Bed Sheets (Harry Potter LS)

I found this somewhere....

Chapter 1


“Er, what do we do now?”

“Probably figure out an escape from our predicament and pray to whoever’s listening that no one comes in anytime soon…ESPECIALLY those accursed twins.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

“More like our only option, my friend.”

I grunted in pain as Harry struggled against my body. This is what happens when you try to use magic to speed up a simple chore like tidying your room, I thought to myself. One minute, the sheets were obediently floating off the beds, ready to fold themselves. Then all of a sudden, they rebel and choose instead to form a body-binding cocoon around you and your understandably unwilling friend. Now, instead of finishing early and getting back to enjoying the day, you were now wasting precious do-nothing time in a restraining bed sheet on the floor of the Weasleys’ guest bedroom, bound chest-to-chest to Harry Potter, the famous Boy Who Lived, budding Quidditch athlete, best mate, secret object of my affections, you get the idea.

The two of us spent the next few minutes fighting against our bonds until we were left panting and sweating. Obviously, these were tough sheets, and sheer willpowers would not be enough to break them at the moment.

“You still got your wand on you?” Harry asked through soft pants.

“I would, if I didn’t drop it when this stupid sheet attacked us,” I muttered sourly. I strained my neck against my restraints and looked up to see my wand lying on the floor just a few feet above my head, just out of my reach.

“I don’t think I can reach it,” I grunted, lowering my gaze to meet eyes with Harry. “You’ve got longer arms than me. Try to wriggle your arm free and reach for it.”

Harry nodded and clenched his fingers experimentally to see which arm had the best chance at freedom. Since he was lying on his right side, his right arm had no chance. As he tried to move his left arm, I could feel it slide up your right hip. I bit my lip in an attempt to ignore this rather disconcerting discovery. After all, it’s not like he was intentionally feeling me up.

This poor excuse suddenly Apparated from my mind when I felt his hand travel higher. “Whoa, whoa, whoa!”

“What?” he asked immediately, his hand frozen somewhere around my waist.

My cheeks began to burn, and not from the heat that comes with being wrapped in layers of sheets. “You’re sliding up my shirt, Harry!”

He stiffened in embarrassed realization. “Oh gosh, I’m sorry,” he quickly muttered. “I didn’t mean to…you know.”

“I know that,” I snapped unintentionally. “Just…just get on with it. The sooner we get out, the sooner we can pretend this never happened.”

“Agreed,” he murmured before tentatively continuing. I chose to remain completely silent and ignore the feeling of his hand brushing against my bare skin, only breaking my stoic silence with a squeak of protest when he came dangerously close to reaching my bra strap.

Finally, after five agonizingly long minutes, he managed to pull his arm free. We both shared a short cry of success before he tried to reach for the wand. Unfortunately, I had misjudged the distance to the wand, as Harry was only able to just brush the end of the handle with his middle finger. “Reach for it, Harry!” I hissed urgently. “Freaking stretch for it!”

“Oh, like I’m not doing that now,” he retorted sardonically through gritted teeth. He attempted to pull it closer. But instead, our faces fell when he only managed to nudge it farther away, now completely out of reach. “Great,” I moaned, letting my head land on the wooden floor. “Just freaking perfect.”

Harry could share in my disappointment. We both lay there for a silent moment or two before I finally lifted your head again. “Where’s your wand?”

“In my back pocket,” he replied.

“Which one?”

“The right one. But there’s no way I can reach it.”

I tested my right hand and found that it was bound right between Harry’s hip and the floor. “Get on top of me,” I told him.


“Oh, get your mind outta the gutter, Potter!”

“What?! I wasn’t thinking that!”

“Yeah, sure.”

“I wasn’t!”
“Just shut up and roll over. I think I can just reach your wand and slide it out. But you need to take your weight off my hand. So just roll on top of me.”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course I’m sure. And don’t even think about trying anything.”

“Like I ever would!”

“Could’ve fooled me with that little move earlier.”

He chose not to answer that one. Instead, he let out a groan before pushing his body to roll. I assisted him by adding my own weight to it. After some initial rolls to gain momentum, Harry managed to roll himself on top of me. I exhaled sharply as some wind was knocked out of me from both the effort it took to roll over and Harry’s added weight on your chest. “Gosh, lose some weight,” I wheezed.

He rolled his eyes. “Just get my wand now,” he hissed, his pale cheeks burning furiously.

