Chapter 6: Do You Understand?
"You did what?" Ron blurted out, along with a spray of partially chewed bits of food that went flying across the table. Luckily, no one was sitting directly across from him, so the damage was minimal.
"I went to McGonagall about dropping Divination and picking up Ancient Runes," Harry repeated himself with a small smirk at Hermione's huff; he could practically hear her saying "Professor McGonagall, Harry."
Ron gaped at him for a few moments before turning a sharp glare to Hermione.
"This is all your fault," he snapped at her. "Haven't been dating a week and you're changing him."
"Cut it out, Ron," Harry shot at his friend. "Hermione didn't do anything. I decided this on my own."
"Why did you decide that, Harry?" Hermione asked him. "Not that I don't think it's a great idea. Just… why?"
Not as if I can actually say the real reason here, he thought. Not with Ron sitting with us. So, partial truth it is.
He rested his right elbow on the table next to his plate and raised one finger. "First year: Fluffy. Norbert. Quirrelmort." A second finger joined the first. "Second year: Flophart. Riddle. Basilisk." A third finger. "This year: Black. Dementors…"
When he trailed off, Ron and Hermione exchanged a look.
"Basically," he continued, "every year I've been here something or someone has tried to kill me, erase my memory or kill me, or devour my soul... and kill me." He shrugged. "I've been lucky to survive each of those instances so far. I can't count on luck forever, though. I need to start taking things more seriously, take some control of my education and learn something useful."
Hermione shifted slightly on the bench next to him and he knew she'd caught the slight emphasis he'd put on the word 'control'.
"I'm already working on learning how to deal with the Dementors, but I could stand to do better."
His friend and his girlfriend were both silent for a few minutes, digesting that, rather sobering news.
Finally, Hermione found her voice first. "Why Ancient Runes?" she asked. "Why not Arithmancy, or both?"
Harry made a disgusted face. "I'd have a lot to catch up on just with Ancient Runes," he explained. "From what I saw when I talked to the Professor, Arithmancy is some advanced math and I've just never had a head for numbers. I'd never be able to catch up, I doubt I'd be doing well even if I'd been in the class from the beginning, honestly. And Runes has more practical uses. It's good for wards and is used in enchanting and a bunch of other things. I figured that was a little better for me than Arithmancy which gets into spell crafting toward NEWT level. With my luck I'd end up creating a spell that'd turn my head 'round backwards."
Ron barked out a laugh at that and Hermione nodded along thoughtfully.
"So, what did the Professor say?" she asked.
Harry shrugged. "She said 'no'."
"What?!"
Her immediate outrage shifted to confusion when Harry started to laugh. "Well, she said 'no' with a few conditions," he amended, grinning when Hermione actually growled at him.
"Such as?" she asked.
"Well, she said that since my class performance hasn't exactly been the best, then she's going to give me two weeks to show a full grade improvement in my handed in assignments across the board. If I can pull that off then I can ask Professor Babbling if she'll let me join the class so late in the year. On top of improving all of my other classes, I'll need to study up on Ancient Runes in order to try to catch up to the rest of the class, at least as much as possible. Another reason not to take Arithmancy on top of everything else I'll have on my plate."
"Blimey," Ron breathed out, wide eyed. "That's barmy to even try, Mate. No way could anyone pull that off, especially with Snape against you."
"Ronald, it's Professor Snape," Hermione corrected him, but Ron simply ignored her.
"I'm not so sure it's barmy," Harry disagreed. "It's not gonna be easy, but I need to do more than I have been, Ron. I seriously can't just rely on being lucky anymore. My luck is eventually going to run out."
With that said, Harry pushed his mostly full plate away, stood, and walked from the Hall, leaving a sputtering redhead and a worried girlfriend behind.
#####
Harry told himself that he wasn't sitting in a quiet, back corner of the Library because he was hiding. The fact that Ron would hardly ever voluntarily enter a Library had nothing to do with his location. It was two hours after he'd walked out of lunch in the Great Hall and he'd spent most of that time sitting right where he was, reviewing the material from the first year textbooks. He did agree to pull up his grades, and he did need to put in some work to do it. He knew he was smarter than most people thought, but he also knew that bad habits developed from always being afraid of performing better than Dudley in school meant that he'd long since stopped trying.
He used to be a pretty good student, he felt, but it wasn't going to be easy pulling himself back up to that level. It was going to be bloody hard as hell pulling himself up to the level of being someone who might have a hope of actually deserving the trust he'd been shown earlier that day by the beautiful girl in his life. He flushed at the memory of what he'd done to his bushy haired best friend and girlfriend, a title he was still getting used to the idea of her holding, much less the fact that she actually wanted it.
