So far the team wasn't looking to be half-bad Edward mused from his vantage point a hundred feet or so above them. Warrington and Pucey were carrying on a conversation consisting of Warrington recounting the tale of a particulairly enibreiated night, which turned into morning, from this past summer. Edward found it amusing that all the while they were racing up and down the pitch, passing a quaffle between them and attempting to get the ball past their keeper. His new Beaters, Crabbe and Goyle, were taking aim at eachother with the bluddgers - and not very well at that. Edward cursed under his breath at them; there would be a number of drills to run with those two before they were ready for the first game in October. Speaking of drills, he flung another of the wingless snitches at the ground, sending his illustrious Seeker hurtling after it. He smiled as the slim, younger boy caught it barely fifty-feet above the dirt.

"Are you trying to bloody kill me Montague?" His normally pale face was flushed, whether from exertion or rage Montague had yet to determine.

"More of a perk, your death would be. See I don't fancy your father coming after me." Both boys exchanged sardonic looks, before Edward threw another Snitch, this time grazing Malfoy's right ear. He was happy to note the Slytherin Seeker was proving worthy by catching the little golden ball with ease.

"OI!" Edwards voice rang across the pitch, and the other players stopped instantly. "We're going to move to the game situation now; take your formations."

The team moved to comply, and Edward activated a Snitch for Malfoy to follow, before moving down to join Warrington and Pucey. It never ceased to amaze him that no matter their status off the pitch, it never affected their game. When they were getting along well they were almost unstoppable, a force of nature that not even Bletchly could deny. On their good days, no matter the current debate between them - be it over girls or Galleons, the three could weave down the field in complicated manouevers and score again and again.

As he slid into position opposite Pucey he couldn't miss the dark look directed his way by Adrian. Edward rolled his eyes internally - he had a feeling Pucey would be insufferable for at least several more weeks as the other licked his wounds over not getting the Captain post. He simply had no head for strategy and refused to admit, much like he refused to admit his other faults. Edward frowned as Pucey's gaze slid away and onto their lip of their changing rooms on the opposite side of the field. He actually rolled his eyes when he saw the cause of the distraction. It was rather hard to miss - he could use Jas's dress as a landing beacon for flyers at night. In a fog. In London. When it was raining. Blind flyers. He could have gone on but Pucey was no longer throwing the quaffle at him, but at Malfoy.

The boy managed to stay on his broom, but it was a precarious moment or two. Edward's heart constricted. The little ferret was annoying, he'd be among the first to admit that, but the thought of trying to explain to Lucius Malfoy how he had allowed his only child and heir to end as a puddle upon the pitch grass was more than a slightly daunting idea.

"What was that for?!" Draco yelped as he clutched the handle of his broom, swooping towards the three older boys.

"You let your eyes keep on straying like that, boy - and you'll get more than a warning from me," Adrian hissed at him.

Malfoy's guilty glance towards the pink figure that was Jasmine ended Edward's confusion. The boy had probably been ogling the seventh year girl and Adrian had reacted predictably possesively.

"Word to the wise, child - when a man is rutting you stay away from his doe," Warrington called to Draco lazily.

The younger boy's expression darkened at being addressed so but took the wise path and kept his mouth shut. Though he wasn't quite wise enough to keep the small, yet lecherous, smirk off his face. Jasmine Parkinson was among the finest pieces of Slytherin ass he'd ever seen, a piece of which he meant to have.

"Ooh, don't look now but I think someone has a secret admirer!" Aemelia chortled, pointing up at the huddled players above.

Jasmine looked up quickly, smiling broadly, but her smile died when she saw who was subjecting her to such scrutiny. She shuddered dramatically, "Like I'd allow some fifth year ferret pervert to even touch me. He's all yours, sister dear." She crossed her arms, the bright pink fabric stretching tightly across her chest. Had she looked above, she would have seen Malfoy wobble once again on his broom, unable to tear his eyes away from the dress' accentuating nature of Jasmine's natural assets.

