All Bets Are On...

Nearly Headless Nick (or as he much preferred, Nicholas D'Flimsy) dipped his toes timidly into the prefect bathroom's pool to test the temperature of the water. Perfect. Putting his hands together Nick prepared to make a graceful dive. He ended up making a loud (and much less graceful) bellyflop instead.

Every one in awhile a ghost deserves a little pampering at other's expense. Nick had made sure to come early in the evening while the students were having their dinner-eight o'clock to be exact-just to make sure none of the prefect's bothered to come in.

Whenever they saw him taking a bath in the pool, they always had to bother him with ignorant questions. "Why do you wear your clothes when you bathe? " was the most popular of them all, followed by "Can you actually feel the water? Or do you just feel air since it goes right through you? "

Didn't they learn anything at Hogwarts anymore? He was a GHOST. It wasn't as if he could just step out of his clothes. Ghost's wardrobes were pretty much confined to what they had worn the day they died. Just look at the bloody baron, for goodness sakes! Hmpph. Those students could use a good lesson in tact.

Nick sank into the bubbling and boiling water with a sigh. He began using a bar of soap to scrub at his back (or his chest, it's hard to differentiate between the two when you're transparent.) After thoroughly lathering himself, he back stroked across the length of the pool, spitting water out of his mouth like a fountain.

He had been an excellent swimmer in his day. Not that he had much choice. When one gets thrown into a moat, one becomes an excellent swimmer very quickly. Nick swam a couple of laps back and forth across the pool before deciding to get out.

There was a batch of fluffy towels in the corner but he didn't reach for one. Towels really wouldn't do a ghost any good, going through him and all..he would just have to air dry.

Nick was halfway across the room when he spotted Moaning Myrtle sitting three plastic recliners away calmly staring at him from over the top of Witch's Weekly.

"Ahhhhh! "

Forgetting he was a ghost and therefor had nothing to worry about in the naked department, Nick swiped his pink polka dotted bath cap off his head and placed it strategically in front of him.

"What in Merlin's name are you doing here? In a BOY'S bathroom, might I add? "

Moaning Myrtle marked her place (twenty five ways to get rid of those pesky zits) in her magazine before looking up at Nick again.

"Oh, I moved from the girl's bathroom, didn't you hear? No I suppose you didn't. No one probably even notices I've left. It's just like when I died. "

Myrtle gave a little sniffle and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand.

Nick groaned. Not this again.

Myrtle had almost once gotten to be Hufflepuff's ghost before the fat friar came along. The job position had been turned out of Myrtle's favor when Proffessor McGonagall had said if she had to hear moaning myrtle moan three meals a day in Hogwart's Great Hall as Hufflepuff's ghost, she would have to make it a habit to begin wearing ear muffs.

No matter if she was ghost or person, Myrtle had to be the singularly most annoying around. Nick, anticipating being stuck while Myrtle went into a three hour "oh pity poor me " session (she had been known to do as much before) tried his hand at comforting her.

"Now now, I'm sure all the first years are simply howling at the loss right this minute. "

Moaning Myrtle looked at him hopefully through a few tears. "You think so? "

Nick handed her one of the conviently nearby towels to blow her nose with. She did with a loud honk.

"Errm. Sure. Your companionship in the bathroom, is- I'm positive-sorely missed."

Nick fibbed, not mentioning the conversation he had heard earlier between two of the first years.

( "Is Moaning Myrtle really gone at last?" "Yep. Finally I can go in there without her hanging over the edge of the stall to whine at me. "

"Eww..she didn't well.. actually watch you go the bathroom, did she?" )

Myrtle smiled slightly. "I did always keep the bathroom floor nice and clean for their feet by overflowing the sinks" (and the toilets, thought Nick. )

She stared at Nick in a way that made him most uncomfortable. "You don't have to do that. You're a ghost."

"Do what?" Nick asked.

He wondered if it would be polite to simply run out of the prefect's bathroom as fast as he could. Moaning Myrtle was really starting to scare him. Or continuing to scare him, seeing as she had sort of scared him all along.

Moaning Myrtle pointed at his bath cap still placed in front of him.

"That. You can't see anything anyway." She said this a bit too wistfully for Nick's taste.

