Harry Potter and Cho Chang are seated together in the stands of Hogwarts' football pitch (that's 'soccer field' in the US.) They're at the divide between Gryffindor and Ravenclaw sections. They can actually survive cheering as they wish. That's mostly for their friends on the field. Yes, it's an intramural match between those houses. The other students let them cheer - they're actually expected to. The two of them give each other good-natured grief over their loyalties. More than a few punches to the arm or stomach are delivered by the smiling Cho when Harry cheers for Hermione. Hermione, in turn, is giving him many reasons to cheer. She's playing center middle and having a very strong game. This isn't Quidditch. Hermione actually does understand football. This is a match of mixed teams of fifth year students. Harry is also cheering whenever Ron Weasley makes a save as goalkeeper.
Two very tired teams leave the field after Gryffindor wins. Harry and Cho catch up with Hermione for a round of congratulations. Cho is sincere, but wraps her congratulations in a little teasing of Harry. Harry is duly embarrassed because it's a reference to the time Cho beat him.
"W ... Well played, Hermione. It took a long time to beat you at Quidditch, so we'll manage at football soon enough," she says with a sly look at Hermione and an elbow to Harry.
This is remarkable. She only stammered once and the body language is so unlike her. Cho is normally painfully shy with those not in her tight circle of close friends. Harry got close to her by showing that spark of interest in her as a girlfriend. Hermione and Ron got into her circle as friends of Harry. They have her close confidence, but it's taken months.
Harry and Cho have their sport, Quidditch, and position as seekers in common. Everyone wonders how such a shy, reserved girl can chase so wildly after the snitch. Hermione and Ron have just demonstrated that they're not total couch potatoes. Hermione, in particular, is likely for the school girls' football team sometime in the next three years. Ron bounces up to them, slaps Hermione on the back and praises her for the great game. Why is it that keepers always have such energy after a match?
Hermione remains the center of attention when a prefect interrupts the group. She's needed in Professor Dumbledore's office at once. She checks her watch. The football match had a late start, now she's late. Knackered and sweaty, she nonetheless runs through the halls trying to remember the password. She does remember it, gets past the guardian and dashes up to the headmaster's office. The stairs are quite as difficult as the match in her state. She stops at the door of his office, takes two deep breaths, then knocks.
She's invited in by the voice of the headmaster. Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall are seated by his desk examining the contents of an old box.
"Ah, Hermione. Just the one to try this," Dumbledore greets her.
Hermione becomes apprehensive. Oh, she trusts her professors. It's her own ability to succeed at something that needs to be tried that scares her.
Professor Dumbledore lifts a cloth garment from the box and holds it up for Hermione to see. It's a full form human figure complete with hood. The legs have feet and the feet have toes. The arms have gloves and the gloves have fingers. The hood appears to have no holes for mouth, nose or eyes. Hermione becomes all the more apprehensive.
"This is for you. It is yet another step in the development of our prize student," Professor McGonagall tells her. "It is a complete covering suit. There are no holes, but you will be able to see and breathe through the fabric."
Hermione walks closer and gazes at the suit. It's a little smaller than herself all over. Professor Dumbledore pulls on an arm to show that it is very stretchy. It will have to be. The only way into it is through the small neck-sized opening at the base of the hood. Professor McGonagall takes the suit and passes it to Hermione.
"Model it for us," Professor Dumbledore says in a tone that doesn't just request.
There's no obvious place to change clothes in the headmaster's office. Professor Dumbledore has thoughtfully put his nose and eyes into a book. Professor McGonagall smiles and nods to encourage Hermione. The youngster knows she won't get the stretchy suit on over her shoes, shorts or sweater. She will keep her underwear on, though. She kicks off her shoes, peels down her socks and strips the sweater over her head. She checks that Professor Dumbledore's attention is still on his book while she sets the sweater over the back of a chair. Her shorts come off, leaving her in just panties and bra. She doesn't feel too bad, just out of place and a little self-conscious. The underwear is more modest than the bikini she swims in.
She sits in the chair and addresses the stretchy suit. She gathers the body so the neck opening is right above the legs. The opening easily pulls wide enough to pull up over her legs. Each leg slides right into the suit and her feet go all the way into its feet. She pulls the suit up to her chest. Her arms slide easily into the suit with her hands in the gloves. The gloves let her grip well while pulling the suit over her shoulders. The stretchy suit stays tight against all of her. It only needs a little stretch to do that. She pulls the hood up over her head. Her hair is a wild mane after being windblown all through the football match. She tucks in all that hair. When she pulls the hood down over her face, a flap at the bottom of the hood forms tightly around her throat and overlaps the fabric below. She finds that the fabric is indeed thin enough to see and breathe through. It's as easy to see through as sheer nylon hose. We won't ask how she knows about that.
