Harry took the floo to Hogwarts a little early. Wanting a chance to unpack and settle in before the feast. He was looking forward to Hogwarts food, the kitchens were really excellent, he had missed the treacle tart. He stepped out of the fireplace into his suite of rooms. The floo network got hooked up special for teachers since you cant directly apperate onto Hogwarts grounds. Harry looked around with interest. He'd never been in any of the teacher's quarters, Neville had been right. The rooms were spacious and comfortably outfitted. Throwing his jacket and wand onto the bed and kicking his extendable trunk into place at the foot of the bed he then headed to the restroom. Not having to use the student baths was a definite perk of coming back as a teacher. He noticed steam coming from the bath around the corner hidden by a decorative screen. The screen reminded him of the prefects bathroom. A suggestive merwoman, dark-haired and grinning, swished her tail at him when he entered. Harry figured the bath had started automatically when he walked in. It's little wonders like that which, even after all these years in the wizzarding world, still amazed him. He tossed his robes on the floor, thinking a nice refreshing dip before supper might calm his nerves. He stopped in his tracks before he was able to take his pants off, shocked. There was someone in his bath.

Harry tried to spin and turn around, back away and apologize at the same time, the sudden movement caused his foot to hit a puddle of water, his arms pin wheeled and he fell face first into the steaming tub. Behind him the merwoman screeched in outrage, her screen toppling over. Gasping for air Harry struggled against the wet form underneath him, his hands slipping. Eventually he was able to push himself up to stare in confusion at the horrified face of Draco Malfoy.

"Er...hulo Malfoy"

"Potter. What. Are. You. Doing?" Asked Malfoy, trying to regain his composure.

"Erm...well I er...I'm teaching here...so I floo'd in. They specially connected the fireplaces. And then I decided to take a bath before breakfast...you know...calm the nerves and then I saw someone was in here so I tried to leave and then I well. I fell."

"Get off of me Potter."

"Oh!" Blushing furiously at both his babbling and the fact that he'd been too busy babbling to move, Harry struggled up and out of the bath.

"What are you doing here Malfoy?" Harry asked, old suspicions rising up. Harry had hated Draco Malfoy almost the entire time that he had known him. A lot of things had happened during the war, he had given up on hating Malfoy but that old suspicion was almost an ingrained habit.

"Don't look at me like that Scarhead. I'm in your presence so I must be up to something. You Floo into my private rooms, jump into my bathtub then have the audacity to ask me that!"

"Your rooms?" Harry blinked. Was he really in the wrong?

"I teach potions. I just started this term." Malfoy said in his haughty tone. Harry had to hand it to him, he was remarkably composed for being naked, sans a few well placed fragrant bubbles.

"You teach...we're teaching...?"

"Yes Potter. Though considering you can barely talk I highly doubt you have the qualifications." Malfoy sneered.

"And what are your qualifications Malfoy? I happen to remember beating you in potions sixth year."

"Oh yes, kissing Slughorn's arse counts as beating me. I happen to have been distracted that year."

"Letting in your Death Eater pals" Retorted Harry. From the look on Malfoy's face he knew his words had reached their target. Malfoy stood up from the bath, both of them too enraged for Malfoy's nakedness or Harry's partially clothed dripping mess to make a difference.

"Leave Potter. Now. This breach of privacy will be reported to the Headmistress. Forgive me if I don't want to spend more time in the bathroom with you than I have to." It was Harry's turn to wince. Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. Malfoy's tears. Harry's rage. Sectumsempra. Malfoy's blood coating the floors and mixing with the water. He'd crossed a line that day, he'd almost killed Malfoy. He shouldn't have brought sixth year up at all. He knew very well that Voldemort had Malfoy's family hostage, that he hadn't had a choice, or not much of a one. His disgraced father had long since lost favor with Voldemort. And Malfoy's mother...she was the reason he was alive. She could have told Voldemort he was still breathing. He doubted he could have woken up after a second killing curse.

Harry shuddered as memories flooded in. Desperately he pushed them away. "Sorry, I'll...uh. There must have been some mistake with the Floo. Connected me to the wrong fireplace.." Harry turned on his heels. He grabbed his robes off the floor then rushed to the bed, Malfoy's bed, to retrieve his coat and wand. He eyed his trunk but he'd have to come back for it. There wasn't time to find his room now before the feast and he was expected at the staff table.