takin' care of business

If you ever get annoyed

look at me I'm self-employed

There were things that had to be done. There were things that Natasha knew that they were going to have to figure out. But it was March now, and that meant that the pre-season was upon them. They had to figure out what it was that they still needed, and what it was that they were going to do. She knew that Jaxon had been working with the muggleborn keeper that they had had on the team before, but she hadn’t gotten in to see Graves about that yet. The registration had to come to an end, and that wasn’t something that they seemed to be making a whole lot of progress on right now.

That meant that they were going to have to find the answers that they were looking for somewhere else, and she thought that that was something that she could do. She could help them find the answers. Meeting with those involved was important though.

The witch thought that she had built a bridge of communication between herself and the captain of her team, but she knew that she still needed a far better relationship with her coach. If they were going to win, and they were going to win, then she had to do something about it. She had to make sure that they were all working together, that they had what they needed. She was not going to be the type of owner that sat back and did nothing. She was going to be involved. And she knew that she had never really cared when this had been Daniel’s team. But she had taken it. And she was going to do even better.

If there was one thing that she wanted more than anything, it was to have anything that Daniel wanted. And maybe that was petty, because he had been a good husband for a long time. But he had ruined all of that with his foolish choices, and Natasha had every bit of a mind to make him pay for it in any way that she could. If that meant that she was going to do everything in her power to make sure that PU had what they needed to win, then that was going to become her mission.

And she could do it. She could make sure that there was no stone unturned when it came to getting the best for them starting this new season off. It was just how it was going to come about that she needed to figure out. There had to be some sort of plan, and she didn’t think that they actually had one right now. Right now, they had a goal. And while a goal was something to strive towards, she wanted to know if Wood had any idea how he was going to get there.

Life had been working out well enough lately though, and she would take that as some sort of sign. Of course, there was the fact that her cousin’s engagement had fallen through, but Natasha couldn’t really say that she was thrilled with the idea of a Lestrange in the family anyway. She could handle Ares, if she had to. But that was the extent of her wanting Death Eaters in the family. There was too much to be learned from the muggle world to even think that their mindset was correct.

She was a doctor, after all. Not just a healer.

Setting all of that aside though, she stood up from behind her desk when the door opened to reveal Oliver Wood coming in from practice. She had been watching from her window, and it looked like they were as ready as they were going to get for tomorrow’s pre-season match against the Kestrals. “They’re not looking too shabby out there, Oliver. What do you think?”

@wood • 638 • natasha's outfit

MADE BY VEL OF GS + ADOX 2.0

Takin' Care of Business

Empty Spaces
What Are We Living For?
Abandoned Places
I Guess We Know The Score
On And On, Does Anybody Know What We Are Living For?
Another Hero
Another Mindless Crime
Behind The Curtain In The Pantomime
Hold The Line
Does Anybody Know Want To Take It Anymore?

This was Oliver's second favourite time of year, right beside League season and the national play offs. It was the time of year where he could put pretty much everything else on the back burner in order to focus on the immediate; Puddlemere United were a great team, his team, he'd been with them since he'd been recruited straight out of school. This team was his life and it meant nearly everything to him because of that. Disregarding the fact that the Tornadoes had battered them somewhat catastrophically last year and Oliver was determined to return the favour, he just wanted to see them do the best they had ever done this year, just like every year. They had more to prove this time. New ownership meant changes further down the ladder and Oliver wasn't the type to read into the rumour mill going on surrounding Daniel's departure. It wasn't his business. But with his ex missus taking the team over, she was going to want to see them playing their best. And that meant that he had to whip them up and into shape with entirely new tricks and maneuvers to show he wasn't growing lax.