He couldn't get over the experience and was of several minds on it. First of all, he could admit to a thrilling sensation, a feeling of… of power, almost, when Hermione would so willingly respond to a command he'd given her. When he'd told her to take off her robes and she hadn't even hesitated to obey his order, he'd briefly wondered how she'd respond if he kept going, having her remove more of what she'd been wearing beneath the robes.
He didn't know what possessed him to touch her the way he did, basically inspecting almost every inch of her body through her clothes, but the way she'd responded… he wasn't sure if it was just because she was so turned on or a result of the submissive side of her that he was beginning to see more clearly. When he'd gently admonished her for her tone when she spoke to him after he'd asked how she was feeling...she'd looked almost scared but… not scared of him. He couldn't quite place the stark emotion he'd seen on her face as she'd almost desperately apologized for her mistake and that had excited him just as much as anything else they'd done.
He'd been surprised she hadn't felt how hard he was under her as he'd held her on his lap. Or if she had, she hadn't made any indication that she'd noticed. He was starting to understand the draw of the Dominant, the sense of power you had over the person willingly submitting them self to be controlled. He considered how he'd felt throughout their time that day and every memory of her obeying his orders, simple as they were, or the pure joy in her expression when he explained why he wanted to call her 'Mine', and he could only come to one conclusion.
Yeah, he thought. That feeling could definitely be habit forming.
He frowned, turning a page in the book he was, ostensibly reading, though much of his attention was elsewhere. How was he supposed to handle things going forward? Eventually… eventually they would get into activities that were certainly more sexual than what he'd done to her so far but… she was his girlfriend. Did she want to do these things with him outside of this dynamic she wanted to build? Or only during it? As her boyfriend, he'd never push her to do something she maybe wasn't ready for, he was certain he'd follow her lead when it came to that.
But this situation was exactly the opposite. She wanted her boundaries pushed. She wanted to be ordered and controlled. Could he really do that? Would she feel the same about him if he'd ordered her to… oh, something like give him a blow job, or strip naked for him? She seemed determined to keep the two parts of their lives separate from each other, but despite the roles they were set into they were still the same people. Could they be separate for any length of time? Could things outside the dynamic not affect things within it, and vice versa?
He shook his head, resisting the urge to growl in frustration and slammed his book shut, drawing a reproachful look from the ever present Madam Pince. Giving his studies up as a bad job for now, he propped his elbows on the table and dropped his head into his hands.
There were simply too many questions, and too much that the two of them still needed to discuss before he could truly feel comfortable with where they were, and where they were going. But she said she needed this, and wanted to try it out, so he would do that. He would do whatever he could to help her, even if he wasn't sure or wasn't entirely comfortable.
"There you are!"
Harry spun in his seat, his elbow catching the book he'd put down before and sending it crashing to the floor.
Somewhere in the stacks a voice hissed a shushing sound and Harry cringed back in his seat.
By the time he picked up the book Hermione had taken a seat next to him, barely containing her giggling behind one hand.
"What are you cackling about?" he hissed, poking her side several times with his fingers which set her squirming in her seat to avoid him.
"I just… big bad Potter, faces Dark Lords and giant snakes, but the school Librarian has you scared," she whispered, her eyes dancing gleefully at him and he let out a snort.
"Voldemort and the Basilisk were easy, Madam Pince is terrifying!" he whispered loudly and that sent her into another paroxysm of nearly silent giggling, her face slowly turning a darker and darker shade of red as she struggled to stay as quiet as possible.
By the time they got ahold of themselves Harry was feeling lighter than he had in a long while. The simple joy of just laughing with her seemed to wipe the worries from his mind and he just wanted to hold onto that feeling for as long as he could before returning to the stress and frustration of working out what exactly was going on with them.
"I've been looking for you," she said, leaning against his side from her chair next to him, her head resting on his shoulder and he frowned, detecting a peculiar note in her voice. Something that told him she was upset, but he couldn't think of why that might be.
"I've been here," he offered. "Why were you looking for me?"
"Well, when you left I wanted to make sure you were all right. And I wanted to offer to help you with your classes." She looked at the dozen or so books that he had scattered across the table in front of him. "Looks like you've gotten started, at least," she added, apparently trying to read all of the titles without lifting her head from the very comfortable position she'd found on her boyfriend's shoulder.
