Heart of the Shell
Chapter 1: Press
July, 2001.
Oliver Wood was anxious. It was Puddlemere United's first day of pre-season training, and as he jogged around the pitch with his teammates in the morning fog, he dwelled on that fact that there were only six of them running together. Which meant their coach still hadn't found a replacement for their retiring Beater, Brayden Kilkenny. Which meant less effective group drills, and days or, Merlin forbid, weeks adjusting to one less player, only to adapt to someone completely new. With that kind of disadvantage, it could hinder performances for their opening match, and more work for the team through the season, which meant…
'Wood! You can stop running now.'
Oliver slowed to a halt. He turned around to the speaker, a lean young man, who was standing against the goalpost, puffing hard. He shot a cheeky freckled smile at the Keeper.
'What planet are you on today?' he teased.
Oliver huffed. 'In case you haven't noticed, Leo, we're one person short.'
A taller man waved him off. 'Coach is working on it. I won't worry if he's not worried.'
'Well watch out, because he looks worried.' said Leo, nodding to the figure marching towards them. Their head coach, Dante Luis Benito, was a long-retired Beater in his fifties, who still had plenty of muscle from his playing days. His greying hair stood out against his brown skin, and his dark eyes scanned his surroundings constantly. He adjusted his green 'Venezuela' cap and folded his arms.
.
'Not bad, everyone. Good to see you've all still got some gusto in you. Leo, less talking, more stretching. Wilda, keep those strides even, you don't need to beat the boys. Andrei, you've slowed down since the start of summer.'
'It's 'cause that girlfriend of his feeds him so well.' said a shorter man with a blond buzz-cut, poking his teammate's stomach. Andrei swatted him away.
'That girlfriend is my future wife, and will be thrilled that you compliment her cooking.' he replied with a thick Eastern European accent.
'You can feast after we've won our first match. Finish your stretches everyone, then upstairs to the training room.' Benito said gruffly, turning on his heel, and disapparating off the pitch.
The team frowned at each other, and as one, made their way inside the stadium.
'What's he so strung up about?' asked Wilda, the lone woman of group.
The man with the buzz-cut came up behind her. 'Bet my chocolate frog collection it's something to do with the Arrows press conference.'
Oliver's ears perked up. 'What's that about, Benjy?'
The man, Benjy, shrugged. 'Not a clue. They only called it an hour or two ago. Least, that's what my brother said when we left this morning.' Benjy Williams was from a family of Quidditch players, him playing Seeker for Puddlemere, and his older brother playing Keeper for the Wimborne Wasps.
Leo smirked. 'With all those ladies on the team, I wouldn't mind another publicity stunt.'
The tall man whacked Leo over the head, 'Getcha head out of the gutter, will ya?'
'I heard there's been a management reshuffle. It's no secret they've had staffing issues, even during the Euro Cup.' said Wilda.
'Third place is nothing to hang your head for.' Oliver piped in. 'They're clearly doing something right.'
.
As they entered the large training room, they found Benito fiddling with the dials of a radio on the floor. 'Hey Coach, can we listen to the Arrows' press pit?' asked Benjy.
'Sure. Long as you keep your mouth shut.' Benito grumbled. Cussing, he tapped the radio with his wand, humming in satisfaction when it began to make noise. 'Alright. In the meantime, passes and sit-ups, twenty reps each in pairs.'
As the group got to work with some practice Quaffles, laughing and joking through their drills, the radio's music ended and morphed into a flurry of voices. After a lull in the chatter, a man's voice came over the speaker.
'Good morning and thank you for joining us today. I'll pass over to Arrows Head Coach, Elwood Flagstaff.'
There was a shuffling of seats, replaced by Flagstaff's lyrical Welsh tones. 'Thank you. Morning all, I'm sure you're all wondering why we've called this meeting, so… um, we'll get to it.'
'He sounds nervous. D'you reckon Caerphilly's finally snatched him back?'
