Finn was not sure why Nigel insisted on confronting him in the empty quidditch pitch. Could he not have done something more reasonable like pull him into an empty classroom or a closet or done this at any other time really. Slytherin had just lost, and not only lost, ridiculously lost to Gryffindor. It was a blessing really that Finn had no desire to play professionally as his team insisted on playing more like wounded geese than quidditch players that had been practicing for months. He was frustrated enough as it was, and Nigel’s grating voice with its sharp accusatory tone was going to make him snap. He tried for a moment talk on, but when the last accusation was hurled. The idea of obsession with the pathetic excuse of a wizard was more than Finn thought reasonable in an argument. The line had been crossed, and he intended to put Nigel back in place with his fists.

He took two fistfulls of Nigel’s shirt and pushed him back against the door of the door of the locker room. His intentions had been to bruise the Gryffindor’s idiot face, hopefully breaking at least one bone. Sadly, the best laid plans and all that. Instead he pushed open the locker room door, pulling Nigel inside. He supposed there were other important things to think about. His family for one thing. Sinead, Nigel’s slutty little girlfriend. Though, Nigel’s slutty girlfriend honestly was probably shagging someone else anyway, probably as they spoke. Or rather did not speak, as they found their mouths otherwise occupied.