I was so nervous. I could feel my stomach bubbling as I pressed my luggage tightly against myself. My broom rattled noisily against my side as I trudged towards the train. I wasn't usually like this. I was calm and steady, not a jabbering wreck. I suppose going to a completely new school is a little bit different to stepping out on the Quidditch pitch though. It'd had been a rough year in the Quidditch world. When I was scouted to play for the Australian national team, there was plenty of issues raised about my age. These issues were heightened when the Japanese national team's youngest player was abducted by a fanatic, turning up months later a shell of her former self. But playing for your national team is a dream come true, and I didn't want to put my dream on the backburner because of the actions that someone else may take. My parents agreed that I could play, so long as I concealed my face whenever I was on the pitch, at interviews or in the training grounds. I was to play under a nickname, my actual name never to come to surface until I came of age. And so Summer Morello became 'The Spitfire".
Changing schools was something that I expected but could never imagine getting used too. Wherever the World Cup or the qualifiers were held, I went to the corresponding school that was what my parents had decided anyway. I had moved to the USA for the previous season, where we had qualified for the World Cup. The qualifiers were to be played in the UK, so we had relocated once more. It wasn't difficult to relocate, I had barely made friends with anyone at the school. They were all pretty much aware that I wasn't sticking around for long, so no one really made an effort – myself included. It would be the same at this school, and then again at the one after it. I wasn't bad academically, I got through. But Quidditch was where my heart was. I hoped this time around that my coach would at least let me play for the school team. He hadn't been exactly forthcoming the year before, worrying about me straining myself. I knew I'd be fine though. The Quidditch matches were once every three weeks, and I'd tried to argue that playing for a school team would just help me prepare, but it was my first season and I think he was worried about me injuring myself.
I managed to get on the train without too much effort, finding a compartment was just as easy considering I was frighteningly early. Once my luggage was safely tucked away, I sat myself down with the Daily Prophet. News of the World Cup was everywhere, information files on the venues and the players to watch out for. A smile played on my face as I saw 'The Spitfire' in swirling gold letters, a picture of me soaring on my broom, quaffle in hand, just underneath. I was reading up on some of the Irish players when the compartment door slid open. I immediately slammed the paper shut as though sitting on a secret. I wasn't sure why I even bothered because by the time I looked up, there was nobody standing there. Pulling my legs up onto the sofa in the compartment, I tried to keep my eyes away from the windows.
"Anyone sitting in here?" I was snapped from my daydream by someone actually standing in the doorway.
"No, no." I muttered, making myself as small as I could. He smiled at me, before gesturing to someone in the corridor. He was hastily joined by a boy of the same age. They sat down opposite me, making jokes and teasing one another.
"Diggory, you're an idiot to think that Hufflepuff stands a chance against Gryffindor. I mean come on, we're at our prime. You've just lost most of your decent players. You don't stand a chance!"
"Wood, you do realise that having a good seeker isn't going to win you every game? Having good chasers is also a must." Diggory laughed, running his hand through his hair. I had to agree, as a chaser. Many a team placed too much reliance upon their seekers, and many a team failed because of it.
"It's a good thing I'm such a good keeper then isn't it." Wood laughed. I was watching their conversation from underneath my eyelashes, the subject interesting me. But I knew I couldn't get involved, if I let something slip it was game over.
"Hey, wanna settle an argument?" I raised my head slowly, they were both looking at me.
"Sure, I guess." I said, repositioning myself so that I could get involved, seeing as there was no avoiding it.
"What's more important – the seeker or the chaser?"
"Surely every member of the team is important?" I suggested, neither seemed appeased.
"But if you had to choose?" Diggory pressed.
"It depends on the seeker or the chaser, I mean you can't compare two different positions."
"She's got a point. I mean you can't compare Viktor Krum to The Spitfire." Wood mused. "I mean both of them are talented, but to compare them you'd probably have to see Krum as a chaser and the Spitfire as a seeker." I felt my muscles tighten and my limbs stiffen up. I hoped they wouldn't drag me into this conversation.
"See they're kind of two sides of the same coin. The Spitfire has the physique to be a seeker, while Krum has the physique to be a chaser, yet they're the opposite. The only thing Krum has on the Spitfire is experience. I mean she's only been playing what? A year, he's been there for 3."
"Yeah, but you don't know how long she's been playing. She's been playing for Australia for a year, but no one knows who she is, you never know, she could be like 30 under there." Wood laughed, and I had to stop myself from tutting.
"Nah, nah it's a kid. Otherwise why would she hide her face? She pretty much wears a full face guard, she even hides her hair, and I mean come on. I think it's got something to do with that Kimiko Shinizaki. Y'know that Japanese girl who was abducted? Spitfire started playing around about the time she was still missing, so I'm guessing she's probably around the same age. School age anyway." They both nodded in sort of agreement and I tried to loosen my face up a bit, trying to tune myself out.
"Not like it matters, I heard the Spitfire is out of action for the last 16." Never mind, my interest was piqued again.
"Where did you hear that?" Diggory was interested as well clearly.
"Well apparently she hasn't been at the last few training sessions in the US. I mean, she's easy to spot, full disguise and all."
"That doesn't mean she's left the team. That just means she's left the US. Which means she's probably training in the UK." They both clicked their fingers in unison as if they'd figured out the mystery. I was so glad in that moment that my Australian accent had been diluted by constant travelling because this was getting too close for comfort.
"I wonder if players from other teams know who it is." Wood pondered, I was begging them in my mind to change the subject.
"Maybe it's a guy." Diggory smirked.
"It can't be, theres yeah." Wood made a circle motion around his chest before looking at me in apology. Yeah you want to apologise, those are my boobs you're imitating.
"So I haven't seen you around here before, what's your name?" Finally! A subject change.
"Summer Morello." I smiled, holding out my hand. They shook it in turn.
"Cedric Diggory." "Oliver Wood."
""What house are you in?" Oliver asked.
"I'm not sure yet, I've just moved here from A-Asia. My parents got a transfer this year."
"Do you play Quidditch?" Cedric asked. And here we were full-circle.
"I dabble. I play over the summer but I've never really played for a school team." Hey. I didn't lie, I've never played for a school team.
"You should see where you get sorted and come to tryouts. There is definitely space on the Hufflepuff team. Not too sure about the Gryffindor team though!"
"Hey, I always try out new people. They're just seldom better than the people I've got." Wood puffed his chest out. I had to beat down the competitor deep inside of me. My fighting spirit immediately wanted to take up the challenge to show Wood that I could be better than the people he had – but I wasn't allowed. It was against the rules. "Speaking of which, I need to go find Potter and go over some tactics. Got to get in there early." Wood quickly left the room, his mind completely focussed on Quidditch. I knew many people like him. People who were all about the game. People who couldn't switch their minds off. Our keeper, Wilson, was like that. He was always the earliest to practice and the last one to leave, the one who always went the extra mile. I was just about to question Cedric on the Huflflepuff Quidditch team, when the door to the compartment opened. It took all I had to stop my jaw from hitting the floor. Cedric clearly didn't have the same restraint.