They'd toed a line for a while now. The underlying attraction that had been there from the moment their eyes met across the room at the fifth annual gala was there, but neither spoke of it. To speak of it would give voice to the fact that neither were opposed to the idea of pursuing that attraction. Both evidently thought that was craziness.

For his part. He'd wanted to wait until she was more adjusted to not just her power, but being a witch,now that the war was over.

For her part. Well, he didn't really know what her reason for delaying the inevitable was. The fact that it was him at all might have had played a role. He didn’t think so, though. He didn’t get the impression it was him causing the problem. Weasley perhaps? Who knew?

He hadn't meant to intrude tonight. He had been assigned the task of escorting her to the festivities. Someone got engaged. He wasn’t sure he could remember who. It seemed every day engagements, weddings, and births happened lately. The two of them were usually the only two consistently without a guest. So it wasn’t an imposition for him to collect her as requested.

He, in fact, looked forward to it.

He'd knocked and she hadn't responded. He opened the door to see if she was even in her rooms. It was possible she'd gone down another set of stairs while he was coming up. He heard her humming softly from her dressing room area and without thinking made himself invisible. It was rare he was able to watch her undetected. He just wanted to see what she was doing without startling her.

He was drawn to her, as he always was.

He'd thought the attraction would diminish after a while of seeing her all of the time. That wasn't the case. She grew more attractive to him every time their paths crossed. She was amazing and he hated the thought of someone else claiming her, which was why he'd been overjoyed to hear she was without a date for the night.

She wasn’t always. None of her chosen escorts had been … right for her. He’d never realized until this most recent ball that the reason he thought so was because he was right for her. And there was only one of him.

He watched, transfixed as she put the finishing touches on her hair. A soft haze of hairspray filled the air. It smelled sweet. Like her.

She wasn't dressed yet, wearing a short silky looking dressing gown that she hadn't bothered to secure. He had a nice visual of the swell of her breasts and the flatness that was her abdomen as a result. His view stopped just short of the juncture at her legs. Teasingly keeping all of her from being open to his perusal.

Her hair done. Next came the makeup.

She didn't need much, she was beautiful without it. She was a young woman and, like most women, wouldn't go out without her war paint on. He'd never really had the chance to watch a woman get ready like this, without their knowing he was watching. Even if he realized while doing so that he had no business being here like this.

And yet. He was unable to turn around and leave.

She leaned closer to the mirror, puckering the lips he’d noticed more than once at her reflection. He was pretty sure there was a reason for the move, but much to his gratitude it raised the hem of the already short dressing gown precariously higher. High enough he knew she wore nothing but the skimpy robe. He placed his fist to his mouth to stifle the groan threatening to escape his lips as he tried to picture just what the skimpy robe was covering up.

He should leave.

He wasn't sure what it said about him that he was rooted to the spot like this, watching her get ready.

Coveting her.

Picturing just what she'd look like without the robe. And getting turned on doing it. He must have been lost in thought longer than he realized because she was done with her hair and makeup before he knew it.

She turned then, regarding herself in the mirror. Briefly, it seemed like she was looking right at him. If he didn't know better, he'd swear she knew he was there despite his being quiet. She skimmed her hip and stomach with the back of her hand. He thought she was smoothing out the robe. That thought was quickly dismissed when she slid her hand up, higher, cupping one of the breasts he was just admiring the swell of moments ago.

Her movements caused the robe to fall open almost completely now, leaving little to the imagination. And he found that his imagination, while not wrong, did not do her complete justice. Her breasts weren't overly large, but from where he stood they looked perfect. Supple, round, perky, especially the peaks now standing at attention due to her ministrations.

Her eyes fell closed as her other hand slid lower, between her legs. She parted her legs ever so slightly, a tease of a view if he ever saw one. He wasn't sure where to watch, her hand stimulating her breast or her finger coming increasingly close to sliding inside of her.

Her fingertip dipped between her legs, disappearing just a little inside of her. She slid it up then, trailing a path to her breast where she circled a nipple with it. He was growing hard, harder than hard. It was better than any adult movie he'd ever seen.

