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17

THE NAKED BATHROOM OCCURRENCE

MUSICAL MOOD FOR THIS CHAPTER: FIONN - DIRTY DANCING

"I swear, if I catch you looking I'll hex you into next week.

The change of seasons was always a curious thing at Hogwarts; fast and abrupt, gone in the blink of an eye. But in between, there were those few days - maybe three or four - that seemed to balance at the edge of the shift, unable to go back, yet reluctant to move on. I had woken up freezing in my bed this morning, even underneath my blanket. The windows in our dorm room had been opened wide - no doubt courtesy of Bernice who wore her Quidditch shorts well into December - frost blooming in their corners like icy flowers. By the time breakfast was over, however, a brilliant sun was dappling the grounds, melting away the first traces of winter that had clung to the bushels of russet heather dotting the way to the Quidditch pitch.

"Quick, hide me!" Katie practically jumped behind my back, burying her face in my hair. She had been doing this all morning already: giving me half a heart-attack because some lanky bloke with glasses had strolled by.

"Katie," I sighed as I watched the tall kid with floppy blond hair pass by, "that guy doesn't even look like Tarquin."

"Are you sure?" She peered over my shoulder, her fingernails digging into my collarbones so that I could feel them even through my jacket.

"Quite."

"Good." Katie surfaced again, albeit still looking wary as she scanned the knots of people that milled around us. She seemed to expect Tarquin to jump out at her any second even though he had left her well alone ever since Halloween. In fact, he seemed to have made sure to stay out of both of our ways and I wondered if this was really the end of it; of years of pining that just ended like this - after one night.

"Look." Katie nudged me with her elbow as we followed the cheerful throng up the steps to the top of the Ravenclaw section. The wind was fiercer up here and clusters of mostly blue-clad people were huddling together on the seats, trying to shield themselves against the frigid air that shattered any illusion of warmth. "Sam looks lonely."

It took me a moment to find him in the pre-game fluster; he was sitting all by himself on an empty bench with his elbows propped up on his knees, staring at the Quidditch pitch, and it hit me then - suddenly - that, while I had been sitting in classes with Sam and sharing meals at the Ravenclaw table for years, I didn't really know who his friends were. There were vague memories - of him and Jasper Holt and Yash Patil playing Wizard Chess in the common room until late - but I wondered if he was close enough to them to actually talk; to share this monumental secret he must have been carrying around for a while.

"Are these seats taken?"

Sam looked up at me somewhat warily, like he wasn't quite sure what to make of this, but then quickly shook his head. "Um, no."

"Great." Katie plopped down on the bench and immediately started to unpack the assortment of snacks she habitually smuggled onto the stands. "Here." She passed a tupperware container on to Sam who just stared at the bell pepper sticks for a long, bewildered moment, before finally looking up, his blonde eyebrows furrowed.

"You shouldn't be so nice to me, you know. I don't deserve it."

"Oh please." Katie had leaned forwards to roll her eyes at him and then pushed the tea that she had just poured from her glittery thermos into his hand. The group of 7th year Ravenclaws behind us was shooting amused glances at us by now, snorting into their palms and pointing at the wonkily patterned porcelain cups Katie was passing around, which she ignored gracefully.

"Yeah. Don't think about it." I wrapped my scarf a little tighter around my neck as a brisk gust of wind swept across the stand, rustling the blue and bronze patterned flags that protruded all around us. I still wasn't exactly ecstatic that his ex-girlfriend thought I had broken them up but then again, I cared only little about what Felicity Boulder thought of me, really. "We're good."

Sam nodded slowly and then looked down to his cup, his fingers ghosting over the blotchy pink flowers that Katie had half-heartedly magicked there along the rim before handing in her transfiguration homework. "Thank you."

I gave him a smile and then wrapped my fingers a little tighter around my cup, savouring the heat of the tea that seeped into my fingers which were already numb from the cold. The players had meanwhile marched onto the pitch and ferocious shouting mingled with the clutter of Ravenclaw chants that were heartily picked up by the crowd around us. "I really hope we beat Slytherin."

