Jeorge kept his eye on things. Miss Joshi with the vinegar, and Miss Schultz with sorting. Miss Montmorency and Bay were using the potatoes. "Good." Mr. Cadwallader seemed satisfied with his explanation on wive's tales. Quirly handled his other question nicely with the baking soda's instructions on the board. "Thank you Quirly, just a little scrub will do, start off softly then add more friction, but not too rough." And Algamus was doing what he did best, so he thanked them both.

"Good work, everyone," Jeorge announced. It was time for the next step. "The hard part is over; now we're going to load them into the washing machines. If you're still working on a stain, you can finish up before loading them in here." He gestured towards the machines. "What we have here are called 'Front Loaders,' which means the door for loading and placing the clothes is on the front. Normally, laundry machines have top openings where clothes are dropped in."

He continued, "It's mostly a matter of preference; front loaders are more convenient because you can easily see what's happening inside them and they take up less space in the home. The dryers are typically front loaders as well, when you have a washing machine like this, they can be stacked on another." Now they could get to the loading.

He brought over a sorted set from the nearby basket. "Now you could dump all the clothes in there and just start it with Normal or Heavy Duty. But based on the material of the clothing, you can risk some of your clothes coming out ruined. Either faded colors, shrinking in size, shredding, or even turning pink from mixing red and white together." Why that happens, is another story. "Next to the dial here," he gestured to the protruding circular tab that can be turned. "This is where you'll find the settings. Depending on the type of material you have, the machine will automatically apply the appropriate washing settings to clean them safely. The settings will adjust the water temperature and the cleaning duration. Ultimately, it's up to us to decide what to use. You can further customize specific options, but for today, we're just going to leave the settings at their default. So pay close attention."

Professor Leroy awaited for people to take in the information. He didn't shirk on the details. "Now despite these settings, to be frank, most just stick to using one or two settings their entire time of using the machines. It really comes down to preference and most convenient. Someone who never wears white, will always pick the settings that use the coolest temperatures, such as delicate and colors, but may just rely on Fast Wash." Which brings the next task. "With all that you have separated, I want you to pick just one sorted load to place into the washing machine of your choice. It can be only colors, only whites, etc. And then with the rest, we will sort it into another one, and select Fast Wash, to accommodate the time we have in the lesson, and see what comes from the machine. Now, do not worry, if the material comes out not the way you expect it, we have magical ways of fixing it after the lesson." His eyes seemed to spark a twinkle in the moment, that he would deny if asked later.

"Now, once you have selected the clothes you want to wash. This is very important, we need soap, Laundry detergent. So next to the dial on the left here, there's a handle for us to pull out a tray. This tray is attached to the machine, and it indicates what type of liquid here to pour in and how much. We're only going to work with Laundry detergent, so no beach or fabric softener today. So taking a bottle of laundry detergent." Leroy, picked up the dark green bottle, removing the cap. "Carefully, pour some until it reaches the line. It's okay if it's a little bit over the line. And if it splashes out, you can just wipe it with one of the clothes. Preferably the cleanest part of the clothes."

"After you've poured enough detergent in, close the tray. Open the machine's front door, and place the clothes inside before shutting the door. The power button next to the dial here you will press." Professor Leroy demonstrated the instructions, pointing at the power button before pressing. "See how all the lights are on? This is when we adjust the dial to.... Fast Wash, well in this case. Once you're satisfied, then you push the next button here that says 'Hold to start' until a sound indicates it's about to start. It'll lock the door first before the cycle begins." He held it for a solid two seconds before a short jingle played, and removing his finger he heard a click noise. Before the machine started to fill with water, visible through the clear circular door. Eventually, once enough water had filled in mixed with the soap, the clothes began to spin, giving a rhythmic rumble. "In case you forget," Professor Leroy tapped his wand on another part of the board, showcasing the instructions and spin cycle differences.


