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"What in the name of Circe is going on here?"

He hadn't been expecting much. Drystan might have been kind and understanding of Odette's leave of absence, but that didn't diminish the arduous task of having to select and train one of the reserves in her place. Now that he need not have his attention divided between his home life, his pro-Quidditch life, and his pro-pro-Quidditch life, Drystan was intent on bringing his team back where it need to be. And, he was afraid, that might have been detracting slightly from his home life, but sacrifices needed to be made at some time or the other, no?

After a grueling morning of private practice between the reserves and himself, he'd allowed them a thirty minute reprieve for lunch, which he himself planned to take full advantage of. With the children at their respective caretakers and Bess at work, he had the time to himself, and felt that it was much needed. A moment or two to himself these days was rare, and far from underappreciated when it came along.

But, needless to say, it was not "a moment or two to himself," when he found a blonde and a brunette rolling about the floor of his living room, shouting at the top of their lungs. Not to mention that it was his blonde tussling like a savage, no less.

Shrugging out of his cloak, he immediately made for the two women, the dark-haired one's face obscured by the constant motion. With no wand, he had no choice but to try and extricate Bess as delicately and quickly as possible, hurrying to push himself between the two women.

"Enough!" he barked, looking between the two of them incredulously. Narrowing his eyes at the other woman, his frown deepened. Was that—