Hermione’s Horticulture Part II

“Allomora,” pronounced Hermione sharply as she held her wand before her. A moment later, a brilliant white light sprang from its tip, illuminating the dark forest around her.

She cursed that Slitherin prissy Manora for leading her on this wild goose chase and vowed to turn her hair permanently green when she got back to Hogwarts. She never would have even considered trusting the girl if she hadn’t been so desperate. If there was even the remotest chance that her words had any truth in them, then it was worth the risk she was taking if it might clear Ron’s name. Still, she really should have considered her source more carefully.

Her wand helped to navigate the treacherous forest nightmare, but it had an unsettling tendency to wink-out at precisely the wrong moments. It wasn’t after all, a forbidden forest for nothing. Most charms, spells and potions were unreliable at best once you passed under the thick green canopy. She was just bridging a gully of sorts when she experienced one of those blackouts and suddenly found herself in complete darkness. The problem was that she happened to be right in the middle of a step when her light abruptly clicked off. She tried to freeze in her tracks, but gasped when her final footfall met open air.

“Oh hell,” she cursed under her breath as she fought to hold her balance. But it was already hopeless, and she felt herself teetering over the edge. The lack of illumination hindered her still further by giving her no point of reference as she tumbled head first into the gully.

She half expected that she would crack her head open on some rocky creek bottom, so it was as a surprise that she landed with a soft whoosh, as though she had fallen on her back into a large soft bed. She felt cool vegetation on her bare arms and legs and laughed outright. The plants and the soft ground had broken her fall!

“Of all the luck,” she muttered, smiling as she lay there on her back staring at the clear dark sky above. It was nearly a full moon, and seen this way, the forest didn’t feel quite so repulsive. It was mid-summer, so the nights were downright muggy, and even though the bugs were a bit bothersome, it wouldn’t be until late summer that they became something to fear. Wandering out at night then would be akin to suicide. The tiny vampires would suck you down to a mummified shell.

But the brief respite from the night’s heat felt wonderful on her skin, and Hermione sighed happily as she rested for just a few moments. She could feel the bed of vegetation shifting slightly under her, but that wasn’t surprising considering her fall. What did bother her was the one plant frond that had slipped under her skirt and was rubbing against her inner thigh. Groaning that she was going to have to move to extract the thing, she started to rise up.

“Ouch!” She cried as her hair was pulled sharply from behind. It seemed that her already mousy locks were tangled in the ground cover. To her surprise, however, so were her hands.

“Bloody hell,” she said aloud as she started to panic. She found that her arms were both wrapped in what appeared to be fern fronds that were much stronger than they appeared. Her ankles, she found a few moments later, were trapped in a similar manner, and no matter how hard she struggled, she couldn’t seem to break free.

Exhausted, she flopped back and tried to think about what she could do. Her wand, which was still diligently producing light just to her left, was hopelessly out of reach, and no one at Hogwarts, save possibly Manora herself, knew that she might have left the grounds illegally. Even if someone had seen her, they wouldn’t know where in the forest she had gone, or that she hadn’t returned. It might be days before anyone even thought to look for her.

She was considering whether it would be better to call for help or keep quite lest she attract something even worse than the tenacious moving plant life, when she noticed the change in the light. Her wand, which had been laying near her feet, now rose into the air, carried by a large, curled fern frond. Seconds later, she felt something at her chest and gasped.

A half dozen branches had reached around her torso and were playing with the buttons of her shirt. At almost the same time, the pesky frond that had gone up her skirt was slowly reaching into the leg hole of her panties.

“Shards and shells,” she groaned. “it can’t be?” Hermione was familiar with most magical plant life, but there was still a lot of un-cataloged fauna that were mainly rumors. One such plant was a cousin of Devil’s Snare, but it was generally not spoken of by polite wizards and witches because of its more “mature” nature. Still, juicy gossip, especially anything having to do with sex, was a major topic of discussion in the girl’s dorms when the adults weren’t around. So it was, that the Fucking Fern was indeed known to Hermione, even if no girl at Hogwarts had ever seen any, until now that is.

“This is not good,” she said to the empty forest as her panties started to slide down her legs. Up higher, the slow-moving fingers were gently popping open the buttons of her blouse, one by one, until the garment was open and loose. As she was gradually exposed, Hermione renewed her struggles to escape, but in the end, only succeeded in tiring herself further.

Ten minutes later, her panties and bra were gone, and her skirt was bunched up around her waist. Her legs had been slowly drawn apart, and the warm moonlight bathed her bare chest. She almost hoped that no one would find her in this rather vulnerable position… Almost.

She was laying there wondering what was next when she felt something touch the side of her left breast. Looking down at herself, she nearly fainted. The fern fronds were leaning in so that the tips of their leafy branches just barely grazed over the surface of her flesh. The result was almost painfully wonderful pleasure wherever they touched as they very slowly tickled her. Several fronds paid particular attention to her nipples, which caused her to twitch and squirm, and one curled tendril was slowly stroking the petals of her own quickly slickening flower. Her heart beating like an out of control drum, Hermione realized that the rumors about her plant captor must then be true, and that she was being very gradually seduced, and that this was just the foreplay for something far more intimate The problem was, it was working…