centuries | grey

[temperance elizabeth fleming]

some legends are told

some turn to dust or to gold

February 9, 2028
grey xavier slater

Temp rubbed her temples slowly, her fingertips moving in a circular motion. Inside her small office next to one of the recording studios, Temp tried to focus on the task. No matter how hard she tried to escape those pieces of her life, they would follow her like a sad little storm cloud. She would never escape the fame her father had built for himself as a professional Quidditch player. Especially when Quidditch didn’t hold as much sway in the States as Quadpot did. Sort of like how the muggles she knew obsessed over football but football here in England was an entirely different sport.

So she poured over names and teams and various statistics that made her head hurt. Which players would feature in what episode? Which one had the more compelling story? Which one had the most scandal? SNITCH’s 7 for 7 series aimed to create compelling stories. It was still early, however, so the producer hadn’t decided whether this would be something on the radio or a series of documentary shorts. And Temp didn’t mind the work. However, she did everything in her power to avoid Fleming appearing on any possible list of subjects.

But she couldn’t do it alone. A connection she’d made during her time at Witch TV had proved useful. Temp produced a lot of content relating to Magical Games and Sports. The International Gobstones tournament would never trump Quidditch in priority, so she sought out those knowledgeable in that area. Grey Slater was a sports journalist for the Daily Prophet. And they hardly competed, so nothing was stopping their collaboration. But he knew the numbers far better than she did and some of the missing pieces of history.

For example, what of Cornelius Hooch, the Chaser who scored the winning goal in the 1862 League Cup match? A match marred with vagrant rule-breaking where neither team had any pieces of uniform remaining by the end. Or what about Wilkie Twyhard of the Appleby Arrows, who shot actual arrows at the rival Chasers in 1894? She heard a knock at the door, and she responded with her eyes still closed. ”Come in.” Temp was surprised she could still hear with the high speed of words flung at her by Vivian Jordan for the past two hours. Finally, she opened her eyes. Oh good, right on time.

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Radio, television, print - over the last year it seemed like word had spread that the he was the man with the numbers when it came to Quidditch. Maybe it was because of how detailed some of the articles had become, a number of senior players approaching benchmark records on bludgers batted and quaffles quashed. A level of excitement had returned to the office, a place that was typically rather dull because all of the reporters were out on assignment in perpetuity, leaving him to filling out his spreadsheets and his editors looming over his desk constantly. They were coming around to it though. Apparently there were a lot of stat nerds out there, and they were writing letters to the Prophet about how excited they were to see these sorts of things in more detail. Grey's seemingly monotonous job suddenly became that much more important and the radio hosts and WitchTV were now asking for the same level of information.

That was why he was heading to the patter's office today. He hadn't gotten all of the information on what he was to do, but apparently they were doing a show on famous Quidditch players so it was his area of expertise. Who knew that he was going to become the de facto Quidditch historian like this? There were still centuries of notes and game reports to scrub through, but Grey was fairly confident in his knowledge of modern day Quidditch - meaning from the 18th century till now. Anything prior to that and the game differed slightly, at least by his own estimations based on historical accounts of the game. The fact that the sport had barely changed in all this time was fascinating. One of the only differences was the increase in safety measures, but it was still violent to the delight of many fans. Himself included.

After getting his visitor pass at the front desk of WitchTV, Grey was pointed in the direction of Temperance Fleming's office. He'd done a bit of research on the work she did to find out what sort of things he'd ultimately be needed for, but was infinitely more interested in her surname. Fleming was also the last name of one Theron Fleming, an American Quidditch player that had made waves during his tenure. Mainly because Americans weren't known for nearly as much enthusiasm in the sport as they were when it came to Quodpot. Knocking on the door to her office, Grey was excited to ask a few questions about that once their work was done. He'd feel remiss if he didn't.

"Afternoon," Grey bowed his head slightly in greeting to Temperance as he shuffled into the office. His hands were full of binders and notes, as well as the laptop the paper had given him to log everything into. The device alone was worth more than the Prophet realized, and he smartly had backups in case anything ran afoul with it. "Grey Slater. Heard you've got a Quidditch special of sorts and need some information?" That was the basics he'd been given, at least.

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[temperance elizabeth fleming]

some legends are told

some turn to dust or to gold

February 9, 2028
grey xavier slater

Temp opened her eyes and stood as he entered. He was tall and slim, with hands full of binders and things. ”Temperance Fleming. But please, call me Temp.” ’My parents were insane when they named me.’ Temp mentally finished her thought. She gestured to the chair in front of her small desk. With her wand, she cleared her scattered papers from a corner of the desk so Grey could put his things down. The papers neatly stacked themselves somewhere behind her. One day when she wasn’t a minion with a fancy title, perhaps she’d have a proper space for her things.

