TK Commish: Hermione and Ginny

TK Commish: Hermione and Ginny - The Dangers of House Management

(This story takes place in Half-Blood Prince where Harry, Hermione, Ginny, Ron and various members of the Order of the Phoenix are setting up 12 Grimwauld place as the new Order headquarters.)

O-O-O

"When they told me we would be fighting against You-Know-Who, I really thought it would be more interesting than this,” Ginny said, sighing, as she, Ron, Hermione, and Harry continued their campaign to make 12 Grimwauld Place fit for human habitation.  

"Yeah, I figured it would be about saving the world, damsels in distress, eternal fame and glory, that sort of thing,” Ron grumbled as the four of them set about cleaning one of the bedrooms on the second floor of 12 Grimwauld Place. No one but Kreacher had lived here for a while, and they had been hard at work in the past week trying to restore the house to make it the new headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix. Sirius had pretty much been the only one who was enthusiastic about it, and Harry had a sneaking suspicion it was more because he liked the idea of destroying the remnants of the family that had disowned him and he had always despised for their mindsets.

“Oh, Ronald. There’s more a lot more to it than just that. What we’re doing here makes a big difference,” Hermione said, as she used her wand to clear mould from the ceiling.

“It doesn’t feel like it,” Ron replied, grunting as he swept underneath the bed with his wand, clearing out crumbs and dust that looked like it had been there for a least a decade.

“Well, look at it this way, Ron,” Harry said, sensing the opportunity for a pun. “You’re fighting the Dirt Lord.” The lameness of the pun made everyone giggle, which seem to make the menial physical labour more enjoyable in a way. Harry didn’t mind what they were doing. He was just enjoying getting to spend time with his friends. The group of them then proceeded to laugh even louder as they exchanged more and more ridiculous puns on the matter.

"You-know-go?" Ron offered, which earned him a sympathetic giggle from Hermione and an eye-roll from Ginny.

“He-who-must-not-be-cleaned!’ Ginny said, which made Harry chuckle.

"Voldemold!” Harry grinned, just as there was a knock on the door and the Weasley twins, Fred and George, walked in with a smile, obviously having heard some of the conversation in the hall way.

“Working hard, I see?” Fred smiled knowingly.

“Or hardly working, either one,” George added, with a mischievous smile. “But hey, guys. Mind if we borrow the boys for something? We need some help downstairs.”

“Sure, are you guys okay here?” Harry asked, wiping his brow. The room looked significantly cleaner than it had been before they came in, and although they had struggled with the large rattling closet whose door stubbornly refused to open.

“I think we should be. There’s probably just a boggart are in there,” Hermione nodded.

“You guys head on, we’ll catch up with you later,” Ginny smiled.

“Don’t forget the spell is Riddikulus!” Harry called, smiling back as he and Ron went out, closing the door behind them.

O-O-O

“Phew, it looks like we really did a good job on this room,” Hermione as she looked around the bedroom. The bed was clean, with fresh bedsheets, and the wallpaper was no longer unravelling. The faint musky smell seemed significantly less stronger too.

“Definitely. So what do you think is in the closet?” Ginny asked, as she nudged the rattling closet with her foot.

“A boggart? Or it might just be full of jinxed clothing like that cardigan that tried to strangle Ron the other day.”

“By the way, Hermione, you and Ron?”

“What about me and Ron?” Hermione asked, turning away to gaze intently at the closet. “Hmmm, maybe we should wait for Lupin before tackling this,” she said, stroking her chin and acting like she was deep in thought.

“You two always act funny around each other, do you have a thing for him?” Ginny probed, a cheeky smile on her face.

“Then again, Professor Lupin taught me the Riddikulus charm himself. I think we should be able to handle it ourselves,” Hermione mused, thinking aloud, clearly ignoring Ginny’s comments.

“Hey, you can tell me!” Ginny giggled, as she poked Hermione in the side, making the older girl squeak. “Just say the word, and I’ll be sure to leave you two alone next time!”

