Who: Pete and William Where: The pool ballroom When: Friday night What: Not running. Please, Merlin.
William showed up to the pool room with a stack of books so tall it threatened more than once to topple when rounding corners. Most if not all of them would prove useless, he was almost certain, but it was better than nothing. The room was empty when he arrived, but he wasn't terribly worried about it. He had faith that his current method of Pete-wrangling would be a success.
The plan, such as it was, involved reading by the pool while Pete swam enough laps to exhaust him, so that he would fall right asleep and not go chasing after Gabe while he was trying to work. It wasn't the most evolved plan ever invented, but William thought it ought to suffice. He could make listening noises when appropriate, send any useful information on potions along to Gabe, and tuck Pete into bed at a relatively early hour without his chaperon duties extending to physical restraint.
He hoped they wouldn't extend to physical restraint. If necessary, though, he was fully prepared to confiscate Pete's wand and tackle him.