”Yes, SNITCH wants to bring back the ‘7 for 7’ series.” Temp began. The network was far more popular here in the UK than back where home once was. But last she heard, the numbers were going up as Americans realized they craved the drama of Quidditch over the repetitive and simplistic game that was Quadpot. The sport had never endeared itself to Temp, but perhaps her Quidditch player father had something to do with that. ”I had some ideas for potential stories. My boss wants to go big, so it attracts a lot of attention.” She searched through a folder for a sheet of paper, handing it to Grey. A very short list of names and events, stuff off the top of her head. ”I grew up around Quidditch, but I probably know as much as the average person.” She admitted. That was the part where she nodded absent-mindedly while making dinner and cleaning while her father paced in the dining room with whatever rambling story he had that day.

Temp knew she was asking quite a bit, but credit would be given where it was due. Surely as a sports journalist, he wouldn’t mind credit as a writer and consultant. She waited for a response or any questions, and after a few years, she learned not to appear too eager when working with the various aspects of production. If she could secure Grey Slater as her history and statistics buff, she just had to cast a few minor roles, and maybe she could take a night off for once. ”I figured we could start with some attention-grabbing names, or like the top-scoring Chaser of all time or something like that.” Temp threw out some ideas, the words coming out quickly. She’d yet to shake off that almost flat Californian accent, but her speech had always been fast. Any statistics he had would be fantastic because nobody could seem to find those around here. Temp needed this to go well.

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Temperance Fleming was indeed American, which all but confirmed that she was the daughter Quidditch phenom, Theron Fleming. Not that there was ever any doubt in that, since there were so few families in the magical world. He had sort of figured out years earlier that it didn’t take much digging to find that everyone was related to someone famous in some shape or form. Except muggleborns, but they always had a chance to start their own dynasty. That was sort of the brilliance of magic.

Grey’s ultimate goal was to not be too much of a geek in front of Temp. He had sort of gotten lost in his work over the last couple of years, quickly becoming a stat junky that was frequently reached out to by the Quidditch leagues and historians. Now the news sources were calling. “No kidding?” he responded immediately to hearing about ‘7 for 7’ coming back. “I used to listen to their broadcasts on the radio all the time before they made the jump to television.” Now he really didn’t have time to watch tv. Thus was the life of sitting behind his laptop screen almost 24/7. Those statistics weren’t going to log themselves after all. He had to keep up with the modern age as well as all of the centuries old recordings. The 1300s were quite the decades for Quidditch, having been recent enough with the introduction of the Snitch, as well as the Black Plague ripping through Europe. The amount of roster changes between each match was…telling.

He listened to Temp as she described the plans that they had so far. Having the show be as big as possible was to be expected. Now that matches could theoretically be broadcasted and recorded with the emergence of new technology, so much more was possible. His brain was already buzzing with potential interviewees. “Anyone currently playing or retired is game, right?” One of the first names that popped up was McLaggen. A dual-feature of Cormac, who was essentially his superior at the Prophet, and his son Mickey was easy to do. A bit of the old and the new. Bridging generations. “Are ghosts off the table? Or rather, is it possible to capture them on video?” He knew of one ghost Quidditch player that haunted a practice pitch he frequented. Grey was fairly certain it was Lester Woodwork, who ironically died amidst a horrible crash with the wooden stands. But he’d been an excellent player, and getting a ghost onto a television production had to be ground breaking.

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[temperance elizabeth fleming]

some legends are told

some turn to dust or to gold

February 9, 2028
grey xavier slater

Unlike the no-maj back home, who religiously followed their own sports, the magical world had very few to bad one another together. But the games the no-maj played all reminded Temp of Quidditch in some form or another. She figured the quantity and types of fouls in Quidditch would alarm a no-maj and make the violence of hockey or American football look like child’s play. So, even the least interested knew something about Quidditch. It was ingrained in their way of life wherever in the world they were. So, as much as Temp wanted to escape this one thing that she associated with her father—she could not.

Temp nodded her head, unsurprised that Grey was a fan. ”Even back home, people threatened to riot when SNITCH canceled it.” Merlin only knew what it might have looked like in countries where Quidditch was the only sport to play. In the States, Quadpot had quite a following. ”Yes.” Temp responded. ”They’ll probably want older players unless they’re some young superstar or whatever.” There never failed to exist some rookie player with a fanbase large enough to make any Team Captain jealous. Now, whether or not that fanbase continued only depended on their performance. But some flew as if they were born to play.

