It wasn't quite that often that Charlotte went to Godric's Hollow. In Dimitte's infancy, several meetings were held in some small abandoned house in the small town, but after it became clear that Dimitte wasn't an entirely welcomed movement, the meetings tended to change location every time and became a tad more sparse throughout the years. Communication by parchment was more reliable sometimes. In any case, it had certainly been a while since Charlotte had been in Godric's Hollow, and last time she was there, she went to the Royal Oak Pub for drinks. But today, she was a professional. Today, she was going to The Coffee House to meet with an old schoolmate and quite possibly her next published article. Well maybe. Freelance journalism could be a bit of a wild card, really. There was no guarantee that something you wrote would be published, so Charlotte had to rely on her merit as a writer for the most part.

Charlotte took the two steaming mugs of coffee from the barista with a polite nod and headed for a table in one of the corners of the coffee shop by the front window. She set the mugs down on the table and settled into one of the two armchairs at the table. Charlotte's purpose for visiting The Coffee House was to meet up with one of her old schoolmates, Jaxon Jameson Cole . Ever since his switch from the Arrows to Puddlemere a couple months ago, he had appeared in Witch Weekly several times and Charlotte was just so intrigued by... well, not bloody much, really. But a woman had to write her articles and make her money, and Charlotte had known Jaxon quite well at Hogwarts. They had a small Quidditch rivalry that commonly manifested in the form of flirtatious banter, but he had truly never done anything to rub Charlotte the wrong way. So, when Charlotte was frantically brainstorming for article ideas, she had decided to send him a letter and see if he was up for an interview. If she could take a different perspective on an overdone topic, then maybe her article could end up in the Daily Prophet - and that would be a benefit for both of them, really.

With a sigh, Charlotte extracted her journal and a self-inking quill. She had jotted down a few ideas, but she could only begin to flesh them out once she actually started talking to Jaxon. Besides, this would be interesting - the last time they truly talked was in her sixth year. Other than that, she would see him around when visiting her brother, Nathan, at an Arrows practice, but those encounters wouldn't go past a hello. She was curious to see how much he had changed since Hogwarts. Charlotte took a small sip of her coffee before looking around the coffee shop for her interviewee. When her eyes landed on him, she raised an eyebrow and smiled lightly. "Well, you're certainly a sight for sore eyes," Charlotte greeted once Jaxon was close enough to her. She stood up and extended a hand for him to shake. Jaxon had always seemed like quite the flirt, and while she was certainly in no position to judge, Charlotte would have to at least try to keep things as professional as possible.

Outfit

Jaxon arrived at the coffee shop later than he intended to. The seeker wasn't one to keep a lady waiting. He was more the type to show up early so he could be a gentleman and buy their coffee. But when he walked in, there the better looking Reynolds (no matter what Mr. Most Charming Smile might say) sat with two cups of coffee. Jax hadn't seen Charlotte in awhile. Part of that could be attributed to the seeker transferring to Puddlemere. But even before he had left the Arrows it had been a minute since he'd laid eyes on the lovely ginger.

The country boy had always kept his flirting to a minimum for him with the witch. Admittedly his minimum equated to a lot of people's maximum- but she was his buddy's sister. And no one wanted their sister spending too much time or really any time alone with someone who brought so many to his bed. In school he had gotten around, too, but he had always expected to settle down--seen himself with a wife a kids, maybe a farm. But that was a future he had let go of after being bitten. It was his lycanthropy that kept the person next to him in the mornings shifting every day. With the Ministry's abuse of werewolves and propaganda against the afflicted, he could never let someone get close enough to him to know or be placed in danger by what he was. Until public perception was changed, Jaxon would keep everyone in his life at arms length. He felt that loneliness and suffering extended to all weres. 

It was why he wanted to come forward. To show the public that those that shift each full moon were not monsters and explain that it was societal restrictions and prejudice that put werewolves on the other side of the law. He wanted to expose the Werewolf Control Unit. He wanted to do whatever he could to make Wolfsbane available to all werewolves who wanted it. He wanted the United Kingdom to see that just as there are evil, bad witches and wizards, there are evil, bad werewolves--but those wolves do not represent the majority of those afflicted by this curse. Jaxon hated the injustice facing his kind. Why couldn't people see that it was wrong? The only reasons he could come up with were apathy or lack of awareness and understanding. The Ministry was out there constantly promoting the prejudice and no one was stepping up to challenge that by offering any other perspective or opinion. He felt like he could be the one to do that--and not only because he had once had political aspirations for after his Quidditch career--but because he was likely the most famous werewolf in the UK, perhaps even Europe. The Ministry couldn't just snatch him up. 

