Looking at the shampoo for several seconds like it was some kind of foreign object he had never seen before, Harry eventually bent down and grabbed the bottle, putting it back where it belonged.
What followed was Harry's body automatically reacting in the way it usually did for his morning routine. Despite what had happened with his last few attempts, Harry pointed over to the bar of soap.
It should be no surprise that the soap practically flew from where it was situated, nearly hitting Harry in the face before his hand shot out and managed to catch it.
With a small, discontent frown, Harry finished cleaning up. He lathered his body with soap then rinsed it off. By now steam was beginning to rise from his body as his magic reacted to the cold water and began heating him up like it usually did when his temperature was too cold. With a small sigh, the young Potter heir finished his shower by turning off the water and stepping out.
Now dripping wet, Harry began walking over to the mirror. Once again, instincts kicked in and Harry pointed at the towel, which soon came flying off the rack and this time the object ended up smacking him in the face. Giving an irritated grunt, he pulled the towel off, absently glad that at least it was a towel his face had been smacked with and not a bar of soap or bottle of conditioner.
Looking at himself in the mirror, Harry took note of the dark bags under his eyes. It was the price he paid for using the time turner to go back eight hours in time every day for nearly a week. He wondered if this was what jet lag felt like when it was increased by a factor of ten.
Shaking such thoughts off as inconsequential, Harry stumbled his way back into his bedroom.
The first thing he did upon entering his room was open his trunk to the potions compartment and grab one of his modified pepper up potions. It would give him exactly eight hours of energy, enough to get through half his day, without suffering from a serious crash that standard pepper up potions caused. It was only a temporary solution, but it would have to do for now.
As steam began pouring out of his ears, Harry got himself dressed in a pair casual clothes, plain jeans and a t-shirt. He then grabbed his wand, his alchemy notebook filled with all the transmutation circles he had sketched out, his mother's wand, and finally, the portkey Nicolas Flamel had created for him.
"Alchemy."
Harry was coming to greatly dislike almost all forms of magical transportation, apparition being the one exception it seemed. The floo network tended to shoot him out like a muggle rocket fired from a bazooka, which was neither pleasant nor graceful, and now he had to deal with portkeys, which felt like a hook was latching onto him behind his navel and literally yanking him into a dizzying array of lights and color. Harry Potter would not be at all surprised if this was what most people saw when they were under the effects of hallucinogenics. It was that unpleasant.
Thankfully the trip only lasted for several seconds. Not so thankfully, Harry still couldn't quite compensate for the sudden appearance of ground underneath his feet and stumbled slightly before righting himself.
"Good morning, amore."
He was not alone. Standing in the entryway to the Flamel Manor was none other than Selene Gallio Dracul, the vampire he had rescued that had just woken up the day before. The one who made his body feel the most unusual, unwelcome, but strangely pleasant sensations he had ever experienced to date.
The one who was currently standing so close to him that he actually jumped back in shock. How had she gotten so close? He had not even seen her move!
"Did you sleep well?" asked Selene as she moved forward again to close the distance between them. She grabbed onto his left arm, her right arm lacing through it while her left hand lightly caressed his forearm. The skin contact sent a jolt through his body, a tingle that traveled up his arm, down his back all the way to his toes. So intense was the feeling that he did not protest when she led him out of the entryway and up the double helix staircase.
"I slept... well," even with his mind somewhat on the fritz, his body was pre-programmed well enough to respond to such a simple inquiry without needing to really think about it. Then he remembered it was common courtesy to return the question. "And you? How did you sleep?"
Selene offered him that smirk that had done him in so easily last night. Even now, it still effected him for some reason.
"I slept well, amore. Thank you for asking."
Harry was able to snap out of his fugue a little at her words. He frowned.
"Don't call me that."
"Why?" her smirk widened. "Do you not like it?" Harry would have answered, but at that moment Selene pressed her body against his.
.
.
.
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