"What would your dear Cormac think?" she asked, moving her hands up and against the line of her night gown. A displeasing gasp escaped her. Hermione could feel a tightness she never knew existed before rising between the juncture of her thighs. A warm wetness followed suit and a tantalizing blush rose to her cheeks. "You are not a saint, Hermione Jean. I wish you would stop acting so high and mighty when we all know you are just as susceptible to the touches of a woman as we are. It is my job to draw that yearning out."
A/N: I don't know if I'll use this bit in BIB, but enjoy it anyway!
-Carolare Scarletus