Chapter 38: The Prefects' Bathroom and the Tsunami Tap part-2
However, she had been wearing silk pyjamas underneath. Thin, pale pink, silk pyjamas.
And she was now currently soaking wet in warm, soapy water.
Silk, when wet, becomes practically invisible. It clings to the skin like a second layer of epidermis.
Hermione stood up in the shallow end of the pool (where the water came up to her waist). But the top half of her body was exposed to the air. Her pyjama top was clinging so tightly to her chest that Harry could count the ribs... and see perfectly clearly the dark outline of her areolas through the translucent pink fabric.
(...cough...)
Harry, who was treading water right in front of her, stopped paddling. He stood up. The water was waist-high for him too.
They stood face-to-face.
Hermione looked down at herself. She saw the pink silk plastered to her skin. She saw that she might as well have been naked.
"Oh," she whispered. "It is happening again."
"Yeah," Harry breathed, his eyes wide. "It is."
But this time, Harry didn't look away. The conditioning I had planted, the "Telepathic Suggestion" from the ball and the "Dream Weaver" influence were all converging.
Instead of turning his back, Harry stepped closer.
"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice low.
"I am wet," Hermione stated the obvious, shivering slightly. "And you can see... everything."
"I can," Harry admitted. He reached out a hand. He touched her arm. "You are cold."
"The water is warm," she murmured, looking into his green eyes. She didn't pull away. The shame was there, but it was being replaced by something else. A strange sort of inevitability.
(Time to push the envelope,) I decided.
(Liquids Manipulation: Create a whirlpool.)
I swirled the water around their legs. The current pushed them together.
Hermione stumbled forward. Harry caught her.
His hands went around her waist. Her wet silk pyjamas offered zero friction. His hands slid up her back.
She gasped, pressing her chest against his bare, wet chest.
Skin on wet silk on skin.
"Harry," she whimpered. "We shouldn't."
"The water," Harry muttered, holding her tight. "It is pushing us."
"System Alert," the voice purred. "Incident recorded. Type: The 'Wet Silk' Encounter. Full translucency in an aquatic environment. Sustained intimate contact. Target: Hermione Granger. Participant: Harry Potter. Rating: SS-class. Reward: Skill 'Mist Generation' and one hundred attribute points."
They stood there for a long moment, swaying in the water. Harry's hands were definitely wandering lower than her waist, likely checking if the silk bottoms were just as translucent (they were).
"We... we need to figure out the clue," Hermione whispered, though she made no move to leave his arms.
"The Merpeople," Harry said distractedly, staring at her wet collarbone. "They take what I will miss most."
He looked at her. Really looked at her.
"I think I know what they are going to take," Harry said softly.
Hermione blushed a deep, furious red. "Me?"
"Yeah," Harry nodded. "You."
Suddenly, the door to the bathroom rattled.
"Peeves!" Filch's voice rasped from the corridor. "I heard splashing! Is that you, you poltergeist?"
The mood shattered.
"Filch!" Harry hissed. "We have to go!"
"My raincoat!" Hermione cried, looking at the bottom of the pool.
"Leave it!" Harry said. "Quick, under the cloak!"
They scrambled out of the pool, dripping wet. Harry grabbed the Invisibility Cloak and threw it over both of them.
They were huddled together under the cloak, soaking wet, shivering and practically naked.
I (still disillusioned) slipped out the door just as Filch unlocked it.
"Empty," Filch grumbled, shining his lantern into the bathroom. "Blast that ghost."
We hurried back to the Gryffindor Tower. The walk was a wet, squelching affair. Under the cloak, Harry and Hermione were pressed together for warmth. I could hear their teeth chattering, but I could also hear the ragged breathing that had nothing to do with the cold.
"Sensory Share," I whispered to myself, activating the skill for just a second.
I felt the wet silk against Harry's skin. I felt the heat of Hermione's body. I felt the overwhelming urge to just stop walking and kiss her right there in the corridor.
(Harry, you dog,) I thought, cutting the connection. (You are enjoying this way too much.)
We reached the Fat Lady.
"Password?"
"Towels," Harry shivered. "Lots of towels."
"Banana Fritters," I corrected, becoming visible behind them (pretending I had just run up).
The portrait opened. We tumbled into the empty common room.
Harry threw off the cloak. They stood there, creating a puddle on the rug. Hermione in her see-through pink silk, Harry in his trunks.
"I need to dry off," Hermione said, crossing her arms. "And burn these pyjamas."
"Hermione," Harry said, stopping her.
"What?"
"For the Second Task," Harry said seriously. "If they take you... I will come get you. I promise."
"I know you will, Harry," she smiled weakly. "Just... try not to rip my clothes off when you rescue me? The lake is very cold."
Harry grinned—an actual, cheeky grin. "No promises."
Hermione rolled her eyes, but she was smiling as she ran up the stairs to the girls' dormitory.
Harry watched her go. He turned to me.
"Ron," he said.
"Yeah?"
"I think I am going crazy," Harry admitted. "When her raincoat fell off... I wasn't worried. I was... happy."
"It is perfectly natural, Harry," I said, clapping him on the back. "You are eighteen. She is fit. And thanks to the universe, she is constantly naked. Enjoy the ride."
"I think I will," Harry murmured, heading to our room.
I sat by the fire for a moment.
The Second Task. The Lake.
Hermione would be unconscious. Tied to a statue underwater.
(Liquids Manipulation.) (Telekinesis.) (Mist Generation.)
I had a full hour to mess with the rescue.
I could make the seaweed untie her clothes. I could make the water pressure... interesting.
And Harry would be the hero who had to drag her to the surface.
(System,) I thought. (Does the shop sell 'Waterproof Recording Orbs'?)
.....
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