"Again, you will load one set of dirty laundry into a machine, set the dial to the appropriate setting. And then in another machine, load in the rest choosing Fast Wash. The machines have been altered to go a little faster to fit our class time, so after you've done the steps, all that's left is waiting, say... ten minutes on the quick loaded one. That's enough time for you to jot down your notes if you haven't already, read, or you can even help another person if you want. But keep the chatter focused on the task at hand."

ooc: Good work. Now you're loading two sets of dirty laundry into the machines. There's plenty machines to go around. Don't forget to add soap beforehand. If just joining in, act as if you've been here all along. You have about 72 hours with this task.

For the most part, Krittika happily went about ignoring grumpy Alagmus’ mutterings and disapproval for the Muggle remedies. She, on the other hand, thought some of them were brilliant. They would be even more so if they actually worked. Quirly’s presence, however, could not be ignored, and it was not just because the elf had come forward with an encouraging word. “Thank you,’’ Kritti remarked fondly to the elf, her heart absolutely being captivated yet again by her. “Pinksies is the prettiest colour out there. Would you say so?” Even if Quirly disagreed, this Ravenclaw wanted to know what the elf thought. And even if Professor Leroy yelled at her for chitchatting.

But the main thing was, she was paying attention and following the teaching instructions.

Muggles might use washers and dryers to save time and make their days lighter but the preparation certainly was lengthy, goodness! Not to mention there was a lot to remember during that process plus when one actually loaded the washers. She frowned slightly without really thinking about it. At this rate, magically cleaning clothing would always be her go-to method. Her mind filled with information, Krittika took a look at the piles she had sorted. To be on the safe side as it was her first time using one of these contraptions, she would start with the whites.

Following Leroy’s lead, some detergent was poured into the tray diligently until it reached the line. The white clothing was then added to the washer after the detergent tray was closed. Once the door too was closed, Krittika eyes all the tiny writing on the washers. Power button… oh, there it was! She happily pressed it and watched the thing light up, sort of like the way she did whenever she saw Dio. Though obviously without the lights. With the dial set to ‘Fast Wash’, the ‘hold to start’ button was prodded. There came a cheery little jingle and the clicky sound which told the young woman she was doing well so far. Soon enough, the washer was filled with water and the cycle began.

Okay, this part wasn’t so bad. She now had a load of confidence to deal with the rest of the sorted clothing.

Xerxes' head was spinning from the complicated instructions. Muggle Studies, and in particular Muggle methods of cleaning, were not his forte. He had never been exposed to such things. But he supposed that was why this class was so important for him. Still, the menial and labor-intensive nature of the task through him for a loop.

To start, Xerxes selected one of his sorted piles to wash first. He chose the pile of formal wear (suits, gowns, slacks, and ties). He loaded the clothes into the washing machine. Next, he took a large plastic jug of laundry detergent and added some to the small compartment at the top-right corner of the machine. He filled up the compartment all the way up to the "fill" line. He then shut the compartment. Next it was time to select which "setting" to place the machine on. After reading them all three times, he decided upon the "Delicate" setting. Suits and satin gowns would need special handling. Once the door to the washing machine was shut tight, he pressed the "Start" button. A clicking sound told Xerxes that the door had locked. Water then began to pour into the interior chamber. After another few seconds, the cylinder began to rotate, faster and faster.

With the first load all underway, Xerxes next turned his attention to the second load. This time, he would wash the pile of casual clothes. He loaded the pile into the machine, added the laundry detergent, and selected the "Quick Wash" setting, as he was instructed to do by his Professor. Once he had pressed the "Start" button on the second machine, he stood back to admire his handiwork. He had successfully (well, at the very least: completely) started TWO loads of laundry in an entirely Muggle fashion.

All there was to do now is.....wait.

Krittika was quite sure that she had already memorised each step when it came to handling the washing machines. Still, it didn’t hurt her to consult with the notes on the board because she was not keen in any way to spoil someone’s precious clothing. And whomever had any of hers had better return the favour, thank you very much!

The Ravenclaw meticulously breezed through the steps yet again, this time on another washer and soon too, that was whirring and doing its thing having been loaded with detergent, coloured clothing and water. One thing that was for certain? Kritti enjoyed setting the washers in motion far more than sorting clothing.

The washing machines created a catchy rhythm with their rumbling and tumbling. However, one of the machines got a bit too rumbly and tumbly. In fact, it was shaking quite a lot. Soap suds started to spill out from one of the handles. Suddenly, the machine stopped before lighting up and bouncing. With a click, the door unlocked, and a pair of shorts was shot out like a projectile towards the Hufflepuff.

