Red, The Colour of Desire

[Celestyn Helkovaara]

This was his first real job. His first full time employment as a daily prophet sports writer. The man was nervous to say the least, he knew very little of the woman he was going to have meet. He knew that she was his first interview, and a lot rode upon him doing this right. Which meant that poor Celestyn had barely slept the night before. He had sat up, learning all he had already known for years. If there was anything that could be said Celestyn knew all there needed to about Quidditch. It was his favourite sport. Of all the sports he had ever watched, both muggle and wizarding, he had found that quidditch was the one that he could always enjoy. One that never got boring, it was just a pity that he didn't actually know how to fly himself. He could watch it, but since he had never attended magical school, the opportunity to play had never been brought to him. It was only lately that he had even been able to get on a broom for the first time. Which for a sports reporter at a Magical newspaper was definitely something he hadn't brought up in the interview, or application process. He was young, only twenty one, he had plenty of time. This was however his first real job and he didn't want to mess it up. He had rent to pay, and food to buy. Thankfully, his job just about covered that. He just needed to be good at it. He just needed to not crash and burn. Which he actually hoped would be fairly easy for him. Since, he was sure that this first interview would be simple, from what he had gathered from his boss, it wouldn't be too hard. He had all the questions, all he needed to do was be able to ask them to her. He had been warned that she was a suspected veela, but, with little experience with them he wasn't sure what he was actually supposed to be looking out for, so he didn't have any worries, or so he thought. He was sure that this would go simply. Celestyn was completely unsure of how such a simple thing could possibly go wrong. he was a fairly optimistic guy, he liked looking on the bright side, so while he was stressed, his mind wasn't just playing all the possibilities where it went completely wrong. It played almost equal ways.

The room was perfectly set up. There was a small table, with two chairs, one for the quidditch player, and the other for him to sit at. He was happy to have arrived first, which was the norm, or so he heard. While still a young reporter the best image he had was the one he should be showing. He was dressed fairly causally, since he was just a newspaper reporter and not a muggle news anchor. he wore his usual old and faded jeans matched with plain white t-shirt. Just a very casual look. Nothing too proper, nothing that would make him stand out in a crowd. While fairly attractive at twenty-one, he wasn't someone who stood out. He was just there. He had a pen and paper set up beside him, as well, as two jugs of water, and a few glasses. There appeared to be more glasses than would be needed for just two people. The finnish man was sitting comfortable in the chair. He had already slipped on his glasses, ready to get start with her, now all he had to do was wait. It was odd for him to still be in New Zealand. A part of him had hoped he wouldn't get the job, just so he had a reason to leave, pack his bags and go back home to Finland, but he had gotten the job, and so had stayed. He loved quidditch, and there was no bigger paper in all of New Zealand than the daily prophet, he would've been the world's biggest idiot to walk away from a job like that. Despite the surprisingly poor pay and incredibly long hours he'd have to do. From what he gathered, the person he was interviewing was with the photographer, just getting a couple of images to stick with the article that Celestyn would write. He keep his eyes on the paper in front of him, while twirling the pen in his hand, just waiting. Waiting for this woman to turn up so he could do his job.
​

 

[Amelia Johnson]

Leaving Beauxbatons had been one of the hardest things the young veela had had to do in her life. She had been a lone wolf for as long as she could remember, and had made her way in the world. But Beaux had always been her shelter, her castle to return to from the storms of life. And now that was gone. Well, it had been gone for the past 3 years, and the transition had been hard for her, near impossible. The first year she had spent travelling the world, seeing sights and basking in the glory her beauty brought her. Having a veela for a grandmother was something Amy had always taken for advantage, and she pitied people who didn't have looks like her. She was vain, and arrogant, and a flirt. The young brunette had discovered how to manipulate people for her own gain and how to use them to rise in the world. Her next 2 years had passed fluently, including an offer and opportunity to join the Quibberon Quafflepunchers - France's top quidditch team. The team was an interesting one, and she enjoyed the games they played. The success of winning was satisfying, but she had yet to properly introduce herself to her team and get to know them. Of course, when she had joined she was introduced but she hadn't spend enough time with any of them to get to know them well enough. A small conversation and shouting across a pitch wasn't enough, even by Amy's standards. That was one of her new challenges, try her best to make a friend. She was going to focus her attention on Milena, the other female player, and see how it worked out with the guys on the team. That was for them to make an effort.

