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The Prefects' Bathroom
Sarah Rettger
Poseidon was not in his usual place on the wall, and I suspected that he had gone to visit the mermaid in the male prefects' bathroom. Most of the other girls, I thought, would gladly have joined him. When our bathroom was full, the conversation always turned to speculation on what Cedric Diggory and company might be doing a floor below us. That was one reason I preferred the pool when the rest of the girls were elsewhere.
Besides that, I liked to have a few minutes to myself once in a while. It was a relief to hear the sound of bubbles and water pouring out of the taps instead of "Angelina, I don't understand the Potions assignment" or "Angelina, I don't know what to do!"
Not that I minded helping Hermione, of course - Harry and Ron were her best friends, but anyone could see that they weren't the ones to advise her about Viktor Krum. I didn't know that my advice was much more valuable, though - I couldn't speak from experience, since I had never had an international Quidditch star invite me to visit him over the summer. Alicia had probably been more helpful; she had gone through her trunk and provided Hermione with a wide array of romantic heroines to serve as examples.
I wouldn't have minded some examples of my own. The past three or four days had just been one disaster after another - an Arithmancy test that I had forgotten to study for, Hypatia's broken wing, a note from Filch demanding to know why Gryffindor tower was full of canary feathers, several sleepless nights, and the like. The few times I had seen Fred outside of class, I had ended up snapping at him and running off to take care of something else.
My week had ended with a letter from Dad. Attila, Dad's great horned owl, had brought it to me at breakfast, since Hypatia still couldn't leave the owlery. I hadn't had time to read it until I had gotten back to the common room two hours before.
A large blue bubble drifting by my nose drew my mind back to the present. The bath was full, and the bubbles were starting to flow over the sides. I added a bit more red foam and turned off all the taps. Leaving my robes neatly folded on the side of the pool, I climbed in.
Had the prefects' bathrooms always existed, I wondered, or had they been put in later? I was grateful to whoever was responsible. After Quidditch practices the year before, a hot bath had always relaxed me, especially when I had been bruised by a stray Bludger or two. There was no Quidditch this year, but I had found no less need for time alone in the bath.
Since the Yule Ball, I had learned just how hard it was to find time alone anywhere at Hogwarts. While I knew that Draco wasn't actually spying on me, I also knew that anything he saw would eventually get back to Mum via Narcissa.
Even though publicly, nothing had changed about my relationship with Fred - only Lee, George, Alicia, Katie, and Hermione knew - I still felt a twinge of panic every time Atilla brought mail from Mum and Dad. A Howler wasn't Mum's style - if she found out about Fred, I'd get a letter hinting very quietly at what would await me at home. Today's letter, at least, had contained none of that.
Fred understood the need for secrecy perfectly. I didn't know how he did it - from what he said, his mother was the most wonderful woman in the world, certainly not the type to threaten him with the Imperius Curse if he disobeyed her. I didn't like what-ifs, but sometimes I couldn't help wondering how life might have been different with Mrs. Weasley for a mother.
I heard the bathroom door open, and I sighed. I had deliberately waited until almost midnight to take a bath because I was sure that everyone else would be done. I had no desire to see any of the other prefects at the moment. I just hoped it wasn't Victoria Fawcett who was disturbing my peace - my patience was gone, and if she started another diatribe about how lucky she was that Derek had finally discovered her, I might use the opportunity to practice the new hexes we were learning in Charms.
There were footsteps coming around the corner, but I still couldn't see who it was.
"I hope you appreciate this, Angelina. I nearly dropped this tray when I had to run from Filch."
"Fred!" I didn't know what surprised me more: the fact that Fred had just let himself into the female prefects' bathroom, which was strictly off-limits (I had let Katie in once, but there had been good reason), or that he had brought a silver tray laden with a variety of fruits and sweets. "What are you doing here?" I finally asked.
"I've hardly seen you in three days," said Fred, settling himself on the side of the pool and offering me a grape. "You've been so busy. Katie said you were probably in here."
I lifted one hand out of the water and took the grape. "But how did you get in here? And where did you get the food?"
