Who: Andrei Draganov & the Gryffindor Quidditch TeamÂ
When: March 11th, immediately following the game
Where: Gryffindor locker roomÂ
The beginning of the match had been going so well, it was nearly boring. Hufflepuff had barely been able to score against them, and Gryffindor was in the lead. It had begun to look as if it would be an easy win for them. That was until Andrei began to lose control. It was as if he was doing the exact opposite of what he wanted to do. It had taken him less that a moment to realize what was going on, though no one else seemed too. That was quite possibly what angered him the most, the fact that he was confunded and they didn’t even seem to realize. He was sure that his team thought he was purposely trying to make them lose.Â
When it was all over the boy stormed into the locker room, barely putting down his brook stick before he lashed out. His fist collided with his locker, his knuckles stinging as he was sure that the one hit had been enough to draw blood. “Fuck!” He cussed. It wasn’t as if he wasn’t used to the majority of his house disliking him. At least when it came to Quidditch he’d gain a bit of respect from them. That was up until the attacks. Now they were no longer content with simply ignoring him, lashing out at him every chance they got even when he kept his head down. Andrei was sure that they would use this as another excuse to question and lash out at him. Though this time he truly hadn’t done anything wrong. He wasn’t oblivious to the eyes on him, especially after his outburst. “Got something to say? Go right ahead.” The blonde snapped. He was sure that they had all already made up their minds as to what had happened. Even if he tried to explain, they most likely wouldn’t have listened.Â
Fabian trudged into the locker room soaking wet, chilled to the bone, and in a sour mood. The game had been theirs, never in his entire Quidditch career had Gryffindor held that large of a lead, and then it slipped right through their fingers. It wasn’t just disheartening, it was frustrating. Everyone had played their best, everyone except for one teammate. Fabian watched as Andrei punched at his locker, wincing at the sound. No doubt it would hurt, but he didn’t much care about Andrei’s hand. When Andrei spun his anger around at him, Fabian felt his own bubbling up in turn “Yeah, yeah I’ve got something to say.” He said, his voice rising as he stepped closer to his teammate.
“What the fuck happened out there?” Fabian asked, his arm sweeping dramatically toward the door leading to the pitch. “It was like you weren’t even trying.” Somewhere in the back of his mind, Fabian recognized that Andrei was playing differently than he ever had in practice or matches before, but his newfound distrust of his teammate clouded such rational thoughts. “What were you thinking?”
After the game they’d just had, the last place James wanted to be was in the locker room with the rest of the team. He was tired and in pain and disappointed - and the worst part was, he recognized that the match was unimportant in the long run. He’d just been so looking forward to something good happening for a change. He moved into the locker room reluctantly, slowly, not planning to stay very long. He didn’t keep his broom here anyway, he just needed to drop off some of his other gear - not that he could do much about it, one-handed. His plans to make a quick exit were interrupted by the brewing fight and despite himself, he paused, glancing from Fabian to Andrei. At any other time, he would have been on Fabian’s side but he was too tired to care at the moment.Â
“I’m pretty confident we’ve railed at him enough, Fabian. It doesn’t matter anymore, does it?” The words weren’t meant for Andrei at all; James still didn’t care for him, didn’t want him in their house or on their team, but that couldn’t be avoided. Pausing, he addressed the room at large, running his good hand through his hair. “We’ll have a meeting in a day or two, talk about what happened. Try not to destroy anything in the meantime.” He turned to go, with a quick glance in Marlene’s direction. “Can you keep them from destroying the locker room for me? I can’t be here right now.” Part of him felt bad for running off like this, but he couldn’t dredge up anything positive to say now, and he needed space.
Marlene was known for her rather quick temper. If it wouldn’t have fouled her out she’d have pulled out her wand on the field and cursed Draganov herself. They had had this one in the bag until their keeper had seemingly forgotten how to catch anything other than an attitude. She had expected the team to be just as pissed as she was and she was absolutely correct. It was with immense surprise though that Fabian was the first to say anything. Pridefully, she looked on as one of the few displays of his inner lion popped to the surface. James interruption halted her pride long enough for her to register that this wasn’t normal for him at all, “Get out of here” she said, aiming her head towards the entrance. No doubt he would go find Lily and she could ask later about what was going on with him.Â
“Everyone except you did amazing out there” she said, pointing directly at Andrei and then hissing in pain and clutching her broken wrist to her body, “What I want to know is how I can play with this crap, James can continue to score after injuring his shoulder. Glenda practically carried us there for a minute and you look like you’ve never seen a quaffle before. What happened to you?”
