I was defeated when I saw her. She was no longer the bushy-haired, buck-toothed girl that I had taught all those years ago. It seemed longer than it had been since those days but a lot can change with a person in the course of four years. A lot can change between two individuals in the brief flash of an exchanged glance or a warm smile.

I had not expected my heart to skip a beat as she acknowledged my presence. I returned the smile with uncertainty and my eyes shied away. The blush on my cheeks seeped down towards my collarbone. Her smile grew wider as I looked back towards her.

Her smile faltered and her eyes shifted down when a pale arm circled around her waist. I swallowed an involuntary growl and coughed, averting my eyes again. Within a matter of silent seconds I had been defeated by another.

Here I sat, a man by nature, an animal by circumstance and wondered how one so young and inexperienced was defeating me. As males, there is a natural competition to all that we do. Whether it is a game of quidditch, wizard's chess, a duel or the last one of Molly's homemade bread rolls, there is a need to conquer. Even in the most well-mannered man there is silent delight in these victories and wounded pride in being defeated. Is there not a famous expression about that? In every gentleman waits a wolf, ready to pounce.

However, being defeated is not always an overall loss. I do not mean that one man's loss is another man's gain (even though it often is). Instead, I am saying that one man's loss may lead to his eventual gain if he plays his cards right. After all, in every war that has been won, there have been battles within that were lost.

I considered my strengths against his. I had the patience that he so lacked. His manners were fine…mine were impeccable. I had a generation's worth more knowledge and experience- things I noted she craved. Age was on his side along with untarnished skin but I had the lean muscles where he was stocky. Finances were the only thing we were really "equal" in. Granted, I had more saved but with a steady job, he would pass me in time.

There was one thing, however, that he did not have and that I had grown accustomed to. Animal instincts. How do I know it will work?

Just as males have that need for victory, or rather, dominance- females have a need to be ravished. In my experience, the more silent the prey, the more passion and aggression she seeks from her predator.

Who am I to deny the hand that I was dealt?

I worked slowly and diligently, waiting for her to invite me into her world. If I waited at her doors long enough, she would eventually open them for me. Hermione, ever the saint. I do not know when exactly the "switch" was made but eventually I was allowed to cast a heated stare that sent her blush from her cheeks to her collarbone. It was her turn to avert her eyes. It is funny how far a girl will let you by exercising manners and respect.

It did not take long for me to slink and sidle my way into her warmest affections. Sometimes I think I would have made a fine Slytherin. Somewhere in the back of my mind I could tell she was very aware of my intentions yet she did not seem to mind. I knew Hermione was no fool but I was surprised. She did not only allow me permission but also stripped my walls bare and guided my teasing to the point of lubricating us both.

The fact that she was practically begging for it made it so much harder to remain in control. She never struggled in my web. I believe it was her aim to be caught… to be defeated.

It was not long before every kiss, lick, suck, scratch and bite threw her into submission. Yet in my victory all I had to do was look into those brown eyes and I knew that I was forever defeated. Every disagreement, every battle, whether tomorrow or ten years down the road, she had already won. She knew I would submit to anything as long as she submitted to me.

I was defeated.