A/N: This gave me something to do in my boredom. Inspired by an incident involving me dropping my towel in the toilet the other day. Please forgive me for the corny parts.


Disclaimer: I doth not own. Thou suest me not.

Good Morning is an Oxymoron...Usually

I should have known that my morning would only get worse when I woke up with a headache and a cold.

Of course, the fact that I immediately fell off my bed when my alarm went off could have also been an indicator of a horrible day.

And then the other slightly ominous detail of me landing on a sleeping Crookshanks could have warned me as well. That cat is mean in the mornings. I swear I will never agree to keep him while Hermione is away again. I'm surprised I wasn't flayed alive, the way he attacked my back before dislodging himself and streaking out of my room.

I, of course, just stayed on the floor thinking…well…ow.

And then, when I had woken up slightly, it was…Damn bloody cat. Damn bloody cold. Damn bloody headache. Damn bloody floor. And so on and so forth. I really am not a morning person.

Anywho, I picked myself up off the floor, grumbling about, "Damn bloody work," and my, "Damn bloody boss," and stumbled into the bathroom. I turned on the shower and stuck my hand under the stream of water. It was freezing. Probably because my six older brothers had used it before me.

"Damn bloody brothers."

I undressed, wrapped myself in a towel and started to sit on the toilet seat, swaying slightly as I fought to keep my eyes open and stay awake as I muttered about, "Damn bloody cold water."

However, me being only slightly awake and much more than half asleep as I had not yet taken my shower, which was, undoubtedly, the only thing that could ever fully wake me up, I did not notice that previously mentioned six older brothers had neglected to put the seat down after using the toilet. And what happens when you try to sit down on a toilet seat, only to find that said seat is not down?

You fall in the toilet.

I fell in the toilet.

That, if anything, should have been a warning bell of the events to come. No, it should have been a bloody warning SIREN. Warning bells are small things like falling out of bed or having a cold. This was falling in the toilet.

Which, I realized, was not flushed.

With this realization, I squealed and squirmed violently, trying to get myself out of the toilet.


What To Do When You Get Stuck In A Toilet Plan A: Flail about hysterically.

So, I did. I flailed about hysterically, trying to de-wedge myself from the toilet's clutches. But apparently, our toilet likes eating little girls' bums, and it did not feel like relinquishing its grasp of my bum.

Plan A: Mission Failed.

So, I turned to my next available option.

What To Do When You Get Stuck In A Toilet Plan B: Scream for help.


I didn't have too much faith in this strategy, as everyone was probably already at work, and Mum was probably out gardening.

Plan B: Mission Failed.

So, I tried my next idea.

Actually, I didn't. Because I didn't have another idea. I was fresh out of ideas. All my ideas had either run away or flown out the window.

So I turned to What To Do When You Get Stuck In A Toilet Plan C: Cry your eyes out.

Yes, alright? I cried! You would too if you were stuck in a toilet full of pee and you had had a morning like mine. Plus, the pee smelled, and it had creeped its way up the towel until it was soaking the front as well.

Then my legs and back started to cramp up, and I cried harder. I mean, this was not just normal crying. This was open-mouthed wailing. Uncontrollable, gut-wrenching sobs. Tears pouring out of my eyes. Drool sliding out of the corners of my mouth. Snot coming out of my nose. I know, it's disgusting, but I already told you I had a cold! It's not my fault my snot glands were hyperactive at the time!

The ghoul rattled the pipes, and the toilet belched loudly. I let out a fresh wail at the reminder of my predicament and the fact that I didn't know if the damn thing had belched something else up. Something besides pee.


In the background of all my wailing and the shower running, I heard a knock on the door and a tentative male voice say, "Gin?"

I stopped wailing and sniffed, praying I had heard correctly.

The muffled voice sounded again, "Gin? Are you alright?"

YES! I was saved!

"NO! I've fallen in the toilet and I can't get out!"

There was silence on the other end of the door. And then, "Huh?"


Of course, while I was saying all of this, I was under the impression that it was one of my gits of brothers on the other side of the door. They had all seen me in only a towel or less at one point or another. It really couldn't be avoided when you lived with ten people under one roof in a house that only had one bathroom.