'Shush, Leo, for Pride's sake!' the tall man whispered. He took off his beanie and ran a hand over his bald black head in agitation.
'We at the Arrows are immensely proud of the squad following our success at the Euro Cup, and look forward to championing that success in the upcoming season. We were hopeful that our line-up would remain unchanged this year, but due to unprecedented circumstances, we regret to announce that Yana Vaso will not be returning to our team as Open-Side Beater.'
Cameras clicked and quills scribbled furiously over the Wireless as Flagstaff continued.
'Yana's departure is a great loss to the club, and she will be greatly missed by the Arrows, where she started her professional Quidditch career four years ago.'
.
Leo dropped his Quaffle. He and the rest of the team exchanged expressions of curiosity and confusion. Benito looked deep in thought as he sat near the radio.
'Well, that came out of nowhere.' said Wilda.
'I don't understand,' Benjy murmured, 'She's one of their best players. What's brought that on?'
The reporters were clearly wondering the same thing, talking loudly over each other with a flurry of questions.
'Mr Flagstaff, why exactly has Miss Vaso left?'
'Has she resigned or was she forcibly removed from the team?'
'Are the rumours true that she's been in negotiations with international clubs Mykonos and Braga?'
'What are her reasons for walking out on the club?'
'Will Vaso be staying in the British League?'
'Has she recovered from injury after the Euro's?'
'Miss Vaso has left the club on her own terms and decided not to renew her contract, which ended in May.' Flagstaff replied, clearing his throat. 'In light of this, we are excited to welcome Barnaby Krane in her place, making his professional debut for Appleby. Mr Krane has an exceptional record as-'
But whatever Flagstaff had hoped to achieve by changing the topic, it hadn't worked. The reporters continued to vie for the coach's attention.
'Can you confirm that Vaso has re-signed with another club?'
'No, no I can't.' Flagstaff answered. But I have no doubt she will do what's right for her.'
'So why isn't she here to tell us herself?' a reporter called out.
A hush fell over the room. Over in the Puddlemere training room, everyone looked dumbfounded. Andrei shook his head. 'Wait- she's not at her own press conference?'
'The hell's that about?' Wilda whispered. On the other end of the radio, Flagstaff was already answering the question.
'…is still recovering from the shoulder injury she received in the quarter-finals of the Euro Cup. But she has released a statement that she's asked me to read on her behalf.'
He cleared his throat again. 'After four years with the Appleby Arrows, I have decided to move on from my original club in order to expand my potential as a professional sportsperson. I've done so on my own terms, in accordance with the conditions of my contract. I hold no animosity towards my teammates, who've all played an important part of my life at the Club, and who I will miss greatly. I look forward to whatever opportunities arise in the coming season, and would like to thank the Arrows fans for their constant support.'
'You reckon she wrote all that herself?' Benjy muttered.
'Oh, shush.' Wilda hissed, shooting him a dirty look.
'What?' he shot back. 'I have literally never heard her speak. Even in print.'
'Quiet, you lot.' Benito interrupted, as another voice was heard through the radio.
'We'll only be taking further questions regarding Mr Krane's appointment from now on, and then wrap up. Thank you for your time.'
.
Benito turned off the radio and started pacing the room. There was a long silence.
'Something's gone down with management I'll bet.' Leo said eventually.
'Changing Beaters this close to pre-season, that's pretty risky, especially for Appleby.' said Oliver.
'Well, we're not much better now, are we?' Benjy said angrily. 'Brayden's gone, so where the hellfire's that leave us?'
'Actually, that's something I've been meaning to discuss with you all.' Benito said, stopping in his tracks. He looked around at his team, and he gave a wide toothy smile. 'Good news. We've found ourselves a Beater.'
There was a collective cheer and applause from the group.
'Now he tells us!' Leo exclaimed.
'Go on, don't keep us in suspense!' Wilda urged him. 'Who is it?'