”Have you watched ’The Former Real Houswives of London’?” Temp asked. It was one of Witch TV’s most popular reality series, although Temp physically felt parts of her brain begin to shrivel up and die whenever she watched it. Fortunately, she only occasionally helped that production team. ”We have some ability to work with ghosts. It’s a matter of not accidentally finding a poltergeist.” So far, they’d gotten lucky with some close calls while the show was under development. But Temp only had heard some stories. ”So, what are your thoughts?”

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What was he even supposed to do with all of this knowledge? SNITCH coming back was like a dream come true, and he was being asked to help on it. Trying to keep himself composed while also showing that he could do the work requested was going to be difficult. Luckily he’d spent the last few years unknowingly doing the leg work that would be required to collect all of the knowledge needed for the show. A few simple clicks on his laptop and everything was right there in his database. An invaluable wealth of information that culminated in the history of Quidditch. He really should be awarded with an Order of Merlin at some point, because this was big stuff. “I mean, I’ve got entire lists of players dead and living…I know the past series focused solely on players, but what about announcers too? They’re absolutely part of the game, and most fans know only their voices.” Every pass, shot, goal, and batted away bludger came over the radio waves, creating a visualization of the pitch prior to the jump to television. Even now it was still a bit iffy, and not everything could be shown despite the new technology hump their kind had gotten over. Some of the greatest modern matches of Quidditch had the same cast teams too, and he knew as a fan he’d love to see pieces dedicated to those that brought a voice to the game.

Temp asked him if he’d seen ‘The Former Real Housewives of London’ and he sort of stared at her blankly for a few moments. Did he look like he enjoyed that sort of thing? His mind was full of Quidditch and work most of the time, a made up illness some of the now terminally online called ‘bludger brain’. Grey didn’t see any problem with that though. “Can’t say I’m a fan of it,” he said in response. Ghosts were obviously going to be tricky to begin with, as most only wanted to talk about mundane thoughts they’d had since their death. He couldn’t recall any Quidditch playing ghosts at Hogwarts, but there had to be one or two that watched historical matches in their time. “I’m in. Just let me know what you need and I can provide it. I literally have centuries of stats and history.”

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[temperance elizabeth fleming]

some legends are told

some turn to dust or to gold

February 9, 2028
grey xavier slater

The SNITCH revival was one of the few times Temp had disagreed with the producer. In in her mind, Temp didn’t see the need nor the audience for it. But much to her surprise, a lot of people were very excited about this. In the end, Temp had to admit she had a blind bias when it came to Quidditch thanks to her dear old dad. Maybe that was part of Theron’s spiral—that none of his children were so athletically inclined, instead working in careers their mother would not have accepted either. She was rolling in her grave—assuming that was where her mother was somewhere.

Temp, paused to think as she leaned back in her chair and loosely crossed her arms. After a moment she nodded her head slowly. ”Yea…that’s a good idea. We could dedicate some time. Merlin knows announcers are there forever.” Much like the radio, these voices were trusted by the fans. The consistency was part of the experience whether in person or not. Temp uncrossed her arms to note down that thought, also scribbling some follow-up notes and tasks next to it in her notebook. ”What about—um—“ Temp looked up as she formulated her sudden though. ”—like one shot wonders. You know, like, players that were top of their game but totally flopped?” Temp didn’t like the idea of putting people center stage like that, but the audiences would love the drama.

Back in Los Angeles, a handful of the No-Maj community followed some of the no-maj sports teams, especially in No-Maj families. And Temp learned quite a bit from her friends growing up. How many first round draft picks fell on their faces or got some career ending injury in their second game. Quidditch certainly had a higher rate of injury than no-maj sports. But then they went to the topic of deceased players. The likelihood that Grey watched one of Witch TV’s most popular reality shows was about the same as Temp showing up home and Theron would be clean-shaven, sober, with a cauldron of galleons in his hands. ”I didn’t think so. But anyway, ghosts won’t be a problem if we can find them.” Temp scribbled down a few more notes. ”Okay. So…” Temp thought again, her fingers drumming quickly on her desk.

”This has a really short deadline, unfortunately.” Temp couldn’t help but roll her eyes in frustration. But that wasn’t Grey’s fault. ”I want to get a list of some current players so we can talk to them soon—you know how their schedules get—I figure some that have played for a while, like some of the Captains. And we can throw in some retired in there to start out. Any names come to mind?” Not many names ever remained in Temp’s memory. She knew a few Captains like Millie Dawes, Keeper of the Holyhead Harpies. As an all female team, that certain deserve its own episode. But then each team would have to have one.

