His notes were a list of the names of those that had flown, and then curt one word assessments of their skills and personalites - mostly 'arse' or 'prat' or 'bumbling'. There were also crude drawings of himself hitting Vaisey upside the head with a broomstick, which admittedly didn't have much to do with anyone's caliber.
"I think we'll be as good as we've always been. Crabbe and Goyle, at least, can manage to knock off the heads of anyone who gets close to the goals."
He didn't mean to be colder to her than usual - he didn't even really he was being colder. There were just other things on his mind, and pretending to care about Quidditch, or classes, or any of it was even more tiring this year than it had been the year before when he was so sure he was almost through with all of this.