A/N: Alright, finally getting this posted. The first three chapters will just be me fleshing out the original story I had posted. After that, everything will be new. Thanks for being so patient guys.
This was originally written for QLFC season 6, so thank you to my whole team and a special thanks to Em, Jenny, and Emiliya for making this story better.
Chapter 1
The Prefects' Bathroom was like nothing Harry had ever seen. In his four years at Hogwarts he had become accustomed to the lavish, bordering on grandiose, rooms and decor. But nothing had prepared him for the bathroom of the gods. There was a large sunken rectangular hole that he was confused by, until he noticed the taps that lined it; it was the largest bath that he had ever seen. Straight out of a Roman bathhouse. The idea of multiple men cleaning themselves in an pool sized tub had never appealed to him, and he was glad that he was the only one there.
He began turning on various taps, guessing that a bath this size would take ages to fill, but he stopped when he noticed that the initial stream of water was replaced by different soaps and bubbles that filled the room with the heady scent of perfume. The various colors and shapes mesmerized him and he began turning knobs again, to see what other unexpected thing would come out.
The bath filled more quickly than he had expected, so, many taps went unexplored, and he was soon rushing to turn off all the knobs to avoid flooding the bathroom.
After Harry had finished playing with the different taps, he picked up his egg where he'd set it on his towel and lowered himself into the bath. He had been about to open the egg when jars and bottles on the far side of the bath caught his eye. He swam over and stopped, opposite of where he'd climbed in, where several cylindrical containers filled with small beads were lined up. He picked them up, examining the contents of each one, stopping at a container that contained white beads. Well, it wasn't really, white. More of an off white with a sort of yellowish tint. It reminded him of the color of a chest of drawers that his aunt owned. Aunt Petunia had described it to a guest as antique white. He snorted; who came up with these names. He twisted it around to read the label— Vanilla. He unscrewed the lid and passed the beads under his nose, sighing contentedly as the sweet smell wafted up to him. He remembered overhearing Dean talking about the scent. He had said it was an aphrodisiac. Harry closed his eyes; he wasn't kidding. He measured out a handful of beads.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you."
Harry spun around, sending waves of water rippling out in every direction, the bath beads spilling out of his hand and sinking into the water. He reflexively moved his other hand to cover himself under the water.
"Myrtle? What are you doing here?"
The ghost hovered above him, hands clasped behind her.
"Trying to stop you from doing something you may not want to."
Harry flushed, his skin, already warm from the bath water, became increasingly hotter. "I-I wasn't," he stammered, praying that the bubbles were thick enough to keep him hidden.
Myrtle covered her mouth as she giggled. "Oh, goodness, that's not what I meant." She dropped her hand and tilted her head to the side. "Honestly though, Harry, I understand you have...urges. But a public bathroom? Really?"
Harry wanted to disappear under the surface of the water.
"Anyway, I was referring to those," she said, pointing at the container in his hand.
Harry looked at the half empty container, "What? Using bath beads?"
She nodded, "You never know what unexpected things can come from using too many bath products."
"Like what exactly?"
"Life changing things," she said, with a glint of mischief in her eyes.
"Like my parents not dying? If that's the case I'll dump the whole lot in." Harry stared down at the remaining beads, tempted to let them fall from his grasp.
"As life changing as that would be, that's not what I meant. I think it's our embarrassing moments, the ones that makes us ashamed, that have the biggest impact on our lives, because then we end up spending so much time trying to make amends or ignore them completely. It can make things pretty lonely." She let a small smile grace her lips, but it was overshadowed by the sadness in her voice. "After all, look at me. Can't be any lonelier than a dead girl that no one wants to visit."
"But I'm not alone," Harry said.
Myrtle crossed her arms, the corners of her mouth dropping. "Why do you just assume that everything is about you?"
Harry looked at her blankly, more confused now than he had been to start with.
"Right… thanks Myrtle…" When she lingered, he jerked his head. "Would you mind?" he muttered, embarrassed that he'd been caught bare-chested in the bath.
"Just shout for me if you need someone to do your back," she said with a giggle, disappearing through the wall.
Harry rolled his eyes and sank deeper into the water, doggy paddling back to the other side of the bath and to the egg that he'd nearly forgotten about.
Suddenly, he began to feel very dizzy. The room span around, causing his stomach to twist. He gasped, grasping at the side of the bath, trying to pull himself out, but to no avail. He finally laid his head on the tiles and closed his eyes, riding it out.
When he felt everything become still again, he raised his head and looked around. Myrtle was nowhere in sight. Maybe there was such a thing as too many bath products.
He dragged himself out of the bath, crawling until he was far enough away that he could lay sprawled out on the floor. He laid there, breathing deeply through his nose, allowing the cool tiles to draw the heat from his body and relieve the nausea. The blankets of steam rising from the surface of the bath reached with tendreled fingers to tickle his skin and threaten to undo the work of the tiles that were beginning to lose their cool touch.
He pulled himself back onto his knees and over to where he'd left his clothes and wand. He curled his fingers around the thin piece of wood and flicked his wrist lazily towards the bath.
"Evanesco," he barely managed to say.
The water disappeared immediately, but the moisture in the air took a few minutes longer to dissipate.
"Thank God," he murmured to himself when his body finally started to reach room temperature. He flopped over, remembering last minute to pull his towel over his front. He closed his eyes and briefly thought about what would have happened if he hadn't made it to the edge of the tub. Would he have drowned?
Figures, he thought. A Wizard dying in a bathtub. It would be just his luck; to die in such an ordinary manner after everything he'd been through. He let out a long sigh and let his thoughts drift.
He wasn't sure how long he laid there and if he had a choice, he probably would have slept there. But he knew he had to get up, no matter how he was feeling.
He got up and dried off, pulling his clothes on and sticking his wand and map in his pockets. He went to leave, but turned back when he realized he'd forgotten the whole reason he'd come. He scooped the egg off the floor and cradled it in his arms, glancing sideways at the tub. He pursed his lips and shook his head. Nope, not tonight.