Fred kissed me before answering. "The food is courtesy of the house elves, who all hope that you are in a better mood soon. As for getting in here, George and I made a useful discovery during our third year. No matter what the official password is, the door will always open for "Neptune's beard.""
"And just how many times have you tried this?" I asked laughing.
The tips of Fred's ear went slightly pink. "Once or twice," he said. "We tried to spy on Percy's girlfriend last year, but we almost got caught. This is the first time I've brought food, though."
I took another grape from the tray. "I'm glad you came." I was thrilled to finally have some time alone with Fred, but I had to admit that I had never imagined talking to him while I was covered only by a layer of rainbow-colored bubbles. It reminded me of a scene Alicia had read to me from The Amorus Charm.
Fred looked around the bathroom. Definitely nicer than ours," he said approvingly. "I can't imagine not having to step over someone else's dirty robes to get to the door."
Having heard enough stories about the sixth year Gryffindor boys' dormitory, I had no trouble imagining what their bathroom looked like. Deciding that I didn't really want to know more about the subject, I said nothing.
Fred was now amusing himself with the bubbles that floated away every time I moved. "I didn't realize you were so easily amused," I said. "You don't strike me as the kind of person who'd be content to sit and play with bubbles for the rest of your life."
"Not at all," Fred replied. "I was just thinking about our latest invention: Belching Bubbles. If you mix them with the Pepper Powder George made last month, you can make someone breathe fire." His eyes sparkled with delight.
"Just what I need to do - explain to Filch why there are scorch marks on all the armchairs in the common room." Even thought I knew that I, as a prefect, would be responsible for whatever went wrong, I couldn't help laughing at the thought of Neville breathing fire.
"We'll make sure everyone uses it outside," said Fred good-naturedly. "No, I've got a better idea. We'll feed it to the skrewts and see if they get any worse." He dropped a strawberry into his mouth. "Hey, what's going on with Hermione? Is that story about her and Krum true?"
I sighed. "She's not cheating on Harry, if that's what you mean. But Krum did ask her to visit him over the summer, and she doesn't know what to do about it."
"I'd think she'd be head over heels for him."
"She's not. I promised I wouldn't say anything, though." Hermione had sworn me to secrecy before confessing that while she was aware that both Krum and Ron were interested in her, her feelings were toward another wizard whose name I was absolutely not supposed to mention. I hoped that Hermione would work everything out, but I had told her that this was one tangle of relationships that I was not getting involved in.
Fred was still incredulous. "Krum? I never would have figured him for a ladies' man."
"Most people wouldn't think you were one, either."
"Touché." Another kiss.
I leaned back against the side of the pool, my head resting on Fred's knee. "This is what it must have been like for ancient Roman witches," I said. "Lounging around all day and being fed my handsome male slaves. Except their slaves wore loincloths."
"Their slaves were also eunuchs, and if you think I'm going to do that, you're nuts." His fingers brushed my cheek. "I've missed you, Angelina."
"I haven't gone anywhere."
"You've been here, but your mind's been someplace else all week."
"It's been a long couple of days." But it was much better now. I was lying in a hot bath, covered in brightly colored bubbles that made the room smell like a jasmine bush, and my wonderful boyfriend was sitting behind me playing with my hair.
My hair had become an object of fascination for Fred since I had put it in braids. I didn't know what he found so enthralling about them.
"How do you do it?" he asked. "The braids, I mean. Is there a spell for it?"
"Of course. Do you think I'd sit there for hours putting each one in?" Was that how Muggles did it? I had seen Muggle girls with hair longer than mine wearing braids, and I couldn't imagine how long it must have taken them without magic. "Boys never understand how easy they have it. You don't have to learn half the spells we do."
"Are there a lot?" Fred asked. "I never really thought about it."
"Loads," I replied. "Ten or twenty just for hair. Things like Straightening Charms and Curling Charms and Plaiting Charms. Then there are Pressing Charms and stuff like that for clothing, and some girls use the Windswept Charm, but I've never been able to make that one work."
