"We’re here to help," Potter stated, and fuck if Draco believed him. Rolling his eyes, he reached for his towel discarded carelessly on the bench. His teammates were still up on their brooms, a bit restless because of their seemingly angry captain and less than stellar weather conditions. The wind today made the training more difficult than usual, his broom was acting moody, nobody was cooperating with him or other teammates, and it all overall sucked. He wanted to curl up by the fireplace in the common room again instead of freezing his ass up on the pitch doing useless shit.