Thursday

Shortening her skirt was easy, with magic. Just a simple charm and her knee length skirt changed to something covering half the distance to them, still concealing most of her precious area but leaving most of her lower thigh exposed. A miniskirt, she assumed it was. To her surprise, wearing it felt somewhat naughty, in a good way. She imagined that anyone looking at her couldn't tell the difference, covered by school robes as she was, but just knowing she was exposing more of her legs than ever before made her feel good. Almost good enough to make her less annoyed at Har—Potter's indecent request from the day before. She glared at him a few times that day for good measure.
After dinner, she decided not to visit him, and instead worked on an optional essay for Transfiguration. A part of her was a bit sad at potentially losing a… friend? Ally? But she didn't want him to think she was as easy as her dorm mate Lavender Brown, who Hermione was sure of was not a virgin any longer and had in fact gotten quite the reputation.
"I bet Harry shagged her, too," she muttered to herself as she revised a paragraph over the implications of changing living animals to inanimate objects. Intellectually she knew it was none of her business who Harry was or was not shagging, but why did the thought of him with Lavender upset her so? Unwillingly the thought strayed to the tissue in the waste bin, and its sticky contents. "Disgusting," she muttered to herself, imagining she could still feel and smell it.
A suddenly loud noise from below brought her back to her senses and she was embarrassed to realize her left hand had trailed to her upper thigh and that she was slowly clenching her legs.
"Focus, Granger," she instructed herself. School work came first.

Friday

Hermione was startled from her breakfast when an unfamiliar white snowy owl dropped a package in front of her, addressed to Hermione Granger.
"Thank you?" she said, offering it a strip of bacon which the bird snatched before flying off.
"Mail from home?" one of her dorm mates, Parvati Patil, asked.
"I guess, I wasn't expecting anything though," Hermione said. She opened the package and found a pair of white stockings inside, along with a note saying: "I think these'll look good on you. HP."
Closing the package quickly before anyone else could see the contents she looked around the table for Harry, but he was nowhere to be found.
"I forgot something in my room," she declared to Parvati, then walked back to the Gryffindor Tower. As she sat on her bed holding the stockings she had to admit they looked nice and comfortable. Fighting a blush that appeared on her face for no reason she could tell she pulled them over her legs one at the time before going back down and on to classes.

She held back a little after Ancient Runes so that Harry had to walk past her and when he did, she said "Thanks for the gift. I'll be there after dinner," to which he nodded as he walked on. She was in a much better mood for the rest of their classes, so of course everything had to go wrong after leaving Herbology with the Slytherins. One inattentive moment around a corner of the greenhouse was all it took for Hermione to get cut off from sight of the other Gryffindors and any teachers, and she was caught by a spell, Levicorpus, and found herself dangling in the air, hoisted by her own ankle.
"Nice stockings, Mudblood!" the hated voice of Draco Malfoy sneered at her. In the instant before her robes fell down she saw the Slytherin was holding his wand, keeping it trained at her. Hermione frantically fought to keep her skirt from falling down, which was hard to do as her robes had already fallen and were making it hard to keep her arms pressed against her body.
"Show us her knickers, boss," the gruff voice of Crabbe-or-Goyle came. She heard some others sniggering, indicating she was in front of a crowd. Not that she could tell, with her robes and hair covering her eyes.
"Trying to! What's the matter, Mudblood? Afraid?" Malfoy sneered. Hermione felt herself being swung from side to side, making it more and more likely she accidentally would let go and reveal herself and—"
"What the devil are you doing?" the voice of her Herbology teacher sounded. "Off with you and don't you dare try this again! Liberacorpus!"
That last was aimed at Hermione and she fell in a crumpled heap on the ground.
"Heavens, it's you, Granger," Professor Sprout said, helping her up. "Some boys had you dangling from your foot… I haven't seen that since I was a student here myself."
"Thank you, ma'am," Hermione sniffled. "It was so sudden."
"Did you happen to see who they were? Do you want to have them brought before the Deputy Headmistress?" Professor Sprout asked.
"No, no idea," Hermione lied. She had learned long ago nothing good ever came from snitching on her fellow students.
"Hrmpf." Professor Sprout obviously did not believe her, but let her leave.

