Chapter III: The First "Date"

On the day that Hermione was expecting her visit from Ernand, the careful and well-planned teen took her time getting "ready". Since she would no doubt lose her innocence, she took a nice, long, hot soaking bath with candles lit and soft music playing. She needed to relax.

She wasn't quite sure what to wear, and so opted for rather nice yet conservative clothes. No sense looking expectant. But surprise took her when the doorbell rang just after 5pm. She went to answer, knowing that the aurors must have let the person through. Perhaps it was the postman, with a package from her parents. She had received one the week before, full of goodies from their "trip".

She was even more surprised to find Ernand on the other side of the door, dressed in, black pants and a silver shirt, with a bouquet of tasteful, romantic flowers for her. As she opened the door, she looked at him in question. "How did…"

He smirked in a friendly way. "I cast a simple illusion charm. They can't see either one of us right now. As far as they know, you are still in the house. Perhaps studying well into the late hours of the night."

She took the flowers with a "thanks" and went to put them in a vase. Minutes later she found him in the dining room, waiting as she placed the vase on the table. "They're quite lovely."

He smirked again. Blast it! She thought.

"I supposed you are wondering as to the state of my apparel." He waited as she nodded. "Well, seeing as this is our first…meeting…I thought it fitting to take you out first. Dinner, and then a perhaps some dancing if you like." He then named a rather exclusive restaurant in London. She knew of it, having been there with her parents and some colleagues of theirs.

"But I am not…"

"No fear. You can make use of the dress your parents bought for you. They were planning to take you to the one of see the Royal Ballet this summer, no?"

She nodded. "We always go, every year without fail. Wait, how did you know they got me a dress? I didn't even know that!"

"I know all there is to know about you. It's in their closet, it was going to be a surprise."

She excused herself, and ran upstairs to her parents bedroom. Sure enough, she found a tasteful, elegant cocktail dress held on a hanger. It was crimson red with webbing around the bodice area, and fell just a few inches above her knees. She put it on and went to her room to put on a bit of make-up and put up her hair in an elegant twist that was kept in a red and white rhinestone clip. Ernand smiled in approval as she went downstairs to meet him. He took her hand and apparated them away.

When they arrived outside the door at the restaurant, Hermione took him aside. "What if…what if someone recognizes me? I mean, there's no telling who from the Order or those serving…"

He cut her off. "Already thought of it, my dear. I cast a rather complex spell, not one any normal wizard or witch is capable of. Those who would be your enemy will only see a stranger at my side, and will not hear me say your true name. Those who are on the side of the light and wish you no true harm will see you as you are."

Hermione took in the information. This man was truly an unearthly being. "But what if they hear you say my name? Surely there are not many with such an unusual…"

"Giselle."

"I beg your pardon?"

"They will hear me say the name Giselle." He chuckled lightly. "Is that not the ballet you would have seen with your parents this summer?"

Hermione nodded.

"While we are together I can protect you by any means necessary. Now, let's go in to eat. I'm ravenous."

Hermione sent him a friendly glare. Ravenous indeed!

As the host seated them in an ideal spot, he informed them that their server would be Vierto who would be by momentarily to take their drink order. True to his word, it was less than 60 seconds before a young, foreign man with a South American accent came to ask if they had any immediate requests.

Ernand had already glanced at the wine menu and ordered a bottle to which Vierto replied "An excellent choice, sir." He hurried off, but not before promising that someone would be by shortly with some water.

Hermione had her nose in her menu when a female came to their table, dressed as a crisp "busperson" uniform, with a carafe of water. Hermione kept reading her menu as the woman poured their glasses. As she turned her head up to say thanks, the site before her took her by surprise.

"Lavender?"

The blonde stared back at her in disbelief. "Hermione? What are you doing here?"

"I…I…" Hermione was at a loss of words, but she was "saved" when Ernand cut her off. He looked up at Lavender and gave a little cough. "Excuse me, but I do not believe that you are being paid to make conversation with the patrons of this fine establishment. That includes my date."

Lavender's face turned deep red. "No, sir…I shall return shortly with your wine selection." And she hurried off, nearly crashing into a woman returning from the ladies room.

Hermione glared at Ernand. "That was rather rude!"

"True, but you enjoyed it, did you not?"

Hermione brought her menu back up, but not before he saw her smirk. Ernand decided to change the conversation to the entrée selections, and they were deep in conversation about their selections when Lavender returned with their wine. She opened the bottle, poured two glasses, and left quite eagerly. But not before taking a good, long look at Ernand. When she was out of earshot, Hermione couldn't resist. "You know, we should at least give her a good tip."