"Look how smug they are." Katie glared at the green blobs that had shot into the air, circling the stands like ravenous birds of prey.

"Yeah," Sam said quietly, but he didn't seem to be listening; instead, he was staring at something further down the stands, his frown deepening. Right there, a couple of rows in front of us, Adina Singer was wrapped into Ravenclaw paraphernalia, holding up a hand-painted sign that proclaimed her love for Hector Chang in flashy blue writing.

For a second I wanted to tell him to ignore her; that Hector Chang was a git. But then I remembered that I wasn't supposed to know anything and so I just leaned back again and studied the mostly green bevy of Slytherins that congregated on the opposite stands. They looked disgustingly certain of victory.

"Why is James Potter staring at us?"

"What?" My eyes cut upwards to Sam who was still frowning into the crowd, squinting as though he was trying to sharpen his vision.

"James Potter," he repeated without moving his head, "I think he's looking at us."

I didn't think when I followed his gaze, my eyes wandering beyond Adina's poster this time, and there he was, looking straight at me. I hadn't seen him since he had gotten me out of sports to skive off class with him and I hadn't expected to after the way we had said goodbye then; it had felt final somehow.

It was only a second that our eyes met. I couldn't be sure that he had even been looking properly before but, without really thinking about it, I raised my arm and waved at him.

I was actually waving.

At James Sirius Potter.

And it wasn't the cool, nonchalant kind of lifting-your-arm-for-a-second wave but the spastic, dorky kind that made people look like overly excited Golden Retrievers. The kind of wave that only got more embarrassing the longer it lasted.

"What are you doing?" Katie hissed into my ear and, realising that I had drawn the attention of a couple of sniggering onlookers, I finally dropped my arm lamely again, feeling heat crawl up my face.

James was still looking at me, slightly dumbfounded. Then, quite unexpectedly, the corners of his mouth suddenly tugged upwards as though he was trying to hold in a fit of laughter and he raised his arm high above his head, waving back at me.

Despite myself, I couldn't help but smile.

"This is actually perfect." Katie tapped her red-lacquered nails against the oversized Ravenclaw notice board where Professor Flitwick had put up the dates of our apparition lessons earlier today. I couldn't bring myself to muster more than a half-hearted nod as I continued to frown at the opened book in my lap, muttering a listless 'hmm'. Arithmancy was working my last nerve today.

"You're not even listening."

"What?" I mumbled in response as I flipped back a couple of pages to find some clue on where I had gone wrong in my calculations.

Katie groaned and slumped in the wingback chair across from me, her arms crossed in front of her chest. "Seth."

"I'm sorry." I pushed the book away a little and leaned back in my chair, making a point of looking at her as I cradled the lukewarm cup of tea in my hands. I had been bad company all night, obsessing over homework and finishing this week's detention report for the heads. "So, apparition lessons?"

Katie looked exasperated as she shook her head but I could see the smile that lurked behind her unnerved expression. "I'm not talking about apparition lessons." She brandished her hand like she was fighting off a swarm of pesky midges. "I'm talking about next Hogsmeade weekend."

I frowned at her, still trying to pull my thoughts away from the string of numbers that circulated in my head. Hogsmeade weekends were great but they certainly weren't more exciting than the upcoming apparition training. Everybody in sixth year was talking about it, really, telling wild stories of horrible splinchings that had happened to people they knew.

"Jesus Christ, am I nothing but background noise to you, woman?"

"Don't be such a drama queen, Kat." I laughed and leaned over to tickle her chin with the end of my teal glitter quill. She flinched, swatting at the feather like it was an irksome fly, but it was obvious from the way she pressed her lips together that she was trying hard not to laugh.

"I'm serious," she insisted, "next Hogsmeade weekend is in two weeks' time and it's probably our only chance to go dress-shopping for Slughorn's Christmas party."