"Oh." Nick felt foolish and stupid. Of course you couldn't!

After a few minutes of trying to find somewhere to put his bathcap, he gave up (he couldn't very well put back on his head and he didn't have any pockets on his elaborate outfit) and clenched it at his side in one hand. Nick had completly lost his usually dignified air..though it was hard to have one to begin with when you sported a pink polka dot bathing cap and a rubber ducky.

"So.. why did you move here anyway? " asked Nick, trying to draw attention away from his aformentioned accessories. Just imagine if the word got out!The house elves would probably try and steal his rubber ducky, not to mention that he would lose whatever chance he had of joining the headless hunt..unless they wanted him as a jester.

"Well-I wanted to take the boy's bathroom, but it's already haunted," said Myrtle.

Probably to see Harry. Poor guy. I feel sorry for him. Better tell him the cost is clear so he knows he doesn't have to avoid the bathroom like it's Madame Pomfrey's infirmary, thought Nick.

"So I took the prefect's bathroom instead" Myrtle continued, "It has much better scenery."

She put the empasize on "much" and gave a little very uncharacteristic giggle. Nicholas knew exactly what "scenery" she was talking about, alright. Twenty or so different boys coming into the baths each day.

Myrtle must be overflowing with joy. Good, maybe now she would stop complaining loud enough for the whole four floors below her to hear.

"I do miss the girl's gossip though. And that nice chap that used to visit-Harry."

Nicholas, in spite of himself, perked up at the words "gossip" and "Harry". He never found out a whole lot about the comings and goings on with Hogwart's students. Not even the ones in his own house. He roomed with the fat friar and the fat friar didn't exactly have tons of juicy new to share. Not to mention that most of Hogwart's students would have a swallowed a filbuster firecracker whole before telling him anything.

In spite of this, he had (foolishly, he realized now) made a bet with Peeves the night before regarding a rumor Peeve's had heard.

"Gossip? What gossip? "

"All kinds. They would talk while they stood around the mirrors. I don't really see the point of going to the bathroom when you don't even go near the stalls-they were probably just all avoiding me." Myrtle's eyes became watery again and she dried them with her crumpled up towel.

Nick wanted to ask Myrtle about a particular rumor-one pertaining to two particular people-not that he was sure there was one, but well, he had noticed things...

"Any specific kind of gossip lately? "

"Since when are you interested in the gossip of a bunch of pre-teenage girls?"

"Since now" Nick said shortly, thinking he might just ask the fat friar instead of Myrtle. It was humilating to admit to actually paying attention to such a petty thing, either way. That stupid git Peeves. This was one hundred percent his fault.

Myrtle blinked at him through her murky glasses. "The girls usually talk about Harry. I wonder what they'd say if they knew he used to visit me-He even sat on toilet seat of my toilet once." Myrtle's eyes misted.

"Only to perfom some magic transforming spell, though," she added, seeing Nick's disgusted face.

He really did not need to hear about this, but if they were talking about Harry, maybe he could find out exactly...

"What kind of rumors about Harry?"

Myrtle looked at him sharply. "I still don't see why you want to know so badly, but alright, I'll tell you. There was one the other day that he wears boxers with little hear-"

Leave it to Myrtle to remember the ones about Harry's boxer collection. Nicholas cleared his throat.

"No,no, not that kind!Any gossip about Harry..and..umm..girls?"

"Naturally. None of them have a bit of truth to them." Not a bit.

Harry would never date anyone, thought Myrtle. She hoped not. Too bad she had moved out of the girl's bathroom, maybe he would have come to pay her another visit again. The only other boys that had ever entered besides him were those two red haired twins-and that was to steal her favorite toilet seat.

She frowned. "Harry and Ginny. Harry and Cho. Harry and Lavender. Harry and Hermione. Pretty much every girl's been linked to him at least once," Myrtle admitted begrudgingly.

"Him and Hermione?" Peeves smiled to himself. "Most interesting. I thank you for divulging this information to me." Hah! Peeves was going to owe him money big time! That would show him to place bets!! Wait..It was just a rumor, Nick reminded himself. Until the rumor became fact, he wouldn't be getting so much as one knut from Peeves. Even if it was true he would have to personally blackmail Peeves before he would part with his money.

