The Prefects' Bathroom
Grimacing as she lowered her aching body into the large tub in the Prefects' bathroom, Moire let out a small hiss as her tender ribs and stiff shoulders touched the piping hot water. Little by little, she managed to somewhat relax. She had had a love-hate relationship with Quidditch season due to the intense training it required, though she had to admit that the privilege coming with the title of Captain allowing her to use the giant tub and fragrant soaps and oils was a plus that the rest of the team didn't have. It was especially nice when it had been exceptionally muddy and rainy outside as October had just began, resulting in the team being in a foul mood and heading straight to their dorms after practice. Moire had even heard Scorpius and Albus argue over who got to use the shower first as she separated from the group to head straight towards the oh-so-prized Prefects' bathroom.
The two shitheads had been extra unfocused during their practice, resulting in about three quarters of her injuries, the Bludgers having touched her ribs twice in the same spot and hit her in the shoulder. Her padding spell had absorbed enough of the shock to avoid any damage requiring a visit to the Hospital Wing, but she knew the bruising would be bad. It had already started appearing, a very faint greenish blue against her pale skin, extending all across her left side from above her hip bone to under her breast and all over her shoulder.
"Whatever those two bloody fuckers were distracted with better have been worth it," she mumbled.
Her voice echoed in the emptiness of the room. She attempted to roll her shoulder, but the pain seemed to be getting worse. Maybe she should pay a visit to Matron Hannah Longbottom, formerly Abbott, after her bath. She was in no hurry though, and she slowly scrubbed herself before refilling the tub once more, content with just sitting in the hot water. Moire did not leave until she looked up to the window and saw that the sky was significantly darker than when she had entered the bathroom, having left Gryffindor to practice about an hour before sunset, just as the rain had stopped. Difficultly, she hoisted herself out of the tub and dried herself with one of the fluffy white towels restocked by the elves. However, looking at the corner of the room where she usually left her bag during her after practice bath, she couldn't find it. Cursing herself, she realized she had left it in the shared room.
The Prefects' bathroom was divided in two sides, one for girls and one for boys, per Hogwarts' old-fashioned standards. The two rooms were practically identical, both containing a tub the size of a swimming pool, several sinks and mirrors, and roughly two dozen toilet stalls. There was a separate entrance for both of the bathrooms, both protected by passwords. However, someone had had the totally useless idea to put a little hallway between the two, complete with stone benches and racks, and closed off on both sides with curtains. There was a spell put in place so that the boys could not open the curtains leading to the girls' side of the bathroom, and vice versa. The area had been deemed neutral and students could hang their robes or jackets, or drop their bags containing their change of clothes or personal belongings off on of the benches if they wished, though most preferred to take it with them. However, Moire had needed to sit for a second, drained from practice, and had decided to take off her muddy clothes in the neutral area instead of the pristine bathroom. That's when, she assumed, her bag had been left forgotten on the bench. Wrapping the towel around herself, she ventured in the hallway.
Thankfully, it had been empty. She quickly slipped on clean pair of underwear and warm muggle sweatpants. Putting on her bra had been a challenge and it took a painstakingly long time to fasten it due to her throbbing shoulder, which reaffirmed her need to go see Longbottom. She looked at her long-sleeved shirt apprehensively, knowing the process of putting it on would hurt like a bitch, but as she was about to start the dreaded task, the curtains on the boys' side opened up, revealing none other than the reason for most of her headaches these past couple of weeks. James Potter blinked twice, not immediately realizing what was going on, before his hazel eyes widened, his cheeks turning the color of the scarf he held in his hands. He sputtered for a bit before regaining control of his movements, swiftly closing the curtain.
"I'm so sorry, McLeoch! I was just coming for my shoes! I didn't think someone would still be here! Please don't kill me, I didn't see anything."
Moire was sure that her own cheeks were rather red. She spotted said shoes under the opposite bench and cursed herself for her lack of attention. Potter was still rambling excuses behind the curtain. She let out a sigh.
"It's fine, Potter. I should've taken my bag next door with me."
"I'll wait until you're done," he assured.
It would take a long time. In fact, Moire realized as she tried to put the shirt on, this was not going to happen anytime soon. Her shoulder refused to move an inch without protesting now, and she weighed her options before biting back a curse.
"… Potter?"
"Yes?" He sounded a little scared.
