Author's Note: THIS IS RATED "M" FOR A REASON. LEMON. If you are not looking for decadent smut, this is not for you. ONE SHOT.

*** Please also note that Hermione is an ADULT in this story. There is no sexual content in the flashbacks because she was a minor.

This is my first lemon- I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it! Lucius is just such a source of inspiration... *fans self*

::ALONE TOGETHER::

A harsh November wind cut through her cloak as she walked briskly through the outer halls of the courtyard. A near-full moon lit her path, with the help of the eternally-living flame torches that graced the walls. The torch light seemed welcoming, but lent no heat to any persons foolish enough to not already be tucked inside away from the freezing wind. Hermione shuddered as a chill went up her spine, and pulled the garment more closely around her, muttering a warming charm to stave off the cold until she could get back to her classroom- back to the safety of being alone.

Hogwarts had always been her sanctuary as a student, and had continued to be even in her adult life. Even in times of war, when the entire castle seemed to be one unending battle, the familiar stone walls brought her comfort; a sense of security...until the day he arrived.

For five years, she had embraced the order and routine of teaching the new generation of Hogwarts students. The time immediately following the war was one of rapid change, with popular opinion, social order, and even magical law changing as the wizarding community started to rebuild. Unlike Ron and Harry, she had chosen to return to the ruins of Hogwarts to help restore the school, and to finish out her delayed seventh year. Upon graduation, Headmistress McGonagall had offered Hermione the position of Transfiguration teacher, which she had readily accepted. What better way to do her part in rebuilding than to help foster positive relationships between the different demographics of Hogwarts students?

Yet repairing Hogwarts would not take merely stone and mortar, but a critical rethinking of inter-house relations. This year, at Minister Kingsley's behest, a board had been created to take regular tours of the school to see how the new, more inclusive program had improved tolerance and understanding between the old rival houses. Kingsley had assured McGonagall that the board would not be solely comprised of Ministry officials, and would include regular citizens of both Muggle-born and Pureblood families. Hermione had thought this quite wise and fair of the new Minister, and had signed up to represent the Hogwarts staff in their monthly gatherings.

When the term started that September, she had arrived early to the first meeting, not wanting to miss anything of importance. A varied group of wizards and witches arrived shortly after she - some, she knew as individuals who had helped implement change immediately after the war six years ago; some she did not recognize but knew to be vouched for by Kingsley. It was beginning to look like an excellent group for such a committee; she was pleased with all the choices- but then he walked in the room.

All it took was one flash of that platinum blonde hair out of the corner of her eye, and she knew who had arrived. Instantly, blood rushed to her head, singing in her ears. The father of her most hated rival; the man in whose family home she was given her most horrific scar, the figure who haunted her dreams... She had not seen him in over six years, since the Battle of Hogwarts. Since the moment she had been herself questioning about so many nights afterwards…

"Why?" the question echoed in her memory...

And then there he was. Like no time had passed at all. His cloak billowed out behind him as he swept in, instantly the most commanding presence in the room. The impeccably tailored black robes he wore only enhanced his aristocratic grace. He had strolled elegantly into the meeting, and placed himself exactly opposite of her across the table. Still reeling from the sight of him, she couldn't conceal the flush that colored her face, and she imagined that he could actually hear her heartbeat, as chaotic as it was. He, of course, had remained the picture of grace, and was able to calmly, almost languidly, participate in the meeting with ease.

Throughout the entirety of the hour, she struggled to keep her mind on the task at hand, her imagination conjuring up flashes of fantasies- open mouthed kisses on her neck, white hair tangled in her fingers, dark whispers in her ear. Unnerved by her out of control thoughts, she had bolted as soon as the meeting was concluded, and when she finally did get to sleep that night, her dreams continued those forbidden thoughts. After that night, Dreamless Sleep potions became her nightcap to preserve her sanity.

The meeting and tours would continue on in the same pattern, and tonight's board gathering had been no different. From the moment he had entered the room, she had felt hyper aware of his presence - of his eyes lingering on her. Their gazes met- he cocked an aristocratic eyebrow at her, and she immediately looked away. She felt hot, and confined, like the space was not big enough for both of them to be together in the same room at once. She could feel the urge to get up and run, run far away from this beautiful, confusing man, and the dangerous questions he caused her to ask herself. This was only the third meeting of the year, and Hermione wondered how long she could keep this up and not go absolutely mad.

