His Shirt

Harry didn’t realise just how torturous listening to Lavender and Parvati could be.

He couldn’t concentrate. Their giggles and twitters were supremely irritating. Harry would have much preferred the misfortune of being a captive audience of Uncle Vernon giving his opinion on how to deal with people who didn’t trim their garden hedge.

Harry Potter was busy making agonisingly little progress on his latest mediocre Potions essay. He was just wondering where Hermione was when they entered the common room. Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil were deeply engrossed in Girl Talk and holding a magazine. For a wild moment Harry thought it was a Witch Weekly. It wouldn’t have surprised him.

Harry shifted in his seat and gave mild grimace. The shirt he was wearing was the last clean one he had, and it was scratching his skin and making it itch uncomfortably. He was certain that he had had at least one other clean shirt, his favourite shirt actually, but he couldn’t find it anywhere. So he was wearing this stiff, itching shirt, glaring at his pale imitation of an essay and listening to Lavender and Parvati chirp. This was putting him in a rather irritable mood.

Then Harry noticed exactly what Lavender was carrying and what they were talking about. He really should have left the common room that instant. However, for perhaps the first time ever in Harry’s life at Hogwarts; Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil had his complete attention.

Curse them. Curse them and that lingerie catalogue.

‘Skip the pyjamas, Lavender! They’re useless!’ Parvati shrieked as she made to reach for the booklet.

Lavender moved it out of her reach as she was flicking through the pages. ‘Parvati, how well do you know me? Of course I’m skipping the pyjamas. Honestly, what guy is going to be interested in pyjamas?’

Hermione looks cute in pyjamas, he thought. What’s wrong with pyjamas?

‘Ah, here we are … what do you think, slip or chemise?’ Lavender pointed at the open page.

‘Oh, definitely a slip! Look at that black one there!’

‘What, this one? The one that laces up at the sides?’

‘Yes!’

‘That one is nice … but you wouldn’t be able to wear underwear with that one …’

‘So?’

Parvati and Lavender exchanged a grin.

‘Point taken,’ Lavender replied and they burst into a fit of giggles.

Harry, being a guy, may not have had any idea what difference there was between a slip and chemise if any, but his imagination didn’t seem to find this a constraint on the imagery he was having right now.

Hermione in a black lace up slip …

Harry loosened his collar in annoyance. Not now. The essay dammit, the essay.

He bent his head low over his work and tried to shut out Lavender’s and Parvati’s squeals.

‘Oooh! There’s a full length version!’

‘With a thigh-high side-slit!’

Harry’s head hit the table with a dull thunk. His image of Hermione had just been successfully modified.

Perhaps it would do well for him to be disturbed that he seemed to share the same taste in lingerie as Lavender and Parvati. Then he wondered if Hermione shared their taste also. Dammit.

Hermione in a full-length night-gown with thigh-high side slits …

Harry’s eyes closed. What essay?

‘Look at the robes Lavender! Especially that satin kimono style one! Although I think it would look so much better in purple don’t you?’

‘Purple would be better but don’t you think it’s a little … baggy?’

Parvati made a great, theatrical sigh.

‘That doesn’t matter, if you leave the front parted just enough.’

‘Oh! How stupid of me! Of course, I see exactly what you mean!’

Hermione in a satin kimono …

Harry’s breathing changed. Those curves …

‘What about those?’

‘You mean the babydolls? Some of them are a bit much, don’t you think?’

‘The flyaway one looks OK though.’

‘Flyaway?’

‘Yes, that one there. See how it has the extra material that makes it look like a half-babydoll, half-bra? Like a curtain for the waist.’

‘Ah, well, that can look good I suppose, it gives a nice peep-show effect, doesn’t it? However I’d prefer a different colour, like ivory.’

Hermione in a babydoll …

Harry’s hand disappeared under the table.

‘What about fishnets?’

‘Nah that would be overdoing it …’

Harry begged to differ, however he was not supposed to be listening. Besides, he had other things to do.

