Girl's will be Boy's

Chapter One

First Chapter.

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I opened my eyes and took one deep breathe.

The door in front of me read

Puddlemere United Quidditch Team

Men's Locker Room

Men's.

I am not men folk.

Well kinda.

I'm a twenty two year old girl, desperate to be on Puddlemere United, in my brother's body.

I retold myself that I was as good as all the guys on the team.

Maybe even better.

No I was better.

I was just a hen in a sea of, to be blunt, cocks.

Rustling up the courage from somewhere deep inside my bone marrow,

And opened the door slowly.

All I could hear was the scratching of a quill from deep inside.

With every steep I thought back to when this started.

"Are you sure?" Sarah, my friend from Year One at Salem Academy for Witches and Wizards, asked my as she pointed her quivering hand at me.

"Just like him?"

"Yes… when I breathe in… shoot, okay." I said as I looked out through my almost shut eye.

Finally my chance.

Being turned down by every American Team, only gives you one choice.

Become a boy and move to England.

Breathe in.

"say bub-bye vaj-jay-jay."

So I'm here, walking slowly to either another disappointment,

Or the chance of a lifetime,

I'm hoping it's the chance of a lifetime.

I passed the rows of benches and lockers, the whole room smelled of sweat and blood.

It was the most terrifyingly awesome smell ever.

I made my way to the end of the endless rows, to an oak door.

Last chance. I told myself, now or never.

I shut my eyes tightly and knocked swiftly three times.

I heard a groan from inside and a bothered voice said

"Come in, if you must."

Oh this will be pleasant.

"He-Hello?" I cracked out.

I twisted the door knob and walked into a dim lighted closet like office.

With a back sitting in a chair a few sizes too small, facing me, I asked

"Are the-the coach? I mean the coach of Puddlemere United? The Quidditch team?"
"If you're a journalist, please be kind and leave."

I snorted nervously and said "No. I'm here to try out for the team."

His head turned, and said "Try-out's were yesterday. Try again next year."

Standing up his gathered his papers.

"No." I said angrily furrowing my brow.

"'Cuse me?" He said, turning around, the shadows out lining his jawline.

"No, I will not let you do this."

"I am the coach of this team; I decide who gets on this team and when they are allowed try to get on this team, my team. Please let me through." He said trying to move me from the archway.

"No. I will not let you leave until you see me play!" I said breathing heavily out of my nose.

I had turned myself into my own brother, fled my home, and flown across the ocean.

He rubbed his temple with his rough hands and stepped into the light, the brightness splashing again his tired face.

Oliver Wood.

"What's your name?" he asked in a tired voice.

"Oliver Wood?"

"No. Your name." He said slowly.

Oliver Wood, I had just yelled at thee Oliver Wood.

"My name?"

"Yes, your name."

Anya Harrison.

"Oh-uh James Harrison, and a big fan, I mean huge fan."

He raised an eyebrow at me.

"Right well, what position do you play?"

"Well all of them, but I really do well as chaser."

"Perfection, I'm a keeper."

I shrugged and snorted "I know."

With a cocked eyebrow, he replied.

"Alrighty then, one chance. Okay, if I think you're unsuitable for it, you leave and get off my back?"

"Exactly." I said nodding; my cheeks hurt so much from grinning.

"Good, now get on that field."

Why hadn't I worn a cup?

Oh Godric, Rowena, Helga and Salazar.

Why hadn't I worn a cup?

I slowly descended to the ground, the impact bumping my fragile crotch region.

I wasn't rubbish, by the end of our makeshift game, the black dots that were forming in my vision were affecting my game, but I still wasn't completely bad.

I slowly slid off my broom.

I blinked and saw Oliver, walking over to me.

He took his hand and rubbed his eyes and took it over his coarse haired chin.

He sighed and grunted.

"3rd string, Chaser. Practice is 4 in the morn'in every morn'in, it lasts 'till 1. Get some rest." He said patting my shoulder, giving me a reassuring grin.

When he walked from the dewy green field, I smiled and bent over, throwing up.

I fell back, still smiling, wiping my mouth with my hand.

"yah."