Hermione blushed, turning away, determinedly ignoring Ginny’s comments. “The alohomora charm should work…” she said, as she began waving her wand at the closet.

“You do fancy him! Why else would be acting like this?” Ginny chuckled as she reached out to poke Hermione in the ribs again, when suddenly the doors of the closet flung open.

One minute Hermione had been fiddling with the alohomora charm, the next moment a multitude of scarves and coats burst out, latching around the girls like chains and trying to pull them into the closet, where doubtless some horrible fate awaited them.

Hermione, who had been closer to the closet at the suddenly flung open, stood no chance as what looked like a maroon scarf sprang out of the closet like a coiled snake and knocked the wand out of her hand. It then snagged her ankles, and before long, Hermione had lost her footing and was being dragged feet-first, on her stomach into the jaws of the closet.

Ginny, who had been further away, had the time to fire a Riddikulus, but to her dismay the spell had no effect as her wand was always whacked out of her hand. Her wand landed in the corner of the room, and Ginny leapt for it, diving for her only means of defence. Alas, the tentacle-like scarves of the jinxed closet were lightning-quick, and they latched onto Ginny’s ankle and pulled as she jumped, so she landed painfully on her chest, her fingers merely inches away from her wand. Ginny was reminded of a kraken devouring its prey, as she began to get slowly dragged towards the closet. Ginny wasn’t one to give up so quickly, however, as she clung fiercely to the bedstead inside the room, leading to a stalemate as Ginny couldn’t go anywhere but neither could she be dislodged. At least Ginny had thought it was a stalemate, as she felt the wispy fabric display some astonishing dexterity and weave into her underarms, the fluffy material wiggling and spinning about to try to break her concentration. Keeping your arms still in that position was much easier said than done, and Ginny began giggling as the scarf wiggled around the hollows of her underarms. Sensing that her resistance was rapidly wilting, all it took was one scarf sneaking under her un-tucked shirt to tease her tummy and it was over. The giggling girl lost her grip, her red-hair flying and her feet were pulled into the closet alongside Hermione’s.

The garments of clothing binding her ankles loosened temporarily as Hermione felt her shoes and socks being slipped off, which was not good for her at all. Surely this accursed closet wasn’t planning on tickling her? Maybe it really was some kind of boggart, because Hermione thought that tickling might really be her worst nightmare.
Ginny had a similar suspicion about what was to come when she felt her shoes and socks being slipped off, but she wasn’t panicking the same way Hermione was. Growing up with so many brothers, she had to admit she was no stranger to being pinned and tickled, though it had happened significantly less once she had achieved mastery of the Bat-bogey hex to get revenge. Her feet had always been unbearable ticklish when she was younger, and her brothers, especially Fred and George had been prone to sitting on her and tickling her silly whenever they wanted her to do a chore for them or sometimes just when they wanted to tease her about something. Ginny flushed a bit as she remembered one of the things she had let slip during one of these tickle interrogations was how she had a crush on Harry Potter. She really hadn’t wanted to confess to something so embarrassing, but her brothers had found a horrendously ticklish spot underneath the pinkie toes of both feet, and they wouldn’t stop tickling her there till she talked.

With this memory fresh in her mind, Ginny shuddered involuntarily as she felt her bare soles being exposed to the cool air. She wiggled her toes nervously, she had done her toenails an eye-catching Gryffindor-red recently, as she had went with her friend Luna Lovegood to a spa in Diagon Alley the other week. She hoped that her feet wouldn’t be too ticklish, but she had a feeling that this would be a pious hope.

For a second, both girls stood there in this strange position, sitting on their stomachs with their legs trapped in a jinxed closet. There was something comical about being in this position, as the girls looked at each other in puzzlement, but this puzzlement soon turned into giggling laughter as both girls felt slithering sensations across their soles.

“Eeeep!” Hermione squealed, as she felt a foreign sensation brush against her bare feet.

“Hermione!” Ginny said, suppressing a giggle, as she could feel something soft and fluffy sliding across her feet. She reached out, and grasped her friend’s hand. “Wahahahat’s going on? Are you ohohohokay?”