"I decided to read back over the first year material, refresh my mind on the theory since that's where I have the most trouble. I seem to remember you telling me that once," he explained.
"Yes, you've always been a very intuitive and hands on sort of learner. You may not understand why a spell works the way it does but if you know how to do it, there's not much to stop you. With some things. Unfortunately, things like Transfiguration and Potions really need an understanding of why things work the way they do in order to really get the most out of the magic, and that's where you run into trouble."
"So understanding the theory better will help improve my practical spell casting?"
"That's exactly right," she said, beaming up at him and she tilted her head back to press a kiss to his neck. "Give me a few minutes to relax here and I'll help you set up a study schedule and we'll work out what you need to-"
"No, Hermione," he cut in, and she jerked away from him slightly in surprise. "I don't want you doing all that. You've got plenty to be worrying about with your own classes without worrying about mine on top of it. I can handle this. I… I think I need to prove to myself that I can do this without any help."
"Oh."
He turned to his girlfriend who was looking despondently at the table in front of her, her face showing that she was upset and he was pretty sure it was his fault.
"Hey, if I just keep leaning on you for help, doesn't that mean that I'm not actually improving on my own? I want… I want to prove that I can actually do this. I'm happy for us to still study together and do our classwork together but… I think I need to put the effort in myself. Does that make sense?"
She looked thoughtful for a bit before her face softened, losing some of the distraught edge it'd held before and she nodded.
"Yes, it does, Harry," she muttered giving him a small smile. Harry couldn't help but notice, however, that she still seemed upset about something and he suddenly found himself in a quandary that he couldn't quite see a way out of. As her boyfriend, as her friend, should he push her on whatever was bothering her? Would she appreciate his interest, or be annoyed that he was prying?
Immediately his mind flashed to the idea of simply ordering her to tell him what was wrong, but he instantly quashed that idea as ruthlessly as he could. He was not her Dom, here. He didn't control her, here. And, damn, what did it say about him that the first instance where he wanted to know something one of his first thoughts was to simply demand the answer from her, as if he had a right to it?
Hermione leaned in and kissed his cheek, drawing him enough from his thoughts for him to organize his books and return to the Charms text that he'd been reading before while she dug through her bag and pulled out her Arithmancy work that was due next week.
One cold thought echoed in his mind as the settled in to work. It seemed that already his reactions were changing, shifting to accommodate a new way of thinking, of viewing Hermione as a thing that belonged to him and not as a person with her own agency and free will. It'd only been one day of trying to treat her as she said she wanted to be treated, by him.
But… what if doing this for her changed him? What if he didn't like who he was going to become the longer this continued? What if he lost her because of it?
#####
"So there were ginger cat hairs in the room!" Hermione practically screamed in a small unused classroom on the seventh floor, not far from the entrance to Gryffindor Tower. Harry was sitting behind the Professor's desk at the front of the room while she paced back and forth in front of it, her face flushed, arms flailing wildly on occasion as she verbally tore stripes off of the missing red headed wizard that was their closest other friend.
"Crookshanks has been in there plenty of times before. I had him there on Christmas Day when he did try to get at Scabbers. Just because there were ginger colored cat hairs doesn't mean that Crookshanks did anything, right? Right!"
She didn't even wait to see if Harry would respond, simply carried on with her tirade.
The last several days had been… well, wonderful wasn't really the best word, but they'd certainly been good in some areas. The day of and the day after their meeting to discuss their new arrangement Hermione had noticed that she'd felt very different. She'd felt energized, relaxed. She felt as if all her worries and concerns weren't nearly as daunting and difficult as they had been the day before.
She thought she might be able to chalk part of it up to a mind blowing orgasm, but at the same time she was fully able to admit that she truly did have a submissive side to her, and that side responded very powerfully whenever Harry become forceful or demanding. From Saturday to Sunday that feeling of euphoria had carried her.
Then Monday had come around, and they'd gone back to classes. The first day wasn't too bad. She'd felt exhausted by the time she went to bed at just past two in the morning after almost having to force Harry to stop waiting with her and go get some sleep of his own. Tuesday, she'd woken bleary eyed and with a mild headache. She'd been slightly irritable, but nothing too bad, luckily. Wednesday had been a little worse. Then there was today. Thursday February 3rd.
The day had gone as the rest had. She felt more worn down. She was more tired from her lack of sleep and her longer than normal days caused by her trips through time to attend her classes and Harry had been watching her with increasing worry. She'd ploughed through a significant portion of her assignments that evening when Harry had gone to attend his Patronus lessons with Professor Lupin and that had at least left her feeling accomplished.
