Harry Potter

"Hey, are you alright?" asked a quite voice to Hermione's right, prompting her to finally focus on the people she was sitting with. Specifically, she finally noticed the slim man with tousled black hair and bright green eyes that had spoken to her. She recognized him from his own sorting and the cheering that had followed.

It was Harry Potter! She was talking to Harry Potter. Sure, before a few weeks ago, she had never even heard of him or the so-called "You-Know-Who," but she had certainly read about him since then. And now here she was, speaking to someone who was actually mentioned within so many of the books she had painstakingly memorized. The book-loving girl was practically bouncing in excitement at the prospect.

'If only that was the only reason.' she thought morosely as the seat beneath her gave her sore tush another sharp poke. She thought she saw Harry flush slightly as she wriggled in place. Unfortunately she was soon distracted by the familiar sensation of cool air on her buns again. Hermione blushed as she realized that her movement had dislodged the stupidly short skirt from its place between her ass and the seat below, exposing a glimpse of her bright cheeks to the world.

"It's just, well. " Not receiving an answer, Harry continued to hesitantly speak, seemingly not noticing her panic regarding her flashing ass. It would be alright, wouldn't it? Surely people are paying more attention to the sorting than anything else. Another poke sent her bouncing up a bit once more, further pushing her rear over the lip of the seat and into open air. "You looked a little uncomfortable."

The slight breeze was soothing at least. Biting her lip slightly, Hermione pondered whether she could get away with leaning forward on her thighs just a bit. Sure, it would turn just the glimpse of her red rear into a full moon, but if no one was paying attention... Another poke, lower on her butt, seemed to encourage her thoughts, as she slowly tilted forward.

"Never mind. I'm sorry to pry. I'm just new to all this. I'm sure you're used to your spankings by now."

Snapping her head up and plopping back to her seat, Hermione blushed as she remembered someone had in fact been paying attention to her. A rather specific someone, in fact.

"No! No, it's not that I'm used to it. I'm, umm-"

"Eh, don't bother Harry." Interrupted the tall red-head next to Harry. Ron Weasley she remembered as he continued to speak in a lazy tone while simultaneously shoving food into his mouth. "If she was moaning like that from just the sorting, she'll just be antsy for the real thing about now. Percy's always going on about how you can spot the needy ones right away."

"That is not what I was thinking about," she snapped harshly as her face heated up. "And you are not supposed to start eating until the sorting is finished, you know?"

"Pfft, if we have to wait every time a witch needs her butt thrashed, we'd starve."

Before Hermione could respond to what she could tell was his most genuine thoughts, she yelped as she felt a sharp pain on her tush. But it wasn't the seat this time. She'd been pinched!

"Come off it, little brother. Haven't you learned by now to never listen to our dear pinch-faced Percy?" questioned the pincher, a squat red-haired third-year that was unquestionably related to Ron. Seated on Hermione's other side, he leaned across her as he spoke to his brother and squeezed her tender bum once more.

"Quite right Ronald," chirped the man sitting next to her pincher, and who looked identical to said pincher. As he spoke, he leaned over behind his twin and-

"Eep!"

a second hand pinched her rear!

"A moaner is wonderful thing," the second twin continued with a firm grip on her tush. "Why do you think we were celebrating so much? Every Gryffindor's happy to have such an eager kitty joining us."

"Is that right?" questioned Harry curiously, clearly familiar with and trusting of the two.

"No, no, no!" the serious girl hurriedly rushed to interject as she scooted her rear painfully forward across her seat and out of the twins grasp. She fought down a blush as she met Harry's bewildered look, clearly trying to determine if he should be worried for her or worried about the dirty witch he had begun speaking too. "I'm Muggle-born so I'm quite new to all this. Finding out about magic is wonderful, but my butt has never been so sore. I'm most definitely not looking forward to more spankings."

""Ahhh!"" exclaim the twins in unison.

"She's sore George."

"Of course Fred. Not at all eager no."

"Nope no eager beavers here."

"No blushing sweater puppies jiggling too and throw for show."

"Certainly no quivering kitties bouncing their big butts up and down, you know."

"And definitely no naughty bunnies thumping buns against seats to warm their rear."

""Absolutely not!"" they finished as the inexperienced girl's face burst into flame at their words.

"I'm not," she protested weakly. "This seat, it' - Oh! - it's poking me."

"Well why didn't you say so?"

"Seeing as you're so sore, our loving Hogwarts has chosen to encourage you to get comfortable."

"And if we're talking about chosen, look no further than our kind hearted Harry."

"Come now, get that tired tush off the hard seat and somewhere cozy."

"Up you get cranky kitty," finished the closest twin whilst gesturing towards Harry's lap.

Hermione sat stunned at what they seemingly suggested. They couldn't possibly mean for her to spend her first meal at the school sitting on her classmate's lap, could they? Despite her incredulity at the idea, her body seemed to light up at the idea. She was suddenly painfully aware of herself. How sweat that had run down her butt during the sorting had cooled on her skin, how her bouncing in place had caused her nipples to become frustratingly hard, how her tongue was repeatedly trying to wet her dry lips, even how her nickers had inched up her rear tightened against her lower lips.

"Sure, I don't mind if it helps.

In response to her seeming deliberation, Harry twisted slightly and opened his legs to give her better access to her proffered seat. Right, if she said yes now, her big, bubble-butt, for the first time of her life, would be pressed flush against a man's groin. Barely a few strips of fabric between her ass and...

Shaking her head, Hermione tried to return her attention to the sorting. Surely, the other witches were going through a similar trial and had found some logical way of dealing with it. Ten witches had come and gone by now, none Gryffindor, but Professor McGonagall had just called up a haughty looking girl by the name of Pansy Parkinson. Turning in her seat, Hermione took note of the Slytherin table's slight, preemptive cheering and the smirk on Pansy's face as she walked toward the hat. The bookworm would have bet just about anything that this witch was one of those who had delightedly laughed at Hermione's own sorting. Well now, Hermione could see how she dealt with-

"SLYTHERIN!"

No sooner had a hair brush slightly grazed the witches bum had it halted and the sorting hat declared her house.

'That is so no fair!' thought Hermione furiously as her seat once again poked her tush, harder than ever before. That snide hat had given her ten whole sacks before deciding. Pansy wasn't even blushing as she flounced proudly toward her new table. Flushing at the injustice of it all, she once again turned to look towards Harry's proffered lap. Finally, she accepted that she needed to make a decision. Either she would spend her dinner bouncing from one poke to the next or she would spend it nestling her tushy against the Boy Who Lived.