It was back to the scene of the crime. He'd always liked the Irie Room. Not least of all this year for it's promise of warmth, but for the happy memories of manipulation and throwing an older student under the bus here. Right here. In this very spot. Cutty was smiling just thinking about it and feeling that warmth penetrate his many layers of clothing.

Not unlike a banana, he began to peel layer after layer after layer of charmed clothing off. He had created his very own textile incubator for himself.



"Nice shirt, Mordaunt!" He teased, but not maliciously. Having gotten a clearer read on Ethan through their encounters, the boy's flair was something Cutty could find useful. A distraction through bedazzlement. Yes. Everyone, look at Ethan Mordaunt.




"Adair,...Whitty." He greeted the other two boys present before his attention was momentarily taken by Cambridge and Hirase. He calmly, almost downright serenely smiled. Slytherin had this. He gave a subtly elbow nudge toward Whitty as if to say 'do you see that?'


Eventually, Cutty's own very skinny and VERY pale body was stripped down to nothing but swimming trunks. He pulled out a pair of sunglasses and laid back to possibly regain some of the colour he'd lost since coming back to England post-summer. In the reflection of his shades he could see the little Ravenclaw girl helping herself to a hammock. Oooh, bad choice, kidda. "Zander, where does yer name coom from? What are yew?" Adair sounded a bit like an altered through time desert name to Cutty.