Authors:
![[info]](http://stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small}
1eyedjackRating: PG-13
Canon: pre-HBP.
Length: 4,100 words.
Scenario: I promise to get you soaking wet.
Summary: Draco discovers a secret, Harry plays repairman, and Ron doesn't get any. Ever.
Disclaimer: So not ours.
Notes: We know the cheque says Harry to Draco but really it's more Draco to Harry in the fic. The sentiment's still the same, though. It was started pre-HBP, so it's not compatible.
The Consequences of Repairing a Shower
The witch was wearing nothing except a flower-print bath towel and a pair of double Ds.
Harry tried to turn the page.
�No,� Ron said. �I�m not finished yet.�
Harry looked at him.
�Finished looking,� Ron clarified, and adjusted his sitting position.
Harry turned the page.
The witch was now wearing nothing except her bathtub, which covered all the interesting bits. �Oh Merlin. My plumbing�s broken and I�m so stinky!� She pouted at them and flipped her blonde hair. �Whatever will I do?�
Harry turned the page.
A wizard swung open the door. He was wearing nothing except a tool-belt and a well-positioned piece of lead pipe. �Did someone call for a plumber?� he asked.
The witch clapped her hands.
Harry turned the page.
All of the wizard was now under the sink, except for his ass. And the tool-belt.
The witch winked at Harry and the wizard crawled out from under the sink. Ass-first. �I�ve fixed your pipes, baby,� he said.
Now the witch winked at the wizard. �Don�t you think we better try it out?�
Harry tried to turn the page.
�Hey, Harry, Ron?� Someone knocked on the door.
�Sit on it!� Ron spluttered.
Harry looked at him.
�Here!� Ron said. �Give it to me.� He grabbed the magazine and sat on it.
The door opened.
�Harry and Ron?�
�Hey Seamus,� Ron said. �Hey, we�re a little bit busy, so��
�What are you two doing in the dark?� Seamus asked.
�We have a Lumos,� Harry said.
�Looking at pictures,� Ron said.
Seamus knelt down and started to look under his bed. �What kind of pictures?�
Seamus�s ass was in the air. Not that Seamus�s ass was important or interesting or anything. It was just, you know, out there and Harry couldn�t help looking. Seamus should keep a tighter handle on his ass. He couldn�t just keep it sticking out in random people�s faces. Who knew what the consequences would be. It was just rude.
Harry adjusted his sitting position.
�Family pictures,� Ron said.
�Oh, brilliant!� Seamus said. He crawled out from under his bed in much the same manner as the wizard fixing the pipes, only Seamus was wearing clothes. �I love family pictures. Do you have any of when you�re little?�
�It�s not actually my family,� Ron said, too quickly.
Harry looked at Ron. Seamus did too. �What?� he said. �You�re looking at someone else�s family pictures?�
�I mean, it�s my extended family,� Ron said. �Actually it�s a bunch of people so extended I don�t even really know them. My mum just sent them up because, er, you know how mothers are.�
�Then why are you looking at them?� Seamus said.
�He feels obligated,� Harry contributed.
�It�s really boring.� Ron said. �You should leave. You know, while you still can.�
�Yes, leave,� Harry echoed, trying not to look directly at Seamus. He didn�t know why Seamus was so distracting. It was probably his hair. Seamus had very nice blond hair.
�So does the witch in the magazine,� Harry muttered to himself. �She�s a girl. Girls are hot.�
Ron and Seamus looked at him. �What, Harry?� Ron asked.
Harry panicked. �Er, not that we want you to leave, Seamus. That�s what I was saying. But you should still, you know, go.�
�Okay,� Seamus said, giving Harry a strange look. �But one second, I actually came in here because I was wondering if either of you had seen my special, advance copy of Playwizard. It�s not under my bed, and I know I left it there. I wrote my name on it and everything.�
Harry and Ron looked at each other.
�Nope,� Harry said.
�No way,� Ron added.
�Okay,� Seamus said. �Thanks.�
As soon as Seamus shut the door, Ron had the Playwizard open.
The witch and wizard were both standing in the bathtub, which now covered none of the interesting bits. The wizard had one hand on the witch and the other on the faucet. �And now, baby,� he said, �I�m going to get you soaking wet.�
~~~~~~
After they were done, Ron shoved the magazine into his Quidditch bag.
�What are you doing?�
�We have to get rid of it,� Ron said. �We can�t just stick it back under Seamus�s bed or he�ll know we had it.