“Ohnonoonono, fehehehathers!” Hermione said, giggling and clutching her face in her hands. Ginny could feel it too as multiple feathers caressed her bare soles, she was trying not to laugh but it was a task that was growing more difficult by the moment. Whoever had jinxed that closet clearly would have agreed with her twin brothers, as a closet that tickled girls who tried to store things inside seemed to be exactly the same kind of prank they would do. Ginny’s feet, although ticklish, had never really been especially feather-sensitive, often requiring a firmer touch to get her going, so she giggled and tittered lightly as the feathers stroked up and down the soles of her pale feet, like a feathery massage. There so many feathers, Ginny counted around ten feathers sliding up and down her soles, so she could empathize why someone as obviously sensitive as Hermione on her feet would be having such trouble.

The older girl was deviating between clutching her face in her hands, and pounding them on the carpet as the feathers danced on her soles. Hermione seemed to be squirming a lot as well, but Ginny could feel that their feet were firmly trapped in place. She had discovered that shortly after trying to clamp her toes shut, that almost like the fibres from the ends of the scarves gained a life of their own as they snapped up and wrapped around each of her toes, constricting them until they were almost uncomfortably tight, and, pulling them back so her sole was taut and immobile. Ginny’s toes could curl a little bit, and shake from side-to-side, but not much and it definitely didn’t seem to deter the feathers.

Things were worse for Hermione, who being an only child had not been tickled nearly as often growing up. Hermione had also never been tickled on her feet by a feather before, and she was quickly learning that she absolutely couldn’t take the lightness of the feather on her soft feet.

The feathers were diabolical as they swept up and down her feet, like her feet were some old statue the feathers were valiantly dusting, making sure they did not miss any undusted spots and kept everything nice and clean. The feathers were taking care not to merely dust her soles too, making sure to brush the very ticklish areas under the toes and stroke in-between every toe, like a supremely vigilant janitor.

To make matters worse, with her toes bound securely with the string, Hermione’s bubble-like toes could not even scrunch to protect the soft flesh and webbing between them either, and the feathers were keen to take advantage of that fact, as for a few minutes she had to contend with four feathers twirling between the gaps between her toes, in addition to a lone feather dancing across her soles on each foot to keep her guessing, for good measure. Hermione was a steady stream of giggles from this treatment, and she had to admit she was a bit envious of how well Ginny was taking it.

Hermione had to confess a bit of cathartic joy when Ginny suddenly arched her break and squealed loudly, but she was still concerned enough for her well-being to stutter out a question.

“Are youhohohoh okay, Ginnihihihihi?” Ginny had her hand over her mouth as laughter leaked through it.

“Feehehehehels lihihike. Feels lihihihike gahahaha,” Ginny tried, before blurting it out the third time. “Feels like forks! Bahahaha, gohohohsh, it tihihickles so much!”

Hermione felt sorry for Ginny, as hysterical as she was from her feet being feathered like this, she wouldn’t want her good friend to suffer the same fate as her. Sympathy then became more difficult as suddenly all the feathers moved to her toes and were gently swishing them back and forth, taking clear advantage of the total lack of resistance on the part of Hermione’s poor bubble-like toes. Due to the restraining threads pulling her toes back, there was nothing stopping the running of the edges of multiple feathers along the bases of all five at her toes at once. This method was often followed at the same time by the weaving in and out between random toes with the other feathers too, often with the same foot. It was so frustrating that Hermione desperately wanted to curl her toes, but found herself unable to, squealing loudly in despair.

Fittingly enough, just as Hermione was feeling sorry for Ginny for having her feet scrapped with forks, Ginny was feeling sorry for Hermione for having her feet feathered. The forks tickling Ginny were much worse than the feathers, but Ginny still thought her friend was having the worse time of it, with her feather-sensitive feet. That’s not to say Ginny thought she wasn’t being tickled silly, of course, just that maybe Hermione still had it worse. The cold metal prongs of the forks were like electric shocks, jolting squeaks and squeals from her mouth and making the redhead buck up and down.

