Author's Note: I know it's been a while since I put anything new up. I've tossed this story idea around for a while and decided it needed to be written. This will be at least a few parts, probably 2-3 chapters, maybe 4. Reviews encourage me to write faster. Warnings: Voyeurism, Exhibitionism, D/s, dress up

A Night Out

Hermione glanced at herself in the mirror, taking in her wild hair and smooth skin. She wore no makeup and hadn't changed since coming home from work.

"Ravishing as always," said the mirror.

"Oh, hush, you," she said irritatedly. What did a mirror's opinion matter? She toyed with a bottle of perfume on her vanity. It was such a boring evening. Well, there were things she could do to entertain herself, if she had a mind. She glanced at the clock on the wall. It wasn't too late yet. She could turn this into an entertaining evening. She called out, her voice sharp, "Draco!"

There was a sound of quickly moving feet and he was there, blonde, and a little breathless. "Yes, Miss?"

A smile twisted at the corner of her mouth. Who would have ever guessed that Draco Malfoy lived to serve her? "I told you this morning that you'd displeased me and wouldn't be receiving my pleasure tonight, but I've reconsidered." She saw a flush of pink in his cheeks in the mirror's reflection. His interest was piqued. "I will give you an opportunity to redeem yourself. We are going to go out. You will dress me up, and we will go to a bar. If you're more appealing than anyone else there this evening, you can share my bed tonight. If you're not…you'll spend the night in the next room, listening to someone else making me moan all evening. Is that understood?" She met his eyes in the mirror.

Draco's face was flushed. He'd ruined breakfast this morning—he could bring her pleasure for hours on end, but he still couldn't fry an egg to satisfy her—and now he was being given a chance for redemption. "Yes, Miss Granger," he said.

"Very well. Begin." Hermione settled herself back in her chair, allowing her limbs to relax so that he might work her over.

His hands started at her shoulders and moved down to her wrists, rubbing her muscles expertly, smoothing in lotion that made her skin shine. He was rewarded with soft sounds of pleasure from her. In short order, Draco painted Hermione's nails, applied her make up, and brushed her hair, setting it wild and free. He went to her wardrobe and began looking through dresses, choosing a green halter top dress with a flared skirt. The day he'd taken Hermione shopping was still a feverishly delicious memory—buying her the sorts of things he'd always wished to see her wear. Dressing her up was a dream.

Hermione rose to her feet languidly as Draco approached with the dress. He laid it out on the bed and she gave an approving nod. He carefully stripped away her shirt and skirt. He lifted her hair out of the way and reached behind her back, he unhooked her strapless bra; the girls deserved to feel silk tonight. He slipped the silk dress over her head, moving behind her to tie the top, pulling the skirt snug around her rounded hips. He licked his lips. He was going to have to be the sexiest man there tonight. He needed her, so badly. He reached forward, slipping his hands beneath the fabric, adjusting her breasts. Breath-taking. He found an intoxicating perfume and sprayed her once.

Draco got down on his knees and found the shoes he wanted under her bed—tall heels, delicate straps. Kneeling at Hermione's feet, he took each foot carefully, rubbing it with lotion before sliding it into the shoe. He kissed her ankles as he looked up at her, breathless. She was gorgeous, divine. Her skin was smooth. It was all he could do not to let himself moan as she reached down and smoothed his hair back.

She stood, nearly stepping on him, and examined herself critically in the mirror. "Well done. I'm going to Apparate outside our favorite place, and go in. Get yourself tidied up and see if you can lure me away from whatever gentleman catches my eye this evening. Don't be long." She turned heel and Disapparated before he could get another word in.

Hermione appeared outside a small but busy bar. She knew on any given night, there'd be any number of men there who wanted to catch her eye. Perhaps even more than her eye. Smiling like the cat cornering the canary, she went in as the clock struck 9.

She hadn't even made it as far as the counter to order her drink when she was accosted by an attractive man, perhaps five years older than herself. He flashed her a winning smile and rested his hand on her hip, thumb brushing her belly rather brazenly. "Care to dance?"

"Love to," she said, her voice low, and sultry. Oh yes, Draco had better hurry, or she might be gone before he ever got here. She allowed herself to be pulled towards the crush of people on the dance floor. The music thrummed. The man held her close, his breath near enough to feel. She circled her hips as they danced, occasionally letting her pelvis brush against the fly of his pants. The hand that started out on his shoulder, fingertips resting on his neck, grew more aggressive, fisting itself in the hair at the nape of his neck. She looked at him challengingly, wondering how he'd respond.

He whispered in her ear, his breath hot and wet. "Want to go somewhere?"

She wrinkled her noise. His mouth was too wet in her ear. Besides, she would have rather seen him meet her challenge. Ducking out wasn't playing the game. "You were doing so well up 'til then," she said, releasing his hair and patting his cheek. She turned to go—her night wasn't anywhere near over yet.

As she turned, he took her other hip in his hand, pulling her against his chest, her ass to his pelvis. "Going so soon?"

She ground her ass against him slowly, making a singularly delicious motion. She could feel his fingers pressing into her flesh, and knew that from behind her, he now had an excellent view down the top of her dress. She tilted her head back and whispered in his ear, "Yes," and inched her foot backwards, clipping his toe painfully with her heel. As he let go she smirked to herself, and made her way to the bar. It wasn't a bad beginning, but the night wasn't over, not by a long shot.

She gave her hair a shake, settling it over her bare back and started for the bar, intent on procuring herself a drink.

She was hardly halfway there when a waiter stopped her, offering her something on the tray. "This is from the gentleman at the end of the bar," he indicated, offering her the drink.

She glanced at the drink. "That's not my type of drink."

"I've been ordered to get you whatever you'd like."

Hermione placed her order and glanced at the man at the end of the bar. Middling height. A little silver in his hair. Smooth straight nose. He met her eyes and raised his glass. By the time the waiter had returned with a drink for her, Hermione had worked her way over to the bar beside him.

"You look a little overdressed for a place like this," she said, indicating his jacket and tie.

"No more than you do."

Hermione smiled, shifting herself in her seat, uncrossing and recrossing her legs. "Oh, there's never enough good excuses for dressing up these days. The world just seems to keep getting more casual. All jeans and t-shirts."

He took her hand and kissed the back of it. "A toast to a little formality?" he asked, raising his glass.

Hermione raised hers as well, and drank. There was something pleasing about the sound of his voice. His whole bearing was firm, confident. He knew what he wanted in life, and in this evening. She did occasionally enjoy letting someone else drive. Perhaps he might be a candidate.