The water and shampoo worked into a thick suds under his hands and George scrubbed, rubbed, tried valiantly to remove the last of the toffee from his hair. He couldn't imagine why Ron or Charlie would show up in the middle of the afternoon, but they'd just have to wait.
He turned, head into the spray, both hands against the wall as the hot water ran through his hair again, rinsing the shampoo down his body. God, this felt good...
Aunt Muriel's unmistakeable voice made him jump, and he could hear the smirk in her words. "Fuck..." The tiled shower left nothing to imagination, glass blocks replaced a curtain which he probably wouldn't have had closed anyway. He lived alone!
George stuck his face into the water, rinsing stinging soap from his eyes, then turned to look over his shoulder at her. "Nice to see you," he quipped, then reached to turn off the water. "Fancy handing me that towel?"