Twisted Tales

Hidden Beauty

Draco and I sit in the common room long after everyone else has gone to bed. As the clock chimes ten, Draco stands, offering me his hand. We slip through the entrance, making our way quickly up the steps. Draco leads us up to the fifth floor, hurrying along the hallways. He stops suddenly just to the left of a statue of Boris the Bewildered. I have to pinwheel my arms in order to regain balance and not knock into him. He grins, pressing a finger to my forehead as if that's actually going to help.

"Bursting Bubbles," Draco whispers.

There's a light click, the door we're standing in front of swinging open. He ushers me inside a light tiled room. The moonlight streaming in through the high windows turns the room into a glowing pearl of iridescent colors. To one side are shower and toilet stalls, all hidden behind doors etched with the Hogwarts crest. Directly in front of me is a large, marbled pool-like tub surrounded by dozens of golden faucets. Behind the tub is a stained glass window depicting a mermaid with brilliant golden hair and a glittering emerald tail. She glances over at us before continuing to run a shell brush through her long locks.

Draco throws his arms out, spinning in a slow circle, "Welcome to the prefects bathroom."

"This is wicked."

As Draco begins to turn knobs, filling the bath with elegant smelling bubbles and simmering silver water, I strip down to my bra and underwear. He follows suit, sliding into the tub with his boxers on. The bath fills quickly, Draco turning the taps off only minutes later.

We float around for a while, enjoying the silence and the feeling of warm water caressing our skin. He reaches across the growing gap between us, catching my hand in his, pulling me in closer. Draco hums, the melody echoing back on us. I've never been jealous of the Prefects before. All their duties seem mind mumblingly boring, but I'd deal with that if it meant I got to use this bathroom all the time. It definitely beats the cramped dorm bathrooms which always seem to be full of people regardless of the time of day.

I manage to float a few of the bubbles off the surface of the water. They bounce around in air, moving in time with the movements of my fingers. With more time to practice now that I'm not trying to hide it from Mrs. Figg or people at Grimmauld Place, I've gotten quite good at wandless levitation. Draco, who has also come a long way with the art since the beginning of term, manages to pop three of them.

"I had a go at their family, the Weasley's," Draco admits sometime later, the two of us cuddled together on a bench built into the tub. Most of the bubbles are gone, the water now glimmering up at us.

Scoping up another handful of the remaining bubbles, I blow them gently, sending them showering down over Draco, "I figured it was something like that."

"I had that Snitch you know, it was mine."

Flopping back against Draco's water-slicked chest, I lean my head on his shoulder, staring up at the ceiling. Like the Great Hall, the ceiling in the Prefect's bathroom has been enchanted, stars twinkle back at me, "You haven't got anyone to impress in here, Draco."

One of the many things I cherish about my relationship with Draco is how direct we can be with each other. Draco tells me when I'm letting my temper get the better of me when I need to remember who I am and what's important. In turn, I remind him that life doesn't always need to be a competition. Much like his father, Draco is prideful. He sees every loss, every slight as something personal. Sometimes he needs a gentle nudge out of the fixation this breeds. Usually, he takes these with a smile, happy to move forward. We use this openness, this ability to hear each other to help the other grow, to be the best they can be.

"I want to impress you. I want you to be proud of me."

I lay a quick kiss against the shell of Draco's ear before responding, "I'm always proud of you. Your worth is more than Quidditch."