And then just like that, she stopped. He wanted to scream a protest, fall to his knees and beg her. Anything to continue the show he'd just been witness to.

She fixed the robe a little but still hadn't bothered to secure the belt at her waist. He saw her hardened nipples through the silky fabric. Who had bought it for her anyway? Had she bought it for herself? He found himself jealous, wondering who she had in mind if she had bought it for herself.

He turned, caught in her trap and watched as she walked into her bedroom and sat on the bed. She made an exaggerated production of putting on a pair of stockings. Not pantyhose, just stockings. He saw the garter belt when she stood, fastening the tops of the stockings to the garter. She took a moment to run a fingertip over her slit once the stockings were adjusted.

Too late, he realized she knew he was there. He should have tapped into her thoughts earlier. The show had been for his benefit. He couldn't help the wide smile coming to his lips at that knowledge.

At the moment all she wore was the robe and the garter with stockings. She leaned down, she had to know that she was flashing him everything there was to see. Her beautiful and very firm ass, something he had been fond of watching more than she probably realized, her slit already moist from her own touch.

As if she was the one with the ability to read minds, she shook her ass a little and bent over further. He groaned softly when she proceeded to crawl onto the bed, kneeling just at the edge of it.

I know you're there and you're enjoying the show as much as I am. Come see how wet I am.

How could he resist such an invitation? Magical abilities or not, he was a man. And resisting her was even more impossible now than it had been when they first became friendly. He walked up to her, working his belt and the fastenings on his trousers as he went.

"Are you sure," he whispered.

"God, yes, I've been waiting for you to come to me forever, Severus."

"Forever?"

"It seems like it." She shook her ass again, as if to remind him of what she was offering. Of what was right here for him.

Like he'd forget.

He stepped up behind her, his still invisible hand cupping her ass. She let out a soft groan and threw her head back, pressing back against him.

"We're running late," he whispered, a valiant attempt at taking the high road.

"We're the last ones to leave, I’m sure. No one's going to come looking for us. And wouldn't it be a great way to spend the party, knowing what we've done here first?"

"Hermione…"

"Severus, don't you want me?"

"You know that I do. I've wanted you since I first saw you at the first ball."

"Then?"

"Oh God, Hermione, but you were only just recently my…"

"Don't even say it. You are not my professor anymore. I wasn’t that night either."

He was hard, throbbingly hard.

"I love you and you love me. How can that be wrong?"

"Well…"

"Try it. If it feels bad we'll stop."

"Feels bad? Hermione…" She was all kinds of crazy if she thought this was going to feel bad. "At least lay on your back for me."

"You don't like it from behind? I thought every guy liked it this way?"

"Our first time I want to look at you."

"Without me being able to look at you?"

"Turn over," he said. As she did, he let himself be visible again. "Someone comes in, you're going to look like you're doing something illicit by yourself because I'll go invisible again. I don't think Poppy could handle this."

He shed the rest of his clothes, feeling himself get more aroused as she watched him. She obviously liked what she saw and wasn't afraid to let him know that.

"She knows, Hermione. She's not dumb or blind. We're the only ones bothering trying to fool ourselves."

He crawled onto the bed beside her and kissed her. If he was going to do this, rushed as it may have to be since they had some place to be - he was going to do it right.

His hands worked quickly along her body, not taking the time to fully learn what made her hum. He didn't have the time for that. Later there'd be plenty. Right now, he just wanted to know she was ready for him. Funny, now that he was here, about to do what he'd dreamt of doing for a while now the guilt, the reasons not to just didn't seem important. She was right, he was not her professor.

He trailed his mouth, following the path of his hands, tasting her sweetness with his lips. He dipped between her legs and thought he'd found the Garden of Eden itself. In this he was thorough, bringing her off with his tongue and fingers.

After a few minutes he felt her tap his head. She cast the spell over her abdomen and smiled when he looked up at her.