She stands straight and turns to her professors. They both seem to have their attention on her now. She looks down at herself, too. Her entire body is encased in the suit and appears a solid gray color. She's surprised her white underwear doesn't show through when it's so easy for her to see out. Lines and texture of the underwear do show prominently under the tight stretch. She's quite nervous about the scrutiny she's getting, so her attention goes back to her professors.
She notices that both of them seem to focus somewhere away from her. It's as if they don't really see her. Professor Dumbledore merely nods. Professor McGonagall pulls a large black cloth over her head. Nothing else seems to change. Hermione and the professor can still see each other. Hermione can't figure out why the professor needs the black cloth.
"It fits well. Just enough stretch for complete contact," Professor McGonagall pronounces. "Of course it will be better when you wear it with nothing else."
She put a black cloth over her head to say that? Hermione does get the reference to all the underwear lines. She noticed them herself.
"We want you to wear that suit, Hermione, as you skulk about the school and grounds. There is much to learn," Professor Dumbledore instructs.
"You want me to spy?" Hermione asks incredulously.
Professor Dumbledore finally faces Hermione when he hears her and answers, "We want you to learn for yourself. Report only what you need help with. We suspect that won't be much."
Hermione grabs the flap at the base of the hood where it overlaps the trunk of the suit. She peels the hood up and back. Professor McGonagall quickly snatches the black cloth away from her head at the same time. Hermione stares at the professors as she lets the instructions sink in. She appears to need more.
"You need to learn more worldly things - learn by watching and doing. All your books have taught you a great deal about magic, the school and the history of our wizard realm. You are becoming quite a young witch. All that has to be tempered with learning about life. Skulk about in days when you can, evenings and especially at night," Professor Dumbledore tries to persuade her.
Hermione thinks as she removes the stretchy suit. She trusts these professors. They have taught, guided and given her privilege far beyond what they've done for any other student, even Harry. They've let her do magic with time and given her full access to all the shelves of the library. She begins to understand that this is another of those rare gifts. She doesn't notice that both professors' eyes stay on her all while she's removing the suit and replacing her original clothes.
At last she nods her agreement, reluctant as it is. Professor McGonagall hands her the box with the suit in it. She leaves the office and returns to the Gryffindor tower.
Aldus and Minerva know that Hermione will stick to the limit of the rules. They also know that one word from either of them will reposition that limit in her mind. Their instruction, permission or even a hint make it right for her.
"But why?" Minerva asks Aldus.
"Mostly as I said. She needs to learn of the world. I mean for her to learn of relationships and the forces that drive them. We have gone through a long drought with only ordinary witches and wizards going through the school. Now we have two exceptional students in one class. Harry is naturally powerful in the extreme. Hermione has to work harder and does that almost to the exclusion of all else. She mustn't exclude so much," Aldus replies.
Most of her housemates are in the commons, nearly ready for supper. Hermione has to dash through her shower. The alone-time gives her a chance to think.
Skulk they say, so skulk she will. Wear the suit without underwear, they say. She'll do that, too.
After supper, Ginny Weasley leaves her roommate Hermione to the serious studies. Ginny wants to have what time she can with Neville. Hermione gives short shrift to her homework. There's none of her usual extra reading either. That suit and the instruction to skulk are weighing on her.
She starts bare. She stretches the neck opening and slides her feet and legs into the suit. They go in as easily as before. She notices that the legs have a seam up the insides of her legs and are seemlessly smooth around the outside where it shows more. The main thing she notices is that the seam is crooked and wavy. There's also a flap and second layer to the fabric along the outside of her right thigh. A pocket? It's about ten inches long and an inch wide with a two-inch wide section at the top near the opening. She decides there will be plenty of time for straightening seams and looking after pockets when she gets the suit to cover her very exposed chest. She pulls it up to her bust, slides her hands and arms in, then finishes pulling it over her shoulders. That part goes as easily as before, too. She leaves the hood hanging behind her.
The trunk of the suit has a seam down the center of the back, under her and up the center of her front. That seam drives into the separation of her posterior and keeps the suit pressed tightly against her chest between her breasts. That seam also sinks deeply into the separation of her vulva. The suit is more explicitly tight than it seemed when she was wearing underwear beneath it. She thinks briefly of backing out of the skulking and thinks a little longer about backing out of the no underwear thing. Her professors' words come back to her and rebuild her resolve.