She had fought hard to appear calm and still, forcing herself to be hyper focused on the report Tracey Davis was giving about the improvement in tolerance she had observed between the Slytherin and Gryffindor houses. Barely letting her eyes stray from her parchment upon which she was furiously scribbling notes, Hermione had refused to look at him again for the entire duration of the meeting. Closing notes were given by Ernie MacMillan, and the moment the meeting was declared adjourned, Hermione had snapped up her notebook and darted out the side door, not daring to stay and try to properly say goodbye to anyone.

Her walk back to the Transfiguration classroom had been a cold one, but she was grateful for the change from the stifling heat she felt when Lucius was near. With one swift motion of a wandless Alohomora, she opened the heavy wooden door, and swept all the way up the rows of tables to her desk, still caught up in her frantic momentum. Still feeling suffocated, she pulled off her outer robe, revealing her Oxford button up and sensible skirt.

She leaned over the front of her desk, gripping the dark wooden edge with both hands, trying to calm her thoughts. Memories from the last few months came to her mind, unbidden - a gloved hand offered to her on a staircase during a tour, which held on to hers a moment too long. Saying her name casually to another wizard while holding her gaze. A brush of his body against hers when he had plenty of room to move around her without touching.

Moments that, if it had been anyone else, could have been written off as accidents. But nothing he did was accidental. He was graceful; purposeful. She knew he was choosing to toy with her, knew he could sense that he was undoing her. Why did that one moment, years ago, have to change everything? She had been plagued by his deep voice asking the unanswered question… "Why?"

She shivered, not at all from the cold, and let her eyes close. She pictured the memory, a decision made by something other than reason or logic, something more like instinct…

Smoke burned at her eyes, causing hot tears to spill down her face. The cacophony of screams and curses throughout the castle made it impossible to discern who was on which side, where her friends were, where her enemies lurked. She tripped over the dusty rubble, desperately searching for any sign of Harry or Ron- they had just been right beside her.

Panic was clawing at her throat and she began wildly scanning the area around her, she had ended up at the top of the main entry staircase. Fenrir Greyback was off to the side of the stairs, being cornered by half a dozen witches and wizards. A single house elf was digging through the debris, clearly in frantic search of a companion. Up above, Draco Malfoy was struggling to hold his own against two dementors closing in on him.

A flash of black caught her eye on the ground level, she could make out a hooded figure raise a wand, pointing it at something behind her. Her eyes followed the line of the weapon to a person she would recognize anywhere. Lucius Malfoy was clawing through the crowd, oblivious to the threat, clearly desperate to reach Draco. She had never seen him look so human; it occurred to her for the first time that he, too, was fighting to keep the ones he loved safe. The clamor suddenly seemed to fall silent as she heard a strangled curse, and felt a crackle of energy arc up that could only belong to an Unforgivable - she moved before she could think.

Lucius Malfoy had just laid eyes on the threat below him before he came crashing to the ground under the weight of Hermione Granger knocking him down. The violent spell hit the space where he had been standing just seconds prior and ripped open the marble floor with enough force to shake the entire staircase.

Disoriented, Lucius found himself speechless, eyes darting back and forth to stare into the eyes of the young woman above him. She met his gaze with a wild stare, as if she was as surprised as he was at the fact that she had just thrown herself into danger to save his life without a moment's hesitation. She could see the bewilderment in his eyes and absently wondered if he could see the same in hers.

He opened his mouth to speak, but then his eyes went to something beyond her- the hooded figure had doubled back to finish the job with a flash of green light. Lucius flipped her over, shielding her with his body as he roared back a deflecting spell followed by his own Killing Curse. The figure crumpled to the stone floor, hood falling to reveal the ashen face of Gregory Goyle, eyes staring blankly in death.

Hermione hadn't realized she had been holding her breath - she suddenly exhaled as her adrenaline caught back up with her, causing the curtain of silvery blonde hair hanging around her face to flutter. He looked back down at her, inches above her, striking silver eyes boring into her warm brown ones, and for a moment, neither of them moved. He seemed to be looking for something in her gaze, some explanation or reason.

It suddenly seemed to her that he was truly seeing her for the first time, slowly raking his eyes over her features. She realized that she could feel the warm weight of him pressing over her, so much warmer than she had ever imagined he would feel. It felt safe here, underneath him, as though there weren't a world-ending battle ravaging on mere steps away. To her shock, she began to feel a foreign heat spread throughout her.

