Harry Potter and the Serpent's Loo
DISCLAIMER: I do not own Harry Potter or the universe he is set in. I use these characters for fun, not profit. Any lawsuits over this would be utterly pointless because I have no money. Thank you and have a nice day.
Thunk
Harry Potter, the boy who lived and then fifteen years later defeated the evil Lord Voldemort for good, softly, but with feeling, slammed his head against the stone wall of the dimly lit corridor. He was standing with his back up against the cool stone, wishing that he could just be absorbed directly into the bricks. How could he have been so stupid? He'd left his room thirty minutes ago, a tad past 1:00, to sneak down to the kitchens for a bit of a bite. Today, or yesterday rather, had been the first quidditch match of the year. On top of that, it was against Ravenclaw, who'd gone undefeated last year. Then there was the fact that it was the first game sporting Harry as captain, as well as sixth year, Ginny Weasley, and a third year named Ian Front as chasers. Harry had kept to Wood's rigorous training schedule, which was adopted by Angelina when she took over as captain during Harry's fifth year, but he was still very nervous and had not eaten much the whole day. A bludger to the head, not .5 seconds after he'd snatched the snitch had kept him in the infirmary during the victory bash, so when he'd finally made it back to his room to literally crash on his four poster, he was rather niffed to find that his stomach was protesting its lack of attention.
Thunk
Harry supposed that the bludger must've hit him harder than he'd thought. Otherwise he had no possible excuse as to why he'd grabbed his cloak, but left his wand on the bedside table when he decided to pay a visit to the kitchens. Any other time, it would have been a simple operation, but he'd tripped over a well-placed tea kettle in the corridor outside the Head Girl's dormitory. Before he knew it, he was on the ground, his cloak tangled up around his head. He didn't have time to think about the probability of a teapot being in the middle of the hall floor before the culprit, Peeves, flew in and yanked the cloak roughly from about Harry's head.
"Oooooohhh. Potty's lost 'is Head! But, oh! I've found it. What a pretty prize I've found. Won't Professy wessor Sevykins be pleased!?"
"Peeves, wait!" Harry had cried in a whispered shout, but it was too late. Peeves was already doing victory laps up and down the corridor singing "Potter the Rotter, version 27.5". When he'd stopped at the far end with a "Well, helllooo, Mrs. Norris!" Harry jumped up and ran. He'd banged on Hermione's door, but she had not answered and he didn't have time to wait around. He could hear Snape and Filtch talking to the poltergeist.
"What is that you've got there?" Snape drawled.
"Wouldn't the professy wessor like to know? Yes, yes, I bet he woulds!" cried Peeves maniacally.
"Oh, Merlin's balls in a blender. You got me out of bed for this, Argus? I'm not going to go chasing after that stupid spectre. You can if you wish, I'm checking the corridor and returning to bed!"
"Bloody Hell!" Harry thought. He sprinted down the corridor to a niche behind a sleeping suit of armour and pressed himself up against the wall. And there he was, holding his breath and silently banging his head against the wall cursing his stupidity. He could feel Snape looming closer. Did the great bat actually know he was there? Snape was almost upon him when Filtch's voice boomed down the hall.
"Let go of my cat, you billowy bastard! Give'r back! Professor Snape!!!"
"Oh, bloody hell!" Harry heard Snape mutter, "I suppose I'll have to go help him get that damn animal back if I ever want to get back to bed in peace."
Harry let his breath out and brought his head back against the wall for the third time. Thu—
The sound ended abruptly and Harry felt himself falling backwards. He landed on the floor with a thump. His eyes flew open, but he actually had to reach up and touch them to make sure because wherever he'd fallen into was as dark as a death eater's cloak. He sat up and felt directly in front of him. It was the wall. Harry figured that he must have found a secret passageway. He did not remember it on the Marauder's Map, which meant that neither they, nor the twins must have known about it.
"Lumos!" Harry said, hoping there was a candle or a lamp around which would light up. Nothing happened. He cursed his stupidity at leaving his wand behind once more. He was not very good with wandless magic yet, unlike Draco and Hermione, who could accio whatever they wanted from across the room without so much as a swish and a flick.
He stood up and made his way down the passageway. With any luck, this was a new way to the kitchen, Harry thought, as his stomach grumbled loudly. After what felt like ten minutes, he came to a stop. It was another wall. Feeling around for loose bricks, levers, or buttons, Harry was disappointed to find nothing.
"Merlin's balls in a blender," Harry sighed, borrowing the phrase he'd heard earlier, which summed up pretty well how he felt.
He jumped back as the wall slid open.
~.~.~.~.~
Harry stepped through the opening and found himself in a grand bathroom. He turned out the sound of the wall closing up behind him. He looked around with interest, thinking that perhaps he'd wandered into another prefects' lav. The tub was not as large as the Gryffindor prefects' bath, but it looked very comfortable. The marble was a dark green colour and the faucets were gleaming silver.
"Must be the Slytherin prefects' bathroom." Harry whispered to no one in particular. There were no portraits, he noticed. There was a free standing shower to the far side of the room, which made Harry a bit envious. There was a toilet in the other corner, which was odd. The Gryffindor prefects did have separate loos from the rest of the house, but he didn't think they were in the bath. This looked more like someone's personal bathroom.
Harry ran his had along the maddeningly soft plush towels, which were black and green. They had a very intricately monogrammed "S" on them. It was then he noticed the black boots on the floor and the black robes draped over a hamper. Another quick glance at the towels confirmed his fear. The monogram was not simply an "S". There were two, intertwined.
