A/N: Okay, this chapter may seem a bit pointless, but just stay tuned. The second author's note will have explanations : )
"Oh, for the love of Merlin," Hermione snatched the floral robe that dangled off its hook, jamming it over her arms as she exited the shower.
Parvati entered the lavatory in a purple dressing gown, brushing the long plait of tresses that flowed down her sides. Humming to herself, she hovered in front of the mirror before spotting a very disgruntled Hermione in the background, eyes shooting laser beams at the polished glass.
"Oh, yeah- faucet's broken."
"Sadly, that knowledge could have helped me," Hermione drawled, grabbing her toiletries in a huff, "You mean to tell me the entirety of the Gryffindor girls' bathroom isn't working properly? And no one bothered to inform me of it? How exactly is it 'broken?'" Hermione asked skeptically, pursing her lips at the vague description of the apparent shower malfunction.
"Oh- well, Lavender was taking a really hot shower this morning and the water turned off when she was rinsing her hair. She was so upset because there were soap bubbles still in her curls. Had to wash them out in the sink. Isn't that dreadful?"
"Ghastly," she retorted with a roll of her eyes, "So did you lot expect me to just 'figure it out' then when I hopped in here this morning?" Hermione spat, glaring at Parvati's reflection.
"Well, you're good at that sort of thing," the girl answered simply, turning around in a languid manner as a brush slid gracefully through her locks.
"Wait! Where did you take a shower this morning?"
"Oh…" Parvati said quietly, dark brown eyes finding the floor, "Dean and I, er- he let me use theirs," she stumbled, "I guess you could try the boys' loo…" she suggested, still not meeting her gaze.
"Merlin, Parvati, you're worse than Ginny We…" Hermione trailed off, holding her breath as she awkwardly sidled toward the door.
Parvati stopped mid-stroke and glued her eyes to Hermione's frozen form, her pouty lips pulling into a smirk. Shining strands of darkest night shimmered in the sunlight, streaming in from the windows on the adjacent wall. She opened her mouth as if to speak, dark eyes sparkling with mischief before she was cut off-
"Thanks, Parvati- I think I will go to the boys' loo," and Hermione raced out the door in a flash, chestnut tendrils whipping in her wake.
Floral dressing gown billowing behind her, Hermione descended the spiraling stairs and dashed up the other side, dainty feet pattering on each marble step. Prancing rapidly down the corridor to avoid detection, she skidded to a halt at the sixth door on the left, brown hair lashing about as she checked for other hallway inhabitants.
Knock, knock, knock, knock, knock.
Bouncing on her heels as she waited for an answer, the antsy witch heard a great shuffle commence behind the wooden aperture, feet shuffling against the carpet followed by an ardent groan.
The mystery figure fumbled with the doorknob, Hermione's eyes bulging in anticipation for fear of getting caught. Ever so slowly, the gate was finally opened, revealing a sleep-ridden Ron with his shirt inside out.
"Harry's not here, go put some more clothes on," he yawned after eyeing Hermione's lack of proper attire.
"Would you just let me in?" she hissed, smacking his arm out of the way as she bustled in the door.
"What's the special occasion? You don't sport this look very often," Ron mused, ruffling his already crumpled locks as he stifled another yawn.
"Yours isn't much better- Cannons knickers, Ron? Really?"
"Well at least I don't look like a banshee!" he snapped, face flushed with pink as he snatched a robe off the dresser.
"Where is everybody? Where's Harry?" Hermione inquired, ignoring Ron's attempt at morning humor. "Ugh, this place is disgusting," she gagged, wrinkling her nose at the rather large pile of chocolate frog wrappers on the floor.
"I dunno- prolly out snogging….Neville," he finished quickly, snapping his head to the four-poster on his left.
Hermione's lids drooped in annoyance as she turned her gaze to Ron, "Swing and a miss," she said flatly.
"I'm not snogging anyone," a sleepy voiced mumbled from behind a scarlet curtain.
"Oh, there's Neville," Ron said matter-of-factly, "see, someone else is in here."
"Well, now it's a party," Hermione intoned, arms akimbo as her eyes grazed the ceiling, "Look, I'm just in here to take a shower. The girls' loo is apparently 'broken'- do you mind if I use yours?"
"Why certainly! You wouldn't need any help perchance?" he added excitedly, eyebrows waggling suggestively.
"Yuck! I thought you just told me I looked like a banshee?" she mocked, head shaking fervently as she narrowed her eyes.
"Well, everything looks good naked," Ron said with a grin, brows raised in expectancy.
"Even your Aunt Muriel?"
"Awww, Merlin, Hermione- that's sick! What the bloody hell is wrong with you? Now that image is going to be seared in my brain for the rest of the day-"
"Incest, Ron…" she interjected with a sneer, "What would your mother say?"
"NOT LIKE THAT- go take your bloody shower, for the love of Quidditch," he shouted, ferociously rubbing his eyes as if trying to erase the horrid mental picture burning its way into memory.
"Look at all these Quibbler magazines, good Lord, Ronald- where did all these come from?" Hermione asked with a scrunch of her nose, suddenly spotting the heap of glossy publications from behind a broken broomstick.
"Wha-"
"Hey, Ron- I just remembered," Neville said slowly, sitting on the edge of his bed with the hangings draped over his ears, "when Hermione was talking about your knickers."