Those ambitions were not the reason for this interview, though. Despite the fact the lovely ginger he would be meeting had a tendency to report on the more political, today was another Puddlemere promo. Since his joining, they had won every match...and every win at least on the surface seemed all due to him. Their keeper was shitsurely no Oliver Wood. But Jax had high hopes for the young fellow Hufflepuff that had been picked up as a reserve for the team at that position. If the boy could even keep the opponents from scoring even a third of the time, he would be better than what they had. Not that the PU chasers were much better...In their fourth match of the regular season, PU had been down 40-190 when he caught the snitch--and that game had been their shortest by far barely making forty-five minutes. It was only Fanny bludger-img the Mongrels' chasers to death that kept the score down enough for the 150 points Jax earned them to win PU the game. That one had truly been a nail biter. The witch had sent a Bludger at the Mongrel chaser that had been moving in to score at just the right time to cause the bloke's aim to be slightly off--all of which transpired in the same moment Jaxon wrapped his fingers around that little gold obsession.

The seeker was agile and unbelievably fast on his broom, but the slow, confident strut the man had when his feet were planted on the ground spoke volumes about the differences between him on the pitch and off.  Jax was all business when it came to his career, but took a much more laid back approach to life.  The dimpled grin he flashed at Charlotte when her eyes settled on his boyish face promised the man was trouble, but surely the best kind.  A wink of one dark sable eye was another inaudible greeting the seeker offer the witch as he made his way over to her.  Everything about the werewolf's gait screamed ego and narcissism-- back and head held straight, arms kept in natural motion with swagger of his broad shoulders, and his focus given only to Charlotte.  

A smoky chuckle rumbled up from his chest at the woman's first words to him.  "And you--" He drawled warmly as he took her much smaller hand in his with surprising tenderness--an inconspicuous testament of his chivalrous tendencies.  Jaxon was raise to be a gentleman--and for all the bad that might be able to be said about some of the more hedonistic indulgences of the man, he was never inconsiderate or duplicitous towards another person--especially women.  "I'm just a simple man---ain't even got the words in my head for what kind of purdy you are," the country boy promised.  His wide dark eyes bore such youthful innocence that it would be next to impossible to think Jax hadn't been completely sincere in his praise of the woman.  

"I'm glad ye owled, it's always nice when the person gettin' ready to write a story 'bout me is a friendly face--" Jax was completely comfortable--all boyish grins with that mischievous sparkle in eyes.  He waited for Charlotte to sit before doing the same.  "Unless you're sore at me over leavin' Nathan behind--and if you were I wouldn't blame ye.  I am pretty awesome."  Every comment, no matter how cocky, was delivered so casually and with in such a good-natured tone that it never really felt like Jaxon was bragging--nearly the opposite, if someone could actually be self-deprecating when referring to them-self as awesome.   "But I do miss 'im,"  the seeker twisted up his features into a pouty puppy dog face to emphasize his sadness over not having the other Reynolds as his teammate any longer.

outfit

Charlotte often prided herself in her composure. She liked to joke that it was a quality that would make her a great celebrity, because people could say what they want to her and she would be able to remain... how did the muggles put it? Cool as a cucumber? Well, that summed up Charlotte's personality under stress and in unexpected situations quite well. She was good with her words, and rarely spoke without confidence. Perhaps this skill was what made her a good journalist as well. In any case, there was very little that could faze Charlotte, and she was quite good at handling most situations with 'grace,' as her grandmother might put it. Well, her grandmother's exact words would be 'with the grace of a proper pureblood woman' but she was old and a little too traditional, in Charlotte's opinion, so she just accepted 'grace' as a compliment and ignored the rest of what her Mémé had to say because it was usually rubbish like that.

