The city was large and full of Muggle shops. Ophelia hardly minded the location; it wasn’t as though she hadn’t been there before. Her governess, Ms. Rachels, had taken her to frequent outings, often as a treat or a way to forget… Forget the vain lifestyle of her parents; forget what it was to be a young witch leading the life of a pureblood. Returning had always served to remind her of how little her absence actually changed. Her mother had barely missed her when she was gone; she doubted her father ever took notice. But Muriel, too young to go for extended outings, was always excited for her return. She would practically attach herself to Ophelia’s side for the remainder of the evening. Ophelia would always bring her back a present, usually a Muggle story book. By the age of five, Muriel had quite the handsome library of children’s books. In a way it was good neither of her parents paid too much attention to their daughters, if they had, they might’ve discovered Muriel’s prized collection of Muggle books and burned them all.  

Tonks lead her into one of the bigger stores that the Muggles called a “mall”. It had a smaller store inside it, one of which was devoted to women’s undergarments. Ophelia’s Governess had never taken her into one of these malls; they had kept to mostly smaller stores that inhabited the less-crowded spots of London.

“Here we are!” Tonks announced unnecessarily. Ophelia could obviously see from the outside what lay inside the store. It was mostly decorated in feminine shades of pinks, with mannequins dressed in lacy things that barely covered the essentials.

“Tell me,” Ophelia said, glowering at the store, “what’s the point of wearing underwear at all if it’s barely there in the first place?”

Tonks laughed as though she had been joking. “C’mon, that’s just to entice the men; there are some more sensible things inside.” She said, pushing Ophelia along while emplacing her last word.

“Right then. I’ll just go look on my own.” Ophelia said, feeling a blush rise to her cheeks. She really did not want to be there. She glanced about uncertainly. There were some pretty women going through panties together and seeming to have a good time of it. Ophelia glared at them and wandered over to the opposite wall. She hadn’t realised Tonks had decided to follow her until she heard a loud crash beside her. Whirling around, Ophelia looked on as Tonks flustered and apologised to a sales associate as they set right several mannequins. Ophelia moved on quickly, wanting no association with the clumsy, pink-haired woman. She took the opportunity to duck out of sight and explore on her own. There were shopping bags hanging from the wall, she took one down, feeling more comfortable for having something to carry about her business in.

Ophelia wandered from display to display, wondering why in the name of Merlin there were so many varieties of women’s underwear. It was simply excessive. She stopped at one model in particular, staring in horror at the two inches of lace that covered the front and the mere string that was the back. “My gods, what’s the point of that?” She muttered under her breath and moved on.

She had to repress a sigh of relief when she finally came across a section of bras and panties that seemed decent by this store’s standards. Ophelia studied the model curiously. Limited lace: good; amount of coverage: decent; silky texture: tolerable. Ophelia picked up a black pair and wondered if it would fit comfortably. From how it looked on the model it stretched across the hips, ridding low beneath the bellybutton. They were rectangular, like a very miniature pair of shorts. The model certainly looked attractive in them… Ophelia picked up a few pair of these in the black.

Nearby was some more sensible underwear. Cotton, low-cut like the rest, but at least they were recognisable as something one might wear under their clothes. A few varieties of these in modest colours joined her black selection in the bag.

Now… for bras. The thought was daunting. She had no idea where to start.

“There you are,” Tonks said cheerily, and Ophelia wished she could make some excuse to leave. “Have you picked up anything nice?” She asked, shooting a look to the bag Ophelia was now clutching shut.

“Yes.”

“Have you had a look at the brassieres yet?”

“No.”

“Well come on then!” Tonks said, taking Ophelia had and leading her to the other half of the store. “About what size are you?”

Ophelia flushed and wished she had paid more attention to think like this when shopping with Ms. Rachels. “I haven’t the faintest. Whatever’s smallest, I would guess.” She mumbled.

Tonks gave her an appraising look that made her blush deeper. “I’d say you were right about a 34AA, maybe a 32A depending.” She lead her over to various racks, randomly picking out all sorts of patterns and styles and handing them to Ophelia. Just as quickly Ophelia replaced some of the more… questionable ones.

“I think I’ll go try these on,” Ophelia suggested promptly before Tonks could hand her any more bras. She off to the fitting rooms sooner than Tonks could give a reply.

