Kingston's eyes slightly widened at what Borr had asked them to do. Well, here goes, he gloomily thought as he slowly sat down on the bowl, wetting his pants. Since none of the other boys were doing this, he thought about leading them... Trying to be a role model? "Oh merlins," he whispered, shutting his eyes in disgust.

He just had to do this, hadn't he?

Taking a deep breath, he opened his eyes and looked at Borr. He hoped the man would give him points for sitting down on this ruddy thing. He hadn't lied. But he had a feeling he had to do it to prove himself once more.

Do what? Sebastian stared at the History Of Magic teacher for a few seconds, until his knees seemed to give way. Out of fear of the big man, or of loosing house points, he didn't know. But.. Ughh... Call him girly, but this made him squeamish and... Ugh. He looked down at the bowl, he just knew he'd hate it eventually.

Do what?

Shel stood there, open mouthed. He wished he could leave, run - yes, run - as far away from Cooper's school as possible. And perhaps take dear Lord Borr along, and drown him in the Koi Pond in the process.

But he couldn't. He was here, in the class, and Borr was in command.

And he couldn't lose Gryffindor fifty points.

So he said, "Yes, sir!" and did it. He did not show the dis-ease, or the horror, or the frustration. His face was impassive, and he might have been pleased, from what his expressions narrated.

And the bowl was wet. And he hated it.

He was NEVER going to attend History of Magic with Borr again. Never.

Antwone's eyes widen in amazement. He had expected that they'd learn how to wash there hands in warm water but this ... this was too much. He wanted to obey, to seem as though he was agreeable but there were certain lines that one did not cross. He looked around bewildered. One student was already within his tub, enjoying himself somehow. Why did they all have to sit in the warm bowl of water when only few lied? The young wizard did not know what to do. He was torn between self-pride and obedience and he knew he was taking too much time standing there dumbfounded. It's okay, this is nothing. You're a wizard, dry it off after class.

Yes, that's all he had to do. Suck up his selfish dignity and sit. He had been through much more terrible things in his past. Only a few more days, he thought to himself. He could feel a presence within him, trying to get out with his rising anger. He knew it was calling to him, knew that it was almost time for it to make its appearance again. Control, Antwone. Remember, control. The fourth year took a deep breath, closed his eyes and sat in the water, letting its warm temperature overtake him. Squinting his eyes, he thought of how much he hated the fat blob that was standing before him, too massive to even bend down in his own bowl if he tried.

This was not right. Surely there were like, laws or something that wouldn't allow the Professor to treat students like this! It was an outrage! Clifford folded his arms stubbornly across his chest, brow furrowed in defiance.

He was NOT a baby. And he was NOT about to wet his pants.

But fifty points sure was a hell of a lot to go and lose. After all that effort he'd been putting into homework too! Argh! Not only was he afraid of losing points though, he was afraid Lord Ogre up there would sit on him till he died of suffocation.

Sigh.

Life was so unfair.

Squatting down till the back of his trousers barely, barely, BARELY touched the water, Clifford's face broke out into an unexpected grin. "Ooooooh. It tickles!"

Sebastian turned and smirked towards the older Slytherin. But he was right. It was actually quite a nice sensation, once you got past the inital shock of sitting in water. He looked back up at Lord Borr, and simply blinked a couple of times, then lowered his head. Perhaps it's life skills? He thought with a grin, his fringe hiding his amusement.

Jose sat in the bowl of water but made a metal note to see the head about him.

Flynn put the bowl of water on the floor. He had mistakenly thought that this was because they were moving on from cleanliness to something else - maybe something a little more important and relevant? But how wrong was Flynn.

When Lord Borr asked them to sit on the bowls, the first worry was not that his cool pink pygmy puff boxers were going to get wet, but that he wasn't sure he would be able to get OUT of the bowl afterwards. Then the threat of fifty points came and Flynn knew he HAD to do it. After all, it wasn't humiliating if everyone was doing it? It was, therefore the common norm.

However, just as he had feared, Flynn tried to get out of the bowl and couldn't. With much struggle and wriggling and no help from his ruddy classmates, he toppled forward pouring water ALL over the floor and he screamed in fright as he saw his plastic bowl make way for Lord Borr. As you could imagine, time appeared to stop and profanities were running through Flynn's head like a dog in heat. He hoped to Merlin the bowl would just MISS Borr. "Please," he pleaded to no one in particular.

Wet his pants? What. the HAIL? Will's hand shot up. "Professor? I'm not refusing to sit --" Yet.he thought. "But I'd like a bit of clarification. First, you said you won't have weak, lyin' babies in your school. Then you said babies wet their pants. Seems to me that by that reckonin', if I sit down in that bowl yonder, I'm making myself into exactly what you don't want in your school. And I'd hate to disappoint you like that, sir."

Jason thinks Wet his pants-this man is crazy. He sits in the bowl to make sure Gryffindor does not lose 50 points. Jason will never go to this class again.

Well reasoned, Antwone thought as he got out of his bowl. His robes and pants wet.

Maddox's jaw dropped to the floor. He couldnt believe that this maniac was a teacher. But he didnt want to lose points. He reminded himself that he was a fifth year wizard and knew how to dry himself off. he couldnt believe he was about to do this.


