Alice got a DRY chair. Because she was an MC, mmhmm. She felt excited. What was better than sitting back and watching a bunch of old people get drenched? Nothing, obviously. The little fourth year hopped over to her Muggle Studies professor as soon as she saw her, offering the lady a smile. "Hullo, Professor Cerulean," she greeted, still beaming, but now eyeing the podium. She didn't have to get on that thing NOW, did she?

So she just stood below it, right next to her DRY chair, watching the professor with wide eyes and waiting for more old people to arrive. Yeah, the ones that were going to get dunked. This was entertainment, yeah?

Fidget.

Sherman was nervous. Very nervous. He had questions, first of all. WHERE was he supposed to put his wheelchair?! What if his narcolepsy acted up in the middle of this debate and he dozed off? What if he had to get dunked? It wasn't good manners to drop the elderly into tubs of freezing water, was it? He didn't want to be shoved into one of those. Which meant he had to give answers, and good ones.

Fidget. Again.

The candidate wheeled over to the chairs set up for him and his opponents (yeah, it wasn't EASY getting on that platform while sitting on this hunk of metal, but he managed), picking out the one that had his name on it and carefully nudging it out of the way to make room for his wheelchair. "Yes, that sounds absolutely fine, miss," he informed the professor with a tentative smile, reassuring her right after that Phillips boy.

And.. now.. what? Fidget more? He could do that, easily.