Chapter 17: The Sticking Charm and the Library Ladder part-2
Hermione followed his gaze. She looked down at her own legs. She felt the cool draft of the library air conditioning.
She looked up at the ladder. She saw her skirt.
She looked back at Harry.
"Don't," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "Don't say a word."
"I..." Harry's voice was an octave higher than usual. "I like your socks."
It was the worst possible thing he could have said.
"SILENCE!"
Madam Pince erupted from the stacks like a vengeful bat. "What is this noise? What is this commotion?"
She rounded the corner and stopped dead.
She saw the overturned books. She saw the ladder. She saw Harry Potter holding a pantless Hermione Granger.
"Miss Granger!" Madam Pince gasped, clutching her chest. "This is a library! Not a... a brothel!"
"It is not what it looks like!" Hermione wailed, trying to pull her shirt down, but it was too short. She grabbed a book from a nearby stack—Hogwarts: A History—and held it in front of her crotch like a shield.
"My skirt!" Hermione pointed at the ladder. "It is stuck! It fell off!"
"Likely story!" Madam Pince scoffed. "Indecent exposure in the reading room! Ten points from Gryffindor! And cover yourself this instant!"
I stepped out from behind the bookshelf, holding a large scroll of parchment I had grabbed from a table.
"Here, Hermione!" I said, rushing over and wrapping the parchment around her waist like a makeshift sarong. "Madam Pince, please, she had an accident with a Sticking Charm. It backfired."
"A likely excuse," Madam Pince sniffed, though she looked slightly mollified by the covering. "Get out! All of you! And do not come back until you are fully dressed!"
We were chased out of the library. Hermione shuffled along, clutching the parchment around her waist, tears streaming down her face. Harry walked beside her, looking like he had been hit with a Confundus Charm.
As we reached the corridor, the system chimed in.
"System Alert," the voice was practically purring. "Incident recorded. Type: The 'Reverse Banana Peel' combined with 'Sticking Charm Backfire'. Full lower body exposure in a restrictive environment. Target: Hermione Granger. Witness: Harry Potter and Madam Pince. Rating: S-class. Reward: Skill 'Illusion (Basic)' and fifty attribute points."
(Illusion,) I thought, suppressing a grin. (Now I can make things look like other things. I can make a door look like a wall. Or clothes look like... nothing.)
"I am dropping out," Hermione announced suddenly, stopping in the middle of the corridor.
"What?" Harry asked, snapping out of his daze.
"I am dropping out of Hogwarts," she said, staring at the stone floor. "I cannot do this anymore. I have flashed the Boy Who Lived four times in two days. I have been exposed to the entire school, the library staff and Malfoy. I have no dignity left. I am going to go live in a cave."
"Hermione, no," Harry said, stepping in front of her. "It is just... a run of bad luck. We will figure it out. Maybe it is a curse. We will go to Professor Lupin. He knows about Dark creatures and curses. Maybe he can help."
Hermione looked up at him, hope warring with despair in her eyes. "Do you think so?"
"I know so," Harry said firmly. "We will go right now. He is in his office."
"Okay," Hermione sniffed. "But first, I need to get my skirt."
"I will get it," I volunteered. "I will run back, grab it and meet you at Lupin's office. You two go ahead."
"Thank you, Ron," Hermione said, looking at me with genuine gratitude. "You are a good friend."
(If only you knew,) I thought, feeling a microscopic pang of guilt that was immediately crushed by the anticipation of the next scene.
"Go on," I shooed them away.
They walked down the corridor toward the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom.
I leaned against the wall and checked my new skill.
Skill: Illusion (Basic)Description: Allows the user to create minor visual hallucinations or alter the appearance of objects for up to five minutes. Range: Visual line of sight.
I smiled. Lupin was a werewolf. He had heightened senses. But Harry and Hermione were teenagers with heightened hormones and frayed nerves.
I retrieved the skirt from the library—Madam Pince threw it at me—and headed toward Lupin's office.
But I wasn't going to just give it back. Oh no.
I was going to use Illusion on the skirt. I could make it look like something else. Or, perhaps, I could use Illusion on the door to Lupin's office to make it look like it was closed when it was actually open, or vice versa.
The possibilities were endless.
I walked leisurely through the castle. The "Flash Your Wife System" had turned my life into a game and I was racking up the high score.
Current Status:Name: Ron WeasleyIntelligence: High (Enhanced)System Points: 310Skills: Photographic Memory, Magical Theory Comprehension (Master), Advanced Occlumency, Telekinesis (Intermediate), Structure Analysis, Liquids Manipulation (Minor), Sound Manipulation (Basic), Illusion (Basic).Next Goal: Trigger an incident involving a Professor.
(Lupin is next,) I thought. (Let us see if werewolves have good reflexes.)
Professor Remus Lupin was a man of infinite patience. He had dealt with boggarts, grindylows and the marauding antics of James Potter and Sirius Black in his youth. However, facing a teenage witch wearing a makeshift sarong made of library parchment, accompanied by a traumatized-looking Harry Potter, was testing even his composure.
"Let me get this straight," Lupin said gently, leaning back against his desk. The afternoon light filtered through the dusty windows of the Defense Against the Dark Arts office. "You believe you are suffering from a localized bad luck curse that specifically targets your... clothing?"
"It is not a belief, Professor," Hermione Granger said, her voice trembling slightly. She was clutching the parchment tightly around her waist. "It is statistical fact. In the last forty-eight hours, I have experienced seven distinct wardrobe malfunctions, each more improbable than the last. The probability of this happening naturally is astronomically low."
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