditch players in school...

“That’s great that you enjoy your job. And that you’re so dedicated to it as well. I couldn’t imagine doing anything else either, I suppose. Music is kind of my life.” She smiled, but her brain when back to him saying that he doesn’t any more. It looked like he was still in pretty good shape, and Trina wasn’t sure why he’d quit. It didn’t seem like he would do it on purpose.

Then his food came, and he offered to share with her. She smiled. “Thank you. And, if you don’t mind me asking, how come you don’t play any more?” Trina stole one of his chips, and waited to see if he was going to answer her question.

Hunter wasn't exactly sure how he was supposed to keep the conversation focused on her and talk about her and learn about her if she kept talking about him and asking about him. Maybe that was the trick to a well balanced conversation- both people had to think that they weren't supposed to talk about themselves. "Well, music seems to be a very fitting life," he informed her before ordering a fresh beer and answering the question as to why he did not play quidditch anymore.

The youngest Radley was, in all honestly, extremely bitter about the circumstances surrounding his ousting from the game. Anyone who knew him well had heard him recount the story multiple times, tweaking the details ever so slightly in each telling. By now, Hunter had mixed up the embellishments with the truth, and he didn't want to tell an outright lie to Trina. Telling lies was (supposedly) a bad way to start off any sort of relationship- whether it got romantic or not.

After his new beer was handed to him, Hunter took a few chugs before pushing a hand through his hair and offering a crooked, indifferent grin. "Injury," he stated simply. "Rogue bludgers are nasty buggers, and one got me in the spine. Fell to the ground. It was hurt pretty bad. Even magic couldn't fix it right up. Couldn't play anymore because it would just act up. Another team offered me a slot, but it was Puddlemere or nothing for me! So I just took up a post announcing. It kept me being a part of game as much as I could." After he finished his story, Hunter couldn't control the way his bottom lip popped out in a typical Hunteresque pout. "I still practice sometimes with the team, but it's not the same, y'know?"

"It would be like your voice going out, and someone telling you that you could produce music, but that you couldn't sing anymore." He didn't know much about the music industry, and hoped his analogy was somewhere along the right lines. "You still get to be a part of what you love, but it's not the right part." Hunter then shrugged suddenly, replacing his pout with a bright smile. "But let's not focus on that, yeah? No need to be so sullen when we've got great company, good eats, and alcohol." He held up his beer, hoping she would toast him, grinning all the while.

Trina nodded. “It is pretty fitting. A bit of travel, but it’s fun to meet new people. I’m sure you must know what that’s like too.”

By now she’d finally finished her Firewhiskey, and it seemed he was on his second beer as well.  As much as Trina hated to admit it, she could be a terrible lightweight. She contemplated ordering another drink, and in the end gave in.  She hadn’t had nearly enough to drink this past week and she figured she would be fine. Though firewhiskey was fairly strong, it was one of Trina’s favorite drinks, as odd as that was.  She gave her order to the bartender, and then continued listening to Hunter’s story as to how he got injured.

She grimaced. That would be a very bad way to have to end your career. Trina remembered watching Quidditch back in Hogwarts, and a couple of the games she’d been to since then.  Bludgers were pretty scary things.  Then Hunter’s analogy that it would be like Trina being in music but not being able to sing helped her get what he must have been feeling.  That would be very difficult for her, and so figured it must be that bad for him.

“I’m sorry. That’s quite unfortunate. I couldn’t imagine having that happen.” She gave a sympathetic look.  Then she received her new drink and took a sip. Seeing him go from the sad face to the very happy face lifted her spirits though.

Trina raised her glass and joined in the toast with him. “To all of the above.” She let out a laugh and then took another drink from her firewhiskey. “And I just have to say that you have one of the most infectious smiles. Every time you smile, I can’t help but smile too.”

