Gryffindor Changing Room

"Damn those two girls to Hell!" Gryffindor Quidditch captain Oliver Wood exclaimed, pacing up and down the room. His normally neat brown hair was disheveled, and his brown eyes were popping out of its sockets, giving him a slightly mad look.

Meanwhile, all o his teammates stood watching him, most with keen or frightened looks.

One of the Beaters, George Weasley, a tall red head, spoke up. "Actually, Oliver," he said, a smile on his face. "The one with the blonde hair had nice knockers."

"Right you are!" Fred, his twin, responded. "And a nice ass too."

As they said this, the three Chasers shook their heads angrily at them, muttering dark things under their breaths about woman's rights. Finally, the most outgoing of the three, Katie Bell, stood up from the bench that she was sitting on, and demanded, "So, is that all you like in a girl? As long as they have a nice body, you'll consider them romantically?"

"Now hold on just a minute, Missy," Fred said, putting his hands in front of his face. "I never said-"

But they never got to hear what he never said, for a very put out Oliver stomped his foot hard on the ground, and glared at all of them in turn. Katie, George and Fred all went to their respectable seats as their captain boldly declared, "Let's not forget who the enemy is here!"

As everyone regarded him in a stunned silence, the smallest of them all, The Boy Wonder, Harry Potter, still sitting, asked bluntly, "The enemy, Oliver? Walking into a game you knew nothing about when you were lost helps constitute as being the enemy?"

Oliver had the right to look uncomfortable as those famous green eyes regarded him with such sarcasm as his words rolled off his tongue. But that was over soon enough, for Oliver gained back his bravado and said with renewed confidence, "Yes. Of course that makes them the enemy."

All of his teammates shook their heads sadly at their fierce and headstrong captain, before shaking their heads and walking out to the showers, leaving behind them a once again muttering Oliver.

Slytherin Changing Room

Marcus Flint, the Slytherin Quidditch team captain, paced around heir changing room, muttering dark things and taking a leaf out of his mortal enemy, Oliver Wood's, book. Finally, he stopped, and said, spittle flaying out of his mouth, "I cannot believe they cancelled Quidditch just because of a couple of Muggles. Couldn't they have just given them memory charms and chucked them out the door way?"

His Seeker, Harry Potter's foe, Draco Malfoy, stared blankly into space, still clad in his green robes. He came out of his stupor long enough to answer his captain with a noncommittal, "Dunno."

Marcus, though, seemed to think that this answer was good enough, for he continued pacing and started raving all over again. "I mean, come on! We were so close to winning!"

One of his Quidditch players, a Beater with tawny blonde hair and bucked teeth said stupidly, "No we weren't. We all know that Potter would have gotten the Snich in no time. Ah…." He drifted off, noting the look that Flint was giving him.

"Shut up!" Roared Marcus, angrier now than he was before. "What do you think, Malfoy?" He inquired. "You've been awful quiet."

Draco, still lost in his thoughts, asked, "Hmm?" He looked up. "Oh, well, that one with the hair, like a veela." He must have thought that they were talking about the girls still, and not the game for all of the information that he gave.

But Marcus, being the dumb brute that he was, shook his head and retorted, "I don't know. That other one had real big knockers."

One of the Chasers, and hunched-backed brunette said with a malicious smile, "Yea. And a nice ass too." Totally unaware that he was repeating that same conversation that the Weasley twins had, he turned to Draco and asked, "Hey Draco, who do you think has a better ass?"

The other Beater, a gruesome looking boy with greasy hair said, even though he was not Draco, "Well, the only ass I saw was the brownish haired one's, and from what I saw, it was nice." He thought for a long moment. "The other's hair was too long."

Once again, noting that Draco wasn't saying much, Marcus snapped his fingers rudely under Draco's nose and demanded, "Hey, Malfoy! You alive in there?"

Draco looked under his pointed nose to the fat fingers placed there, and said loudly, "DAMN POTTER!"

In return, Flint looked hard at Draco, and said slowly, as if he didn't believe him, "Right. Well then-"

But Draco cut him off by pushing off of the bench he was sitting on, and declared to the six other players, "You guys all suck. I'm going to bed."

Marcus seemed unperturbed by this, and only nodded his head towards Draco before saying simply, "Ok."

Draco looked at him oddly before leaving with his head full of his own thoughts. He was not gone long before the conversation heated up again.

"Stupid Dumbledore!" Marcus said moodily, resuming his pacing.

One of the Chasers was staring into space, all the while saying, "Her eyes. Like beautiful jew-"

A Beater grunted disgustedly at his attempt at poetry, and declared for all to hear. "Stupid Muggles."

Yea," another said, nodding his head. "I hate Muggles."

In front of them, Marcus stopped pacing long enough to ask hopefully, "Do you think that they will reschedule the match?"

The same Beater that said that he hated Muggles shook his head and said, "Probably not," before going off on Muggles again.

"DAMMIT!" Marcus yelled loudly again, surprising everyone that was left in the room. "I MUST WIN THE QUIDDITCH CUP!"

The hunchback looked up at him, a slightly evil look on his face. "It's ok, dude, lighten up! We'll figure something out. Who knows," he said, smiling in a sunning fashion. "Maybe we'll dink that Hufflepuff Seeker."

And as they discussed this topic, far off in the castle, two girls were getting the shock of their lives."