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"PLEASED TO MEET YOU, HOPE I NEVER SEE YOU" -One to Another, The Charlatans
FOR ALL INTENTS AND PURPOSES Oliver Wood was, in nearly every definition of the phrase, absolutely bricking it. But there wasn't a soul alive, be they muggle or magical, that didn't feel some form of apprehension on their very first day at a new position, job or school. Or in Oliver's case, his first day at training as the new keeper for Puddlemere United.
His nerves were shot with anxiety, and never had he felt as apprehensive when it came to Quidditch since his first game all those years ago for Gryffindor - which Oliver was told didn't end well when a rogue bludger had knocked him clean out. But of course, he was only attending training today and not an actual match. The only beaters he had to worry about that day were the ones on his side, who he hoped wouldn't be too keen on knocking out their keeper before he could properly be of any use to them.
Try as he did to quell his nerves, they only worsened with each step he took as he entered the training grounds. This is ridiculous, he complained to himself. Oliver wasn't new to playing for a professional team, having played for the Chudley Cannons since he graduated Hogwarts before receiving an offer he couldn't refuse from Puddlemere, the team he had dreamed of playing for since childhood.
He paused upon reaching the door he had previously been told led to the locker room, his hand apprehensively hovering over the door handle as he made one final attempt to calm himself before he'd greet his team mates for the first time. Exhaling shakily, he took the final plunge and stepped inside to which he was immediately greeted.
"There he is!" One of the team's three chasers called out, who Oliver immediately recognised as Andre Egwu - a fellow Hogwarts alumni like himself. Andre belonged in Ravenclaw, and graduated the year before Oliver if he recalled correctly.
The sturdy man bounded across the room and immediately held his hand out to clasp Oliver's, his lips lifted into a grin that showed nearly all of his pearly white teeth and he positively radiated an immediate likeable aura.
"Welcome to the team, pal," Andre welcomed, prompting Oliver's shoulders to loosen as the Scot realised his anxiety had been for nothing. The rest of the team were just as friendly, gathering in a small crowd around him and ensuring they individually greeted their new Keeper with either a hug or a shake of the hand.
"Lovely to meet you all, can't wait to rip the arsehole out of this season," Oliver finally spoke words other than kind acknowledgements of people's introductions and polite 'hello's, grinning once they all laughed along with him and then let out a collective cheer of agreement.
It was rather obvious all eyes in the Wizarding World would be on the upcoming Quidditch season - out of necessity rather than pure, undying interest in the sport. Everyone needed a distraction from the events that had unfurled earlier in the year, and Oliver was more than happy to deliver it. Quidditch was still the one thing that took his mind off of anything, and just as much as any other wizard or witch he too was affected by the war. Everyone had lost someone, it seemed.
