Combeferre, coming down in the evening for some coffee, notices the general handcuff situation with a shrug. Another magical mishap, apparently, and one he is not particularly equipped to help resolve.

Bar pointedly refuses to give him coffee. Instead she gives him a steaming mug of chamomile tea and a tablet of melatonin.

"Joly has gotten to you," Combeferre accuses. "But I take your point. It's late."

He turns to go back to his room for rest, and it's only then that he sees his friends, clustered around...Enjolras, and...

Oh. Oh, damn.