As she entered Harry's office later that evening and hung up her robe, Hermione was still shaken. So much so that she didn't even hear what he said the first time. "Sorry, what?"
"I said, I like your skirt, Hermione. And glad to see you liked my gift."
"Oh. Yes. Thank you," she said almost mechanically. Part of her wondered if he had given her stockings because he knew how embarrassing it was for her to show off her lower thighs with a shorter skirt.
"Tell me about your day," Harry prompted.
"Are you going to… you know… again?" she asked, hesitatingly.
"Am I going to what?"
"You know… that thing..."
"No idea what you mean. Start talking," Harry said, his right arm already beneath his desk.
Sighing, she started telling him about her experience, including how the Slytherin bullies had caught her. Sure enough, by the time she reached that point Harry had grunted and was now cleaning up as she refused to look in his direction.
"Interesting. Here, dispose of this for me, will you?" Harry asked, tossing her something. She caught it by instinct, only realizing what it was when the warm, sticky liquid drenching the tissue started to seep through on her hand. Hermione let out a weird squeak as she looked from it to him, unbelieving this was really happening.
"Once again, you were a passive victim, Hermione," Harry said, speaking as if the did not notice her discomfort. "You were frozen by fear. Why?"
"I… I..." She looked down at her hand again. Why was she still holding this… thing? She should get rid of it, right?"
"Hermione? I asked you a question."
"Sorry, sir," she said, flushing. She had to get rid of it. She tossed it over to the waste bin, but unfortunately it fell next to it on the floor. "Oh! I didn't mean to..."
"It's okay. Clean it up and answer the question," Harry said.
"You mean I have to..." she looked back at him and swallowed. "Yes sir." She walked to the waste bin, ducked down, and shuddered as she picked it up once more and then dropped it inside the bin. Her hand felt sticky and wet.
"I'm still waiting," Harry prompted.
"Sorry! I… I was afraid they'd see my knickers," she mumbled.
"I didn't quite catch that. Try again from the normal spot," Harry said.
"Yes sir," she said, walking back to the front of the desk. "I was frozen by fear because I was afraid they would see my knickers if I moved, sir," she said. A small part of her mind wondered why she had started calling him 'sir', as if he was a Professor. Was it because he was teaching her, even if it was not a class?
"And that embarrassed you?"
"Yes..."
"I see. Well, show me your knickers then."
"Harry! I told you, I can't!" she exclaimed.
"Do you want my help or not?" he asked, sounding calm. "As long as you keep being so easily embarrassed, you're an easy target for the bullies. I need to desensitize you to them. So, show me your knickers."
"But…" she sighed. "Yes sir." Feeling a blush creeping up quickly, she lifted the hem of her skirt, revealing the front of her knickers to him. She was wearing plain white ones today, as she did most days.
"They are rather plain, are they not?" Harry asked. She realized he was staring at her knickers intently, causing her blush to intensify.
"These are the only ones I have," she defended herself. "It's not as if anyone has ever seen them..."
"Except for me. And you, of course," Harry said.
"Yes. Can I drop my skirt now, please?"
"Not yet. Turn around, let me see the back."
"Please..." she didn't want him to look any more. She wanted this to be over.

"I'm waiting."
With a sigh, she turned around, shifting her hands to raise the back of her skirt now. Although she could not see him now she felt she could see his gaze on her, drinking in the sight of her just-a-bit-too-fat-for-her-liking bum.
"That's enough," Harry finally said after a few moments. "I want you to order some sexier underwear. Ask your room mates for an owl order catalogue, if you must."
She turned back around, happy to being able to drop her skirt. "But Harry, why?"
"Wearing sexy underwear will make you feel more confident. And that's what you want, isn't it? Being more confident and stopping the bullying?"
"I guess..."
"Excellent. Lesson over. For our next lesson, I want you to unbutton the bottom of your skirt, too. Show a little midriff."
"Let me guess. For confidence?" Hermione asked, sighing.
"Exactly. Until tomorrow, then." He left through his back door, leaving Hermione alone with her thoughts. And a waste bin containing tissue… she brought the fingers of her right hand up to her nose and sniffed them. There was a small scent left, but she realized most of it would've been wiped off on her skirt when she'd raised it to show off her knickers. She felt herself flush all over as she went back to her dorm room.