Until Harry got back.
Not that that was a problem. No, the problem was what he held in his hands. The Firebolt. The broom she'd gotten confiscated in her worry for him. Everyone else had been thrilled and he was swarmed nearly the minute he came into the Tower with Neville beside him. She did her best to ignore the hubbub as everyone fawned over the broomstick and Ron made more than a few sidelong comments about there having been nothing wrong with it.
Well, there very well could have been, she'd thought at the time, and had even said so, attempting to ignore the stabbing pain that shot through her chest over the memory of the entire fiasco and she could only hope that with the damn thing returned it could finally be put to rest.
Ron had run upstairs to put the broom away for Harry and just minutes later had come storming back down, screaming at her in the middle of the Common Room that his rat was gone and he'd found ginger cat hairs in the dorm. According to Ronald Bloody Weasley, this was sufficient evidence to accuse her familiar of eating his useless pet.
"Oooohhh…" she groaned. "There are other cats around this school, and the owls in the owlery. Any one of them could easily have eaten a rat. Why'd he even have that disgusting thing here anyway? Our school letter said students could bring a cat, or an owl, or a toad. Never once was a rat mentioned as an acceptable pet to bring to school!"
She finally stopped, panting slightly and feeling just a bit lighter before she turned to find her boyfriend still sitting at the desk, hunched over the map. It didn't appear as if he was paying any attention to her whatsoever and she frowned at that. She didn't think he had to fawn attention over her or anything like that, but she did feel it wasn't unreasonable to expect a bit of attention and understanding over a situation like this.
"Harry?" she asked, a bit sharply and he jerked in his seat, looking up at her in surprise. "Are you even listening to me?" she asked, her arms crossed over her breasts as she leveled her second best glare at him. Her best glare was reserved for a certain redhead she refused to think of any longer!
"Ummm… not really, at the moment," he admitted, almost sheepishly, one hand coming up to rub at the back of his neck in an unconscious gesture she'd seen him use dozens of times before. "I was a little distracted here but… I think you'll like why." His attention moved back to the map.
Deciding to give him the benefit of the doubt since, really, it wasn't Harry that she was upset with, she let her arms drop to her sides and resumed her pacing, grumbling irritably under her breath for several minutes.
"Okay," Harry said, leaning back in the seat after he'd cleared and folded up the map. "We're gone, it's…" he glanced at his watch, "fifteen minutes until curfew. We need to get back to the Tower and you need to get a change of clothes."
Hermione stumbled to a halt, her anger melting away into a sudden confusion at the seemingly random non-sequitur.
"What?" she blurted out.
He stood and moved around the desk, eyeing her for a few moments before nodding his head.
"Mine," he said. "Right now I'm not asking you anything. You're tired, you're stressed, and you're upset and frustrated. You've got dark circles under your eyes that I can see from here. So here's what you're going to do. You're going to forget about Ron Weasley and his problems. You're going to forget about classes. You're not going to worry about assignments. Right now you have only one thing to worry about or concern yourself with, and that is doing exactly what I tell you to do. Do you understand?"
Hermione stared at him blankly for several moments, her surprise robbing her momentarily of the ability to respond as she attempted to catch up to the sudden and dramatic shift in direction that Harry had just taken.
A moment later he sighed in apparent disappointment and pushed off of the desk he'd been leaning against before he walked up to her until they were barely a few inches apart. In that moment, amazingly enough, Harry appeared to loom over her, despite the fact that he was only just barely an inch taller than she was. She felt a sudden sense of trepidation at the hard look in his eyes and the firm set of his jaw.
"I said, 'Do you understand?'" he asked, his voice low and commanding and for another few seconds her mouth worked silently as she attempted to respond. He suddenly leaned even closer to her, his cheek sliding across hers until his lips were by her ear and she let out a startled squeak as he moved.
"The words you're looking for, Mine, are 'Yes, Sir,'" he whispered, his breath brushing hot across the shell of her ear, sending a tingling shiver down her spine.
"Y-yes, Sir," she stammered.
"Good," he said, brightly, as he pulled back to smile at her. Suddenly turning on his heel he started to walk away and she found herself scrambling to keep up with him. "When we get to the Tower go pack a bag and do it quickly. All you really need to bring with you is your Time Turner and whatever clothes you normally sleep in. Do you understand, Mine?"
