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The Head Boy's Laundry: Lingerie by sugarbear_1269
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The Head Boy's Laundry: Lingerie

sugarbear_1269

She ran all the way back to Gryffindor Tower, her smoothly-stockinged legs swishing together, her robe flapping behind her. Her breasts jiggled uncomfortably, being pushed up as high as they were.

Flying into her room, she was glad to see that her roommate wasn't in. Taking advantage of the momentarily solitude, she heaved her rucksack onto her bed and frantically ripped her clothing off.

She'd never seen herself like this. Dumbfounded, she stood and looked at her reflection in the mirror, scarcely believing it was her body in this sexy confection. The green complimented her skin tone well enough, but it was the actual shape, form and function of the garments that caught her attention.

She stood staring for many minutes until she reached behind her to take the bloody stuff off. It was pretty, Malfoy'd gotten his joke in (and really, who else but him would do this?) and he'd paid her back in some twisted way.

She was sure there should be a catch somewhere back here. Contorting her body, she put her back toward the mirror and searched vainly for a stay, a snap, a zipper. A seam? Agh. Nothing. A body was not made to be in these positions, she thought, as she finally located a cleverly-hidden seam with a tiny flap concealing the myriad hooks and eyes.

It seemed to go from the small of her back to the deeply scooped neck of the teddy, so she hoisted her arms over her head and dangled them over her back, fingers scrabbling on the barely-there seam. There was no purchase there, so with an exasperated sigh she repositioned her arms behind her back as if she were removing her brassiere.

It was as if she was touching something as slick as ice. There was no way to even get her fingers to clamp on to the seam long enough to get any leverage to ease the hooks out of the eyes. Momentarily stumped, she decided to start with the garters instead. They had tiny clips, and those had to flex and let go of the fabric, right?

She pressed at the clips so many times she felt like a laboratory rat in Hermione's Muggle science textbooks. The tiny teeth were holding fast and the clips wouldn't open for anything. Jaw clenched, she stormed back to her bed and rooted through her discarded clothing, locating her wand.

Alohomora. Divestio. Deshabiller. None of these charms or any others she could think of would release the catches. On the edge of crying out in rage or just plain crying, she stared at her reflection again. Her face and skin were beyond red, flushed a dull, angry purple that never meant anything good.

There was no way in the world she was going to ask Hermione to help her. Gods, no. Hullo, Hermione, care to get me out of this? Oh, yes, well, Malfoy. Payback for shagging and leaving him, I'm sure.

She buried her head in her hands when finite incantatem did nothing. Finally, after trying to calm down for several minutes, she stood again and looked at herself in the mirror. Her breasts were heaving invitingly, and she was sure that somewhere Malfoy was laughing at her.

Surely this spell would wear off after some time. Perhaps the thing to do was wait it out. She would just wear her robes to dinner, see how that went. And for now, maybe a short nap was in order.

***

She woke nearly an hour later to Hermione banging on her door, reminding her loudly that dinner was about to begin. Shouting her replies, Ginny stood sleepily and began to dress, making sure she was covered from head to stocking toes before exiting.

Sitting down at the supper table, Ginny groaned. Bodily functions suddenly reared their ugly head, and she vowed to make it through dinner, just to see if maybe she could corner Draco and get him to end this ridiculous game. She wouldn't drink anything, either, so as to not exacerbate the problem.

But Draco wasn't at dinner. The ferret didn't even bother to show up and smirk, and Ginny was furious.

"Don't you want some pumpkin juice?" Ron inquired, holding out the frosty pitcher to her.

Ginny shook her head frantically.

"No, no, thank you!" she chirped brightly. "Just not in the mood."

"Don't you need something to drink with that?" he replied, gesturing to her rather salty potatoes and roast beef.

"I think I'm perfectly capable of deciding whether or not I want something to drink, Ron, so kindly bugger off," Ginny snapped. Ron scowled at her and turned back to Harry, rolling his eyes at his sister's obvious battiness.

She bolted her food, hoping no one would notice.

"Are you serving a detention or something, Ginny?" Harry asked. She stared at him quizzically.

"You're still wearing your robes," he elaborated. Most of the students at least shed their robes after a long day.

"I'm just cold, is all," she said. "Excuse me."

With that, she exited the Great Hall as quickly as she could, breaking into a run after the huge doors shut behind her. Panting, she pulled up in front of the prefect's bath, nearly shouting out the password.

Though her urge to urinate was not particularly strong, it would certainly become so. Standing in the private toilet stall, she hauled her off her robes, jumper and skirt, leaving her in battered oxfords and green lingerie.

