Erin went past the both of them, straight for a corner with a school bag stowed away. It was, as he tapped it with his wand, muttered something, and then hauled the thing open, clearly his bag left in the dry while he practiced. Water dripped from his hair down his face and the back of his neck, and he left muddy puddles where he walked, but those were secondary concerns. Erin drew out his broomstick cleaning kit and went and took a seat far away from the scowling Dax.

It wasn't until he'd taken out a cloth and some wax and bent over his water-streaked broom that he realized maybe it would be a better idea if he was dry as well, so as not to drip down on the thing and ruin all his hard work. So he laid his stuff aside and began applying his own dying and warming spells, running his wand along his sides and down the legs of his trousers. His hair still dripped water into his face, but that would dry by itself; in the meantime Erin concentrated on his clothing and not looking at Dax, whose expression was just begging to be smirked at. He did not take his clothing off to dry it - like hell was he doing that when Dion was unpeeling his shirt from an abdomen of steel. Erin was fit, yeah, but that was just unfair.

The mud coating his trainers and clinging to his cuffs steamed. For lack of anything better to do, Erin began to scourgify that off too. Sitting next to his broom, bent over to reach the bottoms of his filthy trousers, he could listen to the twins' conversation without either seeing the expression on his face.

He had a load of smart-arse comments ready to volley, but what was fun with Dax seemed incautious with Dion. Besides, for whatever strange reason Dion seemed to tolerate him, and that was an unexpected and potentially flimsy opinion Erin did not quite yet want to ruin.

"Yes, it matters," Dax was grumbling, as Erin silently dried himself off. "Of course it matters. Why wouldn't it?"

Dion sighed, loudly - rather too loudly for Dax's liking, as Dax crossed his arms and went into a full of sulk.

"Then forget it," Dion said, as if it was that simple. "He came up with shit that's not true, so ignore it." He smiled slightly, eyeing Dax thoughtfully, and added, "Or was it that what he said is true...?"

Dax's stony silence answered that just fine. Dion shook his head.

"Found out about your broom thing, did he?" Dion asked, with a hint of nastiness to his tone. Dax jolted, and spun on the bench to glare at Dion, seemingly forgetting Erin's presence. "No, he didn't. But thanks for announcing it."

While the brothers bickered, Erin finished drying his clothing and went back to his broom. He laid it across his lap and bent his head to the task of waxing. But he still listened, with half an ear; in the way of family taunts everywhere, some of their back-and-forth was familiar to him. The nastiness in Dion's voice, particularly, and how it jolted Dax from silent sulk into speech.

"No, he didn't. But thanks for announcing it."

Well, that was an entrance line if Erin had ever heard it.

" 'He' definitely did," Erin added lazily to the conversation, turning his head to look sideways at the other two and grin. "Fayette, don't ever take up poker. You're a horrible bluffer."