But the point still stood that he was determined to make Flint swallow that damned smug smile of his and stumble on his own swagger that he lorded around the pitch after a rough game. Even though there was something... definitely peculiar going on with the bloke right now - he just had to remember that day back in Bukowski's - he couldn't allow it to throw him off. For all he knew that was just a new tactic to distract him from the very real situation before them. His strange looks, lingering eyes, the frowning... Oliver would be a liar if he said he hadn't given a few looks of his own. But it was entirely irrelevant. Now that Marcus had that slight edge on them, Puddlemere had to make sure they at least knocked out a few teeth if not a few players off their brooms before they bowed out this time. He was determined to see them through this to the finals, to the cup, somehow or other, and leave the Tornadoes in their dust. He'd never been so fierce in years, so hellbent on victory. He'd been up for months, scrawling battle plans on his apartment windows with glass quills, and now he was putting the team through the motions. 


Looking over his shoulder towards the offices, he saw a shadow of a person in Daniel's old space, and whistled his captain over to oversee the practice while he went to check it out. Could be Daniel clearing out house still... though he'd had weeks to do that. Otherwise it was Natasha, and he knew it was about time he spoke to the Witch as well. Best to be on the same page so the team had a clear run, and all. The Kestrals weren't going to know what hit them tomorrow. Popping his head round the door after a quick knock, Oliver stepped into the office and carefully closed the door behind him, turning to Natasha and following her gaze. Smiling brightly and looking out the window as the team went back through the new formations he'd drawn out for them, he slid his hands into his pockets and nodded, "I'm feeling pretty confident about them, though there's always room for improvement. The beaters need to keep to their parallels when the chasers pull and knit before the corkscrew, but I'm sure they'll have that ironed out tonight before they go home."

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602 Words | @natasha |

TEMPLATE BY ELIZA @ SP ADOXOGRAPHY

TAKIN' CARE OF BUSINESS

IF YOU EVER GET ANNOYED

LOOK AT ME I'M SELF-EMPLOYED

Natasha hadn’t grown up here, she wasn’t sure that she would have ever thought that she would own an English quidditch team, but anything that she could have possibly taken from Daniel to hurt him, she had. She had taken the house, she had taken the boat, she had taken the quidditch team. Anything that he loved, she had taken it, because he had hurt her. And Natasha thought that it was rather convenient that he had forgotten that they had both signed a prenup, and that the money was hers. Seeing him destitute with his co-eds was amusing, on some level. It made her feel better.

If there was something about all of this that she couldn’t hate too much, it was that part. That he had ended up with nothing, and she had everything. She had the loyalty of their children. She had her career, and she had taken part of his. That was all that mattered to her now. She didn’t want to think that any of the rest of it mattered. She didn’t care if they were all sick, she only cared that he was, and that he had probably caught it from whatever co-ed he had been sleeping with at the time. She was mad. It had been plenty long enough, and Natasha was still mad about everything that had happened.

And she knew that she should be getting over it by now. She knew that there were plenty of other things that they needed to worry about. But with her kids off at school, or working in their respective hobs, Natasha wasn’t concerned with much other than Daniel and how she could get back at him in her spare time. Not that she had a lot of it, but what she did have was dedicated to this team, and to making sure that they were going to shine. She wanted to win, and she thought that they could. They had the team. They had the players. Or they had last year. The Epidemic changed things.

She had faith in Wood though. He was good at what he did, and if anyone could get them all whipped back into shape, she thought that it would be him. Natasha didn’t want to just do well, she wanted to win. And she knew that there was something a little more complicated to that than just sending the players up in the air on broomsticks. Of course, she couldn’t have said what it was, quidditch was not her thing. She was a Cardiologist, and a teacher, she didn’t know what they wanted her to actually do here, but if she could help, she would.

Hearing what the man had to say about the team was important to her. She had already talked to Cole. He was the captain, and probably had more in common with the players themselves than Wood did as the coach. That tended to set one apart. She had learned that when she had taken on the role of Head of Cardiology instead of just being another Cardiologist. They tended to look at you differently when you were in charge of something. But that was okay too. They needed people that knew what they were doing to be in charge.

