Once again, Anna sighed, clearly disappointed that she hadn't gotten to play. She glared at the disgusting, nasty, icky water at her feet, then promptly stuck her tongue out at it. "Party pooper," she spat at it. Even if the icky water hadn't come, though, they'd still have lost. Forfeited. She refused to say that they lost. She and Jack had put up an honest effort, after all. "Congratulations, Hufflepuff," she said, then grabbed her broom so that she could make her leave. "Come on, Jack. Butterbeer on me in Hogsmeade. No, I take that back. Butterbeer on you. I'm the lady in this situation."