Sorry to leave you hanging all week! Thanks for the awesome reviews! And with no further ado:
The sound of my teammates landing on the grass around me directly follows the realization that I lost control of my morphing in the fall, and I feel my stomach drop as the blood drains from my face. Coach manages to land directly in front of me, looking like he's flown full speed from the coaching box. Mother of Merlin, I'm gonna be sick. His nostrils are flared wide, and his lips are pressed into a fine line while the vein running along his forehead is popped out and pumping away.
"Get the fuck up. Every one of you to the bloody changing rooms," he finally orders. Getting to my feet, I let my head hang a little so I can hide behind my hair. Whether intentional or not, my teammates are all shouldering their brooms and have somehow surrounded me, making the silent walk off the field a little more manageable. The crowd still must not know what to think, because they're still murmuring amongst themselves, rather than celebrating our win like wild people. I wonder what happened to my broom.
Trudging into the changing rooms, we all line up along the bench in front of our lockers. As soon as I reach my place, it's like my knees buckle out from under me, and I can't stand a second longer. Collapsing onto the bench, I let my face fall into my hands. They're all still standing, and staring right at me.
"Who the bloody fucking hell are you?!" demands coach as he storms in and pulls me to my feet. He's taller than me now, and he's looking down on me with pure rage.
I open my mouth a few times, but there isn't a word in the English language that I could manage right now, let alone my name. I feel completely inadequate as my voice box refuses to work.
"Olivia Wood," Montague finally announces. "She's Wood's twin sister."
"And what in the name of Merlin's saggy left bullock were you doing on my field today? Why wasn't your brother out there?"
Once again, I'm unable to answer, but this time it's because I'm not exactly sure what he's asking. It almost sounds like he thinks I've only stood in for Robbie this once.
"The same thing she's been doing all year," Finnegan's voice provides the answer. "It's obvious that Robert Wood has never played a day with this team… Unless they play exactly the same."
"WHAT?!" coach roars, dropping my arm and allowing me to sink back down onto the bench. If I could disappear into myself at this moment, I would. Looking up through my eyelashes, I can see coach working it out in his mind, realizing that at no point in the past ten months has he really seen a different player than the one that helped win the match today.
"But how?" he suddenly asks, sounding completely puzzled. I am pretty sure my teammates don't have the answers to this one. Coach grabs my chin, and forces to me to look at him. "How?" he repeats the question, his lips curled in a snarl. I want to cower, but he's holding me firmly in place.
Shifting my eyes to either side, I can tell the entire locker room is staring at me. Meeting eyes with Jasper, I let myself take on his appearance, really focusing on getting his face right. Coach drops my chin and takes an involuntary step back. I rapidly morph back to myself.
"You're a metamorphmagus!" he gasps, running a hand through his hair. I nod and try to ignore the intense stares from around the room.
I stand rapidly and turn to my locker, grabbing my bag. Finding my voice I manage to squeak out, "I'm sorry I was forced to deceive you. I'm not sorry I got the chance to be a part of this team, though. When Robbie asked me, I didn't ever think it would end like this." Shrugging my bag onto my shoulder, I move to make a quick escape, only to be stopped by Coach's firm grip on my wrist.
"I don't know where you think you're going young lady, but you aren't leaving this stadium until we have a contract with your name on it!" he snaps, dragging me back to my bench.
"But…. You just found out I've been deceiving you all year!" I sputter. "This is a men's only team! I mean… you could probably get me and Robbie thrown in jail."
"And leave us without our star rookie left wing chaser!?" demands Coach, looking at me like I'm a dafty. "We're in the bloody finals next week. No way in hell that management's going to risk dropping you. You might want to call your agent to help re-negotiate your contract."
"But I don't have an agent…" I say.
"You'd better get one," directs coach before turning to the rest of the team. "The rest of you are free to leave. Don't celebrate too hard. Practice bright and early Monday morning!" He claps his hands twice, his usual indication that practice or a game is over.
Turning to my locker, I sink to the bench, once more in shock. I'm not fired. In fact it doesn't sound like I'm in trouble at all. This afternoon has really been too much for me. I'm mechanically removing my pads, which are much too big considering I'm no longer Robbie sized. The whole uniform is much too large, and I'm honestly surprised my boots didn't fall off on the walk over. I do tend to lace them incredibly tightly though.
"What are you doing?" Jasper exclaims, and I look over to see who he's addressing.
