A/N: I've had this story frothing in my brain for a while- it's the least romantic piece I've ever written, but I like it nonetheless. It's different from my other works, you'll just have to read and see, and I'd love to hear what you think about it!!
KNICKERS
A stony wall of marble loomed in the distance, glinting a sinister gleam of polished onyx. The sea of solemn figures, faceless warriors with a purpose to destroy, awaited their command with weapons raised- as if to strike. An eerie silence settled across the scene, a lone knight gliding towards them, an enemy soon to be devoured.
The tension was palpable. An overpowering sense of domination united the stretch of heartless soldiers, urging them to obliterate any who crossed their path. But patience was the key. Animosity raged within their veins as bottled fury longed to be released, the front lines shaking with unrequited vehemence.
The code was given and out rang their battle cry- reaching the ends of the earth they now possessed. Fear rained from the heavens, soaking into the hearts of their rivals and defeating their efforts with every drop. Hungry with desire, the victors captured their prize and fled the scene, retreating to the lavish feast that surely awaited them.
"Checkmate."
"Damn it, Ron," Harry scowled as he flicked a pawn off the table, mashing his cheek in his hand.
"Sixth time in a row, mate- today's not your day," he said with a grin, stretching back in his armchair and lacing his fingers behind his head.
It was a lazy Saturday afternoon in the Gryffindor common room, practically empty for the Easter holidays. Harry and Ron should have been studying for potions, astronomy, transfiguration, and charms finals, but opted for six rounds of chess, instead.
"You don't reckon 'mione's mad that we didn't go to her spew meeting, do you, Harry?" Ron inquired with a cock of his brow, settling his gaze on the crackling fire.
"I told her I had Quidditch, I dunno what your excuse is," he countered, fighting the smirk that pulled at his lips.
"I'll just tell her she forgot to tell me. I'm always forgettin' stuff," Ron decided, rubbing his nose as he stood up to yawn.
"Wouldn't you mean you forgot that she told you?"
"Whatever. I'm not one to rehearse things- I'll tell her whatever comes to mind," he drawled, hastily scratching the back pocket of his trousers.
"Yeah, tell me how that works out," Harry intoned, rolling his eyes as he stood up to stretch.
"Let's see what Neville's up to- I think he went up to the dorm."
The boys climbed the spiraling stairs at a slothful rate, dragging their feet along the ascending granite. They reached the dormitory eventually, only to find it empty, and pondered what to do next- furrowing their brows in unintended unison.
"Hey! Clean laundry, brilliant!" Ron cried, hugging his pile of lemon-scented robes, "Sometimes I could kiss those house elves."
"Yet, you won't go to a meeting about revolutionizing their freedom?"
"Well, no. Then who'd wash my knickers?" he taunted, shooting a pair of silken boxer shorts across the room- landing squarely on Harry's face.
"Thanks," came a muffled voice dripping with sarcasm, underneath a crumpled wad of flaming orange, "You still wear Cannons underwear? What are you, five?"
"Oh, sod off," Ron spat, snatching the ginger drawers in a huff. His cheeks flushed a deep crimson, Harry grinning like mad all the while with his glasses skewed atop his nose.
Hearing Ron grumble absent-mindedly about privacy issues, Harry sported a lurid grin as he put away his things, suppressing the sniggers escaping his mouth. He bent over his four-poster to grab another pair of laundered robes, but spotted something frilly out of the corner of his eye.
Whipping his head behind him to see if Ron was paying attention, he quickly snapped back to the curiosity lingering in his midst. He slowly pushed aside his own pair of knickers- clad in fluttering snitches, but don't tell Ron- and gently picked up the mysterious object, dangling it inches away from his nose between a trembling thumb and forefinger.
A tiny strip of lace mesmerized his bright green eyes, setting him in to a mystified trance as it swayed across his vision- swinging back and forth like a tree in the breeze, wind among the willows. The core was a silky satin and black as bootstrap leather. Amazed at its subtle simplicity, Harry watched it dance sensually before him, letting it fall to the bedsheets with elegance and grace.
He quickly seized the illustrious treasure and pressed it gently to his cheek, feeling the forbidden softness caress his face. Harry took in a deep breath and closed his eyes, soaking in the scent of lilacs and daffodils- sending waves of florid pleasure throughout his brain.
"What the hell are you doing?"
Harry dropped his source of euphoria, his eyes wide as saucers, and turned to face Ron with an open mouth, orbs of forest green flitting about the room in a panic.
"What are those- or rather, whose?" Ron asked in a curious tone, eyeing the wadded object on Harry's bed in mystified wonder, "Are…are those panties?"
"Well, they're not mine," was all Harry could think to say, mentally socking himself in the forehead for his ridiculously arrant response.
