I've never been the type to obsess over my appearance, but today, I can't stop looking at my reflection in the mirror.

Because today… today, I'm wearing a Wimbourne Wasps practise jersey for the first time, and holy fuck this is everything I've ever dreamed of.

Professional Quidditch has been my dream since the moment I got my first broomstick. It had been an old model that was slower than most on the market and full of additional cushioning charms for a beginner, but the magic thrumming through the wooden handle immediately set my soul on fire.

If only that eight-year-old girl could see me now.

I tear my eyes from my reflection, grabbing my broom and a rucksack from their spot in the corner. They're the only two items adorning the otherwise-empty living room of my new flat in Wimbourne, and the room suddenly looks so much emptier without their presence.

But instead of pondering my desperate need for furniture, I walk out the door. I've got a Quidditch practise to get to after all.

The streets of Wimbourne are sparsely populated, the streets lined with small, local shops selling everything from food to potions supplies to Muggle clothing. It's not unlike the magical area of Tinworth in that regard.

I'm lucky enough to have found a place that's within walking distance of the Wasps training facility, so it's only five minutes later that I find myself at the players' entrance.

Between tryouts back in April and contract negotiations after that, I've met most of the team, but only informally. We clicked during tryouts - it's why I'm on the team, after all - but I'm nervous about this nonetheless. It's one thing to meet people as a team prospect, and a totally different thing to meet them as their teammate.

And then there's the fact that I haven't even met the team's other Beater at all; he was out of the country or something for my tryout. Hassan Rajhi has only been on the team for a few seasons and is, if the the Quidditch magazines are to be believed, a bit of a diva, but Coach Reynolds told me during negotiations that I'd been picked for the Beater spot because he was confident that we'd work well together.

Merlin, I really fucking hope he's right. Beaters as individuals are only so useful - it's only when they work together properly that you get any real magic to happen.

I readjust my duffel bag on my shoulder, before walking in.

The entranceway leads into a seemingly endless hallway. I'm a bit annoyed that no one gave me any directions of how to get to this team meeting I'm supposedly joining - for all the work that went into developing my contract, you'd think someone would've given me a map.

Eventually, the hallway leads into a larger room, filled with chairs and connected to the locker rooms. By all normal logic, this would be where a team meeting would happen - but there's nobody here. I stop walking and look around a little bit, trying to get some sort of hint about where the fuck I'm supposed to be going in this labyrinth of a stadium.

As I'm standing there, a man walks through the opposite doorway. I'd have to be blind to not find him remarkably attractive and he looks a little familiar, but something about the cocky way he carries himself sets me on edge.

He notices me after a few moments, and closes the space between us in a few strides.

"I'm sorry, I think you're lost," he says, smirking as he looks down at me. "This area is for team members only."

I stand up taller, but he's still got at least five inches on me. "Yeah, and I'm a team member."

He raises an eyebrow and looks me up and down, taking his time as he does so.

"I think you're a little confused, sweetheart." The use of 'sweetheart' makes my blood boil, as does the fact that his hand comes up to pat my cheek patronisingly. "What I meant to say is, this area is for Wimbourne Wasps first team members only. But if you come back around in a few hours, I'll be happy to take you for a ride on a different kind of broomstick."

He winks at me, and I think that's probably the thing that pushes me over the edge. Before I have the chance to think through my actions, I'm drawing my arm back and sending my fist flying straight at his face.

There's an oddly satisfying crack.

His hands go up to cup his face, which serves to muffle the, "What the fuck?" that comes out of his mouth.

"Weasley!"

I turn, and find myself looking at Liam Richards, Seeker and Captain of the Wimbourne Wasps, followed by the four other team members I've met. "I see you've met Rajhi."

"You're Weasley?"

I turn back to the bloke in front of me. That's… oh my Godric, that's Hassan Rajhi.

I just punched my co-Beater in the face.

"I - shit, I - " I stammer, before turning back to face my Captain.

This isn't grounds to get myself kicked off the team yet, is it? In my defense, I had no clue who he was because he looks totally different in person and has much shorter hair than usual. And he was acting like a complete womanising prick - which isn't an airtight justification, but it's something.

But instead of yelling at me, like I'm expecting, Richards bursts out laughing. "Merlin, Reynolds was right - you're the perfect person to put Rajhi in his place. Haven't even been here five minutes and you've already socked him in the face."

I just gape at him for a moment, because I was not prepared for that reaction at all. "Thanks?"

"Team meeting is happening down the hall, first door on the right, by the way," Richards says, before heading off in the direction that he indicated.

"Uh, excuse me?" Rajhi says, his voice still muffled and a slight lisp to his speech. "Does someone want to fix this?"

I realize that his hands are covered in blood. My hit might've been a little too good.

"Shit," I mutter, grabbing my wand out of my duffel bag. "Move your hands."

He looks at me disbelievingly. "You're going to fix this?"