Oliver spoke before Benito got to open his mouth. 'It's Vaso, isn't it?' Everyone's eyes turned to the Keeper. 'That's why you wanted to listen to the press conference.'
Benito nodded in assent.
'How come they didn't announce it just now?' said Andrei.
'Because Vaso only signed the contract early this morning.' Benito said. 'I couldn't guarantee it would be announced today, and by the sounds of things, the Arrows don't know yet. Though I wouldn't be surprised if she doesn't tell them at all. We'll release a statement later in the week, and can spin the publicity to our advantage. Management are already working on it. What I've told you today does not leave this room until Deverill gives the green light. ' Philbert Deverill was the head of Puddlemere's public relations, and had brought about great reforms to the club since his appointment.
'Why all the secrecy?' Leo asked.
Benito shrugged. 'Vaso asked to keep it that way. Doesn't want a fuss. I'm no seer, but she seems damn relieved to be out of the Arrows. But that's not our business.'
'It is if she causes disharmony amongst a team. How do we know she's right for us?' Oliver challenged. He knew she had a fierce reputation as a player, but like everyone else on the Puddlemere team, knew next to nothing about her as a person.
'Solomon, what do you think of all this?' Andrei said, diplomatically. All eyes turned to the giant of a man that was Solomon Brodie. He was not only their Blind-Side Beater, but Puddlemere's Captain and most senior player. More than ever, his opinion would be vital to the team. He ran a hand over his head again.
'There's no issue here for me. She had a great try-out and she seems like a decent sort of girl. I'm satisfied, and so are the other coaches.'
'Wait- you were at her try out?' Oliver spluttered.
'And you didn't tell us?' Benjy exclaimed.
Solomon raised his hands in surrender. 'Just doing what I'm told.' he said sheepishly.
'So what's she really like?' Leo asked, eagerly. 'Does she actually talk?'
Solomon chuckled. 'Well, I wouldn't trust anything Witch Weekly says about her.'
'Meaning…?'
'She's quiet, but she knows her game. Different style to Brayden, but she's strong and willing to adapt. I think we'll make it work.'
Solomon's affirmation appeased his teammates for the time being.
'So, when do we meet her?' said Oliver.
'Tomorrow.' Benito replied. 'We're going give it a week before we allow reporters in to watch us train. Give you all a chance to get to know her first, and work out your new dynamic. The media are going to be watching us very closely.' He stood up from his seat. 'That's all from me for now. Armstrong and McGovern are waiting for you on the pitch. They've got you till lunch. Don't expect them to go easy.'
He was referring to the other assistant coaches, who specialised in offensive and defensive play.
'Wanna bet? Everyone's easy compared to you.' Benjy muttered under his breath, ducking just in time to miss a Quaffle flying towards his head. The others made their way out, covering their smiles.
.
Leo walked backwards in front of the group. 'So does anyone actually know anything about Yana Vaso? Wilda, you read all the magazines, right?'
Wilda rolled her eyes. 'Only for the crossword and recipes.'
Leo frowned at her disappointing answer. 'Sol, how old is she?'
Solomon furrowed his brow. 'I don't know. It's not something I thought to ask. Heck, I can barely remember the ages of my own kids.'
'She'd be about your age, wouldn't she, Oliver?' said Wilda. 'Weren't you at Hogwarts together?'
Oliver shook his head. 'Only for a few years. She's younger, but she's the only female Beater I'd ever seen at school.'
As they re-entered the pitch and mounted their brooms, Oliver racked his brains trying to conjure any memory of Yana Vaso from the last ten years. The last time they'd properly interacted was at the Battle of Hogwarts, and he had no idea what had become of her that, apart from her growing Quidditch career. Surely she couldn't be too different to all those years ago?
.
.
'Ooh, look who made the front page! Will we have to start paying for autographs now?'