"But you don't need any magic," said Fred. "You're beautiful already."
I could feel my cheeks getting warm. I had thought that after almost three months, Fred's compliments would have stopped eliciting this reaction from me. I didn't mind it, though, since the warmth in my cheeks was always accompanied by a small smile on my face and followed by a kiss, as it was now.
Fred went back to playing with my hair. "Have you heard from your mum lately?"
"Nothing about you. I got a letter from her about a week ago, saying that Dara had met someone new at the latest party." Mum and Narcissa had thrown a three thousand-guest ball in honor of a new company Dad and Lucius were starting. "Fred, do you like your family?"
He was surprised by the question. "Well... yeah. I never really thought about it, though." He played with my braids in silence for a minute, then stopped and asked, "What's really the matter?"
I realized that Katie had not only told Fred where to find me, she had also told him about the way I had tossed Dad's letter in the fireplace and left the common room. I didn't blame her - that wasn't normal behavior by any stretch of the imagination. "My father scares me," I said quietly. "I don't know why; it's just a feeling I got reading his letter today. He kept mentioning Lucius -"
"Malfoy's dad?" Fred growled. He let loose with a barrage of expletives far more creative than the ones I used to describe Lucius, and I remembered once again that Fred knew nothing about the intricacies of the Johnson-Malfoy family.
I was aware that my family tree sounded like something from an episode of WWN's The Dark Castle- although if Dad had heard me say that, Evalinda del Rossi and the rest of the cast would very quickly have been looking for new employment. Mum's first husband, who was also Dara's father, had been Phelan Malfoy. Phelan was the oldest Malfoy son, and he, along with the rest of the family, had supported You-Know-Who. When Phelan was killed during an anti-Muggle raid, Mum had moved in with Lucius and Narcissa.
Within a month, she had found a new husband. Lloyd Johnson was a close friend of Lucius', and he was my father. Dara had his last name, but she let no one forget that she was half Malfoy, too.
Fred finished his list of abusive adjectives. "If my dad wrote to me about the Malfoys, it'd be something pretty bad."
"It's not like that." I had to tell him, I decided. I was tired of changing the topic every time my family and the Malfoys came up in conversation. "My family is - It's complicated, Fred."
"Complicated how?"
I gave Fred a simplified explanation of the intricacies of Johnson-Malfoy relationships, concluding with "And most of them were death eaters, back when we were born. I suppose that's one reason why they worry me - I've overheard Dad talking to Mum, reminiscing about Muggle killings and You-Know-Who's Nights of Terror."
"Did he write about You-Know-Who in the letter you got today?"
"No, he just mentioned that he and Lucius had gotten together to talk about "the good old days." He always seems so happy and - I don't know, excited when he talks about it." I looked at the empty portrait of Poseidon on the opposite wall. "I don't know why it scared me so much today. It's nothing I haven't heard before."
"You're tired today," said Fred, taking my hand. "But I'd be more worried if it didn't scare you. Talking about killing people is terrifying."
"I just don't want to turn out like them," I murmured, voicing a fear I had had since childhood.
"You're not defined by your family," Fred replied. "That's something I've learned from my brothers. They've figured it out already: Bill's got his earring to set him apart, Charlie's a musician, even though not many people know it, and Percy's trying to be the youngest Minister of Magic ever. They've all managed to step away from the Weasley stereotype."
"What about you?"
"George and I want to start our own company as soon as we graduate. Pretty soon we'll be outselling Zonko's. Don't worry, Angelina. Becoming a death eater isn't something that happens automatically, like growing taller." He looked me over - or tried to, since most of my body was hidden by bubbles. "For that, you can consider yourself lucky."
"Beast!" Fred didn't mind that I was two inches taller, but he never hesitated to remind me of it. I tried to throw a handful of bubbles at him, but I found that bubbles aren't easily thrown.
"This is the thanks I get for solving your problems?" Fred demanded.
"All right, you're brilliant, you've made me smile for the first time all day, and you're wonderful for not caring about my family. But when you tease me about being tall, you're still a beast."
