Dizzying speckles of light reflected off the crystal chandelier and danced across the marble floors. A strand of charmed string instruments played, staccato beat morphing into a sweeping crescendo.

Slender fingers held the stem of a champagne flute, lifting it to pink lips and tipping back a delicate sip. A dress that looked like liquid gold flowed over a petite frame, trim waist and round hips leading to dainty feet encased in shiny straps with tiny buckles.

When the object of Harry's obsession tilted her head back with a laugh, exposing the smooth line of her neck, he had to adjust himself surreptitiously as he shifted on his feet. She'd been winding him up all night with little whispers and hooded glances. Each time, she'd dance out of reach just as he got close enough to touch.

Minx.

Harry hated these things. Bloody flashy galas, full of black ties and schmoozing. The only bright spot was that they gave him a front-row seat to watch the splendour of Hermione Granger in a pretty dress with a blinding smile, charming every grumpy old witch and wizard she encountered.

These events were important for her because her department ran largely on private donations. The dances and events were the perfect time to convince wealthy potential donors to reach into their bottomless pockets and throw some coins in the department's coffers.

The wizard in hideous mustard-coloured robes currently waltzing Hermione across the floor spun her towards Harry and he seized the opportunity.

"Mind if I cut in?" Not giving the man a choice, he slid between them, forcing the man to back up as Harry took his witch into his arms.

Finally.

"Hello again, Miss Granger."

Her bright eyes shone up at him, that little crease on the bridge of her nose that always accompanied her broadest smiles in full view.

"Mr. Potter, It's rather rude to interrupt mid-song." Her sweet smile turned into a smirk, lighting up her face.

Cinching his arm around her just a little tighter, Harry led them in a slow waltz, head dipping to meet hers on a particularly weepy interlude.

"I've been watching you all night."

"Have you?" She glanced up at him through her lashes, teeth tugging at her bottom lip. "And do you like what you see?"

With a bored look, he shrugged. Huffing, Hermione smacked his shoulder with the palm of her hand. "Prat."

"Wildcat."

Her expression took on a speculative air, and the hand that had rebuked him just seconds ago stroked down his chest as she curled her lips and purred playfully.

The pretty gemstones decorating her ear lobes caught his attention as they sparkled in the light from the ballroom's massive ceiling. Everything about her was delicate: the set of her shoulders, the line of her jaw, her small hands and feet—everything but her hair. It was wild, untamable, and nothing like the soft, shapely body it adorned.

He loved it, even when it took on a life of its own, somehow always getting into his mouth, attempting to suffocate him in the night, or plugging the shower drain.

On nights like these, she always did her best to subdue it somewhat, but as she'd grown older, she'd cared less about making everything look perfect and focused more on accepting who she was—every part.

She was a hurricane, a monsoon, storming in and wiping everything out, leaving calm waters in her wake. She'd torn him to the ground and built him back up, piece by piece, after the war when just going through the motions of a normal life felt impossible

Lost, that's what he'd be without her. Hopelessly, utterly lost.

No matter where they were or what was happening, she was his true north, the star by which he guided his entire life.

"Harry."

Pulled from his reverie, he looked down at her. "What's that, love?"

"I know you have this place memorised from top to bottom. Take me… somewhere." The mischievous glint in her eye told him all he needed to know.

She was right. Keen awareness of his surroundings was a force of habit, even when not on the job, and really, he supposed, it was another stain on his life left by the war. He needed to know where everything and everyone was at all times. Without that, he felt unmoored, cornered like a skittish rabbit.

With his hand on her lower back, Harry guided her from the main ballroom, slipping out before anyone noticed. Two right turns and a sharp left later, they arrived at a door Harry was pleased to find it was already unlocked.

After throwing up a few precautionary charms, he turned to find Hermione standing with her back against the door, dainty arms crossed at the wrist above her head.

"I haven't been entirely honest with you, Auror Potter."

It took a second for Harry's brain to catch up with the scene before him, but when it did, he knew just what she wanted.

She wanted to play.

Oh, he could play.

"What do you have to say for yourself, Miss Granger?"

He stepped closer, inching into her space without yet touching her, but he managed to keep a straight face, bracing his forearm against the door and leaning in.

