Plymouth sprawled out on his belly and reached for Daphne's hand. He was kind of squishing her, but THINKING lightweight thoughts to help. Plymouth pressed her wand into her hand....

... but when the PANTS took a curve into the BOYS' BATHROOM, Plymouth got knocked off. The door hit him in the butt and pushed him head over feet over Daphne.

He sprawled in the bathroom floor on his back as the Pants and Daphne carried on their way...

It was taking a LONG time for his pants to show up. Pepe finally just sat down on the pot to wait because it was awkward just standing there with nothing on his bottom half except shoes and socks. And then he heard commotion outside which turned to commotion inside. "What's going on out there?" he called.

This was a terrible turn of events. Closing her eyes she grasped the wand tightly, even as she was dragged into the--Oh. "Oh no no! Bad pants!" she chastised the flying garment and tried grabbing the nearest sink to stop herself.

That didn't work very effectively. Pointing her wand at her own face, Daphne took a deep breath. "FINITE INCAN--"

Hello, compartment door. My face is very happy to make your acquaintance. In a daze, Daphne slid down the compartment door even as the pants insisted on making it inside. Untangling herself slowly, the blond groaned. "I don't know, sir!" she called out to the adult voice. "Why don't you tell me?"

UGH. She hated pants!

Oh dear. This was not good. Headmaster Bontecou stood up and reached over to snatch the pants as they continued to try and get to him. The moment he touched them the spell was complete. "Are you hurt?" he asked, not that there was much he could do about it just yet. "Let me get some pants on and we'll set things right. What happened?"

Plymouth rolled around on the floor for a second before hopping up to his feet to chase after Daphne. He burst through the stall - "OH."


Oh. Oh indeed.


...


Plymouth bent down next to Daphne and put a hand over her eyes. "Are you OKAY?? The ... pants. They were ... tangled.." Plymouth used his free hand to to disentangle her bracelet from the pants leg ... of the Headmaster.

Awwwwkkkwwwarrrrrrrrdd. Plymouth held her wrist, so sure she was hurt and beat to a pulp and it was all his fault. "Let's... give the Headmaster some privacy." With his hand still over her eyes, and the other on her wrist, Plymouth moved them OUT of the stall.

Oh.

Oh.

Ohohohoh! Just as Daphne was shutting her eyes, Plymouth slipped his warm hand over her eyes. Blushing profusely she decided to remain mute and let the young man drag her away. Far Far away. To wherever he wanted.

Daphne didn't think it really mattered where she went anymore. She would never be the same again. Instinctively, she shuddered.

He cleared his throat. "Thank you," he said and quickly slipped into his pants, socks, and shoes. Headmaster Bontecou stepped out of the cubicle and began cleaning his glasses in a moment reminiscent of Professor Branxton. Then, he stepped out of the bathroom.

James walked into one of the stalls, trying to catch his breath. He was late for Potions! He looked through his bag looking for the book and he wanted to be alone. Accidently, when he found his book he knocked out of the bottom of his bag a dung bomb he had bought last year. It fell into the toliet and (magically) flushed down, the smell starting to hit James nose. He took his stuff and ran.