The curse of the magic bathrobes
If one thing in the universe was to be true, always and forever, one thing only, it would be that January in Great Britain, especially at Hogwarts, was a sad, grey, wet month, with weeks going by without seeing the sun.
And so, why—why, in the name of Merlin and everything that was holy—would the school organize a Quidditch game on the twenty-first of that hell-spawned month?
It was cold. Wet. Grey. Again. Still. For ever.
Caitlyn remembered the days she used to play herself. She had been a good Seeker, her keen eyes almost always the first to catch a glimpse of the Snitch. Only her imperfect skills on a broom had stood between her and a legendary record that could have opened a professional career for her. Not that she would have been interested.
"Do you remember when we used to play?" asked Vi next to her. "We didn't care much about the rain; we were just happy to fly. Damn, now that we're up here, I wonder how we actually agreed to play under that blasted rain. Or even practice! "
"You're reading my mind," smiled Cait.
The warming charm on her coat was barely enough to keep the wind from freezing her bones, and her arm had started to hurt from holding the umbrella above her head.
"Here, let me take over," offered Vi, grabbing the handle without waiting for an answer.
The limited space beneath its protection forced them to be closer than colleagues usually would be, but then again, everyone—be it in the teachers' lounge or the rest of the public—was huddled together to share the shelters.
"Damn, if only it was Gryffindor, it would have been done already!"
Being young was not an obstacle for James Potter. It might have been his first year on the team, but he crushed all the Seekers he had faced. Which, so far, were only two, but his display had been so masterful that everyone was waiting for the next game of the House of Red and Gold just to see him. Especially because this last game of the season would be against Slytherin, and the rivalry was famous.
But today, on the cursed twenty-first of January, it was Ravenclaw against Hufflepuff. Cait's House against Vi's. Both were wearing the colors of their adoptive Houses, but the pride of wearing them had quickly been washed away by the rain. They both, along with everyone out this day, were praying for the game to be over.
And it wouldn't. It just wouldn't! It had been an hour already, or maybe six—who could tell at this point? And the Seekers, facing Mother Nature rather than each other, were battered by the wind every time they tried to make a move to find the Snitch. The little golden bugger seemed to be having the time of its non-life hiding between the drops of rain.
"Should we just go back inside?" asked—or begged—Vi, shivering under her winter cloak.
"It's my House, and I promised Professor Flitwick I would check on their Seeker to see what advice I could give him."
"I mean, that looks fairly obvious to me. She's crap, and she should learn to hurry the hell up."
Caitlyn scoffed, and mist escaped her mouth as the warmth of her breath met the winter air.
"And what advice would you give this young Miss Collins? After all, you were Hufflepuff's Keeper, weren't you?"
"Oh, so you finally remember?"
Cait smirked.
"No, I don't. Never paid attention to Keepers. I just did my research."
Vi gently bumped her shoulder with her fist.
"You troll. But yeah, the kid ain't half bad, although a little weak on her left side. She took most of her goals there."
Caitlyn had noticed as well, but she was surprised Vi's analysis was so accurate.
"I didn't know you were tracking this."
"What? Do you think me too stupid to count goals?"
"What? Come on, Vi. Don't put words in my mouth, especially when they're dead wrong."
She looked genuinely hurt, but Vi's smile was too warm to stay mad at—or even become mad in the first place. She added:
"I only meant that I pegged you for a more instinctive coach, feeling things with your heart rather than sheer data."
Vi scratched her neck, as she always did when she felt awkward.
"You flatter me, Cupcake."
A loud whistle interrupted them, cutting the conversation short, and a major cheer erupted from the crowd.
"Son of a ghoul!" complained Vi. "All this time getting soaked just to miss the moment they get the Snitch! Who won?"
Judging by the ballet of celebration going on above the field, the answer seemed clear.
"I believe Hufflepuff did. Congratulations, dear, you win."
Vi flashed her signature grin and extended her hand.
"Then pay up!"
Caitlyn grabbed her forearm and pulled it toward her, forcing Vi closer, and deposited a quick kiss on the woman's cheek.
"Here," she said, matching Vi's smile. "Hopefully that made it worth your time in the rain."
Vi grabbed Cait's hand back, trying to make sure she wouldn't run away.
"Well, I can't buy an ale with it, but I guess that's good enough to consider your bet paid."
Caitlyn took an overly offended look.
"It's more than good enough! It's priceless."
Vi wanted to add, "Priceless indeed," but never got the chance, as the crowd, eager to get out of the rain, pushed them toward the exits.