He was as gentle as he could be, mouth finding hers so he could kiss her as she cried out. He wondered if every time would be like this. She was so tight. Wet enough so he didn’t feel as if he was hurting her, but tight. Gripping him securely, making him think she wasn’t more experienced at this than he was. He was anxious to find out what she’d feel like the next time. And the next. And the next after that. He’d never had that experience before. It seemed fitting he finally would with her.

He was more than diligent in his attention to her, showering breasts and neck and clit as much attention as he could. She milked him, squeezing like a vise. When she finally came she clutched his forearms with her hands, eyes wide and he got to watch as she succumbed to the passion, the need to let go.

Perhaps it was the expectation, the anticipation. Years now of being near her, wanting her but subjecting himself to thoughts that he couldn't have her. Whatever it was, he found his release too soon. He liked to think it was just her.

They took a little time to cuddle and explore, but they were more than just a little pressed for time. Hermione took the time to adjust his ascot for him. He noticed she didn't put anything on underneath her gown beyond the garter belt and stockings.

"Are you trying to make me crazy?"

"Why's that?"

"I'm going to have to sit there knowing you've got nothing on underneath."

She leaned in and kissed him, giving him a wicked smile.

"Then turn invisible and come find me. I'm sure there will be some place we can get away for a few minutes."

"You deserve better than that."

"I'm asking you to do it. And besides, it'd be fun."

"Fun she says."

"Sure. You know everyone there's going to be all stuffy." She flicked his jacket's lapel with her thumbnail. "So, it'll just be up to us to be sure we have fun."

"No one has any idea how much of a handful you are."

She smiled widely. "I have no intention of being a handful for anyone else. Not like this anyway." She brought his hand to her breast. "Only you get the pleasure."

"And it is a pleasure."

"That we can both agree on." She turned then, his hand fell to his side when she let go of it. "I guess we should go, don't want to be too late. People might wonder."

She grabbed her purse from the top of her dresser once she put herself together completely.

"How do I look?"

"Beautiful." He said it without thought. It was true, though.

"That'll do."

He watched her leave the room, still not entirely ready to believe they'd just done it.

He had sex with Hermione. He was taking Hermione out. Was it a date? Did they both want it to be one?.

It would be fun to take her right in front of someone. She had been fairly quiet in bed, but the noises she did make were pretty obvious. Sex. Passion. Arousal.

And she did get aroused. Once he'd been inside of her, she'd responded better than he'd imagined. She'd been slick yet so tight around him. It was addicting.

He watched her go down the stairs. Anyone watching would see a college-aged woman, an air of innocence underneath her beauty. That wasn’t a negative. He was glad she, and most of those who’d been older during the second war, still had any innocence left. Yet she was elegant, having slipped right into the wizarding lifestyle she’d chosen to remain in post-war without batting an eye. He liked knowing what she was really like. He enjoyed knowing that she'd shake hands and smile tonight having just been satisfied by him. Having just put a show on for him.

"I like knowing that while other men in the room will be looking at you, you're mine."

Her eyes widened. Was it possible she didn't know? It wouldn't be easy, Harry might try to kill him if he found out. Maybe. Maybe not if they broached it correctly. Because there was no way he was walking away from her now.

"I am?"

"You think what just happened was a fluke? That I would have done what we did if it didn't mean something? Everything?"

"Well, no, but…"

"I love you, Hermione."

"I love you, too, but you've known that for a while."

"Yeah, I have. I wasn't ready I guess,” he admitted.

"And you are now?"

"What can I say? You caught me."

She smiled then and leaned in to kiss him. "I think it was you who caught me. Sneaking into my room. Naughty man." She was smiling. Teasing. Aroused. Not mad.

"Is that a bad thing?"

"Mm, no, in fact," she said, kissing him again, lingering on his lower lip. "It'd be fun if you did it again."

"The element of surprise would be gone."

"I'm sure we could come up with some way to keep that there."

"You are going to be a handful, aren't you?"

"I'll do my best," she said, settling against him. He draped his arm around her, liking the feel of her nestled against his arm. Publicly they couldn't do this, at least not yet, but for now he could enjoy it.

"I wouldn't have it any other way."

"Me neither."

~The End~

Story ©Susan Falk/APCKRFAN/PhantomRoses.com