Panties and skirt

Hermione shifted slightly on the bench, frowning. Huh, was it just her or did it feel different? Like there was more friction... Nah, she shrugged it off. Probably nothing. Legs bare beneath the table, Hermione turned to face the front of the Great Hall.

The Sorting was taking place. She watched as the Hat bellowed out the names of various Houses, joining in with the obligatory cheer for each Gryffindor.

A nervous looking boy hurried up the aisle between rows, looking for a free space at the table. He faltered for a moment by Hermione, quickly noticing that the witch's bottom half... stood out rather against the sea of black robes and skirts tightly packed either side of her. She was sitting down, but there was a definitely hint of two cheeks.

Hermione, meanwhile, felt a little self-conscious at the sudden wide eyed stare. Probably someone that knew who she was, a friend of Harry Potter probably would get a fair bit of attention these days. She offered an encouraging smile.

The boy hurried past her. A little way down the row he slipped onto the bench and whispered something to the students around him.

Hermione turned her attention back to the front of the Hall, shifting again slightly. She kept her legs a little apart, like she normally did, getting used to the uniform again. It wasn't bothering her as much as it usually did she had to admit.

A whisper passed down the opposite side of the table to her. As it reached a girl just in front of her, there was a slight clatter as the girl dropped her spoon. Murmuring apologetically, Romilda crouched down under the table. Hermione frowned; it was taking her a few seconds longer than she'd have expected to pick up a spoon.

Eventually Romilda sat back up, carefully schooling her expression. As several people looked expectantly at her, she nodded, a smirk playing at her lips.

The boy sitting beside Hermione shifted slightly; she moved to allow him, not sure what her was doing. Still, she looked away, attention on the front of the hall. She was sat on the edge of the bench, making absolutely sure she didn't get in the way of any newcomers going down the aisle.

As such, she missed the boy behind her waving and gesturing for the latest declared Gryffindor to wander down the row behind her, oblivious to the newest stranger seeing her behind.

Why were so many people whispering? And for that matter, she thought at the sound of another clatter, why did people keep dropping their cutlery? As a Ravenclaw was declared, she curiously looked sideways to see half a dozen people peering under the table. What were they doing?

Frowning, she parted her legs further (hearing a sudden snigger at that) so that she could look at whatever was on the flo-

"Ah!" Hermione squeaked, before slapping a hand over he rmouth.

No. Don't make a sound. Merlin's beard, don't make a sound. She flushed beet red, quickly pressing her legs together, eyes wide.

What had happened to her skirt?! And for that matter, what had happened to her panties? She was pretty damn sure she'd been wearing them when she'd walked in, and she'd only been sitting here. She'd have noticed if they were taken off, right?

Maybe a spell? But who would...

She glanced around, momentarily forgetting the Sorting, eyes wide and cheeks hot. So long as she didn't draw any more attention...

Fidgeting, she nervously tried to tug the back of her robes down, trying to get a little modesty from that angle. Then, adopting a more prim position, she placed both hands on her lap to ensure anyone else that looked under the table saw as little as possible.

Though it wasn't like she could hide her legs entirely, and that was still way, way too much. Her blush deepened; and this was just the Sorting, what was she meant to do after? How was she meant to stand up like this?

Hermione swallowed, doing her utmost to school her expression, to not draw any more attention than her half-naked form already had.

She might typically be top of her class, but at that moment her mind had gone completely blank. Anything that might have helped her get out of this embarrassing situation fled her mind, replaced with nothing but utter panic as her bare legs rubbed together.

That and the idle thought as she glanced over the nuts that, huh, sometimes she got peckish when she was embarrassed.