Terry knew how to run. One step after the other, breathe in through your nose, breathe out through your mouth. Had someone told her the laps Bones had imposed as a punishment for being a smartass would have served her later in life, she would have laughed, and maybe even thrown some mud at them, because running on the slippery, muddy grounds of the pitch in a rainy day while everyone else flied high above you was the perfect recipe for a foul mood.
Yes, she was a good runner, which was why she was barely out of breath when she caught sight of the three redheads, Lupin and professor McGonagall. They looked worried, and though curiosity stirred inside her, prompting her to ask what was going on (asides from the obvious chasing of Chase… hm), the prospective of a hundred points deterred her, though she was, at the very least, smart enough to pause, moving some hair away from her face (in her hurry, she hadn’t bothered to tie it back) as she listened. Wand? Hexes? Shawls? Well, she knew nothing about that…
… And, to be honest, she didn’t quite care, either. As far as she knew, no one had died, and the reason why the medi-wizard wanted to see Chase so badly escaped her. Maybe it was so he could punish the boy for something? It sounded likely, though everything her mind was set on at the moment was winning. If there was something Terry didn’t lack, it was loyalty to her house, and a fierce will to win—or, at least, to keep others from doing so (because, bloody hell, A HUNDRED POINTS!).
“…Well, I feel like I missed something,” she chimed in, glancing between the people gathered in the corridor’s crossing.