"Shuddup Amber." Nat snapped at the second Beater. His head was starting to hurt. There was a distinct possibly that his nose bone was stabbing in this brain. Was that a thing? He couldn't remember. He tossed the handkerchief in to his locker. He was about to have a moment of weakness and ask one of the girls for a potion for headaches, But thankfully, everyone was distracted from everything else by some professional people. 

Nat had no plans of going professional, no interest in the Montrose Magpies. Did they play for the Magpies? Did he have a name?  He cared less about that guy that was teaching Pete… what sport was Pete learning this summer? He didn't remember. Point was, he wasn't enthralled, he wasn't interested, ad he wasn't making big moony eyes like Caitlin. Honestly, he was rather put off by it. They had fifteen minuets to rest and re-group and they were going to end up spending it making eyes at some pro-quidditch guy who was… important some how. Judging by Caitlin's expression, this guy was up there with that Jeasus guy she kept talking about. 

Was Montrose even doing that well in the season? He couldn't remember. Maybe Luke Price was visiting the Hufflepuff Team. Hadn't he gone on to play quidditch  for a bit? Gen had mentioned him once he though. Did Nat care? Not really. What he cared about was this stupid Quidditch Match. Nat just wanted to finish the match, and win, so he could go to their ridiculous after party, drink smuggled alcohol, and then pass out in the commons. He sat on the floor next to the lockers, letting his head fall back, he closed his eyes. Stars and unicorns seemed to be living on the inside of his eyelids. He was going to be sick if they didn't get back on the pitch sooner rather than later. He was probably going to be sick anyway.