The metal prongs of the fork were devilishly precise, and Ginny found herself giggling hysterically from a series of precise attacks. The forks were unpredictable, darting from place to place. There were only two, but they made up for their lack of numbers with erratic attacks. They would spend minutes tormenting the pads of the toes on her right foot, two at a time, before suddenly jumping down to rake up and down the arches of both feet. Ginny felt like her feet were a buffet of ticklish spots, and a cuisine connoisseur was having his way with every spot on her feet, sampling the base of her arch with a fork, then having a bit of the ball of her feet, before having some light dessert by teasing the sides of both feet at the same time.

“Why ishihihihin’t anyone hehehelping uhuhuhus?” Ginny heard Hermione ask, her friend stuttering as feet continued to be teased. Hermione had made a good point, why wasn’t anyone coming to help them? Surely they heard their laughter?

“I dohohohon’t know,” Ginny cackled, the only answer she could think to give. Maybe the jinxed closet somehow linked to the front door and cast a spell like Muffliato? A theory like that was far too strenuous to explain when you were gasping for breath, however, so Ginny just leaned back and laughed. Ron and Harry knew they were here, so it wouldn’t be long before they stopped into to check on them, right?

O-O-O

“How’s the prototype coming along, chaps?” George said cheerily, dipping his head into the room. Harry and Ron looked up, sticking out from the wall were a pair of wiggling bare feet belonging to the giggling girls from next door.

“Works like a charm,” Harry grinned, as he discarded the pair of forks he had been wielding to scrabble his fingernails up and down the pair of scrunching feet in front of him, the red-painted toenails scrunching and twitching as the nails brushed against them. 

These gloves worked wonders too,” Harry said, as he lifted up a pair of gloves which had stiff feathers at the ends of each of their fingers, which had been the cause of Hermione and Ginny’s feathering distress.

“Ahhh, Ginny was always mighty ticklish on those feet of her,” Fred said, as he leaned in and recognized the pale flapping feet as the pair belonging to his sister.  The twin grinned and scooted over next to Harry, joining in on tickling his hapless sister’s sensitive bare feet. “I don’t remember her being this ticklish, do you, George?” He said, beckoning to his partner-in-crime.

“We never got to tickle her that much ever since she learned the Bat-Boogey Hex,” George lamented, as he accepted his twin’s invitation and added his fingers to the fray too. There was an audible increase in hysterical giggles from the other end of the wall as Ginny momentarily had six hands and thirty fingers fighting over ticklish flesh on her bare soles. The twins stayed there for a few moments, the three of them working in unison to make sure that no ticklish stone went untouched, as their roving fingers rummaged everywhere from obviously-ticklish spots like arches and the base of her pedicured toes, to less-frequented locations such as the sides of her feet or the tops along the insteps.

“But if I recall, she used to be unbearable ticklish right here…” Fred said, as he fingers slowly made his way to a particular spot underneath the pinky toes and was using all five fingers to focus on that soft spot, which based on the way Ginny’s pale feet doubled in motion to try to avoid being touched there and the frequency in which high-pitched squeaks were audible through the wall, it was undoubtedly a ticklish spot which had endured the test of time.

“Say, is Hermione ticklish?” Fred said rhetorically, as he grinned at the slender shapelier feet that Ron was tickling.

“Yeah, don’t hog her, let us have a go too,” George said, as he went over to nudge his younger brother.

Ron looked like he wanted to say something, before changing his minds and letting his brothers scoot over alongside him.

“Hey, but be nice!” he said, trying to warn them. “She’s really ticklish and let’s please try not to traumatize her for life.”

“Oh, Ron, the white knight…” Fred chuckled, as he pulled back Hermione’s toes on one foot, stretching the sole taut, and begun to dig his fingers wildly into the arch with the other.