"Give me a kiss and I can live with that." I did.
"What time is it?" Fred asked a minute later.
"I have no idea. Probably long after the time when we were all supposed to be in bed."
"We were supposed to be in bed hours ago. What on earth possessed you to take a bath so late?"
"I like to have the bathroom to myself."
Fred grinned. "Spoiled your plans, didn't I?"
"I'm glad you came." It was the second time in an hour that I had used that phrase, but I meant it. "You're right; we probably should go back. Pass me a towel."
Fred handed me one of the fluffy white towels and turned his back without being asked. I climbed out of the pool and dried off, shivering in the cold air. "What are you going to do about the tray?" I asked as I slipped my robes on.
"The house elves come up here to clean, so they can take it back down without anyone seeing." He went to the door. "Ready?" He opened it slowly, stuck his head out, and quickly pulled it back in. "It's Filch! Doesn't he ever sleep?"
"Maybe Snape makes a potion for that," I said. "Did he see you?"
"No. I just heard his footsteps. But why does he have to be here right now?" He made a face. "All we need is five bloody minutes. Getting caught setting off Dungbombs is one thing, but I can just imagine Mum's reaction if I was caught out of the tower at night - and in the girls' bathroom. She'd create a new kind of Howler just for me."
"Forget Howlers," I said. "I'm a little more worried about dismemberment, or maybe Azkaban. Mum could convince the dementors I that I deserve my own private cell." I let the feel of Fred's arm around my waist calm me down. "So what do we do?"
"We could stay here," Fred suggested.
"And when people see us walking out of here in the morning? We could learn just how fast gossip travels at Hogwarts."
"No one has to see us - that's the point. Filch should be asleep by five or six o'clock, and we can sneak back into the tower without anyone seeing us."
It was an appealing idea, not least because I was ready to fall asleep where I stood. "All right then," I said. The towels did look comfortable.
I lay down on top of one, and it was softer than my bed was. I knew I would have no trouble falling asleep, especially now that a very trying week had ended with a very nice night.
The Prefects' Bathroom
Sarah Rettger
Poseidon was not in his usual place on the wall, and I suspected that he had gone to visit the mermaid in the male prefects' bathroom. Most of the other girls, I thought, would gladly have joined him. When our bathroom was full, the conversation always turned to speculation on what Cedric Diggory and company might be doing a floor below us. That was one reason I preferred the pool when the rest of the girls were elsewhere.
Besides that, I liked to have a few minutes to myself once in a while. It was a relief to hear the sound of bubbles and water pouring out of the taps instead of "Angelina, I don't understand the Potions assignment" or "Angelina, I don't know what to do!"
Not that I minded helping Hermione, of course - Harry and Ron were her best friends, but anyone could see that they weren't the ones to advise her about Viktor Krum. I didn't know that my advice was much more valuable, though - I couldn't speak from experience, since I had never had an international Quidditch star invite me to visit him over the summer. Alicia had probably been more helpful; she had gone through her trunk and provided Hermione with a wide array of romantic heroines to serve as examples.
I wouldn't have minded some examples of my own. The past three or four days had just been one disaster after another - an Arithmancy test that I had forgotten to study for, Hypatia's broken wing, a note from Filch demanding to know why Gryffindor tower was full of canary feathers, several sleepless nights, and the like. The few times I had seen Fred outside of class, I had ended up snapping at him and running off to take care of something else.
My week had ended with a letter from Dad. Attila, Dad's great horned owl, had brought it to me at breakfast, since Hypatia still couldn't leave the owlery. I hadn't had time to read it until I had gotten back to the common room two hours before.
A large blue bubble drifting by my nose drew my mind back to the present. The bath was full, and the bubbles were starting to flow over the sides. I added a bit more red foam and turned off all the taps. Leaving my robes neatly folded on the side of the pool, I climbed in.
Had the prefects' bathrooms always existed, I wondered, or had they been put in later? I was grateful to whoever was responsible. After Quidditch practices the year before, a hot bath had always relaxed me, especially when I had been bruised by a stray Bludger or two. There was no Quidditch this year, but I had found no less need for time alone in the bath.
