don't give a damn

“I don’t joke about Quidditch, especially when my team is set to beat yours mate. Now, instead of bickering ‘bout this why don’t we grab some food in the Great Hall, yeah? I’m starving and the last thing I want is to lash out at someone just because I haven’t had time to eat all day.”

Surprised by this sudden change, Mathilde took a moment to adjust. “We’ll see about that then, huh? Mate?”, she forced herself to chuckle and calm down -- no need for an anger tantrum -- and nodded. “Yeah, sure --- food sounds good.”

“You’re tricks won’t work on me you sneaky Raven. And don’t think I won’t tell your captain about this, unless he was the one who sent you….then he’ll get a beating from me.”

"Okay, you have to learn to take a joke, yeah? I mean, fuck, I was kidding,” she sighed. “Besides, we’ll beat your asses either way --- with or without my .. ‘tricks’.”

As she read the letter to herself, she audibly groaned. “Dates? Why is that a thing? And a ball, really?” Not one for formal affairs she crumbled up the notice and threw it aside. 

“Pretty fucking stupid, huh?,” she said. “Dates are stupid, balls are even worse --- if they’re going to expect that I wear a dress, they’re gonna be pretty damn disappointed.”

“I chose to wear black today to mourn my loss of sanity…oh wait I think I felt it for a second.” He paused. “Nope that’s just heart burn, it’s dead.” 

“Anyone else hanging here for the holiday?” 

“Yeah, I am. Will be a fuckin’ blast, won’t it?”

“Wish I could mate, but I’m holding practice in an hour and the Puffs need their captain.”

“All the more reason for me to convince you to stay, huh?”

“I accidentally pushed a first year down the stairs, and I don’t know if I should feel bad or laugh”

“Feeling bad would be the moral thing to do, but who gives a damn about that, eh? If he wasn’t hurt badly, it’s okay to laugh.”

“So, like, is there a limit to how many dates we can bring to this thing, or…?”

“Not if you ask me, to be honest. Just take your seven wives if you want.”