Anyways, it was her composure and the fact that she just knew Jaxon that her professional smile didn't falter. Although, there was no harm in having a little fun and catching up first, so Charlotte allowed herself a smirk as she shook his hand and calmly replied, "You truly flatter me. That must be something you say to all the girls you meet in coffee shops." She let go of his hand and sat down again, leaning back in her armchair and observing Jaxon for a moment. He seemed to be his usual self - all smiles and chivalry, and no shortage of flirtatious compliments. With any other person, this would've been surprising behaviour, but she knew that was just Jaxon's style. He had always been like that at Hogwarts, when they had spent more time together, mostly talking Quidditch like the rivals they were, but also because he was a friendly person - Hufflepuffs tended to be like that, when Charlotte thought about the friends that she kept close.

Still, she thought he seemed a little bit different somehow. Charlotte wasn't quite sure what it was, or how he seemed different, and since she wasn't the kind of person to rely on gut feelings over tangible evidence, she pushed the thought out of her mind to try to keep it from influencing her article too much. A journalist had to go into an article being as unbiased as possible, and in Charlotte's opinion, that was the hardest part of the job. "Well, I'm glad that you were so willing to meet up," she replied as she grabbed her coffee mug. Charlotte took a small sip as she listened to Jaxon and set down her mug before adding, "Oh, he's been faring all right on his own, although I will tell him you say hello." She had met up with Nathan for the first time in a while just a few days ago and since then they had been doing a better job of keeping in touch... still not good enough for siblings that were once close, but her life was little complicated, to say the least.

Dimitte and journalism seemed to get in the way of a lot of relationships in Charlotte's life, not just the one she had with her brother. She hadn't expected the passive activist group to be so unwelcome because they were just about the only voice in the wizarding world that wasn't shouting for blood. There were few things that still made sense nowadays, though. "So, before we get down to business... how've you been? I feel like it's been ages since we last said more than 'hello' to one another," Charlotte inquired as she leaned forward in her armchair and rested her elbows on her thighs. Recently, with her work schedule starting to clear up a bit and that open reporter position popping up at the Prophet, Charlotte had promised herself that she would try a little harder to keep in touch with people and mend whatever relationships had fallen apart. She supposed Jaxon fit into the 'relationships that had fallen apart' category.

"Ah, darlin', now, don't act like ya ain't special, now," the country boy drawled out--flashing another wide grin at the ginger. His charm played off his youthful boyish good lucks giving the seeker an air of mischievous innocence. Even after years of being a werewolf, there was still a naive, pure heart beating within the flirtatious import's chest. Jax settled into the seat across from Charlotte, leaning back casually as he got comfortable. He was a tall man--long arms, long legs, long torso. He rested a muscular forearm atop the table, nimble fingers rolling across the smooth vinyl soundlessly. He just never quite could sit still.

"Of course, I'd never thank of sayin' no to ye." Jax responded sincerely when the reporter said she glad he would meet her. He really would not have ever said no-- He was a nice fella--and he really did think a lot of Nathan. He drew the mug she'd kindly had filled for him close and took a sip as the witch spoke about his former teammate. He did not look forward to meeting the Arrows on the pitch again. He loved those blokes like blood. But he'd still have to beat them. He had a duty to his new team. "Thank ye much," was his rumbled replied to her saying she'd send his best along to her brother. Another grin came with the words, too....and a wink of his damn dimple--divoting his cheek as the corner of his full lips lifted.

Another slow drink of coffee gave Charlotte time to turn the conversation towards him--but not so far as to jump into the content of the piece she would be writing about him. He took his time enjoying the coffee--not one to rush anything in his life. It was good, too--- rich and dark. He hadn't added any cream or sugar--preferring the stout bitterness of the beverage to something sweet and smooth. Strong coffee reminded him of the men he'd grown up admiring--his pa and his papaw. Both Cole men drank what they'd called cowboy coffee---coffee brewed over campfires out in the Alabama woods with grinds right in the kettle. His dad has always joked about how he could chew the coffee Jax's grandfather brewed. There were no grinds in his cup today (and truly he was glad for that), but drinking the inky black liquid carried him back to the old memories all the same. A lot of things did--Jax made every effort to keep a strong hold on his old memories of his father and his home lands. They made who he was.

"Well, I surely can't complain," Jaxon promised--his deep country voice dragging out the few words into a multitude of seconds. The man talked so slow. It got on many a person's nerves, but he was not going to change his ways. He liked keeping things slow. It felt to him like it kept life from passing by too fast. It already moved plenty fast at the slow pace he tried to live at. Or maybe he just wanted to draw out the days between the full moons. It seemed the three weeks when he was decently himself flew by--and the days right before and right after the full moon were at least forty hours a piece.

