Title: Kiss.

Author: AspergianStoryteller.

Genre: Supernatural/General.

Summary: When a dementor tried to Kiss Harry Potter, it got more than it bargained for. And Harry did not walk away unaffected. Don't own Harry Potter.

Edit: Harry didn't sample the roast snake.

Chapter 30: Bathroom.

There might even be a party he could sneak out during.

Okay! Tomorrow night it was!

Sunday late-afternoon was spent on last minute preparation for that night's feast. Rather than spend lots of money on new clothes, students were encouraged to make a project of making their costumes. Indeed it was a project; the teachers would be awarding points for shrinking, growing, cutting, colouring, charming and transfiguring various things into clothes – extra points for ingenuity, creativity and cultural accuracy.

Ron had opted to dress as a muggle, so Harry had lent him his best muggle jeans, sneakers, t-shirt and a hoody to modify for the night. Ron had to stretch and lengthen every item and turned the hoody blue.

Hermione had already finished her blue and white, lacy French robes and was now in the boys' dorm helping Neville with an old-fashioned, green set of robes worn by Italian gardeners. Over by their beds, Seamus was having his face painted by Dean, in the colours of his favourite muggle football team. Dean was decked out in a Spanish wizard's robe. It had feathers. Harry had decided to transform one of his school robes into a Japanese kimono.* A scarf was turned into an green obi* and Hermione's sandals into geta.* He'd used a shoe lace to tie his hair in a top-knot.

'Eeyah! Kufanya nija kwa ajili ya kabila!'(2) The door burst open and a blur of feathers, paint and bare skin raced through the room, jumping on and over beds. Harry caught a glimpse of what appeared to be Fred, George and several first years dressed in tribal outfits from different countries (George was actually wearing old-fashioned Dutch clothes and clogs[3]), and they were all shrieking some kind of war cry. When they'd rushed out again to invade the dorm next-door, the fourth-year boys and Hermione resumed their work, bemused.

'Ah,' Seamus said, 'I wonder if McGonagall ever regrets allowing the older students to help the youngest.'

'I can't wait to see that lot in the Great Hall,' Ron grinned. 'Do you remember when they came out dressed up like Asian hookers?'

'Geisha,' Hermione corrected. She blushed.

'How about last year then,' Ron asked, 'They got you to dress up as an Egyptian princess and we were all your slaves.'

Hermione went redder. Oh she remembered alright...

'Make way, commoners! Make way for Princess Hermione!'

'Your Highness, may we kiss your regal feet?'

'My Princess, please allow this lowly slave to carry you to your seat!'

'Harry, remember our second year? They made you a snake charmer and the other kids were so scared of you. It was awesome!'

It was actually kind of funny. Fred and George had really cheered a lonely Harry up that night by making the parsletongue issue into something they could all be silly about.

'Fred! George! Out!'

'Attack! Attack!'

Down in the Great Hall, the long tables were split into a number of smaller ones, each covered in a variety of foreign food, and everyone was expected to wander around picking what they liked. Harry, Ron and Hermione walked together with their plates and were soon joined by Neville and Ginny (in green robes, shamrocks and a cool top hat). Ginny brought a friend with her, Luna Lovegood of Ravenclaw. Luna had pale skin, wide, light eyes that always seemed to look surprised - despite her dreamy expression, and pale blond hair. She was wearing light-blue Chinese robes with home-made talismans hanging from anywhere.

'Guys, these are escargots,' Hermione pointed out a plate of snails on a table they stopped by.

'Ew,' Ron shuddered. 'Are those?...'

'Snails? Yes. They're a French delicacy.' But she didn't take one. Instead Hermione took a curved croissant and stuffed it with meat and salad.

Harry carefully put a bent thing in yellow sauce in his mouth. Mm, not bad. Where had he seen this before?

Neville looked at him in horror.

'What?'

'Harry,' Neville winced, 'That's a frog leg you're eating.'

Harry made a face. 'Oh. Well it's not so bad. No offence to Trevor, Nev.'

When they got to the Italian table everyone got a helping of pizza and spaghetti. There was a halt to let the line of the twins' tribe go past, then it was on to the Scottish table. None of them touched the haggis.

At the Bulgarian table, Hermione picked kebapcheta (grilled mincemeat and spice shaped like a sausages) and insisted the rest of them try something. Harry thought the kyufteta (spicy meat hamburgers) looked good. Luna got that, and was also happy to munch on sticks of fried dough filled with cheese called piroshka. (Every plate of food came with a name tag.)