Caitlyn had known wealth all her life; this much was clear to everyone, given her last name. When, in her sixth year at Hogwarts, she had been named prefect, she had been given access to the privileged prefect bathroom. She had thought, "Merlin, this is even better than home." It was definitely grand and luxurious enough to be a sole motivation for becoming a prefect. With golden taps all around the large stone-carved pool, providing everything from hot water to bubbles, it had become her favorite place in her last years. She had also greatly appreciated the fact that she had only seven other students to share it with, rather than the entirety of the girls in her House. The statue would also not allow any boys when a girl was inside, and vice versa. In a time when she did not feel comfortable with her own body and, even more so, was questioning her own sexuality, those bathrooms and the privacy they offered had felt like a welcome blessing.
So when, on her first day as a teacher, Vi had announced that the teachers' bathrooms were even greater than the prefects', she had been a bit doubtful but also very, very excited.
And then, Hogwarts had delivered in a big way—fourfold, to be exact. When the founders had designed their school, they had probably decided they were allowed to treat themselves a little, along with teachers that would share their knowledge with and after them.
Up the stairs after their dorms, on the way to the teachers' common room, was an unassuming archway with a small gargoyle above it. Lavandarius was the password, and when spoken loud enough, the gargoyle would smile, and the stone wall would slide open to the right.
The room it revealed was always the same: empty, with walls of white marble, three golden hooks, two towels, and a bathrobe carefully folded on a smooth dark wood bench, a candle in each corner, and a wooden door on the other side. It was always at the perfect temperature—warm enough that taking off your clothes wouldn't feel like an attack on your skin, but not so hot that it would be uncomfortable. The bathrobe was always smooth and warm, like a hug, often smelling of lavender, but sometimes of vanilla or almond.
When ready, with clothes hung on the hooks and the fuzzy robe on your skin, you could open the door and discover paradise.
At the center of the chamber, under a magical night sky not unlike the one in the Great Hall, was a large circular bathing pool, its water consistently rippling with magic. At the center of this pool was another, smaller one, separated from the main pool by a thin underwater marble wall, large enough only for one or two people. Its water was warmer, slightly swirling, and you could only access it by walking through the welcoming waters of its parent pool.
All around this already divine resting place, illuminated by floating lanterns and carved torches, were four separate bathing areas, sheltered under stone arches—one for each House.
Gryffindor's bath, lined with golden decorations and ruby-incrusted taps, resembled a hot spring from the northern lands. Its hot water would sprout from below, steaming and bubbling, engulfing your body in its heated embrace.
The next alcove was its opposite—not Slytherin's, actually, but Ravenclaw's. Rowena's reflecting pool was a small, perfectly circular body of colder water that always seemed unperturbed. But its real effect would only take place once you stepped in. The enchantment would activate, and the outside world would fade from your vision. It would seem as though the waters of your small bath stretched to the horizon, lit by a full moon, quiet and serene. It was actually rather dangerous, as time would stretch, and you could lose yourself in the contemplation of this peaceful serenity.
Hufflepuff's bath was quite unexpected. Rather than a pool, it was a small square puddle, only there to gather the waters of the cascade that crashed from above. Violent and relentless, the cascade was not a place one would linger under for long, but the force of the stream would massage the muscles of your shoulders and back. Anyone who spent a few minutes here after a long day of hard work would emerge relieved and far less tense.
Slytherin's bath was the one of privacy. No waters occupied this space, only thick, heavy steam, slightly turned green by enchanted lights rising from the ground. It was hot—really hot—making its occupant sweat their tiredness away. But the mist was so thick that identifying anyone sitting on the green marble bench was downright impossible.
It was always a wonder for Caitlyn. The link between Salazar Slytherin and his need for private conversation was understandable, given his mantra and reputation. But in the six months she had spent at the school, she had rarely seen anyone in those bathrooms. Granted, she tended to use it more in the morning after waking up, needing to feel fresh to start the day, but she had rarely crossed paths with any other member of the staff.
She didn't really understand how everything worked. She supposed men had another set of baths for themselves, as she had never seen one here.
Privacy had been a concern for her at first. She was terrified of going from one bath to another, walking around naked, possibly stumbling onto Minerva McGonagall in her birthday suit. She would always be on edge, looking around, making sure no one was there to witness her tiptoeing from the cascade to the hot spring.
Until one day, in her second week, Mrs. Garlick greeted her as she was swimming around in the center pool. And quickly, Caitlyn realized that she was swimming with her robes on, tightly tied around her waist.
Curious, Caitlyn stepped very slowly into the pool and felt the water rushing to her skin as if the robes weren't there.
"They're illusions," explained the Herbology professor. "We're actually not wearing anything, but it just looks like we are! The towels are real, though, if that makes you feel better."
It did, at first, until she quickly learned to enjoy this little bit of magic and practicality.
Divinity was no god. No eternal light at the end of a tunnel. It was no breeze in the sky and no angels from above.
It was slipping into this hot spring bath after an eternally long hour under that blasted January rain. It was feeling the warm waters welcoming, worshipping her icy skin to bring her into pure bliss.