�I don�t think he�ll��
�He might,� Ron said. �And I have an idea. Malfoy.�
Harry swallowed. �Malfoy?�
�Specifically, Malfoy�s locker.�
�You want to put it in Malfoy�s locker.� Harry repeated. �There�s no way Malfoy could have gotten a hold of Seamus�s Playwizard. Why not Goyle or Parkinson or somebody not��
�A dog-faced git who absolutely deserves it?� Ron supplied.
�I was going to say not a blond,� Harry said. Ron was looking at him funny so he added, �But Malfoy�s a great idea. I still don't understand how he'd get Seamus's magazine, though."
�It doesn�t matter. We all know Malfoy�s evil. He could have his ways.�
�And if we take Seamus by Malfoy�s locker and he sees his copy of Playwizard��
�Then maybe, if we�re lucky, Seamus will beat the git up,� Ron finished.
All in all it seemed a flawless plan.
~~~~~~
The Slytherins had booked the pitch from six to seven-thirty that evening, so Harry and Ron snuck into the locker room a little after eight. They figured that all of the Slytherins would be gone by now and since Gryffindor was the only team practicing tomorrow, there was no way Seamus, who�d been made Beater, wouldn�t see his Playwizard in Malfoy�s locker.
When they got into the locker room, though, the shower was still running.
�Damn it,� Ron whispered, �their practice must�ve run late.�
�We�ll hurry. We�ll be out of here before they get out of the showers.� Harry pulled Playwizard out of his robes and motioned Ron over to the Slytherin lockers.
It wasn�t hard to figure out which locker was Malfoy�s: if the uniform with Malfoy, Captain embroidered on the chest hadn�t given it away, the black silk boxers monogrammed DM in silver script certainly would have. �Alohomara. Who wears these things?� Ron said, using his wand to pluck them off their hook and hold them out at arm�s length.
�Yuck,� Harry said, �put them back. Let�s just leave the magazine in Malfoy�s locker and go before whoever it is gets out of the shower, okay?�
Almost as the person in the shower had heard him, the water stopped running.
�Merlin�s bloodless balls!� whoever it was yelled.
�Shit,� Ron said. �Here, give me the magazine.� He tossed the boxers back into the locker and leaned Playwizard against Malfoy�s gear bag so that it was impossible not to see it. Seamus had written his name across the top in broad capital letters.
�Right then,� Harry said, �let�s go,� but before they had even started to move they heard the unmistakable whine of the shower room door.
�They�ll see us if we leave,� Ron said, panicked.
�Er. Hide, then,� Harry said. He grabbed Ron by the collar and yanked him behind an alcove. He threw open the nearest door. �See if you can fit inside.�
A mop fell out and hit Harry on the nose. �Ow, shit,� he yelled as Ron clapped one hand over his mouth and with his other caught a crate of Mrs. Skower�s Magical Mess Remover before it smacked Harry in the head.
�Shhh,� Ron said, easing the Magical Mess Remover back onto its shelf. Ron tried to squeeze himself inside the closet. �Harry, this closet is so full of shite I don�t think my arm could fit inside, let alone my�� He didn�t have time to finish protesting because at that moment, Draco Malfoy stepped out of the shower.
Completely naked.
And shivering.
�Who turned off the bloody water?� he snapped.
Harry didn�t dare say anything, but even if he had dared he doubted he would be capable of formulating words.
�Whoever turned off the water, I�m going to kick your face in,� Malfoy said. �I wasn�t finished yet.�
He looked spectacularly pissed off.
�You can�t hide,� Malfoy yelled. He turned around and began to pull back the curtains from every single shower in the locker room. It was utterly pointless. The showers were obviously off and unoccupied.
Malfoy had his back to Harry, displaying his spectacular lack of buttocks. His arms and legs were lean, too, but the muscles were well defined; good for playing Seeker. It was good to be slender but not so much that you were going to fall off your broom every time a gust of wind came. That�s right, Harry thought to himself, keep thinking about Quidditch. Quidditch is the best game in the world. It�s really, really good. I like Quidditch. You need 150 points to win. There are two Beaters, three Chasers, two Seekers...
Malfoy turned to the side and Harry ducked back into the alcove, but not quickly enough to miss the fact that Malfoy, disturbingly, had an enormous hard-on.
�One seeker,� Harry berated himself. �One.�
�Did he see it yet?� Ron mouthed.
�Er. No,� Harry mouthed back, after wondering whether or not ritual suicide was a viable option.
He decided to hazard another glance. To check if the coast was clear. And things.
He peeked around the alcove and knocked over Malfoy�s broomstick.
Malfoy spun around. He was still naked.
