Chapter 33: The Dancing Shoes of Chaos and the Periwinkle Split part- 1
I checked my system status.
Current Points: 535 (Accumulated from previous disasters).Shop Item Available: The Dancing Shoes of Chaos (400 points).
(Purchase,) I commanded.
"Purchase successful," the system chimed. "Item added to inventory. To use, simply tap the target footwear with your wand while visualizing the desired dance style. Warning: The shoes do not care about the wearer's flexibility."
That evening, we met in the empty Charms classroom. It was dusty and filled with unused desks pushed to the sides. I lit the lamps with a flick of my wand, casting long shadows across the floor.
"Okay," Hermione said, stepping out from behind a transfigured screen. "Behold the fortress."
She stepped into the light. The dress was undeniably beautiful. It was a periwinkle blue material that shimmered in the light. But to my trained eye (and my Structure Analysis skill), it looked stiff. It moved less like fabric and more like flexible armor.
"It looks... sturdy," Harry offered.
"It is," Hermione said, rapping her knuckles on the bodice. Thud thud. "It could stop a reducto curse. Now, the shoes."
She sat down and pulled a pair of silver heels out of a box.
"These," she explained, "are standard heels. I tried to find combat boots that matched, but they clashed with the periwinkle. So, I have applied a Permanent Sticking Charm to the soles. They will not slip."
"Let me help you with those," I offered, stepping forward and kneeling down.
"Thanks, Ron," she said, extending her foot.
I took the silver shoe. As I slid it onto her foot, I tapped the heel with my wand, hidden by my sleeve.
(Dancing Shoes of Chaos: Activate.) (Style: The Can-Can. Intensity: Maximum.)
"There," I said, standing up and backing away to a safe distance. "You look great, Hermione. Really secure."
"I feel secure," she nodded, standing up. She took a few tentative steps. The shoes clicked loudly on the stone floor. "See? Perfectly stable."
"Right," Harry said, stepping forward and holding out his hand. "Shall we try the waltz first?"
"Music," Hermione commanded.
I waved my wand and an enchanted music box in the corner began to play a soft, slow melody.
Harry and Hermione took their positions. Twelve inches apart. Hands placed gingerly.
"One, two, three," Harry counted.
They took a step.
Suddenly, Hermione's left foot twitched violently.
"Whoa," she gasped.
"What is it?" Harry asked.
"My foot," she frowned. "It... it wanted to kick."
"Nerves," Harry assured her. "Just relax."
They took another step.
This time, the shoes took over. The enchantment I had laid was not for a waltz. It was for the high-energy, leg-kicking French Can-Can.
Hermione's right leg shot up. Not a polite little kick. A full, ballistic launch aimed at the ceiling.
"Ahhh!" she screamed.
Because her dress was reinforced "Dragon-Silk armor," it did not stretch. It was rigid.
When her leg was forced upward by the possessed shoe, the dress had two choices: stop the leg, or break.
The shoe was powered by a system-bought curse. It was stronger than the dress.
RRRRRRIIIIIP.
The sound was like a sheet of plywood being torn in half.
The seam of the dress, starting from the hem and going all the way up to her hip, exploded.
"My leg! Put it down!" Hermione shrieked, balancing precariously on one foot while her other leg was held vertically near her ear by the shoe.
"I cannot!" Harry yelled, grabbing her waist to keep her from toppling over.
Then, the other shoe joined in.
Hermione's left leg (the one she was standing on) decided it was time to jump.
She launched into the air.
"Catch her!" I shouted helpfully from the sidelines.
Harry caught her. But because her legs were kicking wildly in a rhythmic, high-speed dance, catching her was like trying to hug a blender.
She kicked Harry in the shin.
"Ow!" Harry grunted, buckling.
He fell backward onto a pile of cushions we had laid out (for safety).
Hermione landed on top of him.
But the shoes were not done. They were still dancing the Can-Can. Even while lying horizontal on top of Harry, Hermione's legs were kicking and splitting wide open in perfect rhythm to a beat only she could feel.
Kick. Split. Kick. Split.
The dress, already torn up the side, was now completely compromised. As she did a split on top of Harry's chest, the skirt fell away completely to the sides.
Now, Hermione had mentioned the dress was armor. But she had neglected one thing: underneath the armor, she needed to wear something breathable to avoid heatstroke (remembering the Hogsmeade incident).
So, underneath the heavy dress, she was wearing... sheer, thigh-high silk stockings and a very minimal, very lacy garter belt.
(...cough...)
"Stop it! Stop kicking!" Hermione screamed at her own feet, grasping her legs which were flailing above Harry's head.
Harry was lying underneath her. Every time she did a split, he got a front-row, high-definition view of exactly what kind of lingerie a teenage witch wears to a formal ball.
The sheer stockings. The intricate lace of the garter belt. And the matching knickers that were definitely not cotton clouds today. They were black lace.
"Black," Harry whispered, his eyes wide, tracking the movement of her legs like a spectator at a tennis match. "It is black lace."
"Do not look at the lace!" Hermione shrieked, trying to hold her dress closed, but her hands were busy trying to stop her knees from hitting Harry in the face. "My shoes are possessed! Ron, do something!"
"I am trying!" I yelled, suppressing laughter so hard my ribs hurt. "It must be a rhythmic curse! I need to find the counter-beat!"
I pointed my wand at her shoes.
"Finite Incantatem!" I shouted (intentionally missing the shoes by an inch).
Nothing happened. The shoes continued their high-speed performance.
Hermione was now doing a bicycle kick motion on Harry's stomach. The friction of her silk stockings against his robes was creating static electricity.
.....
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