"Yes, Sir."
What in the hell was happening? She couldn't understand how this had so quickly shifted from her pissed off and ranting about… what's-his-name, to suddenly she was tottering along, obediently following behind him to go off and do who knew what. But really… wasn't this exactly what she wanted? To not have to make decisions? To have a moment where the choices were taken from her and she had nothing to do but simply follow orders?
Before she realized where they were, they were passing through the portrait hole into the lightly populated Common Room and Harry glanced at his watch before he turned to her. "You have five minutes, Mine," he told her. "Better hurry."
Eyes wide, she only nodded and hurried off to do as she'd been told. It wasn't until she reached the door leading into her dorm that she suddenly stopped as a thought clicked into place in her head. He was doing that on purpose! The haste, the constant use of that commanding tone and calling her, Mine. He threw her off balance with the sudden shift in circumstance and he was keeping her off balance by not giving her time to think and collect herself.
She pushed open the door and hurried over to her trunk, pulling out a clean set of knickers and one of the tight plain t-shirts she typically wore to bed, stuffing them into a small knapsack. Really, did she care that that's what he was doing? Or that she'd figured it out? She glanced at her watch, a broad grin spreading across her lips. Nope. She didn't care in the slightest, and she had two minutes left to get back downstairs.
She hurried out of the dorm, reaching the bottom of the stairs just as Harry stepped off the last step from the staircase leading up to the Boy's Dorms, his book bag slung over one shoulder. Without pause he approached and pulled her into a hug in order to whisper in her ear, "ready?"
"Yes, Sir," she whispered back and he pulled back to take her hand and lead her toward the exit. Slipping out of the Tower was ridiculously simple as, just as they reached the portrait, it opened, letting the Weasley twins into the room.
"Little late to be heading out, isn't it, Harrykins?" one of them said, a smirk on his lips as the two of them moved to pass by the two redheads.
"No worries, boys. We'll be back by curfew," Harry said before giving them a jaunty sort of wave as he led her out of the Tower. Once in the corridor he pulled his father's cloak from his pocket and threw it over them, pulling her tight against him to make sure the cloak would completely cover them both.
They moved fairly quickly through the castle and in seemingly no time at all they were approaching the door to their classroom. To her surprise, however, Harry didn't direct them into the room. Instead he led her to an alcove down the hall and gently pushed her into it, her back pressed against the wall as he stood so close that she could feel the warmth radiating off of his body.
"How would you take someone back in time with you with the Time Turner?" he suddenly asked and she blinked, pulling herself from her slightly dazed state to peer intently up into his eyes.
"What do you mean?" she asked and he shook his head in exasperation.
"I know you can, Mine. Don't worry I'll explain how I know, later. Right now I just want to know how and how you determine how many hours back you go."
Well, she reasoned, she had already told him about the Turner, explaining how it worked wasn't any more of a problem.
"I'd have to loop the chain over both our necks, it should stretch actually to accommodate and then each single turn of the hourglass equates to one full hour."
He nodded, considering that for a moment.
"All right. I need you to trust me, please, Mine. You need to take us back eight hours."
Hermione paused again, and this time Harry didn't push or admonish her for her hesitance. It seemed ridiculous. Eight hours? They could get into so much trouble for something like that. Not only with the school but with the Department of Mysteries, and that was if they didn't do something stupid that ended up wiping them from existence. Messing around with time was dangerous and that was why she had been given very strict rules on what she could do. Rules she'd already broken once in order to apologize to Harry about the Firebolt.
She knew Harry Potter, however. He didn't make idle requests. He didn't make thoughtless decisions. Yes, he frequently leaped into danger without thinking, but this… this all spoke of planning and consideration. This wasn't something he'd considered or thought up on the fly so what exactly was going on?
In the end, she knew there really was only one decision to make, so she pulled the chain from beneath her robes, looped it over Harry's neck as well, and lifted the hourglass, carefully counting back eight turns before she looked up into his eyes, and let go.
The dark alcove where they stood dissolved around them. Hermione had the sensation that she was flying very fast, backward as a blur of colors and shapes rushed past her, her ears were pounding and she simply held tight to Harry's solid presence waiting for it to stop—
And then she felt solid ground beneath her feet, and everything came into focus again —
"Ugh," she groaned, pulling the chain from around Harry's neck as she tucked the Time Turner back under her robes. "I will never get used to that, no matter how many times I do it."
