Celebritiy Appearence

Charlotte was sat on a chair in the back room of Quality Quidditch Supplies. Her hair cascaded across her left shoulder in elegant curls. Charlotte gazed at her reflection through the silver hand mirror in her grasp: it made a change to have flowing hair as opposed to a braid or tight bun that she wore when on the broomstick. Admittedly shr rather enjoyed wearing a bun - it complemented her face - but knowing she could style her hair loose without it getting wrapped in her face was refreshing.

The sound of people buzzing like anxious wasps in the main room vibrated underneath the door. Today Charlotte would be making a celebrity appearance and what better place to do it than where she first started her career: Quality Quidditch Supplies. If it wasn't for the job here and talking to the Wimbourne Wasps manager as he came in for a new quaffles then she wouldn't have trailed out for the team, meaning she wouldn't have got a transfer to the Holyhead Harpies and wouldn't have just broken the record for most on target bludgers in a game.

Hopefully this will get me scouted for the British Squad Charlotte thought whilst reading over the speech she had prepared. It was going to be a busy day: first she was due to make a speech, then after that answer some questions for the daily prophet and other magazines before concluded with an autograph session. It was good to meet the fans, wimpy because they adored her and boosted her ego about how talented her flying was. Ever since she was little all she had wanted to do was fly and seven years ago, at the age of twenty three, she'd got her chance.

'The crowd is almost piled onto the streets!' A small stubby woman with tree trunk legs and porky arms gasped as she peered around the door. 'Excellent.' Charlotte replied to the worker of Quality Quidditch Supplies as she dressed into her Holyhead Harpies Quidditch Robes. 'TOPEZ' sparkling in silver on the back with a shining number six underneath and center.

Hallie had managed to sneak out of Hogwarts again. Luckily it was a weekend so she wouldn't go unnoticed. After travelling via floo powder from The Three Broomsticks to Flourish & Blotts she was in time for the grand appearance of Charlotte Topez. She wasn't the biggest Quidditch fanatic but it was something fun to do, besides, how often would she get the chance to meet a famous Quidditch player?

The seventeen year old didn't need to open the door to enter Quality Quidditch Supplies, it was propped open by a barrel of plush snitch's for children. Squeezing past an obese man with a grotty mustache she made her way to the back, emptied a box of quidditch gloves, turned it upside down and perched herself on it. She had a good view over the anxious crowd, which was now almost out the door.

After basking in her own beauty Charlotte placed the mirror against her assistants chest, letting go whether he had hold of it or not. 'Now. Should I enter on broom or not?' Charlotte asked, more to herself than the others. She didn't care what they thought, it was her appearance and her opinion what counted. 'No it will be corny and pathetic.'

Charlotte took a quick glimpse through the gap where the door stood ajar. The crowd was growing greatly. Excellent. The more fame she received the more chance she had at making the England spot - after all it wasn't just a sport decision it was a business deal. The England manager needed to make a winner time and most of all money! The more famous a player was the more revenue the club made from accessories. Charlotte would make a good figurine. 

'Okay. In five minutes I will walk out, oh and scratch your welcome speech I'm going straight out.' Charlotte Instructed to her personal assistant. 'It will seem too cheesy.' The Quidditch player added off-handishly to the owner of the shop who immediately agreed before leaving to the till where some confused foreign customers were ringing the bell, which could barely be heard over the chitter chatter. 

Hopefully my interview with the Daily Prophet will make the front page. Topez thought to herself as she closed her eyes painting the photograph of her face radiating up at the readers. 

Despite the personal thoughts of many, Rivah Trenton was quite the Quidditch fan. The woman was a good flyer, and certainly enjoyed watching the sport. The witch had heard that Charlotte, an acquaintance of hers, would be doing some sort of appearance at the Quidditch store in Diagon Ally, and had decided to attend.

Both young woman were considered fairly powerful and influential members of Wizarding society, and further shared the connection of being Death Eaters. Not that many knew that last fact, both of their carriers would be destroyed if that ever got out.

Easily cutting through the crowd and entering the back area where Charlotte was currently located, Rivah bit back a smile at the sound of the other witch talking to her personal assistant. "Hello Charlotte, you've brought in quite the crowd," the Ministry official stated, drawing attention to her presence.

Charlotte turned around as she heard someone enter the room, she was about to demand they leave and warn them that the back room was strictly for her perparations although her plan changed when she realised that it was Rivah Trenton, a fellow death eater whom she got on well with. Not that they were great fans, both had busy careers although at the death eater meetings Charlotte found herself getting on better with Rivah than the others.

