Bathwater

The Complete Story of the Ferret

[AN: Hey, guys! Welcome to the end of Bathwater. Thank you so much for getting here. Fortunately, the story continues. The sequel Simple Kind of Life is ready for you guys to enjoy, so please check it out. Thank you for all the love and support.]

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"Once upon a time in a faraway castle there was an intelligent girl with extraordinary powers that met a white, fluffy, bouncing ferret." A gentle voice filled an empty living room. "Now, the ferret was actually a very nasty boy who deserved everything he got in the years to come. Then, one day, two years after they met, the girl got so enraged with the bouncing creature and his git-ways that she had no choice but to slap him across his disgusting face because—"

"What the bloody hell are you doing?" Draco Malfoy entered the room carrying a cardboard box, a frown creasing his sweaty forehead. He had managed to catch the term "ferret" more than once from outside the hall.

With emerald eyes gleaming bright with mockery, Harry Potter said, "I'm telling a story. What does it look like?" He adjusted his glasses, settling himself into a more comfortable position on the chair he had been sat on for over twenty minutes.

 "Shouldn't you be helping with these boxes, Potter?" Draco quipped, his frown still stuck on his pale face. "I'm sure I didn't bring you here so you can sit around and tell lies about me."

 Harry scoffed, throwing his feet on top of the nearby tea-table. "Oh, I'm sorry, Malfoy. I was under the impression that I didn't sign up to be your house-elf for the day." He smirked now. "If you don't mind, I would like to continue the story of the greatest bouncing ferret that the Wizarding World has ever known."

 Turning away from Potter, Malfoy dropped the box angrily on the ground and narrowed his eyes at another. "And what are you doing?" (Bloody good-for-nothing Chosen One. What was his purpose in the world if he was not going to help? Certainly it wasn't to sit around and have his stupid eyes roam around, observing people as they did the heavy work.)

 "Nuffin'," a redhead replied casually at Malfoy's nasty hiss, shrugging as he attempted to swallow a handful of Bertie Bott's Every Flavored Beans while laying lazily on a couch by Harry's chair; a bundle of pale-blue  on his chest. "You?"

 "Attempting to bring all these sodding boxes from that Muggle monstrosity you call a car!" the blonde wizard growled, restraining himself from aiming a curse at the redhead and disturbing that bundle laying on him.

 At the blond's yell, Ron patted the blue bundle carefully as he swallowed the rest of his sweets. "Well, you've got to blend in, don't you?"

Draco could feel his blood vessels fill with hatred. Why did he ever promise Hermione that he would not kill or severely maim Potter's sidekick?  "Choke on your spit, Weasel."

"Uh-oh," Harry dragged out, placing on an award-winning smirk on his face as Ron gave out one loud chuckle as he reached for more sweets from the tea-table. "Someone's a bit aggravated. What do we do with boys who throw bratty tantrums inside of the house?"

"We discipline them!" Ron cheered, whipping out his wand and trying to look ruthless as he shoved the beans into his mouth without taking a breath.

Harry shook his head theatrically, all to keep adding to Malfoy's anger. "No, that's not it."

"Shut it, Potter," warned Draco.

A short, thin arm shot up in the air as Harry waited for the right answer.  "He's got to use his inside-voice first!" A squeaky voice exclaimed.