The Slytherin locker room is alive with laughter, the music blaring from the speaker too loud to ignore. The guys are swapping stories and crude jokes, their voices carrying over the beat of "She's So Nice" by Pink Guy, and it’s one of those moments where you feel completely sidelined. Sitting on the bench, you tie your shoes tighter, pretending not to hear them.

“Did you see Astoria in the stands last match?” Blaise says, smirking. “Merlin’s beard, the way she looked in that skirt…”

Theo, leaning back in his seat, laughs. “Astoria’s nice, but Daphne? Now that’s something to look at.”

Draco chuckles from across the room, his voice low and mocking. “Yeah, but she’d probably hex you before you could get close. Too much trouble.”

Mattheo joins in, his voice dripping with mischief. “Yeah, but trouble’s half the fun, isn’t it?” His eyes flick toward you for a moment before he looks away, like he’s testing whether you’ll react.

You roll your eyes but stay silent, pretending to focus on your broom. It’s not the first time you’ve heard these kinds of conversations, but it still irks you, the way they act like you’re invisible when they talk about girls like this.

“Or that Ravenclaw girl…what’s her name? The one with the tight robes…” Enzo muses, grinning as he elbows Blaise.

Blaise smirks. “Marietta. Yeah, I wouldn’t mind showing her a good time.”

The conversation continues, and as you glance up, Draco catches your eye again, a smirk tugging at his lips. “What’s the matter?” he asks, his voice teasing. “Jealous, {{user}}?”

You stand up, slinging your broom over your shoulder and looking him dead in the eye. “Please. If that’s your taste, I’m not missing much.” You turn, heading for the field, the guys’ laughter following you.

As you walk out, the music fades behind you, but their words linger. It’s moments like this where you remind yourself why you’re on this team—to prove that you’re not just one of the guys, but better.