Want to know that I don't own it? Go to the first part my sweets.
This is a teeny tiny part, a filler really to tide you over until I post the final, really long part next week. Hope
you enjoy.
It is very very hot here at the moment, it should never be this damned hot. And I can't even vent my frustration by writing a story where they are hot because it never gets this hot in England. So instead I'll send out this tiny part, sorry for the size but the next part is a monster.
I hit 100 reviews, I hit 100 reviews, I hit 100 reviews, I hit 100 reviews, I hit 100 reviews, I hit 100 reviews.
I'm kinda happy can you tell?
I've decided to keep all my reviewers, I love you all for being so nice to me, seriously I've written six
stories in less than a month while I've been here and I have never ever written that quickly, plus this story is
over 15 000 words so I'm on fire, sorry I may have had too much sugar today.
The next twelve days passed. They refused however to pick a speed, they passed quickly when she was working and slowly whenever she was near Harry or able to think freely. Hermione was beginning to think she would go mad. Finally it was the night before the Quidditch Cup match. She couldn't sleep, she'd been laying in bed going over every possibility; he'd fly over and take off his cloak to cover her up and take her away for some 'about bloody time sex'. He might go blind, or mad or catatonic; she'd be practising the spells to catch him in case he fell for just that reason. He might not even notice or worst of all he might notice and not care; cover her up to keep her from teenage male eyes but not be affected in the slightest by his half-naked best friend sitting in the crowd at a Quidditch match. Whichever way it went it would tell her what he felt; whether she'd have to kick him, let him go or finally get to kiss him until they both forgot how to breathe.
At some stage she knew she'd fallen asleep, though she dreamt that she'd actually been up all night. The dream had flowed so seemlessly into waking that until she had sat up and looked at the outfits hanging from the rail at the end of her bed for a few minutes she was sure she hadn't slept. Finally she decided she'd have to get up, there was final preparation to be done. She had been preparing herself since she had bought the underwear; exercising, waxing and other fun things so that she at the very least felt good about how she looked, even if she didn't knock his pants off.
Now the problem was what to wear? She had been debating this since she had bought them all, if only there was one she loved more than the others. She probably did love the corset set best of all but she wasn't sure if it would be drastic enough. The green wouldn't make an impression since she was pretty sure it would stay green so long as she thought of Harry. The only time it would change would probably be when she had his reaction; she wondered what the colours would be for elation, arousal or more likely mortification. That left the blue, given that the day would get hotter and the last week had been steadily growing oppressive with the heat she had to assume that today would be the perfect weather for the blue pair. As the underwear got hotter it would get brighter, harder to ignore, easier to notice. The blue won, it had to be, besides she could think of lots of fun possibilities for the red and green sets - especially the red; maybe if this went to plan she'd give him a special present for his birthday. That decided Hermione grabbed the blue bra and panties, and packed the others away before grabbing her shower supplies and heading to the bathroom knowing no one else would be up yet to disturb her.