"Come on," Harry muttered, pulling her from the alcove and directing her back to their classroom where he pushed open the door and ushered her inside. Once within the room he whipped the cloak off of them and let the door swing silently shut, quickly casting the locking spell she'd used on Saturday and the door sealed itself with a loud squelching sound.
"All right, Mine," he said, gesturing to the desks. "Have a seat."
Silently she followed the simple order, her mind spinning as she tried to figure out just what to expect from him. The entire walk down, as brief as it had seemed, her mind had been flooded by her recollection of the last time they'd been in this room and the many and varied sensations she'd experienced while they were here.
But now… now things were different. They'd gone eight hours back in time. They were basically stuck in this room for the next eight hours. The risk of running into their past selves was too great if they tried to leave so what exactly was going on here? What was he expecting to do with that much time on their hands? Also, was she honestly ready for whatever it might be?
She wanted to ask a question. She wanted to ask a dozen questions, actually, but she wasn't sure what to ask first, or even if she was allowed to speak. He hadn't specifically told her to keep silent so…
While she'd been thinking Harry had shucked off his robes, leaving them draped across the Professor's Desk and he pulled the chair out from behind it and carried it around to set it in front of the desk. Turning, he leaned back against the desk itself, ignoring the chair for the moment and simply stared at her for nearly a minute in complete silence.
Just as she opened her mouth to speak, he beat her to it.
"Do you know why we're here, Mine?" he asked and she blinked, quickly attempting to shift mental gears from asking to answering.
"I… I imagine you are looking to hold our first actual session since we went over the basics of how we want… how we want all of this to work," she said after a few moments, gesturing to the room around them and then between him and herself with one hand.
"You imagine correctly. But first, I would like to discuss a few more things before we start."
"Harry, why did you want us to-"
She cut off when he suddenly pushed off the desk and grabbed the back of the wooden chair next to him with one hand. Taking two steps forward his arm came around, spinning the chair about until the back was facing her and she jumped when the legs landed on the stone floor with a loud 'CRACK'. He quickly dropped into the seat, straddling the chair with his arms crossed on the back of it.
He was barely five feet away from her and his face was set into hard lines. His jaw slightly tense, brow minutely furrowed as he stared at her.
"I believe I told you that you aren't to worry about anything but doing what I tell you to do. Didn't I?" he asked and she found herself nodding rapidly in response. "I promise you, I'll explain everything later. For right now, don't worry about it."
She nodded again, her eyes dropping to the desk in front of her. "I'm sorry, Sir," she whispered, suddenly ashamed at herself for forgetting her place. This entire thing had been her idea. Harry might have inadvertently set her on the path to finding it, but deciding to pursue this dynamic had been entirely her decision and already she was making far too many mistakes for her liking.
"Mine, look at me," he said in a gentle tone that somehow still carried with it a note of command and she reluctantly lifted her head to meet his gaze. "You know I would do nearly anything for you, right?" he asked, his eyes showing something she found absolutely baffling, given the situation they were in.
Indecision.
Despite how… well, how in control he'd been this entire time, it was clear that he still wasn't entirely certain, he was still struggling to find the mindset he needed, the headspace to simply take command and she suddenly felt an almost surreal sense of understanding.
Harry was trying.
He was trying with everything he had to give her exactly what she'd asked for, despite his inexperience, his early reticence and his personal issues with the entire concept stemming from his treatment by his relatives. With nearly everything against him, he was still trying and she hadn't been putting in nearly the same effort thus far.
Sitting up straighter in her seat, she kept her gaze steady, resolving to show him this was what she wanted and he was doing exactly what she'd asked as she nodded in response to his question. "I know, Sir. And I would do the same for you, if you needed me to."
"If you don't want to continue this, just say the word, we'll just hang out and relax until it's time to go back to the Tower."
Her hair flew wildly about, such was the force with which she shook her head against that idea. "No. No, Sir. I do want this. I want us to at least try and see if we can find the right dynamic for us. I don't want to just give up so quickly. I'm sorry I was… I was unprepared, and I messed up. Please, let's keep going."
He gave her nearly a minute. Whether to change her mind or just to see how she would react to him staring at her in complete silence, she wasn't sure. Eventually, though, he nodded again and his eyes hardened once more, showing the powerful wizard she knew existed inside him.
"All right, then," he said in a soft, even tone of voice. "Okay, right now you're going to learn something, Mine. I'll explain why, later."
She frowned but nodded, remembering her place and to question her Dom wasn't a part of it. She was determined not to continue screwing up and to show him that she really did want this. Her focus was devoted entirely to watching him as he stood and pulled the chair back a few feet before he drew his wand and cast a spell at the stone floor halfway between the chair and where she was sitting.
