"The seeker, Mister Grayson, is the only position on the field with any real power. If I hadn't caught the damn thing, you'd still be up here swinging your littlebat." 

"I'm not saying that there isn't a place for a seeker on the field. Everyone has their own place," he commented, emphasizing the last part. "Even if they don't know it yet." Like a woman's place should be in the home. If Tessa were to get married, which was highly unlikely with her condition, the last thing her husband would want to deal with was her relishing in glory days of the past with quidditch. So she might as well get have her small speck of glory while she still could.

"A beater has to be aware of everything that's going on the field. He has to use strategy to both defend his team mates and assault the other team. If you took out the seeker and the snitch, nobody would miss it. The game could be judged just with a time limit and scores," retorted the blonde haired Slytherin boy. Not that he ever would, Ashby Grayson was a traditionalist at heart. If it was fine for years past, it would work for the present. It was only when they start changing things, like letting mudbloods come into Hogwarts. It this rate, they'd be opening the bloody doors to muggles soon, magic be damned.

"It's not like could even play my position on the field," he challenged with an eyebrow raised. She couldn't. She wouldn't even be able to hit the bludger far enough to get out of it's danger zone. The bloody balls were nasty things and if you didn't hit it quite right, it would turn and charge you like some living creature.

"Grayson, you're such a child. Aren't you supposed to be going into sixth year?"

Ashby was having a grand old time. With each block, her usually cool vanneer was starting to crack. Ashby prided himself about finding ways to get under people's skins. Sometimes, their weakness was obvious. Tessa was a hard nut to crack. Other then obvious reason, of course. But there was a bit of unwritten rule among the two purebloods not to bring up each other's sore points, his defunct brother and her defunct womb.

"What's a matter, Greengrass? Agitated?" he drawled, the tone of his voice mocking.