Amelia had been invited to an interview with a sports reporter, something about getting to know the latest team member. It was taking place in Oceania, so after getting dressed and ready in the morning in her apartment, the young part-veela had set out to a discreet spot to apparate. Apparation had come easily to Amy, something she had prided herself if and this enabled her the freedom to travel anywhere. She rarely used muggle transport to try and avoid the stares she got from anyone and everyone. They were pleasant, and nice sometimes, but most of the time they just got irritating. Muggle men seemed to think they stood a brilliant chance with her, no matter what they looked like and Amy found this irritating. So, she used apparation. Today, she was apparating to the address sent on the letter of invitation. She smirked at the letter, before folding it into the pocket of her jacket. She was dressed casually, not wanting to attract too much attention, but with a sprinkling of accessories that would hopefully help improve her appearance and encourage the reporter to write pleasant things about her. She didn't understand why an interview was necessary, and unsure of who would be reading it, she decided to just go ahead and be herself, and pay the price later if she played the cards wrong.

Arriving in New Zealand, the veela shook out her hair before stepping up to the building in front of her. It looked imposing, but holding her head up high, she pasted a veela smile on her face and entered. The receptionist was a young male who stood up when she entered and once she had signed in, showed her sweepingly through a door to where a photographer was waiting. Surprised that this was part of the interview, she looked down at her tight black skinny jeans and white heels before stepping onto the set. The photos took minutes and after following various directions to pose and look at things, Amy stepped away from the blinding lights and looked in a mirror, checking her eye make-up was still perfect. She had magically enhanced the muggle make-up to stay perfect for hours in different weather conditions so she could look perfect even after hours of playing quidditch. The photographer smiled at her before showing her seamlessly through a door to the right and to a staircase. She was directed up it to the room at the top, and ascending the stairs, she turned her attention to the thoughts of what to say for various questions. Amy had practised a few answers, and was looking forward to acting the part of the surprised interviewee. Knocking politely on the door, she put a smile on before entering. Inside was a young man, which surprised Amy, expecting an older, experienced man. This wasn't a complaint though, and the younger the man meant the better the charm she could put on. The veela smile played on her lips as she stood in the doorway, taking in the room that greeted her. Two chairs surrounded a table with a jug of water and some glasses on. Waiting for an instruction from the man, she started the conversation in perfect English, assuming that he was in New Zealand because he could speak the language. Her French accent was audible which she had been told added to her beauty. "You must be Mr Helkovaara? Or am I in the wrong room?" The question remained poised in the air, as the young veela hoped she had pronounced and remembered the name correctly.

 

[Celestyn Helkovaara]

The past few years had been fairly rocky for the young man. He had gone from living happily in Finland to living unhappily in New Zealand. He had gone from a life he loved to one he was only just beginning to enjoy. He went from having his independence to having to regain it. Losing the only family he had ever really cared about had hit the Finnish man hard. He hadn't had many friends to fall back on, and even less family, a lot rode on him getting this right. He had very little to fall back on, very little to show for what he had spent the past few years doing. Just his degree, and the writing he did in his books, well his personal journals. They were nothing too striking, or important. They were his day by day musings. Musings he assumed that would one day be able to be put together and he could pretend that he had actually lead an interesting life. However, currently it wasn't so. His previous days words had been filled with, pot noodles, high electricity bills and missed phone calls from his mother. The musing of a Finnish man with little money in the bank and a fairly low paying job were not as interesting as he wished they could be. He had spent the evening drinking his way through the bottle of Jack he owned, that while attempting to read up for this day. Celestyn was doing okay, but there was no denying the last few years had been hard, and he had been nervous. It was why he hadn't slept it off. Just gotten sober with coffee. Lots of coffee. He figured that a slightly alcoholic writer would be something fairly normal in his line of work. He was ready for this though. Ready to just get started on his job. Ready to interview this girl, and be able to write a good bit on her. He however wasn't sure what to expect. His reading the night before had mostly been about the game. Not about the girl. It was an expose on the entire team, and he had been chosen to do the interviews. This was the first of a few, so he had read up about the team, how they were playing all of that. Though his instructions did include asking a few more personal questions. He stood up as he heard the woman enter, asking if he was Mr. Helkovaara, that sounded really odd said in a french accent. Smiling he looked to his feet before saying, "Yes, but it's just Celestyn." He said, looking up at the woman in front of him, and to say she made him speechless was putting it lightly. The girl was stunning, he felt like he had seen beauty in it's most true form. He felt his cheeks flush red, and he felt embarrassed thinking that his much harsher Finnish accent didn't fit with her. He walked around the table and pulled out her chair.