“Good sir, he’s defending his lady love’s honour!” George said dramatically, before laughing as he mimicked his twin’s technique on Hermione’s other squirming foot. High-pitched squeals were audible from the room next door, and Harry was thankful the twins had incorporated a sound-blocking charm into their designs, so no one outside would be able to hear the laughter which at this might must have been at quite a high volume.

“Oh Ron, you know we’re just teasing,” Fred said, as he gave Hermione’s high arch one last parting tickle before standing up. The squeal was audible from the other room.

“You know we love you really,” George smiled, as he gave Hermione’s bubble-like toes one last tweak as he stood up too, hearing another squeal from next door for his efforts.

“Say, you think we can get one of these in the Gryffindor common room? Or ideally the girl’s dormitory…” Ron said, excitedly. Harry had to admit this was a rather enticing possibility, the thought of tickling the exotic Indian feet of Parvati Patil or hearing the laughter of loud-mouth Lavender Brown. Even just tickling Hermione and Ginny every other day would be fun too. Harry was sure that the boys in the dormitories would have a real ball with this too.  

“Where do you think we first got the idea for this?” Fred laughed. “Just so you know, Alicia Bell and Angelina Johnson, from the Quidditch team? Very ticklish feet. I think all the flying about makes them more ticklish.”

“Definitely all the flying,” George nodded in agreement.

“But just for you, we’ll sell you our brand-new Tickle Closets at a bargain price. Ten galleons.”

“I’m your brother!” Ron exclaimed.

“New products are more expensive, that’s how businesses work,” Fred said, crossing his arms.

“Can I buy five?” Harry offered, making everyone there burst into laughter, including the girls next door we were still laughing because throughout this conversation the boys’ hands had never ceased.

“Maybe we should put that on the box. Sponsored by the Chosen One and the boy-who-lived, Harry Potter…” The twins said, and they all laughed again. The twins gave a cheery wave as they exited the room leaving the boys to their ticklish machinations again.

“Hey, Ron?” Harry asked, as he stroked a pair of forks up Ginny’s feet, making the bound feet squirm helplessly.

“Yeah, Harry?” Ron replied, as he continued brushing Hermione’s feet with the transfigured feather-gloves.

“I’ve got an idea for a tickle-tool your brothers forgot to include…” Harry smiled, licking his lips as he put down the forks for a minute.

“Oh, what would that be? Let’s give it a shot,” Ron nodded, stripping off his feather-gloves.

O-O-O

Just when Ginny thought the tickling couldn’t get any more intense, she felt something completely different as at the base of the toes of her right foot, she felt something wet slide across it. This new feeling was repeated along her other foot, lapping up her arch and Ginny’s first response was to gasp at the strange sensations. What’s going on now? Are my feet being licked? She thought, as she shuddered and gasped as the wet new sensations. It was a completely different feeling she felt as the tongue or whatever it was slide across her flesh. Unlike the cold feathers and the methodical fingers, the tongue was warm and enthusiastic, like a passionate lover. Wait, now that was a curious term of phrasing, Ginny thought, as she gasped again as the rough lick of tongue against her soles made her laugh, but it also sent a different sort of sensation coursing through her body. The tongue lapped under and in-between her toes, making her laugh rise higher and higher.

Ginny was starting to work out why this tickling was affecting her in such way. Her brothers had tickled her many times, sometimes using whatever tickle-tool had been within arm’s-reach. Ginny was ashamed to admit it, but she was awfully well-versed with how effective quills, combs and hairbrushes were on her pale, pink feet. She had never felt… this. She wasn’t sure what or who was doing things to her poor sensitive feet, and although it tickled horribly when her toes were suckled, the tongue sliding in between each toe, enveloping them with warmth and salvia, the way it made her feel was more than simple ticklishness. Ginny found herself gasping, oohing and aahing with every kiss and lick that was being bestowed upon her grateful feet. This felt like a prize that she had earned by enduring the earlier tickling, and it was making up for everything.