"Earlier in the evening, when you came upon me in the library, you were right. I was trying to nick that book. I'd bring it back, of course, but it's an edition that's incredibly hard to come by and I just wanted to touch the pages."

Her expression was deadly serious but her eyes twinkled. Harry bit the inside of his cheek, fighting the urge to smile.

"That's awfully naughty of you."

"But I confessed. Surely that ought to count for something."

Leaning in until their noses brushed, he finally touched her, free hand stroking down her side until he reached her hip, using his grip to tug her body closer until they were pressed together.

"Hmm. I don't know. Crime can't go unpunished, you know. Turns the whole order of the world upside down."

She started to speak, words melting into a soft whimper as he lowered his mouth to her neck, lips and tongue and teeth tormenting the spot he knew drove her crazy.

A little breathless now, she said, "I—I can make it up to you."

Making his way up her neck, he nipped at her jaw before pulling back to look her in the eyes.

"What did you have in mind?"

A sly smile crossed her face as she brought both hands up to his chest, pushing him towards an upholstered chair. "Sit down."

He didn't need to be told twice.

With more grace than one should have whilst going to their knees, she knelt on the floor, hands running up his thighs. With deliberate eye contact, she dipped her head forward, mouth sliding over his cloth-covered erection, the very thing that had been bothering him all night because of her teasing touches and coy smiles.

If asked, he'd probably deny it, but he may have tilted his hips forward just a bit, just enough to bring her mouth down a little more firmly against him.

She tutted, pulling back with a disappointed mien. "Patience."

Harry wasn't sure how they had gone from him hovering over her against the door to her taking the wheel of the whole affair, but he couldn't say he minded much. Bold, take-charge Hermione was a sight to see.

Her fingertips danced lightly over him as she moved to undo the button on his slacks. So slowly he was pretty sure he could hear each tooth of the zip disengage, she pulled it down, parting the fabric to stroke him over his pants.

All this build-up was driving him batty, and he supposed it was only fair after the many times he'd wound her up, teasing her and bringing her so close to the edge without letting her fall over.

Still, he really wanted to take her hands in his own and guide them until they closed around his cock, finally giving him the pressure he needed.

She tugged at his shirt, trying to pull the tails up. The positioning was awkward because of the chair, but he shifted around to help her, pleased when she trailed wet kisses over his lower abdomen.

Pulling at his waistband, she prompted him to raise his hips a little so she could tug him free from the confining fabric. When her fingers finally closed around him, skin to skin, he released a deep breath.

"My, someone's excited," she said when she found him already standing at attention.

"Your fault, you little tease. I had to stand strategically next to a potted fern at one point tonight just to keep from embarrassing myself."

A grin curled her lips, showing off her teeth in a lioness smile—like she wanted to devour up. It was a favourite of his, that expression, and it guaranteed he'd be ready and raring to go.

"You love it," she said as she tilted her head to the side, tongue darting out to wet her lips.

"Godric help me, I do."

Slowly, she pumped up and down his length, running the tip of her tongue along the underside of his cock.

When her moist lips closed around the head, his eyelids fell closed, the view of Hermione on her knees with his cock in her mouth blurred by the fluttering of his lashes. "Fuck."

Each movement was deliberate, designed to wind him up. With her hands at the base, she slid her mouth up and down his cock, using just the right amount of suction when she pulled back. She rubbed his thigh with one soft hand, and it felt like she was everywhere, all at once. Before he could stop himself, he leant forward, hands sinking into the loose curls at her nape.

She blinked up at him, eyes sparkling as she reached up and laid her fingers atop his, encouraging him to close them just a little tighter in her hair. He was pleased when she moaned around him at the slight sting.

He thrust his hips forward, fingers going slack in her hair when she choked. He was ready to pull back when her hands clutched the backs of his calves, she pulled away enough to shake her head.

They were still learning each other in this way, growing familiar with each other's bodies. He worried sometimes that he'd move too fast, get too caught up in the moment, and hurt her—which was the last thing he ever wanted to do. The idea that his scarred and calloused hands were allowed to touch someone so perfect and whole and unblemished from the inside out was sometimes more than he could wrap his head around.