She reaches to her legs to straighten the inseams. They're no longer crooked. They're not straight either. They're gone. So is the pocket. Those places are now solid gray like the rest of the suit. The seam up the middle of her front vanishes before her wide eyes. Her apprehension returns for a moment. She accepts that the suit is magical. She raises an eyebrow at the convenience of such a magical suit. She's reminded how thin the fabric is all over her. Every ripple of her trim belly, the indentation of her navel and the mound of each of her breasts is clearly visible under the thin fabric. She stands and moves. The suit stretches perfectly. She can't feel anything pressing or sliding on her.
She touches with her hands at her hip, over her belly and up to her breasts. It's almost alarming how that all feels like her skin, not at all like cloth. The fabric of the suit has gone absolutely skin tight. It shows every detail and feels exactly like her skin - smoothly soft girly skin over her firm rippling muscles. No, she realizes, the suit isn't skin tight. Her skin is now suit-colored. The details of her body show - absolutely every detail - but all the skin and landmarks of different color are now all of that dull gray shade.
She sits and examines her toes and sees every detail of her nails and joints, even where she had to trim out a chip where someone stepped on her during the football match. Her ankles stretch without wrinkles when she flexes her foot. Her calves ripple, but they nor the shins show the bruises she got in the match. They're all gray. There are no bulky wrinkles around her knees like she gets with hose - it's all like her skin. Her thighs have curves in front and back and smoothly ripple with the strength she's most proud of. A tingling sensation starts when she runs her hands lightly up the inner edge of those thighs.
The most alarming details are in her vulva. The suit reveals her labia, the slit between them and the small protruding clitoral hood at the end of the slit. Yes, she knows her anatomy by proper names. She checks her buttocks by feel. They're round and tight as ever. Everything is like her skin there, too. She's beginning to feel very bare. That awareness and all the touching around her sensitive places is starting to get to her. She squirms where she's sitting on the bed.
Her hands run over her rippling belly again. She likes feeling strong and doesn't mind that she looks that way. It's not like she's bulging. She'll leave that to Harry. She still likes to be firm. She decides that's a good description of her small perky breasts. They look and feel like bare skin, too. Her nipples and all the little bumps are there in full detail as if not covered at all. It is strange for all that to be one color, though. Maybe the color will help with her skulking, but these feelings will have to go. They're too sexy and distracting.
She finds herself absently running her fingers around her vulva. She notices that all her pubic hair is magically gone. She finds the soft smoothness a little exciting. She usually handles these feelings this way and is used to the neatly trimmed hair that stays under her bikini. Now there's none. Her mind jumps to the hood. She pulls it up, tucks in her mane and pulls the hood over her face. She checks with her hands. Her head feels like a bald scalp - no strands cascading down around her face and no bulges of tucked hair in the hood.
Her hands wander back to her breasts and vulva. She finds her nipples hard and distended. They hurt so nicely when she pinches them. There's no feeling of cloth in the way and no need to reach under her nightshirt. Tingles run all over her chest. Where she would normally be flushed red by that, her color stays solid gray. She finds her vulva wet. Yes, she's going quite far with these feelings and hopes Ginny doesn't walk in. She explores some more. The wetness isn't in any cloth. It's as natural as when she does this naked.
She tries to press a finger into her vagina. That's where she finds some cloth. She can normally get at least one finger in there. Now the suit is blocking her way. That's one part of the sensation she decides to do without. She's getting plenty of tingling from her inner thighs, inner and outer lips and her clitoris. Oh, yes, that little nub has come out of its hood and demands her attention. That's normal and Hermione knows just what attention to give it. She rubs all those sensitive places around her vulva with one hand and rubs her breasts with the other.
Her breathing gets fast and deep - almost like gasps. The gasps get a little more squealy as she gets closer to orgasm. Her fingers dig in to her vulva and one presses into her vagina. Her other hand smashes her nipples and squeezes her breasts. All the tingling builds to an explosion and her gasps build to a tight high-pitched squeal that struggles to get out of her throat. All her muscles ripple and strain under the soft skin. She usually flushes bright red all over and the blush still shows after she recovers her senses. This time she stays a solid dull gray color all over.
She opens her eyes and finds herself looking through the fabric of the hood. She gasps in fright. Her heart is pounding, but that's from the orgasm not from fright. She has a finger way into her vagina - far past the point where the suit was stopping her. She pulls the wet finger slowly out of herself. She bends to look into the problem. She can't see anything in there. All the skin she can see around her vulva is still gray.