Ginny found herself lowering her head, starting to relax as if this was simply a playful massage. She let out a sigh of contentment as she felt the tongue work its way around the silky arch of the feet again. Ginny could feel her pedicured toes, sensitive as ever, flexing and curling in sensual pleasure as the tongue weaved under and around them. Ginny didn’t know why, or how, and she wasn’t sure she cared anymore, but the tongue was lapping at each digit with the utmost care, like an intimate lover, and she wasn’t sure she ever wanted it to end as tender kisses were placed along the arch and ball of the sensitive foot.

“Ooohh... not the toes...”Ginny gasped.

Hermione heard Ginny oohing and aahing, and her first thought was that she was in pain. “Ginny!" She cried. "Are you alright?" Then she felt it, a light touch down her sole that made her arch her back in the new alien sensations. Something wet and moist had just slicked up her sole, it was warm like the breath of a wild animal, but the way it kissed and caressed her sole with its tongue was tame and tender. The thing, whatever it was inside that closet, clearly some kind of forbidden dark magic, Hermione thought, arching her back and gasping as she felt the long tongue lap at her toes before they were engulfed in a world of sensations. After all that brutal feathering, these gentle licks and kisses felt like a world of pleasure. Hermione found herself closing her eyes as she let the blissful feelings wash over here. She still didn’t know what or who was in that closet, but her niggling doubts were being pushed out of her mind by every lap of the tongue and suckle. Hermione’s slender feet were still very ticklish, so Hermione still found herself giggling from the rough sensations, especially when the tongue pushed through the gaps in-between her toes, or when she felt sharp little teeth playfully nip at the ball of her feet, or her heels. Hermione’s laughter trickled slowly out of her now, like an ornate fountain, instead of busting out uncontrollably, like a broken dam. It wasn’t long before Hermione found herself cooing and moaning whilst still giggling, though she was too self-conscious with Ginny beside her to be too open about what was happening. Ginny seemed to be in a world of her own too, though, as she sighed and sprawled out across the carpeted floor.

“Ginny?”

“Mhhm?”

“It fehehehels good all of sudden,” Hermione said, trying to suppress a gasp as she both her big toes being suckled at the same time.

“I know,” Ginny said, sleepily as she closed her eyes. Hermione found herself dozing off too, mhmm, why couldn’t it just have been like this from the start? Now this was amazing…

O-O-O

The boys lifted their heads up, slumping against the wall at the other end of the room as they watched the moist soles in front of them wiggle. Harry leaned forward to press a switch to release their captive’s feet.

“That was…” Harry started, unsure of what to say.

“Bloody something, eh?” Ron finished, and the two best friends looked each other in the eye and both started laughing.

“Let’s agree to do this again sometime,” Harry said with a smile.

O-O-O

"Let's agree to never talk of this again," Hermione said, as she pulled her feet out of the closet, trying to compose herself and began tidying her hair which looked like she had just gone on a good roller coaster. She rubbed her feet, which were damp with what she guessed must be salvia. What, or who, had just done that?

"Agreed," Ginny panted, as she lay on her back.

"Now what was that?" This was one of the rare times Hermione had to admit she was stumped. She could only offer her best guess.

"Somekind of jinxed closet? Had to be old magic, I've never read about anything that does... that." Ginny paused for a moment, as if embarrassed. Hermione then became acutely aware of how flushed the younger girls cheeks were.

"Do you think we could leave this room till tomorrow?" Hermione gave Ginny a knowing smile. The older girl wouldn't admit it, but she was every bit as... curious, that if they came back tomorrow, would history repeat itself.

"Good idea, Ginny. Maybe that jinx will be gone by then," Hermione said, but she had a sneaking suspicion that both of them would be more than content if they had to spend a week or three sorting out that closet. Hermione personally would not have minded going through that kind of... stimulation, on a regular basis. Ginny stood up, wiping beads of sweat from her brow.

"If we're lucky, eh?" Ginny said, her face as red as her hair. They both glanced into the closet and saw nothing but a wooden walls and clothing.

“Let’s leave the boys out of it, we can do it ourselves,” Hermione nodded, a wide smile on her face.

“Definitely,” Ginny smiled, dreamily.

O-O-O