Demand my robes back

I whipped my wand out of my pocket, and pointed it at Cormac.

"Take off my robes!" I said angrily. When he hesitated, I added, "Now!"

For the first time since he landed in front of me, I saw the confident smirk that Cormac was wearing falter. He realised, perhaps a bit too late, that he may have gone too far. I flicked my wand at him, and Cormac jumped, expecting to be cursed. His arrogant cheekiness was all gone in the face of my anger. Cormac scowled at me, hoping I'd relent, but I held my wand steady. After a few seconds, Cormac sighed, giving in.

"Can we at least go somewhere more private?" he asked.

I nodded, and Cormac walked to the side of the pitch. Leaving my equipment on the ground in the middle of the Quidditch pitch, I followed him under the huge stand where Gryffindor spectators normally sat. Beneath the thick canvas coverings, the wooden internal structure of the stand was clearly visible. I looked up, and saw benches far above me. The canvas cover back in place leaving the interior of the stand bathed in a red and gold glow.

Cormac stood awkwardly for a moment, but when I pointed my wand at him again, he began to unbuckle the shin and arm guards he was wearing. He threw these down on the ground at my feet. I thought this was quite disrespectful considering Cormac had borrowed these things without my consent. He pulled off my gloves, and they joined the pile. In fact, I marvelled that he had managed to fit the gloves on at all. Finally, Cormac slipped off the red and gold cloak, and dropped it to the ground.

I stared at him in dismay. To my horror, Cormac was wearing the red t-shirt and shorts that I usually wore during practice and in games. Cormac saw my look, and crossed his arms over his chest. I grimaced, and flicked my wand again. Cormac didn't jump this time, but got the message. Reluctantly, and with a lot of effort, he pulled off the t-shirt and shorts. As he dropped them, I saw large sweat stains. I wrinkled my nose. I would need to wash them thoroughly before I wore them again.

I looked back up to Cormac. He was standing, dressed only in his shoes, and a jockstrap. He looked so forlorn, that I was tempted to laugh, but I knew that I had to remain serious to teach Cormac a lesson.

"If I wanted to, I could get you put in detention for the rest of the year", I began. "As it is, I should take you off being reserve for the Quidditch team."

Cormac's face paled. He obviously hadn't imagined what the consequences would be when he thought up this venture.

"Do you have anything to say for yourself?" I asked him, giving him a chance to explain himself.