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Quidditch had so many working pieces that they really would have an infinite amount of people and data to pull from. Grey supposed that they wanted to stay in the British and Irish Quidditch League for now, as if that presented any issues with gathering content and round people up for interviews. Going international would really start to make things interesting, but it sounded like it didn’t need to be ridiculous right out of the gate. Time constraints and all of that jazz. He was glad to hear his option of announcers get somewhat of a green light, and Temp offered up one-shot wonders as well. ”That’s certainly possible…though I don’t know how many would want to discuss a failed career. Sort of rubbing salt in the wounds, you know?” The problem was that it wasn’t the worst idea in the world either, and merely thinking about it brought half a dozen different names to mind. ”But I can always see what I can dig up. There are definitely a few that had subpar careers but really stood out for a season to help their teams win. Like, late season trades or bench players coming in and really being underdog players.” Everyone liked a feel good story like that, right? Not all of these had to be the best players ever, and if it was a successful show, those players needed to be spread out.

Ghosts seemed to pass the vibe check with the magical camera equipment, which was news to him. The speed at which muggle technology was outpacing what the public knew was available was astounding. He was still thinking about this when Temp brought up the deadline. A tiny pang of pressure made its way from the center of his chest and up into his neck. Technically, everything he had been doing over the last few years had prepped him for this. He knew all of his records front to back, and all it would take was a couple of days of overtime and undisturbed silence in the office to find everything he needed.

”Uhh yeah, just give me a moment…” Grey scrambled to pull his notepad and pen out. Quickly scribbling a number of names of current players that he thought would be up to the job, as well as a few retired players he’d spoken to recently, his pen wrote them down furiously. He handed it over to Temp after ripping it from its place. ”I’ll have to get their contact details once I’m back at my desk, but I think those will be the easiest and most willing. You know how some of them can be…” Prima donnas. Almost all of them. It never started out that way, but eventually they slipped into it as the money and fame started rolling in. It was no surprise that the normal players, the ones that managed to evade that sort of behavior, were well-liked and also the same names he had just written down. No one wanted to watch interviews with the snobby ones.

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[temperance elizabeth fleming]

some legends are told

some turn to dust or to gold

February 9, 2028
grey xavier slater

Like with most things in her life, Temp just pushed through. What choice did she have, really? Passing up something as big as this would only put a damper on her career, and the last thing she wanted or needed was to get tossed aside and given even worse things to work on. So, she sucked it up and took one for the team, so to speak. Oh, wouldn’t her father be proud of her work ethic? ”I mean—I guess. But as long as we don’t say the word ‘failure’, we can probably put a spin on it.” Temp suggested. If living near Hollywood had taught her anything…

”Like that one player—what was his name?” Temp paused, closing her eyes to concentrate. How many times had her father brought this man up? That’s what she got for purposefully tuning him out when he went on rambling Quidditch stories. ”Another American—Cruise! He always did those really daring moves and dives for the Quaffle, but after a couple of years, he sort of fell off the map.” One of the most daring Chasers, apparently, and he would let you know it. Temp figured he fell to the minor leagues or got hooked on drugs or something, but even if he’d only played one season, that was enough to inspire, right?

”Yea…” Temp agreed with Grey as he scribbled on his notepad. It made sense for him to contact people with his network from working at the Prophet. Much easier than convincing them to take a call from Witch TV. The crossover between Professional Quidditch and Witch TV was slow and nothing compared to the longstanding relationship with The Daily Prophet. ”Another thing—if this works out, we’ll definitely need more of your help.” In regards to a consultant job title or anything like that, Temp didn’t mention it as such because that decision was above her pay grade. But it was a sign that perhaps Grey should speak to his bosses about where his time was going.

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”Right, sorry,” Grey apologized for saying some Quidditch players had failed careers. He wasn’t technically wrong but there were more nuanced, fluffier ways of putting that into print or video. Exactly the way Temperance was explaining saying as he thought it. She brought up the American Chaser, Cruise, who had held a colorful career as an aerial gymnast. If only his points scored stats were higher, because then he would have still been in the league. He couldn’t stop the grin that appeared on his face when she brought him up though, because Grey knew exactly what he was doing now. ”You’ll never believe it, but he’s a professional gobstones player now. After he left Quidditch, he tried a few years of Quodpot back in the States but couldn’t make a career out of it. I guess he had a lifelong passion for gobstones though, and he brought a lot of that competitiveness from Quidditch into it.” There were so many silly factoids Grey knew of now that his job was solely spent researching players day in and day out. He felt like he needed to give a further explanation on Cruise though, because that was an insane detail to suddenly drop. ”I kind of paid attention to his career because he has the same last name as the muggle action star…”

All in all, Cruise would actually be the perfect subject if he was willing. There would be a wide range of people to pull interviews from, starting with Quidditch, then moving through Quodpot and gobstones. Grey admittedly knew little of the last sport, aside from playing it a few times his first year at Hogwarts. But he was sure that would be a good episode, and just the sort of thing the station would want for a series like this.

