Unofficial Portkey Archive

Chapter 6: Second Fiddle

Once McGonagall's cloak had swished around the corner, Harry entered the bathroom, aching to finally have a soak in the warm, soapy water. Glancing around him, he was pleased to see that it had been completely unaffected by the war. The only difference that he could tell was that the mermaid in the painting on the wall seemed much more perturbed than usual.

Harry went immediately over to the tub and turned on the faucet, and after choosing a multitude of bubbles in varying shapes, sizes, and colors, went over to the corner where the towels were kept. After selecting one, he turned around to walk back to the tub, only to leap back as he came face-to-face with Moaning Myrtle.

"Myrtle!" Harry yelped in a not-so-manly voice. "What in the bloody hell!!!"

"Oh, I'm sorry, Harry," Myrtle said with a sniff. "I didn't frighten you, did I?"

"No," Harry said sarcastically. "I usually jump ten feet in the air and raise my voice about ten calibers when I greet someone."

"Well, there's no need to get snippy," Myrtle huffed, crossing her ghostly arms. "I was only saying hello."

"It's alright," Harry grumbled. "I should have known you'd be here anyway. At least your timing was better. So where have you been, anyway? I didn't see you at the battle."

"Well, of course you didn't! A ghost wouldn't be of much use on the battlefield, now would they?"

"I suppose not. Er, Myrtle, if you hadn't noticed, I was sort of in the middle of -"

"Taking a bath?" Myrtle said knowledgeably.

"Yeah. So if you wouldn't mind, I'd sort of like to get on with that."

"Fine! If you don't appreciate my company, I'll just leave!" Myrtle said, her voice choked with tears. She then spun around and ran (or rather, floated quickly) through the wall of the bathroom, her face in her hands. Harry heard the mermaid in the painting giggle.

Harry shook his head as he made his way to the tub. I spoke to her for less than a minute and she still left in a tizzy. Harry paused. Tizzy? He shook his head and turned the multiple knobs he had started until the water and bubbles came to a stop.

After glancing around the bathroom to make sure that Moaning Myrtle had indeed left the vicinity, Harry stripped off his clothes and slipped into the soapy water. He moaned at the delightful feeling of the warm water on his body and sank into the bath until the bubbles had reached his neck. Finally, Harry rested his head on the edge of the tub, allowing himself to drift off into a blissfully dreamless sleep.

************

Harry woke up in a haze of darkness. Blinking wearily, he saw that a torch in each corner of the room was now burning amiably, casting the walls and floor in a warm, comforting glow.

After he had become more alert, Harry washed off the grime that had accumulated on his body, which took a surprising (and what he found rather disgusting) amount of time. After he had finished rinsing out his hair, he stepped out of the tub and began rubbing the towel over his body, gratified by the feeling of his now clean skin.

After he had dressed, he left the bathroom and began walking slowly through the corridor, contemplating his next move. The view he saw from a window along the hallway showed him that he had been in the bathroom for multiple hours; the sky was already dark and filled with stars. His nap had apparently lasted much longer than he had anticipated.

Knowing he had nowhere else to go, Harry trudged back up to the common room, hoping that someone was still awake.

His hopes were rewarded as he entered the portrait hole (with no password, thankfully) and was met with the sight of Hermione reading on the sofa, clad in periwinkle pajamas.

"Harry!" Hermione looked up when he plopped himself next to her. "What took you so long? It's nine o' clock!"

"Sorry," Harry said sheepishly. "I sort of fell asleep again."

"Really?" Hermione laughed. "One nap wouldn't suffice?"

"Suppose not," Harry grinned.

"Well, it's alright. Everyone's already gone to sleep, but I saved you something from dinner," Hermione said, gesturing towards the table behind her, where a plate of chicken, mashed potatoes, and green beans sat, still steaming from what could only be a heating charm.

"What, no treacle tart?" Harry said. Hermione shot him a dirty look. "I mean, `Gee Hermione, thanks. I don't know what I would do without you'." After nodding her approval, Hermione handed him the dish and a fork. He immediately began to tear into the chicken.

"You didn't have to stay up," Harry said after finishing off a few mouthfuls. "Though I do immensely appreciate the food, I could've gotten some myself."

"I wanted to," Hermione insisted. "I didn't want you to be lonely."

Harry cast his eyes over to where the rather large novel she had been reading was draped over the edge of the couch. He glanced at Hermione with raised eyebrows.

"And?"

Hermione looked guiltily at the book beside her.

"And I haven't had the opportunity to read anything besides defense books and The Tales of Beedle and the Bard since we started the Horcrux hunt."

Harry found it amusing that she spoke with the air of a smoker finally getting a cigarette after a dreadfully long weekend.

"So the truth comes out," he said in a mock-hurt voice. "Second fiddle to a book, am I?"

"I'm afraid so," Hermione replied sadly. "At least for tonight."

"I guess I can deal with one night of being second fiddle."

Harry noticed Hermione suppress a yawn. "You look sleepy. Is my playful, witty banter boring you?"

"Oh, don't be silly," Hermione said. "You're banter is far from boring me. I am sort of tired, though."

"Well, don't let me keep you up," Harry said. "I'm almost finished eating anyway."

"Really? You wouldn't mind?"

"Of course not."

"Well, alright," Hermione said rising and placing her book on the table from which she had retrieved Harry's plate. As she passed behind him, she ran her hand lightly over his head and made her way to the staircase leading to the girls' dormitory. Before she reached the top, she glanced behind her.

"Good night, Harry."

"Night, Hermione."

She had only climbed a few more steps when Harry spoke again.

"And I'd better not find a certain someone in my dormitory tomorrow morning."

"Oh, shut up, you," Hermione said, flustered, and ascended the last couple of stairs to her dormitory, entering it before Harry could respond.

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