"And you got on to me for the Cannons," Ron snorted as he fingered the delicate lace.
"Give me that," Harry snapped, firmly grasping his silken treasure with a pertinent glance to his left, "They're not yours."
"Well, according to you they're not yours either- or is there something you're not telling me?"
"Oh, shut up."
The pair continued to stare at the crumpled material flowing from Harry's palms, examining every inch of the feminine object. Their greedy eyes seared its satin form into memory, Harry wishing he were alone rather than with an accomplice.
"So, they're not yours, th-OOF!" Ron began, breaking the silence as Harry whopped the side of his head with a pillow.
"I dunno whose they are, Ron. D'you think the house elves just got confused?"
"Maybe…I remember that one with the eyepatch- Blinky? I dunno- used to steal Neville's socks in third year. You'd reckon they'd be scared of clothes, but most of the ones at Hogwarts have been dismissed from families anyway. Felt sorry for Neville, though. Had to go 'round the whole year barefoot."
"He had shoes-"
"But he didn't wear them all the time!" Ron justified, fervently shaking his head.
"Well-"
"Hey, d'you think they're Lavender's?" Ron piped up with blue eyes twinkling, his face alight with possibilities as he turned his attention back to the mystery knickers.
"But they were in my things-"
"Yeah, but everyone knows she's not the brightest. She got the room right," Ron suggested, giving her some credit.
"How would she even get them in here? It's not like she has some sort of bond with the house elves…"
Realization dawned on both their faces as they turned to look at one another, eyes bulging out of sockets and jaws thudding on the carpet. Crinkled brows of skepticism flittered across their foreheads, both thinking surely this couldn't be…
"There you are- I thought I might find you up here. Quidditch get done early, Harry?" Hermione suddenly bustled through the door, midway through a sentence, and began shuffling a stack of parchment on the bureau, not paying the pair behind her a bit of attention.
"Er…"
"Well, apparently it did. Thanks for showing up, Ron- I only told you about six dozen times we were having a meeting in the kitchens. I figured you of all people would at least come to that one. I know you won't set foot in the library, especially after the 'Madame Pince' incident, but her hair will grow back eventually. I mean it wasn't that great to begin wi-" her eyes fell on the gathered lace in Harry's hands, chocolate brown orbs taken aback in surprise.
Cheeks tinged in pink, she confidently strode across the room with head held high, curls of chestnut bouncing in her wake. She stopped abruptly, facing Harry eye to chin, and quickly exhaled- the puff of air rippling the dainty artifact clasped in Harry's frozen hand.
"I don't know what those are doing in here," she said stiffly, straightening her robes, "must've been a mistake," Hermione finished, finally chancing a look at the room's other occupants.
Ron cocked a brow and narrowed his eyes, not believing a word she said, while Harry stayed rooted to the spot, unable to move. Hermione rolled her eyes and sighed, realizing she had been caught, and locked eyes with Harry, almond emeralds still widened in shock. She pursed her lips before continuing, taking a deep breath as brown eyes bore into green.
"I didn't think there would be an audience when you found those," she said pointedly as her eyes flickered toward Ron, "You were supposed to be five hundred meters away on a broomstick when they were delivered, not having some sort of boxers parade with the Cannons fanatic. What, are you lot having a knickers swap? Be that as it may, I guessed correctly. Second bed on the right, across from the tacky orange one. I have quite an extensive collection, you know. That was just a preview. If you're not into lace I can show you something else…" and she turned on her heel and glided out of the dormitory, not daring to glance behind her.
Harry's brain tried to register what had just been said, his eyes blinking uncontrollably. Faster than lightning he shot out the door, nearly tripping over his trunk, and whipped around the corner in a flash- tufts of jet-black barely visible as he raced down the staircase.
Ron stood flabbergasted, merely staring at the open door as his eyes roamed the spot where Harry had previously been standing. He furrowed his brows in thought, raising his eyes to the ceiling, then shouted,
"Well, where are my panties?!?"
Just then, Neville walked across the doorframe, freezing mid step as he gave Ron a look of astonishment mixed with distaste. Eyes wide with bewilderment, Neville slowly turned around and headed back toward the common room, bare feet pattering on the carpet.
A/N: I know, not really a fluff piece, just humor with a twinge of naughtiness. I'm currently in the middle of an L/J smut fic and I really needed a breather. You really can't get any farther from it than this! Lol I hope you enjoyed it, I am considering writing a more sultry companion fic with Harry and Hermione in her dormitory (how he's going to get in there, I've no idea) with the physical contact I KNOW you are longing for. Anyway, just a funfic I've had floating around- I would LOVE lots of feedback, hope you liked : - )