"Oh right." I leaned back in my chair, piling my hair atop my head before fixing it rather haphazardly with the hair tie that was dangling from my wrist. "Slughorn's party."

Katie rolled her eyes as she eyed the messy half-up hairdo I had just created; it was probably crooked. "Could you be a little more enthusiastic, maybe?"

"I am, though," I insisted, and I actually meant it; Slughorn's Christmas parties had become the stuff of legends at Hogwarts, and they were quite fun. He usually invited a couple of famous people, basking in their secondhand glory, and then there was amazing food and drink and fantastic live music. The party was also highly exclusive, which meant that, sometime towards the middle of December, people were getting quite reckless to score an invite.

"It's going to be really good this year." Katie had picked up my glitter quill and twirled it lazily in her hand, watching the glitter particles flash as they caught the light. "I heard that Hey Hey Hippogriff are playing." She hesitated for a second, her eyes flitting upwards to meet mine. "And Harry Potter might be coming."

I grimaced at the sound of the familiar surname, well aware that Katie was still staring at me, probably trying to analyse my reaction. She had been waiting to bring this up ever since the Quidditch match last weekend; ever since James Potter had reciprocated my dorky wave in the packed stadium.

Not many people had actually witnessed the scene but, somehow, by Monday the entire castle seemed to know. What was even worse, though, was that, as the story milled through the Hogwarts gossip machinery, it got distorted beyond recognition so that, by Wednesday, James Potter was having a secret affair with 'that Ravenclaw sixth year' who no one had ever seen before and who - and people would insist on that - was probably a veela, a ghost, an undercover princess, a mermaid, an undercover mermaid-princess, or probably a transfigured bowtruckle.

"Can we not talk about this?" I groaned and hugged my knees to my chest for comfort. For the past five years I had neatly slipped under the radar. There might have been the odd occasion in which someone had realised that I was, indeed, a girl and not a small boy crossdressing in a girls' uniform, but those instances had been rare and so insignificant that they had been nothing more but a mere dust grain on the dirty floor that was Hogwarts' social scene.

"Well, we have to," Katie said firmly and straightened her spine, the blazing look of determination glinting in her eyes. "Do you fancy James Potter?"

I spilled a bit of tea down my jumper from shock, my eyes widening as I did a quick scan of the common room to make sure that nobody was within earshot of us before hissing, "don't be ridiculous."

"You haven't answered my question." Katie was leaning towards me, her voice a sing-songy, probing thing that I was afraid might carry to the group of fifth years occupying the chairs closest to us.

"Definitely not, OK?" I mumbled under my breath and pulled the Arithmancy book back onto my lap in a feeble attempt at feigning coolness while my cheeks burned. This was so dumb. "I don't. At all."

I needed this conversation to end right there; to not think about Potter - or the fact that he had been haunting the edges of my thoughts all week - but Katie wasn't so easily put off. "Why did you wave at him like a frantic pygmy puff then?"

She did have a point, but I wasn't going to admit that. I didn't like James Potter.

I couldn't.

"I don't know." I groaned as the memory brought on a renewed wave of mortification. "I - I wasn't thinking."

"Because you fancy-"

"Don't!" I cut her off, eyebrows arched. "Don't go there."

Katie threw her arms up as though words could never be enough to express her frustration with me. "But you are friends?"

"I don't think so?" It came out more like a question than a definite statement, but there really wasn't a clear answer: Potter and I weren't exactly friends but we also weren't 'not friends'. It really didn't make any sense at all and the longer I thought about it the more my head seemed to throb; it felt like my brain was twitching.

"How about we try sorting out your social life for once?" It wasn't the most elegant change-of-subject manoeuvre but my synapses were threatening to snap cleanly in two if they had to process the word 'Potter' just one more time.

"No thanks," Katie said quickly, producing a glossy copy of InStyle from seemingly out of nowhere, "I'm good." And with that, her head disappeared behind the polished cover that announced the perfect guide to choosing the best first-date outfit.

