Nightmarish

No matter how hard she tried to focus Hermione couldn't settle her thoughts on anything but what Daphne said and did. Greengrass may have spoken the truth about symptoms that alluded her research. Her skin felt hot and she felt hungry for touch ever since Daphne had given her that spank on her rear end, and every hour that passed it just got worse and worse.

An hour after her encounter with Daphne she brushed someone's hand in the hall between classes and it sent a shiver through her body. By lunch every stray glance someone gave her curves felt like a hand touching her, groping her. She didn't even make it to diner instead she had hidden herself in the second-floor's girls bathroom.

The sign on the door read out of order but it was a well known fact that outside of chipped tiles and cracked sinks the room was just fine, disused not from disorderly plumbing but a bad history decades prior. Made home to a ghost named Myrtle, and despite Hermione's **** need for privacy she didn't think she could make it to the Gryffindor Dorm's bathroom. So she prayed Myrtle would respect the privacy of a running fountain head as she peeled off her clothes, and ran a shower with the coldest water it could muster.

The ice cold water washed over her voluptuous to avail, her skin was on fire. Her hands moved to her huge breasts and felt her hard nipples under the icy shower. She pinched one and bit her lip and moaned hard, god they were so sensitive. With great difficulty she moved her hands from her breasts and hugged herself tight. Slumping forward she put her head against the old cracked tile and let the frigid water run river down her back.

All she could do, all she could think about was how much she wanted to feel someone's touch. No that's not what she wanted and she knew it, she wanted more than that. She wanted someone to hold her tight, she wanted someone to share a bed with. Every inch of her body wanted to pull someone in tight and let herself be taken, or to take someone. Yet she resisted because she knew that wasn't her, that was whatever that damn potion was doing to her. God if Daphne said was true then Hermione needed to owe her more respect if she endured this for three whole months.

As Hermione's thoughts drifted to Daphne she lifted her head back up and arched her back, letting the icy-cold rush of water hit her face. The thought of Daphne's large breasts stretching her uniform tight in the chest, her round perfect rear end and how it swayed as she walked with the slightest bounce on each step, and the way the words rolled out of her luscious lips when she had mocked Hermione earlier today. Then without thinking Hermione stopped hugging her sides tightly, and her fingers found her way between her legs and the heat wasn't as bad.