Maddox took a deep breath and slowly sat down in the bowl. He couldnt believe he was doing this. He got so angry his face was turning red. He stood up and dryed himself. 'crazy manic coo coo bananas teacher.' He thought to himself as he cleaned up the water off the floor and put the bowl back onhis desk and sat down.

Jason got up. His face turned red. beet red.

WHAT?

Cale mouth fell open in shock. This was absolutely absurd! His nails were fine! What was the point of this lesson, that all men had dirty fingernails and if they didn't admit it, they were going to be punished? This was a load of rubbish! Groaning, he sat down in the bowl. This had to be the most embarrassing thing he had ever done in his whole life. Absolutely HORRIBLE!

He looked at Shel and rolled his eyes. This whole class was a joke. He was never attending Borr's class again. Never. Forget trying to get on his good side, too. Who cared if the Ministry liked Cale Newell or not? Certainly not him. If he kept up what he was doing--which was, biting his tongue and just doing what they told him to--he would be fine.

Iggy stared at Berty. He was not about the put his brand new trousers in a bowl of water. What if they shrank? They were rather expensive and he didn't want to risk the shrinkage.

He eyed the bowl on his desk and chuckled as he watched some of the boys around him dunking themselves in the bowl of warm water. This guy was crazy.

Ignatius continued to lounge on his chair. He dabbed his little finger in the water. It was still a bit too warm for his liking.

Now that the back of his trousers were wet, Clifford wasn't entirely bothered. Hey, they would dry, right? He didn't really see what the other boys were fussing over now. It wasn't half bad this, and with an uncharacteristic-like gigglesnort sound, Clifford wiggled his backside in the bowl of water, causing small splashes and tiny waves. Hehehehe.

Lord Borr looked down as the water and the idiot fell towards him. Water splattered his immaculately clean and pressed pants. "TELL ME SON, tell me, TRULY - for you - is that difficult TO SIT IN A BOWL OF WATER? Is that TOO MUCH TO ASK OF YOU?"

Lord Borr splashed through the huge puddled on the floor, precariously wiggled this way and that, and loomed over the young idiot on the floor. "Put your thumb in your mouth and stay on the floor for the rest of this lesson. You act like a baby, you get TREATED like a baby!"

Then Lord Borr turned, slowly, his eyed narrowed to the one that spoke. His very own Boy Scout. "Do you dare to imply that you know more than me? JUST WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE? You are a peasant in the presence of a KING! You have three seconds to get that rump in the water and learn your lesson before I come over there and TEACH YOU PERSONALLY!"


Lord Borr was spitting mad. "The rest of you - SIT. STAY seated! The rest of class will take place from your NEW seats! YOUR BABY seats!"



"Shall I take fifty now and fifty later?"

Kingston stared as all of the boys started to get up from their bowls. Not him. He wasn't going to stand up. No way. Not until Borr tells him to. He had this stabbing feeling that Borr will appreciate him more if he didn't stand up.

Oh how Kingston hoped so.

"I... I...," Flynn tried to explain not quite finding the words because he was truly terrified of what Borr might do to him. He heard rumours that he kept a cane in the cupboard and he could only thank Merlin that Borr only got splashed, "I am so sorry sir, I just have short legs." He pointed down towards them with a look of disgust at what his mother and father had genetically made.

Deciding to talk no further he sat on the, now wet floor, and shoved his thumb in his mouth. Now this was humiliating. He closed his eyes so he didn't have to look at the other boys in the class.

"Well Sir. My trousers are rather expensive and are dry clean only. I am waiting for the water to cool. I do not wish to have shrunken trousers. It would make one look rather ridiculous," Iggy smiled.

Barry wasn`t sure if he wanted to get on Lord Borrs side it was very hard after all. He also hated Kingston he had taken a spot in Borrs crew before he had so it was harder for him. He made a mental note to be freinds with Kingston. Barry stayed seated this was so humiliating.

Jose sat down. He was very close to throwing the water all over Lord Borr.

Damnit. Will sighed inwardly. "Meant no disrespect, sir, of course. Just wanted to be sure I was understanding the lesson." Will smiled at him, carefully hiding his resentment at the man's attempt to debase him and his class. He eyed the bowl. Oh, it was a wee thang! But, whatever. The act was no big deal; it was what the man was trying to accomplish that was utterly abusive and bogus and Will was, in fact, infuriated. "My pop always says a man sometimes has to take one for the team. So I'm doin' this-- for Slytherin House." He muttered, and plopped himself into the bowl of water.

"Twenty-five points from Slytherin for Ignatius Potter thinking FAR FAR FAR too highly of himself." Lord Borr would win this contest and Mr. Potter would learn his place!

Lord Borr watched his Ex-Boy Scout with intense eyes. The ends of his mustache wiggled. "WELL? Are you boys going to single-handedly take away Slytherin's lead?"



Lord Borr was growing very tired of these disobedient fools. "Look at Kingston! Look at Sheldon! Barry and Liam! LOOK AT THEM! They're doing it, they're not tooo good, and I commend them. THEY are LEARNING. Bravo!"


"I would like for everyone to remain seated and use the provided nail clippers to trim your nails, please. Let's not make today a TOTAL waste!"

Antwone sat himself in a seat, finding it easier to obey this order than the previous. But what had any of this had to do with History? Certainly an arrogant wizard such as the professor would have basked in wizard's glory in history.

He took up a few Muggle clippers and started trimming his filthy nails, which he knew he would be doing well with getting rid of. We really should at least be using magic.