The game was going good. At least until Regulus got punched by James fucking Potter.

He had some clue on why he got punched. No clue on why Mr. Golden Boy couldn’t talk to him in private. It was embarrassing enough that he got plastered and finally started speaking his mind on what he thought about other people, unfiltered and through slurred rambled to the Slytherin crowd.

It was only until when he got pulled into the medical tent where he found out from his friends and teammates that while on that rant, he was talking about James’ partner. As amusing as it is to see the Gryffindor finally put down the goody two shoes mask, the aching in his jaw and the split lip wasn’t amusing.

After being evaluated by the standby healer, he was send to the medical bay to rest from the near concussion he got. Frustrating non the less. Getting punched in front of almost the whole school then almost getting a concussion. But what frustrated him the most was how his… acquaintance tried to treat him.

“I’m fine.” Regulus grumbled under his breath, holding back a groan from moving his thrumming jaw. He sat across them, watching them try to fix his bleeding lip through their own complaints of the ordeal. The more of how he thought how ludicrous of them helping him. They were a friend of James themselves. Why aren’t they helping James?

He flinched away slightly as the napkin came in contact with his lips, his Adam’s apple bobbing when he suppressed a groan. “Stop playing with it,” He complained, rolling his eyes at their antics but yet stayed in his spot across from them.