Shower

"So, why are you up so late?" Harry asked again as they made their way towards the mansion. "Or is it considered early?"

"Early. Classes start in three hours." Jean replied without looking back at him. "I woke up and couldn't fall back asleep."

Harry nodded to himself in understanding, he suffered from very much the same problem. They had already reached the front doors of the mansion before he processed her earlier words. "Three hours!?" He half shouted; half whispered.

Jean turned to regard him with a raised eyebrow as she looked at him. "08:00 is the norm, there shouldn't be anything special tomorrow, right?"

"I wouldn't know anything about any norms, I literally just got here yesterday." Harry said. "Been here barely a day."

"It should be clearly written on your schedule." She said. "Someone should have given you one."

"Well, someone seems to have forgotten to do so." Harry sighed as they entered the mansion and began walking in a new direction, towards somewhere he hadn't been before. "Speaking of which, I don't know where I'm supposed to go for classes."

Jean brought a hand to rub her face in what he assumed to be annoyance. "They really didn't tell you anything, huh."

"Yup." Harry responded with a happy nod.

"I bet it was Logan's job." She muttered to herself. "That oaf never remembers to do this stuff."

Harry didn't know whose job it had been to inform him of his schedule or give him a tour of the mansion, but whomever they had been, they had evidently done a very thorough job, as he knew next to nothing.

With a smile on his face, he walked next to Jean who was still guiding him along the hallways towards what he assumed were either the showers or clean clothes, either option sounded good.

"Guess you'll be my unprepared guide, glad to have you aboard." He said towards the red-haired girl.

She stopped abruptly in front of a door, glanced at him and then pointed at a door next to the one she was standing in front. "That's the boy's changing room. I'll show you to the classrooms we use after you've washed yourself."

Harry nodded and basically burst into the changing room. The clothes on him reeked of blood and now that he wasn't single-mindedly focusing on gaining a hold on his newfound strength, he could smell the disgusting tang of iron.

He looked around the room, and aside from the standard lockers and benches to sit on, there was nothing special that would have told him that he was inside a freaking mutant school. He had expected something that would have told him the case was as such, but there was nothing like that.

There was a shelf full of clothes that looked fresh, smelled clean and were neatly folded. There were at least ten pairs of clothes there.

'Jean did say they had a lot of spares, damn.' Harry thought to himself.

It made sense, there were probably mutants studying here who ripped their clothes with their mutant abilities. Maybe there was even a power that consumed clothes to produce some sort of effect. It sounded ridiculous, but so did a mind being fractured in two, yet here he was, a living proof of such an occurrence.

Harry disregarded such thoughts as he grabbed a pile of clothes from the shelf and headed towards the showers. He put down the fresh clothes on a bench near the showers and took off the bloody ones, which he promptly threw into a basked next to the showers.

He pitied the poor soul who tried to get those blood stains off them. They must have already fused with the fabric; it wasn't a pretty sight. Even as Harry himself looked at them, he was a little put off by the blood, and it was his for crying out loud.

He wondered why Jean hadn't shown any indications of being uncomfortable with walking besides someone who was pretty much caked in blood. If she had been disturbed, she had hidden it well enough that he couldn't detect even a hint.

The cool water ran down his skin, the room filling with the sounds of a shower running. The clear water that was running from the shower turned a shade of red as it ran down his body and splattered onto the floor, before draining out.

If Harry had walked on someone washing blood off themselves in such great quantities as he currently was, he would have been rightfully worried. He hoped that no one would come by before he was done, even though there was a pretty low risk as most people seemed to have still been asleep. He had spent quite a lot longer outside trying to run than he had meant to.

Most of the blood that could be washed with just water had already been swept away, so he grabbed the bottle of shampoo that seemed to have been placed in each individual shower. It was cheap and would smell bad, no doubt about it, but it would have to do.

Harry released a sigh of relief as the last traces of blood were washed away before stepping out of the shower, drying himself off with a random towel he had grabbed. He donned the fresh clothes.

They were pretty much the same he had worn earlier, a grey t-shirt, a grey pair of pants, a pair of grey socks and a grey hoodie.

The shampoo actually smelled quite good. He had been wrong about that; the school had evidently invested in a quality one instead of getting a cheap product.