Hunter was very glad to let the subject of his quidditch career drop with the toast that they made. He smiled when she complimented him, feeling very much like a giddy school boy. The kind that wanted to run around yelling SHE THINKS I'M CUTE at the top of his lungs when a girl told him something nice. Still, this wasn't the time to be a school boy. No siree bob it was not! "Well, Miss Trina Quinn, I would have to say that you have the prettiest smile I've ever seen. And that's probably why I'm trying so hard to make you show it to me," he said with a wink.

He tried to think of something else to talk about. What he really wanted to do was just get so drunk he couldn't feel feelings anymore. Maybe he'd be more functional at that point, because he would be capable of speaking without thinking. It was a usual skill of his, to be honest, but he seemed to have misplaced the directions somewhere on how that worked. So, he turned to his snack and his beer to distract him as he tried to think of something interesting to talk about...

Something interesting that wasn't childish, Quidditch related, or about other chicks. Yeah, girls didn't want to hear you talk about other girls, did they? No. Of course not. Girls were jealous beings by nature. (Not that he wasn't jealous either.) So, those other things, the good parts of himself that Archer mentioned. What were those qualities again? Probably not his ability to chug a mug of beer in record time, which it seemed he had just done. Great. Now he probably looked like a boozer to this pretty girl that he genuinely wanted to try to get to know. That was just like Hunter, now wasn't it? Yes, of course it was. Fighting the urge to facepalm, he shook his head when asked if he wanted another beer.

"So, you went to Hogwarts, right?" he asked. Maybe he knew her from there, maybe not. His days in Hogwarts were spent wooing women and playing quidditch. "What house were you in?" Still, talking about school had to be a very safe route. It was hard to make people mad when you went for a safe topic like that. And knowing houses made a person know a lot about others. If she was a Slytherin, he might be heart broken.

Trina could see Hunter’s face light up when she complimented his smile. He certainly was infectious when he smiled. Even when he laughed, she wanted to laugh too.  Then when he said he enjoyed seeing her smile, and it was why he was trying to get her to smile, she couldn’t help but smile even more.  Even with the wink, Trina knew he was being sincere and telling the truth. 

Then, with another lull in the conversation, she took another couple of drinks of her firewhiskey.  And of course, Trina found herself at a loss of what to say. Instead she found herself just staring at him for a moment with some silly girl smile on her face.  When she realized what she was doing, she turned her attention back to her drink and took a sip.  Hunter then refused the bartender’s offer of another beer, and Trina turned back to him to hear him ask her another question.

“Yes, I did! I was in Ravenclaw. Graduated in... 2000 I think it was. I’m guessing you did too? Perhaps I’d seen you play Quidditch then. What house were you in?” Trina asked. 

Trina probably had seen him around Hogwarts, despite the huge size of the school.  He did look to be a few years older than her, though.  But, there was always the possibility of them having run into each other at some point.  Also, if he was popular for his quidditch skills, she probably had at least heard of him for that.  Trina always enjoyed going to the games during her school years.

"Gryffindor!" Hunter proclaimed, chest swelling with pride. "Best house Hogwarts had to offer! No offense to you, Ravenclaw isn't half bad at all, not like Slytherins were of course. But Gryffindors just have a little bit of everything rolled into one!" It was true, too. Hunter would always think that Gryffindors were superior to everyone else, and he was always going to hate Slytherins. No matter how old that he got, he was always going to put a lot of stock into the former houses of people. If she was a Ravenclaw that meant that she was a smart cookie, too. Pretty, talented, and had a brain. Yep, Hunter was definitely beginning to believe that this chick was going to end up being one hundred percent out of his league. "I graduated in 1998 though," he added.

"Were you like most Ravenclaws?" he asked, leaning in closer. "You know... Quiet, studious, and completely lacking of any adventure? A real nice girl?" Hunter then waggled his eyebrows, unable to reign in the immature side of him any longer. Small talk was hard, no one had ever told him that before. "You know us Gryffindors," he added. "Always getting into trouble with that incurable naughty streak... And, before you ask, because I know you're dying to find out, yep- I still have one."

