Spike's eyes widened. A 'killer' position? Didn't the woman know how many bruises he was carrying from tryouts? Plus a few grazes down his back?

It was times like this Spike wondered exactly how he'd got an O in his OWL. And, for that matter, why he was still taking the subject. He could be relaxing in the greenhouses right now, or grooming a hippogryff, or many other wonderful activities...

Huh.

With a grumble, he heaved his legs off the ground, and clung on to them as tight as he could. His bruised stomach muscles were too sore to even contemplate holding him in the pose otherwise. And there he rocked and wobbled about on his matter, trying to concentrate on the question as a distraction. What made someone dark?

Bad intentions, he thought, before remembering he was meant to clear the first idea from his mind. And then he heard Beezus pipe up from somewhere in the darkness, and he agreed. "Definitely beaters," he agreed with a nod and subsequent wobble. "Anyone who takes pleasure in hitting bludgers at innocent Chasers definitely has morbid intentions...especially if it's at your own housemates during tryouts."

...and that included his sister. He still remembered why he missed last term's Championship match.


Did Beezus' voice sound funny? Or was that just him imagining things in the dark?