I stared at Emma Stone's beaming face for a moment; her eyes were huge and they were looking directly at me - as though she was watching me - and, before I could help it, my mind had dug up a flashback of the bodiless voice in the library, warning me to be careful. In the aftermath, sitting in the brightly lit common room, it seemed entirely logical that my imagination had been playing tricks on me. Still, I couldn't help the feeling that I was being followed - like someone was creeping around the fringes of my vision - and I couldn't quite shake it off.

"What's wrong?" Katie was peering at me over the edge of her magazine. "You look weird."

"I'm just tired." I rubbed my eyes, deciding that there was no need to burden Katie with this; it was probably only a figment of my overly active imagination. "I think I'll go to bed."

"Already?" Katie had dropped her magazine in her lap, looking wary.

I only nodded. "I could use some sleep. And besides, there's a suspicious-looking first-year who's been skulking around us for the longest time already and there are only so many times I can stomach being asked if my tail glitters under water."

The first week of November had flown by, sweeping away the last remnants of the balmy October weather as it painted the sky above Hogwarts a drab grey that felt depressingly permanent. There seemed to be a perpetual fine drizzle that sprayed the grounds, blending with the misty, cold weather so that the very air itself felt wet. No one in their right minds would have ventured outside if they didn't have to; except for the Gryffindor Quidditch team, of course, who - as Bernice had told me quite indignantly this morning - had been on the pitch since six o'clock.

It did explain why the Great Hall felt unnaturally quiet, though; even for a Saturday morning.

"Can you believe him?" Katie's knuckles turned white as she clenched the fork in her hand, stabbing it repeatedly into her bowl of cereal. Her lips were pressed together into a thin line, the look in her eyes foreboding as she peered past my right ear. She hadn't eaten one bite of her breakfast yet; and not because she was using the wrong piece of cutlery.

"Why does it bother you so much?" I had turned my head back after catching a brief glimpse of Tarquin, sitting at the Hufflepuff table next to a laughing girl who, I assumed, was one of his classmates. Of course I did know why this scene bothered Katie; it would probably bother anyone, really. First the guy had been running after her like a love-sick puppy for years and then she slept with him and suddenly he was ghosting her.

Boys really were the worst.

"It doesn't bother me," Katie said, but her voice sounded just a little too high to be entirely genuine. "It's just sad that he thinks he has to put on a show."

I glanced back at Tarquin again. Apparently he had just said something hilarious since his conversation partner let out a cry of mirth, her hand touching his shoulder and her head leaning towards him. It didn't look as though they were putting on a show.

"Aren't you glad you don't have to have the awkward 'let's-just-be-friends-and-forget-this-night-ever-happened' conversation?" It was a legitimate question. After all, Katie had been keen to avoid Tarquin after Halloween, ducking and hiding whenever she had spotted him in the corridors. When it had become clear that he had no apparent intention to talk to her, however, her attitude had changed drastically.

"Sure." Katie puffed and aimed a particularly violent stab at her cereal bowl. "I'm thrilled."

I wanted to say something; to tell her to go talk to him - tell him how she felt about this whole thing - but before I could even open my mouth, someone plopped down on the empty seat beside me.

"I hate people. All of them." Sam spat disgustedly and there was no need to ask him to specify: just this moment, Hector Chang and Adina Singer had walked into the Great Hall, holding hands.

"Me too!" Katie agreed and she and Sam bumped their fists above the table.

"I can't wait for apparition lessons today," he sighed, looking wistfully towards the closest window, "maybe I'll learn how to apparate out of this hell-hole."

"I'm like - I can't," Katie whined and let her back fall against a thick pillar in the Entrance Hall as more people proceeded to spill out of the Great Hall, rubbing their necks and limbs. The chatter was subdued, as though something terrible had happened, and the sixth years seemed eager to go back to their respective common rooms to retreat for the rest of the afternoon.

Clearly, the first apparition lesson had taken all of us by surprise; while we had been supplied with enough horrible splinching-stories to last us a lifetime, no one had cared to mention that learning to apparate was actually exhausting - physically exhausting.

