Chapter 26: The Hogsmeade Heat wave and the Unbuckled Fortress part-1
It wasn't just embarrassment anymore. It was excitement. It was a heavy, thumping desire that Harry was trying desperately to suppress. The "Dream Weaver" potion had done its work. Harry wasn't just dreading the next accident; part of him was waiting for it.
(Excellent,) I thought, deactivating the link. (The corruption is taking root.)
I packed up my telescope.
"Mr. Weasley," Professor Sinistra called out. "Where are you going? You haven't sketched Venus yet."
"Sorry, Professor," I said, heading for the stairs. "But I think I have seen enough heavenly bodies for one night."
Professor Sinistra blinked, looking confused, while Malfoy snickered from the shadows.
I descended the stairs, whistling a cheerful tune. The wind howled outside, but inside my head, everything was calm.
Tomorrow was the weekend. And weekends meant Hogsmeade.
Hogsmeade meant the Shrieking Shack. And Zonko's. And the Three Broomsticks.
And, if I played my cards right, it meant that Hermione Granger was going to have a very difficult time enjoying her Butterbeer.
I checked the System Shop again as I walked.
New Item Unlocked: The Poltergeist Proxy (300 points).Description: Allows the user to manifest a minor, invisible force capable of untying knots, unbuckling belts and pinching targets from a distance of fifty meters.
I grinned. I had 310 points.
(Purchase Poltergeist Proxy.)
"Purchase successful."
I flexed my fingers. Invisible, remote-controlled pinching and unbuckling.
Hermione didn't stand a chance.
The path to Hogsmeade village was buried under three feet of pristine, white snow. A biting wind howled down from the mountains, stinging the cheeks of the students trudging toward the village for the first weekend trip of the year.
Most students were shivering in their cloaks. Hermione Granger, however, looked like a walking, pink marshmallow.
"I am taking absolutely no chances," Hermione declared, her voice muffled by layers of synthetic fabric. "This is a Muggle extreme-weather survival suit. It is rated for temperatures of forty degrees below zero. It is waterproof, windproof and crucially, it is a single, continuous piece of clothing. No skirts to fly up. No buttons to pop. Just one heavy-duty zipper that I have locked with a padlock."
She tapped the small brass padlock securing the zipper at her neck.
Harry Potter walked beside her, looking both impressed and vaguely terrified. He was bundled in his winter cloak and a Gryffindor scarf. Since the "Astronomy Tower Incident," Harry had developed a nervous tic where he would constantly scan Hermione's outfit for structural weaknesses.
"It looks... secure," Harry admitted. "But Hermione, are you sure it is breathable? You look a bit flushed."
"I am fine," Hermione insisted, though sweat was already beading on her forehead. "I would rather be boiled alive than flash the village of Hogsmeade."
I walked a few paces behind them, my hands deep in my pockets, suppressing a wicked grin.
(System check,) I thought.
Current Status:Name: Ron WeasleyActive Skill: Poltergeist Proxy (Active)Current Goal: Trigger an incident at The Three Broomsticks.
(The Poltergeist Proxy,) I mused. (An invisible force capable of manipulating objects remotely. Let us test its dexterity.)
I focused my mind. I didn't need a wand. I just needed visualization. I imagined a pair of invisible, mischievous hands reaching out toward Hermione's walking fortress.
(Target: The internal layers.)
Hermione was wearing the snowsuit over her regular clothes. I knew she was wearing jeans and a jumper underneath.
(Poltergeist Proxy: Phase through the outer layer.)
The invisible force was subtle. It bypassed the heavy waterproof exterior. I directed the force to her waist.
Click.
I unbuckled her belt.
Hermione paused mid-step, frowning. She wiggled her hips slightly.
"What is it?" Harry asked, instantly on high alert.
"Nothing," Hermione muttered. "Just... shifted a bit. This suit is bulky."
I pressed on.
(Poltergeist Proxy: Unbutton the jeans.)
Pop.
The metal button of her jeans came undone. Now, only the zipper was holding them up.
(Poltergeist Proxy: Lower the zipper.)
Zzzzip.
It was a slow, controlled descent. Hermione stopped again, her eyes widening.
"Did you hear that?" she whispered.
"Hear what?" I asked innocently, catching up to them. "The wind?"
"I heard a zipper," Hermione hissed. she patted the outside of her snowsuit. The external zipper was still padlocked. "No... it must be my imagination. I am hearing things now. Great. I am going mad."
"Let us just get to the Three Broomsticks," Harry said soothingly, taking her arm. "A nice Butterbeer will calm your nerves."
We continued the trek. As we walked, I continued my invisible work. I unhooked the clasp of her bra through her jumper. I untied her shoelaces inside her heavy snow boots. I essentially dismantled her entire internal wardrobe while the external shell remained perfectly intact.
She was a walking disaster waiting to be unwrapped.
We arrived at the Three Broomsticks. The pub was packed. A blast of heat, laughter and the smell of sweet butterscotch hit us as we opened the door. The fireplace was roaring and the room was stiflingly hot compared to the freezing storm outside.
"Table for three?" Madam Rosmerta called out, bustling through the crowd with a tray of steaming mugs. "Over in the corner, dears!"
We squeezed through the crowd. I noticed Harry's eyes darting around, checking for tripping hazards, sharp corners, or suspicious liquids. He was learning.
We reached the corner booth. It was right next to the roaring fire.
"Phew!" I exclaimed, taking off my cloak. "It is roasting in here!"
"It certainly is," Harry agreed, unwinding his scarf. He looked at Hermione. Her face was bright red. She was sweating profusely inside her pink survival suit.
"Hermione, you have to take that thing off," Harry said. "You are going to get heatstroke."
"I... I suppose you are right," Hermione panted. "It is a bit warm."
She reached for the key to the padlock around her neck. Her hands were shaking, partly from the cold outside and partly from anxiety.
"Here, let me help," Harry offered.
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