Biting her lip nervously, she disrupted the moment, and he snapped his gaze back to meet hers. A single word left his lips, a question that would haunt her for years to come.

"Why?"

She was unable to speak; unable to answer this impossible question. Why had she risked everything for someone meant to be her enemy? And then it was as though she was no longer in control of her body. She could only see his face, looking at her for the first time with no trace of animosity. It leveled her. For reasons she would spend years trying to identify, she tilted her head up towards him, eyes locked on his slightly open mouth...what it would be like…-

- the furious roar of a defeated Fenrir Greyback ripped her attention away. Ashamed and terrified at her own actions, she used the distraction to shove Lucius away from her, scramble to her feet and make her escape, never looking back at the man whose life she had inexplicably saved...

Six years had passed since that day. Despite countless hours questioning herself, Hermione still did not know what had made her do it, made her risk her life to save that of someone who had caused her nothing but misery, but she could not forget about it. She couldn't forget about the way he looked at her. She couldn't forget him...

"Always so quick to leave."

Hermione whirled around, heart pounding wildly in her chest. He stood in the open doorway, shadowed by the torchlight of the hallway behind him. In the darkness, she could make out the ghost of smirk of his lips.

"Why is that, I wonder?" he mused, looking at her with a predatory satisfaction.

She instinctively clutched onto the desk behind her back, desperately trying to think of a calm response to send him on his way.

"Mr. Malfoy, the meeting is over, and we have nothing further to discuss. I have a great deal of parchments to grade, and I'll thank you to be on your way," But even as she spoke, she knew her composure betrayed her fear, and perhaps some other emotion...

A quiet chuckle escaped his lips as he moved from his still position at the doorway, slowly walking closer as he spoke.

"If I didn't know any better, Miss Granger, I'd think you were...afraid that we would be left alone together." His voice was velvet and dripping with meaning.

He stopped just in front of her small form. Hermione noticed for the first time just how much taller he was than her. He reached out one gloved hand for hers, observing it with the patient regard of study.

"You have avoided my presence far more after saving my life than you ever did when you were trying to defeat me. Curious. I can't help but wondering, why would you be afraid to be near me after putting me forever in your debt…"

He lifted her hand to his mouth, and never breaking eye contact, and left the ghost of a kiss upon it. She stood absolutely still, mind racing, trying to gain some level of self control. She knew that her face was hopelessly flushed, and again her treacherous heart betrayed her inner turmoil.

She cleared her throat and retorted, "It may have escaped your attention, but I am not a child anymore-"

He interrupted,"No, Miss Granger, it has not escaped my attention that you have...come into your own." He took a moment to look her up and down, smirking slightly, and she inwardly felt that she could physically feel his gaze roaming her body, burning like a brand.

"I can handle myself, and certainly anything you could attempt to throw at me. I have nothing to fear from you," she continued, feeling less confident than she sounded.

"But do you have something to fear from yourself?" he countered. The tone of his voice told her that he had a damn good idea of what it is she would have to fear.

This can't be happening...you've spent too many nights dreaming about this, and you've finally gone over the deep end...he is still the vile Death Eater you knew as a girl… she mentally tried to scold herself into action.

She attempted to step quickly to her left, and out from his too-close, dizzying proximity, but he easily trapped her between his strong arms to either side of her against the desk, and gave her a devastating smirk.

"What is it you are afraid of..." he continued, leaning closer to her. She breathed in his expensive cologne, and stayed perfectly still, not trusting herself to move an inch, with her heart drumming so fast she wondered if she would faint.

One of the arms imprisoning her moved to the small of her back, to pull her possessively into him. Hermione knew he could feel her heart slamming against his chest and, embarrassed, attempted to look away - but he swiftly lifted a finger under her chain, turning her to look at him in the eyes.

"...was it perhaps something like this?" he continued wickedly, as he lowered his head and placed an open mouthed kiss on her neck. All thoughts of a retort left her as he pulled the neckline of her pressed shirt out of his way to languidly kiss the exposed skin. He trailed a hand down the curves of her body, barely touching the side of her breast. She began to feel lightheaded, finding it hard to focus on any one thing at a time. One of his long, firm legs pushed hers apart, and he lifted it so that his knee pressed between her thighs.