Of course, nothing of the splinching-stuff had happened - only Peony Butler, a quirky Gryffindor, had had a crying fit towards the end of the lesson because her friend had made her believe that she had apparated off her eyebrows. It had taken the apparition instructor a solid 15 minutes to convince her that that wasn't possible.

"Come on." I held my hand out to Katie to pull her back to her feet and she tumbled into me which almost threw us both off balance. My limbs were sore, feeling like I had picked up Bernice's weight-lifting routine, and my back was tense and stiff; it seemed that trying to get my rather rigid body to dissolve and reform at another place had clearly taken its toll on me.

"No, you go." Katie groaned, her head drooping as though she just had been mortally wounded on a battlefield. "Just leave me here. I can't feel my legs."

"Do you want me to-" I began, but something in Katie's eyes made me stop mid-sentence; they had widened with shock, staring at something behind me, and I snapped around immediately, but it was already too late:

An icy cold wall of water hit me full-on, drenching me from head to toe in what smelled like rainwater.

For a moment, I was too perplex to even move; a couple of leftover sixth years who had witnessed the scene dissolved into fits of laughter, pointing at me and then at the group of tiny first-years who stared at me, eyes wide and full of expectation, with their now empty buckets still clenched in their arms.

"You little shits!" Sam yelled and advanced on the miniature culprits like a maniac, making them all scatter and scream for their lives. "That's 50 points from whatever houses you're in, you bloody-"

"Sam," I said quickly, shaking my arms to rid my soggy jumper of the excess water. "It's fine. Let them go." There was no use in running after a horde of first-years; not only were they unbelievably nimble and quick, but also crafty little buggers. They could basically hide everywhere.

"But- they -" Sam spluttered, looking at me as though he wasn't sure the cold water hadn't rendered me temporarily incapable of thinking clearly. "They-"

"I know." I stepped out of the lake-like puddle that had pooled underneath my feet, ignoring the rather obvious looks I was receiving from my classmates as they walked by. The water had a distinctly stale, earthy smell to it that infused the entrance hall and I realised that it wasn't rainwater; it was water from the Black Lake. "They probably wanted to see if I'll turn into a bowtruckle or something."

Katie snorted, but I wasn't even joking; first years could be extremely gullible - unhealthily so - even more so if they were Muggle-born. And really, who could blame them? All of a sudden you were at a magical castle, living with other underage wizards and nothing seemed impossible anymore; even the idea of mermaids living among the student body.

My squelching footsteps echoed down the corridor. As usual, this part of the castle was eerily forsaken and I was glad for it. The last thing I needed right now was to hang out in the crowded common room, surrounded by people who either thought I was some supernatural creature or, worse, a creepy stalker. It wasn't like I had been entirely anonymous before, but my existence had been blissfully inconsequential to Hogwarts gossip; always an observer, never the cause.

I fully blamed Potter, really. While it had definitely been unbelievably stupid to wave at him in the middle of the packed Quidditch stadium, it wouldn't have been enough to cause an avalanche of ridiculous rumours that got me doused in lake water. Sure, I probably would have suffered through a couple of snide remarks about being a silly fangirl but, since those were ten a penny at the castle, it would have blown over quickly. The fact that James had actually waved back, however, was not going to be dismissed so easily. Of course, all of this didn't explain how I could have been so stupid to actually wave at him in the first place and, more importantly, what the hell was wrong with me.

There was a strange rustle behind me and I stopped dead in my tracks to have a look around. Something was moving behind me - I had seen it from the corner of my eye, slinking along the stone wall - and I quickly fumbled for my wand in my bag. When I turned, however, I was almost surprised to find that I was alone.

"Hello?" I called out, rather feebly, and my shaky voice bounced off the towering walls, multiplying to a strange echo. There was no answer. I hadn't expected one, really. Whoever had heard of an axe murderer announcing themselves formally to their victims before butchering them into pieces.

