Hermione waited as the clock chimed for one O’clock. She pictured Narcissa in her bed, wearing those strange overly formal clothes. They reminded her of the pictures in her Muggle history books. She felt herself get wet just thinking about Narcissa, the taste of her blood. How it felt to be utterly in control over the woman whose family had hurt her. She felt more than that for Narcissa too, it was revenge, it was power. It was something sweeter than both. She cared for the woman, she liked the tea she drank, the perfume she wore. She felt it first, the reflection of what Narcissa laid doing to herself. The feeling took a while to get used too, and she added her own feelings to the mix. She focussed on her clit, leaning back in the pleasure. She felt Narcissa relax, become more focussed. 