This snapped her out of her dizziness- she needed to stop, to put some distance between them before she lost herself. She put both of her hands on his chest, intending to shove him away, but she was stopped by the sight of her small hands on his broad form. An unbidden memory of being pinned to the stone floor and silver eyes looking searchingly into her own came springing forth to her thoughts. She gazed at her hands on his chest, caught in the memory. Her hands had somehow become entangled in his silvery blonde hair, and she looked up at him. She opened her mouth to try and say something acidic, but ended up saying his name, barely above a whisper.

"...Lucius…"

He closed his eyes at the sound of her saying his given name for the first time. It seemed to give him immense pleasure, and he let out a shaky breath. There was a pause, and neither party moved for a beat, lost in what was happening. Then his eyes snapped open and he roughly pulled her up in his arms to sit on her desk. He began running his hands up her sides, more boldly than before, letting his strong hands stroke her breasts over her shirt as he went along.

"Perhaps you feared something like this," he hissed, as he pulled the top of her neatly buttoned shirt apart to reveal her breasts, presented to him like a precious gift in a dainty pale blue lace bra, and began to grasp them firmly, kneading and twisting her nipples through the delicate fabric.

Hermione gasped and arched her back, giving herself into his touches. Her panties were dampening quickly, and she moved against his leg so that at last, his knee pressed all the way against her center. Her breath was coming in short, shallow gasps, as his hands slipped inside her bra to pull it down. He stopped his actions to gaze at her chest, unobscured by clothing, and slowly, almost reverently, lowered his head to take one flushed nipple into his mouth. Her mind went foggy as she lost herself in his attentions.

"My, my, Miss Granger...one would almost think you were enjoying this." he hummed against her chest, lightly biting the swollen pink tip. He rolled the sensitive peak between his teeth, chuckling darkly to himself when she jerked violently at the pleasure-pain that shot through her. Using his tongue to soothe the abused point, he brought a gloved hand to firmly pinch its twin, bringing a pink flush to her chest.

"Does that scare you? A Malfoy bringing you to the brink of pleasure?" he demanded, kissingly roughly up from her breasts to her neck, still using his hands to tweak and pull her flushed nipples as he whispered the rough words into her ear. Despite herself, she arched underneath his touch, desperate to feel more. He abruptly ripped her bra away, sending it to the floor.

"Or perhaps that excites you? To be ravaged by a man you swore to hate? Have you been wondering what it would be like since that day?"

She looked at him through heavy-lidded eyes.

Since that day...

What the dark figure in front of her did not know, could not know, was just how many nights she did wonder…. Wondering why she saved him only to damn herself to years of torment. There were so many nights she had woken up in twisted sheets, heart hammering from the things that they did in their dreams. It was always him. She dreamed of his velvet voice promising her all of the forbidden things she craved. She dreamed of his weight over her, holding her down as he took what he wanted, what he needed from her. She dreamed of his hand over her mouth as she cried out his name endlessly, lost in ecstasy.

Lucius dropped his hands slowly from her breasts, earning a frustrated groan from the young woman in his arms. Again, he smirked viciously, as he moved one gloved hand to his mouth, biting onto the glove to pull it off. He trailed the hand down her abdomen, leaving an electric trail in its wake. He stopped when he reached the waistline of her skirt.

"I think you will find you don't need this anymore." he said silkenly, waving his hand for an impressive show of wandless magic as the skirt ripped itself off her body.

Hermione gasped out loud at the cool air on her skin, feeling incredibly exposed yet not wanting to seek cover.

"W-why are you doing this?" she asked shakily, realizing the weight of the situation.

Lucius did not meet her gaze, eyes transfixed on the delicate scrap of pale blue lace between her thighs that matched her discarded bra. He was looking at her with a need she had never imagined, drinking in the sight of her body like a man dying of thirst. He had begun to breathe heavily, for the first time not showing perfect composure.

"You're so pure, so good. So fucking good," He whispered jaggedly, trailing a single finger along the waistband of her panties, "Why are you so good? What reason did you have to risk yourself...?" he softly demanded, repeating the question she had never answered in over half a decade.

Without warning, he dragged the finger down across her center, his touch electrifying her even through the damp lace fabric. A soft moan escaped her lips, and she bucked her hips towards his hand despite herself. He was in awe of the intoxicating sight before him- the witch that saved him, that haunted his dreams, spread out in front of him with only a few scraps of fabric concealing her from him. He began to slip a finger into the front of her panties, desperate to touch her, to see for himself if she would feel the way he had imagined all these years.

At this, Hermione gathered the last remnants of her sanity, and placed a hand over his, stopping him. His gaze snapped back to meet hers, questioning.

