Post by Walden Conall Macnair on Oct 17, 2010 23:02:43 GMT 1
Alright so technically Walden wasn't a prefect, and strictly speaking that meant that he wasn't supposed to be in the Prefect's bathroom. After all, who in their right mind would make Walden a prefect, even among the Slytherin prefects who were admittedly, the most questionable of all the Houses. Walden however, had always maintained that he had been unfairly treated when he hadn't been made a prefect. Okay yes, there may have been a few unsavoury incidents with dislocating first years' shoulders for banging into him in the corridor, and the mysterious case of the missing bowtruckles in fourth year COMC. But everyone has some controversy. Walden always thought he'd make a brilliant law enforcer. Which is why he felt absolutely no guilt whatsoever about sneaking into the Prefect's bathroom whenever he fancied it. The boys' bathroom in the Slytherin quarters wasn't well maintained by the house-elves, who Walden had decided were lazy and biased against their house, and he had decided to only reserve that one for beating up people against the sink. The prefects bathroom was too nice for that sort of thing.
Of course he had had to threaten a rather impressionable Hufflepuff fifth year prefect to get the keys in the first place, but there had been no harm done. He'd copied them (again convincing someone else to do the complicated charms work involved) and handed them back. Nice as anything. He really was gentlemanly sometimes. So thanks to the rather spineless fifteen year old, Walden Macnair was currently enjoying a luxurious bath in the wide, almost swimming-pool size tub in the prefects bathroom. He could never manage to get the taps just right, there were far too many of them and he got confused, and most of the time he had to scrub himself vigorously to get rid of the overbearing effeminate smell of too much lavender, or strawberries. But today it didn't smell so bad, and Walden could relax in the knowledge that because he had now mastered the tap that controlled the bubbles, his bubble-free-bath was manly as possible. Which was good, because he had been playing one on one beaters practice with Mulciber (which was basically knocking the shit out of each other with bludgers) and now he was knackered.
Thankfully, Mulciber had gone to dinner afterwards so Macnair didn't have to make sneaky excuses to slink off for his bathtime. He usually shared most things with his best mate, but something told him Mulciber may not have understood his guilty, slightly girly pleasure. Kicking shut the door behind him with a rather muddy boot, Walden shrugged off his filthy Quidditch gear and, once naked, couldn't resist cannon bombing into the huge aromatic bath. That made it a bit more manly after all, Walden reassured himself as he sank into the water with a sigh, having successfully soaked most of the rest of the room with his splash.
Of course he had had to threaten a rather impressionable Hufflepuff fifth year prefect to get the keys in the first place, but there had been no harm done. He'd copied them (again convincing someone else to do the complicated charms work involved) and handed them back. Nice as anything. He really was gentlemanly sometimes. So thanks to the rather spineless fifteen year old, Walden Macnair was currently enjoying a luxurious bath in the wide, almost swimming-pool size tub in the prefects bathroom. He could never manage to get the taps just right, there were far too many of them and he got confused, and most of the time he had to scrub himself vigorously to get rid of the overbearing effeminate smell of too much lavender, or strawberries. But today it didn't smell so bad, and Walden could relax in the knowledge that because he had now mastered the tap that controlled the bubbles, his bubble-free-bath was manly as possible. Which was good, because he had been playing one on one beaters practice with Mulciber (which was basically knocking the shit out of each other with bludgers) and now he was knackered.
Thankfully, Mulciber had gone to dinner afterwards so Macnair didn't have to make sneaky excuses to slink off for his bathtime. He usually shared most things with his best mate, but something told him Mulciber may not have understood his guilty, slightly girly pleasure. Kicking shut the door behind him with a rather muddy boot, Walden shrugged off his filthy Quidditch gear and, once naked, couldn't resist cannon bombing into the huge aromatic bath. That made it a bit more manly after all, Walden reassured himself as he sank into the water with a sigh, having successfully soaked most of the rest of the room with his splash.