Look out!

A defective machine? Perhaps. Now, explain why the next two machines started shaking and sent articles of clothing towards Ravenclaw. Is this what Muggles deal with? Amidst the chaos, there was no room for debate as garments tumbled out of the machines in a flurry, flying in every direction.

Hope you're good at dodging. These clothes were flying out hot and cold.

Xerxes was looking around the room when he was distracted by a boisterous rumbling sound. Turning around, he had barely a moment's notice before a pair of wet, soapy shorts were flying directly at his head. He didn't have any time to dodge, so the shorts hit him squarely in the face. He stumbled and fell over, completely disoriented.

After removing the sopping wet shorts from his face, the first year Hufflepuff tried to stand up, but now the washing machine next to the first one was throwing clothes pell-mell in every direction.

A sock hit Xerxes' torso; and this one was hot, leaving an angry red mark upon the skin even underneath his robes. With the chaos brewing all around him, Xerxes ran for his life. He flew through the door and turned right. Once out of striking range of the mad washing machines, he sank to his knees and tried to catch his breath.

The wait will be over soon, Krittika thought to herself as she absently drummed her well kept, pink coated fingertips on one of the machines. The combined rhythm of the machines was almost comforting, now that her ears had become familiar with the sounds. Hang on… there was a sudden change in that rhythm. Frowning, she cast a confused look in the change’s direction and was surprised to see it was shaking. Washers didn’t usually do that, did they? Before Kritti knew it, that particular washer was hurtling shorts through the air.

As if that wasn’t surprising enough, there were more sounds indicating that other machines were turning into Clickers about to eject clothing. Sure enough, the seventh year soon found her vision obscured as someone’s skirt hit her straight in the face. The act left her utterly startled and she thanked her lucky stars that the skirt had not been submerged in hot water. Wrenching the article of clothing, she only saw another piece being pelted at her, this time a blue blouse. It slapped her on a shoulder, sending water spattering in every direction and messing up her hair. Ugh! She had only gone through her hair washing regimen that morning and now her strands were all sudsy and dirtied!

*POP*

A third house-elf appeared—suddenly and breathlessly—right as chaos broke loose. Clothes were flying from machines like caffeinated Cornish pixies and yet Tippin, arms full of even more laundry, blinked slowly like he hadn’t noticed a single flying frock.

“Ohhh... was it tumble-time already? Tippin thought tumble-time was after scrubbingsies and the vinegar dabsies!” He took a step forward, promptly tripped over a loose washcloth, and sent the pile of wrinkled uniforms cascading forward in a dramatic crumpled heap. Socksies. More socksies. A jumper with a mysterious green stain. At least two scarves. The washing machine closest to him gave an ominous ker-CHUNK and launched a tie like a slingshot. “Oh—no thank-yousies! Tippin has plenty of neckwear, very kind!” he yelped, ducking with both ears flopping over his eyes.

Foamy suds began to creep across the floor and Tippin gasped as though personally offended by them. “Oh no no no! This wasn’t in Tippin’s notesies! Is this what Muggle laundry does? Is it... angry?” His eyes scanned the room wildly until they landed on Algamus and Quirly across the way. With a trembling arm, he held up a pair of trousers like a white flag. “Tippin brought the last load, promise-sies! Didn't forget this time! Well. Not mostly.”

Another sock flew past his head. Tippin hit the floor.

“Ohhhhh sweet starch and suds! Professorsies Leroy no tell Tippin Muggle machinsies be scary like Whomping Willowsies!”

It was time for the next part of the lesson, and Aurora was pretty sure that she followed everything easily enough. There was a lot of information, but it honestly didn’t seem like a difficult task to perform.

Following the instructions, she opened the tray and poured detergent to the fill line. Once it was closed again, she glanced around at all the laundry piles she sorted and decided to start with the colours. Rory added the pile of clothes to the washer then pressed the power button. She smiled as the machine lit up. The dial was set to ‘Fast Wash’ and she pressed the ‘Hold to Start’ button. The noise let her know she had done everything correctly.