"I'm sweaty and gross!" exclaims the half naked Rolland as he tosses a towel over his shoulder. He's already stripped down to his boxers, and I divert my eyes back to my locker.
"There's a lady present!" protests Montague. "Decorum!"
"It's not like she hasn't seen it before," quips Rolland, and I can hear the smirk in his voice as I hear him retreat to the showers. I can feel the blush rising as I know my teammates are realizing the implication. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see Jasper's face, and I honestly don't know which of us is redder.
Snatching my duffle bag, I toss it back over my shoulder and bolt before anything else can make this already bad situation any worse. I take the rarely used side door into the hallway that leads to coach's office to avoid any post game media that might be lurking outside the main entrance. Opening the door to Coach's office, I assume he won't have any problems finding me here. The guys will have a pretty good idea where I went, since I was told not to leave. Looking around Coach's office, I can't help but feel comfortable considering it has the same sort of feel as my dad's office in Puddlemere.
Thirty minutes later, coach shows up with Pollick, our manager, Mr. Quimby, the owner, Smith, the team lawyer, and dad's old agent and lawyer Crowley. I'm not sure how he's managed to show up, but I'm guessing that Dad sent him after what he just witnessed less than an hour ago.
"Miss Wood," greets Quimby, reaching out and shaking my hand. "Quite the show earlier today. I'm sure Coach Birch has already informed you of the plan to sign your contract as expediently as possible. Considering your contention for Rookie of the year, as well as your key role on this Falcon's team not only in the Cup Final next week, but hopefully for seasons to come, we would like to ensure everything is neat and tidy before you go home today."
I can barely register what he's saying. He owns the only traditionally all men's quidditch team in Britain. And he's suddenly alright with a girl who has been posing as a man for the past ten months joining his team officially. The Falcon's are steeped in their all male tradition. You'd never hear of the Harpies signing a man!
"But… I'm a witch!" I finally get out as they sit down around the small table that Coach uses for mapping out plays.
"We've had quite a bit of pressure to convert to co-ed from various individuals, including some in the ministry and the department of games and sports for years. Why it's alright when the Harpies do it, and discrimination against women when we do… That's not exactly clear. This whole situation forces our hand a little, but we think that the media is going to eat this up. The publicity is going to be amazing for our team, and the market expansion alone will be able to pay for your contract. Can you imagine how many little girls are going to want your poster on their wall? The jersey of the first and only female Falcon?!" Quimby looks positively gleeful. "The drama of it alone is going to make you, and this Falcons team legendary. We couldn't have converted the team to coed this successfully if we had planned it!"
"So you're not mad?" I ask with raised eyebrows and an incredulous tone.
"You're likely unaware of the legislation currently churning through the ministry, but legal stipulation that employers are unable to discriminate based on gender is going to pass the Wizegamot within five years. Eventually, I think we would have been forced to take on a female player to get the Ministry off our back," answers Mr. Smith. "We've been trying to prepare for this eventuality for a while now."
"Miss Wood," says Crowley, redirecting my attention to him by the simple formality. I've known him my entire life, and him calling me 'Miss Wood' just seems strange. "The Falcons are offering you a very generous three year contract of four million galleons a year with standard bonuses that reward you for scoring, steals, and team wins. It would be in your best interest to take the offer, because although you are likely to receive offers from other teams in the next few days, this one also comes with total forgiveness to any violation of contract your brother made which you were an accessory to."
"Of course," I say with a nod. "I wouldn't want to go anywhere else. Where can I sign?"
Quimby, Pollick, Smith, and Coach are smiling in relief as they pass a multipage contract my way. Glancing through it, it seems pretty standard as to what Robbie's previous contract stated. There's a five percent increase in my money that's made off any official Falcon's products that are marketed with my name or image on them. I now get 15% of all profits, which is quite generous. There are some stipulations about photo shoots and a willingness to do them, which I was not previously required to do as they weren't sure Robbie would be marketable. There's the bonus's list, which is nice to see that if we win the cup next week will be very generous. Skimming about halfway down the third page, I notice something new that I'm sure wasn't in the last contract.
"I must be willing to receive an injection of Vortex Venom?" I ask. What the heck is that?
"Standard part of any female contract," assures Crowley. "It's an injection that prevents pregnancy for the three year duration of the contract. My clients have all assured me that it is painless, but it protects the franchise investment in your contracted time. Even if you feel it's unnecessary, it protects you from the possibility of having to cut a contract short due to an unexpected happy event."