Since the Yule Ball, I had learned just how hard it was to find time alone anywhere at Hogwarts. While I knew that Draco wasn't actually spying on me, I also knew that anything he saw would eventually get back to Mum via Narcissa.
Even though publicly, nothing had changed about my relationship with Fred - only Lee, George, Alicia, Katie, and Hermione knew - I still felt a twinge of panic every time Atilla brought mail from Mum and Dad. A Howler wasn't Mum's style - if she found out about Fred, I'd get a letter hinting very quietly at what would await me at home. Today's letter, at least, had contained none of that.
Fred understood the need for secrecy perfectly. I didn't know how he did it - from what he said, his mother was the most wonderful woman in the world, certainly not the type to threaten him with the Imperius Curse if he disobeyed her. I didn't like what-ifs, but sometimes I couldn't help wondering how life might have been different with Mrs. Weasley for a mother.
I heard the bathroom door open, and I sighed. I had deliberately waited until almost midnight to take a bath because I was sure that everyone else would be done. I had no desire to see any of the other prefects at the moment. I just hoped it wasn't Victoria Fawcett who was disturbing my peace - my patience was gone, and if she started another diatribe about how lucky she was that Derek had finally discovered her, I might use the opportunity to practice the new hexes we were learning in Charms.
There were footsteps coming around the corner, but I still couldn't see who it was.
"I hope you appreciate this, Angelina. I nearly dropped this tray when I had to run from Filch."
"Fred!" I didn't know what surprised me more: the fact that Fred had just let himself into the female prefects' bathroom, which was strictly off-limits (I had let Katie in once, but there had been good reason), or that he had brought a silver tray laden with a variety of fruits and sweets. "What are you doing here?" I finally asked.
"I've hardly seen you in three days," said Fred, settling himself on the side of the pool and offering me a grape. "You've been so busy. Katie said you were probably in here."
I lifted one hand out of the water and took the grape. "But how did you get in here? And where did you get the food?"
Fred kissed me before answering. "The food is courtesy of the house elves, who all hope that you are in a better mood soon. As for getting in here, George and I made a useful discovery during our third year. No matter what the official password is, the door will always open for "Neptune's beard.""
"And just how many times have you tried this?" I asked laughing.
The tips of Fred's ear went slightly pink. "Once or twice," he said. "We tried to spy on Percy's girlfriend last year, but we almost got caught. This is the first time I've brought food, though."
I took another grape from the tray. "I'm glad you came." I was thrilled to finally have some time alone with Fred, but I had to admit that I had never imagined talking to him while I was covered only by a layer of rainbow-colored bubbles. It reminded me of a scene Alicia had read to me from The Amorus Charm.
Fred looked around the bathroom. Definitely nicer than ours," he said approvingly. "I can't imagine not having to step over someone else's dirty robes to get to the door."
Having heard enough stories about the sixth year Gryffindor boys' dormitory, I had no trouble imagining what their bathroom looked like. Deciding that I didn't really want to know more about the subject, I said nothing.
Fred was now amusing himself with the bubbles that floated away every time I moved. "I didn't realize you were so easily amused," I said. "You don't strike me as the kind of person who'd be content to sit and play with bubbles for the rest of your life."
"Not at all," Fred replied. "I was just thinking about our latest invention: Belching Bubbles. If you mix them with the Pepper Powder George made last month, you can make someone breathe fire." His eyes sparkled with delight.
"Just what I need to do - explain to Filch why there are scorch marks on all the armchairs in the common room." Even thought I knew that I, as a prefect, would be responsible for whatever went wrong, I couldn't help laughing at the thought of Neville breathing fire.
"We'll make sure everyone uses it outside," said Fred good-naturedly. "No, I've got a better idea. We'll feed it to the skrewts and see if they get any worse." He dropped a strawberry into his mouth. "Hey, what's going on with Hermione? Is that story about her and Krum true?"
