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Summary
“Have you ever… felt yourself?”
Hermione’s thick, black eyebrows moved toward each other minutely as she cautiously replied “In what manner do you mean?”
“The way a lover might hold you,” said the princess simply, turning her head to face her Lady in Waiting. “Just to see what it might feel like. A hand on your breast, perhaps your waist, wandering…”
Hermione watched in mildly horrified fascination as the princess’ right hand moved across the fabric of her own skirt, rustling the many layers and sliding ever so slightly down, down…