A young witch with bright purple hair and a wicked grin dropped a copy of The Evening Prophet on the kitchen counter. The lead story read 'Shock resignation of Arrows Beater. Mystery surrounds future.' accompanied by a moving black-and-white image of a young woman standing with her broomstick in one arm and a Beater's bat tucked under the other. She glared at the camera with intimidation, her dark features and tight braid adding to her demeanour of severity. Yana Vaso appeared equally as displeased in person as she looked at her housemate with fiery blue eyes and an arched brow.
'How bad is it?' she said, through a mouthful of stir-fry.
'Scandalous, darling.' replied the purple-haired witch. 'Honestly, I don't know what you were thinking, missing your own press conference. You should've heard the girls at the salon today. Merlin, I never knew old ladies were so interested in you.'
'They're not interested in me, just the drama.' Yana replied, scanning the article. 'Pass the chilli sauce, please.'
Her housemate rolled her eyes and sat on the barstool opposite her, placing her own bowl of stir-fry on the counter.
'Does nothing fluster you, woman?'
Yana snorted. 'Gwen, I've already had a dozen owls from my family since this morning. Compared to them, the press are tame.'
Gwen tapped her long, red nails against the counter. 'So, where were you this morning instead of lapping up the spotlight?' she prodded.
Yana twirled some noodles on her fork, murmuring something about 'Signing a new contract at Puddlemere United.'
Gwen choked on her food. 'You sneaky Niffler! Tell me everything!'
.
At that moment, there was a whooshing sound, as another witch appeared in the nearby fireplace among a flurry of green flames. The young Asian woman dusted herself off, and walked across the threshold to the kitchen.
'Something smells good. What have I missed?'
'Yana's in the paper.' Gwen sung out, waving the Prophet around.
'Oh shush. Have some stir-fry, Mei. It's your recipe.'
Mei, their third housemate, was also undeterred by Yana's attempted distraction. 'They announced your resignation? About time.'
'Mei, can you please tell Yana to enjoy her fifteen seconds of fame for once in her life?'
'I think it's admirable that you keep your private life away from the press.' Mei said to Yana. 'All you need to do now is start opening up to everyone else in your life.'
Yana scrunched up her face. 'Ouch. When did you become my therapist?'
'You see?' Gwen said smugly. 'People want to know you, like actually know you.'
'What are you talking about? You girls know me.' Yana frowned.
'We live with you. That's different.' Mei said.
Yana waved her off with her fork. 'Whatever. I'll do what I please with my time and company.'
'Boring.' Gwen drawled. 'So have you met your new teammates yet?'
'Just Solomon Brodie, the other Beater.' Yana replied. 'He's the Captain too. Really nice bloke, older than the others, but I can tell he's respected. Apart from that, I only know the others by reputation. Aside from Oliver Wood, we played each other at school.'
Gwen's blue eyes went wide. 'Ooh, I remember him! Gryffindor. He was a fanatical Keeper.'
'Don't you mean fantastic?' asked Mei. She often asked for clarification on English words, as Mandarin was her heart language.
'No, darling. Fanatical.' Gwen said, shaking her head. 'This boy practically lived and breathed Quidditch. He talked about nothing else.'
'Pretty sure he still does.' Yana added.
'Sounds like a normal boy to me.' Mei said.
'I wonder if he's seeing anyone.' Gwen thought aloud.
Yana smirked. 'I didn't think Quidditch players were your type.'
Gwen laughed. 'Oh no, darling. Not for me, for you!'
'We are so not having this conversation.' Yana sighed as she took her bowl to the sink. 'How was work, Mei? Tell me about your day.'
Yana was quickly becoming an expert at dodging conversation about her non-existent love life. Joining a team predominantly made up of men and knowing nothing about their own relationships was a potential minefield in the world of Quidditch, where scandal and gossip loved to thrive. All she wanted to do was make an effort with her new club, be nice where she had to, play her best, and hope that people would leave her alone. How hard could that be?
