Fooling Around

15. Hurling Hex

Draco gritted his teeth in frustration as he flew around the pitch once, everything around him blurred, as he tried to calm down. His team was being absolutely unmanageable today; he felt as if he was the only one who cared about the match against Gryffindor, scheduled for the following morning.

“Nott! What do you think you’re doing?!” Draco roared, spotting his player spinning in the air and throwing up the Quaffle, trying to catch it without pausing his crazy spiraling.

“Showing off!” Blaise supplied, holding his sides from laughing so hard.

“We have a game tomorrow, and you are wasting time like this?” Draco braked suddenly right in front of their noses, breathing hard, his eyes pieces of glinting steel. “On your positions, now! I want to see you doing something useful!”

Draco flew above them again, watching as Nott was about to score, when he did a backflip, trying to catch the Quaffle and failing, causing Blaise to guffaw with laughter.

There was just no teaching them.

Taking out his wand, Draco pointed it at not and muttered the Hurling Hex, hoping this would teach his housemate a lesson.