That finished, Rory repeated the same process with the whites. It went as quickly and as smoothly as the first time, and she was enjoying watching the clothes spin around in the washer.

That was until everything went crazy and she was hit in the face with a shirt.

Remember when the rhythmic hum of the Muggle machines had almost been soothing? This sudsy situation had quickly escalated into a full-blown soap opera.

The washing machines were no longer simply rumbling—they were ROARNG. One thudded violently in place before spinning at such speed that its rubber feet began to skid across the floor with an earsplitting screeeee. The rhythmic churn devolved into a cacophony of banging, splashing, and high-pitched clinks as loose Galleons and buttons rattled around inside. The door swung open and closed, dispelling and flinging both liquid and round projectiles as it spun. A damp dress shir whipped through the air on trajectory to slap the professor [Jeorge Leroy] squarely across the face and was followed almost immediately by a jet of soapy water from the spinning machine. Things certainly were spinning out of control, weren't they?

A burst of steam hissed from the valves of another unit and momentarily fogged up half the room. Then came the pop of something snapping internally...which surely could not be good...was that the detergent drawer? It flew open and began firing drawerfuls of soapy liquid, splattering anything in its path with streaks of lavender and citrus-scented foam.

A third machine let out a low mechanical groan as its cycle stalled midspin. Then, without warning, it vomited an entire load of half-washed garments onto the floor in a steaming heap. As the shirts and socks landed, they seemed to come alive as though enchanted by a residual magic earned from their spin cycle. One scarf slithered across the tiles like a serpent towards the Hufflepuff boy [badger_boy_93] catching his breath and a pair of robes somersaulted in heavy moist heaps towards another Hufflepuff currently with a face full of shirt [WhittyBitty].

In another corner, a washer began to hop in place. With a heavy clang, it pitched forward and launched towels and trousers in a perfect spiral across the room like a Beater’s bat had swatted them―the towels in particular being the perfect house elf size nets [Algamus, Quirly, Tippin] but not exclusively in their direction. Three more soggy and dripped in suds towels were flung across the way towards the haircare conscious Ravenclaw [Fearlessleader19] and one seemed rather adamant in wrapping around her head like a soggy turban.

The foam continued to spread, bubbling up and cascading out from the mouths of the machines and creeping outward like some cheerful slippery tide. The floor seemed to be half-submerged in lukewarm sudsy water as the machines continued their rebellion unchecked. Several pairs of socks ricocheted off the ceiling, a couple of ties spun across the tiles like rogue boomerangs, and shirt sleeves lashed out like tentacles as they soared through the air.

This certainly was no ordinary laundry day.

Who else will fall victim to the wrath of rinse and repeat?!

Just when he thought he was safe, another machine belched out an ironically Slytherin scarf which (you guessed it) began to slither towards Xerxes. He screamed and ran for his life. Though he dodged left, right, and then left again; the scarf continued to pursue him. Vaguely, Xerxes noticed other students, teachers, and house elves being tormented, but he had no time to stop and help.

When he had finally gained a little breathing room in front of his pursuing scarf, Xerxes turned and drew out his wand. "Immobulus!" he yelled, pointing his wand directly at the scarf. It froze in mid-slither, still sinister in its poised stance. He took another breath of relief, although this time he didn't allow himself to be lulled into a false sense of security. He had already made that mistake once today.

As though his skeptical disbelief had prompted it, the scarf slowly began to un-freeze. The Freezing Charm was not powerful enough to hold this malevolent piece of outerwear forever. "Wait...." thought Xerxes as he dodged another strike by the fearsome scarf. "These clothes are all wet. I know what to do!!"

Xerxes raised his wand again and yelled, "Glacius!". The scarf, which was only inches from him, froze; literally this time. The scarf had been encased in a think shell of ice, rendering it trapped and immobile.

"Everyone.....listen up. You need to freeze the clothes. And I mean LITERALLY freeze them with 'Glacius', the Freezing Spell (as opposed to the Freezing Charm). It's the only way to stop them." Xerxes yelled out to the rest of the class.