"Thanks ever so much, Jas - but I do not think of it as your leavings," Pansy drawled, shielding her eyes with a hand to peer up as the players broke from their huddle to resume flying. Her blonde curls bounced as she hopped up and down, waving at Malfoy.

"Must you be so obvious, Pans?" her older sister chastised.

Pansy returned a glare with one of her own, "You're not one to preach subtlety in that particular dress, Jasmine. I still can't believe Mother bought it for you."

"She didn't - Daddy did," Jasmine replied smugly.

"If Daddy had ever even seen that dress he would have it burned, you just signed his name on the receipt didn't you?" Pansy's eyes narrowed at her sibling. "He will notice someday, you know."

Jasmine shrugged. "He hasn't yet - and I'll have a husband to charge purchases to soon enough." She strolled in towards the coolness offered by the awning.

Pansy followed as Aemelia watched the interchange with great interest. "Oh really? And who would want to marry you?"

Jasmine turned to favour her youngest sibling with a smirk, "Plenty of men. And just as many boys. Don't frown so dear, you might get wrinkles and you have enough working against you as it is."

Pansy snarled, "Like you'd even have a say in the matter. At least Mother and Father approve of my choice."

"What? The ferret? As I said dear, you're welcome to him." Jasmine sat upon one of the benches, Millicent and Blaise a few feet down from her. She glanced to the side and grimaced slightly. "Millicent, for the love of Merlin, cross your legs when you're wearing a skirt or do you really want to give the bleachers a show?"
Millicent frowned, tugging at her skirt. "I still don't see why I wasn't allowed a try out - I'm just as good as Crabbe or Goyle."

"Proper ladies don't play Quidditch, Millie, " Aemelia drawled. "Do you want to end up looking like one of those awful Gryffindork chasers? Between Spinnet, Bell and Johnson - the only thing they ever have between their legs is their own broom."

Blaise looked slightly puzzled, "But I thought Bell and Johnson were dating the Weasel twins?"
Aemelia smiled serenely, "As I said, the only thing they ever have between their legs of any significance - is their brooms." The assembled witches cackled.

Miles ground his teeth at the echoing laughter from below. Why did girls have to be such hens about gossip? And why did they have to distract the Chasers so - Pucey couldn't seem to decide to focus his gaze on Jasmine's chest or Aemelia's ass in that second skin of a dress each time he flew by. Warrington and Montague weren't much better. Not that Miles himself didn't appreciate the view, he had simply long categorized such kinds of entanglements here at Hogwarts as dangerous for all they exposed. He was much happier to sit back and watch the others' expose their inner psyches in the most subtle of ways.

Except for Sheraton. He hadn't enjoyed at being surprised so this morning - she must have been very discreet indeed for him to miss her liaisons with Montague. Though the look on Chris's face had been priceless. He had insisted as they made their way to brunch that Julian must never find out about Sheraton's lack of innocence. While Miles did see the obvious bourgeoning attraction between Julian and Sher, he saw to reason to hide such a simple fact. Of course, Warrington had always preferred to see women as purer creatures than they actually were - how he was still friends with Jas was still beyond Miles.

Jas was a paradox in so many ways. She embraced the traditional manners and ways of the older society, yet had no qualms at throwing herself into the path of every unsuitable male she seemed to meet. Take Pucey for example - while he was from a respectable family, his reputation was already too sullied for Jas's parents to even entertain the notion of an alliance. Jas refused to face that fact - though she would have to at some point.

As Adrian streaked towards him, quaffle under his arm, Miles shifted his weight forwards onto the broom, narrowing his eyes. Adrian moved forwards, then flung himself to the right. Miles let himself drift to the left as his team mate barreled towards him, realization in his eyes that Miles had anticipated. As Adrian flung the quaffle towards the center ring and Miles flew up quickly to grab it a good meter from the rim, he grinned to himself. Seeing that look of realization that Miles had outplayed the game always brought a great deal of satisfaction.