Men Can Ask For Directions Too (Lucy)

Wow. Colton had made the decision upon his arrival that the British Isles were incredible - cold, but incredible. But that awe was multiplied as he stepped into the over-large atrium that served as the entrance to the British Ministry of Magic. Colton, despite his face being relatively well known at this point, was from a small town, and a small country, and had never seen anything like it before. He walked absentmindedly across the large expanse of marble floor, taking in every bit of the place. To either side, the walls were lined with fireplaces, which people flitted in and out of every few seconds. In front of him, a huge fountain spouted impressive jets of water. This was the reason that Colton had come here - the reason he'd left his tiny town behind.

Once he'd taken in his surroundings to the best of his ability, Colton had no choice but to divert his attention back to the reason he'd arrived. He had to get a few things sorted out with the Department of International Magical Cooperation, since he was coming from such a far country and staying pretty indefinitely, considering that he was the newest recruit on the Ireland National Quidditch Team. It shouldn't take long, once he was there - but finding his way there was another problem altogether. He squinted down at the paper in his hands, on which he'd written down the directions he'd been given, and started heading toward what he assumed were the lifts.

What did that say? Colton had the worst handwriting, and he had to get his face closer to the paper to try and interpret it. Floor one or seven? Or neither? Still walking while trying to figure it out, Colton wasn't really paying attention to where he was going and wound up walking straight into someone. "Sorry, so sorry!" he muttered instantly, looking up immediately. It seemed that he'd bumped into a young woman - she looked about his age actually. "Er, sorry again - but since I bumped into you, do you think you could tell me how I can get to the Department of International Magical Cooperation?" With any luck, this girl wasn't some clueless foreign person like him and would be able to offer him some guidance. And with any luck, she wouldn't recognize him and ask him to sign some awkward body part of hers - nothing was more uncomfortable than when a girl came up to you and asked you to sign her.

Lucy had her eyes fixed on the letter in front of her. For some stupid reason, Ryland wanted to meet with her now. After a whole year of not talking to her, not even writing to her, he wanted to see her. Well, fuck that. She glanced over the words that looked more like desperate squiggles, and for a moment Lucy thought about replying. But she soon turned her attention to some children running around by the fountain. They looked so happy and innocent, and Lucy wondered at what moment all of that innocence was lost. Then she remembered Hunter, and knew the answer to her own question.

She glanced back at the letter, because maybe she could heal a little bit of what was hurting her brother, because she knew that there was something he wasn’t telling her. So reached inside her purse, trying to look for something she could write on and write with. She had decided to reply to Ryland. Her mind was so focused on trying to find anything, a quill or maybe even a muggle pen, but she had none. She only had a marker she had used on a letter she’d written to her father a few days ago. Her hands reached into every compartment of her purse, her gray-blue eyes fixed on the many trinkets she had in there. She’d probably have to clean it soon.

Holding on to the paper and to a lot of other random things, Lucy bumped into someone. Her purse almost fell to the ground, almost spilled everything in it, but it didn’t. It didn’t because Lucy caught it after doing some weird hand gestures and tricks. For a few second, her hands were made of some sort of weird stuff she had never seen. It must have looked silly, but she was more worried about nothing spilling out. Whoever she had bumped into was apologizing, a guy. “Don’t worry. It was both our faults.” she tried to smile as she put everything back in her purse, then she looked at him. Really, looked at him. Not listening to his question, Lucy became an instant fan girl. “Wait, wait. You’re Colton White!” she exclaimed. She’d always liked Quidditch, so she knew some of the players, but Colton was one of her favorites because he had been blessed with physical beauty in ways others had not. “Wow, hey can you do me a favor?” she asked excitedly, taking out the marker from her purse.

Colton raised an eyebrow as he watched the girl try to recover her purse after the impact. A slight smirk formed on his lips as he tried to keep from laughing - it was a bit comical, the way she kept fumbling to catch it. Colton wasn't sure what it would be like to have such lacking coordination - his entire job was coordination. Coordination and reflexes. Clumsiness had always somehow avoided him. Though, as though to make up for it, he always seemed to manage to get himself lost. At least the girl seemed to be a good sport about it, and wasn't going to get angry with him over it. "Nice catch?" he offered with a tone of amusement.

