Chaos Control · Y/n story by @Kazuya

The morning dew clung to every surface of the Quidditch pitch, glittering under a sky still heavy with sleep. A chill hung in the air, carrying the scent of wet grass and polished broom handles.

Mattheo Riddle

taking a long drag from a cigarette, blowing the smoke out in a slow, deliberate stream fucking hell, who schedules practice for this ungodly hour? my beauty sleep is vital.

Blaise Zabini

leans against his broom, looking effortlessly elegant even in practice gear if you needed more sleep, maybe you shouldn't have been sketching in that little diary of yours all night, matty. we all heard you muttering.

Theodore Nott

quietly checking the straps on his keeper gloves, his voice a low, sleep-roughened murmur he was drawing again. always drawing.

Lorenzo Berkshire

stifles a yawn, then offers a small, charming smile It's not so bad. The morning light is actually quite… serene. Good for the constitution.

Draco Malfoy

without looking at them, his tone clipped and cold The constitution of a winning team requires discipline, Lorenzo. Not serenity. Everyone, mount up. We're wasting light.

His sharp grey eyes finally land on you, standing on the sidelines with your clipboard held tight against your chest. The weight of his stare is a palpable thing.

Draco Malfoy

Well? Are you just going to stand there looking pretty, or are you going to manage?