�Potter,� he said. �I should have known.�
�You�re naked,� Harry said and then wondered why he said that. �I mean, hello.�
Malfoy looked at him. �I know.�
�You know I meant hello?�
�I know I'm naked."
"Oh," Harry said. Alarmingly, Malfoy didn't reply. "Could we not talk about you, er, being naked. Or, you know, maybe you might want to put on a towel. Or I could get you a towel? I mean, I wouldn't usually get you anything but this is a, um, special circumstance." Harry swallowed and looked over Malfoy's shoulder. Not at Malfoy�s shoulder. Or Malfoy�s bicep. Over it. At the wall. Which was whitewashed. And interesting.
"No," Malfoy said.
"No?" Harry reflexively looked at Malfoy. Then looked away. Then looked back. Then Malfoy smirked and Harry decided he was better off staring at his own feet. "No I can't get you a towel or no we won't talk about your, er, lack of, you know."
"You come in here and shut off my shower and then you have the gall to think you can set the topic of conversation?" Malfoy snapped. His cheeks were ruddy from the steam and his anger. "We'll talk about whatever I want."
"I didn't shut off your shower!" Harry said.
"Save it, Potter."
"You save it," Harry snapped. "You think I want to see you all..." he trailed off.
Malfoy scowled at him. "All?"
"All not-wearing-clothes."
"I don't know," Malfoy threw his arms wide, unfortunately displaying a lot of himself. "You're here."
"Not because of you," Harry said.
Malfoy blinked. "Oh. Then why are you here?"
�Er," Harry said, trying very hard not to look at Malfoy�s cock. It curved slightly to the left. �Why am I here? Well, it's funny actually, because, I mean, we were just in here to��
Malfoy looked at him. �We? So this is a Gryffindor plot?�
�I!� Harry said. �I mean, I was in here, because, er��
�We heard someone needed to fix the shower!� Ron popped out of the broom closet not a moment too soon, waving a tool box. He laughed, slapped an arm around Harry, and then stopped. �You�re naked,� he said to Malfoy.
Malfoy surveyed them. �Someone sent you two to fix the shower?�
�Well you see, we�re serving detention for Snape,� Ron began.
Harry picked up the thread. �Because we, uh, spilled that potion in, er��
�Potions?� Ron supplied. Harry hoped Malfoy had forgotten that Ron didn�t even take Potions anymore. �And I know all about showers because my dad likes Muggle things, like toasters and plugs.�
�And pipes,� Harry added, in case Malfoy knew anything more about plumbing than Ron. �So Snape has us fixing all the old pipes in the castle without magic for our detention. Which we are serving now. Here.�
�What a coincidence,� Malfoy said dryly.
Harry�s throat was very dry. �Right.�
There was an awkward silence in which Harry did not look at Malfoy. Much.
Ron shook his head at Malfoy. �Really, mate, could you put on some clothes?� He pulled out a wrench. �Some of us have work to do.�
Harry took a screwdriver out of Ron�s toolbox. �We�ll just fix your pipes then,� he said.
"And how exactly are you planning to fix my pipes?"
Harry froze. He couldn�t think of what to say. In fact the whole concept of words was this vast, foreign thing that had just slipped from his brain, possibly never to be recovered. Ever.
Ron didn't seem to share Harry�s problem. "It's simple, really," he said. "The technology behind the shower is very similar to the Muggle toaster��
Harry grabbed Ron by the collar and began to yank him toward Malfoy's shower. "We don't want to bore you."
"No," Malfoy said. "I suppose not."
Harry peered back around the corner. Malfoy had put on his school shirt and tie, although he hadn�t finished buttoning the shirt and the tie was still loosened from when he�d undressed before practice. Especially with his hair sticking up from where he�d toweled it dry Malfoy was looking really disheveled. Like he hadn�t taken a shower at all. Like he was still coming from practice, all sweaty.
And then Malfoy looked at Harry. Harry pretended to be casually perusing the wall around Malfoy. He didn�t think Malfoy bought it, since the wall was whitewashed. And uninteresting.
Harry couldn�t wait until he left.
Malfoy paused in the doorway. He turned around and looked straight at Harry. The expression on his face wasn�t quite a smirk, but there was something amused and mocking in it at the same time. He then either licked his lips or checked his mouth for cold sores with his tongue and Harry really hoped it was the latter even though that was sort of gross and a bizarre rationalization for Malfoy�s behavior.
Harry really couldn�t wait until he left.
�You owe me a shower, Potter,� Malfoy said and shut the door.
Harry and Ron looked at each other.
Ron swallowed. �Er��
�Yeah,� Harry finished.
----
Later that evening, Harry was feeling like a sex god.