The dim, flickering light of the torches danced in the soft draught, casting odd, writhing shadows onto the walls, and I dared to take a shallow breath. It had been a mere trick of the light - I had been scared of nothing but shadows.

"Get a grip," I muttered to myself and loosened a shaky breath when I reached the statue of Boris the Bewildered. It had probably been one of the castle ghosts, out for a Saturday night haunting, and, even though I wasn't particularly keen on running into the yammering imprint of some obscure medieval wizard either, most of them were effectively harmless.

Nevertheless, I felt my shoulders relax as soon as I had slipped through the door behind the statue and felt the warmth of the room wrap around me like a comforting blanket. It was hard to be scared of ominous shadows when there were about a hundred lit candles floating above you, dipping everything into a soft, golden glow.

I began to strip off my soaked clothes as I crossed the room, dropping them on the way to the pool; they stuck to me like a cold and wet second skin and I practically had to wrestle them off until I was only in my mismatched bra and knickers. The basin filled up quickly with all the tabs around it on and I peeled off my underwear, not even waiting for it to be completely full before I dived in, letting the hot, foamy water wash over me.

Crack. The sudden sound - though rather soft - startled me as I surfaced again and I turned in the water, my eyes searching the room. I could have sworn it had come from the door but, knowing that its magic prevented anyone from entering whenever the bathroom was occupied, I quickly convinced myself that it had yet just been another figment of my overly productive mind. I was clearly on edge and I needed to come down.

Tilting back my head, I let the warm water swallow me again, shutting out all sight and sound for a blissful moment. I couldn't let things get to me like this; Hogwarts rumours - while ruthless - were also fickle things and prone to lose traction if there wasn't enough fuel to power them any longer. All I had to do was stay well away from James Potter and, with some luck, the castle would already be buzzing with the next great scandal by Monday.

It was then that a loud bang suddenly reverberated from the high bathroom walls and I emerged with a jolt, sure that I had not imagined it this time. My eyes were burning as I struggled to keep them open despite the soapy water that ran down my face but it was too late; all I could see through my blurry vision was the glimpse of a foot and the bathroom door snapping shut behind it.

This definitely hadn't been a ghost.

I swam to the edge of the pool, frantically groping for the towel I had placed there before, only to feel a slab of cold, hard marble underneath my fingertips.

Shit.

The towel was gone and, in a wave of blind panic, I realised that so were my clothes and my wand. Not caring that I basically caused a minor flood, I hoisted myself out of the pool, my wet feet slipping on the marble as I scampered to the usually well-stacked towel rack on the wall, just to find it completely cleared. Apparently, someone had done a thorough job.

The air around me felt thick all of a sudden, like it was trying to smother me, and the whiff of soap that was still lingering in the steamy air filled my nostrils with a sickly sweet stench that made it hard to breathe. I was trapped; stark naked in the Prefects' bathroom, completely wandless and, alas, also without a plan.

All of a sudden, the thick stone door emitted a deep rumbling sound and I whipped around, instinctively covering my most private parts. I had heard this sound before; it was the sound of someone trying to get in. Usually, this wouldn't have bothered me; I had always counted on the door's magic to work. In light of recent events, however, I couldn't be so sure anymore.

"Is someone in there?" A muffled girl's voice carried through the thick wall and I stood frozen like an awkward statue, my heart hammering against my chest as my mind raced through every possible humiliating scenario.

"Hello?" She called again, followed by a sharp knock on the door. "It's only - I really wanted to take a bath and it's been occupied for quite a while now."

I could have let her in; ask her to lend me a jumper or to magic up a towel from the laundry. However, a small voice in the back of my head kept me from acting on my impulse; what if this was a trick? What if the pranksters had returned to put the finishing touch to their work? I couldn't risk being dragged out into the corridor completely naked.

"Anybody in there?" The girl now positively pounded on the door before finally aiming something that sounded a lot like a kick at it. It grew quiet after that and I tiptoed towards the door, pressing my ear against the wood to listen; she had gone, maybe to get Filch or a teacher, and I sank down to the damp floor, my back resting against the cold stone wall.