"So basically, it would prevent me having children and having to take off for maternity?" I say, restating his answer to ensure that I understand.
"Essentially yes. Every member of the Harpies has this stipulation in their contract as well as all other female players that I am aware of the details of their contract." Crowley has always worked closely with the Harpies management as a part of their legal team. He also manages some of the best players, both male and female in the league. He's the best of the best when it comes to agent lawyers.
"Clever," I say, holding in a laugh at the look of relief that passes over the male faces in the room. "I don't see anything unreasonable in here. I would like a private shower and changing room added to the locker room. It would be nice not to have to always head home after practice and games."
"Consider it done!" exclaims Quimby. Grinning, I take the proffered quill and sign Olivia Bellina Wood with a flourish.
"Congratulations, Miss Wood, welcome to the team," says Quimby offering his hand. Taking it, I shake it firmly, before shaking hands with the rest of the men in the room. Exiting the Coach's office, Crowley gives me a pat on the shoulder.
"You have no idea how proud your dad's going to be! And relieved, I'm sure!" he laughs. "When he apparated onto my doorstep, I thought all hell had broken loose. I might just make it home in time for dinner!"
"Thank you so much, Crowley," I say sincerely. "You'll be the first I contact before signing my next contract!"
"Sounds good. I don't want you double booking yourself for the next three years!" he laughs. Finally able to go home, I figure I had better face my family sooner rather than later. Mum's going to go ballistic, but at least dad had a heads up after last week.
By the time I've gotten a chance to apparate to my apartment and take a quick shower, I'm feeling a little better about the whole thing. I decide to head home via floo, and I'm not exactly surprised to see my mother sitting on the sofa facing the fire waiting for me. Her face is deceptively blank, but her arms are crossed and I can tell she's not giddy with joy to see me. I opted to wear a light blue sundress and a white cardigan, hoping that more feminine attire might remind her that I'm her only daughter, so she really doesn't want to murder me and get stuck with only my brothers in her old age. Also, being the only daughter usually helps get me out of trouble with mum and dad.
"Olivia. Bellina. Wood." She says, pausing after each syllable and emphasizing each word. "Sit. Down."
Looking over, I see my brother is already seated on the loveseat with a demure expression on his face. I can feel eyes peering in from the den. I hear a muted 'shhhh' behind me, so the monsters, and likely Davie, are watching the show from the safety of the other room. They're all home for spring break, and I'm certain they're thrilled to have a juicy story to share back at school.
I'm taking my seat when dad waltzes in with a tea tray, looking humorously domestic for the legendary Oliver Wood. I'm sure this is an attempt to butter up mum before she finds out that he's known about our charade for a week.
"Today has been one of the worst days of my life. And that's saying something," she says in a tone that is much too calm. Mum's a yeller when she's mad, but when she's livid she's cool as a cucumber. I haven't seen her like this since Kenny nearly burnt down the house with Graeme and Walter in it. "I'm enjoying watching my son play a wonderful game of professional quidditch, and thrilled to see his team clutch the win that will move them on into the Cup Championship. Imagine my shock and surprise when I watch a member of the other team forcibly push my son out of the sky. I'm about ready to have a heart attack, so when my son suddenly morphs into my daughter… You're lucky I didn't faint. I don't buy for a minute that this was a one time thing. I've been watching 'Robbie' play all season, and in retrospect, maybe I might have noticed. What the hell did you two get yourself into?"
"It's my fault, mum," says Robbie before I can say anything. "I practically made her do it!"
"Why would you make her do it though?" asks mum, completely irritated.
"I double booked myself. Signed two contracts! One with the Falcons, and then one with the Kestrels. I've been playing Center Chase for the Kestrels all season," confesses Robbie. "I didn't have the money to buy myself out of the first contract and was too embarrassed to tell you and dad after I'd done it. I knew it would hurt the whole family's reputation, and maybe even ruin Kenny, Quinn, Graeme, and Walt's chances at even getting the opportunity to play professionally. I had to beg Livvie to even consider it."
"What made you think it was a good idea to drag your sister into this mess? How is this not worse than what would have happened had you just done the right thing from the start!?" Mum's wringing her hands, and her voice is a little louder, which is actually less scary than before.
"Actually mum," I say cutting off anything that Robbie might have said. "It's all be straightened out. The Falcons wouldn't let me leave until I'd signed a legitimate three year contract with the team. Robbie's been promised total forgiveness and they've agreed not to press any type of charges against either of us."
"You've signed a contract with the Falcons?!" exclaims mum. "How is that even…?"
