Theodore, on the other hand, was not taking it good-naturedly, and though he offered Tracey a weak smile, there was no doubt in his mind that this was not his body, even if all the combined bits technically belonged to him. Assuming they did. For all Theodore knew, they'd been collectively polyjuiced, in which case this could be anyone's body. A beggar or a criminal or, worse, a Welsh.
"I should owl my employer," he said a bit blankly, holding Tracey's bra aloft like he didn't want to acknowledge he was holding it. "And. Probably try and get dressed." He frowned.