chaser-el:
When she had received an owl from Victoire shortly after breakfast with news of a pre-planned, non-refundable surprise date (with plenty of time to prepare because her ‘Future Cousin In-Law’ was no heathen and knew that a girl needed hours for such things), Eloise was ecstatic. Victoire definitely knew James to a tee because she also wrote that James should be informed at the last second lest he have a panic attack and talk himself out of a well-deserved date and into another bloody quidditch practice. The brunette wasted no time in laying out the dress and a pair of pumps that she had brought with the intention of wearing to the post-championship gala, but the recycling of the outfit would have to be her little secret with James. She took a long shower and spent a ridiculous amount of time on her hair and makeup with no detail overlooked. Eloise genuinely wanted tonight to be perfect. After all, how many chances does a seventeen year old witch get to spend a romantic night in Paris with her boyfriend?
When James opened the door, Eloise returned his smile immediately and took his hands in hers, swinging them slightly. She quickly noted how nice the few extra inches her heels gave her felt so she wasn’t completely dwarfed in comparison to him. “So, I was thinking that we should be selfish and take a night in Paris all for ourselves without the team. What would you say to cleaning up a bit then taking a stroll to that lovely little restaurant on the corner for dinner? A little birdie sent me a message that we have an all-expenses-paid reservation there.”
Eloise looked completely stunning. There wasn’t any other way to put it. James felt lucky to spend his time with someone so beautiful. Even when she wasn’t dressed up like she was at the moment, James still thought she looked stunning. He quirked an eyebrow as she took his hands in hers, but the reason for the dress soon presented itself. “Wait, right now?” James asked after a brief pause. “Yeah, alright, but, wait- shouldn’t I be the one asking you out?” He was half-joking. “I’ll meet you downstairs.” James said before pecking her on the cheek and closing the door.
Only a few seconds after closing the door did James begin to have second thoughts. They could run into someone that recognized them, and James couldn’t deal with answer questions or talking to someone. There had been lots of press about the Gryffindor team lately, but especially James. It overwhelmed him, quite honestly, and he wouldn’t admit it, but all the press was making him seriously doubt his career choice. He wanted to play quidditch professionally, but he didn’t want to be a professional quidditch player. He didn’t want all the fame and everything that went along with it. James sighed deeply. He hadn’t even started to get dressed, and he had already taken too long. He changed into a pair of nice pants, threw on a shirt and tie, and hunted down his suit-jacket. Last was his hair, which he spent the longest on. It was still a bit of a mess when he was done with it, but at least it didn’t look like he had just rolled off the quidditch pitch like it normally did. Fifteen minutes after closing the door to her, James met with El downstairs. “D’you think we’ll run into anyone who’ll recognize us? You look beautiful, by the way. Did I say that? I thought it. Where are we going again?”