The dinner was lovely, and before they were ready to leave Ernand had made sure Lavender saw him caress Hermione's hands and give her a lingering kiss on her cheek, just above her jaw. Truth be told, all thoughts of Lavender left Hermione when she felt his kiss as it made her feel rather warm and anticipating their first "real" kiss.

They later stopped at a night club, the bouncers not seeming to see the couple enter without "inspection" or paying a door fee, and they had another drink before dancing a few rounds then apparating to their next destination.

But it was not to the Granger house, which Hermione expected. Instead it was to the inside of a rather luxurious room. Windows surrounded them, but instead of just holding a specific view, each window held different sites around the world. One seemed to be from the moon, and as Hermione gazed out she could see Europe as it faced her in the night. She was awestruck.

"This…this is where you take us? Your chosen ones?" Surprisingly, she felt no jealousy toward the other women of his past.

Ernand shook his head and went to wrap his arms around her small frame. "Only two other before you. They were also exceptional. One has her own place in history, as you will someday hold yours. The other, unfortunately, will always remain unknown despite the mark she left in her world."

Hermione turned to face him. "Who?" She asked, not knowing if he would, or could, tell her.

He smiled warmly. "Queen Elizabeth the first."

"But I thought…"

"Do not always believe what you read. Although I do know that many suspected she had a lover in her mid years. She did. He was her completion. Sadly, he died before her time was up. But like Albus, he became a Ghoraith."

"A what?"

"A Ghoraith. A person who is somewhat a Wraith, somewhat a ghost. They live on to serve their mate, to watch over them, to serve other needs."

"Oh!" Was all Hermione could reply as she guessed what he meant.

"Enough of this chatter." He said as he cupped her face and brought his lips upon her own. "Now, shall we begin?"

Hermione nodded, although her knees felt so weak suddenly that she thought she might collapse. But she was in his arms, he wouldn't drop her. She tilted her head again for another kiss. He obliged by bringing his mouth down upon hers in a fiery kiss.

The coat she had worn after leaving the club pooled to the ground. She helped him out of his jacket. She could feel the softness of his dress shirt against her as he wrapped his arms around her tightly. His lips left hers and she let out a groan at the loss, but it soon turned into a moan as his lips found attention to her cheek with soft, lingering kisses. Then he went for her neck as her arms found their way to his chest. It was strong. He was not made of muscle like some men preferred to build, rather he was somewhat thin and lithe. His body molded to hers easily.

His hands were now moving up her back and she felt the zip of her dress being pulled down. It soon joined her coat on the floor. Somewhat shaking she pulled back a bit to undo the buttons of his own shirt as he gazed down upon her body.

"You're beautiful." He murmured noticing the baby blue lace bra and panties she wore.

As she tentatively opened his shirt she ran her hands across his smooth chest. He was nearly hairless, which she rather preferred. He was more than just an older man, but it soothed her to feel the softness as if he was closer to her own age.

His hands effortlessly unhooked the bra, and eased the offending item off. While he appreciated the look and need of such a device, he preferred the times when women wore their breasts freely beneath their clothes. And they were never misleading, although such efforts would never be needed by Hermione. Her breasts weren't overly big nor small, and were just the size to fit in his hands.

Ernand ran his fingers lightly over it, causing her to gasp. He leaned down to taste one, noting that her skin tasted as good as she smelled. Hermione's head fell back as she felt new sensations flow through her body. She had no idea the pleasure the act would bring, and she knew she was in for quite a ride.

Feeling her relax, Ernand scooped Hermione into his arms, bringing her over to a magically appearing bed. Dark, crimson bedcovers lay over black sheets softer than silk. Hermione felt her weight sink slightly onto the bed as Ernand finished taking off his own shirt then joined her, laying by her side as he continued to explore her.

At that same moment Ron Weasley woke up from a very frustrating dream. His dream self was with Hermione, and she had been laying down on a bed with only her knickers on. As he leaned down to her, he saw hair not of his own fall over his eyes. Black hair. Not red hair. He scowled. Had he dreamed that he was Victor Krum about to make love to Hermione?

Frustrated at his own dream yet oddly turned on by it, the lonesome boy took hold of his manhood and thought of his dream again. This time imagining himself as the man making love to Hermione.

To be continued…

Sorry to cut it off there, but it just made sense. More of the night will be revealed soon!

Many thanks again to my readers and wonderful reviews.