"Bunch of tosh, all of it" snapped Myrtle, put out. The idea of Harry with someone else was not exactly a pleasant one. "Hermione and that other boy, what's his name? Ah yes, Ron. I used to hear them shout at each other all the time from my bathroom stall. They're far more likely to get together."

"You just don't like the idea of Harry being connected with someone other than your toilet seat" Nick muttered.

Myrtle began crying. "I-I-If your going to make fun of me, you had better get o-out of h-h-here now."

Nicholas was rapidly losing his temper. Did Moaning Myrtle have to be on the verge of tears every five seconds?

"I hope you don't wake up everyone within a five mile radius with your whining when Harry and Hermione get together then" mumbled Nick softly under his breath as he began walking towards the far wall.

"THEY WON'T! " Myrtle yelled at him, obviously catching what he hadn't meant for her to hear. Nick winced. Her yelling was just as loud as her complaining. "HERMIONE HAS TO GO WITH RON! "

Myrtle must have steeped in the sauna for too long, decided Nick. He was glad there was a good twenty five feet between him and what he deemed a ghost on the way to being absolutely barking mad.

"I'm afraid they won't. You're just setting yourself up for a dissapointment if you don't face the facts, " Nick said.

"HOW MUCH DO YOU WANNA BET?" shouted Myrtle, who was rapidly leaving being absolutely barking mad and approaching absolutely barking multi personality mad.

Nick, already envisioning the bag of sickles that would fall into his hands from Peeves if the rumor prooved to be true, suddenly imagined another bag being added to the first one. "Fourty sickles enough? "

Myrtle dropped her mouth open in surprise. "Are you serious? "

"Yup." Nick gave a huge grin, making his head swing a bit lopsided.

"Enough to buy you a year's subscription to witch's weekly and get you Bobber's Pimple Pricking Treatment."

Myrtle didn't even noticed the words "pimple pricking".

"Is it a deal? "

She didn't hesitate either. "A deal."

"Right. I'll watch them- since I am the Gryffindor ghost after all-and we'll see who gets together with whom."

Myrtle glared. "Oh no you won't. How do I know you won't just make something up to get the money? "

Nick was abashed at her for even thinking such a thing. "Fine. How about Peeves will watch them then? "

Myrtle was still a bit dubious, but she nodded anyway. "That seems fair..well, if you can actually make Peeves do anything."

"I have my ways," Nick said mysteriously.

"Out," Myrtle said all of a sudden.

"Beg your pardon? "

"You better get out. Someone- or several someones- are coming."

Sure enough, Nick heard a series of footsteps outside the hall heading toward the prefect's bathroom.

"I need my privacy. Out." Myrtle restressed her statement again.

"What you really mean is you just want to be able to stare at the prefects in peace."

If she hadn't been a ghost and a sewage-y sort of gray color, Nick was pretty sure Myrtle's cheeks would have been turning flame red.

"I'm afraid you can't come here anymore. Only one ghost haunting each room. It's one of the rules, you know."

"I don't come here to haunt. I come here to take a bath" Nick snapped before floating through one of the walls opposite.

< That Myrtle was insufferable!Oh well, at least he would be rich.

Hermione and Ron together?Forget it. > Myrtle floated off to stand behind the rack of towels, ready to give the prefect a nasty shock when he got done with his swim and reached for one.

< I'm going to be rich!Hermione and Harry?Never. He sat on my toilet seat after all, didn't he? > ***************************

Meanwhile, five floors, eight staircases, three landings, and thirty five portraits away, Ron and Hermione had just finished another one of their infamous big fights.

The slam of the door to the Gryffindor common room resounded multitudes of times inside of Ron's aching head. Bugger. Why did Hermione have to be.so..so..so..reasonable? It was nearly impossible to argue with someone who was almost always right. And reasonable to top it all off.

Especially when Ron was feeling very unreasonable. Sticking Vicky's Broom Up a Place It Shouldn't Go kind of unreasonable.

Mostly when Hermione argued, Ron just stood back, yelled as loud as he could several incoherent things, then felt his hair practically blown straight back when Hermione yelled even louder right in his face.