�Oh, Harry, oh my god, oh Harry!�
A really, really good sex god.
�I never thought it could be like this. You are such a good kisser. Oh GOD!�
Really, really, really good sex god.
�I am soaking wet right now! Feel me, Harry, feel me. Touch me. Down There.�
Harry jerked away. �Uh, NO!�
Ginny stopped squirming. �What?�
�I mean, I would love to,� Harry said. �Sometime. In the future. Just not now. I, uh, have Quidditch practice, I just remembered.�
Ginny sat up. She had bedhead. Even though they were in a bush. They had told Ron and Hermione they were going on a �walk around the lake,� but, as usual, they hadn�t really done much walking. �Harry, I�m on the Quidditch team.�
Harry wiped his hands on his pants and then his mouth on his hand. �Uh, this is a special captains� practice. Just me and��
�You?� Ginny supplied. She tried to cross her arms and hit a branch instead. �This isn�t funny, Harry. No one makes me feel like you do...�
Harry really wasn�t listening. He stood up and fought his way out of the bush. Unfortunately, Ginny decided to follow. �...this relationship is special, Harry. How can you do this to me? At least have the decency to tell me the truth. There is no captains� practice, is there?�
At that exact moment, Draco Malfoy burst out of the Quidditch broom shed, buttoning up his pants. �Is it time for captains� practice?� he asked Harry, a real glint of panic in his eye. He was even more disheveled than he had been in the showers. Harry tried to find a wall to pretend to look at, but he couldn�t stop staring at Malfoy.
Pansy Parkinson, her skirt down around her ankles, fell out after Malfoy. Suddenly Harry understood.
�Yeah,� Harry said, �it�s, er, right over there by the lake. On the far side of the lake. We need to get in a boat and go there. Right now.�
�Right,� Malfoy said.
�Your fly is still unzipped,� Harry said. �Not that I was looking,� he told Malfoy.
�Draco, don�t leave me,� Pansy Parkinson whined, sounding exactly like Ginny. �I need you. We were having so much fun!�
�Okay, so maybe captains� practice does exist, Harry,� Ginny said. �But I�ll be waiting for you in your room right afterwards.� She winked at him.
�Boat,� Harry said to Malfoy. �We need a boat right now.�
�You mean like this boat,� Malfoy said, pointing to a little battered dinghy bobbing against the shore.
They made a run for it. Harry saw Ginny pick up Pansy�s skirt and hand it to her. Harry tried not to look at Pansy at all.
Harry didn�t exhale until they�d safely cast off and hidden themselves inside the dinghy�s tiny cabin. He sat down on one of the dozens of crates that covered the cabin floor. �Thank God,� he said.
�I don�t want you to think I always run away like this,� Malfoy finally said.
�Yeah, me neither,� Harry said hastily, really grateful for the cabin wall directly above Malfoy�s head.
�I really like Pansy,� Malfoy said. �I mean, look at her tits.�
�Yeah,� Harry grunted. �Ginny has a nice rack.�
�It�s just all her talk about feelings that makes me, uh, not want to��
�Yeah, Ginny never shuts up, and that�s why I don�t want to you know��
�I like tits,� Malfoy said.
�Yes,� Harry agreed. �They�re very squishy.�
Malfoy sat down on another of the crates, which promptly collapsed beneath him, sending him crashing onto the floor in a heap.
�Fat,� Harry said helpfully. This should have sent Malfoy into a fit of hysterics, but disturbingly Malfoy didn�t even seem to be paying attention to him.
�Brilliant!� Malfoy said. �Playwizard.� He held up a fistful of glossy magazines, the apparent contents of the crate he�d broken.
�What?� Harry said. �How?�
�Don�t you know anything, Potter? Playwizard has never been able to get into the castle by normal owl post. Dumbledore doesn�t approve. Or at least, that�s what he says. Snape tells me he keeps all the copies for himself. Actually, I don�t know how Snape would know that, but��
�Please. Stop,� Harry said.
Malfoy glared at him. �But I�d rather not know,� he finished. �No one knows how the people at Playwizard smuggle the magazine into Hogwarts to their subscribers. It always shows up on my pillow. I guess we found their boat. I wonder if my copy is here.� He began to paw around on the floor on all fours.
Harry was certain Malfoy had lost his mind. He was even surer of it when Malfoy emerged from behind a stack of crates, holding what Harry guessed was his Playwizard. Harry expected him to say something but Malfoy just sat down on a crate and started to read. He didn�t even look at him.
