InsaneJournal

It had been a long run inside from the edge of the lake where Moody and Rufus had been throwing stones to try and provoke the giant squid into showing itself, but Moody was extremely relieved to reach a loo where he could relieve himself without inciting the rage of a prefect or the squid. Throwing open the door, he walked into one of the stalls (he liked his privacy!) without bothering to lock it behind him, dropped his trousers, took a wide stance, tapped his toe and did his business with a loud sigh of relief.

Like any good student, Ignatius had emerged from hours spent in the library, buried beneath books and trying to be a step ahead in his homework. He took a break before dinner to take care of some things, and was ready to get back to work when he realized, quite horrifically, that there wasn't any tissue left in his stall. He looked around it for a moment before he heard the sigh of the other, but found nothing. He sat there with his trousers around his ankles, contemplating what he should do before daring to say anything.

Moody waited until he was sure his bladder was completely drained until he straighted up, tilted his head back and let out a moan at the feeling of his bladder no longer being fit to burst. Shaking once -- twice -- he put it away and zipped up, wiping his hands on the hips of his jeans and turning around to leave the stall. But before he got out the door, he stopped. Some one else was with him. He could sense it. He could hear breathing.

"Hello?" he asked, furrowing his brows and looking about the stall as if the breathing was coming from there.

He couldn't recognize the voice, but he swallowed his pride regardless. "Yes," Ignatius replied politely, knowing that courteousness was always fruitful in the end. "I don't mean to bother you; however, I must ask a favor--could you pass a bit of tissue underneath the stall? There doesn't seem to be any in here."

Moody paused for a minute after he heard the second person speak. He was somewhere between amused and creeped out that some one had been there the whole time listening to him while he'd been doing his thing. "Um, no," he said, breaking the silence. "I don't think so."

"Excuse me?" was all Ignatius could say in response. He hoped the person had been joking--really, how hard was it to share some toilet paper? Sharing was what a kind, well-mannered person would have done. He didn't understand the big deal, and began to regret asking in the first place.

"You're excused," Moody said, grinning a little at how witty he thought he was being. Instead of feeling uncomfortable, as he had at first, he was starting to see the humour in the situation. Trying to suppress a giggle, he put his hand over his mouth and asked, "What's your name, anyway?"

"What does that matter? Are you going to give me the tissue or not? It is a simple, painless task," Ignatius quickly grew irritated and the other could probably hear it in his voice.

Moody rolled his eyes and exited the stall. He wasn't about to hand some loser any tissue underneath the stall -- but there was something else that he could do beneath the stall. Without thinking about how dirty the floor might have been or how many germs he was getting on his hands, he crouched down, holding himself up with his palms and elbows on the tile of the bathroom floor and peeked under the stall to see who its occupant was. The person inside was not some one he immediately recognised, but he was sure he could figure out who it was after he'd gotten a good look at his face.

"Sorry," he said, smirking up at him. "There's barely any left in that stall, either." Then he removed his head from beneath the stall door, lest he get kicked or something, and stood up, once again wiping his hands on the hips of his trousers.

The last thing Ignatius expected was for the other to stick his head underneath the door. He would have kicked if he had noticed him sooner, but he only saw him as he retreated, He sat there in disbelief, and now he was the one feeling uncomfortable.

"What is your problem?"

"I haven't got a square to spare," Moody said, now obviously holding back his urge to laugh. He couldn't believe this person he didn't even know was asking him for toilet paper. Sure, it would have been the polite thing for him to just give it to him, but Moody had never been polite and he wasn't about to start now just because some ponce had asked him for some tissue. "You're on your own, mate."

And with that, Moody finally lost control of his laughter and took a couple quick hop-steps to the door, shoving it open and running out into the hallway, still laughing. He needed to find Rufus immediately and tell him all about what had just happened.

Ignatius had to sit and think about what just happened. He obviously wouldn't forget the voice of whoever denied him tissue, although he hoped he would forget this entire incident. Instead of allowing his irritation to turn into anger, he sat there and fumed quietly, wondering if he should conjure tissue from his wand. What his mother told him about courteousness wasn't as true as he anticipated.