"I… I hurt my shoulder. Bad. And I can't… I can't move it. Can you help me?"
There was a short silence, before the curtain opened slowly, revealing a very red James Potter. His wet hair seemed to be sticking out more than when he had first walked in on her, and she assumed his nervous tick of running his hand through it had resurfaced.
"I got you," he said somewhat caringly.
James' eyebrows furrowed when he took a better look at her. She knew she looked a mess. The large bruise on her side was already turning a darker blue than before, definitely visible now. He palpated her shoulder gently.
"It's swelling up. Merlin, what happened to you?"
"Your bloody brother is what," she grunted, her cheeks tainted pink by the whole situation. "The twat was distracted at practice, and so was the other one, and as a result, I got my arse kicked by Bludgers.
Very gently, with a softness she didn't think James Potter capable of, he helped her put her injured arm through her sleeve and her head through the collar of the shirt. The rest went smoothly and mostly in silence as James picked his muddy practice shoes from under the bench and hit them with a quick Tergeo and stuffing them in his bag. He picked hers up next.
"C'mon, I'm walking you to the Hospital Wing."
"What makes you think I'm going there?" Bullshit, she was.
"I don't think anything. I'm taking you there. And I don't think it would be very wise of you to argue."
"Fine. Help me up."
Her side, though not as bad as her shoulder, made it difficult for her to stand up. So, when James offered his arm, she took it. She didn't expect for it to be this hard. Seriously, did the man have rocks under his skin or something? Shaking off the thought, she stood up and opened the curtain.
"See you on the other side, McLeoch?"
"Sure, just don't be bragging to the Hogwarts population that you saw Moire McLeoch's tits, will ye?"
"No promises," he laughed, a slight tinge of red still coloring his cheeks.
She exited through her side, taking tiny steps, and when she opened the bathroom door, James was waiting for her, both their bags on his shoulder. He offered her arm for her to lean on again, which she refused for the first half of the trip before the aching in her ribs prevented her from standing straight on her own. She was painfully aware of the looks and whispers as they walked through the hallways, which were just beginning to fill up with people going to get dinner. By the time they reached the Hospital Wing, it had seemed to Moire that she had seen at least half of Hogwarts and was ready for the ground to swallow her whole.
Matron Longbottom had fussed over her for a bit before making her drink a couple of potions, which she assured would help numb the pain soon, and wrapping her shoulder up so it wouldn't move too much. She had closed the curtains around her bed with a raised eyebrow at James before helping Moire take her shirt off, which was funny in its own way. However, she bit back any snarky comment about how James had seen it already, since Matron Longbottom was technically his godmother, and saying anything would most likely end up reaching Ginevra Potter's ears. Hannah had, however, discharged her quite fast, assuring her that she would feel better soon and there was no way for her to stay overnight. When she had exited from behind the curtains, James was still there. He diligently walked her back to the Dungeons, and just like during the summer break, Moire had to admit he was a rather nice bloke and had come a long way since their third year.
"Thanks, Potter."
"No problem. Feel better. Let me know if you need another strong arm to hold you up." Or maybe not.
The laughing glint behind his glasses told her he was kidding, and she allowed a smile to stretch her lips.
"You'll be the first I call."
He helped her hoist her bag on her good shoulder and she uttered the password before entering the common room.
In retrospect, she probably should've insisted to sleep at the Hospital Wing.
"Well fuck, McLeoch, didn't know you had the hots for my brother. I thought you had higher standards than that," Albus teased, looking like Christmas had just come early.
She squinted at him and pointed an accusing finger as the rest of the common room had silenced up, following the newest gossip.
"Listen to me you fucking prick. Your brother had to take me to the Hospital Wing after you and the other idiot fucked around at practice thinking of Salazar knows what and landed three Bludgers on me! So, you two do not get to participate in the gossip because it would not have occurred if you had fucking focused!"
Or at least, that's what she meant to say. However, in her state of fury at the two dumbasses, her accent came out. Big time. What exited her mouth instead sounded more like:
"Listen tae me ye feckin' prick. Yer brither hud tae tak' me tae th' Hospital Win' efter ye an' th' other divit fucked aroond at practice thinkin' ay Salazar knows whit an' landed thee Bludgers oan me! Sae ye tois dinnae gie tae pure dae it in th' blether coz it woods nae hae occurred if ye hud feckin' focused!"
