His work was involved with literature, he had read 4-5 Atwood novels and enjoyed them, so that gave him a reason to talk to her and something to talk ...bout. He was quite shy around women and normally found it very hard to maintain a conversation with a woman he didn't know. Over the last few months they had discussed several of Atwood's novels; James enjoyed telling her about Canada as well as about Toronto where Atwood lived. Her comments on the novels stimulated him too, making him want to. “But my friends call me Shan” she added.Shan directed me to her apartment building and I pulled into a space in front to let her out. “Hey, you want to come up for a beer?” Shan paused to ask as she opened the door. I sensed an opportunity, and shut the truck off. “Sure.”Her apartment was neat and tidy. She grabbed us a couple of Ultras and we stood in her small kitchen chatting. She was 24, and a med student at the local college. I was twice her age, which made our impromptu friendship seem. Hermione shivers as a flush comes over her entire body. “Be quick about it, Mudblood; there is more to be done yet,” Umbridge barks at her from her classroom’s teacher desk. “And spread your legs far apart like the slut you are.”As Hermione spreads her legs apart, revealing her private areas to her teacher once more, she picks up the quill and furrows her brow. “You gave me no ink, Professor,” she says in confusion.“You will not need any,” Umbridge replies, a smirk on her face.With much. She was playing the long game and had begun by showing what was on offer.Her next step was carefully planned. She began to take a great interest in my photography and asked me about my cameras, the lenses I used, the film stock, the dark room equipment, and the techniques for enhancing the enlargements. She was convincing.After that initial burst of enthusiasm, she avoided the subject for a few days, then asked me, almost as an afterthought, if I would take some portraits of her. To take home.