Chapter 36: The Yule Ball and the Strapless Catastrophe part-2
The Sticking Charm failed.
Shhhhlip.
It was a smooth, silent failure. As Harry dipped her backward, her body went down, but her heavy, strapless dress decided to succumb to gravity and momentum.
The bodice slid down. Not just a little bit. It slid all the way to her waist.
Hermione was dipped backward in the center of the Great Hall, illuminated by a thousand floating candles. Her dress was bunched around her stomach.
And above the waist?
She was wearing a strapless, backless, silicone adhesive bra designed to be invisible under the dress. Unfortunately, the heat and sweat had compromised that too.
As she dipped, one of the cups peeled away.
(...cough...)
The crowd gasped. It was a collective intake of breath that sucked the air out of the room.
Harry was holding her. He was looking down at her face. But in his peripheral vision—which was currently filled with the view of Hermione's chest—he saw everything.
He saw the pale skin. He saw the peeling silicone cup dangling uselessly. He saw the undeniable proof that Hermione Granger had indeed grown up.
"Harry," Hermione whispered, staring up at him, paralyzed by the breeze hitting her skin. "Why is it cold?"
"Don't look down," Harry said, his voice trembling with a mixture of chivalry and shock. "Just... don't look down."
"My dress fell down, didn't it?" she asked, tears welling in her eyes.
"It did," Harry confirmed. "It is... mostly gone."
"Pull me up," she begged. "Pull me up and hide me."
Harry hauled her upright. But as he did, he realized he had no free hands to cover her without letting her fall. So, he did the only thing he could think of.
He hugged her.
He slammed his chest against hers, wrapping his arms tight around her bare back to cover her exposed front from the prying eyes of the school.
"I have got you," Harry whispered into her hair.
"You are crushing me," Hermione sobbed into his dress robes. "And your buttons are cold."
"I am sorry," Harry apologized. "It is the only way."
So there they stood, in the middle of the dance floor, locked in a desperate, skin-to-skin embrace while the Weird Sisters continued to play a frantic jig.
From the back, everyone could see Hermione's bare back and the fact that her dress was hanging off her hips. From the front, Harry was blocking the view, but the intimacy of the hug was scandalous enough.
"System Alert," the voice chimed, victorious. "Incident recorded. Type: The 'Yule Ball Exposure'. Strapless dress failure during a dip. Full upper body exposure (to target) and public back exposure. Sustained skin-to-skin contact. Target: Hermione Granger. Hero/Victim: Harry Potter. Rating: SS-class. Reward: Skill 'Telepathic Suggestion (Minor)' and one hundred and fifty attribute points."
Professor McGonagall was sprinting across the floor, her tartan sash flying.
"Potter! Granger!" she shouted. "What is the meaning of this?"
"Wardrobe malfunction, Professor!" Harry yelled over the music, refusing to let go of Hermione. "If I let go, we have a full scandal!"
"Then do not let go!" McGonagall ordered, whipping out her wand. "Everyone else, eyes front! Look away!"
She cast a conjuring spell. A large, woolen shawl appeared in the air.
"Wrap her up, Potter!"
Harry maneuvered awkwardly, trying to wrap the shawl around Hermione while keeping her pressed against him. It was a clumsy dance of limbs and fabric.
Finally, Hermione was encased in the shawl. She pulled it tight, burying her face in it.
"I am leaving," she announced, her voice muffled. "I am going to live in the Black Lake with the giant squid. He doesn't care about dresses."
"I will take you," Harry said, his face still flushed a deep, burning red. "We will go."
They walked off the dance floor. The crowd parted like the Red Sea. Whispers followed them.
"Did you see?" "Poor girl." "Harry Potter is a lucky wizard."
I sat at my table, swirling my drink. Padma looked at me.
"Your friends are very... dramatic," she noted.
"They certainly are," I agreed. "Never a dull moment."
I watched them leave the hall. Harry had his arm around Hermione's shoulders. She was leaning into him, defeated but safe.
The "Red String" wasn't active, but they were walking close enough that they might as well have been tied together.
(Telepathic Suggestion,) I thought, checking the new reward. (Description: Plant a small, subtle thought in the target's mind. The target will believe it is their own idea.)
I narrowed my eyes at the retreating back of Harry Potter.
(Telepathic Suggestion: Target Harry Potter.) (Message: "She felt really good in my arms. I want to hold her like that again.")
Harry paused at the doors. He looked down at the bundled-up Hermione. His hand lingered on her shoulder. He squeezed it gently.
He looked back toward the hall, his eyes locking with mine for a second. He looked... conflicted. But underneath the embarrassment, there was a spark.
He turned and led her out.
"So," Padma said, tapping her foot. "Are we going to dance? Or are you going to stare at your friends all night?"
"We are going to dance," I said, standing up and offering my hand. "But let us skip the waltz. I am feeling something... safer."
"Like what?"
" The Macarena," I suggested. "Hands stay on your own body."
As we walked to the floor, I grinned.
The Yule Ball was a success. Hermione had flashed the school. Harry had held a topless witch in his arms. And I had enough points to buy the next tier of chaos.
The "Flash Your Wife System" was truly the gift that kept on giving.
The gossip mill at Hogwarts operated faster than a Firebolt. By breakfast the morning after the Yule Ball, Hermione Granger had acquired a new, unofficial title. She was no longer just the "Brightest Witch of Her Age." She was now "The Girl Who Flashed."
.....
You can read the advanced chapters of all my novels at patreon for only 3$/ month at ultimate patreon tier
https://www.patreon.com/c/Vidhifate
...