Ten Questions (Harry Potter x Slytherin reader)

Chapter 22

"You know, for a Gryffindor, you're really scared of water."

"I am not! It's just... I'm not really sure about this. What if he's wrong?"

"Are you saying that you think Diggory is lying to you?" I ask, raising an accusing eyebrow. He opens his mouth to protest, but I cut him off, "You know I'm right, Potter." Harry falls silent and mutters something under his breath before reluctantly shaking his head.

"I know," he mutters.

A satisfied smile crosses my lips. "Good. Now, stop being a coward and get into the damn bathtub." I blink twice at my words, wrinkling my nose. "Well, that's something I never thought I'd say."

Potter sighs.

"Fine," he mutters. He unties his Gryffindor tie and tosses it to the side, looking rather angry about it as it lands in a puddle of water, soaking it. He then reaches for his shirt, but stops mid-way through it and turns to face me. "Why can't you be the one who goes into the bathtub?"

"Remind me, who's name was it that got called from the Goblet?"

Potter only grunts in response. He reaches for his shirt again, then goes red as he glances at me. "Don't look!" He says, embarrassed. I turn my head the other direction, rolling my eyes.

"It's just your shirt, Potter."

"I know, but still." An awkward silence passes between us as I wait impatiently, a little anxious. The Prefects could come in at any moment. I try to push the thought aside, hardly noticing that my cheeks have gone slightly pink. As he's changing out of his clothes, I take a few moments to study the prefects bathroom. "You know, maybe helping you with the tasks is worth it," I say thoughtfully as I look around. "The Prefects bathroom is amazing." The thought that Adrian gets to go here instead of the cold showers in the Slytherin common room makes me feel a pang of jealousy. The bathroom is softly lit by a splendid candle-filled chandelier, and everything is made of white marble, including the rectangular bathtub that Harry was now in- though, it looked more like a swimming pool than a bathtub, really.

A few moments later, and Potter heaves a sigh. "Alright, you can turn around."

"You sure took your time," I tease as I slowly turn around. My eyes widen slightly when they land on his bare chest for a moment before quickly averting them, hoping my expression doesn't betray me. Potter's face goes red at this, then turns the other direction, dragon egg in his hands as he slowly slips into the prefects bathtub, careful to not lose his grip on the towel wrapped  around his waist.

A few moments pass. Potter pauses, then mutters over his shoulder, "Just... don't stare."

I scoff.

"I'd rather stare at the wall, thanks."

"I could've done this by myself, you know."

"I'm sure that's true," I say sarcastically. "Just like how you figured out what to do for the first task all by yourself."

"I did most of the work!" Potter protests. "I was the one who figured out what it was in the first place, and-"

"Yes, but who was the one who figured out the second task?" I ask, cutting Potter off.

"That's only because Cedric told you!" Potter says, angry.

"And Hagrid didn't tell you what the first was?"

"Fair enough," Potter mutters, trying to suppress a grin. He then tilts his head to the side, staring at the egg. "Nothing has happened," he says. He casts me a nervous look. "Do you think it's broken?"