Harry's face was burning, as he raced to the toilets. His gaze darted guiltily from one face to the next, sure that everyone knew. His pace shifting between a fast walk, and realising he was almost running, and forcing himself to slow.
The toilet door crashed against the wall, as he opened it with a distracted strength. Thankfully, the corridor was empty, and after a quick inspection found the toilet was too. Hands shaking, he double checked all the cubicles, before slipping into the end one.
Unsure, why he was doing it, but not wanting to stop in case he lost his nerve. Harry struggled to undress in the tight confines of the toilet.
Pulling Ginny's panties into place, he was amazed at how much they stretched. They clung to his hips, the lacy pattern stretched out of shape. Quickly he pulled his trousers on again, only breathing easily as he tightened his belt, and tugged his jumper back down.
It was impossible to forget them, as Harry felt them shift with every movement he made. Standing, sitting, even immobile, the material was unlike anything he'd worn intimately before. He spotted his abandoned boxers sitting atop the closed toilet seat.
They triggered just as much anxiety, with a quick spell he turned them into dust. A swipe of his hand scattering the dust.
Leaving the cubicle, it was his crimson cheeks clear in the mirrored wall above the bank of sinks that screamed his secret to anyone.... everyone!
Shaking his head, he tried to dismiss the guilty look. He left the toilet.
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