Closing her eyes, and willing herself to be calm, Ginny began the task of trying to remove the clothing. The progression of her success and ensuing mood were roughly equal to what they had been before. But she realized something worse. The fabric wouldn't even peel away from her skin. It stayed firmly in place, like a second skin.

She stood in place and screamed.

After screaming, she felt a measure calmer, but rage still bubbled hot and ready just below her volatile surface. Her bladder seemed to be burning with the need to be relieved, and there was nothing else she could do.

She dressed again and began to pick her way from the prefect's bath to Draco Malfoy's room.

***

A bold knock sounded on his portrait and Draco looked up from his desk. He had wondered how long it would take her to come down here for him to remove her little frock.

Striding smugly to the door, he opened it and was met with her open palm laying a stinging blow to his fair cheek. Instantly, his hand went to soothe the sore spot, and in his moment of pain, she darted inside and slammed the door.

Before he could even begin to ask if that was how her mother taught her to greet her host, she whirled on him, brown eyes filled with tears.

"You bastard!" she hissed, silver tracks rolling down her face. "I have to go to the lav."

Dumbstruck, he stared at her for a moment before breaking out in a rollicking laugh unbecoming to a Malfoy.

"Weasley," he managed between guffaws. "Even I'm not that cruel."

"What?" she questioned, her voice going up a sharp note and hands resting on her hips.

"There's…there's a snap on it," he said, laughing even more, face turning red from the effort.

"I bloody well know there's a seam!" she shouted, turning her back to him and pointing it out. "You know damn good and well I cannot open it!"

"No, no. Between your legs. There's a snap that opens," he snickered, staggering back onto his bed under the weight of the hilarity. "You thought I'd let you soil that? Come on. Even Death Eaters don't want to deal with piss and shit."

He watched with stunning clarity as her face twisted into an unreadable expression, but one that was shot with humiliation, anger, and hate.

She turned smartly on her heel and raced into his private lavatory. Her face burned with embarrassment. She'd never even checked to see if there was any sort of gusset or split seam to allow nature's most basic function. Locating his toilet behind a small privacy wall, she gingerly felt for the small snap that released the crotch of the teddy.

It gave way and she relieved herself. Recalling his earlier, rather crude comment, she cast a powerful freshening spell on herself. She might have to undergo the indignity of having him undress her, but she would not be anything but clean when he did it.

Finishing in the bathroom, she emerged to find him lounging on his bed and now clad in pajama bottoms and nothing else.

"Better now?" he drawled. Apparently, he was over his derisive laughter.

"No thanks to you," she returned. "Get me out of this."

"With pleasure," he smirked, patting the bed beside him.

"You think I'm going to fall for that?" she blustered.

"I have to touch the seams to make them unlock. And I'm not moving. You want out of that silk and lace, you'd better come over here."

She stood her ground for a moment, then looked up to the oak-beamed ceiling and wondered why the Fates hated her.

Dragging her heels, she walked over and stood next to the side of his bed, between him and the window. Silently, she presented her back to him.

"I told you I have to touch the seams."

She sighed heavily and her hands bolted to the clasp on her robes.

"Not so fast," he said, reaching out lightning-quick to stop her haste. Lightly, he slapped her fingers away. "Let me."

Nimbly he released the catch. Very slowly, he drew the robe off her, letting it fall to the ground.

"Turn around," he rasped. "I'd like to see my purchase modeled a bit."

"Fat chance of that, Malfoy," she snarled. He smirked in response, and merely ogled her shapely legs in the stockings and admired the way the teddy framed the curve of her arse.

"Hmm," he murmured, then used both hands to stroke her buttocks. "Lovely."

"Hey!" she sputtered indignantly, turning around. "Get your hands off me!"

And then she realized she had done exactly what he asked her to do.

His cool gray eyes roved over her breasts, lingered over the relatively flat expanse of her abdomen.

"I knew you'd look brilliant in this," he said. "Took me forever to find it."

"Do you like humiliating me, Malfoy?" she asked tartly.

"Yes," he said honestly, answering far too quickly and surely for her liking. "I find your humiliation particularly enticing."

She scowled at him and crossed her arms over her chest, presenting her back to him again for expedient removal of the lingerie.

"Don't you want to know why?" he asked, pulling her between his legs as he sat squarely on the edge of the bed. He perched his chin on her shoulder.

"I really don't care to know," she said.

"It makes your nipples hard," he announced. "It's like your blush is connected right to your tits."

"For fuck's sake, Malfoy, get me out of this!" she yelled impatiently.

"Indeed," he murmured into her ear.


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