"Get on your knees, Mine," he said, and she was half way out of her chair, intent on perfectly following his orders before what he'd said fully registered and for half a moment she froze. She recovered quickly, though her face was burning as brightly as it ever had as she dropped to her knees on the floor. It was only once she was settled that she realized the spell he'd cast had been a cushioning charm to protect her knees from the hard stone and a flood of gratitude rushed through her at the thoughtfulness of that simple action, a smile lighting up her face without her even realizing it.
Over the next few minutes he directed her in how he wanted her to position herself until eventually she was kneeling with her feet close together, her back straight, and her knees spread slightly wider than shoulder width. Her arms were behind her back with her arms crossed at the wrists and her eyes directed to the floor in front of her.
"You can look down or forward," Harry told her and she nodded but kept her eyes on the floor as she considered the position she was in. With her back straight as it was, her breasts were thrust forward and with her knees spread… if she hadn't been fully clothed her body would have been completely on display to him where he stood in front of her. As that realization struck home she found herself simultaneously burning with embarrassment even as she practically dripped with arousal at the thought of being so exposed.
"I'm going to step outside, Mine," he said. "While I'm gone I want you to change into your sleepwear and be back in this position before I come back in the room. Do you understand?"
Oh sweet Merlin, she thought, he'll be able to see…
"Yes, Sir," she whispered, her breath catching in her throat.
In front of her, she heard him move away toward the door then the sound of removing the locking spell. "Five minutes, Mine." The door opened then clicked quietly closed and she was alone in the room.
Letting an anxious whimper escape her, she quickly got to her feet and hurried over to the knapsack she'd packed her sleep attire into and pulled out the two articles of clothing. With her time ticking away she didn't have a moment to think. No time to worry if the simple pair of white boy short knickers were sexy or boring. No time to worry that her achingly stiff nipples would be clearly visible through her shirt. No time to even think about being embarrassed, though she certainly felt it. She simply stripped out of her clothes as quickly as she could and redressed before hurrying over to the spot where Harry had cast the cushioning charm.
She took her spot, carefully making certain that she was positioned correctly and lowered her eyes to the floor just as the door clicked open.
#####
The door shut behind Harry and he leaned against it for a moment, letting out a deep breath before one hand came up to rub across his face. Keeping up the act was a lot harder than he'd expected it to be. His worries over the entire situation didn't make it any easier, either, as he vacillated back and forth from nearly reveling in the effect he was having on her, to feeling slightly disgusted with himself over how he was treating her.
Her argument about choice had made sense. It really had. But there was a difference between understanding something and believing it and at the moment Harry was still having a bit of trouble believing that what he was doing to his girlfriend wasn't wrong in some way. And just how much he was enjoying doing it was even worse.
"Get it together, Potter," he muttered, pushing himself away from the door. "You'll have plenty of time, soon enough, to worry about all of this and try to get your head on straight. Right now she needs you to keep in control."
He took another few deep breaths, calming himself as best he could before he looked at a spot on the floor a few feet from him and quietly called out, "Dobby."
With a loud crack the excitable House Elf he'd met the previous year suddenly appeared in front of him, just as eccentrically dressed as he'd been, or would be, later in the day when Harry first found him.
Ugh, time travel hurts my brain, he thought, frowning over the confusing direction of his thoughts.
"The Great Harry Potter, Sir calls for Dobby?" Dobby squeaked, bouncing in place several times. "Harry Potter, Sir is an even greater wizard than Dobby thought, to know that Dobby was here at Hogywarts!"
"Well, I didn't know, actually, Dobby," Harry corrected him, smiling down at the vibrating little figure. "I actually will be running into you in the kitchens for the first time in a few hours. When I met you then, you said that you helped me out here earlier in the day, which would be now. Think you can help?"
Dobby looked extremely confused but he heard the word 'help' and apparently decided that everything else was superfluous information as he nodded his head rapidly up and down, his bulbous green eyes wider than Harry'd ever seen them.
"Yes, Harry Potter, Sir! Dobby cans be helping. What can Dobby be doing?"
"I need you to put a bed inside this classroom, here," Harry explained, indicating the door behind him. "But you can't go in there. My girlfriend is in there and she is changing her clothes. Can you get the bed in one corner of the room behind her without her knowing and without you actually going in there, yourself?"
More rapid nodding, his head almost a blur, was the little elf's response.