"So what do you think?" Hunter asked, standing up and offering Trina a hand. "You want to dance or ditch this place? I'm not very good at this small talk thing. I feel like we need to do something more interesting than having drinks and trying to find stuff to talk about." Hunter realized after he spewed the nonsense that it sounded like he was trying to pick her up in "that way". He blushed furiously at the thought and rubbed the back of his neck, giving her a goofy grin. "I mean, well, I don't mean it like that. I'm not trying to get you into bed or anything. You're a good looking woman and I wouldn't turn you down if you tried, but that's not the intent behind that statement. I just..." he sighed heavily. "I'm no good with women, especially women that I know are going to end up being out of my league."

Of course he was a Gryffindor. He seemed to embody many of the qualities of one from that house. Trina was also thankful he wasn’t a Slytherin. She’d never quite gotten along with them before. He was a couple years older than her, then, having graduated in 1998. But she now knew why he’d seemed so familiar, she must have heard about him playing quidditch, or perhaps from one of her older friends. 

“I suppose I was a Ravenclaw in the fact that I did enjoy learning.  Of course, I enjoyed learning music most.  I studied a fair bit, but was able to retain most information quickly.  But I most definitely wasn’t quiet or lacking a sense of adventure.  The Sorting hat was debating between putting me in Ravenclaw or Gryffindor, and ultimately chose Ravenclaw.  But I do have a bit of a naughty streak too, I suppose.”

She gave him a wink before drinking some more firewhiskey, and finishing the glass. Then with his offer of dancing or heading elsewhere, Trina nodded.  Oddly enough, she was finding herself having the same problem that Hunter was.  Normally she was quite good at talking to men, but perhaps she’d found a weakness.  Nothing like a big, strong man to sweep her off her feet like this.  Trina just hoped that it wouldn’t end up being another dead end. She might actually really like this guy.

“Well, where would you feel best? I’m not too picky.  You seem like someone I’d like to get to know better.” She smiled. “And I’m not too sure I’m out of your league.”

Trina then took his hand and stood up. “One moment.” She took out her wand and moved over to get a clear view of her performance equipment before sending them to her house.  When they’d disappeared, she moved back over to Hunter. “All right. Where would you like to go?”

Hunter grinned. So she had a bit of a naughty streak, too? That was good to hear. He had always associated Ravenclaws as being boring bookworms. Then again, when he was in school, Hunter was far from a bookworm. He was concerned with quidditch and having fun, and absolutely nothing else. It hadn't been the best decision, he realized, upon graduating. If he hadn't gotten a stint with a pro team, Hunter had no clue where he would be now. "Never heard of someone having to choose between those. Sorting hat barely touched my head before it threw into Gryffindor. I can't say it was wrong, though."

"And it seems to me that studying music was a pretty good choice for you. You've got a great voice and you're talented. Some people just aren't as good as they think they are. I remember the people with guitars at Hogwarts. Especially the guys. Thought they were so deep and awesome, and they were just complete ass clowns."

And then, she said she wasn't out of his league. Not only was he not out of her league, but she wanted to get to know him better. Hunter was floored. He smiled again and pushed a hand through his hair, and suddenly realized he had absolutely no clue where they could go. His smile faltered.

"Well... I... I don't really know," Hunter confessed. "Maybe we could just go out for a walk. I know it's late, but the fresh air would be nice. If you're feeling brave, we could go check out the shrieking shack," he said with a wink. He remembered back in school- everyone avoided the shreiking shack, and girls were absolutely terrifed of it. Then again, young girls were afraid of everything, it seemed. Hunter had dated a couple of girls who were eighteen or nineteen, and they were chickens, too. He remembered one called him over at three in the morning just to kill a spider. (And he had thought he was going to get lucky. He was wrong.)

"I'm open for suggestions, though!" Hunter said, perking up a bit. "So if you have a place you really wanna go, that's fine with me." He remembered once his mom had told him to let the girls make the decisions sometimes, that they liked it. Maybe it would be an effective tactic this time.