MacFusty and his damned morning practices. Why? Clearly, MacFusty wasn't a woman who knew the length of time it took to get ready in the morning. Quidditch practice left everyone sweaty, tired, and red-faced, including Pru. Not only would she need to bathe so she didn't feel sticky and smell awful, but she'd have to style her hair into something manageable, redress in her too many layers of clothes — including lacing her corset ugh — but today she'd also started her monthly. Naturally, she felt even drained and achy.

She'd thought she could manage for the morning practice, take a tonic for the discomfort at breakfast and carry on throughout the day as planned. It was after a quarter of an hour of flying around that she realized that this had been a terrible, terrible mistake. Irritable and crampy, she'd been forced to sit out for most of practice. When questioned, she'd outright told MacFusty what was up, which left the captain scrambling back to the sky as quickly as possible.

Handsome joined her on the bench some time later. She didn't know much about him outside of quidditch, aside from his being Head Boy. With her feet tucked up on the bench and her arms wrapped around her knees, she wasn't sitting at all like a lady, but at this point in time, she didn't care. It gave her some respite from her discomfort and that was all that mattered. Besides, the quidditch team had to expect her to behave in non-lady-like ways. They wouldn't at all be surprised.

"Mmm," She responded non-noncommittally to his first question — even she wasn't going to announce to the head boy that it was her time of the month. His next question was met with an offended nostril flare and a flick of her eyebrow, "I've been trying out every year since third year. I wanted to be a beater, but seeker was what I scored highest in." Like she'd just tried out on a whim! She'd worked hard to make the team. She tossed the hair that had come loose from her braid behind her shoulder, "Regardless, I'm going to be a Harpie."