"Okay, one- that sounds absolutely horrendous if taken out of context, two- don't ever say that again, for the sake of my sanity, please, three- Neville, that was more than five minutes ago, get with the program," Hermione declared, "Is this a special edition?" she asked incredulously, picking up an issue off the floor between a pinched thumb and forefinger.
"Give me that!" Ron snatched the magazine out of her hands, turning his attention to Neville, "What about my knickers, Neville?" he asked oddly as he twitched his head about the room, wondering if he actually just asked that.
"Oh, well I'm pretty sure the house elves keep stealing mine…and-"
"I'm sure they do no such thing!" Hermione yelled, taken aback by his abrupt accusation. Her mouth popped open and her eyes were wide with shock, soon staring daggers at the boy trembling beneath his bed sheets.
"Well, erm- I dunno where they went, then. But, I just wanted to tell you that I borrowed a pair of yours the other day…" Neville said absent-mindedly, watching as Ron's eyes opened so wide that the blue was barely visible among the white. His jaw quivered like a leaf on a tree, odd noises sputtering from his mouth.
"Don't worry, Ron- I didn't lose them. I put them back in your trunk."
"Which ones, Neville, which!?" Ron finally demanded, head swimming with anxiety, "Why didn't you tell me this earlier!?! Merlin, Neville, what did they look like?" the words tumbled out of his mouth in a panic, Ron rushing to his trunk and tossing all his undergarments across the room.
"Well, they had the Cannons on them…" Neville said eventually, tilting his chin upward in thought.
"They ALL have the Cannons on them!" Ron yelled frantically, knickers flying all over the place.
"But these were orange-"
"Damn it, Neville! I only own orange knickers!" he cried, shaking the entire contents of his trunk on to the carpet.
"That's why it's good to have variety," Hermione taunted, crossing her arms as she leaned against the doorframe.
"Oh, I found them, Ron," Neville said with a smile, Ron releasing the air from his lungs as he laid back against his four-poster, "You're wearing them."
Hermione jumped out of the way and quickly crossed the room, dodging piles of dirty socks as Ron attempted to hurl in his trunk. She grimaced and turned away, looking sympathetically at the startled boy on the bed, and placed a hand on his shoulder, "Neville, I'm going to use the lavatory, alright? Just don't borrow my knickers."
"I'll try," Neville said in confusion, scratching the side of his head as he watched Ron's unpleasant production.
Hermione set her clothes on the bureau beside the door, gently placing a hand on the brassy handle. Fingers coiling around the icy metal, she shivered slightly as her palm joined with the mahogany surface, applying pressure to the heavy entry. The door swung open with surprising ease, allowing Hermione inside.
She softly shut the wooden barrier, separating the witch from the repulsive events behind her. Black and white tiles patterned the floor, leading to a row of magnificent sinks- the ceramic sculpted in a collage of seashells. The shower basins were on the left, behind billowing curtains of translucent silk.
The girls' lavatories were much more enclosed, having separate doors rather than curtains. Hermione tiptoed to a station, peeking around the partition like a mouse, and flitted her eyes about the enclosure. Curious orbs of chocolate brown searched the tiled walls, slipping back to the outside after passing inspection.
She jabbed a hand behind the curtain, watching it vanish behind the 'transparency' before snatching it back to her chest.
'Interesting…' Hermione thought, letting her floral gown slither to the floor. She glided into the shower with poise, taking a deep breath before turning on the water. A torrential rain drenched her unclothed form, steam rising from her body as she let the drops roll down her skin.
She reveled in the tranquility of her surroundings, breathing deeply as lilacs and honeysuckle filled her nose. Hermione finished her bathe, watching the last remnants of soap disappear from her body, swirling beneath her in a whimsical flurry.
Shaking drenched tendrils against the curve of her back, she leaned in to turn off the faucet, expecting the downpour to screech to a halt. Twisting the knob with all her might, she blocked the flow of water from the spigot, but the sound of a light rainfall still flooded her ears.
Eyes widening in fear, realization donned on Hermione's face, terror enveloping her entire body as the frosty air nipped at her skin.
Someone else was in the shower.
She slid a hand between the silken tapestry and the wall, blindly searching for her floral gown. Remembering she let it fall to the floor, she snatched her arm back inside and began wildly hunting the ground, brown eyes burning a hole in the patterned tiles. It was gone.
Panic filled every fiber of her body, flooding her veins with absolute terror. 'What am I going to do?' ran continuously through her brain, over and over until she finally reached a decision. Run.
Not wearing a stitch of clothing, Hermione dashed out from the curtain and fled to the door, cracking it open just wide enough to snatch her things through the aperture. Whipping her arm back inside, she wrapped the towel around her sopping form, slamming the door and leaning her back up against it.
She slid down the rich mahogany, eyes closed in relief of avoiding a possible embarrassing situation. Hermione figured she would take her clothes, crumpled on the floor beside her, and run them back to her curtain- changing into them as she waited for the other occupant to finish.
She realized, however, that the sound of a gentle rain no longer echoed against her surroundings, apparently having ended during the construction of her plans. Taking in the eerie silence, she slowly opened her eyes- only to find another pair staring back at her.
A/N: I KNOW this chapter was not what you expected but just HOLD ON, okay? Lol I'm building something here and you will NOT be disappointed. I know I promised H/Hr in this chapter, but it took longer than expected to get to. If you'll just put your torches and pitchforks away, you will not be sorry (I hope). Next chapter up shortly!!!