CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE—A Bit of Privacy

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Hermione and Anthony each rushed out of their rooms when they heard banging on their common room door. Anthony cautiously opened it.

"Blimey, mate, what happened?" he asked as Ron stumped into the room. His hair was wet. His leg bled a trail down the hallway from the washroom.

"I'll give you six guesses," Ron grumbled.

Hermione Summoned her tiny blue bag. It was stuffed with clothes (hers, Ron's, and Harry's), books, Arthur's tent, and several medicinal items.

Ron slumped onto the couch. "I'm gonna shower on the bloody pitch, I am," he griped.

Hermione knelt on the rug to get a better look at his leg.

"Dittany will fix this right up," she assured him.

Anthony paced behind the sofa. "This is mad. Absolutely mad. I'm going to talk to Professor Flitwick about this!"

Hermione agreed. It just wasn't safe in there, anymore. Not when she and Ron had bounties.

Well, she was married to a professor. A professor with a private washroom. So at least Hermione wasn't left in dire straits.

After she fixed up Ron and he returned to the safety of the tower, Hermione rucked up her courage. She grabbed her toiletries and headed to the shared bedroom. It really wouldn't do to trade one danger for another, so she dropped the bag on the bed and went to the sitting room to warn her husband of the new arrangement.

She poked her head into the sitting room. Severus sat in his usual armchair near the hearth. Two books floated before him as he scrawled notes on a parchment.

Hermione stopped at the opposite end of the couch. "In the interest of not defeating the whole point, and you coming in to hex me, I'm going to be using your washroom from now on."

He scowled at her, more in a 'why are we discussing your bathroom habits' than a 'you are an insufferable know-it-all' way.

"Is this a joke?"

"Why would I shower where the Greengrass sisters will hex me when I could shower here?" she asked. She pointed back to the washroom. "Are you going to hex me while I'm starkers in the shower?"

"I hadn't planned on it." The same look of royal confusion warred with royal disgust.

"Well, there you are, then."

He had perfected a scowl that read 'you're dumber than a troll' and it made Hermione see red.

"Ron has had to memorize everyone's schedule to secure a solid eight minutes alone in the Prefect's showers. And it didn't even matter—someone cut his leg right open today! In the Prefect's washroom!"

"I didn't say no," he said, face unmoved. They both knew she meant a Slytherin Prefect had attacked him.

Hermione crossed her arms. "I know there are people out there—their businesses are being burned or their children get kidnapped, and I'm here complaining about a shower."

"You could also be kidnapped." A modicum of concern sent her way and he still had his lip curled like someone sent him a Dung Bomb.

She scoffed. "By the Greengrass sisters? Not likely."

Now he gave her the Dubious Condescension – Unamused Mode.

"You think the two of them could drag me out of this school?" she challenged.

Severus resumed reading. "They each received the same grade as you in Defence," was all he said.

"Yes, and didn't I lose points for raising my hand one too many times?" she recalled.

His black eyes slanted to her again. "They also annoyed me."

Hermione laughed. As she turned away, she said, "Don't forget—don't hex me."

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Severus rubbed his face with both hands. The shower kicked on in the other room.

It was impossible to not imagine her nude under the water. He forced his mind to remain chaste.

They both had been meticulous about being fully clothed when the other could see. But neither of them slept in robes or uniforms. The shirts she slept in were violent purple Weasley product shirts or Gryffindor Quidditch t-shirts, himself in black t-shirts.

Hermione was uncomfortable when she could see his Dark Mark. He tried to be mindful.

Her bare legs flashed into his head. If it wasn't her bare legs against him at night when it was cold it was her load of hair encroaching on his pillow. She smelled of coffee and vanilla, when she didn't smell like a day in the potion's lab.

And it was embarrassing how often he would find himself with his eyes on her backside. He chided himself for being weak.