I complied and began to inch my hand around his hip and toward his back pocket. Neither of us really wanted to point out that I was practically groping his rear end. After all, he did technically feel me up earlier. An arse grab would make the two of us even.

I managed to reach the wand. However, when I tried to slip it out, Harry gave a grunt of pain. Apparently, the sheet was bound so tightly that the wand was poking him on the back. I was stabbing him in the back every time to tried to slide the wand out.

“Well, isn’t this just freaking perfect,” I grumbled.

“Well, now what do we do?” Harry asked in exasperation.

“You tell me, dude,” I sighed. “This spell should be made illegal. It causes nothing but trouble and forced s//ual molestaton.”

“Wait, what?!”

“Well, think about it. We are bound WAY too close for comfort. Our first escape plan involved you feeling me up, and our second one involved me grabbing a handful of your arse. I would also like to point out that my hand is still attached to your butt right now, and as much as I enjoy having your firm buttock in my hand, I’d rather keep to personal boundaries.”

Harry just stared in disbelief at my blunt words. His face was practically burning crimson, but it’s not as if I couldn’t say the same for myself. I assumed that in my flustered state, my mouth just ran off on its own to vent the steam building up in my brain. Since I was on such a shameful roll, I couldn’t help but add, without thought, “With all this closeness we’ve suddenly achieved in so little time, we should just make it official and start making out now.”

I realized a second too late what had just come from my mouth. If my hands were free, I would’ve slapped them over my face right then and there. Instead, I could only lie there in shame under a bewildered emerald gaze. “I cannot believe I just said that,” I murmured pathetically.

“No turning back on that statement,” he remarked quietly.

“Huh? What are you talking abou…?”

I trailed off as I slowly realized the intense look in Harry’s eyes. I soon came to realize that it was a questioning look, as if he was requesting something. But what did he want from me?

It finally clicked as he hesitantly lowered his face towards mine. Blinking in realization, I met him halfway and brushed my lips against his, to which he applied full force. His lone free hand found its way to the back of my head, while my hand pulled his waist even closer to my own, which really wasn’t very far to go.

I moaned almost inaudibly into the kiss as he nibbled on my bottom lip, begging for entrance, to which I gladly gave. Our tongues began to explore new territory in each other’s mouths. It seemed so new to me, and yet it was so natural. It seemed a downright shame to finally separate for air. As sense came creeping back into my mind, all I could think of to ask was, “What brought that on?”

“Well, we did come this far unintentionally,” he pointed out. “I just figured I would finish what we started.”

I smirked, bemused. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you set this whole thing up.”

“I was about to ask you the same thing.”

I grinned at his bluntness. But just as we were leaning in for another round, the door suddenly flung open. We both strained our necks to see Hermione standing in the doorway, a bewildered look in her eyes. The three of us shared a group stare down before Hermione finally gained the courage to ask what had happened.

“Long story short, a household spell got outta hand,” I explained shortly. “Mind giving us a hand?”

She already had her wand in her hand, and in a second the incriminating sheet was no longer binding Harry and me. We quickly got to our feet and stretched our sore limbs. “Thanks, Hermione.”

“You’re welcome,” she replied, albeit unsurely. She then turned to Harry and said, “Ron and the others are looking for you, Harry. The garden gnomes are being particularly difficult today.”

“I’m on it,” he said, straightening his clothes. He caught my eye for a quick moment before striding out of the room.

You were about to leave the room as well, when Hermione suddenly stopped you. “What was that all about?” she demanded to know.

“I told you, the sheet went crazy when I tried to use a folding spell on it and it tied us up for the past half-hour.”

She stared at me. “You know, the two of you were in a very incriminating position.”

“Don’t remind me,” I stated.

“I mean, I really thought for a moment that…”

“No need to bring it up. It was just an accident. It doesn’t leave this room. Got it?”

“Got it,” she confirmed with a smile. “Now come on. Mrs. Weasley wants us to help her bring the food outside.”

“Be there in a minute,” I said as I bent over to pick up the sheet. I was determined to finish the job, by hand if necessary.

When I had finally accomplished the folding, Hermione had already gone downstairs. I exited the room and was about to descend the stairs when I was suddenly grabbed from behind and cornered. Before I could even voice a threat, lips were on mine in a flash. Smiling into the kiss, my hands snaked around my assailant’s waist and slid into his back pockets, pushing the wand aside.

“I thought we agreed that what happened in the room stays in the room,” I remarked a minute later.

“Well, what happens in the hallway can stay in the hallway, can’t it?” was his playful comeback.

“Touché, Mr. Potter.”

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