But in the next second, his smile threatened to fall. Because the girl recognized him instantly. Being sure to keep it carefully plastered on his face - because he was made immediately aware that the image he presented was very important, no matter how crazy the fans - he responded in a slightly less relaxed tone. "Er, yeah, that's me," he said, trying not to encourage the subject further because this girl looked entirely too excited about bumping into him. And then she was digging in her purse again, and Colton already knew what she was going to ask.

"Sure," he sighed, suddenly wishing that he'd run into some strange-looking elderly man who would have no place asking for his signature. The whole Autograph thing was a bit unfortunate actually because Colton had terrible handwriting. His publicist had actually given him a lesson herself on how to not make his autograph look like a troll had written it. Apparently, signatures were supposed to look nice. "Do you have any paper or anything? I'm sure we can find some..." Not that Colton really wanted to go on a paper-seeking adventure with her at the moment.

Lucy gave him a smile, "Believe it or not, I was the seeker for my House since First Year." The simple memory of it made her smile even bigger, but she stopped herself before he could think she was insane. She was probably the most normal person anyone could ever meet, with no weird talents or skills, just a talent for Transfiguration but that was in no way considered special. Noticing the awkward and forced tone in his voice, she added, "You should be thankful your name sparks a good kind of fame and emotion. Others don't have quite the same luck."

Obviously, she didn't want him to feel uncomfortable now that he was kind of a guest. England certainly wasn't his home, so things must be different and strange. "Oh, yeah!" Lucy exclaimed, brought back to reality from her thoughts when he asked if she had any paper. She dug through her purse again, but then realized that she was holding Ryland's letter and almost facepalmed because that was completely dumb. She handed it to him and started thinking of what she wanted him to write.

She could say something like "Sure, I'll meet the brother who didn't bother say goodbye!" or "Why don't you go suck a duck, Ryland?" but Lucy wasn't like that. She had never been like that. Thinking and doing were two different things, and if it meant she would get in trouble she was perfectly fine with just the thinking. Instead, she told him, "Okay, write Wrong person, buddy." If she was going to be prideful and pretend she had not read the letter, she needed a different handwriting.

"Oh yeah?" Colton said, a bit surprised to find that the girl had been a seeker. "I wouldn't have pegged you as a quidditch player," he told her. Though, taking another look at her, it wasn't actually all that surprising. She did have the build for it. "I'm a rotten seeker," he admitted. "Don't have the patience for it. Though, I've never had a knack for anything but keeper anyway." At least, on the bright side, Colton had an incredible knack for keeper. "Did you go to Hogwarts, then?" It seemed like everybody here had gone to Hogwarts, but surely there were others whose alma mater was elsewhere. But, judging by the girl's British accent, she wouldn't be one of those others.

He raised an eyebrow at her when she pretty much chastised him for his reaction to her recognition of him. "Depends on your definition of good and bad, I suppose," he told her with a shrug. "I'd imagine fame is pretty much the same all around - the only difference is how the famous person enjoys it." So, basically, all fame was bad fame - or, at least, all fame was obtrusive and irritating on a pretty constant basis. But there were many who preferred it - Colton wasn't one of them. Or at least, he hadn't become one of them yet. But it was becoming slightly less awkward to deal with, so that was something.

A moment later, she'd shoved a piece of paper into his hands, along with the pen, and Colton pulled the cap off, not even looking down at what he was about to sign. His autograph had become almost second nature now, and he didn't have to look to get it right. But then, before he could, the girl asked him to write something that wasn't his name at all. Hesitating, Colton looked up at her strangely. "Wrong person, buddy?" he repeated, confusion creeping into his voice. Finally looking down at what he was signing, he realized that it wasn't a normal, blank piece of paper. But seeing no reason to refuse, and still completely confused, he did as she asked. His handwriting was a bit more unreadable than usual, because he'd only perfected his autograph. Not the rest of the words in the English language. "What is this?" he asked her, handing it back to her. "And what's your name, anyway? I don't think I caught it before."