"Can I buy you a drink?"


Hermione turned when she heard the purring question that sounded more like ‘do you want to shag me rotten?’, preparing to tell the creep to leave her alone. However, she found herself unable to speak when she saw the man standing beside her. Beautiful. Emerald eyes, dark brown hair, handsome face, a flirtatious gleam in his eyes, his full lips curved into an amused smile as she looked him over.


"Like what you see?"


"Merlin," she whispered, her cheeks flushing as she realized she’d just been blatantly ogling him. "I’m sorry."


"Don’t be," he shrugged as he leaned closer, "I like what I see and spent the last twenty minutes imagining what you look like beneath that robe so it’s only fair you get a chance to look. Did you imagine me without my robes?"


"No," she stammered, not at all used to such blatant flirting from handsome wizards.


"Pity," he smiled, "but give it time. You will soon enough."


"Bit arrogant, aren’t you?" she mused with a slight smile, rather taken with his justified confidence.


"Just honest," he winked, "so, about that drink? Or would you prefer to skip the pleasantries and go back to my flat so I can see if I’m right about what’s beneath those robes."


"I don’t make it a habit to go home with strange men I meet in bars."


"I prefer debonair and charming to strange but if that’s kink, I’m more than willing to oblige," he assured her, "I can be whatever you want me to be if it means I get to fuck you until we’re both too exhausted to move and your voice is hoarse from begging me for more, more, more."


"Does that usually work?" she asked as she took a large drink of her ice water, wishing it was a cold shower.


"Ah, you wound me, love. Do you think I make a habit of this? Picking up beautiful witches and shagging them rotten?"


"Don’t you?"


"Admittedly, I used to in my youth. Right fun sport it was, but it got old fast. Only so much shagging a bloke can do, you know? Now, I’m much more choosy. I prefer intellect and beauty over willingness. Besides, I’ve always loved a challenge, Miss. Granger."


"You know me?"


"Oh yes, I definitely know you. Been watching you for weeks, actually. You come in here, get something non-alcoholic and then you read your thick books for an hour before returning to your lonely apartment where you either go right to sleep or fuck yourself silly with those elegant fingers wishing someone would cherish and love you the way you deserve."


"I’m sorry, but I’m not the type for a one night stand."


"Oh, love," he smiled, "it’s going to take me many, many nights to worship you the way you should be, perhaps even a few years."


"Years?" Hermione sputtered, "I don’t even know your name!"


"Adrian," his fingers brushed against her cheek as he purred, "So, what do you say, Hermione? Can I worship you?"


She licked her lips, surprised by the sincerity in his eyes, surprising herself when she whispered, "Yes."


The end.