Imagine my surprise when it wasn't one of my brothers who Alohamora'd the door open and stepped inside, but none other than Harry Potter.

"Gin? What in the…" he looked at me stuck in the toilet and bit his cheek. I could tell he was trying not to laugh.

This started me in on a fresh set of wails. Harry Potter, my crush since forever, was looking at me in only a towel while I sat in a pee-filled toilet.

Admittedly, under normal circumstances, I would hardly expect one Harry James Potter to waltz in the bathroom door in order to respond to my plea for help. For one, he was not technically a Weasley. And for two, he should have been at Auror training with Ron. However, considering I was somewhat of a damsel in distress, I should have expected no less from the chivalrous hero that is Harry Potter. Really, I was quite stupid to expect any different.

Harry's presence at the Burrow was no more than torture for me. While he and Ron nursed their bruises from training and ate us out of house and home, I stood in the background and tried unsuccessfully to convince myself that no, he wasn't really that good looking. It had been easier when I was at Hogwarts, away from him and his sexy green eyes. But now I came back and lived under the same roof as him. And it didn't help that all that Auror training had toned out his body something wonderful.

But he mostly just ignored me. Sometimes I even felt like he might be avoiding me.

Which, after this toilet incident, I could definitely understand why.

Anywho, when he walked in, I started in on a fresh set of wails, and the amused look on his face immediately disappeared.

"Aw, Gin. Don't cry. I'll help you out. Don't worry."

He walked over to me. I was still sobbing uncontrollably. He grabbed my upper arms and hauled me out of the man-eating toilet with a squelch.

I stood before him, sniffling, clutching the soaking towel tightly around me tightly.

"Th-th-thanks, Ha-ha-har-rr-y," I sobbed, and then I looked up at him.

He wasn't looking at me. He was looking at the toilet, a look of disgust adorning his features.

I turned and looked at it as well.

I shrieked. Harry clamped his hands over his ears.


There, in the toilet, was something floating around. And it was brown.

I shrieked again, and jumped into the shower, towel and all, to cleanse myself of the nastiness. It was scalding.

I shrieked once again and dropped my towel. Then I jumped out of the shower, forgetting about Harry. Obviously.

We both stood there, shocked and frozen in place.

Harry looked at me, and then his eyes traveled down to my chest. His eyes went wide, and his mouth hung open. I think maybe if I had stayed still long enough, he might have started drooling.

I snapped out of it and shrieked again, grabbing the shower curtain and covering myself with it.


Harry snapped to attention and smacked his hands over his eyes, turning bright red. He whipped around and tried to run out of the doorway.

However, as the door had closed itself because it hated me, he succeeded in only smacking into it and falling to the floor, unmoving.

I gasped, and released the shower curtain, running over to him.

"Harry! Harry, are you okay?"

I kneeled beside him and brushed my hand on his face.

He groaned, and his eyes fluttered open. They widened, and then snapped shut again.

"I'm not looking! I swear!" he said.

That's when I realized that I was kneeling over him, entirely naked.

I shrieked once again and ran back over to the shower curtain, covering myself with it. I was doing a lot of shrieking that morning.

Harry groaned again and clutched his head when I shrieked. "Ow," he said.

"Are you alright?"

He glanced over at me, and I blushed. Then he blushed. I think even the shower curtain was blushing. It was a blush-fest.

"Ya, I'm fine," he mumbled, looking at his feet.

I shifted uncomfortably, "Umm..okay, well then, could you leave? I still haven't had my shower."

Harry blushed some more and mumbled, "Sure," before turning to the door and placing his hand on the knob.

He twisted.

It didn't move.

He twisted again.

It still didn't move.

Then he Alohamora'd it.

Still didn't move.

He bashed his big, strong, Auror-trained shoulder against it.

Uh-uh. No movement.

"Ummmm…I think I'm stuck in here. Door won't open," he said, refusing to meet my eyes.