"They can't afford to lose me, and they decided taking a woman onto the team was a good marketing strategy."
"But… Didn't you learn anything from your brother's mistake. Never sign a contract without reading it fully and the backing of a good lawyer. If Robbie had waited until he had an agent, this never would have happened!"
"Dad explained everything to Crowley, and sent him over. Everything looked good, and the terms were amazing. He told me I probably couldn't have signed a more favorable contract." I protest, not realizing what I've just revealed until Dad starts shaking his head at me. Mum immediately turns on him with a dark look.
"YOU KNEW ABOUT THIS OLIVER WILLIAM WOOD?" She shrieks, her normally smooth blonde hair starting to frizz and sparkle with magic. I think this is about the angriest I have ever seen my mum at my dad. It would be funny if it wasn't so terrifying.
"Just since last week, Kates," my dad says putting his hands up. "I confronted them after the game last week. I couldn't exactly tell you! I was in a dilemma about what to do as a Coach in the league. The rule book doesn't say anything about fraudulently impersonating another player and working under their contract with their permission."
"I can't believe you!"
"Dad told us we had to tell you!" I interject. "We were going to wait until after the Falcon's finished the season, though! We were going to tell you next week at the latest. Dad said we had to!"
"Well at least now I know what he's been keeping from me all week. I had hoped it was a special twentieth wedding anniversary surprise," says mum deflating. Dad looks like he could kiss me.
"The Falcon's agreed not to press charges?" asks Robbie as silence falls around us.
"You're off the hook. I think that they realized at the end of the day, I was the better contract anyways," I reply, giving him a wink and a smirk.
"In your dreams," snorts Robbie.
"Says the boy whose team isn't in the Cup next week to the League's most likely Rookie of the Year," I taunt, not realizing my mum has vacated her seat on the sofa and is crossing the room. "OWWW!" I moan, rising to my feet as her fingernails dig into my ear, pulling me to my feet. I start to ask what she's doing when she pulls me into a hug that would have suffocated me if she wasn't smaller than me.
Wrapping my arms around my much shorter than me mum, I'm surprised to realize she's sobbing. "Hey, mum. It's okay. I'm really happy I got the contract too, but…"
"It's not that," she says finally pulling back and wiping her eyes with the backs of her hands. "It's just the fact I had to watch you nearly die this afternoon. If that charm hadn't activated… Thank Merlin," she says in explanation. "Thank Merlin for that friend of yours. I still… I'm going to have nightmares for weeks."
"I'm… I'm sorry. It was terrifying, but I hope you noticed my perfectly executed fall position," I say, hoping she'll be able to laugh it off.
"That was quite nice, but I'm not sure how much it would have helped from that height. I hope that stupid arse Goyle doesn't get a slap on the wrist fine. I hope they suspend him at least two or three games into next season," she says with a fury I'm glad isn't directed at me. Kissing her on both cheeks, I try not to grin, thinking about my mum going after the overgrown Jared Goyle. She might not have fought in the war because she was raising her younger brother, but she likes to say she wasn't a member of the DA for nothing.
Sunday, I manage to make the front page of every single magazine and newspaper. Quidditch Weekly, Witch Weekly, the Prophet, the Quibbler, The Daily Rumor. Robbie and I spend the morning giggling over the articles, especially the speculation in the Rumor that I infiltrated the Falcons on behalf of the Harpies and planned to sell the Falcon secrets to the competition. It's a pretty entertaining morning, but I'm a little disappointed that the drama surrounding my exposed identity has mostly eclipsed the exciting news that the Falcons are in fact playing next week for the League Cup!
The afternoon proves nearly as exciting when a package being carried by four owls arrives just after noon. Inside is an entire new practice kit in my exact size, as well as a new broom to replace the one that shattered into a thousand pieces when I fell yesterday. I can't help but worry that everything I shattered into a thousand pieces won't be as easy to replace or repair. I haven't heard a word from Finnegan all day, and somehow that seems ominous.
Hope you liked it! Let me know your thoughts in a review! Keep an eye out next week for the latest update on Livvie and Finn. Also! Check out my brand new story "A Well Developed Sense of Self Preservation." It doesn't have much quidditch (boo) or Oliver Wood (also boo!), but it has Neville Longbottom (yum) and lots of sarcasm (perfecto!). And if you haven't read my other work by now, it's a great day to check out some of my other completed stories. Thanks as always for supporting my favorite hobby! E.A.