Hermione in fishnets …

Harry’s hand slowly made its way towards --

‘Harry?’

Harry nearly jumped out of his chair. His eyes snapped open. Ron was looking at him inquiringly, with a hint of concern.

‘Ron!’ he choked out.

‘Are you OK Harry? You looked like you were gonna pass out. That, or …’ something lit up in Ron’s eyes, as if he had suddenly understood something. Ron looked as though he was fighting back a chuckle and settled for a smirk before speaking again.

‘Harry, you’ve been working too hard. You look tired. Go to bed and relax. It’ll do you much better than slaving over an essay Snape’s going to fail you on anyway.’

Not noticing the amusement in Ron’s voice, Harry answered distantly, ‘Yeah, I think bed would be a really good idea, this essay of Snape’s will wait until tomorrow,’ and with that, Harry stood up, gathered his things and headed upstairs as quickly as he could without arousing suspicion.

Ron was quietly quaking with laughter as he watched Harry do his best to not hurry upstairs to relieve himself. He glanced over at Lavender and Parvati and wondered about the most discreet way to borrow that catalogue.

***

Harry finally reached the door to his dormitory and entered, closing the door behind him and leaning against it, closing his eyes; being glad to finally be able to enjoy some peace and quiet. He dropped his books, quill and parchment to the floor.

‘I was wondering when you’d give up on Snape’s essay.’

Harry smiled at the sound of his girlfriend’s voice. His eyes remained closed as he said, ‘I’d have been up here a lot sooner if I’d known you were waiting for me.’

He opened his eyes to turn his gaze on her. Then he opened his eyes wider.

She was wearing his favourite shirt. That was all. No, that was all she had on. With only two buttons done up at a very strategic point. It was too big for her, on her it was a mini-dress rather than a shirt, and it didn’t cling to her every curve so it didn’t show off her marvellous figure. All it did reveal were her gorgeous legs that he would happily take every available opportunity to trace his hands over; other than that, it was entirely unremarkable.

But it was his shirt, dammit.

She had worn things for him, but nothing affected him quite like this. The sight of his girlfriend in his own shirt made him wonder how lingerie stores remained in business when this was by far the most incredible outfit she had worn for him inside the bedroom. He honestly didn’t understand why the sight of Hermione in his favourite shirt was far more tantalising than a lacy bra and g-string. He briefly amused himself by imagining Parvati and Lavender’s befuddled expressions at a guy being turned on by a girl in a man’s shirt before turning his mind to far more important matters.

‘So that’s where it disappeared to.’

‘It looked comfortable so I borrowed it,’ she smiled at him.

‘Oh,’ Harry was staring at the buttons that were covering up what he couldn’t see right now. ‘No other reason?’

‘Well …’ she blushed slightly. ‘The smell.’

‘What?’ he asked, bewildered. ‘The smell?’

‘Yes, the smell. Your smell. The shirt smells like you, you see. It’s being close to you when I can’t be close to you. It’s like wearing your hug.’

This time, but not for the first time today, Harry felt heat rise up in his cheeks and he looked down. ‘I didn’t realise, it makes sense I suppose, I never really thought about it that way.’ He grinned and looked up at her again. ‘But don’t think I’m going to be wearing any of your shirts,’ he told her.

‘That would be a sight to behold,’ she smirked at him.

‘Nothing like the sight I’m beholding right now I assure you.’

Hermione smiled at him again, fingering one of the lower buttons on her -- his shirt.

‘Harry, why are you still standing all the way over there?’

‘I’m thinking.’

‘About?’

‘Well, I don’t know whether to reclaim my shirt, as it is my favourite, or let you keep it, as I am glad it has found such a good home.’

‘I see,’ Hermione sauntered over to him. ‘There is a third option, Harry.’

‘There is?’

Her eyes sparkled.

‘Yes … claim it … and then give it back.’

One of his arms reached down and curled around her waist.

‘I think that is one of the best ideas I’ve heard all day,’ he answered, leaning his head down for a kiss as Harry embarked on the long and arduous task of reclaiming his shirt.