Saturday

No classes meant sleeping late for most students, but not Hermione. She was agonizing over an Owl Order catalogue for Morgana's Secret, a witch only store from one of Diagon Alley's side streets which according to Hermione was a blatant rip-off of the Muggle Victoria's chain, trying to pick out some not too revealing but still somewhat naughty underwear.
Picking out a few pairs she filled out the form and sent it off with a school owl before going down to breakfast. She thought she saw both Weasley and Malfoy leering at her, so she decided to not go to Hogsmeade with the rest of the students, not wanting to give either gang an easy target, and instead spent the rest of the day in the library, studying. She did happen to see Susan Bones from Hufflepuff draped all over Harry's arm as they left for Hogsmeade, causing her to wonder why she felt jealous of Harry having a date. It wasn't as if they were friends, let alone dating, after all. All he was to her was an instructor in an unofficial class.
Wasn't he?

A few hours of studying and leisure reading later she realized with a shock it was past dinner time, and she hadn't eaten anything. She made a detour past the kitchens where the House Elves made her some sandwiches—and wasn't that another embarrassing thing from her school year, her whole S.P.E.W. episode where she had nearly cause the entire race of House Elves to hate her… fortunately the Head Girl of that year had stepped in and had given Hermione a lecture about what she was doing and what her misconceptions were. Hermione still felt a bit ashamed whenever she had to ask an Elf to do something, but at least she would not be shunned by them any longer.
Anyway, that wasn't what she had to think about now. She stood in front of Harry's door only a little late, and knocked.
No answer came, so she knocked again. And again. She frowned. Had he forgotten about her, or was she so late he had given up and gone elsewhere? She tried the doorknob, it was of course closed. But that was nothing an 'Alohamora' could not fix.
Spell cast she went inside and shivered as she realized she stepped through a spell barrier of some kind. A silencing spell, as became abundantly clear a moment later. The sound of creaking bedsprings and moans could be heard from the door to Harry's bedroom and Hermione felt herself drawn closer despite herself.
"Oh, Harry…" a girl's voice moaned. Hermione could not help it, she had to know for sure. She leaned against the door-frame and watched through the keyhole. A red-haired girl with massive breasts was bouncing up and down on top of a slender but muscular body topped by a head with massive black hair…
Hermione stumbled back as if physically struck. She knew that Harry had a playboy reputation, but for her to find out he was actually having sex with Susan Bones, niece to the Minister for Magic? That was a little hard to take. Unwanted tears welling up from her eyes she silently left his office room, closing and locking the door behind her, before running to her bed to cry over something. She wasn't quite sure what she was so upset about, only that she was.

Sunday

She tried to avoid Harry all day. Not that that was so hard, with his active social life and her active… lack of one. She couldn't help but feeling both jealousy and hatred towards Susan Bones, who was sitting at the Hufflepuff table at breakfast and lunch, chatting with her friends as if she had not gotten fantastically laid by the Gryffindor Golden Boy the previous night.
After dinner she wasn't sure if she wanted to confront him, but eventually she stood in front of his door again and knocked. Upon hearing an 'Enter!' she went inside, finding Harry at his desk again.
"Hermione? What are you doing here?" he wondered.
"After dinner lessons, right? I tried to get in yesterday but..."
"Right, right. I'm sorry, I thought you realized that weekends were off the schedule," Harry said. "I was busy last night, must've not heard you knock."
"Busy shagging that slut," Hermione muttered. He must've heard something though, because he asked her to repeat herself.
"Nothing, sir. I'm sorry for interrupting your evening. Tomorrow, then?" she asked, looking down at her feet.
"Actually, lets change things up a bit. We both have a free period after lunch each day, right?" he asked. She confirmed, so he continued. "I want you to report here for that free period. We'll change your lessons to then, with the occasional evening as well. That fine with you?"

