Hermoine was just walking down one of Hogwart’s many corridors when Draco and his crowd of goons stopped to chortle and point at the sight of her. A great big bunch of gorillas, Hermoine thought them.
“Enjoy your time on the hook, pink-thong?” Draco taunted as Hermoine flushed all shades of pink.
The laughter of the Slytherin crowd rang in Hermoine’s ears while she just stood there, stupidly, blushing her face off. Something needed to be done! She couldn’t let that moron Draco pick on her without putting up a fight! That’s when it hit her. The perfect way to humiliate Draco and show that she wasn’t just some ditzy nerd!
He could call Hermoine pink-thong all he wanted, but Draco wouldn’t be the one laughing when he was sporting his own sparkly garment. It was genius!
“I bet her ass still burns!” Crabbe was chuckling whilst Hermoine slowly but surely pulled out her trusty wand from her robes. All she needed to do was a transfiguration of Draco’s boxers into a glittery, humiliating, purple, thong. For the gifted witch, that was child’s play.
The buffoons still cackling and making snide remarks, Hermoine muttered the incantation.
She instantly knew it worked, because Draco’s faced turned from one of mockery to discomfort. This was clearly the first time he’d worn a thong.
Hermoine giggled. “Something wrong, Draco? You look like you just swallowed a pigmy puff.”
Draco’s eyes widened. “Wh-What?! I’m fine, Mudblood.”
“Is that so?” Hermoine reached forward and swiftly pulled down Draco’s pants, a devilish grin on her face as she exposed the thong.
Draco’s gang instantly burst into laughter, and Draco was as red as a tomato.
“Draco Malfoy,” Hermoine teased, “Have you gotten into your mum’s underwear droor?”
The roars of hilarity got even louder. Karma really was a bitch.
“I SWEAR I WAS WEARING BOXERS A MINUTE AGO!” Draco tried to defend himself, but to no avail.
Hermoine shook her head in mock disappointment. “And to think you were teasing me about MY choice in thongs just a minute ago!”
“Yeah Draco, what gives?” Marcus Flint was choking with laughter.
Then Hermoine got an even better idea. “I say we hang him up, give him a taste of his own medicine!” And to her suprise, the Slytherins agreed.
Marcus grabbed Draco fiercely. “Yeah, let’s do!” He roared.
“G-GUYS! DON’T DO THIS!” Draco was flailing around, but to no avail. His own friends were already closing in on him, and Hermoine had front row seats.
Hermoine watched as the Slytherin Students lifted up Draco (still screaming and pleading to be let go) and hooked his thong onto a nearby coatrack. They turned him around too, so that everybody walking by could see the oh-so-mighty Draco Malfoy’s bare ass- and maybe even give it a slap, for good measure.
“MY FATHER WILL HEAR ABOUT THIS!” He shrieked in between sobs.
“I’m sure he will.” Hermoine blew him a mocking kiss, but before she could walk away, she bumped into a very menacing Crabbe and Goyle.
“We might have hung up Malfoy,” Goyle growled, “But that doesn’t mean you’re going anywhere.”
Hermoine gulped.
Crabbe rubbed his chin. “Let’s…”
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