"Well, yeah," I say, as if it's obvious. "I did this to you, I might as well fix it too."

The suspicious look in his eyes doesn't go away, but he slowly moves his hands away from his nose; it's definitely a little more crooked than it was a few moments ago. I bring a hand up to rest on his shoulder, and point my wand at his nose with the other hand. "Episkey."

There's another painful cracking sound, and Rajhi groans, but his nose looks much straighter and much less swollen now. There's a bruise developing around his right eye, but I can't really do much to help that one.

I quickly move to clean the blood off his face - despite the fact that my anger got the best of me a few minutes ago, as I calm down I can't help but feel a little guilty for reacting so quickly and aggressively.

Even though he definitely deserved it. I just shouldn't have been the one who did it to him, especially given that we're supposed to be working together for the whole season (and hopefully beyond).

When I finish, he's still watching me, but with a slightly different expression than before - less skeptical, more confused.

"You know," he says eventually, "most people who punch someone in the face don't immediately heal them afterwards."

"Well, I'm not most people," I reply, removing my hand from his shoulder and stepping back. "And while I absolutely do not regret punching you in the face, I probably shouldn't have."

Rajhi snorts. "You think?"

"I have no qualms doing it again if you continue to act like an arse," I warn. "Punching you once seems to have gotten me on Richards' good side - I wonder what two times would do?"

Realistically, I wouldn't punch him again - it was a jerk reaction thing, not to mention that my fingers are already sore from the first time - but he doesn't have to know that.

"Let's not do that; you've already left me bruised as is," he quickly replies. "But in my defence, I was only told that our new Beater's name was Dom Weasley, and Dom sounds like a bloke's name."

I just give him a skeptical look, because that's a weak justification at best for talking to me like I'm just some confused girl who would be ecstatic about the chance to sleep with him.

"How the hell have you grown up in the wizarding world and somehow not known who any of the Weasleys are?" Richards says, having apparently walked back into the room without me noticing.

Rajhi looks at him and shrugs. "Reading comprehension has never been my strong suit."

Richards just laughs under his breath, like this is standard behaviour for his Beater. "Well, you two can finish this conversation later, but for now, we're all waiting on you two to start this meeting."

I quickly stash my wand back in my bag and follow my new Captain, and Rajhi follows suit.

The first practice is a dream.

I mean, it's also the most rigorous Quidditch training I've experienced in my entire life and I'm positive that I'm going to be sore for the next week, but it just - this team feels right. Being on the pitch with them reminds me precisely why I chose to sign with the Wasps.

And despite our less-than-perfect first meeting, Rajhi and I's on-pitch chemistry is incredible. It's already ages better than any Beater I played with at Hogwarts - and I played with some of those people for years. I've played with Rajhi for a matter of hours.

Normally, it takes at least a couple weeks to adjust to another player's signals and figure out how to best respond them - and it almost always results in more than one Bludger to the side in the process. But all his actions are intuitive for me - I'm not sure what it is, but he's so easy to read on the pitch. He instinctively defaults to defensive plays, which works perfectly with my tendency to go on the offensive.

After we land and everyone heads off to the locker rooms, Richards pulls me aside.

"So, thoughts on your first team practice?"

"It was absolutely fucking amazing," I gush, unable to keep the massive grin off my face. "I mean, I'm probably not going to be able to walk tomorrow, but… worth it."

"Good," he says, with a small smile. "You know, while I wouldn't normally advocate physically fighting your teammates, I think it was actually surprisingly effective this time."

I cock my head, willing him to explain further.

"Rajhi is notoriously domineering on the field," he explains. "He's a brilliant Beater, but he's walked all over the two Beaters he's worked with in years' past. And the problem is, they let him do it. But you walked in here, and, while perhaps unintentionally, you immediately made him realize that he can't pull that same shit with you."

"Well, that's good, I suppose," I reply. "And he really had it coming for making some gross comment about 'riding his broomstick' and expecting that shit to work on me."

Richards bursts out laughing. "Oh my Godric, he's such as asshole."

He pats me on the shoulder. "You'll realize, once you get farther into this world of professional Quidditch, that some people let the game get into their head. And Rajhi's ego was massive already, so having crowds of cheering fans does nothing to help that."

I suppose he's right - that would be enough to inflate someone's ego to astronomical levels. Although it still doesn't justify him talking to someone like that.

"Well, I'll see what I can do to work on that." And I mean it. I fully intend to knock his stupid ego down a few pegs, because while we work great on the pitch, I won't put up with him if he's constantly acting like a complete twat off the field.

"I have faith that you will," Richards replies. "Day one and you're already an irreplaceable asset to the team."

"Thanks," I reply, trying my best to stay casual even though I'm internally freaking the fuck out. That's an incredible compliment to get on the first day.

"Now go home and take an ice bath or something - we're doing all this again tomorrow."

"Roger that." I turn and head off in the direction of the locker rooms.

