He’d finally crept into position and she’d felt him at her entrance. He’d thrusted forward and she’d felt something go inside, some, but it didn’t feel hard enough. It did have some shape and for all she’d known, that was how it was supposed to go. Maybe that was how it worked. Soon she’d realised otherwise, of course, when he’d stumbled backwards and cursed, struggling with a second condom as he stroked himself with increasing embarrassment and frustration. Eventually, that had repeated itself and Hermione gave up.