Harry, don't worry. The ritual requires me to use my hands to stimulate you," Hermione explained.
Huh?" asked Harry, he hated it when she used big words, especially when he was focused on the lost opportunity of another handjob.
Handjob, Harry," Hermione clarified, knowing that her use of '/big words/' threw Harry for a loop, specifically when he was already distracted. "Now go get your potion supplies."
Harry gleefully hopped into the air and scampered to retrieve his supplies like a boy on Christmas morning going to fetch his presents. Within seconds Harry had returned with his arms full. He was so happy about Hermione's promise of a ritual that would have her use her hands to stimulate him that he had forgotten what Hermione had actually requested. He remembered that she had wanted his potion supplies, but he was afraid that she would need something else. So to be on the safe side, Harry not only brought Hermione his potion supplies and cauldron, he also brought along his Herbology supplies, his telescope... and for some odd reason, a pair of his dirty socks.
While muttering "not this, or this," Hermione discarded Harry's telescope and herbology supplies. But when Hermione was about to fling the socks away, she paused and rechecked the ingredient list in the book. "That's strange," she said to no one in particular. "I do need these." She then unceremoniously tossed the socks into the cauldron along with several other liquids and powders from Harry's potion supplies. After stirring the concoction clockwise four times and twirling it twice, Hermione commanded: "Sit on the bed, Harry."