I quickly shower and change into athletic shorts and an oversized T-shirt, throwing my hair into a ponytail that's undoubtedly leaving a trail of water droplets down the back of my grey shirt.

When I walk out of the locker room, Rajhi's sitting on one of the chairs outside. He's wearing a black leather jacket and jeans even though it's at least 22 degrees outside. He pulls the whole brooding bad boy look off perfectly, and he definitely knows it.

Which is probably why his ego's so damn big.

"Weasley," he says, "just who I was looking for."

I raise my eyebrows at him. "Hm?"

He stands up, throwing his bag over his shoulder. "I suppose I owe you an apology. I probably shouldn't have said the shit I did when you walked in."

"Probably?"

"Yeah. Probably," he reiterates. "You know, you should consider yourself lucky - I don't normally apologize to people."

Merlin, there he goes again. "Well then, you should work on that one."

"I'm not about to - " he starts, before pausing mid-sentence. "You know what? No. I'm trying to apologize, not turn this into another fight. I'm sorry for assuming you weren't on the team, and for hitting on you."

This time, he sounds far more genuine about it.

So I answer, "And I forgive you."

He crinkles his eyebrows. "That's really all it took? I thought all you birds hold grudges for, like, forever."

"First of all, that's a massive generalization," I say. "Second of all, I don't see any point in staying mad about something that you've apologised for. That does no good for either of us."

He looks at me, that same confused look from earlier on his face. "You're really something else, you know that?"

"I've been told."

He laughs. "You know, the typical response to something like that is 'thank you.' "

I arch an eyebrow, giving him a skeptical look. "You're really going to give me lessons on humility?"

"Perhaps I'm not the best at practicing what I preach," he replies. "But anyways, want to grab a drink? There's a pretty decent bar up the road, and I can buy you a drink as a real apology."

I really hope he's not still trying to ask me out.

As if he's reading my mind, he clarifies, "As teammates, obviously. I've already taken my shot once, and it got me this." He gestures to the bruise below his right eye.

"Yeah, that'd be nice," I answer.

We end up at a tiny little hole-in-the-wall bar, sitting in a booth and drinking firewhisky neat.

"So I take it you didn't go to Hogwarts - how'd you end up in the English Quidditch League?"

"My parents both went to Uagadou, and even though we moved to England when I was seven, they still wanted me to go there," he replies. "So I did, but I wanted to come back here after I graduated, so I did a walk-on tryout here because their previous Beaters were abysmal, and… well, the rest is history."

I nod. "Makes sense."

"So you did go to Hogwarts then, yeah? You got scouted from there?"

"Yep," I answer.

"I heard you lot threw some wild parties. True?"

I almost snort, thinking of a couple from this past year in particular. "Definitely true."

"Alright then, craziest story - go."

I don't even know what to go with. And the truth is, most of them involve Alec. We broke up - for real this time - just a few weeks ago, right after graduation, and it's so fresh that all those stories are still tinged with memories of him.

But I find myself telling one of those stories anyways. "Last Halloween I accidentally outed my secret relationship by snogging him in the middle of a party filled with my cousins - and one of them absolutely lost his shit about it."

"They're an overprotective lot, then?"

I roll my eyes. "Some of them like to think they are, which is hilarious, because they're ten times worse about relationships. I mean, James singlehandedly ruined my best friend's life, like, twice in the past year."

"I take it you and him aren't on good terms then," Rajhi says, taking a sip or whisky.

"Oh no," I laugh. "We're on great terms. He's like, properly dating her now, and I've literally never seen the two of them so happy. He just had to get his head out of his ass first."

Rajhi looks a little confused by that, but chuckles anyways. "So what about you? You still with secret relationship guy?"

"Nope," I say, trying to look more cheerful about that than I feel. "He moved to Greece a few weeks ago, so we broke up after graduation."

"Shit, I'm sorry," he says, and once again, I find that he sounds genuine about it. And then he lights up. "You know what that means? We've gotta find you a rebound!"

My first instinct is to reject that proposal - I'm not looking for anything right now. But, I guess, I don't need anything serious. Something without any strings attached sounds nice.

I've never really thought of myself as a one-night-stand type of girl, but I suppose there's a first time for everything.

"Okay," I reply. "Although - full disclosure, I have literally never picked up a guy in a bar before, so I have no idea how that would work."

Rajhi snorts. "You do realize that you will have to do absolutely zero picking up, don't you, love? There's at least three reasonably attractive blokes who've only had eyes for you since we got here."

I guess that is a perk of being part veela.

"But I can give you all the tips on how to get someone to go home with you," he adds. "I'm pretty fucking good at it."

Of course he is. "Alright, you can be my teacher for the night," I say. "But we're also going to work on how you talk to women. Because while that shit from earlier may get you laid on occasion since you're a hotshot Quidditch star who's not too terrible on the eyes, it's also bound to get you punched in the face. Again."