At the Japanese table, Harry was told that he had to try something because his costume was Japanese. He tried sushi rolls, green tea (sencha), okonomiyaki (as-you-like-it-pancake), fried octopus – which wasn't as weird as it looked, red bean-paste, ramen (a noodle dish), little flavoured sticks called pocky, rice balls, (oni giri sounded like some kind of Japanese spell, or something from a cartoon, or maybe it was a karate thing?) grilled chicken on skewers and wound up with a few new things on his plate. Ron tried a green thing called wasabi and spat it out immediately.

On their way to the Chinese table, they saw Cho and Cedric - both in Chinese robes. The older students stayed with them as they visited the Chinese table, (the meat there was rather sweet), the Thai table (sweet and sour), and the Indian table (Harry had made Indian dishes a couple of times at the Dursleys).

Luna talked about some very odd sounding foods she'd had while looking for odd sounding creatures.

Here, Cedric and Cho went on to the French table. Ron and Hermione returned to the Bulgarian table and Harry stayed with Neville, Ginny and Luna. They entered the American continents area and tried foods with bugs in them and American muggle McDonalds. Harry had never had McDonalds before. It was delicious. He had had bugs though - some of the times Dudley's gang had been able to catch him... The properly cooked ones tasted better. One table actually had a roast snake dish. Considering he could speak to snakes, Harry didn't have any.

At the opposite end of the hall, representing the other side of the world, the New Zealand table had typical Kiwi dishes beside traditional Maori hangi – food roasted in an underground pit filled with heated stones.

'I recommend the paua,' Professor Dumbledore said, pointing to a plate of shell-fish. He was wearing a robe of Celtic origin. It was dark green, and the Celtic knots embroidered on were gold-yellow. 'They do taste good, and anyone who wishes to take a shell may do so.' The paua shells, next to the plate where ovular things with a shiny blue-greeny-pinkish interior.

'The hangi-cooked kumara is also very tasty,' Dumbledore continued. 'It's rather like pumpkin, actually. I wouldn't mind trying it out in a juice. Are you all enjoying yourselves this evening?'

'Yes Professor,' Harry said after he'd swallowed a mouthful of whitebait fritter. Mm, he should put more of that on his plate. 'Hey, Professor?'

'Yes?'

Harry piled more fritter onto his plate. 'Where can I get the recipes for some of this stuff?' Cooking wasn't so bad. Especially when it was appreciated. One time, Uncle Vernon had actually given him a compliment. Well, close enough. Besides, the more Harry cooked, the more he ate, there would be somethings besides greasy, fatty food or tiny servings of vegetables on the table and the tensions between him and the Dursleys were at a their most minimum.

Professor Dumbledore smiled. 'If you come to see during breakfast tomorrow I can provide you with as many recipes as you'd like.'

A bit later, Harry and his group rejoined Ron and Hermione at the Mexican table and enjoyed enchiladas together.

The rest of the evening was really fun. Though he did speak to the other champions when he saw them, and the excursion he planned was drawing near, Harry felt like this Culture Week feast was just like a regular school event with no pressure. Just costumes, tasty food and friends. Some of the best things in the world.

Speaking of food, there was desert! All the tables were now covered in exotic desert dishes. Harry and his friends made another round to fill the little space they had left in their stomachs. Sugar plums and Italian ice-cream were the favourites.(4) When they reached the New Zealand table a second time, Draco Malfoy was there instead of Dumbledore, helping himself to the pavlova. With amusement, Harry noticed that the Slytherin boy's white Arabian robes with green jewels looked rather like the pavlova.

Harry decided he'd better get the desert recipes too.

Come eleven (the third-years and below had already been sent to bed), Professor Dumbledore called for everyone's attention.

'Thank you for your excellent behaviour this evening. I hope you have all enjoyed Culture Week and the wonderful feast produced by our kitchen staff. They out-do themselves every year. But now it is time for bed.' He smiled at the disappointed faces and groans displayed by students wanting to stay up later, or keep eating.

'If anyone has overindulged on this delicious food, Madam Pomfrey has stomach-ache-relief potions with her. Otherwise, please return to your dormitories for a good night's sleep. You all have class tomorrow.'

There was more groaning. Ugh, classes.

XXX xxx XXX

Ah, here was Boris the Bewildered. Harry leaned in close to the lost-looking wizard and murmured,

'Pine fresh.'

The door creaked open and Harry slipped into and locked the door. Then he pulled off the invisibility cloak and looked around.

Whoa. Chandelier, white marble, swimming-pool-bath. A hundred gold taps with jewelled tops. A diving board. Large windows covered by white, linen curtains. Fluffy towels and painting of a sleeping mermaid.