"I been real good. Life's really blessed me." He meant that--everything about his demeanor emphasized him as being honest. His body was open to Charlotte. His eyes never wandering from her face--well, maybe for a second now and again, but only a few inches downward before finding their way back up to her full lips and bright eyes. Jaxon might have been cursed--and that did put him a danger and kept him from letting anyone get too close...but he still felt blessed. He saw the good he could do with his monetary contributions to the werewolves--and he was proud of that.

"And how about you? How you been, darlin'?" Jaxon leaned in a bit towards her as he made the inquiry---his body's subconscious action conveying his genuine interest. He wasn't someone who had to talk about himself all the time. Truly, he had gotten a lot better at guiding the conversations towards others since he'd become a werewolf---was often easier to just talk about someone else.

Working freelance had its difficult times. After five years of it, though, Charlotte had mastered its ins and outs. She knew what to during a particularly difficult month and exactly what kinds of stories to go after. Freelance journalists were often considered the bottom-feeders of the news world, picking up the scraps left over by the reporters that had supposedly 'made it.' It was meant as an insult, but Charlotte didn't see it as such. She was resourceful and observant enough to see what those apparently 'brilliant' journalists had completely overlooked, and if it weren't for freelance journalists like her, a lot would go unsaid in today's world. Charlotte had learned how to find the things that people didn't want to be found, and how to take a topic that had been completely overdone and make it refreshing and new. She knew how to make her articles stand out among the rest, because it was the only way to get noticed.

Part of being a freelance journalist, though, required her to appease the general public. And now that Quidditch season was fully roaring, those were the kinds of articles that appeased the public. Which was a shame, because as much as Charlotte enjoyed Quidditch, she wasn't a fan of writing about gossip and popularity. That was child's play, really, and she liked to do articles that required investigation. But at the end of the day, work was work and she was just lucky enough to know a good number of Quidditch players. She wasn't the type to write scathing articles, though, or focus on the superficial, and since that had been the theme for the majority of the articles on Jaxon, it left a lot of opportunity for Charlotte to write something different.

Charlotte smiled lightly at Jaxon's reply. "Wouldn't dream of it," she responded smoothly. He had always been the flirtatious kind, and while that had been good fun, Charlotte never was interested in getting herself involved in anything too... exposed while at Hogwarts. She had known how the rumour mill worked during her time as a student - mostly because she ran it, really - and didn't wish to be a part of it. Jaxon had always been too much of an attention-grabber to be involved with - for Charlotte's tastes, anyways. But she would be the first to admit that he was a fun person to be around.

"Never say never - the world is full of surprises," Charlotte said with a smirk, when her interviewee said he would have never said no to her. She knew better than anyone that things you never thought you would do could become very possible, seemingly overnight. Charlotte took a quiet sip of her coffee as she listened to Jaxon reply to her question. In a family of tea drinkers, both her and Nathan had ended up being the kind that would down a giant mug of bitter black coffee in a matter of seconds. It was effective for those long work days that quickly turned into nights, and Charlotte liked the strong aroma of coffee versus the... rather absent aroma of tea.

"Clearly, life has blessed you, Mister Rising Quidditch Star," Charlotte finally said with a grin. She set down her cup of coffee and added "Well, at least that makes one of us." His next question had been expected, really, but Charlotte still found herself stumped with the question. How had she been doing? As of late, everything had been all about work and Dimitte that she never really thought about that question. "I've had better days, personally - although I suppose it could always be worse," Charlotte finally replied, her smile faint. It was the usual rubbish from the Ministry, the usual family turmoil... nothing good, but definitely not rock bottom, either.

Jaxon gave the witch a pointed look when she offered very little in response to his inquiry about her life. "That is possibly the most vague answer you could have given there, darlin'--" Jaxon had not been asking just to be polite. He was interested. He cared about what was going on with other people. Even if he tried to keep those he actually cared about at arms length, he still wanted to know what was going on with them. Charlotte had never been the closest of friends to him, but he had a lot of love for her brother and had always gotten on well enough with her. His curiosity was genuine. He was not going to let her off with an answer like that.

"Now, come on, girl, give me somethun' real." Jaxon challenged, flashing another of his boyish grins at the ginger. Every word spoken drawled into the one following it. His few sentences stretched out so much further in time than if they had been spoken by most who lived in the UK. He was just never in a hurry.