Ten years of quashing all thoughts of him, burying herself in work, waking herself from her mocking idealistic dreams- almost nightly at first. Ten years of denial were forgotten when she had seen him again from across the hall. Her heart had almost flown from her chest. She had barely noticed the others at the reunion. She had managed to stay away for nearly an hour, while skirting conversations and sipping her spritzer slowly. Finally though, she caved and allowed herself to approach him.

"Ms Granger." He acknowledged her, with a slight nod of his head.

"Professor." She replied. He had waited for her to say more, but instead she moved to join him in leaning against the wall, her shoulder brushing his arm. They had never had much use for words. Before he healed he had been unable to speak without pain anyway, and as all hands were needed after the battle, she had become his nurse for a time. So many things had been left unsaid. A silent air of familiarity unfelt for a decade settled over them. Slowly, tentatively she had leaned in further, and breathed out into his ear a sentence that had burned in her mind over the years. She walked away, steeling herself not to look back to gauge his reaction.

And now she stood in her glittering, simple black dress, standing in the middle of her guest-allocated bedroom, waiting.

With almost silent footfalls, suddenly he was there. She knew he was standing behind her, in the door frame. She had always been so hyper-aware of his presence. All of her blood seemed to be pounding in her ears, her chest, her groin. Her breaths were shallow, her nerves were shooting stars down to her fingers, she felt lightheaded, and almost mad in her fear and sordid arousal.

She heard the door click shut, then the quiet grind of the metal bolt being slid across. His muttered set of wards secured and soundproofed the room with a flicker of blue tinted light. He took a single step towards her, and stopped.

What was he thinking? She wondered nervously. His breathing was even and deep. A long minute passed, she closed her eyes and tried to steady her nerves. A quiet slither made her breath catch and her eyes open. A small metallic noise was followed by the sound of leather running through cloth. She turned her head, enough to glimpse at him. He was staring at her, and let his belt drop from his hands.

Now he had her caught in his stare, she couldn't look away. The reality of his presence made her cheeks flush almost painfully in embarrassment. She really had whispered those secret needs to him among the throng of people in the great hall, he had actually followed her. His mouth twitched at her blush. With one hand, he undid a few of the stifling buttons on his shirt. Unsure of what to do, she clenched the hem of her dress, and started to lift it.

"Leave it." He breathed like a warning.

Immediately her hands opened, and she let them hang loose by her sides. His eyes were dark, his face in shadow, but she couldn't look away. Now he was here, alone with her, she could look without hiding her glances from others. She drank in the heady freedom of it. He moved towards her, in front of her, and stopped.

"You want this to happen?" he asked roughly.

She couldn't answer, her throat would only spasm. He waited, watching her struggle, then calmly reached out for the nape of her neck where he grabbed a fistful of her hair. She gasped and swallowed as the sensation of his grip fired through her body, she felt her nipples start to harden. The unexpected contact and control cleared her mind and her answer started to reverberate in her head like an echoed scream.

"Do. You. Want. Me?" He demanded.

She felt herself becoming aroused further, her pulse dropped to between her legs and a small noise of need escaped her. He kept his gaze steady as she swallowed.

"Yes." She whispered

He closed his eyes, and exhaled slowly. When he opened them the look he gave her was almost predatory. He released her hair and slid his hand down her back. She sighed out her desire in a ragged breath at his touch. He skimmed over her bottom and came to rest at her thigh, he collected the hem of her dress in his hand, inching it up to reveal her plain-topped stockings. In one fluid movement he lifted her dress up and over her head, taking a step back as he did so. She yelped in surprise and covered her bare breasts with her hands.

"You are beautiful," he told her. "Beautiful," he repeated. "Put your hands down."

He licked his lips and felt himself start to harden as she complied. To be wanted, desired, was almost like the hit of a drug. To see her willingly follow his commands- to see her body reacting to him- was almost too much- he took a moment to take in his surroundings, to check this was reality, and not another of his teasing, torturous dreams.

But there she was, watching him with anticipation.

He wasted no more time wondering at the turn of events, and moved towards her. His hands moved to her face, she seemed delicate to him. He leaned down to her neck and nuzzled his nose to her, breathing in her scent. Slowly he ran his lips up her neck, over her jaw and hovered over her mouth.

"Please, yes…" she gasped, and tried to lean into him, to find his lips.

At her eagerness he gave in, and enveloped her mouth with his. He ran his tongue over her bottom lip and caught it in a bite, she opened her mouth and gasped again at the wonderful, alien sensation and he took the moment to enter her mouth with his tongue, she tasted sweet, and she responded with vigour he had not expected, He ate at her and she moaned with pleasure…