Nice. It would good to be a Prefect just to get to use this bathroom!

Harry placed the cloak, egg and Marauder's Map carefully on the floor and walked further in to look around. How was this place supposed to help him solve the clue? He hoped Cedric wasn't pulling his leg.

Still, may as well give it a go. Oh wow! Now those were some taps! Each one poured out something different. There was big pink and white bubble, solid looking foam, perfumed purple bubbles... Harry had fun turning taps on and off, especially the one where jets of water bounced off the surface and tub walls in arcs. There was even a kind of bubble you could sit on or squeeze into as it floated.(5) He got a bird's eye view of the whole room from inside one, though it appeared slightly warped. The bubble could be steered by leaning in whatever direction you wanted to float. It was easy to start spinning and more than once, the bathroom became a blur of white tile and coloured soap to Harry. At one point, he drifted underwater. It was difficult to stay under though, because the bubble was lighter than the water.

He pushed himself out when he got near the curtains. Behind them, Harry discovered a view of the surrounding mountains; lumpy, looming shapes in the dark.

'Cool...'

Soon, the bath was full of hot water and bubbles. Harry stripped of his pajamas, dressing gown and slippers (black doggy slippers he couldn't resist buying) and slipped into the water.

It was lovely. And deep. His feet barely touched the bottom. Harry enjoyed a brief swim. But no ideas came to him. He leaned against the edge and opened his egg, but the screeching was so loud it made him jump and he dropped it on the floor.

'I'd try putting it in the water if I were you.'

Harry swallowed a mouthful of water and bubbles in his shock.

'Myrtle!' Harry spluttered in outrage. 'What the hell? I'm not wearing anything!' Well, the foam was thick enough to hide him, but he had a bad feeling Myrtle had been spying on him from the start.

The ghost girl blinked at him from her perch on the taps. 'I closed my eyes when you got in,' she said. 'Anyway, why don't you try putting it in the water? That's what Cedric did.'

'Have you been spying on him too?' Harry asked, indignantly. 'Is that what you do in the evenings, watch Prefects take baths?' What a breach of privacy.

'Sometimes...' Myrtle said slyly. 'Though I haven't spoken to anyone before.'

'...I'm honoured.' Harry made sure she had her eyes covered when he got out and wrapped a towel around his whole body while he retrieved his egg.

Okay, back in the bath. Now...

'Open it underwater,' Myrtle peeped out. 'Go on.'

Now there was a gurgling song. Myrtle told him to put his head under to hear it.

Harry took a deep breath, and ducked under to hear eerie voices singing. After three more goes to memorise, he started thinking about what it could mean.

Eventually, he got to the conclusion that there were merpeople in the lake and he would have to do something down there... Ah. Crap. Now, Harry could swim okay, but was it enough for an excursion deep down into the Black Lake? How would he fight underwater? And just how was he supposed to hold his breath that long? Damn, this must be his age showing again; the older students might know how to keep breathing. Maybe the was a potion for it.

Harry thought while Myrtle monologued about how she'd haunted Olive Hornby. What were the merpeople going to take?

Uh oh.

Myrtle was brought out of her muttering when she noticed Harry stop muttering to himself. A blank look came onto his face. There was a silvery, shimmering around him. Oo, she thought. Harry's spirit was leaking out of his body. Not many people could do that. That teacher in the smelly tower, Trelawney could.

Uh oh. Harry's body was slipping underwater! That should have woken him up. Too bad he bonked his head on a tap.

Better go in and lift him out. Myrtle fazed underwater and moved closer to Harry. Then she stopped. Under the water, his hair floated around his head like a dark halo. His glasses were on because he could barely see without them. There were similar to hers. He was similar to her in other ways, too, Myrtle noticed. Harry had small spots on his chin and knobbly joints. He wasn't nearly as handsome as Cedric or Tom, or some of the other boys at Hogwarts, but he wasn't bad looking either, Myrtle mused, eyeing his reasonably fit body. He really was a nice boy. Would it be so bad if he died? He could stay young forever and live with her in her toilet. He could stay safe from all the trouble he got into. And maybe one day they could pass on together. Merlin knew Myrtle wasn't ready yet. The idea was frightening.

But if she let him die, would Harry ever forgive her? Would Dumbledore let her stay at Hogwarts if she let a student die? Surely not.

Myrtle sighed. Maybe he'd get killed during the Tournament anyway. There were still two tasks left. She flew/swam right into Harry's body. She wasn't very good at manipulating her energy to move things like Peeves was, so she'd have to possess Harry briefly. They weren't supposed to do it, but this was a special circumstance. She knew the House ghosts has done it occasionally when a student was in immediate danger.

