It is a cold, clear night. The trees, the lake, the turrets and towers of Hogwarts, have all been carved out by the moon's silver knife.
Viktor stands at his porthole looking out at the lake. A slight breeze ruffles the inky surface of the water like an affectionate uncle, cautious not to push too hard. If he was out there, Viktor would dive deep into that water, letting it close around him, tearing his breath from his lungs with the shock of it.
He looks down at a scrap of paper on his nightstand. pine fresh, it says, in his own messy handwriting. Malfoy had cupped his pale spidery hands around Viktor's ear and whispered it almost salaciously, as though it was a secret of much greater interest. Viktor hadn't planned to visit that bathroom. It just seemed so unnecessary. Malfoy's endorsement didn't speak well of it, either.
But.
Viktor could use the distraction.
He decides to trade the fantasy of electric cold water for scalding, seaweed for bubble bath. It's so indulgent he almost can't stand it - he doesn't allow himself many indulgences - but it might help screw his head back on the right way. He remembers taking bubble baths with his mamo, listening to her sing little lullabies as she soaped his hair.
For you, Mamo, Viktor thinks. He looks around the room, making sure it's in order, before walking out into the narrow ship hallway. The door makes a pleasant little snick as he shuts it behind him.
He curses as he emerges from the hallway onto the deck of the ship. He'd left his furs in his room, preferring not to risk getting them wet, and the wind whips through his coat as if it were his silk shirt. He takes out his wand and casts a bubble of warmth around him. Even with the charm, he walks up to the castle as quickly as possible. It's a fair ways to walk in the night, everything lit up a silvery blue by the moon. He looks straight ahead and avoids the temptation to look over his shoulder for ghosts.
The castle is just as empty. It's just past ten, curfew, and all the students are tucked up warm in their dormitories. It's odd to walk the halls of a school at night without the familiar comfort of teachers, other students, the bustle of ordinary life. Even the paintings are asleep. Viktor takes out his wand again and casts Lumos. It's more about having something comforting to hold than the light, though the light helps, too.
The prefects' bathroom is even more of a relief after the creepy lonely walk than Viktor thinks it would have been. Soft orange torchlight falls over the paintings and stained glass windows, the stack of fluffy white towels, the gems in the handles of all the taps. Viktor just drinks it all in for a moment.
He turns on the taps and watches the tub fill as he takes off his coat, shirt, trousers, socks and boots. He lies on his stomach at the edge of the tub. There's a delicious contrast between the warm air enveloping him and the cold seeping into his torso from the marble floor. When the tub is full, Viktor drops his briefs onto the pile of clothes and slips off the edge of the tub into the water. He can't help sighing as the warmth rushes around him like a hug.
It takes ten minutes to swim around to each of the taps and try them out. His favourite is a tap that spews fist-sized bubbles the colour of an early morning sky. They fill the bathroom with the clean scent of a salty sea breeze. He gets fully absorbed in sniffing the bubbles, eyes closed, floating. For a second he is nowhere, nowhen, and the only thing that matters is warmth and love and salt and his mamo.
Cold castle air comes whistling into the room.
Viktor flounders a bit as he comes back to himself. He pops his head up to look, wiping torrents of water from his eyes. It's the Hogwarts champion, not Hermione's friend - Cedric? Viktor swims to the further end of the pool to give him space, though perhaps it's less about Cedric than it is about Viktor himself.
"Oh-I didn't-er. I'll just go then-?" Cedric's voice echoes in the cavernous stone room.
"No, no, it's fine." Viktor busies himself with the sea-blue bubbles.
Cedric looks over at him as he hovers in the doorway. "Oh, it's you!"
"Yes, it is me," Viktor offers, wondering what Cedric means. He isn't going to ask about Quidditch, is he? After the day Viktor's had, answering the questions he's answered a million times before-
Cedric glances over his shoulder at the door. "Okay." He grabs one of the towels, hesitates, turns to the wall to strip.
After the towel's safely wrapped around his waist, Cedric turns back to Viktor. "Hey, er, you're not a prefect. How did you get in?" He must misinterpret Viktor's surprise, because he quickly adds, "I don't mind!"