Years of living with Moire had turned McKenzie fluent in Pissed-Off-McLeoch, which she translated to a very confused Albus who at least had the decency of looking somewhat guilty.
"You know the rumors will keep going, right?" Ever so sensible Erin warned.
"Eh, it'll blow over. They'll find some other scandal to focus on in two days, I reckon."
oOo
They didn't. For the next month, well into the start of November, all the rest of the student population did was gossip about James Potter and Moire McLeoch's alleged relationship and what they were up to. If they so much as nodded to each other in passing, the hallways would explode in not so subtle whispers, varying between "They look so cute together" and "I don't know what he sees in her" (those mostly from James' admirers), but the one that had almost made Moire hex someone was the "Oh, finally, I was getting sick of all the sexual tension between those two." Olivia Thompson had almost jumped her, but Moire, who had been looking for an excuse to draw her wand, had taken care of it with a Bat Bogey hex before going back to her day.
The rumors had Moire in a permanent state of crankiness, and she used her foul mood and rage to fuel her during the first Quidditch game of the season, positively crushing Hufflepuff. A memorable moment had been when the commentator had said that she had been playing beautifully, and that Potter was proud from where he was sitting in the bleachers. In her anger, she had hit the Quaffle coming in her direction so hard with the tail of her broom that it had flown more than halfway across the field, past the stunned Hufflepuff team. However, after the two long seconds it had taken to zoom across the Quidditch pitch, the players had all seemed to awaken. It was thankfully intercepted by McLaughlin, who had taken it the rest of the way and scored against Hufflepuff. Needless to say, they had won the game by a very large margin. Later on, she was seen snogging a seventh year Gryffindor who was not James Potter. That's what it had taken for the Hogwarts population to stop spreading stories about James and Moire.
"So, what ended up happening with David McLaggen?" Rose asked, on their way to the Prefects' bathroom.
"Who?"
"The guy you were snogging last night? After your victory against Hufflepuff?"
"Oh! Yeah, nothing. He was quite self absorbed, so I excused myself, and went back to my room. And then later that night, I went to fly on the pitch for a bit with Potter."
"I thought he was doing homework with Scorpius last night?"
"James, not Albus."
Rose gave her a pointed look as she gave the password to the bathroom.
"What?"
"You and James flew together?"
"Yeah, he was already there so we raced for a bit, and then just tossed a Quaffle around."
"Moire, the rumors just stopped, do you want them to start again?"
"It's not like that, we're honestly just mates. Which I can't believe I just said about James Potter."
It was true, since he had helped her get to the Hospital Wing, she had found herself almost enjoying his presence. He had been not entirely insufferable and Moire had to admit, he was rather funny at times. Of course, their newly born friendship had only fueled the rumors, which did not help her little nighttime issues, resulting in her waking up panting and clutching her sheets, toes curled, an annoyingly warm feeling between her legs. Her sex dreams had reoccurred, about three or four times, since then and each time, it seemed a bit harder to get her bearings again. So, to avoid that happening again, she had brewed a No-Dream Potion that she took every night.
"Whatever, Moire, just don't tell me I didn't warn you," Rose shrugged, taking her clothes off to reveal her bathing suit. She fumbled a bit with the knobs before deciding on a combination of roses and coconut scented bubbles.
The tub filled slowly as Moire folded her own clothes into her bag.
"Also, Aunt Ginny just wanted to confirm you will be attending Teddy and Vic's wedding?"
"I wouldn't miss it for the world. But you guys have been invited by the Laird to attend the family gathering right after. It starts on the evening of Christmas Day, so I'd spend half the break at yours, and you'll finally come to the Manor for the other half."
"Family gathering? That sounds quite interesting."
"It usually is. The whole clan meets up once a year and we all party every single day until New Year's Day. It's my favorite time of the year."
"I'd personally be honored to come! And I'm sure the others will as well. I'll owl Mum later tonight."
"Well that's settled in that case. Scorpius is also invited, by the way."
Rose's cheeks flamed up.
"That's a good thing, not that it would affect my judgement."
"Yeah, right. Sandalwood," Moire smirked, getting in the swimming pool-like tub. With satisfaction, she saw Rose's already red cheeks turn even redder.
oOo
"You're doing it wrong," Moire pointed, stepping away from her cauldron and over to James'. She, along with Emma who was her partner for the class, were already done with theirs.