"I don't know why I saved you," she suddenly blurted out with wide eyes, "I just couldn't….I couldn't let you die,"

He stared back wordlessly at her, hand paused at her waistband.

"Seeing you fighting...you were suddenly this person, this good person who was ready to do anything to save his son..." she whispered, not knowing why she was confessing her most secret thoughts to him.

"It made you human...and then we crashed together, and you were so much warmer than I imagined, and you were looking at me like nothing you had ever seen and I didn't want to look away," she admitted quietly, "I wanted to…"

She paused, her hand still covering his. The room was silent save for their heavy breaths. Then, in a moment of courage, or perhaps insanity, she kissed him, crashing them together with a strength she barely knew she had.

He instantly let out a deep groan, angling her head to deepen the kiss. He bit at her lower lip, and she gasped a little, allowing him to slip even deeper into her mouth, his tongue sliding along hers with a heat that sent shivers through her spine. He was not gentle, holding on to her neck with a firm hand and laying claim to her with rough bites and sinful movements of his tongue.

"Do you know how you have haunted me all these years?" he pressed, his voice hoarse with anticipation.

His hand at her knickers slipped down between her thighs, and he nearly came undone at the feel of her silky warmth, already slick with need for him. He groaned into her kiss.

"Lucius…" she breathed, as he began to run a finger along her soaked slit.

"Such a good girl...so wet for me already?" he questioned deviously between kisses.

At that, she simply let out a whine of need, all thoughts of dignity long gone.

Without warning, he pressed one strong finger up into her tight warmth. She gasped and held onto his shoulders with fingernails that dug into his fine dark cloak. He smirked at that reaction, and slowly pulled back and forth, pumping gently at first. She grabbed him for another breathless kiss, and arched again when he added a second digit, pumping and rotating inside her.

"Have you wanted this? Hey? Have you dreamed of me fucking you with my hand?" he hissed venomously.

"...I…" Hermione breathed, caught somewhere between being too ashamed and too pleasured to answer.

"Miss Granger, you will answer me," he threatened, adding a third finger none too gently to emphasize his point.

"Y-Yes! Yes, I've dreamed...I've dreamed of this…" the brunette answered shyly, scarcely believing she was admitting it, but desperate to have more. She rocked against his hand in her knickers, rotating and reaching for more.

Lucius seemed placated at this, and moved closer to her to catch her mouth in a devastating kiss again. At this closer angle, she could feel an iron-stiff length of heat press up against her core. She trembled at the feel of him. Curiously, she reached out to run her hand up the length of it. Lucius shuddered at her touch, and let out a shaky breath.

"Witch, you will be the death of me…" he breathed, eyes closed in pleasure.

Emboldened, she brought her other hand to join, and began steadily stroking him while unbuttoning his trousers. He brought one arm to lean on the desk for support, letting out harsh breaths.

"Miss Granger, I will finish what you start," he threatened darkly, face tight with concentration.

Feeling dizzy, Hermione slipped a hand underneath his trousers, until she felt his hardness, iron stiff and silky smooth. She pumped him, using the wetness at his tip to glide her hand up and down. Lucius barked out a breath at the sensation, lowering his head to her forehead. His hardness was almost too big to wrap her hand around. He shuddered with every slow pump, close to being undone by the witch in front of him. His ministrations on her wet slit set her whole body alight. Eyes locked as they used their hands on each other, she felt her heart would beat out of her chest.

"Tell me what you're going to do to me," she begged, breathless, high on the sinful movements on his talented hands.

"I...am going to...fuck you...Miss Granger." he promised darkly, between kisses up her neck.

She barely had time to gasp before he swiftly pushed her down to lie flat on her desk, still standing between her legs. He quickly grabbed his wand and cast a slicing spell on her dainty panties, sending an erotic thrill through her entire body. She propped herself up on her elbows, watching him. He then moved incredibly slowly, pulling away the ruined garment from her body, to see her laid entirely bare before him for the first time. He stood transfixed, leveled by the sight of her slit glistening with want for him.

"Is this all for me?" he asked her in a sinful voice that rendered her near tears of frustration and desire.

She couldn't take it anymore, she squirmed in his grasp, needing him more than she had ever need anything in her life.

"Please!" she whined, wanting him to move, wanting to finally feel him. He was so close.

"Eyes on me, or I stop." he warned, holding her gaze. She nodded frustratedly, willing him to lean forward, and-

Without warning, he thrust into her.

