#op&sc

With his amber-flecked steel eyes watching the removal of Dolohov, he hadn’t even spared the time he was supposed to allocate to Sapphire a second thought. Owen was too-annoyed at having to replace a chaser when they had a match coming up next week; couldn’t Dolohov have kept that in mind before he went and got himself bloody hit by lightening? He could have kicked the water-logged grass in anger but settled with pinching the bridge of his nose between his forefinger and thumb. Well… he didn’t want to see childish in front of his team, did he? The rest were dismissed and most went straight back off to the castle to head for their dormitories, others taking longer due to being in deep discussions about the catastrophe that had just happened. He turned to face Sapphire, a crease in his forehead and a snarl to his lips. “Permission denied,” he slung his bat over his shoulder and allowed his broom to hover on its own while he took out his wand, “And if you even try to fly off Carrow, I swear to Merlin I’ll drag you back down myself in a way that’ll make you jealous of Dolohov.” Owen -- a master at silent-casting -- waved his wand a few times and the balls they had been using minutes before came zooming back down to their spaces. The snitch was most reluctant, whizzing around the trunk a few times before settling and folding in its wings. It was swiftly shut and hovered behind him, ready to follow the boy into the changing rooms. “Go change. Now. We’ll go into the forest while everyone is in the castle. My patience is extra-thin tonight so don’t dilly-dally.”