she pops her toe in his mouth, can't forget...
Tiny Way to Die
chapter 14
by
copier
· original author:
wannnaone
As you sat there, thoroughly humiliated and unsure how much more of Hermione’s “conditioning” you could endure, she suddenly shifted her position. Her feet, which had been lightly cupping your face, moved again—this time with deliberate intent.
"Hermione," you began, your voice tinged with unease, "what are you—"
Before you could finish your sentence, you felt her toe brush against your lips. You instinctively tried to pull back, but her firm tone stopped you in your tracks.
"Harry, stop squirming," she said matter-of-factly, not even glancing away from her book. "You’ve been complaining about sweat all day. This is a perfect opportunity to get over it. It’s harmless."
"I’m not putting your toe in my—" you started, but Hermione’s determined gaze finally flicked down to you, silencing your protest.
"Harry," she said, her tone soft but undeniably firm, "you need to trust me. This is for your own good. It’ll help you adjust to things being… different. And honestly, it’s just sweat. You’ve dealt with worse in Quidditch matches."
Before you could muster another argument, her toe gently pressed past your lips, leaving you frozen in place. The salty tang of sweat hit your tongue, and your face burned with embarrassment. Hermione, meanwhile, remained perfectly calm, her eyes returning to the book in her lap as though this were the most mundane thing in the world.
"See?" she said after a moment, her voice light and almost teasing. "It’s not so bad, is it? You’re making such a fuss over nothing."
You wanted to argue, to tell her how ridiculous and demeaning this was, but the words wouldn’t come. Instead, you sat there, your mind racing as you tried to process what was happening. Hermione, for her part, seemed completely unbothered, as if this were just another step in her carefully thought-out plan.
After a few moments, she pulled her toe away and smiled down at you, her expression a mix of satisfaction and amusement. "There. That wasn’t so hard, was it?"
You glared up at her, your cheeks still flushed. "Hermione, this is insane."
She laughed softly, shaking her head. "No, Harry. It’s practical. You’re the one who keeps overthinking everything. If you’d just relax and trust me, this whole process would be a lot easier."
You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. Practical? Trust her? This was Hermione at her most overbearing, and yet there was no stopping her once she decided she was “helping.” You sighed heavily, resigning yourself to whatever other bizarre ideas she might have in store.
As she returned to her book, her foot resting idly against your chest, you couldn’t help but wonder how much worse this “conditioning” was going to get—and if you’d ever live it down.
"Hermione," you began, your voice tinged with unease, "what are you—"
Before you could finish your sentence, you felt her toe brush against your lips. You instinctively tried to pull back, but her firm tone stopped you in your tracks.
"Harry, stop squirming," she said matter-of-factly, not even glancing away from her book. "You’ve been complaining about sweat all day. This is a perfect opportunity to get over it. It’s harmless."
"I’m not putting your toe in my—" you started, but Hermione’s determined gaze finally flicked down to you, silencing your protest.
"Harry," she said, her tone soft but undeniably firm, "you need to trust me. This is for your own good. It’ll help you adjust to things being… different. And honestly, it’s just sweat. You’ve dealt with worse in Quidditch matches."
Before you could muster another argument, her toe gently pressed past your lips, leaving you frozen in place. The salty tang of sweat hit your tongue, and your face burned with embarrassment. Hermione, meanwhile, remained perfectly calm, her eyes returning to the book in her lap as though this were the most mundane thing in the world.
"See?" she said after a moment, her voice light and almost teasing. "It’s not so bad, is it? You’re making such a fuss over nothing."
You wanted to argue, to tell her how ridiculous and demeaning this was, but the words wouldn’t come. Instead, you sat there, your mind racing as you tried to process what was happening. Hermione, for her part, seemed completely unbothered, as if this were just another step in her carefully thought-out plan.
After a few moments, she pulled her toe away and smiled down at you, her expression a mix of satisfaction and amusement. "There. That wasn’t so hard, was it?"
You glared up at her, your cheeks still flushed. "Hermione, this is insane."
She laughed softly, shaking her head. "No, Harry. It’s practical. You’re the one who keeps overthinking everything. If you’d just relax and trust me, this whole process would be a lot easier."
You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. Practical? Trust her? This was Hermione at her most overbearing, and yet there was no stopping her once she decided she was “helping.” You sighed heavily, resigning yourself to whatever other bizarre ideas she might have in store.
As she returned to her book, her foot resting idly against your chest, you couldn’t help but wonder how much worse this “conditioning” was going to get—and if you’d ever live it down.
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June 1
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