"This is the right erm.. room" He muttered, fumbling over his words. While he was able to write english, his English wasn't perfect. He'd only been learning it for the past two years. Having first refused to when arriving in New Zealand. He made his way back to his side of the table, motioning for her to sit. He sat down himself and managed to knock the water filled glass, breaking the glass as it hit the table and sending water everywhere. Celestyn shot glances up at her, as he picked up the broken glass pieces with his hands, moving them off the table. It didn't even occur to him to use magic. He was stammering his apologies, half in English, half in Finnish. He cut his fingers in several places but ignore it. They didn't bleed much, but it was a little painful. "I'm so sorry, I'm not usually this clumsy." He didn't know what was going on, this woman was causing him to be completely flustered. She was stunning, she made him nervous. This would be what he had been warned about. Celestyn cursed himself internally for not paying more attention to them. After cleaning the water up, he looked up and flashed a small shy smile. Trying to regain his composure "Right, Miss Johnson, shall we get started?" He asked, his voice quiet as he kept his glance on either the paper he would be writing on, or the table. Only ever briefly glancing up. This girl made him feel like he was a young child meeting someone he didn't know or trust yet. But, Celestyn wasn't like that, he wasn't the friendliest person, or the most honest person, but he wasn't this shy, and he certainly didn't get this flustered by normal woman. She was just, a ray of incredible bright sunshine. He wanted to be with her, but knew it was not up to him. "First of, the Daily Prophet would uhm, like to thank uhm you for doing this." He started, "And, erm..my first question is uhm, why did, no sorry wait, what uhm, made you chose uhm a profession in quidditch?" His accent was thick, it wasn't as harsh as he imagined it was, but it certainly did him no favours as he tripped over his words in an attempt to get the control of himself back. This wouldn't be as easy as he'd first lead himself to believe.
​

 

[Amelia Johnson]

Amelia smiled at the man as he introduced himself as Celestyn. So far, the interview had gone well, she thought to herself, finding herself satisfied further by his reaction to her and her looks. She was used to it, but still basked in the glory it brought her, and the reaction she was able to provoke. She could take it so much further, that wouldn't even be an issue to her, but the situation would be wrong for the interview. She didn't want her team members catching wind of it and using it to their advantage, or mocking her for it. Feeling the veela blood stir in her veins, she smirked as he went a shade of red and came to pull out her chair. It was a sweet act of a gentleman, Amy noted, whist trying to pinpoint his accent. A smirk played subtly on her lips as he spilt the water over, but she remained patient and even went to her pocket to find her wand in offering to help. But, this Celestyn insisted on cleaning up in the muggle fashion, and so Amy replaced her wand in her pocket and watched him carefully, trying to figure out the man. Over the years, the different relationships or experiences with men had taught her that although every one was different, they all fell into similar categories. And now it was her time again to figure this man's category over. He seemed sweet and attentive, but the young veela wondered if there was something beneath the surface. She waved away his apology with a flick of her wrist, smiling at him. "It's nothing to worry about." She added, her voice soft and gentle yet powerful. Something about her genes had given her the ability to easily mould her voice to the situation and use it for effect. She decided to play the innocent, beautiful woman who was in love with her job and her lifestyle. Half of it was true, but as for innocent - the thought made her laugh. "It's Amelia." She corrected as the interview started, wanting to begin on good and equal terms. She nodded at his thanks, wondering how the correct way to respond would be, and listened to his question. Pausing to consider the answer before responding, Amy tapped her fingers on the desk. "Well, I guess it would be from the days of playing quidditch at Beauxbatons. I loved it, it was freeing, releasing and a way to find myself and spend time alone, in the air, whilst playing a game." She paused, having released the first bubbles of the first response, and now thought about the answer the team would want to read. "It's a thrilling game, with so much to think about and consider, and I'm so honoured to be playing for France's team." She stopped, looking down and wondering if there was any more to add. Deciding that that seemed to be enough for now, she smiled again and looked up at the young man, scanning his face to see if he had fully understood and she had said vaguely the right things. However, if his questions continued in the same, slow way, Amelia recognised that this was going to be a long, long interview.

 

[Celestyn Helkovaara]

Celestyn, who was so used to not having to use magic for things, was just in the habit of doing very little with magic. It was something that existed in his life, but didn't change anything. It was useful, it meant he could achieve more, but he still did a lot of things by hand. Which was why he chose to not do any magic in this room so far. He felt threatened by her, and the sheer beauty that she was. He couldn't understand what was happening to him, he knew his hands were all sweaty, and that his breathing was not as even as it should be. He wondered if it was just that he thought she was so incredibly attractive and needed her in his life. Though this was a job, and he very much doubted that his boss would take too kindly to him if he tried to ask her out or anything of that sort. Instead, he just attempted to focus his brain on the much bigger issue. Well, more the issue that he was going to have to try to get through the entire interview without f##king up again. Since he knew that if this went, truly horribly wrong and she told people, he would be a joke, and well, probably out of a job. Which was the exact opposite of what he actually wanted to happen. he loved his job, so far, and well he wasn't interested in giving up for anyone, or anything. He would push through, and then at the end, everything would be fine. He gave a small smile, as like him, he said his first name, this was a polite, but relaxed interview, there was no real need for formalities, just Celestyn enjoyed them. He nodded and gave a very small smile.