Harry was floating in a haze of heat. His mind was full of bubbles, shifting. There was a heavy feeling in him growing with every second. And then he was Myrtle, cool and drippy and kicking his/her legs up because she couldn't just let Harry die like that. Her head pushed out into the air and her arms were flung over the side to hold on. She/he clung to the side of the bath, spluttering and breathing.

Myrtle/Harry rubbed the pain in the back their head. Damn tap. It was different when they were a ghost and could just squeeze in and out. And now their glasses were covered in bubbles. They took them off and dunked them quickly to wash the foam off. As they put them back on, a glint of gold caught their eye. It was a golden egg. Oh yes, they'd brought it in to hear it sing underwater. Cedric had told them to because he'd come in the other day and nearly all the bubble were gone by the time he figured it out. They'd gotten it much sooner, but it turned out Cedric had not tried to pull a prank on them. He honestly wanted to return the favour for telling him about the dragons...

Myrtle/Harry became Myrtle and Harry again when the side-of-soul-who-felt-wrong touched them and they hurt. Jerked back into awareness of herself again, Myrtle pulled out of Harry's body and sat down by the side of the pool. What a weird experience! Much different from possessing Olive Hornby.

'Whoa,' Harry murmured. 'What just happened?' Something very strange had just happened to him. Like he was someone else, like he was in a dream.

'You hit your head and nearly drowned,' Myrtle said. Harry looked at her. She looked almost as confused as he felt.

'I'm not good at touching solid things like Peeves is,' she continued, 'so I possessed you to make you get your head up.'

... 'You- you- possessed me?' The hell?

Myrtle sniffed. 'Well I had too, didn't I? You would have drowned. You should be grateful.'

'I am grateful!' Harry reassured her. 'I am. Really. Thanks Myrtle. I'm just surprised. I've never been possessed before.'

'You're the second person I've possessed,' Myrtle said. 'The first was Olive Hornby. It was quite confusing being her and me. By the way, Harry, who was that other person in there?'

'Other person?' Harry kicked his legs lazily.

'The other soul inside you.'

'... What?'

'There's another soul in there, Harry. Not a normal soul- it was smaller than that. It was more like a piece of one. It didn't feel right.'

'Oh. Um,' Harry knew it was his connection to Voldemort, right? But Myrtle said it was actually a piece of soul. A piece? How did souls come in pieces? The closest thing he'd ever heard of was perhaps the memory Voldemort had left in his old diary...

'I think I'll get out now. It's way past curfew.'

'Oh it is, isn't it? Well, goodnight Harry. Good luck with the task. Come visit me sometime.' With that, Myrtle squeezed into a tap and disappeared.

XXX xxx XXX

Wow, Harry thought as he slipped into bed. What a nerve wracking experience! He'd been on his way to Gryffindor Tower when he'd scene Mr. Crouch's name on the Marauder's Map – in Professor Snape's office. Unable to ignore his curiousty, he gone to check it out – and gotten his leg stuck in that damn trick stair! He'd dropped the egg, it fell open, letting loose an ear-splitting racket – which drew Mr. Filch to the scene. Then Snape and Moody showed up and seen the Marauder's Map and he'd nearly been caught! Snape recognised the Map and egg, and Moody's eye could see through invisibility cloaks. Harry's heart had beat so fast with fear. Thankfully, Moody seemed to be on side. The Defence teacher claimed the Map was his and managed to get rid of Snape and Filch – why had Snape rubbed his left arm like that?

On the way back, Harry and Moody had briefly talked about strange things gong on – the Dark Mark at the World Cup, the Death Eaters, the Tournament... Harry lent Moody the Marauder's Map since he did really owe him now, and Moody said Harry would make a good auror.

It was an interesting idea, Harry thought in bed, but he'd like to see just how scarred and torn up the other aurors were first.

XXX xxx XXX

*An obi is a belt rather like a scarf. Geta are wooden jandals (flip-flops) with prop-ups a bit like roller-skate wheels but not wheeled on the bottom for height. And a kimono of course, is like an Asian-flavoured dressing gown with big sleeves. They're so cool.

(2) Eeyah! Make way for the tribe!

[3] Wooden shoes with pointed tips.

Google, Information Bulgaria, : my food references. I once made okonomiyaki at home. It was good.

(4) I just had some today (Saturday). It's really good.

(5) The bubble idea is from One Piece, with a touch of magic. It won't pop so easily, and oxygen can get in. Let me know if you think it can be used again...