A/N: For the moment this is a one-shot, but perhaps it may be part of a later story. It depends partly on the feedback I get, partly upon my whims, and partly on how much it snows this winter….
Disclaimer: I own nothing which does not belong to me. Among the myriad of things in the universe this applies to are of course Harry Potter, J.K. Rowling, and anything even remotely resembling a Comanche helicopter. (sigh)
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Cookies in the Shower
Draco Malfoy stood in the shower of the Head's dormitory bathroom, trying to use the hot water to relax his muscles. It had bad been a long day…
Scratch that, it had been a long year. Following Dumbledoor's death summer before last the wizarding world had been launched into the fiercest war in centuries. Hogwarts had closed, Potter and his friends had disappeared for months as they hunted down the horcruxes, and he'd spent four months withering away from pain and guilt in the company of death eaters. That is, till his mother sacrificed her life to get him into the hands of the Order.
At first they too held him as if he was a captive, but then Potter had returned and announced what had really happened that horrible night. They'd given him a second chance, and he'd grabbed it.
With his mother gone and his father in Azkaban he knew the only way he'd survive the coming battles would be to join the Order and work his bloody arse off preparing. He couldn't run; he would not leave his father all alone and they'd only find him anyways. He refused to fight along side the death eaters; the scum had killed his mother. That left standing behind Potter and his little sidekicks.
It was degrading, terrifying, but necessary to survive. And survive he did.
Almost six weeks ago Potter, on his birthday, had finished Voldemort; Weasel and Granger at his side the entire time.
Now it was September first; Hogwarts had reopened (albeit with a first year class twice its normal size to make up for the year lost), Hogsmeade and Diagon Alley were being rebuilt, the dead had been buried, aurors sent after the lingering death eaters who'd fled, and the world was wrapped up in a an almost comical combination of uninhibited celebration and mourning. Celebrating that they'd survived and could now live without the terror of Voldemort hanging over them, and mourning for those who hadn't.
Draco sighed as he shampooed his hair for the third time. Normally he wasn't so absent minded about such things, but being in a place where he felt secure enough to let his mind wander wasn't something he'd had the privilege of doing for a while, and so now he felt justified in taking advantage.
It had been odd to ride the train back to school, sit through yet another sorting, and partake of the feast. These were all things he associated with his life before the war; and yet here he was, experiencing these familiar things in a new context.
People he'd counted as his friends in the past were missing. Those who'd been his enemies, but in the past year had proven to be his lifeline, were somehow more apparent to him.
Potter stuck out regardless, his face and scar more pronounced now than ever before. Weasel, heaven help the boy, had seemed to be eating with a previously unseen relish. He wasn't the only one, though.
One of the often-witnessed side effects of the war was that survivors tended to be taking a lot more enjoyment in the simple every day aspects of life. Exhibit A was himself and this shower that he'd been in now for almost forty-five minutes, with no intention of leaving anytime soon. Exhibit B was the gluttony which took place whenever food was placed in front of Weasel.
Exhibit C of this phenomenon was Granger. She'd become positively, if incomprehensibly, giddy.
True, she mourned the loss of her parents, who'd been killed in an attempt to hurt her and thereby hurt Potter; but she was also…gleeful. The fact that Harry could now live out his life in peace (HA! As if, he attracted trouble like the Weasley twins created it in Draco's opinion), brought a grin to her face. The fact that he'd gotten back together with the tiny Weaselette had sent her over the moon, as had Ron's relationship with that odd Lovegood girl. She seemed to be constantly charged by the happiness of those around her.
It was pretty damn annoying, actually.
Thank Merlin they were in school again. She, being the other head student, would shortly become engrossed in such things as classes, NEWTs, and rule enforcement. She'd go back to her books, and the Head's dormitory would be a place of peace and quiet, which he was quite looking forward to.
In fact, he'd bet anything that she was up in her room at this very moment, making sure she had every single page of Impossibly Advanced Transfiguration for the Academically Obsessed memorized.
He could picture her now; sitting at her desk, head bent over the 794 page volume, her lower lip caught in her teeth the way it always was when she concentrated…
BAM!
The sound of the bathroom door slamming shut jolted him from his reverie. He poked his head from behind the shower curtain, ready to tell off whatever careless house elf had just come in to clean.
The vision of a red-faced Hermione running towards him while jamming something into her mouth with one hand, and simultaneously brandishing her wand and hiding some kind of bag down the front of her jumper with the other, was the last thing he expected to see.
"Granger what are you…what the HELL are you doing?" he shouted as she jumped into the shower with him, still fully clothed.
"Sssshhh! Hwide me pleesh!" she said, or rather attempted to say with her mouth full.