"I did not know this vas for prefects - those are the ones vith the badges?" Viktor asks. An apology squirms just under his skin, but Cedric said it was okay… "Malfoy gave me the passvord."
"He's not a prefect, is he?" Cedric's at the edge of the bath now, frowning, the hand holding up his towel propped on his hip.
Viktor closes his eyes to think back to the last time he saw Malfoy. If Malfoy had one of the badges, there was no doubt in Viktor's mind that it would be prominently displayed on his chest. "No, I don't think so."
"Mm." Cedric frowns into the middle distance. He refocuses his gaze on Viktor, eyes slightly narrowed. "You're not mates with him, are you?"
"Malfoy? No!" Viktor wants to laugh, but it gets caught in his throat. "No. He just...vat is it you say? He likes to 'butter me up.'"
Cedric laughs at that, shakes his head a little. "Yeah, that sounds like him. Little weasel."
They lapse into silence. Eventually Cedric, still by the edge of the pool, clears his throat pointedly. When Viktor doesn't react, Cedric jerks his head at the tub.
Oh, yes, English prudery! Viktor had forgotten. Bulgarians aren't particularly fussed about nudity, Scandinavians even less so. Viktor had fallen into the habit of going to Durmstrang's sauna at least once a week with his classmates. He rather missed it since being in Scotland. It isn't necessarily the sweating itself, more the contemplative time spent with friends, the rhythm of ritual.
Viktor busies himself while Cedric gets in by trying to pop one of the bubbles. It doesn't burst, even when he stabs it with a finger, so he picks it up and squeezes it until it explodes with a bang! Viktor ducks underwater to wash the soap shrapnel from his eyes.
When he reemerges, slicking back his hair, Cedric has settled about halfway down the length of the tub from Viktor. It isn't entirely clear to Viktor whether or not their interaction is over. It could go either way, probably, but if Viktor chooses wrong it could all come crashing down. At least puzzling over it distracts him from his existential melancholy. When nothing happens with Cedric, Viktor leans over the lip of the tub to grab his wand.
"Accio coin," he murmurs, holding up a hand to catch a knut before it smacks him in the face. Such point-blank magic is a little silly, but he doesn't want to sort through his clothes with wet hands. He transfigures the coin into a rubber duck. That done, he sets it on the water, where it bobs peacefully amongst the big blue bubbles. Good. He can focus on that instead of on the Cedric puzzle.
"Oh, that's a good idea!" Cedric whispers. It seems like he's talking to himself, but the water and the room magnify his voice, and just in case…
"Vat did you say?"
"Oh, I was just - talking to myself," Cedric mumbles. He clears his throat, opens his mouth as if to speak, but says nothing. He picks up a soap bubble and turns it into a pale pink ducky.
Viktor looks down at his duck. He wants desperately to say something, anything; there's a tiny little sprout of a plant between them, and Viktor would love to see it grow into a big green plant. Cedric's treating him like a normal person; it's awkward not because Viktor's famous but because, well, because they're in a giant bathtub together and they don't know what to say.
He's too busy planning his opening line to hear the little plastic squeak of protest from the ducky clenched in both his hands. He will triumph over his traitorous locked jaw and his queasy whirly stomach, he will! He double-checks, triple-checks his English, word by word.
Okay. Here goes.
Say it in pet, chetiri, tri, dve…Pet, chetiri, tri, dve, edno…Pet. Chetiri. Tri. DVE. EDNO. Now! Now!
Speaking takes such effort that Viktor trips over the very first syllable. "D-do you come here often?"
And Cedric bursts into laughter.
It morphs from self-conscious chuckles into a genuine, deep laughter, and Viktor can't help laughing too. He doesn't know what's funny, but he's laughing, and Cedric is laughing, and it's the very end of a very long day.
"I'm sorry, I shouldn't - I know you're still learning English," Cedric manages eventually. He hiccups out another laugh, wipes his eyes with soapy wet hands. "It's just - did you know that that's a chat up line?"
"I don't know this. Vat is a chat up line?" Viktor says chat up line as though he's picking each word up and looking at it carefully before saying the next.
"Er - something you say to someone to...to get them to go home with you?" Cedric explains haltingly. "Like - 'are you a parking ticket? Because you've got 'fine' written all over you.'" He looks at Viktor's knitted eyebrows. "Because fine, like you have to pay money for parking badly? And fine, like attractive."