Harry was miffed. He didn�t even like Malfoy, but he should have had the decency to talk to him. He was just sitting there, reading. His shirt was partially unbuttoned from the incident in the broomshed with Pansy and he still hadn�t done up his fly. Harry thought about mentioning this, but he was too annoyed. Malfoy hadn�t even offered Harry the magazine. Harry and Ron had always shared Playwizard. Playwizard was a community experience. Trust Malfoy not to understand that. Yes, it was the magazine that was bothering him. Not the fact that Malfoy wasn�t looking at him. Or talking to him. Or being a general nuisance as usual.
�Give me your magazine,� Harry said.
Malfoy looked at him, narrowed his eyes, and then started reading again.
�Do you want to look at it together?� Harry said.
�Pervert,� Malfoy said.
�You�re the pervert, keeping it all to yourself.�
�Potter, there are a thousand magazines on the floor.�
�I want that one. Ron and I always share.�
�And you�re calling me a pervert?�
�Just give me the magazine,� Harry snapped, lunging for it.
Malfoy twisted out of the way. �What is the matter with you?�
�I just want to look at your magazine, damn it!�
�You can�t!� Malfoy said, kicking Harry in the face and running out of the cabin.
Harry struggled to his feet, tripped on a pile of Playwizard, and finally made it out the door. �Malfoy!� he yelled.
Something hit Harry on the head. He picked it up. It was a crumpled up piece of paper. He unwrapped it and saw it was the nearly naked witch with the broken shower. She smelled herself, made a face, and giggled at him. He quickly crumpled it back up again, just as Malfoy ripped another page out of his Playwizard and chucked it at Harry.
Even though Harry was sure Malfoy was just throwing papers at him, he unwrapped the balled-up sheet to see which page it was. The shower repairman wagged his eyebrows at Harry and told the nearly naked witch, �I�m going to get you soaking wet.�
Harry crumpled the page up just in time to see Malfoy bull-rushing him. He yelled but didn�t move quickly enough to avoid Malfoy�s attack.
Malfoy started pushing on Harry�s face. Harry didn�t know what kind of violent move this was really supposed to be, but it was painful, so he guessed it served its purpose. �There�s an article in there about repairing showers, Potter,� Malfoy said. �You should read it.�
�You were throwing it at me,� Harry managed to gasp, �before you threw yourself at me.�
�How did your shower repair job go?� Malfoy asked, slamming Harry�s head into the railing. �I know you were just in there to see me naked.�
Harry stopped struggling. �What?�
�Why you brought Weasley, though��
�That is not true,� Harry said. �I didn�t want to see you naked, and I like tits, and you aren�t even that good looking��
�Hey Potter,� Malfoy said, his voice suddenly husky, �remember how I said you owed me a shower?� He grabbed Harry by the scruff of the neck.
�What?�
Malfoy pulled him close. Harry shivered. Malfoy pushed Harry against the railing and boxed him in with his arms. Harry�s hands hung limp by his sides. He didn�t know what to do. Only one thought ran through his brain, over and over and over until he had to give it voice. �Your fly is still unzipped,� he said.
�Okay,� Malfoy said. He was so close his breath was hot on Harry�s face.
Somehow, Malfoy�s hand found its way to Harry�s belt buckle. Slowly, he undid it. Harry mouth went completely dry and his tongue stuck to his teeth like a dead thing. He was afraid to breathe as Malfoy leaned close, too close, and said, �I promise to get you soaking wet.�
And then Malfoy pushed Harry over the side of the boat.
Harry came up sputtering, flailing against the boat. �Malfoy! What the fuck?�
�That�s for you calling me fat!�
~~~~~~
Malfoy left him in the middle of the lake, so it took Harry about half an hour to swim back to shore. He didn�t really want to go back to Gryffindor for fear of Ginny, but he did need a shower. Badly.
So that�s why he found himself pounding on the door of the Slytherin common room. Because he needed something. Badly.
Luckily, a first year answered.
�I forgot the password,� Harry said, tucking his Gryffindor tie into his pocket and marching toward the stairs.
�That�s the girl�s dorm,� the first year meeped out.
�I also have amnesia,� Harry said. �Where�s the seventh year boy�s dormitory?�
�Top of the stairs on your left,� the first year said. �Aren�t you Harry Potter?�
Harry looked at the first year. �I transferred houses,� he said.
Harry was about to climb the stairs when Draco Malfoy popped out from behind an armchair. �Potter,� he said. And then, �Scram,� without even looking at the first year.
The first year scrammed.
A small silence descended and Harry leaned against the armchair, boxing Malfoy in against the wall.
�You owe me a shower,� Harry said.
�Okay,� Malfoy said. And smiled.