I sighed. "She's not cheating on Harry, if that's what you mean. But Krum did ask her to visit him over the summer, and she doesn't know what to do about it."
"I'd think she'd be head over heels for him."
"She's not. I promised I wouldn't say anything, though." Hermione had sworn me to secrecy before confessing that while she was aware that both Krum and Ron were interested in her, her feelings were toward another wizard whose name I was absolutely not supposed to mention. I hoped that Hermione would work everything out, but I had told her that this was one tangle of relationships that I was not getting involved in.
Fred was still incredulous. "Krum? I never would have figured him for a ladies' man."
"Most people wouldn't think you were one, either."
"Touché." Another kiss.
I leaned back against the side of the pool, my head resting on Fred's knee. "This is what it must have been like for ancient Roman witches," I said. "Lounging around all day and being fed my handsome male slaves. Except their slaves wore loincloths."
"Their slaves were also eunuchs, and if you think I'm going to do that, you're nuts." His fingers brushed my cheek. "I've missed you, Angelina."
"I haven't gone anywhere."
"You've been here, but your mind's been someplace else all week."
"It's been a long couple of days." But it was much better now. I was lying in a hot bath, covered in brightly colored bubbles that made the room smell like a jasmine bush, and my wonderful boyfriend was sitting behind me playing with my hair.
My hair had become an object of fascination for Fred since I had put it in braids. I didn't know what he found so enthralling about them.
"How do you do it?" he asked. "The braids, I mean. Is there a spell for it?"
"Of course. Do you think I'd sit there for hours putting each one in?" Was that how Muggles did it? I had seen Muggle girls with hair longer than mine wearing braids, and I couldn't imagine how long it must have taken them without magic. "Boys never understand how easy they have it. You don't have to learn half the spells we do."
"Are there a lot?" Fred asked. "I never really thought about it."
"Loads," I replied. "Ten or twenty just for hair. Things like Straightening Charms and Curling Charms and Plaiting Charms. Then there are Pressing Charms and stuff like that for clothing, and some girls use the Windswept Charm, but I've never been able to make that one work."
"But you don't need any magic," said Fred. "You're beautiful already."
I could feel my cheeks getting warm. I had thought that after almost three months, Fred's compliments would have stopped eliciting this reaction from me. I didn't mind it, though, since the warmth in my cheeks was always accompanied by a small smile on my face and followed by a kiss, as it was now.
Fred went back to playing with my hair. "Have you heard from your mum lately?"
"Nothing about you. I got a letter from her about a week ago, saying that Dara had met someone new at the latest party." Mum and Narcissa had thrown a three thousand-guest ball in honor of a new company Dad and Lucius were starting. "Fred, do you like your family?"
He was surprised by the question. "Well... yeah. I never really thought about it, though." He played with my braids in silence for a minute, then stopped and asked, "What's really the matter?"
I realized that Katie had not only told Fred where to find me, she had also told him about the way I had tossed Dad's letter in the fireplace and left the common room. I didn't blame her - that wasn't normal behavior by any stretch of the imagination. "My father scares me," I said quietly. "I don't know why; it's just a feeling I got reading his letter today. He kept mentioning Lucius -"
"Malfoy's dad?" Fred growled. He let loose with a barrage of expletives far more creative than the ones I used to describe Lucius, and I remembered once again that Fred knew nothing about the intricacies of the Johnson-Malfoy family.
I was aware that my family tree sounded like something from an episode of WWN's The Dark Castle- although if Dad had heard me say that, Evalinda del Rossi and the rest of the cast would very quickly have been looking for new employment. Mum's first husband, who was also Dara's father, had been Phelan Malfoy. Phelan was the oldest Malfoy son, and he, along with the rest of the family, had supported You-Know-Who. When Phelan was killed during an anti-Muggle raid, Mum had moved in with Lucius and Narcissa.
Within a month, she had found a new husband. Lloyd Johnson was a close friend of Lucius', and he was my father. Dara had his last name, but she let no one forget that she was half Malfoy, too.
Fred finished his list of abusive adjectives. "If my dad wrote to me about the Malfoys, it'd be something pretty bad."