"Sure," she said, still looking down.
"Okay. Now, show me your knickers before you go."
She flushed. "Embarrassment training, right?" Not getting or expecting an answer, she lifted up her skirt for him again.
"Still plain white," he remarked.
"I've ordered new ones, they should be here tomorrow at the earliest," Hermione defended herself. She looked past him to the door to his bedroom and unwanted memories came to mind of what she had heard and seen there. She wondered how good in bed he was… Susan definitely had looked like she had been enjoying herself.
"Is that a wet spot, Hermione?" Harry asked.
Mortified, she dropped her skirt, stammering something intelligible as she rushed out. She thought she heard a laugh as she ran away.
When she arrived at her dorm she pulled her underwear down, finding nothing. Had he teased her, or had it dried up in the mean time? The worst part was that she had no way to tell. She didn't like that the thought of him having sex might make her wet, but she couldn't deny that it did. That line of thought proved to be very distracting, though, so she surreptitiously cast a silencing spell on her bed curtains after pulling them closed, then set about to take care of some of her frustration.
After collapsing in bed satisfied, she giggled to herself, thinking that if wizards knew what witches used vibrating charms on their wands for, they'd probably never look at a stick the same way again.

Monday

Another package arrived at breakfast, a suspiciously neutral cardboard box addressed to her but otherwise devoid of identification. Several other witches had knowing smirks on their faces when Hermione opened the box at the table, let out a squeak, and ran off with it to her dorm. Her sexy undies had arrived. She decided to change into one for that day, deciding on a lacy black one. Even just the idea of putting it on made her blush, a blush that stubbornly refused to go away until her first classes started. Learning made her forget her embarrassment though, so by the time her free after lunch period arrived and she made her way to Harry's office, she was no longer feeling shame.
"They came, see?" she blurted out, lifting up her skirt unasked once she entered.
"Looking good, Hermione," Harry said, nodding. "Hand them over, please."
"W… what?" she stammered, letting her skirt drop down.
"Please hand over your knickers. It's time for the next phase of your confidence training."
"But… I have no time to change in another pair and—"
"I'm not asking you to put on another pair, Hermione. I'm telling you to give me your knickers."
"Yes sir," she said, swallowing. Fighting her blush she pushed them down her hips, grateful for the skirt still covering her. Letting them drop to the floor, she blushed as she picked them up and handed them over to Harry, her hands shaking slightly.
"Excellent. Enjoy your classes, and meet me back here after dinner when I'll return them to you," Harry said, dismissing her.

Enjoying classes was of course impossible. Intellectually she knew nobody could tell she was going commando under her skirt, with the robes still covering her entire body, but she knew. And that was enough to make her feel very self-conscious. Perhaps she imagined Harry smirking at her a few times throughout the day, perhaps he really was, but either way she was very much aware at least one person could tell and could reveal her to the entire school by just flipping up her robe and skirt. That realization caused her to be extra careful of Weasley and Draco, just in case they'd try something, so it was a relief when she finally made her way to Harry's office again.
"How was your day, Hermione?" Harry asked. She went on to tell him about how every eye seemed to be on her, making no secret of feeling so embarrassed.
"Excellent. Your training is going very well. Here are your knickers," Harry said, tossing her a crumbled up ball.
Hermione unrolled them to find them covered in the same sticky stuff she had seen in his tissues several times. She turned pale. "What… what happened to them?"
"It's part of your training. Well? Aren't you going to put them on?"
"You want me to… wear… these?"
"They are your knickers, aren't they? Well, go ahead."
"I can't believe you're making me do this," she muttered, reluctantly stepping in them. As she worked them up her legs she shivered from the cold and sticky sensation. "Disgusting," she muttered, shivering. "Well, I guess the House Elves will clean them at least..."
"Show me how they look on you," Harry said.
This time she raised her skirt without even a sigh.
"Looks good. That will be all for today. Oh, and I had a thought. You can lose the bra."
Hermione resisted rolling her eyes. "Let me guess, confidence?"
"Of course. And it's not as if you need one, is it? Off you go."
As she left his office, walking carefully to try to avoid much contact between her soiled knickers and herself, she wondered if she should feel offended or complimented about not needing a bra. Was he implying her breasts were nice and firm, or that they were too small? The thought kept her distracted until she stripped down for bed, by this point not even caring about the state of her knickers any longer.