The Marauders - Order of the Phoenix Part Three

XCV: Declan Aletrick

The Aletrick Company, "sparking" public relations for the known Witch or Wizard since 1979. Just a tap of your wand will summon all the "energy" you need to spin "watt" is happening in your direction! (Between the hours of 8 & 17 most days; 2x "charge" applies on holidays)

The electric blue business card lived in Oliver Kent's wallet.

He kept thinking about it as he walked with Ludo Bagman and Bartemius Crouch toward the World Cup pitch to visit with Viktor Krum. Ludo kept mentioning the fact that Oliver had cancelled his luncheon - it seemed this had been a prime social interaction that he'd been long planning to partake in, and had greatly devastated his time to connect with many of his more important and well-funded gamblers. "You've greatly effected the odds on any one outcome, my boy!" Ludo chuckled, patting Oliver on the shoulder as though they were long time mates. "What is it, exactly, that kept you from holding the luncheon? Nothing terrible, I hope? I did hear your portkey arrived without you this morning."

"Oh nothing bad, just something that came up is all," Oliver answered, "Ran myself a bit late."

"Perhaps we should start setting bets on what it was you were up to!" Ludo chuckled, and his eyes sparkled in a challenging manner.

"Oh, no," Oliver said, "Nothing that would be worth setting odds to."

But Ludo didn't seem to much fancy the idea of simply letting the matter drop, which was what had Oliver thinking about Declan Aletrick.

"People don't trust celebrity figures that keep things hush-hush, you know," Declan had once told him. He'd chuckled, "I've seen more than one wizard torn to bits having kept their lives too guarded from their adoring public. The times are changing in the world of public relations - once upon a time nobody wanted to know the details about their favorite public figures, but these days... Aha, these days, Ollie, they want to know every gory detail."

"Well what if I don't want every gory detail out there?" Oliver had asked nervously.

Declan had laughed heartily, "You haven't got a choice, boy. You're already in far too deep. You should've thought of that before you put yourself into a position of being in the public eye. Once you've gotten into a life like this, you've given yourself up to your adoring fans, haven't you? Everything about you is up for their analysis, and they'll want to know everything there is to know about you. What's your pet's name? What's your favorite colour? What color are your pants?" Declan smirked, wagging his eyebrows and his electric blue hair bounced as he eyed Oliver head to foot. "Yes, they'll definitely want to know all about what's in those. You've got the build for Broomsticks, don't you?"

Oliver had flushed. "My mum would kill me dead. Not to mention what my --" he'd stumbled here, thinking of Wally, "-- what - what my friends would have to say."

Declan's eyes had flashed knowingly. "Oh you've got a Wally. I see. Yes, you'll definitely be wanting to get ahead of that, then, won't you?"

Now Oliver ran his hands over his jumper as they came up to the pitch and security line blocked by several wizards guarding the entrance. Oliver waved to them as he approached, pulling his team identification card out, though they hardly needed it - everyone knew him and they waved him right through without so much as a pause. Even Ludo Bagman and Bartemius Crouch had to slow until Oliver said, "Oh come now, they're with me - don't you recognize Bagman? Of the Wimbourne Wasps? And Mr. Crouch here organized this whole bleedin' operation!"

They entered into the red tent to find the entire Bulgarian Quidditch team crowded about in various stages of dress, getting their number jumpers on and equipment prepped for the match that evening, trimming their broomsticks and polishing the beater bats and such. One bloke was restringing his keeper's shin guards with great concentration. Oliver led them past all the other guys, a couple of which looked up and muttered low words of greeting in Bulgarian, "Zdravey."