Sapphic September 2019 - Harry Potter Femslash Oneshot Collection

Day 3 - Soft and Warm - Hermione/Pansy/Tracey

Prompt: Socks
Pairing: Hermione x Pansy x Tracey
Rating: Teen
Word Count: 1,246
Summary: Hermione's gift to Pansy for Christmas is more a gift to herself and Tracey, but that doesn't mean she doesn't want Pansy to like it.

Tags: EWE, Post-Hogwarts, Established Relationship, Polyamory, Polyfidelity, Christmas, Socks, Teasing, Bickering

Soft and Warm

"You know, I can't decide if she's mocking me or if she really does like them," Hermione mused, watching as Pansy scrunched up her toes and splayed them out again. The motion was obvious even through the thick socks. "She hasn't taken her eyes of them for ages."

Tracey finished topping up Hermione's wine glass and then, after putting the bottle down, sank into the sofa with a sigh. She'd just finished dealing with the dishes, grumbling the whole time even though it was her turn. Hermione had enjoyed hearing it, since she was mocked relentlessly about her own reluctance to do the dishes.

She'd keep it to herself, but she was sure Pansy had rigged the fork they'd spun to pick who had to clean up. As long as she hadn't had to deal with it, she wasn't going to complain.

"Who cares? They're not really for her, they're for us," Tracey said, before taking a sip from her own glass and sighing again. "Protection from her permanently freezing feet in winter. Thanks, love. The book I got you pales in comparison to this gift."

In the armchair by the fire, Pansy continued to watch her own toes flex, seemingly oblivious to their conversation.

Hermione scrunched up her face and put her glass down on the side table.

That was true, the bed socks were more a gift for herself and Tracey, but she had at least tried to make a few pairs that Pansy would like. Not that she'd really had any clue what that might be, since she never saw Pansy in socks at all.

When questioned about why she never wore socks if her feet were always cold, Pansy had only declared that socks would be a travesty, as they'd hide her toenails, which she regularly got done with beautiful designs.

"She's never captivated by something so mundane," Hermione muttered, scooting deeper into the sofa cushions. "She's mocking me. I should tear them off her feet and burn them."

Tracey snorted and uttered the wandless spell to switch the wireless station. It was late, but each station she tried was still playing Christmas songs.

"Ugh, not everyone loves all this holiday cheer," Tracey huffed, swishing her free hand.

The wireless abruptly stopped. A few moments later, Pansy looked over at them.

"What's wrong?" she asked, shifting in her armchair and looking around.

"Awful Christmas songs, I'm sick of them," Tracey declared. "Play us something, will you?"

Pansy perked up and Hermione bit back a groan. When she went to fetch her violin, Hermione shot Tracey a dark look.

"Oh hush," Tracey said, flapping a hand in her direction and nudging the side of her leg with one foot. "Not every song she plays is sad."

"No, some are just sinister," Hermione huffed, reaching for her wine. "A fine way to tie off Christmas, music that makes you want to cry or check all the locks in a fit of paranoia."

Tracey turned fully sideways, leaning her back against the arm of the sofa and worming her toes under Hermione's thigh.

"Don't be a snob," she laughed. "She put up with your horrid knitting, you can put up with her compositions."

"Hey, I'm a lot better now!" Hermione said, jabbing a finger at her. "Neville adored the hat and scarf I made him!"

She really had come a long way since her terrible attempts at knitting things for the House Elves of Hogwarts. She'd even managed it without Molly's help, though she had certainly offered enough times.

"Did they have to be so fluffy though?" Tracey asked with a snort. "She's going to slip and fall over on the hardwood floor."

Hermione finished her wine and put the glass down. "You'll thank me for that later. I wove permanent warming charms into them as I was knitting them. I bet you'll be rubbing your feel all over them tonight. Fluffy and warm like that horrid hot water bottle cover you won't throw out."

"Leave off, that was a gift from my niece!" Tracey hissed, pulling one foot out from under Hermione's leg to jab at her thigh. "She's only eight, she's doing her best!"

"And yet you insulted my socks," Hermione said with a scowl.

"Leave off the socks," Pansy said, startling them both as she appeared behind the sofa. "They're wonderful. You're just jealous you didn't get a pair, Tracey."

While Tracey spluttered something incoherent, Hermione squinted at Pansy's back when she moved closer to the fireplace. If she was anyone else, then everything she was saying and doing would indicate that she liked the socks. But she wasn't anyone else, she was Pansy.

"You don't have to pretend you know," Hermione said, wanting to head this off before it turned into something drawn out, like when Pansy had mocked her for over a month the one time she'd tried her hand at baking. "I'm a big girl, I can take it."

Pansy turned and frowned at her. "I'm not pretending."

Beside Hermione, Tracey snorted and reached for the bottle of wine. "Should have left it alone," she said.

Hermione gestured at Pansy's feet, still ensconced in the fluffy yellow socks. "You keep staring at them and wriggling your toes. You don't have to keep wearing them if you don't like them."

With an even deeper frown, Pansy set her violin and bow down on her armchair and put her hands on her hips.

"Can't I enjoy something without you two suspecting I'm pretending?" she asked. "I'm not a snob about everything you know."

Tracey snorted into her wine glass and then choked for a few seconds. Pansy glanced at her, then back to Hermione. She looked more hurt than anything.

"No one's ever hand-made me something before," she said, still frowning. "Of course I can't stop looking at them and wriggling my toes. They're so soft and warm I never want to take them off. If I'd known your woollen monstrosities were this comfortable, I'd have bullied you into making me some years ago."

Despite her expressions appearing totally genuine, Hermione still wasn't sure. "Really?"

"Oh, for Merlin's sake," Tracey muttered, prodding at Hermione's thigh again with her toes. "Take the compliment before you start a fight."

Hermione shot her a glare. "You were just insulting my knitting yourself!"

"Why settle for home-made when you can afford something far nicer?" Tracey scoffed, raising her eyebrow and her foot, waving her own fashionable sock in Hermione's face.

Before Hermione could think of a response to that, Pansy leaned over and yanked Tracey's sock off her foot.

"Oi!" Tracey hissed, almost spilling her wine.

Pansy snatched up the other pair Hermione had made her and then swiftly slid one onto Tracey's foot.

Tracey froze, mouth still open to snap something, eyes wide. Right near Hermione's face, the sock wriggled as she curled her toes.

"So warm," Tracey whispered. "So soft. How is it so soft? Wool is always so scratchy when it's not cashmere!"

With an eye-roll in Tracey's direction, Pansy leaned down and tilted Hermione's chin up with two fingers. She kissed her lips and then the tip of her nose before Hermione could protest that strange habit of hers.

"The socks are lovely, really," she said, and this time Hermione believed her. "I expect more for my birthday."

"Absolutely not!" Tracey cut in, sticking her foot between their faces. "I get the next pair, or I'm stealing one of yours!"

End.