Hermione reached out for something, anything, to defend herself with. She saw a silver vase in her peripheral vision and dove for it. His hands were on her before she even made it close, slamming her harshly back against a grand piano. The keys echoed horrifically through the room as he turned her on her stomach and pinned her down. One arm was pressed against her spine while the other reached for the hem of her satin dress, tearing it and fiddling with the stockings and clasps at the top of her thighs.