She's messy. Her secretions are running down her leg. She needs to wash. The trouble is that she's dressed to skulk. There will be questions. Just how is she to skulk about in the day and early evening times with all those students up and active. She decides to peel the hood off and cover everything else with her robe. That should get her to the washroom. Skulking will come later.
She takes two steps toward the wardrobe with her robe in it. She passes her dresser mirror and does a gasping double take. She sees her head and nothing else in the reflection. She stares. She slowly answers several questions for herself. Harry has a cloak of invisibility. Now Hermione has a catsuit of invisibility. Her professors couldn't focus on her because they couldn't see her. So how did Professor McGonagall see that the suit fit so well? Oh well. She can't answer all the questions at once.
She pulls the hood up, tucks hair and covers her face again. There's no reflection in the mirror now. She'll have no trouble getting to the washroom or to the skulking. None of the girls in the hall or washroom pay her any attention. They truly don't see her. She gets the washing done and feels fresh for the rest of the evening.
She skulks into the Gryffindor commons. There are students all around in chairs, at tables and in front of the fireplace. They're mostly studying or having some conversation in small quiet groups. Hermione stays at the edge of the room and tries to stay in shadows. She consciously knows those aren't necessary, but they feel like the right things to do when skulking.
She feels the slightest breezes all over. She usually feels those only when walking to or from the bath. Those breezes are always chilly in the big stony school. Now she feels quite warm no matter where she is or how drafty the room. Must be more magic with the suit.
The other point about feeling breezes in strange places is that the bath is in a more private setting. Here she's so near to naked in the presence of all her housemates, boy and girl. She notices every sensation. She's becoming sensitive and acutely aware. She also wonders that she's not mortified about feeling so undressed. She finds herself giving in to impulses again. She runs her hands all over her front and feels the exposed skin. The rubbing keeps her nipples stiff and her labia sensitive, but not too near any climax.
A frond of a fern in a pot at the edge of the room brushes lightly across her hips as she slides by it. The surprise touch not from herself sends a frisson of tingling and shivering all through her. She gasps. Fortunately the fire crackles loudly at the same time.
It sinks in more and more that nobody sees her. She imagines how they would greet her and the comments they would make if they could. Surely the smooth gray skin would draw some remarks even from her friends. She gradually gets farther into the room and more into the skulking.
She stands in front of the fireplace. The radiated heat warms her even more. She feels the heat where she likes it most - directly on her breasts and vulva. She feels it that way so rarely. We won't ask about the times she does feel it there. Two students walk across the room, past the fireplace and to some chairs. Hermione has to dash out of their way. She's invisible, but not a ghost. They would discover her if they ran into her. She decides to keep moving around the room.
She sees things she notices only occasionally. There's really a lot of handholding going on under those tables. Some of her housemates are making serious eyes at each other, and they're not all boy-girl couples. Some are bickering in a transparent way. She knows about that from her relationship with Ron. She really wouldn't mind if he saw her the way the suit makes her, at least in a private setting. She closes in on some of the tables and hears some conversations. This bothers her more than a little - eavesdropping. None of the conversations are about her, so she ignores them and passes by.
The table with Harry, Ron, Neville and Ginny is a little different. Ron has the floor and has the rapt attention of the other three.
"You mustn't tell. I'd be mortified. Weasleys are quite dangerous when we're mortified, right Ginny?" Ron warns and Ginny nods with a smirk on her face.
"Alright, no telling. We've told who we like, now speak," Harry prods.
"You're all obvious. Nothing to hide. Harry, you're alone now because Cho is in Ravenclaw, but we know where you'll be in two hours." Then to Neville and his sister he says, "You two are all over each other. There's no secret there either."
"She doesn't know about how I feel and it just won't work if she finds out too soon," he whines.
"Who already?" Hermione thinks and Ginny asks.
"Hermione," Ron admits in a quiet whisper. "I dream about her. You know, THAT sort of dream."
The three at the table with Ron twitter like the schoolchildren they are. Ginny blushes brightly. Hermione is incensed, scandalized and more than a little flattered. Harry and Neville twitter about that being no big news while Hermione tries to recover. She knows what THAT sort of dream is about.
Hermione staggers to the edge of the commons room, slumps and slides down the wall to sit on the floor. She pays little attention to what her hands are doing because her mind is on just one thing.
She thinks over and over as the tingling sensation builds, "Ron dreams of ME!"