"Oh, believe me, I know," her answered, eyebrows furrowed. His hair growing potion was supposed to turn a light blue, but it was instead a deep purple. Fred had seemed to give up and was currently stacking ingredients together, attempting to make a tower out of it.
Professor Khan liked her class to be a bit on the noisier side. She allowed her students to walk around, trading ingredients, and giving each other pointers and hints. For her first and second year, Moire had had Professor Slughorn before he had finally retired, and though the man was a good teacher, his class was much quieter. She had found enjoying the buzz of the class and had gotten the opportunity to learn several tricks from her classmates over the past few years that had allowed her to perform her potion making.
"Let's see. You added the pixie wings?"
"Yes."
"How about the mandrake leaves?"
"I did."
"Two drops of bulbadox juice?"
"Yes, I clearly remember adding them."
Fred looked up from his stack.
"You? Mate, I was the one who added them."
The two cousins looked at each other before realizing their mistake.
"Alright, so twice as much bulbadox juice then. You just have to neutralize the two extra drops and stir well until it turns blue. Then, turn the heat off, and keep stirring until you reach the shade of blue it should be."
"And exactly how does one neutralize bulbadox juice?"
"Come on, Potter, you know that one. We went over it in the revisions essay last week."
He thought for a second, and Moire couldn't help but look at his bottom lip, which he had a nervous habit of nibbling when he was in deep thought.
"Dragon blood!" He exclaimed suddenly, making her jump and breaking her trance. "Adding dragon blood can neutralize certain corrosive ingredients, including bulbadox juice, granted an equal amount of blood has been added."
"Textbook definition, Potter. Good job. So, if you add two drops of dragon blood to neutralize the two extra drops of bulbadox juice, and follow the instructions I just gave you, you should be fine."
Thankfully, she had managed to keep her trademark smirk on, and hadn't been betrayed by her cheeks. Why the hell was she looking at Potter's lips?!
oOo
"We have got to stop meeting in the Prefects' bathroom," Moire said, eyebrow raised, as she walked into the neutral room, her hair still wet from her bath, where James had thankfully just finished getting dressed.
"Well, at least this time at least, you're not half naked," he smirked.
"Careful, Potter, the rumors just stopped recently, we wouldn't want them to start again. Thompson almost gouged my eyes out the first time. Besides, don't act as if you didn't appreciate the view."
He at least had the decency to blush.
"Great job against Ravenclaw by the way. I didn't get a chance to congratulate you guys since someone was surrounded by half the female population in Hogwarts."
"Are you admitting I'm handsome, McLeoch?"
This time, she blushed.
"I'm kidding. But thank you."
There was a silence during which she sat down and laced up her shoes.
"By the way, I don't know if Rose told you yet, but you're invited to the Manor this winter. After Vic's wedding, of course."
"She must've forgotten to tell me. But thank you for the invitation."
"Hey, your family had to put up with me this summer. Now, it's only fair you guys get a taste of what partying like a McLeoch is. It's not for the faint of heart, I must warn you."
James laughed. Moire had realized over the two weeks she had spent at the Burrow that he had a contagious kind of laugh that seemed to bounce around the room and made you want to join in.
"I'll keep that in mind," he answered, his still sparkling with laughter behind his glasses.
"Hope you can hold your liquor. My cousins and I are not known for going easy."
"The Laird must be proud."
"What happens in the Manor's barn stays in the Manor's barn. No parents are allowed. Besides, what the Laird doesn't know cannot hurt him."
He didn't answer. Instead, he smiled fondly at her, and she hated herself for it, but her heart sped up a bit as it reminded her of the way he smiled in her last dream as he held her against him, their bodies intertwined. She forced herself out of it.
This is exactly why I take the No Dream potion, she thought, realizing she had been standing motionless, a faraway look on her face, for too long.
If he had noticed anything, he didn't say it. Instead, he ran a hand through his hair, and the citrusy pine trees hit her square in the nose.
"I have to go… Library… Lily's potions homework…," she stuttered out, which made James raise an eyebrow, before grabbing her bag and running out.
Hey guys! Sorry for the late chapter. Next one should be posted shortly. Leave a review to let me know what you think of this one and I'll see you soon!