Well, that was just wonderful, now wasn't it? I was stuck, naked no less, in a bathroom with Harry bloody Potter, Boy-Who-Conquered, the boy I had liked for the entirety of my boring, useless, pathetic life.


But you know, it really sort of made me mad that all this was happening to me. I mean, really. How much was I supposed to take? I could handle the cold and the headache. I could handle the falling off the bed. I could even handle being attacked by a mad cat. But I could not under any circumstances, handle being seen naked by Harry and then having to take a shower with him still in the bathroom while I was already mortally embarrassed.

No, I could not handle that!

I was starting to breathe heavily, and my eyes were darkening, a sure sign that I was losing my temper. Fast.

"Try it again," I commanded Harry.

He was twisting the knob, "I am trying."

"Try harder," I gritted through my teeth.

He twisted the knob again and then threw his hands up in defeat. "I'm sorry, Gin. It won't budge."

I let out a scream of frustration. "FINE!" I yelled, "FINE! I don't care if you're in here, I'm taking my bloody shower!"

With that, I turned around with the curtain still wrapped around me tightly, adjusted the water temperature, and stepped into the shower.

I heard Harry walk over to the toilet. Oh no…

"DON'T FLUSH IT!" I screamed.

Too late. A jet of scalding hot water emitted from the spout, and I was once again jumping out of the shower buck-naked.

Only this time I got tangled in the shower curtain and brought the entire contraption down with me as I fell out of the shower. I landed on Harry.

Of course. Since everything else had gone so spiffingly that morning.

At least I wasn't technically naked. I did have a shower curtain wrapped around me. Though, it was rather thin.

"Ugh!" we both said.

I glared at Harry. His glasses were crooked and fogged up from all the steam billowing from the shower.

He smiled sheepishly and wiped his glasses, "Errr…sorry?"

I narrowed my eyes some more, "Do you have any idea what my morning has been like, Harry?" I asked in a dangerous whisper.

He gulped and shook his head.

"It has been horrible, Harry. The worst," I continued in the whisper. My voice grew slightly louder as I started on my rant, "First off, I wake up with a cold and a headache. Not just one or the other. No no. Both. And then, I fell off my bed and onto Crookshanks who attacked my back and flayed me alive. AND THEN, I came down here to take a nice, peaceful shower and I FELL in the TOILET which WASN'T flushed!" I was really on a role now, gesticulating wildly even from my horizontal position, forgetting Harry was still lying beneath me, "AND THEN, none other than THE BOY OF MY BLOODY DREAMS walks in and has to PULL ME OUT of the damn TOILET! AND THEN that same boy saw me NAKED…" I trailed off as the realization of what I had just said hit me.

I snapped my eyes down to Harry, who looked a little more than shocked.

"Ummm, errr…I…you…didn't mean…say…oh dear Merlin, this morning is horrible," I said, blushing furiously.

Harry just stared at me for a second longer, and then he did the unthinkable.

He smiled.


I wondered if his brains were slightly addled from offing Old Moldie. It couldn't have been a very pleasant experience.

"Want to hear about my morning, Gin?" he asked.

Not particularly, no. But considering the fact that my voice box is out of order due to excessive mortification, I choose not to respond.

He continued anyway, "Well, it's been the best morning of my life, actually," I gaped at him, vaguely thinking that castration might have been justifiable. "I woke up slightly late because I forgot to set my alarm last night. I got up and started to come downstairs, but got sidetracked when I heard you crying and pulled you out of the toilet. You, of course, went a bit nutters at what you had been sitting in, and jumped into the shower. Thank Merlin that water was hot because it gave me the chance to see the GIRL OF MY BLOODY DREAMS completely naked. Every guy's fantasy," he smiled mischievously up at me while I gaped at him.

Was he making fun of me?

I jabbed him in the chest, "Are you making fun of me?"

In response, he grabbed my head, pulled it down to him, and kissed me like hippogriffs were extinct.

When he finally broke it off, he muttered huskily, "Did that seem like a joke to you?"

I was breathing hard, "No…d-definitely not a joke, that."

He smirked and kissed me again.

Ah yes, this is such a wonderful morning, isn't it?