I was basically fucked.

In the minutes that followed (or was it hours - I couldn't tell) I had three fits of reckless indifference, in which I had actually considered taking the corridors at a run, hoping that they would be conveniently empty. This idea, however, had lost all its appeal the minute I had realised that I really had nowhere to run. If I didn't find my clothes or my wand along the way - which was a gamble I wasn't ballsy enough to take - the only place I could go was the Ravenclaw common room and, for obvious reasons, this was not an option.

The door rumbled again and I lifted my head which had been resting on my knees, waiting for the person on the other side to speak, desperately hoping that it was Katie who had come looking for me.

"You've got to be shitting me." A deep voice growled from behind the thick door and my heart sank.

So much for Katie rescuing me.

"Any idea how long you're gonna be?" The person called again, this time louder, and I felt a jolt in my stomach; I knew this voice. "Only, I've had a really rough day of training and I'd appreciate a bath. Now."

I scrambled to my feet and pressed my ear against the rough wood behind which I could hear impatient footsteps.

"Oi! Is anyone in there?"

I jumped away from the door when I heard someone lean against it from the other side, probably listening for any signs of movement. My heart had crawled up to my throat, making it difficult to breathe - to think. I needed to weigh my options, although, considering that I was trapped in the Prefects' bathroom naked, I didn't really have any.

"Potter?" I finally produced, my clammy fingertips pressing against the moist wood as I waited for an answer.

It came promptly.

"Woodley?"

"Um, yes." I hesitated for a moment, taking the time to choose my next words carefully. I really didn't want to explain my misery in too much detail - not to James Potter anyway - but there was no question that I definitely needed help. "Could you - could you do me a favour?"

"Um, sure?" He sounded puzzled but I decided to ignore the implicit question. I didn't have the luxury to ponder the weirdness of having Potter find me here out of all people and I couldn't allow myself to think about this now - not when I was starkers and on the verge of a proper panic attack.

"Can you get Katie?"

"Who?"

I rolled my eyes at his obvious lack of interest in the people around him. Of course he didn't know who Katie was. "My friend Katie. She's probably in the Ravenclaw common room. I really need-" I broke off, suddenly realising the absolute futility of my attempt; even if James managed to get into our common room on his own, which I seriously doubted, he still wouldn't have a clue who Katie was. It was hopeless, really.

"Hey, are you alright?" His voice was a little softer when he spoke again, muffled against the door as though he had leaned in again, and I loosened a shaky breath.

"Not really." I rested my forehead against the wood and closed my eyes for a second. All the steam and heat from before had evaporated by now and I was starting to shiver as the cold from outside seeped through the cracks in the walls. I was trapped in here and my hopes of getting out of this without being the laughing stock of the entire school were dwindling fast. "Someone stole my wand." I took a deep breath, feeling patches of heat bloom on my neck and face. "And my clothes."

For a moment, James didn't say anything and I already thought he might have not heard me, but then he suddenly cleared his throat. "Um, what?"

"Someone stole all of my things, including the towels." I repeated, my face burning with embarrassment by now. It was one thing to be left stark naked in a boarding school bathroom; it was something else entirely to share this information with James Potter.

"So - um," James trailed off, his voice distinctly throaty as it brushed against the door. "You are..."

"Yes."

"Completely?" As he said it, I could basically hear the smirk that must have been plastered across his face.

"I'm already regretting this," I mumbled, more to myself than to Potter. If this hadn't already been a disaster before, it surely was now.

"I'm only joking, Woodley." He still sounded too amused, but his voice was oddly muffled as though he was speaking through a piece of cloth. "Open the door, will you?"

"What? No!" I said indignantly and automatically wrapped my arms around my chest. "If you really think I'd let you in, you're thicker than I thought you were."

"Don't be such a chicken Woodley and open the door." He laughed - infuriatingly so - and I cursed myself for telling him about my predicament."I promise I won't look."

"Never."

"You can't stay in there forever."