"Oh, hey, Cupcake! Looks like we had the same idea!"
Caitlyn's eyes jerked wide open at the noise, discovering Vi entering the spring and sitting next to her.
"Can't believe after six months, it's the first time we meet here! Granted, I usually go late after my workout, but still!"
Caitlyn's mind went completely blank.
"I… I usually go in the morning…" was all she could manage to say.
"Morning? Yeah, nah, not a chance. Waking up with that kind of aggression? Not for me."
She let out the same sigh of relief.
"Oh, gods, that's good. After an hour under this stupid weather, that's perfection. You know, you kind of forget about it after some time, but hot showers are a luxury, I'm telling you. First one I took after getting out of prison, I cried for like an hour!"
She had that smile on her lips—the one that made Cait swoon—but this time, she was completely frozen still. The hot waters and their vapors had disappeared.
Vi was here. Next to her. Naked. While she was here. Naked.
Vi's bathrobe was black and yellow, tight around her skin, the illusion still perfect under the water, but no amount of magic could make Caitlyn forget that this was naught but an illusion.
The pink-haired woman seemed completely unfazed by the situation, and that vexed the professor. Either Vi Lane didn't care about having her undressed by her side, just a few centimeters away from her skin—which would be hurtful considering the feelings she harbored for her—or she was adult and mature enough to recognize this was only a shower and that the magical illusion was doing its privacy job to perfection. And the fact that Caitlyn couldn't persuade her own mind and heart of it was quite annoying to her.
"You okay?" asked the groundskeeper.
Cait blinked back into existence.
"Hm? Ah, yes. I'm sorry. Just spacing out for a moment. You were saying?"
Vi pouted slightly.
"I was saying that Helga's cascade was the best for sore muscles, but nothing could beat Godric's hot spring in winter."
Caitlyn nodded. Speaking was still too much to ask of her. She kept her eyes fixed in front of her, begging her mind to stay blank. She had no idea if her face was red or ghost-pale.
Vi smiled, and for once, Caitlyn didn't like this.
"Ah, I see," she said. "Problem is the robes."
Damn it, thought Cait. There was a third option she forgot about. It wasn't that Vi didn't care or a matter of maturity. She enjoyed this.
Vi stood up and leaned toward Cait—close, smelling divine—her right hand on the stone to keep balance and also cut off Cait's way out. Vi's breasts were just a few inches away from Cait's face, from her mouth, and she could have tasted them by just sticking out her tongue. But the robes were doing their work perfectly, not displaying a single inch of skin that shouldn't be shown.
"Is it the idea of what's underneath that keeps you from speaking? Or knowing that I'm right here, just a touch away, that freezes your mind?"
Caitlyn managed to raise her eyes to meet Vi's and lost herself in the steel blue.
"P… Please," she begged. "Don't. Please. Not here."
A strange expression crossed Vi's face, and gently, she stepped back and sat back down in her place.
"Sure. No problem. Sorry."
"It's… I…" Caitlyn tried to explain.
"Nah, don't sweat it, Cupcake. It's okay. In prison, you got one shower a week, you went at the same time as everybody, and you had at least four guards watching you at all times while you were scrubbing the dirt off."
Caitlyn felt sick to her stomach, but for the first time, surprising her, Vi grabbed her hand, just to hold it in hers, and she watched the fake sky above them.
"I lost most of my sense of modesty there. I might be shy about a lot of things, Cupcake, especially around you, but for me, a body's just a body. And I forgot that not everyone's like that. Sorry."
Caitlyn pressed Vi's fingers in the palm of her hand.
"It's alright," she answered, finally smiling back, her shyness melting away just a little. "No harm done."
She looked at the sky too.
"And I'm sorry. No one should ever be treated like that. I wish… I don't know. I wish your life didn't have to be so hard."
"I know, Cupcake. But then again, anything else and I wouldn't have ended up with you, naked next to me, enjoying the most divine of baths."
Caitlyn blushed but laughed. Her unease seemed to wash away slowly with the heat.
"That's a strange way to look at it."
"It's the only way to look at it."
Silence fell for a minute, only the sound of water moving and crashing filling the atmosphere around them.
"You were right, you know?" Caitlyn admitted.
"I know. About what?"
Cait chuckled.
"These baths. The prefects' bathrooms look like a dumpster next to these."
Vi smiled back.
"Yeah, I know. Do you want to move to the steam bath?"
"No, thanks, I'm well he… Wait a minute!"
Caitlyn shot up, forgetting everything about illusory robes and enchanting waters.
"You were not Hufflepuff's prefect!"
Vi stared at her for a second, then burst out laughing. It echoed off every stone in the room and made it more enchanting still.
"No, I wasn't," she chuckled, wiping a tear from the corner of her eye. "But I had a very good relationship with her!"