Chapter 3

The worn floorboards creaked under Harry's bare feet. Carefully he made his way hall, trying to remember exactly where the room of bath was located. After checking the first three doors he opened the forth to see a fluffy blue towel and a fluffy blue washcloth neatly laid out on the counter. He opened the shower curtain and adjusted the water temperature. Once he found that perfect level of warmth, the kind that warms you to the bone but doesn't make you uncomfortable, he began to strip down. As he stepped under the gentle flow of water, he felt like years of terrible things were washing off. The tender kiss of such a pure substance made his heavy burden lighter. For five minutes he stood there, letting the water caress his body. Eventually he realized that he had to get whatever help Ginny had to offer. After all, he couldn't stay in the shower for his whole life no matter how tempting.

Harry reached for a little white bar of soap and his fluffy blue washcloth. He scrubbed himself until his skin was rubbed raw and red, trying to get every speck of physical and emotional dirt that he had accumulated. Grabbing a bottle of shampoo, he smelled it to see if it was of the masculine persuasion. It wasn't. It smelt of sweet things, happiness and roses. Reluctantly, he put the shampoo back and grabbed the blue bottle. After a totally blissful one hour, Harry got out of the shower feeling much better.

The towel was warm and smelled fresh. Vigorously, he dried himself off and reached for his clothes. He picked up his shirt and began to put it on, but then he drew back in disgust. The smell emanating from his clothes was that of something very dead. Harry did the only thing one could do in such a situation. He threw them in the trash. The smell was beginning to permeate the room. Hastily he tightened his towel around his waist and rushed out into the hall.

Hurriedly, Harry raced towards Ron's room. He knew there must be something fresh to wear in Ron's room. Bam! He ran into something solid, and almost lost his towel.

"There you are. I was wondering where you went." Ginny said with her hands on her hips. She seemed not to notice that Harry was mostly naked, but she did.

Harry on the other hand blushed ferociously from head to foot. "I…um…need to get some clothes…" He quickly scooted around her. Feeling stupid, Harry continued to Ron's room.

Ron's room hadn't changed at all, at least at first glance. Harry took in the familiar sight and noticed a few changes. There were books. Not comic books or even schoolbooks. There were thick books, nonfiction, fiction, prose and poetry. All books he had only seen with one person. Hermione.

Harry spotted his trunk under a pile of particularly brightly colored books. He began to gently set them aside in a neat pile when something caused him to yell in horror and disgust.

Ginny rushed into Ron's room, her footsteps reverberated through the empty house. She burst through the door. There stands Harry in his towel, rigidly still, his mouth open and a look of pure terror on his face.

"What happened? What's wrong?" Ginny was frantic with worry.

Slowly he raised his arm and shakily pointed at his trunk. Ginny's eyes followed his finger. They rested on the offending 'thing' on Harry's trunk. Then while Harry was still doing a very good impression of Monk's "The Scream" Ginny began laughing like a very silly person. When she regained her composure, she slapped Harry for the second time that day. The pain brought Harry out of his reverie.

"You scared the shit out of me! I thought Old Moldy was back or something!" Ginny continued to pummel Harry.

"Stop that!" he whined, "That scared the shit out of me!" He reinforced his pointing.

Ginny picked up the offending object. "It's a bra."

"I know!" Harry still sounded scandalized.

"Well, I figured that I would clear that up since you act like you've never seen one." Harry glared at her and blushed.

"The question is: what is it doing here?" Ginny just smacked her forehead and walked out.

"But…why…" Harry's eyes widened as realization hit him like an acme anvil.

A/N: What? No reviews? I'm so ashamed!