About a week after Sean first ran into Jenny, she sent him a memo and asked if he wanted to meet her for lunch so she didn't have to keep eating alone in her office. He met her in the cafeteria at half past twelve, grabbed a bowl of soup and a couple packages of crackers from one of the counters, and sat down to eat.

"So, how's your first week been?" he asked. It was weird seeing her out of her black Hogwarts robes.

She shrugged, squeezing a packet of dressing onto her salad. "Pretty dull," she said. "I mostly run copies and write a lot of memos, take care of scheduling... stuff like that. I'm still in training technically so I'm really just starting to do stuff on my own."

"At least you had training," said Sean.

"What, you didn't?"

He shook his head.

"How's that supposed to work?" she asked, frowning.

Sean shook his head. He hadn't talked to anyone about what a rocky start he'd had here. He couldn't tell his parents because they'd made the connection to get him this job in the first place and he didn't want them to think he was ungrateful. He hadn't wanted to complain about work to Evelyn when she had been so stressed about finding a job at all. Caiti would have told his parents, for sure, and Marlowe... well he just had bigger problems altogether.

"I don't know," he said. "I figure it out, I guess. I just have to stay late every night because everything takes me so long." He told her about the first few assignments he'd been given and how he hadn't known half the language his boss had used, how it had taken him hours of browsing through his predecessors files just to figure out what he was meant to do and then days after trying to figure out how to do it.

There was very little magic involved in marketing, Sean had found out.

"That sucks. Why didn't you just ask your boss for help?" asked Jenny when Sean had finished describing his first few weeks.

"I would have," he said. "But my boss is... I don't know. He calls me Champ all the time."

"Because of the tournament," Jenny clarified.

"Yeah," said Sean. And then, because it appeared this was not enough, he added, "He just makes jokes about it all the time, how I've proven myself to be quick-thinking and able to jump in without preparation. How I clearly don't need any help. He thinks it's funny."

"But it's not," said Jenny quietly.

"No," Sean agreed. "It isn't."

—-

"Ah, Champ's back," said Rhett loudly when Sean pushed back through the doors into the marketing department after lunch. His office — a real office, not a cubicle — was just to the left of the door. "Took your leisurely time today, didn't you?"

Sean stopped inside his office door but didn't respond to this. "Did you need me for something?" he asked, trying to keep his tone as polite as possible.

"Always need the Champ!" he said, flashing Sean a toothy grin and a wink. "Left a pile of data from our most recent focus group on your desk for you to disseminate before our strategic meeting tomorrow. Standard factor analysis."

"Got it," said Sean, who knew he would be here all night.

"Get to it, then," said Rhett and Sean retreated down the line of cubicles to his own. He sat down in front of the tall stack of papers that had been left for him to sift through — on top of another two or three projects he had not yet completed — and stared blankly at everything.

Maybe he would ask Evelyn to check the library for books on market research since she was there nearly every day now. But probably not, because then she would ask all sorts of questions about work and what his job entailed and Sean just didn't want to get into it with her. It was one thing to complain to Jenny who would commiserate with him. It was completely another to tell Evelyn who would care.

He looked at the one photo he'd put up on his desk, a picture of he, Evelyn, Caiti, and Marlowe that his mum had taken after the third task. Sean was muddy and sweaty and still holding that damn cup in his one hand with his other arm around a teary-eyed but smiling Evelyn. Caiti and Marlowe both looked positively jazzed, probably because they had still been laughing about Sean's accidental tree. He must have looked like such a prat through the whole third task. He hadn't had a clue what he was doing. The fact he'd scored enough points to win was truly astounding.

Thinking about the tournament now just made Sean mad. Some reputation it has given him. He put the picture face down and turned to the stack of papers. He had a distinct feeling that if he were anyone else, he wouldn't have been expected to get through all this on such short notice, but he wasn't about to show up to tomorrow's meeting with the analysis incomplete, even if he didn't know what on Earth he was supposed to be doing. So he searched through the old files in his file cabinet for some kind of report that seemed to be in the style Rhett had asked for and set out to mimic it.

