She looked spent, and Cammie couldn't help but worry what would happen if her nap turned into hours of sleep on the pitch. It wasn't dangerous as much as it was potential for trouble; Cammie remembered the detention that came in first year after being locked out of the common room with Hestia Fairchild.
"Not one of your brightest idea," he commented, resting back on his hands as he sprawled out on the grass. The breeze felt nice, but his quidditch robes stuck to his back with sweat, making it impossible to be fully comfortable. "Wouldn't you rather nap in your dorm? Or the common room at the very least? It's bound to get cold soon." And he didn't have a coat prepared to offer—and at any rate, he'd need one himself lest he freeze to death.
"Not one of your brightest idea," he commented, resting back on his hands as he sprawled out on the grass. The breeze felt nice, but his quidditch robes stuck to his back with sweat, making it impossible to be fully comfortable. "Wouldn't you rather nap in your dorm? Or the common room at the very least? It's bound to get cold soon." And he didn't have a coat prepared to offer—and at any rate, he'd need one himself lest he freeze to death.
