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So, with new fervor, Plymouth went on a search for Daphne's wand. In her pocket. Pocket. SHE HAD MANY POCKETS. ThudThudThud. Swiftly, Plymouth searched each pocket meticulously. He tossed out tissue, a bottle of something or another, lots of random pieces of papers....
... thank Merlin she didn't have that blasted duck in a pocket like someone else he knew would...
"AHA! WAND!" Plymouth found the booty and held it up high! SUCCESS!!! "You okay, Daphadil??? HANG ON!"
Directing Plymouth towards the appropriate pocket was proving to be difficult so instead of focusing on how uncomfortable this situation was, Daphne tried to keep her shins from bumping into more steps. Her legs were going to be sporting several black and blues later. "I'm fine!" declared the blond even though she really wasn't. "I'll be even better once I get this off me!" The pants legs were now busy wrapping themselves around her neck and waist, as if threatening to just. try. it.
They weren't afraid of no wand.
"Hand me the wand, Morgan! Once we're free. I'm shoving these pants down the toilet!"