Mo meandered his way into the classroom and squatted beside Professor Flamsteed, peering into the tank and stroking his chin as he tried to see whatever it was the professor was looking for. Hmmm. Hmm. Fish? Maybe there were fish?

And ugh, he had definitely been playing too hard at Quidditch tryouts over the past few days, Mo decided as he straightened back up and felt the muscles in his back and legs protest. Why in the world was Flamsteed standing like that when it was so brutal on his body?

Mo gave himself a roll-over with the lint roller, ignoring the sign that had been placed there specifically for him. That had been JUST ONE TIME, OKAY? Merlin, some people had long memories. He climbed over a few people to get to a seat beside Nigel, who was looking completely unconcerned. Must not be aching from all that Quidditch. "Hey, mate. These evening classes are brutal, aren't they?" He dropped a hand on Nigel's shoulder for balance as he shifted into his seat.

And maybe sighed with relief now that he was there. What a day.