"It’s go time."

Chanyeol feels pretty badass after the words leave his mouth, because, let’s be honest, everything about him is badass at the moment.

The goggles give him an air of mystery, his stunning physique makes him look like some kind of model gone secret service spy agent, and the dungbombs in his hand and shoved into his pockets are the cherry on top, making him giddy with the power he holds in his palms.

Despite all this, however, Chanyeol is a little disappointed no one is around to witness his magnificence or hear his words of inspiration.

It’s just him and the dungbombs, waiting under one of the stands and looking for Baekhyun’s signal, a broomstick in his other hand, ready to fly and wreak havoc. 

Outside, the crowd roars with excitement, the game between Hufflepuff and Slytherin still neck-and-neck.

But Chanyeol doesn’t really care who wins.

His only goal once the game is over is to throw the dungbombs, and then, in the inevitable chaos that will unfold as a result, kidnap Slytherin’s Seeker.

Chanyeol would rub his hands together in evil-mastermind glee, but they’re full, so… yeah.

But he can still laugh maniacally, throwing his head back and cackling like they do in all of those Muggle movies.

Chanyeol chokes on his own spit.

Luhan is going to vomit.

He’s going to vomit and it’s going to land on one of the players or on some unfortunate student in the stands, and then he’ll be known as the stripper new-kid who puked that one time and destroyed Hufflepuff’s pride all in the same day.

Shouldn’t he have at least glimpsed the Snitch by now?

He hasn’t seen it once and his eyes are starting to get really tired from all of the intense staring he’s been doing.

Also, he lost Kai five minutes ago and he still hasn’t spotted the other Seeker.

What if Kai found the Snitch?

What if he’s right behind it right now and he’s catching it and, oh God, Lay is going to murder him.

He’s going to throw Luhan from the Astronomy Tower and then laugh about it afterwards even as tears of sorrow stream down his face.

And not because Luhan is dead. But because Hufflepuff lost.

The mental image is terrifying.

Luhan screams when a player suddenly whooshes by, convinced that Lay has already come for him.

But the player keeps going, a Slytherin girl who, two seconds later, gets wiped off her broom by a Bludger.

"And folks, that’s what I like to call a Slytherin strike out. Beautiful form, Hufflepuff, I love it."

Somewhere on the field, someone who sounds a lot like Kris screams in rage.

"Even if we lose, at least I’ll still be pretty."

Sehun smirks to himself, the thought very, very random but also very, very reassuring.

And true, very true.

The game is close, Hufflepuff still managing to edge in the lead somehow, and Sehun isn’t sure how much longer Kris is going to be able to handle it, especially coupled with Chen’s hilarious annoying comments that continue to ring out across the field.

Watching his captain having a nervous breakdown shouldn’t be this enjoyable.

Kris flies past, his face twisted in an expression of fury, his normally impervious hair somehow managing to finally, finally, lose its own composure and stick up in every way imaginable.

He kind of looks like an angry knarl.

Sehun sighs, because, despite his amusement at seeing the intimidating Kris Wu throw a tantrum like a five-year-old child, he knows him and the rest of the team will have to deal with it later if they lose.

Kris will have to be wrapped in at least five blankets and cuddled by all of them in front of the Slytherin fireplace, someone in charge of making him hot chocolate and someone else responsible for telling Kris how great of a player he is, how wonderful of a captain he is, how handsome he is in general.

Sehun remembers the one time they had refused to comfort him and shudders.

Kris had turned into a wailing, blanket-covered creature that had roamed the common room at night and had made horrible moans and had eaten way too many chocolate frogs until Tao, Sehun, and Kai had found him with chocolate all over his face and running in circles near the windows that looked out into the Great Lake after a first-year had hurtled into their room at two in the morning terrifie