They had a match tomorrow, the first one of preseason, and she had to hope that they were ready. If they weren’t, she was going to look mighty embarrassed, but she hadn’t been bragging on them too much outside of her family. And she knew that Brig didn’t actually care. She would laugh at her for a little while about being so invested in quidditch to start with, but it would be over nearly as quick as it had started.

Natasha chuckled a little bit as he explained what he actually thought. “Will they?” She didn’t know enough about quidditch to know what they could learn in a night. But she trusted him to know what was going on. “Are we going to win tomorrow? Or will the Headmistress be sending me apology flowers instead?”

@ wood • 680 • natasha's outfit

MADE BY VEL OF GS + ADOX 2.0

Takin' Care of Business

The show must go on
The show must go on
Inside my heart is breaking
My make-up may be flaking
But my smile still stays on

His biggest drive this year was the resolution to beat the Tutshill Tornados into dust if nothing else, and that was borne partially out of spite, and partially out of the expectation that despite the epidemic decimating his immaculately picked team, he expected them to do their damned best and shoot for the first spot on every leaderboard this year in the League. Some of his players had vast ambitions of going on to play nationally, but how could he help them tailor their training with their captain, or even mentor them in his free time, if they could barely pull it together for the League? The League was just as important as the Nationals. Sometimes, he even believed they were more important. He had had his opportunity to play for two different National teams and he'd turned them both down, he was that dedicated to Puddlemere, so he knew what kind of gruelling effort was required for it. No... no, he wasn't willing to help push any of them on to the Nationals until they had the season well under their belt, firmly secured for a win, for the first time in years. Show people that Puddlemere were renowned for a reason, and were a far cry from Ron's favourite Chudley Cannons in terms of having a chance at winning.

It all came down to determination, communication, concentration, dedication, skill, time, and effort. On the surface, it might have appeared like a lot of factors, and technically it was, but they all worked hand in hand with one another. Without either one of these, the team were going to fall short of the mark and potentially throw away not just a single game, but their shot at the League cup. Oliver couldn't bear to see them do so badly. He could feel his old manic self rising again, rearing its hysterical head, threatening to draft up new training regimes for their Captain to help him push them through. Earlier mornings, longer training sessions. Less frivolous activities that could risk an injury they couldn't afford, less drinking. The other part of him that worked as a broom designer was beginning to base his new ideas and project on how his team played so that it could better them and fly them to their goals. Tailoring their knacks to its handling, pick up the slack they kept creating when they had a lapse of concentration. Better balance, a more solid yet lightweight frame. He was throwing everything he had at it and at his team. They were basically the closest thing he had to a family... of course he wanted them to do well. They were everything. Puddlemere was his life.

Perhaps he was preaching to the choir, or else his words were falling on deaf ears. He would soon see by the conclusion of tonight after they'd all gone home and they couldn't practice anymore before their game tomorrow... their pre-season qualification. Was he nervous? Of course. Was he excited? Hell yeah. It was hard not to be, when he was standing this close to another game of Quidditch, especially after the scare last year when the season had been cancelled prematurely and everyone was left wondering whether they'd ever get to play again. In fact, he felt as giddy as a school kid. A Hogwarts school kid, waking up on a Saturday morning before a Gryffindor game, uncaring of the smell of o-zone outside from a storm or blazing sunshine that threatened to sweat them to death before they made it anywhere. The loud din at breakfast, the sea of colour heading down to the pitch by noon. It still got him, even now, except he had breakfast alone. "I'm fairly sure, since they just about have it down now," he replied thoughtfully, peering out the window at their team and sighing contentedly to himself, "As always, I believe in them out there, to do the best they can. And they're shit-hot players when they put their minds to it, so yes. Yes I think we're gonna win. I'm putting every bit of faith in them that I can."

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690 Words | @natasha  
TEMPLATE BY ELIZA @ SP ADOXOGRAPHY