Hermione Granger and the Potion of Perilous Pleasure

A Problem needs A Solution

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Chapter 3 (Luna's Help), Chapter 4 (Luna is Weird), Chapter 5 (Girls are Driving me Mad!), Chapter 6 (A Party for a Bad Girl), Chapter 7 (Confrontation), Chapter 8 (A Shower with Ginny), Chapter 9 (Does every problem need a Solution?), and Chapter 10 (Luna is a good friend) are already available for Patrons.

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Hermione had never been this aware of her body before. Each step felt heavy, each movement accentuated by the awkward, unwelcome weight between her legs. As she walked through the corridors of Hogwarts, her heart raced, a constant drumbeat of anxiety. The bulge in her skirt was tucked awkwardly beneath her waistband, hidden—barely. She had spent what felt like an eternity in the girls' bathroom earlier, adjusting, readjusting, hoping no one would walk in as she tried to press the thing down, flattening it as much as she could, wrapping her robe tighter around her waist.

It was exhausting.

Her eyes darted to the students walking around her. Nobody seemed to be looking directly at her, but her paranoia gnawed at her constantly. What if someone did notice? What would she even say? That it was a charm gone wrong? That someone had hexed her? Would anyone even believe her?

She couldn't help but glance down as she passed by a group of giggling third-years. Their eyes weren't on her, but she still felt naked under their laughter, exposed in ways she'd never felt before. Her face burned with humiliation as she quickened her pace, turning a corner to get away.

The Great Hall was already bustling with activity, students chatting about whatever.. Hermione hesitated at the entrance, feeling her stomach twist. She hadn't eaten since breakfast, her nerves making it impossible to think about food, but she had to keep up appearances. Ron and Harry were already seated at the Gryffindor table, waving her over.

Deep breaths, she told herself, forcing her legs to move. Her heart pounded in her throat as she crossed the hall, every step making her hyperaware of the friction, of the awkward bulge tucked awkwardly between her thighs. She gripped her robe tighter, praying that no one would notice. She could not understand how the boys could walk around with that thing all the time their whole life.

"Hermione! Over here!" Ron called, his mouth full of food, oblivious to her discomfort as always. She gave him a tight-lipped smile and slid onto the bench across from them, making sure her legs were squeezed tightly together under the table. She felt a cold bead of sweat trickle down the back of her neck, and she hurriedly adjusted her skirt again, tugging it down as discreetly as she could.

"Are you alright?" Harry asked, his green eyes scanning her face with concern. "You look... I don't know, kind of pale."

"Yeah, I'm fine," she lied, reaching for a piece of bread to keep her hands busy. Her stomach churned at the thought of eating, but she had to act normal. She couldn't let them suspect anything. "Just... a bit tired. Been studying all day."

"Classic Hermione," Ron chuckled, taking another huge bite of chicken. "Always overdoing it. You really need to relax sometimes, you know?"

She forced a laugh, but it came out strained. Every noise in the hall seemed magnified, every pair of eyes felt like they were burning holes into her. She could feel the pressure between her legs, the constant reminder of the nightmare she couldn't escape. Her hand twitched under the table, wanting to reach down and adjust herself, but she clenched her fist instead, biting her lip.