"I don't know," I said stubbornly, looking around the marble-coated room, "it's starting to grow on me, really."

James snorted. "Come on, trust me."

"But I don't."

"Woodley."

"Potter."

It grew quiet for a moment and I wondered if James had left. He could have been getting a professor to break the charm on the door, which probably would have been even more undignified than just streaking down the corridor, banking on the fact that it was Saturday evening and people had better things to do than loitering in dark hallways.

"Please," he suddenly said quite softly and - for lack of a better alternative - I caved.

"Fine. But I swear, if I catch you looking I'll hex you into next week."

"OK," James said simply and, after I took one more steadying breath, I slowly turned the doorknob, opening the door just an infinitesimal amount.

I couldn't see James at all; only his outstretched hand, in which he was holding a burgundy coloured piece of cloth. I snatched it from his grip and then quickly retreated into the bathroom again, closing the door behind me for good measure. As I unfolded the piece of cloth, I realised that it was James's Quidditch jersey.

"I syphoned off most of the dirt."

"Most of the dirt?" I repeated, looking at the crumpled T-shirt that had massive grass-stains all over its front. What the hell was he doing on that broomstick?

"I really don't think you are in a position to be picky, Woodley."

As much as I hated to admit it, he was right; a dirty Quidditch jersey was better than nothing - even if it smelled faintly of sweat. I pulled it over my head and it fell down to my upper thighs, only just covering my bum but, considering that many girls at Hogwarts wore dresses like that on a regular basis, it really wasn't too bad. At least I wasn't naked anymore.

"I think that works," I told James as I stepped out into the corridor, both of my hands gripping the hem of the shirt, trying to stretch the cloth as much as possible. "Thanks."

"Sure," he said, leaning against the doorframe, his arms crossed in front of his shirtless chest and I noticed the string of tiny black symbols - no, letters - along the inside of his right biceps. I tried to focus on that rather than on the fact that he was half-naked; again, but my cheeks still burned through the chill in the drafty corridor. We had been here before, in this exact place, yet somehow it felt stranger still.

Probably - and I realised this with a jolt - because I was staring at his naked torso, and so I quickly tore my eyes away to look up at him; but James didn't even seem to have noticed. He was only frowning at me - specifically at the letters that spelled out his last name across my chest - before his gaze drifted to where my hands were clutching the hem of the jersey.

"Um, Potter?"

His eyes cut upwards and he blinked at me a few times before narrowing his eyes. "What happened?"

I shook my head. "I don't know, really. It's been a shitty few days." There really wasn't any other way to put it and I suddenly had to think about the odd warning I had received in the library again. Apparently someone really had it out for me - a stunt like this wasn't a coincidence; it had to be planned.

"Well, I think I should go," I said awkwardly, not quite sure what the protocol for a situation like this was. What did you say to the guy who had just found you locked into a bathroom, completely starkers? "Thanks again."

"Sure. No problem." James smiled, the onset of the dimple evident on his right cheek, and I decided that it really was time to leave. I had been standing in nothing but a Quidditch jersey and talking to a shirtless James for long enough already.

"Hey Woodley!"

I turned back before I reached the corner, still pulling on the bottom of the T-shirt. "Yeah?"

"I was just wondering," he said casually, a grin plastered across his face and his hands tucked into the pockets of his joggers, "does your hair turn blue underwater? Because I heard that happens to mermaid princesses."

"Oh, shut up!" I called back, and - before James could see the grin on my face - I quickly turned away again and disappeared behind corner.

A/N: So I feel really bad for taking so long to finish this chapter... I just really wanted to get it right and uni is killing me right now :( All of your lovely comments actually made the last two weeks bearable for me, so thank you so much for that! I know I say it a lot, but you guys are all awesome human beings who deserve all kinds of wonderful things! This just had to be said.

I hope you liked this chapter and, as usual, I can hardly wait to hear your thoughts on it! I really greatly appreciate your opinions and the feedback you give me. Thank you so much and lots of love :)