Still, she was perfectly capable of knowing her own limits and taking what she wanted. He had to trust that she would tell him if she didn't like something.

This time, when she took him into her mouth, and his hips bucked up a little, she was ready for it, smoothly sliding him into her throat. On the stroke back, she tightened her lips around him and sucked, sending tingles up his spine.

She worked him over, long minutes passing in silence but for the obscene sounds echoing between them. Her small hand closed over the base of his cock, moving in tandem with her mouth. He knew if he let her go on for just one more second, he'd come, and he didn't want to do that. Not that her mouth wasn't heaven, but he wanted to be with her, be in her, surrounded by her.

When his fingers tightened in her hair, inexorably pulling her off of him, she pouted, lower lip shiny with moisture.

"You're not getting off that easy, Miss Granger."

"But—"

It took a little wiggling, and some frantic tugging, but he managed to stand and pull his trousers up enough so they didn't fall down to his ankles, zip and button still undone.

Hermione still knelt on the floor, staring up at him with big, brown eyes. He extended a hand and yanked her up, pulling her close until she fell against his chest, heart to heart. Without another word, he tugged up her skirt, directing her hands to close around the fabric on either side, leaving her legs free to wrap around his hips as he boosted her up. "Hold on."

With her in his arms, he stepped toward the desk, barely managing not to stumble in his haste. Sweeping an arm out over the desktop, he swiftly cleared it of clutter and trinkets, setting Hermione down when he was through.

Sitting there, she looked pleasantly rumpled, lipstick smudged down her chin and hair far messier than it had been earlier.

"If you're making up for your misdeeds, I really ought to be inside you when I come, don't you think? You owe me that at least." The seconds directly after he said it were tense as his mind raced with thoughts that he might have gone too far with the roleplay.

The slight smile twitching on her lips just moments before disappeared, and her expression melted into faux innocence, eyes darkening with desire and soothing his worried mind. She slid her hands over his shoulders and up to his nape, fingers playing with his hair. Leaning close, she spoke against his lips, "Yes, sir."

Unable to resist her a moment more, he stepped between her thighs and kissed her, one hand on the back of her head to deepen it. When her tongue flicked out to trace his lower lip, he growled, crushing his mouth to hers, needing to get closer, go deeper still.

Sliding his other hand up her leg, he slipped it under her thigh, tugging it to the side and spreading her open. She was scrabbling at him, hands everywhere at once, sweet mouth giving as good as she got.

It was painful to wrench his mouth from hers, but he managed, trailing kisses over her jaw and down her neck. When his fingers found her centre, she was drenched through the material of her knickers, and he groaned at the sensation.

"Fuck, Hermione. You're soaked for me. Sucking my cock did that to you? You filthy girl." She opened her mouth, probably intending to deliver a witty comeback, but her words became a moan when he slipped his hand under the fabric and cupped her heat, thumb brushing over the little bundle of nerves there as her nails dug into the back of his neck, stinging just enough.

Fingers hooking in the waistband, he yanked her knickers down her thighs, ripping them in the process.

"Oops."

One corner of her mouth tIcked up in a grin as he tossed the scraps aside. "You can buy me a new pair."

With both hands under her knees, he tugged until her arse rested at the edge of the desk and she leant back on her elbows. Gripping her hips, Harry pushed into her with one slow thrust, and a sigh left them both at the motion.

Perfect. Fucking perfect.

As they moved together, Hermione's hips meeting his, he wrapped an arm around her back and pulled her up tight against his chest. Hand slipping up to the back of her neck, he pressed his forehead to hers. He felt the closest to her like this, when he couldn't tell where he ended and she began. It was like magic, like everything he never thought he deserved.

He shifted to cant her hips back as he moved in and out of her, putting pressure and friction on the just the right spot until he could feel her tighten around him, coming apart with a cry that sounded sweet to his ears. A few more jerky thrusts and he was following her over the edge, her name on his lips.

Pulling back just enough to see her, he brought one hand up to brush her fringe out of her face, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

"I love you."

Her lips quirked up in a crooked smile as she said, "I know," and then she was kissing him, her hands cupping his face while the world narrowed to just the two of them.

A/N: Thank you to dreamsofdramione for being a rockstar beta!