It was devastating. It was everything. He fit perfectly in her, reaching the most pleasurable spot inside her. She let out a small cry, not fully believing what she was experiencing. He hissed out his pleasure, beginning to rock back and forth within her.

"Fuck...witch...you are so tight...so tight for me…" he groaned, pulling in and out agonizingly slow.

Unconsciously, she raised her hips, willing him to go deeper, deeper inside her until she didn't know where she ended and he began. He drew in a quick breath at her movement. He pumped his hardness faster now, building a fast pace, fucking her into a blissful insanity. Pulling in and out, he continued his brutal thrusts, hitting the perfect angle inside her. Lost in her pleasure, she dropped down from her elbows to lay flat on her desk, but suddenly felt the loss of his member inside her. Bewildered, she looked up to hiss her displeasure.

"I said...eyes on me." he reminded her, holding his length at the wet slit of her entrance, slowly rubbing it up and down the crease. Ready to do anything to keep him going, to keep him undoing her, she propped herself up again, holding his gaze with disbelief and wonder as his length disappeared inside. It was impossibly erotic.

He began fucking her slowly again, each time reaching a little deeper. The slower pace was agony and pleasure all in one.

"That's a good girl...yes, take me," he chanted, "tell me… you've wanted this…"

"I've wanted this...I've needed this...so..many..times.." she moaned, no longer caring how vulnerable she sounded.

"Did you imagine I've wanted to bury myself inside you and fuck you until you forget your name...hey? Is that what you've kept hidden to yourself all these years?" he demanded, keeping up his powerful rhythm.

"Yes," Hermione whispered shamefully, still holding his gaze.

"Yes, what?"

"Yes, sir."

At her words, Lucius felt the last shred of his sanity snap. He roughly grabbed her and yanked her off the desk, turning her over to face away from her, and forcefully bending her down over the edge. Without missing a beat, he buried himself back inside her, reaching a new, impossibly pleasurable angle from behind. She let out a strangled cry at the new sensation, grasping for purchase through the rough thrusts. Several ungraded parchments went scattering to the floor as he shook the desk, relentlessly hitting her perfect spot again and again.

He slammed into her again and again, leaving a rosy blush on her perfect derriere. The angle at which he was thrusting made her very toes curl, and she could feel herself lifting even higher on her heels, desperately reaching for more. She gave herself into him, barely registering any other sensation beside the hard length pounding into her again and again.

"Is this what you wanted? To be bent over like a good girl for me?" he demanded violently.

She turned her head to look back at him with pleasure-lidded eyes.

"Yes...sir."

Slap! The sound of his hand leaving a red mark on her behind rung through the air.

"That's what good girls get, Miss Granger," he panted, "would you like another?"

"Yes, please, sir," she begged, loving how dirty she felt playing along with this scene.

Another sharp slap to her rounded behind. He quickly pulled out and left a lighter slap on her cunt, and then drove himself into her at a newer, harder pace. She felt herself tighten, she was almost, almost there...

"Fuck...you're getting so tight...are you going to come for me? Come, come for me, my beautiful good girl, ahh…" he said, running his words together like a prayer.

"Lucius...Lucius...I'm going to, I'm going-" she breathed, and then her entire body shook with a crashing orgasm that sent her heart slamming out of her chest, her legs suddenly could no longer support her-

"Fuck, yes, take me there, yes-" with a loud groan, Lucius followed her into his own orgasm, pumping into her until he was entirely spent. He collapsed on top of her, pinning her to the desk under his weight.

For a moment, there was only the sound of both of their hearts beating wildly in the silence of the empty room. Lucius pulled out from her and turned her over on the desk so that she could lay down comfortably beneath him. She lay there as her heart rate steadied, and held up a hand to caress his face. He leaned into it and placed a kiss on the inside of her palm.

He glanced her over, marvelling at her flushed face and wild hair, that he had done that to her. He appraised her with an appreciative and self-satisfied look, and then reached down to effortlessly rearrange his trousers to their proper state. He turned and picked up her delicate discarded bra, pocketing it with a cheeky smirk, and swept out of the classroom, pausing at the door. He met her eyes with a mischievous look, relishing the sight of her completely undone for him.

"Well, Miss Granger…I look forward to the next time we are left alone together."

::FIN::

A/N: Hope you enjoyed! I would love to receive constructive criticism, or, you know, proclamations of my smutty genius. Cheers!