Merlin knows how many times the Ravenclaw doubled back and forth along the corridors and the stairs towards this class, not really wanting to continue what he feels is desecrating a corpse, and also still incredibly paranoid that the contagion was still hanging in the air and clinging to the walls of the Potions classroom. Had he been a little less studious and a lot more stubborn, he wouldnt find himself crossing the threshold of the dungeons once again.

He entered the clasroom with his lips pressed tightly together and gave a curt but still respectful nod at the Potions Mistress. No he wasnt being rude... more like, he was trying not to breathe too much of the air down here.

He made his way to his last seat and may have quickly scourgified every conceivable surface area of where his body will make contact. Finally he sat himself down, lips still pressed together, tense blue eyes trained elsewhere other than the splayed stiff on the table...