League play didn't start for another week, but that didn't mean business didn't continue behind the scenes. Gwen had spent a few days a week at her office over the course of the holiday, mostly to meet with the manager and owners, but she'd been pulled to the stadium on her last completely free weekend for an interview with The Prophet. Publicity was necessary and she didn't resent it, but it was never something Gwen looked forward to.

When she heard a knock on her door, Gwen's eyes lifted from the league report her scouts had put together over the last month, unhurried. Another knock and her brow rose. Lovely. Smoothing her face of any expression, she called, "Come in."

Lavender, quill and notebook in hand, turned the doorknob and looked around the office. She'd gotten the bad end of the deal. Maybe if she'd spent more time in school flying around on a broom, she'd have an office this nice as well. To each their own, she thought. Her father had said that enough as they'd been growing up. "Miss Jones? I'm Lavender Brown with The Daily Prophet. Thank you so much for meeting with me today."

"Lavender," Gwen greeted, indicating the chair across from her desk. "It's good of you to come. Is there anything you would like? Tea, perhaps?"

Shaking her head, Lavender took a seat. She'd learned early on not to accept drinks during interviews. Absinthe. Never, ever, ever again. "No, I'm fine, but thank you." She let her bag sit next to the seat, near her legs. She never really let it out of her sight. Too many of her things were inside to do so. Lavender grinned up at Gwen, hopefully discreetly taking in the older one's features. She was beautiful, and yet again and not for the first time, Lavender was silently cursing the fact that she'd never been interested in sports. Maybe she'd be as lean and fit as well, flying about on a broom all day long.

"Would you mind terribly if I asked you a bit about how you got into the game? How it started for you?"

Lips quirking at the corners, Gwen sat back into her chair, hands in her lap. She'd done years and years worth of interviews and press conferences and the same questions always seemed to come around repeatedly. It amused her, which was a relief from the slight irritation she'd felt at having to do the interview at all. At least she wouldn't have to make an effort to mask anything away, for now.

"I love to fly," Gwen answered, pausing briefly as she watched the woman across from her. It was the standard answer of most any quidditch player you talked to, whether it was true or not. In her case it was quite true, but it would probably irritate the young woman nonetheless. Lips twitching again, she continued, "It was a passion of mine as a child," because it's the only thing that stopped me from thinking or wishing that I was good enough for mother and father. "I didn't choose seeker, per se, but it was the one thing I could do on my own - chase the snitch. I got very, very good at it," not to mention a very unhealthy appreciation for risking my life for the chase, the thrill.

There were bits of her story that any magazine or newspaper would love to have, but Gwen was perfectly content to give them the bare minimum drivel they needed. Her flying and her team's success spoke for itself and she made sure they got the right publicity, not her sad, sordid little tale. If she ever saw her true childhood blinking across a headline, she knew enough people to make sure whoever wrote that story never worked again.

"I had no trouble making the Slytherin team while at Hogwarts, despite the fact that it was traditionally male. They wanted the best, and I was." Gwen kept her face pleasant, but she was sure that her answers were not what the young reporter was looking for. She was not of a mind to make someone's career this day, however. "I had many options for a career coming out of Hogwarts, but I couldn't pass up the opportunity to do something I truly enjoyed on a daily basis. Thus we find ourselves here," she concluded, allowing a small smile to soften the rudimentariness of her story.

Lavender nodded, jotting down the information. She'd have to do some research, see if Jones had been a part of any particular achievements in school. Obviously she had, as she'd gotten drafted right out of school, but statistics would be useful, no matter how boring they were when read.

Looking back up at Gwen with a considering look on her face, Lavender continued with her next question. "What is it about the game of Quidditch as a sport, other than the flying, that excites you? Several other captains had said it's the strategic essence of the game, of trying to outmatch your opponent and anticipating what they're next move is. I believe one of them said 'getting in their heads' for an example. Is it simply your love of flying that interests you, or is it something more?"