As she answered his question he nodded, writing what she was saying in short hand on his little notepad. It would appear to be a series of lines and symbols, but it made sense to him, and to anyone who had ever intensely studies media, and journalism. He liked the idea of people starting out in school and working their way up. He thought it was a nice idea. Sure, most wouldn't really make it, but some always did, like with anything. The reporter made a last change as she stopped talking. He looked back up at her, and his cheeks once again flushed a deep red colour. "The French team is doing very well right now." He kept his eyes on the paper, only very briefly looking up, "What do you, uhm.. think makes uhm.. a good quidditch team? Basically, what uhm..qualities are need for a team to work uhm..well together? Like France's uhm..team does." He was just trying to ask what she thought made a good team, what a team needed to be great. Which was difficult to get out, when he was worry about her, and everything like that. She made him nervous. Which was not a good combination for this. He took a deep breath, and continued on, "Did you find the team welcoming, when you first uhm..joined?" which he asked better than all the times before. Now, he just waited for her response, secretly hoping that she didn't hate him for how badly he was doing this. He would have to tell her, at the end that he usually is very good at his job.
​

 

[Amelia Johnson]

Amy looked skeptically at the man sitting in front of her. For a journalist who was supposed to be an expert in sports, he didn't seem to have very strong questions. But still, he was trying his best, and it wasn't his fault that he was so weak to her charms. She shuffled in her seat to find a better position and smiled again at him. "Well, I can't tell you our tactics now, because if you publish them, that wouldn't be good." A pause followed, in which Amelia tried to decide how far she may have to go to get a good report made about her and the team. Quidditch meant everything to her, it was the only aspect of her life other than her looks that she took care over. "But I guess the general skills are needed... communication, the ability to predict your teammate's move and match it. And then getting along well with each other, because it is no fun flying up there with people you disagree with." She laughed, a soft, musical sound that filled the room. Smiling inwardly at the effect she was having, she raised an eyebrow at the next question. Another pause filled the room, whilst the young veela tried to find the right answer. "The team are very good, and we play well together. But I haven't been in the team for long so I guess I don't know them as well as I would like to." Frowning as she repeated her phrase in her head in French, she checked that she had made sense. Looking down at the table, she studied the ends of her nails before smiling through her eyelashes and looking up at Celestyn again. He wasn't bad looking. Obviously, compared to her, he wasn't goodlooking, but Amelia was used to that. Veela boys seemed mostly arrogant when it came to dating and didn't seem to pay her the compliments that normal men gave. It had perturbed her and so she had stopped dating those people. She replayed the interview over in her head whilst waiting for another question, and decided that the small lie she had inserted about 'getting along' was subtle enough to fly under the radar of anyone who knew her well. Although, the thought of that twisted her smile into an ironic smirk, as no one knew her very well. Amelia could be a social butterfly when it suited her, but she was very content to keep her private self, well, private, for now.

 

[Celestyn Helkovaara]

It was difficult to stay concentrated he found, and this was going from slight stumbles to just plain embarrassing. He had no idea why this was happening, his friends all talked of him as this great person who managed to keep face no matter the situation. He was glad to have this opportunity, and glad to have this job, but if he messed this up too bad, he wouldn't be able to keep the job at all. It was unfair. He wasn't sure why this so hard. He didn't want it to get worse, but it was bound to. He couldn't find the words to explain why he was suddenly so speechless, so breathless. He had been confident up until that point. He couldn't find the english that he'd gotten so good at. In the back of his mind he was very much aware that she was not feeling the same pressure as he was. She was going to think him an idiot, and he knew he was from that. She would be able to leave this interview and be fine, unlike him, who needed this to pay this month's bills. To be sure that he could keep his apartment and keep living the way that he was living. He knew that it wouldn't happen, he wouldn't lose his job over one interview that was really only going to take up the back page of the daily prophet. He was happy to be doing this, but something about her made it very difficult for him. He didn't mean it in a bad way, but he did have a job to do. He gave a small smile as she replied to all of his questions, of course he wouldn't ask tactics, but it had been a very general question, which he had been about to explain, when she did it for him. Going into slightly more detail about what she thought. He let his quill take notes, as he read over them, to be sure that it was correct. He was sure that Amelia would make a great addition to the team she was playing for. He liked the team, they were doing well, hence why they were doing a bit on her, and the team in general. "That sounds good" Celestyn briefly looked up at her, "The team is doing very well this season." He was talking slowly, very carefully picking his words. Very carefully saying them. The finnish accent was thicker than it would be normally, it gave his voice a much deeper tone to it. "Now, Amelia, you attended Beauxbatons, do you feel the school's sports department helped in your development as a player?" He gave her a small smile, doing his best to this time, not slip up over words he knew he could say, "And your family, have they been supportive of your playing?"
​