Ooze
It was well into the night when squishing footsteps entered the Slytherin boys' dormitory. Up the stairs they went and to the back of the large room they stopped. Hovering over the bed of a tousled Rodolphus Lestrange, the footsteps ceased.
Silence.
Ding. Ding. Ding.
The footsteps attacked with a loud thump which was followed by a shrill shriek. Lights flew on and there was Rodolphus, pale and covered in muddy handprints, while a hysterical Tom Riddle rolled off the bed in a fit of laughter, completely covered in dirty mud.
"Happy Halloween, ole chap!" he chortled from the floor.
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