Temperance agreed on him getting the pertinent contact details for any of the current players, and she added that they would probably need his help more too. He could already feel the pressure from the amount of work this was going to require, but mentally shook it off. While it didn’t mean anything to the majority of the magical community, having his name down in the credits of a docuseries like this would prove useful down the road. He could already see the trajectory that Witch TV was taking. If this was similar to any of the muggle series he’d watched, he was going to want his name plastered all over it as a consultant. It would raise his own stock as a journalist big time. ”You’ll probably have to settle for agents and publicists for quite a few of them,” he explained. ”But they’re amenable. Most of the time.”

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[temperance elizabeth fleming]

some legends are told

some turn to dust or to gold

February 9, 2028
grey xavier slater

Temp shrugged. It was all semantics at times. She knew that she couldn't say failure in that regard, but for Grey, it was different. She figured that's where her job differed from that of a Journalist. They both had to put a spin on things, but at the same time, their purpose was different for the same target audience. As a producer, it wasn't much different from her life of simultaneously worrying about a million things for various people. Worrying about her adult deadbeat dad but, at the same time, her teenage little sister. But, fortunately, Grey knew exactly who she was talking about on this note.

”Huh--would’ve never thought he’d do that...” Immediately that spun another thought in her mind. Sitting up, she immediately made a note scribbling down 'episode on non-quidditch careers'. Later, when she had a moment, Temp would expand on that. Cruise could not have been the only one to follow an alternate path. "Are there any more like him? Like they're totally doing something else now?" Aside from drinking and couch-surfing, of course. Merlin, if she could keep her father out of this Temp, she would gladly never seek promotion or anything for the rest of her life. She chuckled at Grey's last observation, though. "Yea--he's a big deal for the no-majs. But I don't know why he's still doing all that action stuff at, like... he's almost seventy, I think?" Temp shrugged it off. However, she had to admire the no-maj's ingenuity in how they performed stunts and all those things without magic.

"Yeah--that's fine." Temp was no stranger to speaking to agents, publicists, or a famous person's 'people' as part of her job. She would do the work since she was gunning for a full Producer role at Witch TV. This was one of those small pieces of her life where she didn't feel like some abject failure. Her bosses were tough and never minced their words, but when Temp put in the work, they noticed. "Ok, cool. I think this is a good start. I don't want to do like too much in the first sea—series since it's technically a reboot and, yea, we'll go from there." Merlin, how many years had she lived here, and still her brain had 'season' seared into it rather than 'series' but one day it would stick.

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More like Cruise? ”Absolutely,” Grey answered. He could ramble off half a dozen right now if she really wanted him to. ”Basically any semi-famous pro player that fizzled out after a half a decade of play ended up going on and doing something else that was almost just as interesting as their playing career. Obviously there are ones that have normal jobs too, but I’d wager there are more quietly living a cool life as an ex-player doing some niche career now.” And that was just if they were going to focus on the British and Irish league. If they went international, which they very easily could, there were so many more. Some a lot closer than the average person would think too. ”You know Quality Quidditch Supplies in Diagon? The owner, Santini, his father played internationally for Italy, and then he also had a short stint in the league. He loves talking about his time playing.” Grey had made the mistake of getting coffee with him once to do an impromptu interview of sorts. Hours passed before he was able to politely excuse himself. But the wealth of knowledge he walked away with was astounding.

As for muggle actor Tom Cruise, Grey didn’t really have an answer to that at all. ”Pays well, I suppose. I think if Quidditch was any less physical, we’d have players in their fifties or sixties easily.” But at that age, even with the longevity that magic seemed to provide them, one wrong bludger impact could change everything. No one wanted that when it was time to relax and retire.

Temp seemed to like everything they had discussed so far, deciding that they would simply go with whatever that came their way. Grey nodded his head to show his understanding of the whole situation. ”So I’ll get everything you need for that list of names that I gave you, and then you can let me know who gets chosen? And if there are any issues with getting some of them on board, you can let me know and I’ll try to work as an intermediary of sorts.” For some reason, a lot of the players really trusted him. He was certain it was because his reporting was all factual and stat based, and zero opinions. The sports op-ed writers were vile sometimes.

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