Emma was definitely skeptical about the mud and grass stains being removed, but as a quidditch player she was willing to try just about anything. Although not that she'd ever really need it since she was fully capable of removing the stains with her wand however, the might come a day when she needed to zap the stains pronto and magic wasn't an option.

As Professor Leroy explained about front loaders and top loaders, Emma decided if she ever were to do laundry the muggle way she'd prefer the top loaders. The front loaders didn't seem very secure to her. Paying attention as he explained on the various settings, she set her potato down, deciding it was enough rubbing for that uniform. Just as she was about to load her washer though and added the laundry detergent and was to press start on hers, some of the neighboring washers started shaking a whole lot and suds seeped out.

See. She knew she was right to think top loaders were more secure.

Her eyes widened as Aurora and Xerxes and Krittika had soggy clothes headed in their direction and Xerxes was talking about using the freezing spell.... Ducking from any flying clothes, she bit her lip, "You're ... we're ... no magic in muggle studies." Or was this an exception? Her eyes looked over towards Professor Leroy for some sort of permission in his expression.

Jeorge watched as the machines began to rumble and tumble. How fascinating, he thought, a twinkle in his eye as he marveled at the speed of the machines. The results would be worth jotting down—well, once they were perfected. He swiftly dodged an undergarment that flew in his direction, but the same couldn’t be said for the students.

Dear... dear... we are in trouble, aren't we?

"Wands out, everyone,” Professor Leroy said in response to Miss Montmorency. Mr. Cadwallader had shifted from accepting defeat to instigating the others to fight back. "That's the spirit, 2 points to you, Mr. Cadwallader." Perhaps he should call for the healer? No, first, he needed to grab his notebook from the office before addressing the situation properly.

"Just a moment, everyone. I shall return. Do your best at taming the clothes and the machine until then." Mark his words, he would return... right? Ahem. Without another word, Leroy made his way out.

UGH!

Before Aurora was even able to remove the shirt from her face, she was pelted with two more items, and these were definitely heavier than the shirt had been. And hotter too. When she finally got her bearings, she got herself free, and let the clothes drop to the floor. Now she was soaking wet, and she needed to dodge as more clothes came her way.

Taking her wand out, she began doing her best to help deal with both the clothes and the washers. Hopefully the Professor would be back really soon.

Another loud pop and a new voice joining the mix told Krittika that another House Elf had joined the gathering, though it was sadly at an ill timed moment. Yes, this Ravenclaw was inclined to think that the washers were quite angry. And defective. She winced as the sounds increased, the louder decibels hurting her ears. With the level of chaos rising, she was quite ready to make her exit from the laundry room but then -

UGH!

Disgusting!

Two towels missed her, one slapped her in the face before falling to the floor, and one wrapped itself around her head. That was it! She could deal with any hitting aunty part of her but her hair? Kritti wrenched the one from her head even before she wiped her face free of suds. But it made no difference about her hair. The fact remained that she would be rewashing it later that evening. The offending towel was dropped unceremoniously. Krittika was annoyed now and wasted no time in unholstering her wand. Freezing couldn’t be the only way to stop the clothing from assaulting everyone but the young woman wasn’t going to do anything other than silently throw up a Shield Charm, exactly as Professor Khanna had taught everyone to, around herself and those nearby - and the elves if they fell within the proximity.

Oh look at that.

She had chipped a nail in all the shenanigans. Her precious rose pink-coloured nail. Whatever little good mood Kritti had left now evaporated.

Worst lesson ever in her seven years at Hogwarts.

CRACK.

One spinning machine landed heavily on the frozen scarf.. With a sickening crunch, it was crushed beneath the weight of it. The washer lurched again, then let out a groaning wheeeeeeeeeze before spitting up more suds and spinning in the opposite direction like a rogue ballerina.

Any clothing halted mid-air by Glacius collided with the stone floor and shattered instantly upon impact. Icy shards and woolen fragments scattered like glittering marbles, leaving behind nothing more than a frosty outline, a few stubborn threads, and the perfect tripping hazards. The spell had worked but hopefully none of those clothes were one of a kind items!

Less precise Glacius spells struck the floor and a sheet of ice bloomed outward across it, turning the area into a slipping hazard fit for a Winter Wizarding Olympics. Students who weren’t careful found themselves flailing as their feet slid out from under them.

