Caradoc was tired at the end of the day, but it was a good sort of tired - it meant he could come back to his room after he'd cleaned up and drop himself into bed and sleep through the night before starting all of this over again. He was rubbing the towel over his head, water dripping down the back of his neck as he came back to his room, a pair of jeans slung low on his hips wand in his pocket.
The sound of a voice in his room had all his training jumping to the forefront of his mind and he didn't think twice about grasping his wand, and disarming whoever it was that had come into his room, and petrifying the intruder mere moments after that. He didn't care who it was - he hadn't stopped to listen or even identify whoever it was, reacting while whoever it was continued to speak.
Of course it would be too much to hope that things just went smoothly after that - his spells bounced back without hitting their mark and instead causing a bit of damage to some of his furniture (perfect really), and he swore ducking out of the way and raising his own shields. At the particular moment he didn't care who it was that was in his rooms - just that it was someone who wasn't supposed to be there, and wasn't going down the way he wanted.
He ducked out of the room, back pressed against the wall just outside the door, it would figure the one evening he wanted to just come back and go to bed his bed would be occupied. "Who the fuck are you?" He shouted into the room, waiting for some kind of retaliation.