I watch the flames shrink back to normal after Hermione disappears from my sight. She left early this morning and most probably would not be back until late tonight. She and her team have been working long hours the past month putting together the Controlled Replenishment of Allowed Potions bill that will enable wizards with lycanthropy and vampirism to replenish their supply of counter-symptom potions for free. Today will be an especially long one as they finalize preparations for tomorrow's presentation, debate, and ultimately, vote in the Wizengamot. I have no doubt that she- through determination, intelligence, and sheer force of will- will be able to convince the shriveled-old-geezers in the court to pass the bill. If those don't work there's always the lesson we learned from Dad and Percy on working in the Ministry: the Wizengamot will pass anything if there is a tangible benefit to them or their families. Well, if there's anything of tangible benefit to the Wizengamot and the Ministry, it's being able to keep werewolves and vampires under restraint.

I smile at my pride with Hermione. She really is amazing. How could one woman be so smart and be so beautiful at once is beyond me. Yet she's not only that- she's also kind and thoughtful. But most of all she has the libido worthy of the Weasley name- for which I am eternally grateful for. And though I was absolutely against it (I thought it unnatural to mess with the body like that. I still do.) I am thankful that Hermione decided to have her tubes tied or we'd have twenty little redheads by now. At least.

And just like that my smile is replaced by a frown. As proud as I am of her dedication to her work I cannot help but be annoyed. It's been three weeks since we've have proper sex. Three long weeks. Yes she had wanked me a few times with a promise of two days worth of hot, sweaty sex. But screaming out how amazing her fingers feel around my cock while I cum is not quite the same after almost fifteen years of marriage.

I look out the window and watch the rain drizzle down- another wet gloomy day, no different to how I feel inside the house. With a sigh I turn away from the fireplace and walk towards the kitchen. The cup of tea I've been carrying around all morning has grown cold. Stopping at the table, I feel the teapot to check if it is still hot. It is barely warm to the touch. I pull my wand out and perform a heating charm. As I flourish my wand I stop mid-wave at the memory of two days ago. I am overwhelmed once again by confused emotions and conflicted thoughts.

I have been struggling with myself over the memory of my beautiful daughter naked and spread out on the bathroom counter. I close my eyes as my mind is filled with images of her wondrous, untouched girlhood. The feel of my fingers on her slick outer folds and warm inner walls. I feel my cock grow as I remember her breathing hitch and her skin blush with pleasure.

I open my eyes and stare at the teapot that started it all. I watch the layer of leaves settled at the bottom of my cup while I fall deep in thought. 'I wonder if she thinks about what happened?' I have been watching her intently for signs that she does but haven't seen anything. 'Did she really enjoy it like I thought I saw? Did she come? I don't think so, I would have been able to tell. But if she did, would she like to feel it again?'

Turning my head I look at the clock hanging on a wall overlooking the table. It's just about seven. She should be waking up soon if she hadn't already. 'Maybe I should check up her, see if she's ok.' I set my cup down on the table then walk towards the stairs. I stop at the base of the stairway. 'Should I go to her room? I haven't been in there since she left for her first year of Hogwarts. But so what, I am her father. It's a perfectly normal thing to do, especially since she was hurt. I just want to check on her. See if she's ok. Make sure she's properly applying the anti-itch cream. Yes! That's it, I need to check if she's applying the cream properly.'

I smile as I think, 'Maybe she'll even let me put it on.' A shiver runs up my spine at the thought.

I start up the stairs slowly. Halfway up I realize that I'm moving stealthily. I look down and see my body in a stance I haven't been in for three years. And yet my muscles move in that familiar motion of a stalker ready to pounce on its prey. Pausing for a second I contemplate at how barmy I'm acting. Shaking my head, I straighten up and walk casually the rest of the way up. And yet I keep my steps light and soft.

I reach the top of the stairs and see her closed door. Second door down the hall after the bathroom to the left, first on the right before Hermione and mine's. After a few steps I reach the bathroom door. She's awake. The door was closed when I went down with Hermione earlier. She probably was just in here for the cream. At the thought my heartbeat gets stronger and faster. I feel like my Adam's apple is getting larger inside my throat.

Silently I approach her door, my eyes focused on the doorknob as I get closer and closer. I reach out my hand and grab the knob the moment I was close enough. Before I get the chance to open it I hear a sound that I was not expecting come from inside her room.

"... auuuuuuuuuuhhhhhh..."

I freeze in place, my highly trained muscles automatically stiffen in response to the sound. My senses instinctively heighten to every single sensation. I strain to hear the sound again hoping to confirm what I thought I just heard.

After a few very long seconds it comes again. "... ah... hah...hahh..."

I choke on my Adam's apple. It's real, I did hear it. Immediately my mind goes into overdrive. In my mind's eye I imagine my sweet, lovely, little baby on her bed; hand between legs that are stiffly forming a V, both feet pointing straight out from ankle to toes.

I pull my wand out and accio my Auror's extendable ear that George developed under consultation with me and Harry. Deftly catching the flying ear, I place the listening end into my ear and the hearing end through the gap under the door. Getting up I move slightly to the left then lean forward, bracing both hands on the wall.

As I watch the ear slowly crawl its way into Rose's room, I hear the sounds from inside grow louder in my ear. Clearly coming through the extendable ear is my young daughter's moans. Not of pain like before, but of pleasure. Pure, unmistakeable pleasure.

"... aauuuuunnnnnnnngh"

I instantly get hard at hearing such unbridled exclamation of pleasure from my daughter. With it follows the shame and self-loathing that have been battling the growing sexual desire and need. One hand instinctively reach inside my pyjama-bottoms to right my cock that have hardened in a painfully uncomfortable angle. But after that was done, instead of pulling my hand out I softly grip my fully hardened cock. In the loose space of my pyjama's crotch I slowly rub myself as I lose myself in my daughter's sighs and moans of pleasure. With eyes closed I imagine Rose wantonly spread on her bed- body writhing in overwhelming pleasure, fingers slicked wet with a mixture of anti-itch cream and her own sweet juices- waiting for me on the side of the door. It is all I could do to not barge through the door and show her how much more pleasurable it could be.

Instead I rub myself in time with her moans, imaging that it's my fingers rubbing her wet, swollen pussy. I watch in my mind's eye as my fingers rub and roll her beautiful nub, slide up and down between her slick folds, move in and out of her warm virgin entrance.

Slowly but surely I hear her moans get faster and her breathing louder. I take my free hand and hurriedly push my pyjama-bottoms down to my knees. Gripping my cock tighter I wank faster to catch up with Rose. I want to come when she does. I want to hear her release when I do.

"uh.."

"uuunghh..."

"hah!.. uh... huh... uhhh... "

"haaooooooohhh..."

"DAD?"

To my horror I realize too late that the last moan I heard was my own. In complete panic I fumble for my wand in my pyjama pocket. With a quick wave I wordlessly cast muffliato between me and Rose's room.

"Dad? Are you there?"

With the dread of a man about to receive the kiss from a Dementor I hastily pull my bottoms up and run downstairs to my study. Locking the door behind me I drop to the floor. As I put my head into my hands I ponder what the hell is happening to me.