Shaking, he got to his feet and pointed accusingly at the wrinkled Prophet. “May all the Quidditch gods have no mercy on your soul! ‘Old’?! ‘Unsafe’’?! That stadium is a monument!”
He grabbed his dirty dishes, threw them in a sink and tossed the Prophet aside. He planned on spending his morning working out before practice that afternoon, but he decided to pay Miss Owensby’s office a visit…and see how she dealt with him.