—-

Sean was exhausted by the time he had to present all of his analysis the next day. He had stayed at the office until almost ten PM again and then Evelyn had wanted to tell him all about the art project she'd done with the kids at the library that morning which was really the least of Sean's concerns. He had barely slept a minute with his brain spinning the way it was.

Even now, he didn't have a clue if he'd done the factor analysis correctly.

Rhett went over a couple pieces of news and an agenda for the meeting and then he turned to Sean. "Alright, Champ's got a conjoint analysis to share with us."

"Yeah," said Sean hoping that it didn't matter that he didn't have a clue what a conjoint analysis was.

Rhett let Sean talk for about ten minutes, scribbling down notes on his clipboard all the while, before he interrupted. "Hang on a second here," he said, tapping the back end of his pen against his notes. He pretended to peer down at them like he had just realized something, but Sean had a sinking feeling that he was about to find out what a conjoint analysis was.

"You've done a factor analysis," said Rhett.

Sean knew better than to remind him that he had been specifically told to do a factor analysis. He kept his mouth shut and looked down at the notes he'd written himself for the presentation. He could feel the eyes of every person in the room on him.

"And I asked for a conjoint anaylsis. This isn't the right data, Champ. You were looking for the wrong things."

"I guess I misunderstood," said Sean. It was difficult to keep his voice from shaking, he was so mad. "I'll redo it."

Rhett made a big show out of sighing and slamming his pen down. He looked around the table at everyone, shaking his head. "Sorry guys. I guess we're gonna have to reschedule this one. Clear your calendars for tomorrow afternoon, alright? I'll have Linda send out a memo with an exact time by tomorrow morning."

And as everyone filed out of the room again, rolling their eyes and muttering things to one another, Rhett gave Sean a hard clap on the back and said, "Back to the drawing board."

Sean almost asked him if he was going to change his mind again about what kind of analysis he wanted, but he restrained himself, barely.

He was still fuming by the time he left work at eight that night, so rather than going straight home, he shoved his hands in his pockets and took a walk.

It was dark and windy and cold. It wasn't raining exactly, but drops of water spit at Sean's face from time to time, especially when the wind picked up.

He walked for almost an hour, barely looking where he was going. By the time he finally decided to head home, his fingers were numb, but his mind was just as busy as it had been before.

Evelyn was propped up against the pillows in bed, reading as usual, when Sean got home. She had a sticky green mask on her face and her hair was up in a messy bun on the top of her head.

"Oh," she said. "Hi, you're back." She jumped up and headed into the bathroom. "Let me just take this off real quick so I can say hi to you."

Sean didn't say anything. He just put his wand down on the bedside table and went back into the kitchen for a glass of water. He could hear the sink running in the other room. Evelyn came out a few minutes later, arms crossed over her stomach. Sean leaned over and pecked her on the lips because he knew she expected it. "How was work?" she asked.

"Fine," he said.

"You had to stay late again?"

"Yeah," said Sean, barely holding himself back from saying obviously.

"What were you working on?"

Sean opened up the fridge again and refilled his cup. "I don't really want to talk about it. I've been thinking about work all day."

"Sorry," said Evelyn. "Right."

Sean didn't say anything else, but Evelyn continued to watch him with her brow creased. "Are you alright?" she asked. "Did something happen?"

"I said I don't want to talk about work, Ev. I just want to relax for like ten minutes before I have to go to bed. I need to go in early tomorrow."

"Sorry," she said again. And then hugged him and it helped a little, until she opened her mouth to ask another question anyway.

—-

Caiti had just barely sat down for breakfast when a hundred or so owls had come swooping in with the mail. She looked up, always hoping for something from Marlowe, but there wasn't anything today.

She grabbed a piece of toast and started to spread a bit of jam on it when Amelia came skittering over from several paces down the table. "Caiti, did you see this?" squealed Amelia, clambering over the bench to sit next to her.

She shoved a magazine under Caiti's nose, a copy of Teen Witch, the gossip magazine Amelia was forever reading.