Ophelia closed the door with some relief behind her. She threw down the bras carelessly on the stool and slumped against the wall and heaved a sigh. Closing her eyes, she resolved to try on the blasted things and get it done and over with –as quickly as possible. She was just about to remove her shirt when she overheard two women entering the changing stall next to hers. Brushing off the first notion of two women being in a stall together as odd, Ophelia lifted her jumper over her head and hung it on a hook. The other two women were talking excitedly, and Ophelia casually listened to their conversation as she unhooked her bra and tossed it down with the new ones. She looked at herself in the mirror, critically observing the shape of her breasts. She had always imagined that they’d be a bit more round instead of conical. Her nipples stood out a bit, even though the air was warm. She made a face in the mirror; she didn’t like the way they looked. They had to be the most unattractive breasts in all of England.

Disgusted, she grabbed the nearest bra –this one was simple and flesh coloured with a bit of padding in the cups. There was a floral pattern to the material, but she hardly minded. She fastened it in the back and flipped it upwards, pulling the straps over her shoulders. It was loose and not all that comfortable. The cups were too big and the shoulders fit all wrong.

Ophelia took it off and placed it back on its hanger and tried the next one. This one was more of a creamy white than a flesh coloured with no padding and an attractive cut. Lace trimmed the tops of the sea-shell shaped cups and along the bottom strap. This one fit much better, seeming to hug her breasts comfortably. The straps felt odd, but those could be adjusted.

“I can’t believe it!” Came the rather loud exclaim from the other stall.

“Shhh!” The other woman scolded while giggling. “Isn’t it perfect? I’m so glad I got it pierced.”

“Didn’t it hurt?” The first woman replied.

“Like a bitch! It swelled terribly, but after all it was well worth it. He fancies it.”

Ophelia listened in some confusion, mildly curious as to what had been pierced, but decided to go about her business. She took off the creamy white bra and placed it in a pile of its own.

“To think I was considering getting my clitoris pierced.” One of the women was saying. This let loose a riot of giggles in the next stall over.

Ophelia paused, mouthing the word clitoris with some confusion. What in Merlin’s name is a clitoris? She didn’t think she’d ever heard the word used before in a sentence. Shrugging, Ophelia reached for the next bra and tried that one on as well. And so she went, until she’d tried on all five bras, two in the definite pile and the other three sitting neglected on the stool.

 “O? You in there?”

Ophelia grumbled silently and was tempted to say nothing at all when Tonks just came through the door anyway.

“That was locked for a reason!” Ophelia admonished. “Besides,” She said in a lowered voice, mindful of the Muggles in the other stall, “you’re not supposed to use magic with Muggles about.”

Tonks only giggled, giving her a mischievous look. “I brought you more things to try on. Oh, and I picked out these lovely thigh-highs for you to wear.” She said, holding up a package of black nylon-stockings. “Bit more practical than pantyhose as you can re-wear them if you don’t get them too dirty.”

“Right, this is the last bunch though. I don’t want to be all day at this.” Ophelia said, looking over the handful of bras and picking out the ones she would actually consider trying on. Ophelia turned her back and waited for Tonks to leave. Funny thing was: Tonks didn’t seem too interested in going.

“Well?” Ophelia intoned, giving her a sharp look over her shoulder.

Wordlessly, Tonks unhooked her bra and slipped the straps off her shoulders. Ophelia froze in a moment of pure terror. “I’m taking this bra,” she said, “and you’re not getting it back.”

Ophelia didn’t have the voice to make a reply. Instead she set about trying on the next bra in an effort to cover up. Tonks seemed intent on helping. From behind she adjusted the straps and then she reached around –and Ophelia nearly gasped from shock. Tonks tucked her hands underneath her bra and lifted her small breasts into the cups.

“There now,” The voice seemed to purr in her ears. “There’s a good fit for you, love.” Tonks guided her around to face her. “No need to blush so much, my dear. It’s quite pretty on you. You’ve got right perky breasts. 32A, just like I thought.” She smiled, a kind, soft smile –almost affectionate.

“Could I … try on the rest of these myself, please?” Ophelia managed to say. She sounded odd even to herself; the soft, girlish voice too different from her own.

Tonks nodded, looking appropriately abashed for once.

Alone in the stall, it took her a few moments for her mind to come down from whatever cloud it had been on. She breathed deeply, trying to clear her body of the memory of soft hands gliding over her flesh. She was not used to being touched like that; she had never been touched like that. As her mind crashed back into her body the new awareness that she could be touched like that descended with no small amount of … what was this? Pleasure? Arousal? Desire?

Ophelia breathed deeply. It wasn’t like that. Tonks was just trying to help, but going about it in the worst way possible as usual. The touch wasn’t one of a lover’s; it hadn’t been anything like that. It was just a touch, one done out of necessity than a desire to seduce. That was so, and she knew it… but then, when the reality of what had happened hit her, why did she feel so … good?

End Part II

Part III     Flashback Part I