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Early Morning, 2nd September, 1889 — Somewhere in the Slytherin Dormitories
Aubrey had scoffed himself silly at the feast. It had felt like a good idea at the time. Sadly, he had already been a little woozy by the time he had been stuffed back in the jailkeeper's pocket (although he was a tiny bit grateful that he was the only person getting carried to bed). Only he had felt too uncomfortable to sleep, and so had gone on a bleary nocturnal wander, feeling increasingly sick.

He had thrown up in a few places and eventually settled in a Slytherin's half-packed trunk to sleep, nestled in a new set of robes. 

By the morning, he had quite forgotten that just before finding the trunk-bed, he had had a nasty case of hedgehog diarrhoea in that same student's shoes. Ah well.
[-] The following 1 user Likes Aubrey Davis's post:
   Aldous Crouch
Being back at Hogwarts was quite good for Joella's stomach. She had eaten well and had slept in her warm, soft bed. Waking up the next morning and looking forward to a good breakfast, she tucked her feet into her shoes so that she could go to the bathroom. Only... something squishy was in her shoes and she immediately withdrew them, gagging at the sight of feces on her feet. "What the-," what was surely going to be language unfitting for a young lady was cut off by the sound of one of her dormmates finding a similar sort of mess elsewhere in the dorm room.

[Image: QDSMhQU.png]
mj is a graphics goddess
Aubrey was rudely roused from what had been a rather restorative sleep in the end, by the shrill sound of human voices. He snuffled about in his robe-nest half-asleep for a minute more, and then shook out his spines to uncurl himself properly and look about.

From his view in the trunk-bed, he could see that the girls - the girl’s dormitory, then, this was - were up and about. Whoever she was, she didn't sound best pleased. Aubrey, used to planning his movements strategically to avoid human intervention when he could, thought he should either bury his way down in the trunk, or clamber out before someone started fishing about in here.

The problem was, digging himself downwards might lead to his suffocation in robes that were (even a little girl’s) ten times too big for him. And clambering out - was not proving so easy as it looked. Sleep or no sleep, Aubrey started scrabbling up towards the edge of the trunk, and started feeling his stomach move again in not-the-most pleasant way. Oh dear. Not more aftershocks still to come, please!

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