Gwen regarded the woman across from her for a long moment. There was only so much she shared, and for her these questions were deeply personal, things she didn't share with just anyone, let alone the press. Before the silence stretched out too long as to seem obvious, Gwen spoke. "It is flying, at base, that has brought me to the game and kept me here. Beyond that, I am committed to the team, the girls. This is what I've devoted my life to," she finished, opening her hands to indicate the office, but where they were as well, the stadium, the Harpies, quidditch.

Perhaps the deal she'd tried to make with Oliver wasn't really in her favor after all. She wasn't getting much from Gwen, but she really hadn't expected to. She'd say it was perhaps because she was talking to another female, but Lavender knew better than to imagine that Gwenog Jones, super seeker and captain for the Holyhead Harpies, was in any way intimidated by a much younger reporter. Smiling, knowing it probably looked a little forced, Lavender nodded. "Another angle the article might take is how you saw Quidditch as a relief during the Second War. Do you think it was, and if so, how?"

Gwen took note of the tight smile the young reporter was forcing, not perturbed in the least. Though she considered her next question a moment and gauged that it was something she could answer a bit more candidly. "I believe that quidditch is an escape all the time, but especially during the war, yes. People come to the games to lose themselves in something beyond them, if only for a few hours, something enjoyable and quidditch most definitely provides that. Though there had been public talk of shutting down the league during the darkest hours, but I do believe it was one of the better decisions made to keep it running, for people to look and see that some things were still normal - a certain kind of hope, yes?"

Glad for the recorder, knowing that was a quote that she would most definitely used, Lavender nodded. "I didn't follow Quidditch myself, but everyone I've interviewed has only spoken highly about the players, praising them for their support and their ability to make it fade for a bit."

Gwen's lips twitched in the barest of smiles then, amused. "Yes, the league does well in fulfilling it's purpose." She smoothed her features out then. "It is always gratifying to hear that from the fans nonetheless, especially in many people's time of need for an icon, something tangible, visible for them to put their faith, reassurance that the world was not falling down around them."

Lavender snorted. "Oh, I'm sure the world was falling down around them. It was falling down around everyone. It just helped that there was at least one thing constant, one thing they knew wouldn't change. Quidditch provided that." She'd said it off-hand, looking down at her notes. She wasn't sure if she'd gotten enough. She had a few more interviews, mostly with self-proclaimed biggest fans, and she hoped that'd be enough to beef up her article.

Brow raising slightly at Lavender's rather unladylike noise, Gwen watched her as she seemed to fade out into the notes in her hand. Unimpressed, she rose from her chair, smoothing out the pinstripe slacks she was wearing as she did so. "I do hope that this meeting was helpful to you Miss Brown," she prompted, quite done with doing her duty to the press for the day. "I'll look forward to seeing what you've written. And please, do send my regards to Barnabus," she finished as she ushered Lavender to the door.

Feeling more than a little unwelcome, Lavender let Gwen lead her to the door. She was quite used to being unliked by people. She was a reporter. She wouldn't have made it this far if she'd let getting rushed and criticised by people get the best of her. "I'll tell Barnie you send your love," she said with a smile. "I'm sure he'll drool at the very idea."

"Indeed," Gwen replied, face neutral. The girl didn't grate her nerves as some reporters had done in the past, but Gwen disdained that she had lost her awareness for the people around her, both foolish and impolite. And if Lavender's last comments were anything to go by, she had been a Gryffindor as well. Completely crass. Allowing just a bit of warmth into her voice so as not to betray her thoughts, she said, "Have a lovely day then, Miss Brown."

"You two, Miss Jones." Before she let the door close, she turned. "Good luck on your upcoming season, Miss Jones. I might become a fan after all of this." Smiling one last time, Lavender left, confident that she'd be able to write a complete article, and one she'd actually be able to stomach.


Summary: Lavender nabs another interview with a Quidditch Captain: This time it's Gwen Jones. Gryffindor crass humor and Slytherin world play and sneaky stuffs. Fun is had by all!