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“My office.” As the last flame died out in the floo, Harry carefully scourgified his hands, leaving no trace of his recent activities.
Climbing the stairs, he schooled his expression into one of innocence.
“Headmistress.”
“This war of attrition has to stop. Apologise.”
Harry mumbled his way out, heading straight for the dungeons.
The door opened to his magic, steam and curses billowing from under the bathroom door.
Just as Harry widened the door enough to reveal blue stained buttocks through the shower screen, there was a bright explosion above his head.
“Glitter bomb. Snape 10, Potter 7.”