The wonderful thing I love about showers, is that you get your desired privacy. Nobody will see you; if you keep the curtains closed. The windows are tainted so nobody can see inside. And unless you've invited someone in with you and if you keep the door locked, it is likely that nobody will barge in on you. That is one of the particular things I, Luna Lovegood, love about showers.

Nobody can see me. Only me. Nobody can say anything to me, or call me Loony, because they don't know I'm there.

But best of all, nobody can see me as I stand under the shower nozzle, the water beating down on my chest, and flowing down over my breasts (which are rather full if anyone had taken the time to look). Nobody can see me as I thow back my long mass of dirty blonde hair. Nobody can see me as I rub myself. Nobody can see me as my mouth falls open and a soft moan passes my lips. I have to be carefull. Nobody can see; but most can hear, suggesting one is not deaf.

Thats another thing I love. Even if one can hear your voice, and even if one was to see me, they would not know what was going through my mind, unless it was someone extremely talented in Occlumency. So nobody knows about the thoughts that turn me on so much that I retreat to the shower evey evening, sometimes four times a day. Because nobody knows about my dirty thoughts about Harry Potter. Hence my dry, scraggly hair, too much washing. Even before I met the whole crew.

Secretly, I like to imagine he is in here with me. Touching me gently, running his hands over my stomach from behind moving down toward my lower regons.

I know. Typical. Here's the twist;

In my mind. I am not myself. When -in my mind- I am in the shower with Harry, I am not myself.

I am really Draco Malfoy.

I moan softly as he grips my hard length, and strokes me. As if in slow motion, my head falls back agains his shoulder, were I fight to place a kiss against the nape of his neck. He begins grinding against my porcelain asscheek. His head falls back against the wall of the closed in space as he ginds harder against me, moaning quietly, as I had instructed, remember, keep quiet, people will hear.

He curses. "Fuck."

"Oh, god," I reply in my deep masculine voice, "Harry..."

Back in the real world, were I am alone -and female-, and continuing to rub myself. I notice the room getting warmer, I feel my knees beginning to give out, I feel myself twitsting nearly coming to my climax. I pause, my hands shaking, biting tightly onto my lip; my eyebrows knit. I came too close there, my fantacy isn't over yet.

In my mind, Harry is nibbling on my ear, he knows how I love that. He's still stroking my cock, and God, it feels good. "Alright?" he whispers huskily, I nod, supressing a loud moan as he grinds into me roughly, before stopping abruptly. I turn to him, "I--" he started but can't finish, my lips too quick, too demanding. I kiss him softly, which quickly turned to fiercely, my tongue slipping into his mouth and twisting around his and rubbing up against it.

Our throbbing erections brush together briefly, but its not enough for him, whatever I give him isn't enough. So I have to keep letting him lead so he can take all he needs away from me. Really in the end, I would've given it to him. He lifts me up and presses me against the wet wall of the shower. I am light so he can support me there.

By now in the real world; My dirty thoughts are turning me on so much I'm fingering myself too, and the slow pace is driving me mad, but I keep going. I love how this feels, this feeling that should be dirty, but because of the water, so clean. Another thing I love about showers. The water pours down on me, turning my flesh light pink, in my opinion, the colour of clean. I feel the water cooling slightly. I'm greatfull for that, although I know that means there is somone else in the next shower room, right near the one I am in. So I know that I can't make a sound. This is going to get harder. But its okay. Its unlike a current Malfoy impersonator to fail in anything he or she may attempt. Because Draco doesn't know how back in my fantacy I am very much like him.

Harry is asking-- begging for more. I sigh loudly and tilt my head back, "Than take more, Potter," I whispered silkily to him, biting tightly onto his neck; Harry lets out a surprised cry. "Oh god. Draco please can I just..." his hands slide down to stroke over my opening, I give a surprise gasp, he likes this but I refuse to give him the satisfaction so I whisper as seductively as I can manage into his ear, "Can you handle it?"

He clumsily prepares me for his entrence, trembling hands stroking me. He searches for what he thinks would be the best technique, the best motion, the best everything. And he is completely correct. Harry works me open and by the time I'm completely prepared I'm so hungry for the whole package I can scarcely handle the pleasure he is giving me. "Ready?" he whisperes unsteadily. I nod, and lick his neck, he shivvers and presses his stomach against mine. He gets us positioned the way his likes it. I wrap my legs around his waist, he inhails sharply and slides in easly. I hiss, blessing the water, and whatever other fluid may be present, because I can't imagine it without anything other kind of lubrication. I cry out briefly. Harry whispers comforting words into my ear, allowing my muscles to ajust to his size -which is undoubtedly quite thick.-

"Ready for more?"

"Please, Potter, I was bloody well born ready."

And gives me more. Oh fuck does he ever. I honestly spend seven minutes in heaven with Harry at first sliding gently all the way up to slamming roughly into me. He comes, and so do I, one who isn't Draco, the insane one, with the long dirty blonde hair instead of the short platnum blonde. This time my knees do give out, and I can't help but moan loudly. I feel my face turning scarlet, and the water cooling gradually. And nobody can see me, lying on the floor, my pale body in the steamy room. Nobody can see my body glittering and shining with moisture. Nobody can see me sprawled out on the floor.

Nobody.

But Harry Potter, who is standing in the doorway, who crawls in and lays next to me. I smile weakly up at him,

"What is your faveorite thing about showers?"