"Miss Moony, you insult me," he returned playfully. "Of course I like trouble." His detention record spoke for itself, and over the past few years he'd become something of a professional at knowing exactly how much he could push one of the professors or staff members before he got into any real trouble. She knew that already, though; she wouldn't be teasing him with her skirts if he wasn't the sort to play into it.

He left his shoes behind and went into the shallows, feeling the mud between his toes. It was a sensation that was at once wholly innocent, conjuring up memories of a childhood spent trudging through the wilderness at the edge of the grounds, and strangely illicit. Maybe it was just the idea of having anything between his toes, given how buttoned-up the staff preferred everyone to be all the time. He wasn't going to be able to go out as deep as her, unless he was willing to trudge back into the castle with wet pant legs clinging conspicuously to his calves. There simply wasn't a way for him to pull his trousers up the way she had... but he was loathe to let her be the one who had been more daring, of the two of them.

"Y'know, I think Professor Ruskin approves of secret trouble," he joked as an idea occurred to him. He shifted his weight and pulled his wand from his pocket. "Otherwise I can't think why he would have taught us this." And then he cast the very spell they'd learned earlier that week in Charms class — conjuring a dense fog cloud, to keep them concealed from prying eyes.

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