'Hello, yes, so it seems.' Charlotte laughed. A real life this time, not her usual fake laugh to fans who she pretends to have an interest in. 'I'm hoping that I can keep myself in the media eye for a while.' She paused. 'Well, at least until the England trials.' Charlotte wasn't one to hide her ambitions to play for England in the upcoming world cup, if anything she thought her public interest would make her a more likely target for the scouts.

'Drink?' Charlotte asked as she poured herself a glass of Superior Red, a brand of red wine produced by the Malfoy family. Expensive and luxurious, Charlotte would not hold out for anything less. She would have demanded Elf-made wine but due to her racism towards half breeds and sub-species the Quidditch player wasn't fond of the idea, especially seeing as she hadn't seen where the house elves hands had been.

"No thank you," the blond responded automatically when offered alcohol. The witch was a bit paranoid when it come to getting drunk and saying things she wasn't supposed to. AS a result, the woman very rarely drank in public.

"Certainly," Rivah nodded with a slight grin, "make sure they can't forget you." The Department Head had been following the Quidditch Stats for a while in an attempt to see if she could figure out who would be picked for the English team before the players were officially announced.

Rivah, unlike most other Quidditch fans, was in a position were certain statistics and such were much more readily available to her. Especially considering that she had friends, or at least acquaintances, scattered amongst three different teams. In accordance to her current predictions, Charlotte had a good chance of being picked up by the English scouts, something that would certainly please the witch. The other Beater, Rivah guessed, would be Jack Dyllan, someone Charlotte certainly won't want to share the limelight with.

"I think you have a real chance to get scouted for England. And I know you'll hate me for saying this, but I think we're both aware that there's a decent chance of the other Beater being Jack Dyllan," the blonde told Charlotte honestly. Then again, it all depended upon if Jack accepted or rejected the position. That woman had always had a tendency to go for the unexpected option. For a period, Jack had been Rivah's boss, but the redhead had left to play Quidditch and a while down the line, Rivah held the job. While everyone in the department had adored Dyllan's fun-loving ways, no-one could deny that Rivah held the place together much better than the younger woman ever had.

Charlotte's eyes narrowed at the mention of her rivals name. She would hate to work with Jack, being on the same team. Maybe she felt this way because of the rivalry? Jack threatened Charlotte's possible position on the England Squad. If they kept one of the beaters from last year then it mean't there would only be one position. It was for certain one of the players retired. Perhaps if they were paired together then she could grow to appreciate Dyllan's talent. Only if she didn't steal Charlotte's limelight.

The witch had dreamed of playing for England ever since she was little and rode her first toy hover broomstick. Dyllan's ambition didn't seem to match Charlotte's. Her dream wasn't a dream it was something she would make into a reality, even if it had mean't working in Quality Quidditch Supplies for two years out of Hogwarts before being scouted as a substitute and working her way up to breaking a historic record.

'As long as I get a spot I don't care. I can deal with Dyllan.' This was true, Charlotte would be able to handle sharing the position but if Dyllan got the beater position over her. No. That couldn't happen. It wouldn't.

The personal assistant nodded to Charlotte, signalling her introduction. Taking a deep breath Charlotte grinned at Rivah before sweeping through the door into the store where a raised platform had been conjured for the event.

'Thank you all for coming here today, it gives me great faith that you all still believe in me as my career continues to grow.' A round of applause was issued from the crowd and a grubby photographer snapped a photo of her in a blinding flash. Charlotte allowed a sleek smile slide from the corner of her lips, enjoying her moment being center attention. Someone from the crowd wolf-whistled. 'I'll bat that right back at you.' Topez responded playfully, humoring the crowd. She'd done that for the past seven years. Please her audience, even if she really was completely revolted by the appearance of the wolf-whistle culprit.

'I am honoured to have broken the record of most accurate bludgers per game and to return here, to Quality Quidditch Supplies, where I started my career. I would love to say that my fortunate time as a Quidditch player is down to luck, yet I can't, something the Daily Prophet seemed to have highlighted in their recent article upon my record breaking flying.' This last sentence was spoken with disdain. 'I admit I was lucky that the captain of Wimborne Wasps happened to be shopping in here and mentioned to me the trials and invited me, yet it was my pure talent and determination that drove me to success in the trial and then later in my career.'