Hermione hadn’t time to internalise the stinging pain in her back tattoo or worry about what Snape was doing out of her sight. Her eyes were drawn on Lucius as he released the nose ring and bridle, happy that both were fixed fast in place. He bent down gently, giving the golden breast caps a playful bop, until he had crouched to Hermione’s thigh level. She could feel his fingers over her puffy outer lips, Hermione’s wanton gait meant that closing her legs was an afterthought, as her clit was crying out for attention. She knew the two intent Death Eaters would be ready to punish her for incalcitrance, it made little sense to try and protect her non-existent modesty.