Harry loves sharing a flat with Hermione, especially when she can’t sleep and wakes early to bake before she goes to work, but it’s too quiet when she spends her weekends in Romania with Charlie. He doesn’t resent her happiness, even if it is still sort of surprising that she’s dating Charlie Weasley, of all people, and he’s glad she’s found someone. He just wishes that someone lived nearby so he didn’t have to be alone a few days a month.
Hermione might be a nag who has a color coded chore schedule complete with charmed reminders that make an annoying chirping sound if a chore goes more than one day without being completed, but she’s good company. She’s his best friend, besides Ron, and tolerates even his moodiest moments. In some ways, she’s a bit mum-like, which would be sort of creepy if he fancied her. Fortunately, he doesn’t think of her like that nor does she think of him in that kind of way.
He doesn’t eat as well when she’s gone because he doesn’t like to cook for just himself. Hermione is good at many, many things, but they learned quickly enough (after several small fires that he’s still not sure how she managed to accomplish) that baking was the extent of her culinary talents so Harry always cooks. When she’s away, he just lives on sandwiches or crisps unless he orders take-away.
He tries not to think about what he’ll do when she eventually decides to get married or something because she’s too young for those thoughts. Besides, he’ll just buy her a house as a wedding gift and make sure there’s a room for him. After all, he’ll have to approve any bloke that tries to take her away from him so it should be easy enough to find her one who doesn’t mind if her best friend lives with them.
If he ever finds a bloke of his own, well, they can be one big happy family. He wonders if Ron would like a room, too, and then he’d have his core family together again. Harry knows he’s a selfish prat and has no qualms about utilizing his knowledge of both his best friends to get his way with subtle manipulation when he deems it necessary. Maybe she’ll just shack up with Charlie, who likes him well enough to let him stay around most likely so long as Harry stops ogling his arse when he wears those worn tight jeans that let him know one reason Hermione always has a sated and dopey grin on her face after spending the night with Charlie.
It’s boring wandering around the empty flat. He could go out, of course, but that would require finding something clean to wear and dealing with the people who only want to talk to him because he killed Voldemort, which is always a fucking pain in the arse. Ron is out of town on business, though Harry thinks that is just code-word for ‘shagging my colleague’ since he learned that Angelina Johnson had taken a job in the Department of Magical Games, too. After he roams around a few times and catches a glimpse of himself in the mirror to see that he’s actually pouting, he decides he’ll just have to make his own fun.
Hermione is stupidly trusting some times. She never locks her door and doesn’t have charms on any of her stuff. Harry wonders if she’d keep a diary if he bought her one, thinking it might rather enjoyable to learn her secrets since she rarely shares them with anyone. He may have to try it just as an experiment. Of course, knowing Hermione, she’d realize his intentions and deliberately write the most shocking things just to annoy him.
He goes into her room and grins when he sees that she has a new photo of her and Charlie on her bedside table. Charlie has lasted longer than any of the others, not that there have been many. After she and Ron broke up, there’s just been two, both of whom Harry didn’t approve of at all. He is glad she’s happy, even if she leaves him alone and seems to think Charlie rates a higher priority in her life than her best friend.
After he looks around to see if she’s bought anything new, he opens the top drawer of her chest of drawers. To be a prim and modest witch, Hermione Granger has the naughtiest knickers. Since she’s been seeing Charlie, in fact, Harry has found little scraps of fabric that he’s not even sure what exactly they are. She’s got corsets and teeny knickers, stockings and see-through lace things that don’t even fasten properly, and he’s even found a pair of knickers without a crotch, that actually took him awhile to figure out were knickers and not some sort of garter.
Harry loves her lingerie fetish, not that he’ll ever confess he’s even aware it exists. He touches her knickers and feels the silk and lace against his skin, searching through the garments until he finds what he wants. She has a pair of black lace knickers in the back of her drawer that he’s not seen before. There are little red flowers woven over the crotch and the skimpy fabric in back can’t possibly cover her arse. They’ll do, he decides as he removes the knickers.
He’s about to shut the drawer when he notices a brown paper sack tucked beneath the white cotton knickers she wears during her monthly. He opens the sack, of course, because he and Hermione don’t have secrets and he knows she’d charm anything private she doesn’t care if he snoops around and finds. He removes a daydream charm from the sack and sees a note with her name on it from the twins’, thanking her for her assistance with their improvements and telling her they hope she enjoys the new version of the charm.
The daydream charm is far too tempting to resist. Besides, there are at least two others in the sack so she won’t miss one. He’s never tried this product, but when better than a time when he’s bored and having to sneak into his friend’s knickers drawer for fun? Maybe he’ll dream about a nice beach somewhere and blokes in tight shorts. His reaction to that thought reminds just how long it’s been since he’s been laid, which is far longer than he cares to admit.
He puts the sack back and takes the black knickers and daydream charm into his room. Once there, he undresses and fondles the knickers. Hermione is a curvy woman with great hips and nice tits, if one is into that sort of thing. Harry is still skinny to a point of annoyance despite how much he eats so it’s a perfect combination. He can fit into her knickers easily, though they can sometimes be a bit snug, which just heightens the experience.
The knickers slide against his skin as he pulls them on, the lace bits rubbing the inside of his legs. He has to wiggle a little but finally has them in place. Harry sighs when he feels the fabric pull snug against his growing erection, the back of the knickers riding up between his arse cheeks in a way that he finds quite stimulating. He grips his cock through the fabric, squeezing lightly, and moans softly. The one good thing about Hermione going off on shag weekends is the chance to raid her knickers drawer.
He lies down and leans against his pillows, legs spread wantonly, erection barely contained by the skimpy black knickers. He pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose and picks up the daydream charm. The instructions are simple enough so he gets comfortable and takes it before he runs his fingers over his nipples and shifts so he can reach better. He closes his eyes and waits for the daydream to take him away.
End
Hermione's Knickers
Story Notes:
7/17/07