...Merlin's pants.

This was...an exciting class, eh? And not because of the POOP.

Sophie Brown was doing an excellent job--but he wondered----hmmm. Was the kid........faking? Did he secretly hope Miss Brown would give him CPR or something?! GAH PRE-TEENS AND TEENAGERS. He often forgot what it was like...all those......hormones and whatnot. EEEEEE.

"Wait, Miss Burton, I don't think---" but it was too late. Water. All over Mr. Bronwyn.

Paul rubbed his face...but was relieved that the kid was UP and about. Well then. "Miss Burton--thank you--I don't think that was necessary--and I probably wouldn't recommend you do that again--it's quite rude--" he was chuckling slightly though...

"Mr. Bronwyn--it's nothing a well-placed drying charm can't fix--" he pointed his wand at the boy's clothes and whispered the incantation, hot air sifting from his wand and onto Rooney. Hopefully he would be...less wet and cold in a few seconds. "Mr. Bronwyn--how far did you on your compost?" he asked softly, looking up at the kids' workplace.

...did the kid just slap him?

Paul had been slapped. SLAPPED.