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She closed her eyes, sliding down into the scolding water; her slim figure engulfed in lavender-scented bubbles and Pomprey's vials. Amidst her peace, she could hear the faint grunts and deep chuckles that echoed from the Quidditch practice on the other side of the frosted glass window.
Glancing nonchalantly at the defensive spells book hovering above the tub from McGonagall, she reviewed the latest spell and its effects. At least they were still letting her read them. . .
Rosalie collected the washcloth from the wooden stool next to the tub, running it along the length of her body. McGonagall had been terrified that day; her weakened condition wasn't a sign of swift recovery. In fact, quite the opposite.
Graham hadn't left her side over the last week. . . until now. He'd let her into his quarters before practice so she could relax in peace. She couldn't deny it was a nice perk to dating the Quidditch captain, and the bath was much more private than the Prefect's bathroom.
Draco who'd been disapproving of her relationship at first, finally saw just how much Graham cared for his little sister. They were in a good place again and Draco had been the ever-supportive (but still annoyingly overprotective) brother she never knew she needed.
She glanced over at the varnished wood countertops, the fluffy emerald towels neatly arranged. With a flick of her wand, that rested on the stool with the now soaking cloth, the warm, inviting towels made their way towards her.
Standing up, they wrapped themselves so firmly around her body, she was sure they wouldn't come undone if she fell from the sky. The smaller emerald towel-dried the damp strands of her bun.
Rosalie stepped out of the bath, the frosty tiles weren't as inviting and Rosalie watch as the spell book now rested with her wand.
"Rosie?" The voice carried into the bathroom through the closed door.
"In here," she replied, muttering another simple spell to dry and style her hair into two dutch braids. Parfait.
Glancing at herself in the mirror, she caught his adoring ones staring back; the perfect mix of emeralds and sapphires. "How you feeling?" His voice was husky, clearly a side effect of the high altitude flying.
Rosalie held the towel closer to her body, slightly self-conscious. "Much better." She smiled back at him through the mirror, though he'd already closed the door enough for her to change in private. Il était tellement attentionné!