A frozen object may be safe… but only until gravity gets involved. Frozen fabric makes for terrible cushioning.

Quirly had only just begun to feel proud again. Her sock basket was upright, her sorting had been tidy, and Algamus hadn’t broomed her even once!

And then the machines began to howl.

“Oh noesies... oh dearies... not the spin-sies!” she squeaked. A shirt slapped against her ear and a couple of ties flew towards her and tangled around her elfsie limbs. Panicked, the little elf gave a squeal, flipped her own laundry basket upside down, and ducked beneath it like a frightened tortoise. “Quirly is not here! No flying clothies, thank yousies!”

One of the washing machines bumped into another, then whirled and whacked her covered form with a loud CLUNK! Unfortunately out of rage of Miss Krittikasies magic barrier, the soap-slick floor turned the upturned basket with Quirly under it into a Summoner’s Court ball mid-match at the Hogsmeade Highland Games.

“EEEEEEEEEEEEEEK!” she wailed from under the basket as she zipped across the soapy floor, picking up speed as she transitioned onto frozen ground. Her tiny form bounced once, then twice, before crashing with a FWUMPH into a tall, freshly-laundered pile of Gryffindor robes yet to be delivered to the common room that were soft, mercifully unoccupied, and scented faintly of cinnamon and boyish bravado.

The basket wobbled and tipped sideways as she poked her head out, dizzy-eyed and wide-eared.

“...Quirly is... done now. Quirly volunteers tributesies no more.”

Oh so they WERE getting permission to use magic in class today. Emma blinked disappointedly when she barely got an acknowledgement for trying to uphold the 'no magic in muggle studies' rule. But wait, what?!? Did Professor Leroy really just Lockhart his way out of there and leave a bunch of teenagers to fend for themselves??

Emma winced at the crunching sound of the frozen scarf under the heavy washer. Today was NOT a fun day. Headmaster Winterbottom would most definitely be getting an earful about today's lesson. If not from her, then from her parents, who'd likely write to him as soon as she informed them of today's shenanigans.

Casting a few cushioning charms on the flying objects, she threw an impedimenta in there as well to help slow the items.

She then dove to hide under her desk, as she debated making an escape for the door. If Leroy was out, why should she have to do his dirty work? He'd be so overwhelmed with the chaos at his return - IF he returned - she doubted he'd notice one less student. Unless everyone else followed suit.

Algamus had just about enough of this nonsense. Yet another disaster for the house elves to clean—again—thanks to Professorsies Leroy and his blasted lessons! It had taken them all summer to scrub the castle spotless after that potion mishap, the one that turned students and elves alike all black-and-whities. And now this! No magic rule had vanished several Muggsies Studies professorsies ago, but who was always left cleaning up the messies? The house elvsies. Always the house elvsies!

“No goodsies will come from Muggles' thumpin’ machinesies, I says—said it from the start and I’ll says it again!” Algamus barked from the corner, ears twitching and broom clutched tightly as suds flew through the air like battlefield smoke.

His big eyes swept the chaos—spinning machines flinging socks like cursed snowballs, foam creeping up to his ankles, and one student tumbling across the floor with a towel on their head. He scowled so deeply his whole face looked like it might collapse in on itself. And then he saw it. Right there. On the table near the front as plain as pumpkin day: Professorsies Leroy’s notebook. Right there. The one he claimed he was fetchin'.

He stomped forward, eyes narrowing as one of the rogue machines gave a violent lurch. Suds burst forth like a geyser, and with a sharp crack of frustration, Algamus slammed his palm into the air. House-elf magic surged like a lightning snap towards the machine to fling it backwards towards the wall.

“You shall not make more worksies for elfsies!” he growled. He then turned on the classroom. “STUDENTSIES! LISTEN CLOSE, LISTEN SHARP! If you has a wand, use your Knocksies Backsies! Push these beastsies back! If not, OUT THE DOOR WITH YOUSIES!”

The old elf squared his shoulders, broom raised, and marched directly into the foamy fray, muttering under his breath about foolish Muggle contraptions and how this NEVER happened with house elfsies magicsies and good elbow grease.

