Lyra carried her DRY shoes in one hand as her other dangled next to her. She should have gone to the common room to change and clean up but something told her to head here first, Slytherin or not. If anyone said a word about her HORRIBLE WET ATTIRE, she was going to flip. Her hair was stuck to her head, her clothing was not much better, but all in all, she was FREEZING.

Her green eyes shifted back and forth as she saw that strange lady from the staff table at the opening feast and Mr. Groundskeeper. Well, everyone was wet, this was fun.