Caiti took it out of her hands, not immediately sure what she expected Caiti to react to. The cover featured a popular singer named Imani Lewis with big yellow letters that read EXCLUSIVE: SONGWRITING AFTER HEARTBREAK.

Caiti scanned the other feature articles on the cover:

Pregnant and HUMILIATED: Moira Williams Speaks Out!

Contemplating Divorce? An Inside Look at Steve and Maggie's Tattered Relationship.

10,000 Galleon First Birthday Party!

And then, second to last on the page, she saw it: Werewolves on the Quidditch Pitch?: Everything You Need to Know About the Chudley Cannons Controversial New Player.

Caiti's stomach turned over. "Oh no," she whispered, and she hurried to flip to page thirty six where the article supposedly was.

"I know!" shrieked Amelia, barely able to contain her glee. "Your boyfriend is famous!" They were garnering attention all up and down the table and even at the neighboring Slytherin and Hufflepuff table. As soon as she found the right page, Caiti put her head down to read.

Recently graduated from Hogwarts and just eighteen years old, Marlowe Finnegan's name would probably be gracing the names of every magazine on the rack regardless of his secret as the newest and youngest addition to the professional quidditch scene. With Finnegan's dashing good looks and a smile that's got us all swooning, he'd definitely have caught our eye with the Chudley Cannons announced this year's lineup.

But Finnegan isn't just an extremely talented beater (not to mention way too sexy in those orange Cannons robes!), he's also a registered werewolf. He was only bitten earlier this year (and we've heard through the rumor mill that he saved his girlfriend in the process! Juicy details to come when we've done some digging!) and was drafted by the Cannons several months later.

Diehard Cannons fans have mixed feelings about the new hire. Some are glad the team gave him a chance, but others, like 67 year old Hubert Parson of Cotswalds aren't so sure. "If they're trying to garner more public attention, this is like rebounding a curse back at themselves," he told our reporters last Tuesday. "This kid'll be more trouble than he's worth, you watch."

Former Cannons player Rick Chapman wasn't too supportive of the decision either. "Management's made one bad decision after another the past few years. This seems like some desperate attempt for publicity. Poor kid probably wasn't ready to be on the team at all, but they felt bad for him and threw him in there too soon just to get a couple news cameras out to see the team. Sell a few extra tickets. It's not going to go well."

Despite all the criticism, we're looking forward to getting a glimpse at how Finnegan plays — and learning more about that girlfriend we mentioned. For now, take a look at these snaps our team managed to get and send us an owl with your opinion! Rising star with a troubled past or sob story attention-getter? Let us know if you have any details on his secret girlfriend, too!

Caiti shut the magazine, her face red with anger. "They want to know about you!" said Amelia, practically bouncing up and down in her seat.

"Amelia, I swear to god, if you send them an owl about me or about Marlowe or anything at all, I will hex you right here and now and risk being in detention for the rest of the year," said Caiti. Amelia looked disappointed.

"Really?" she asked. "I just wanted to say that I know you and that Marlowe's really good and it's not a pity thing that he got on the team and that I've watched him play for years and how he was quidditch captain and everything. And how we were in the same house so I know him really well and how you and I share a dorm."

"None of it," said Caiti. "I'm not kidding. Just don't." She put her face down in her hands and took a deep breath. She hoped Marlowe hadn't seen the article, but surely someone would show him sooner or later. People had said such awful things.

She couldn't expect much else from a gossip column. Teen Witch was famous for twisting people's words and making up stories that weren't true, but still. Caiti didn't like the idea of people snooping around into Marlowe's business and especially not her relationship. She didn't particularly want to be known as the girl who's boyfriend saved her from a werewolf.

Still sitting next to her, Amelia took the magazine back. "Are you okay?" she asked Caiti.

Caiti shook her head. "Yeah," she said, despite herself. "I'm fine."

She lifted her head back up and picked up the piece of toast she'd abandoned.

"I won't send anything," Amelia said. She sounded sincere. "I get it."

"Thanks," said Caiti. And with that, Amelia went back over to her friends.