The anatomy that Bellatrix had given her was wrong, meant for something other than what the woman was but Hermione found a way to make it work. The length slid in, cloying heat compressed around her and Bellatrix hissing out some mixture of pleasure and pain. The woman clawed at Hermione’s neck, her back, tore ribbons of bright red across clean skin and bit harshly into the crook of her shoulder.