You decide the best course of action would be to sleep in the sock. It was, after all, like a giant sleeping bag. You burrowed in to the cave of soft white fibers and fell asleep. Had you known what would come, you might have preferred to spend the night in your envelope.
***
Hermione Granger was not one to lose things, or forget about things, or fail to plan for things. But she found herself needing a pair of socks. Perhaps it was the fact that she had worn sandals for much of the summer. Or perhaps it had been the shrinking of the Muggle yesterday, or perhaps the mysterious envelope she had received last night. Either way, she was now holding up her somewhat-impatient family.
She walked over to the suitcase and unzipped it. There! A pair of white socks! Hermione grabbed them and fumbled with them, inevitably getting first one, then the other, caught on her feet. Immediately, they felt too hot -- maybe there was time to pull them off and...Her father cleared his throat and tapped his watch. No. There was no time.
Miss Granger slammed the suitcase shut and crammed her sock-clad feet into her brown shoes before running off, suitcase rolling behind her.
***
You had just woken up when you heard the rumbling of the zipper. When you heard the top of the suitcase flip open, you tried to exit the sock to see what was going on. But before you could go much further than the toe section, the opening at the end of the tunnel, where the light came from, was pinched shut by a hand, and you were plunged into darkness. A millisecond later, you and the sock were weightless, suspended out in space by some giant.
Then the end was reopened, and you saw a familiar face.
It was the girl who shrank you. Somehow, impossibly, the eleven-year-old girl who shrank you was now hosting you in her sock. The security officer must have seen her and decided you belonged to her. But did this girl -- this witch -- even know you were there? That the capricious desires of Fate had deposited you, once again, at her mercy?
Then the girl stuffed her feet into the sock, answering your question sufficiently.
Her skin was a mixture of tan and reddish-pink, but those were not the only colors on her feet. Her yellow-white toenails scythed through the air as her five behemoth toes wiggled for purchase. The pads of her toes had a thin layer of dirt, so the whorls and arches, instead of being covered, were thrown into sharp relief. And her feet stank horribly, you realized, gagging at the putrid scent.
But the witch continued to wiggle and shift her feet into the sock, and you were soon entombed under the ball of her foot as she got her sock on. It was hot, smelly, and dirty. Then, to top it all off, as you desperately tried to hold up her foot, you noticed transparent beads of water -- sweat droplets forming from the heat. As the first salty sweat drop landed on you, the girl slammed foot into the ground and started squirming her foot from side to side -- she was putting her shoes on, and inadvertently giving you a mouthful of foot. Eventually, you stopped being mashed into the odorous, dirty flesh as your enormous captor finished putting her feet into her shoes and stood up. Once again, there was a brief sensation of weightlessness as the foot lifted itself up, up, up into the air. You heard, garbled by the layers but still barely distinguishable, a voice say, "Coming, Hermione?"
The young, magical giantess's voice was only slightly muffled as she responded. "Coming!" Hermione, you thought. Could be a worse name. Then her shoe came down and all was pain.
***
Hermione ran excitedly to the airport. She was finally going back home! Though her feet were sweltering, and there was probably a pebble in one of her socks, nothing stopped her from practically sprinting down the polished tile floors. As the witch-to-be flew past a security guard, the guard turned and noted her brown shoes clapping against the floor. That girl might have almost missed her flight, the guard thought. Thank goodness American security doesn't make her stop and take off her shoes. Perhaps a little more than a decade later, he would be proven wrong.
As Hermione and her family waited in line as the crowd filed into the plane, she felt the pebble in her sock more acutely. So she tapped her toe on the ground, then the heel, then the toe again. The nuisance didn't entirely disappear, but it was good enough for now. Hermione promptly went into the plane, sat down at a window seat, and watched the Muggles as they worked to direct the massive plane. She felt a twinge of guilt for the person she shrank, and then ran away from. She was a Muggle-born, for Pete's sake! How would she if she were shrunken down by a mysterious girl? Then Hermione's thoughts turned to the midnight mail. Could she have accidentally endangered the entire Wizarding World? Was the envelope actually an official response to her actions? Oh dear...
As the young girl fretted, the pebble in her shoe became, insofar as pebbles can become anything, more insistent...
***
Now the horror of Hermione's run was over, you stirred again. You didn't feel the oppressive pressure of the young girl's feet. You could still smell the foot-stench, but that may have been nothing but an after-scent of sorts. Finally, you opened your eyes and saw...
***
Choice One: Hermione's Toes -- You were in the toe section of the shoe. Hermione, though unaware of precisely what she is playing with, will toy with you between her smelly digits.
Choice Two: Hermione's Arch -- Stuck between her ball and her heel, you will have the least amount of wiggle-room. However, Miss Granger will ignore you, so you may wish to plan your escape.
Choice Three: Hermione's Hand -- Finally deciding to look at the tiny trouble spot, Hermione will grab you and bring you to her face to inspect you. Be warned, however; she may not see you as a Muggle deserving mercy, and may seek to torture you (or "the bug/toy", if you so desire) while being very careful not to arouse suspicion in her fellow passengers.
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