"Ahh. Do these...vork? To get people to come home with you?"
"No. No, I don't reckon so." Cedric laughs. "And 'do you come here often' is a classic."
"Vhy?"
"That's a very good question." Cedric swims a little closer to Viktor. The torchlight shines off his blond head, hair not yet wet. "I don't come here much. It seems a bit excessive, doesn't it? But it's nice to have a bit of a relax once in a while."
Viktor nods. "I did not think I vould come here, but...it is very nice." He watches the rubber ducky drift through its vast foamy ocean. "I like the bubbles."
"D'you mind if I-?" Cedric asks, gesturing at one of the taps. Viktor shakes his head. Cedric turns the tap. Lavender scented foam streams from it, forming a comforting blanket over the surface of the water.
Viktor wrinkles his nose at the combination of lavender and salt.
"It's not the nicest, is it?" Cedric laughs. He dunks his head underwater and comes up with water streaming from him. He reaches for a bottle of shampoo.
"I forgot that this is a bath," Viktor murmurs to himself. He has to swim over to Cedric to get a bottle of shampoo. Once he has the shampoo, he swims a few feet away from Cedric, to maintain a polite distance. Viktor runs his fingers through his hair, rubbing in the shampoo.
It's quiet. The mermaid in her golden frame snores gently, long hair falling over her face and chest. Cedric runs his hands over the surface of the lavender bubble quilt. Viktor slips under the water to rinse his hair.
"So, you're out late." Cedric's voice rings out slightly too loud, startling them both. "Sorry, that was louder than I meant!"
"So are you." Viktor cocks his head, dark eyes glittering in the honeyed light. "Your curfew is at ten?"
"How did you know that? Oh, Hermione, I bet." Cedric winks.
Viktor clears his throat. "Yes. You know Hermione? But you are not in her year, no?"
"Everyone knows Hermione. If they didn't know her already for her spellwork, they definitely found out who she was after the Ball!"
Viktor nods to himself. It isn't as though he hasn't caught snippets of jealous conversation about her before, and he'd seen the article in Witch Weekly. He'd sat with her one night as she healed the injuries she'd sustained from opening hate mail. He'd massaged her hands and thrown each of the letters into the fireplace. He can't help feeling as though it is his fault she's been in such a spotlight.
"Sorry - maybe - listen, it's mostly good stuff, you know." Cedric flounders as he searches for an example. "Well, the professors are always saying she's the best witch of our age."
Viktor grins, making the corners of his eyes crinkle. "She is."
Cedric grins back. In the lull, Viktor swims nearer to retrieve body wash and soaps his pits.
"Is this - normal? Does everyone at Hogvarts take baths all the time?"
Cedric laughs. "No. We usually take showers. This is just for fun, I think. Most of the prefects don't use it."
"But you do?"
Cedric wobbles his head from side to side.
"Sometimes. When I need to think, and my other thinking spots aren't helping."
Viktor quashes his impulse to apologise and leave Cedric alone to think. He's doing okay at this conversation thing and Cedric seems happy. Otherwise he would have said something, right?
"I vould like a thinking spot," Viktor says.
"I like the astronomy tower. If you go out onto the top there's a hidden ladder that lets you onto the roof of the castle."
There's little in the world Viktor likes more than being high up in the sky. "Oh, that sounds very nice!"
Cedric nods. "It's one of my favourites." He stretches his arms above his head, making one of his shoulders pop. "Well - it's late, I should be going. It was nice to - well, not meet you, I've already met you. Talk to you." He smiles.
"You too. Cedric." Viktor smiles back. He looks down at the surface of the water to give Cedric space to get out of the tub. There are quiet rustling sounds, and when he looks up again, Cedric is back in black robes and a loosely knotted yellow tie.
"'Night!"
"Goodnight!" Viktor says. He waits until the door shuts heavily behind Cedric before getting out of the tub. He realises as he gets out that the water never got any colder, and the chill night air is a shock to his pruney water-warmed skin. Viktor casts a warming spell and walks back to his boat to settle in for bed.
The little ball of warm golden friendship in Viktor's chest lingers much longer than the mingled scents of lavender and sea salt.