She's breathing heavily as both Parkinson's hands work their unexpected magic, and when Parkinson begins softly exhaling into her ear, Hermione can barely stand.
"You like it, don't you, mudblood, you like it, you just wish I could get my fingers all the way into your cunt, don't you, don't you. . ."
The words and the warm breath and the stroking and the nipping are glorious and awful and wonderful and dreadful and Hermione hates it and she hopes it won't stop and soon her legs are going to give way beneath her and. . .
"Here she be now. Here, kitty, kitty," says Filch's crooning voice. "She'll take us to 'em now, Headmistress."
"Excellent. Lead on, cat," Umbridge replies, and to her infinite relief, Hermione hears them begin to move on down the corridor.
When the coast is clear, she wants to whirl on Parkinson and slap her, claw her, but she doesn't. She just stands there while Parkinson, able to move more freely now, actually slides her hand into the top of Hermione's robes, inside her bra, and squeezes her breast hard, bare skin on bare skin.
"Go fuck yourself, Granger," she whispers, and with one final grope, she pushes out of the statue niche and is gone.
Hermione remains standing behind Unferth the Unwanted, as motionless as a statue herself, her mind whirling, her heart racing, her crotch throbbing and throbbing.
"You like it, don't you, mudblood, you like it, you just wish I could get my fingers all the way into your cunt, don't you, don't you. . ."
The words and the warm breath and the stroking and the nipping are glorious and awful and wonderful and dreadful and Hermione hates it and she hopes it won't stop and soon her legs are going to give way beneath her and. . .
"Here she be now. Here, kitty, kitty," says Filch's crooning voice. "She'll take us to 'em now, Headmistress."
"Excellent. Lead on, cat," Umbridge replies, and to her infinite relief, Hermione hears them begin to move on down the corridor.
When the coast is clear, she wants to whirl on Parkinson and slap her, claw her, but she doesn't. She just stands there while Parkinson, able to move more freely now, actually slides her hand into the top of Hermione's robes, inside her bra, and squeezes her breast hard, bare skin on bare skin.
"Go fuck yourself, Granger," she whispers, and with one final grope, she pushes out of the statue niche and is gone.
Hermione remains standing behind Unferth the Unwanted, as motionless as a statue herself, her mind whirling, her heart racing, her crotch throbbing and throbbing.