A couple of jumpers slowed down from the jinx by Miss Montmorency enough for them to be caught or wrap themselves at their target in a slower pace. From the time that passed since Professor Leroy headed out, the chances of his return shrank by the hour.

BANG!

That was the sound of the washing machine slamming against the wall from the force by Algamus. The machine groaned and whirled before coming to a slow stop. With a click, the door of the machine swung open, spilling a heap of clothes onto the floor.

But that was just one machine. The others shook vigorously, ejecting even more clothes, and bouncing in the direction of the students. This was the moment of decision: fight or flight. Whichever choice you make, will you fight alongside the elvesies or choose safety?

Luckily for her, she unashamedly continued to take refuge behind her Shield Charm as things went from bad to worse. So much for the Freezing Charm providing much assistance. The young lady herself had no motivation to help any further. Not to mention she was so over this lesson. She just needed to pick her way out of this room carefully because Kritti was not keen on slipping on the iced floor. Or she could always transfigure her shoes into a pair of skates to glide on out of here.

Krittika had actually made up her mind with the latter choice just when Alagmus’ sharp voice rang through the air. Did she really want to leave the elves to clean this mess up alone? Because it was clear that Leroy would not return, at least until the calamity was over. What a coward. Her compassion for the elves eventually won and the Shield Charm that had been thrown up was put to an end.

There was an onslaught of more suds and clothes, some of both hitting her as she directed her wand towards the chaos. “Flipendo!’’ The Ravenclaw non-verbally cast the spell that had been taught to her in her fourth year, one that she had easily mastered. Orange light shot from her wand towards a machine. Then at another and another as the steps were repeated.

All the while, clothing kept slapping her across the body.

Tippin gave a little squeak of worry with his big floppy ears covering his eyes while he continued to look as small as possible on the floor, only to hear Algamus’s grumbling about Professorsies Leroy.

“Oh noesies… not the black-and-whities again!” Tippin flailed his arms at the memory, nearly slipping on a slick of soap as he hurried toward the nearest unruly washer. “Tippin is helpings! Tippin is knockings back the machine-box-beasties!”

And with a determined stomp of his foot and a wild swing of his spindly arms, Tippin unleashed a burst of house elf magic. Tippin's was not elegant like Algamus’, but hopefully enough to make the closest washing machine let out a sputter and ka-THUMP back.

“Studentsies! Listen to Mister Algamus!” he cried, pointing his finger dramatically. “Use your wandsies! Knockbacksies or run-for-your-livesies!”

He shuffled quickly to Quirly’s side, planting himself between her and the nearest rogue machine or projectile laundry while her eyes were still spinning like tops. At the same time, Tippin flailed his arms in dramatic sweeps, ushering fleeing students toward the exit with all the urgency of a panicked Hogwarts Express conductor trying to herd a swarm of Cornish Pixies off Platform Nine and Three-Quarters before departure.

It was PANDEMONIUM!! The possessed washing machines had wrecked the room more effectively than a stampede of raging rhinos. Xerxes looked around at the chaos and felt overwhelmed. There were too many loud noises and clothing flying everywhere to able to concentrate on one thing at a time. He spun around wildly and pointed his wand at the at nearest machine.

"Arresto Momento!" he yelled with a sharp jab of his wand. The machine slowed down its rampage of terror and came to a halt. He tried this on another machine, and then another. It was all he could do while still dodging shirts and other vestiments flying at him from every direction. 'Where was the teacher?', he thought to himself.

In a magical display of teamwork, the house-elves and the remaining students banded together to tackle the chaotic menace of the rogue washing machines, one by one. Some were smashed into the wall with a resounding crash, while others sent students bolting from the classroom in a frantic escape. A few machines, though rare, managed to complete their spin cycles without a problem.

As the clock ticked down, the threat of tardiness for the next lessons loomed ominously over the classroom. The elves ushered the remaining students out before they worked tirelessly to manage the pandemonium caused by a certain professor.

Where was Professor Leroy? His absence only deepened the mystery of the day. With class officially dismissed, students had plenty of reasons to share the unusual "lesson."