"It's not like that." I had to tell him, I decided. I was tired of changing the topic every time my family and the Malfoys came up in conversation. "My family is - It's complicated, Fred."
"Complicated how?"
I gave Fred a simplified explanation of the intricacies of Johnson-Malfoy relationships, concluding with "And most of them were death eaters, back when we were born. I suppose that's one reason why they worry me - I've overheard Dad talking to Mum, reminiscing about Muggle killings and You-Know-Who's Nights of Terror."
"Did he write about You-Know-Who in the letter you got today?"
"No, he just mentioned that he and Lucius had gotten together to talk about "the good old days." He always seems so happy and - I don't know, excited when he talks about it." I looked at the empty portrait of Poseidon on the opposite wall. "I don't know why it scared me so much today. It's nothing I haven't heard before."
"You're tired today," said Fred, taking my hand. "But I'd be more worried if it didn't scare you. Talking about killing people is terrifying."
"I just don't want to turn out like them," I murmured, voicing a fear I had had since childhood.
"You're not defined by your family," Fred replied. "That's something I've learned from my brothers. They've figured it out already: Bill's got his earring to set him apart, Charlie's a musician, even though not many people know it, and Percy's trying to be the youngest Minister of Magic ever. They've all managed to step away from the Weasley stereotype."
"What about you?"
"George and I want to start our own company as soon as we graduate. Pretty soon we'll be outselling Zonko's. Don't worry, Angelina. Becoming a death eater isn't something that happens automatically, like growing taller." He looked me over - or tried to, since most of my body was hidden by bubbles. "For that, you can consider yourself lucky."
"Beast!" Fred didn't mind that I was two inches taller, but he never hesitated to remind me of it. I tried to throw a handful of bubbles at him, but I found that bubbles aren't easily thrown.
"This is the thanks I get for solving your problems?" Fred demanded.
"All right, you're brilliant, you've made me smile for the first time all day, and you're wonderful for not caring about my family. But when you tease me about being tall, you're still a beast."
"Give me a kiss and I can live with that." I did.
"What time is it?" Fred asked a minute later.
"I have no idea. Probably long after the time when we were all supposed to be in bed."
"We were supposed to be in bed hours ago. What on earth possessed you to take a bath so late?"
"I like to have the bathroom to myself."
Fred grinned. "Spoiled your plans, didn't I?"
"I'm glad you came." It was the second time in an hour that I had used that phrase, but I meant it. "You're right; we probably should go back. Pass me a towel."
Fred handed me one of the fluffy white towels and turned his back without being asked. I climbed out of the pool and dried off, shivering in the cold air. "What are you going to do about the tray?" I asked as I slipped my robes on.
"The house elves come up here to clean, so they can take it back down without anyone seeing." He went to the door. "Ready?" He opened it slowly, stuck his head out, and quickly pulled it back in. "It's Filch! Doesn't he ever sleep?"
"Maybe Snape makes a potion for that," I said. "Did he see you?"
"No. I just heard his footsteps. But why does he have to be here right now?" He made a face. "All we need is five bloody minutes. Getting caught setting off Dungbombs is one thing, but I can just imagine Mum's reaction if I was caught out of the tower at night - and in the girls' bathroom. She'd create a new kind of Howler just for me."
"Forget Howlers," I said. "I'm a little more worried about dismemberment, or maybe Azkaban. Mum could convince the dementors I that I deserve my own private cell." I let the feel of Fred's arm around my waist calm me down. "So what do we do?"
"We could stay here," Fred suggested.
"And when people see us walking out of here in the morning? We could learn just how fast gossip travels at Hogwarts."
"No one has to see us - that's the point. Filch should be asleep by five or six o'clock, and we can sneak back into the tower without anyone seeing us."
It was an appealing idea, not least because I was ready to fall asleep where I stood. "All right then," I said. The towels did look comfortable.
I lay down on top of one, and it was softer than my bed was. I knew I would have no trouble falling asleep, especially now that a very trying week had ended with a very nice night.