"Holy Crap! I'm in Snape's bathroom!" Harry gasped. The realization was followed quickly with the thought, "Snape has a bathroom…and he actually uses it?"
It took a few moments before Harry realized the gravity of the situation. He could picture Snape's great pleasure at, after chasing Peeves around the castle, walking into his loo to take a piss and coming face to face with the boy who lived himself. Harry spun around to the wall where the passage had been and whispered the password. Nothing. He tried three more times, for good measure, but the wall did not budge. Harry groaned as he ran his fingers through his unruly hair. He removed his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose.
"Great. Just great." Harry replaced his glasses and began looking for a place to hide. He thought briefly about sneaking past a sleeping Snape, but the potion master seemed the type to be a light sleeper. His best bet was to hide out until morning and sneak out while the professor was at breakfast—if he chose to take breakfast in the Great Hall this morning. Harry stomach growled angrily at him at the thought of food. The laundry bin was rather large, but he doubted whether he could fold his six-foot frame into it. He might have been a scrawny kid, but quidditch does fill one out a bit. Still, it didn't hurt to try. He pushed Snape's robe onto the floor and opened the lid. The hamper was empty, save for a towel. Thinking that he should probably use the towel as cover if he did fit into the bin, Harry grabbed it and climbed in. For the first time in his life, Harry missed the scrawny days of his youth. As he climbed out of the bin, Harry cut himself on a stray piece of wicker. Thankful that the towel was black, he wiped at his cut, trying not to imagine where the towel had been. It was slightly damp and had a pleasant citrus smell, which was oddly familiar to Harry, but he could not place it. He threw the towel back into the hamper and grabbed Snape's robe to place it back on the bin.
As Harry stepped back to survey his scene recreation, he tripped over the professor's boots. He landed hard on his bum, but luckily, the floor had thick black carpeting. His elbow hit a large vase containing palm fronds, which he jumped to catch before realising that it probably wouldn't have broken if it fell anyway. Harry sniggered inwardly at the fact that Snape's bathroom had such things as vases and palm fronds in it. He set the vase to rights. But as he did, he noticed something shiny and green sticking out amidst the fronds. He reached in a pulled out an emerald coloured satin bra.
"Well, what is this?" he grinned. Snape always wore those massive black robes. Who knew he liked to wear ladies undergarments underneath—and Slytherin green, as well. How charming. Wait until Draco found out. Harry laughed at the image, but he supposed there could be another explanation. Snape could be getting laid. He had been in considerably higher spirits this year. Harry and Ron had put it down to the final fall of Voldemort the year before, but anything was possible. Harry felt a sudden surge of envy. First
Ron had started shagging Hannah Abbott, then Seamus and Parvati, and now even Snape was getting some. Damn Ginny and her "no sex before marriage" policy.
"Uh-uh. No way. I love you, but we're just going to have to wait. I'm not getting pregnant while I'm in school."
"I'll use protection."
"With my family history? No way. Mum got knocked up with the twins while she was on the contraceptivus potion!"
Oh, well. Harry wasn't about to make an issue out of it, but the thought of him being the oldest virgin in the school began to mock him. Now, there's some info that Peeves would love to get his noncorporeal hands on.
Harry wondered who it was that Snape was bonking. All the seventh year Slytherin girls (all three of them, that is) had boyfriends, though he supposed that they wouldn't be above sleeping with a teacher for a grade adjustment. Actually, after the final battle, he'd changed his views on the potion master, somewhat. He knew that Snape was an honourable man. He probably wouldn't touch a student. Who then? McGonagall and Pomfrey were both too old, he'd heard them both refer to the potion master as "boy" before. Sprout was with Flitwick. Pince was married to some other librarian named Lucien. Vector and Sinestra were…well, together. That left Hooch, whom he strongly suspected of being a beater for the other team as well, and Trelawny. Ugh. Better to think that Snape wore ladies knickers and leave it at that.
Harry threw the offending article of clothing back in the vase and jumped up. Aside from the shower, there was no place to hide. Harry stood in the centre of the room trying to decide on the shower (face it, how often did the man shower, really?) or just going out the door and facing the music, when to his horror, the door swung open and Hermione Granger walked in.
"Hermione!" Harry squeaked. Hermione startled and slammed the door.
"Harry! What are you doing here!?"
"I could ask you the same thing, Hermione!" Hermione's cheeks reddened a bit, but she regained her composure.
"I was going to use the loo."
"Snape's loo?!"
"Yes, Harry. I'm working on my potions project and his is the closest. Honestly, I don't know why I'm explaining myself to you. What is your excuse?" Harry told her his story. Hermione rolled her eyes and sighed.
"Really, Harry. Aren't you a little too old to act that way. I'll see if I can't get your cloak back to you. Now, I really must use the loo, so you need to get out." Hermione went to the wall and whispered something. The wall quickly dissolved leaving the dark passage wide open. She cast lumos on a cotton swab and sent Harry on his way.
"When you get to the wall, the password is 'liquorice whips and chains'. Go on, now before I take points." Hermione pushed him through the wall.
"Herm, why are you still down here? And how do you know the passwords to this passage?"
"I've told you Harry. I'm working on my potions project. I've only just finished an important stirring phase. Now go to bed. Go!" She gave him a final push as the doorway closed up. Harry made his way back to his dormitory with no altercations, but had difficulty going to sleep. Hermione hadn't answered his last question and the rest, well…
Hermione had never been a very good liar.
Closing his eyes, Harry Potter nodded off, trying not to think about Hermione Granger in Snape's bathroom, or the fact that this probably meant that he really was the last virgin left in his year…
The end