"What the devil?! Granger I'm naked in case you haven't noticed!" He reached for a towel and made to leave the shower, only to have Hermione grab his hand and haul him back into the spray.
"No no no!" she hissed after swallowing half of her mouthful. "Ack lih I'm no 'ere!" she begged, the water soaking her hair and top.
"But you ARE in here and I'm STARKERS!" he hollered, not completely sure if this really was happening. He had taken some rather nasty blows to head during the war after all…
Hermione rolled her eyes, took out her wand and waved it a bit. He felt something and when he looked down she'd managed to conjure a pair of green and grey swim trunks. He was about to demand she explain herself when he heard more shouting.
"OY! 'Mione! Don't think you can get away from me!" an angry voice from their common room bellowed. "I know it was you!"
Draco looked at her panic stricken face. "Please!" she mouthed, a few crumbs falling out.
"Hey, I know you're in there!" a voice he now recognized as Ron's yelled.
BAM! The bathroom door slammed again. He had a quick decision to make; but in the end he decided that annoying the Weasel ultimately trumped annoying Granger. That and he'd no doubt have something he could hold over her if he cooperated.
"You can't hide from me! I'm coming in there whether you're ready or….AAAAAGH!"
"You scream like a girl, Weaselbee," Draco intoned, his head emerging once more from behind the shower curtain. He tried to ignore the fact that Granger was getting an unimpeded view of his nearly bare backside.
"Malfoy it's, it's…it's you!" Ron gasped.
"Astute observation, Weasely," he drawled. "Now, handsome though I know myself to be, that doesn't necessarily give you the right to demand to join me in the bath now does it? Sorry to be breaking your heart but my door doesn't swing that way, and even if it did, I certainly wouldn't fancy you. You're much too fair with far too many freckles, I'm afraid I prefer a darker complexion."
Ron was staring open mouthed in horror. "What?...No!...I…What are you doing in here?"
"Well I was enjoying a shower in my private bathroom, although currently I'm talking to a confused and possibly mentally ill person." 'While another is hiding behind me,' he thought ruefully, 'most likely engaged in the act of ogling my bits.'
"I saw Hermione come in here!" Ron asserted.
"Feel free to check the cabinets, but I think we can both safely say that Granger would never hide in the shower whilst I was occupying it. Although," he added with an increased amount of sarcasm, "I would have laid money down that you wouldn't disturb my evening ablutions either, and yet here you are."
Ron's ears went red. He turned abruptly and stormed out, slamming the door and muttering "traitorous little cat must've double backed on me…I'll get her for this!"
Once he heard the outer portrait door slam he turned to Hermione. She was busy chewing another mouthful of whatever she was hiding down her jumper.
"Care to explain Granger?" he asked arching his brow and folding his arms against his chest.
Hermione swallowed and grinned broadly. She didn't seem to mind in the least that she looked liked a half drowned animal with her hair plastered to her face and her clothes sopping wet. "I nicked his cookies and had to make a break for it when he caught me."
"You stole food from a Weasley?" he asked disbelievingly. "Are you mad?"
"They're my favorite!" she protested. "Oatmeal raisin with candied walnuts. I saw Molly slip them into his trunk when we said good bye back at platform 9 ¾."
"Granger I'm positively shocked! I've a mind to take house points from you," he smirked.
"For stealing Ron's cookies? Honestly! If anything I thought you'd be happy I was annoying him," she replied with an I'm-so-cute-you-know-you're-going-to-let-me-off expression.
'When in Flamel's long lifetime did she ever develop a look like that?' Draco wondered incredulously.
"No, not for stealing, although the head girl committing larceny is definitely something I'm tempted to report," he said adopting what he thought was a stern voice. "No, I was thinking I'd deduct points for barging into my shower. Surely I'm within my rights to do so; it is a highly indecent thing after all."
"Pshaw," Hermione chuckled as she waved this off. "It's not like you've got anything I haven't seen before."
He felt his draw drop.
Hermione laughed outright. She reached down her front and pulled out another cookie, stuffing it in his gaping mouth.
"Now, since you were kind enough to aid and abet my crime I'll share the spoils," she patted his cheek in a friendly way. "However, I suppose you do have a point about this situation being somewhat indiscreet. That being said, I'll be leaving you now. After all, I don't know why I've stayed here this long. I really should stop letting you talk me into these kinds of things Malfoy. I mean, what would people say?"
She smirked at the look of horrified incredulity on his face, stepped out of the shower, cast a quick drying charm on herself, and headed for the door. "Be a dear and tell me when you're through will you? I still need a proper shower myself tonight," she called as she walked through the door, shutting it behind her.
Deciding he'd best eat the cookie before he choked on it Draco munched away, still practically naked and under the running water.
"So much for my peaceful year," he thought to himself.