Harry had been standing there the whole time the two of them were at it and was now looking at Ron with a not very well hidden expression of amusement.

You wouldn't find it so funny if she was yelling full blast at you, thought Ron darkly. But the closest Hermione had ever come to either verbally or physically abusing Harry was when she had accidentally dropped the two thousand page magical encyclopedia on his toe. Now THAT had been hilarious.

Fred and George had also been privy to the whole argument and actually were looking at Ron with what appeared to be astonishment. Strange. But then that was the kind of people the twins were to begin with. Too bad he hadn't threatened to throw an exploding malt ball at her or something. His brothers would probably have been full of admiration. Either that or they would have told him to "catch" and thrown one at him.

"Phew. You know, If Hermione slams this door one more time, it'll be in serious danger of breaking altogether. I wonder how many people exactly heard you two shouting? " said George.

Ron glared at them.

"Oh I wouldn't worry," said George. "Probably only the people in Gryffindor-"

" -and the rest of the houses-" added Fred.

"-the whole of Hogwarts-"

"-the whole of England-"

"Why, people in Australia are probably using the hoarse shouts of Hermione as a wake up call," said George.

Ron's glare lessened a small fraction. A very small fraction. "Hoarse shouts? Loud, extremely grating high pitched shouts that resemble the noise a banshee makes when it stubs its toe is more like it. "

"That's a bit rich coming from you, Ron. If she sounds like a banshee then you sound like a very pissed monkey," Ginny replied, sticking up for Hermione. After she spoke, she went out in a way similiar to best friend's recent exit, slamming the door so hard the door frame shuddered.

Harry, grinning, tried to get Ron in a better mood as well by telling him of the worst thing he could think of that had happened to Viktor that day.

"Oh come on Ron. I know just what will cheer you up. Krum scraped his head trying to get into class today. Last time I saw him coming out of the infirmary, he had a bump on his forehead the size of an egg."

Krum shouldn't have been in class at Hogwarts at all, thought Ron. He should be far away at his school with the glaciers, polar bears, and penguins. That was what he and Hermione had started this whole arguement over anyway. Vicky switching schools. As Ron had told Hermione before they started shouting, he had nothing against Vicky switching schools and discovering new experiences..as long as it wasn't HIS school.

"Probably the size of his brain as well," moaned Ron.

"Hope you didn't say that to Hermione". Harry looked at him. "You didn't, did you? "

"Yeah. More or less."

"Ouch."

George and Fred snickered. "In that case, you're very lucky you don't have a gigantic imprint of one of Hermione's textbooks smashed into your face."

"Krum and Hermione can't get together, too many communication problems" said George, busy in one corner with Fred- making some new ultimate kind of dungbomb, judging from the way strange colored explosions went off every few minutes.

"Yeah. Krum would say 'vat is that, Herm-oh-ninny? ' and she would think he told her go and boil her head in a vat. Trust me, it would never work between the two."

Fred pretended to think. "Well I wouldn't be so sure. I mean, what if Hermione knowns Bulgarian? "

George and Harry said the same thing at the same time. "Shut up."

"Why are you so concerned about Viktor and Hermione anyway if you and her are just friends?" mused Harry. But it was too late. Ron had already stamped off to the Gryffindor boy's dormitories.

Fred sighed. "Ah, the harsh woes of young love."

Harry ruined his moment. "Hah! Whereas you and Angelina are soo much older and sophisticated than both of them."

George laughed. "If you consider staking out closets to snog in sophisticated, then yes, I agree completely."

Harry snickered before going back to reading his much thumbed and reread Quidditch Through The Ages. A secret insecurity wouldn't go away though and finally he took his nose out of the book, determined to get rid of it once and for all.

Walking over to Fred and George, he stood gingerly to one side as the small array of multi colored sparks continued to admit from their "experiment".

"I've been thinking and..you don't think Ron likes Hermione, do you? "

George stopped tinkering with the small, apparently quite volatile object to speak to Harry.

"Oh no. And I don't believe the sky is blue either." He shook his head before going industeriously back to work. "It's obvious."

"Oh. Oh. Yes, I suppose it is," said Harry miserably before going back to the sofa, where he would spend the next hour or so reading the same page of Quidditch Through The Ages over and over.