Leaving Number 4 Privet Drive doesn't happen often to young Harry Potter. But when and if it does, he is never able to forget it. Even among being rescued from an abandoned isle by an umbrella-wielding giant, to manning a flying getaway car while under house arrest, and all the way to blowing up an aunt as a means to ride a triple-decker London bus to uncharted magical territory, this year, right on the cusp of Harry's fourteenth birthday, had to be the strangest occurrence yet: Being emancipated from the prison that is the Dursleys by four unlikely, and equally entranced, Wizards, all equipped with matching fiery hair, which were perhaps reflections for their blazing spirits as well. One reunion, group hug, overly-stamped letter, victimized cousin, and chimney channel of transportation later, Harry Potter finds himself back at the Weaseley's, his spontaneous rescuers, along with one more unexpected, but certainly gratifying, guest: Hermione.
"Harry..are you okay?" Speaking of whom, it was the wonderful, enchanting, but ironically Muggle girl that expressed the concern directed towards Harry.
Harry's head jolted upright from his downwards gaze, clearly too lost in his own thought. His eyes met that of Hermione's, whose brown splash of auburn on white, circumscribed by a contrasting palette of her long eyelashes, had the most inviting aura about them, as if they were begging Harry to approach with closer intensity. However, appearing to be lost in an entirely different thought regarding that of the beautiful Hermione, the question is beckoned again: "Harry! Are you okay?"
"Oh," the word stumbled out as Harry regained his composure from the infatuating spell that Hermione's body affixes, "Yeah, I'm fine."
Hermione's raises an eyebrow in suspicion, raising an issue not even Harry was aware of yet: "Well, you were just staring so intently at my feet for some reason," Hermione stated amidst an innocent laugh, clearing thinking nothing of this gesture upon her feet. Before returning back to the boardgame with Ginny that Harry's attention diverted her from, Hermione looked at Harry for a response.
For a second, Harry just stared back, mouth slightly ajar, bemused in his expression. Had he really been recalling all the past events of the last 12 hours to the visual cue of Hermione's feet? Contemplating for a second without directly meeting Hermione's rising curiosity displayed in her eyes, Harry, fueled by mere curiosity, without an adherence to the extra suspicion it might manifest in Hermione, lowered his eyes to glimpse at Hermione's feet again, in some sort of attempt to find out why he was staring; the reason, upon second evaluation, was quite obvious:
Hermione's feet, positioned one on top of the other, were an ivory colour, one that Harry only saw a fleeting gaze of, considering that Hermione positioned her sitting self in such that she faced the opposite direction of Harry, legs squatted in a fashion that made it so her soles stared directly in Harry's direction, with her toes only peeking through to Harry's eyes if, by some fortune, Hermione had the good intention to scrunch her toes, permitting seductive peek. The peek consisted of ebony painted toenails, long enough to be very inviting, with a perfect curvature of the nail; this complimented brilliant the wrinkled, creamy soles of Hermione, from extra milky, snowwhite ball of her foot, to the lush sole, all the way down to the velvety heel, protruding in such a way that Harry had to use all his available willpower to not become gravitated by. Her ankles, unfortunately, were shrouded by jeans, so no critique could be made upon them--though, if Hermione's ankles were anything like her feet, the review would be lovingly. Harry wasn't that annoyed though; after all, after four years of Hogwarts customary dresscodes of long socks and leather heeled shoes, Hermione's bare feet more than gratified The Boy Who Lived.
This trance of euphoria for Hermione' s feet, however, only lasted but a second, as Harry teared his stare from Hermione's beautiful feet to that of Hermione's face, which one could argue is equally beautiful.
Finally addressing Hermione's concern about staring at her feet, Harry finally summoned up the meekly words of: "Oh, y'know...thinking," finishing off with a slightly half-grin that was met with Hermione's amazed smile and eyes. Ginny, however, from what little Harry was paying attention to her, looked annoyed.
This was the first time Hermione and Harry were in the same house, spending the night with each other, he surmised. Things could get...interesting.
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