"Dobby cans," he crowed gleefully. "Dobby cans be doing that for the Great Harry Potter, Sir and his Missy Miney."
Harry smiled and reached out to pat Dobby on the shoulder. "Thank you, Dobby. You're a real pal. I've gotta get back in there so can you go ahead and do that? I'll be seeing you later in the kitchens, but remember, I won't have any idea that you're here or that we met now. And please, don't tell anyone other than me that you did this, okay?"
Dobby didn't answer but he nodded, and a moment later vanished with another loud crack and Harry blew out another breath.
"Damn, it's exhausting just talking to him. Little guy has way too much energy."
After checking the battered old watch that he'd stolen from his cousin years ago, Harry realized that he really did need to get back into the room as Hermione's five minutes were just about up. He took a deep breath, stood as tall and seemingly confident as he could, and opened the door.
He kept his gaze away from the center of the room when he entered, taking a moment to close and seal the door again before he turned and finally looked at her where she was kneeling on the floor, just as he'd instructed her.
Bloody fucking hell! He thought, his eyes nearly bulging out of his head at the sight of her. The soft, baby blue t-shirt she had on looked as if it might have been at least a size too small for her frame as it seemed to hug the curves of her breasts almost like a second skin. Even from where he stood across the room, he could easily make out the hardened points of her nipples pressing against the thin fabric and he nearly instantly hardened in his trousers as his eyes moved over her body.
Never a particularly athletic girl, preferring to spend her time reading or studying, the countless stairs around the castle had still seen to it that her legs were finely toned, encased in incredibly soft looking creamy skin and Harry's hands twitched at his sides as he remembered running his hands over her jean clad legs, feeling the muscles in her thighs tightening at his touch. For a half a second he thought she wasn't wearing anything but the shirt until he slowly moved closer and realized she had on a small, white pair of knickers that did little to truly preserve her modesty in the presence of a teenage boy.
The position he'd put her in gave him a clear view to her center and as he slowly sank into the chair he'd been using before, he could distinctly see a small damp spot on the front of her knickers, clear evidence as to the state of her arousal.
He shook his head, firmly taking a mental hold of himself and drew his wand, casting a warming charm over her since the room was still quite cool. A small sigh escaped her as the charm took effect and he had to shift slightly in his seat to get more comfortable.
This is not the time, he thought. You had a specific purpose for bringing her here. Get on with it, Potter.
He carefully cleared his throat, sitting back in the chair with his hands resting on his thighs.
"Mine, look at me."
Slowly she lifted her head, her wild hair beautifully framing her flushed face, until she met his eyes. They remained that way for several long seconds before Harry suddenly smirked, unable to help himself as that same thrilling sense of power hummed through his body.
"I think I like you like this, Mine," he said. "Blushing and so obviously turned on. You've never looked more beautiful."
She ducked her head, but kept eye contact with him. "Thank you, Sir," she murmured.
He shifted again in his seat and for a moment her eyes darted down toward his lap, widening a second later and shooting back up to his face and he had to fight the urge to cross his legs. It was only fair, he decided, since he could see how turned on she was getting that she knew just what she did to him.
Harry thought carefully for several moments on how he wanted to proceed. Almost immediately he decided to do away with several thoughts he'd had as he wasn't sure he'd be able to get through them with her looking like that. So he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his thighs with his hands clasped in front of him, determined to move onto the main reason he'd instigated this particular session.
"Originally, I'd planned to have a bit of a discussion here, Mine," he admitted. "I wasn't expecting you to be wearing so… little, however."
Her face twisted into a slight frown.
"You're just incredibly distracting, kneeling there like that. So, I think I'll save our discussion for later. For right now I want you to stand and turn around. Look over in the far corner and tell me what you see."
Obediently she stood, hesitating slightly before she turned, presenting a stellar view of her arse that had him tightly clenching his fists as she looked over into the corner.
"I-I see a b-bed, Sir," she stammered out.
He stood and picked up his book bag off the Professor's desk where he'd left it before he moved over and reached out to take her hand. She jumped at the initial contact but quickly settled, holding his hand firmly as he led her across the room to the bed Dobby had provided. It was a full bed with a simple headboard, not one of the large four poster beds that they had in their dorms, and it was covered with a Gryffindor colored red and gold comforter.
Dropping his bag on the floor he let go of her hand and pulled back the comforter and the sheets before he turned to her and gestured to the bed.
"Lay down, Mine," he ordered as calmly as he could, trying to pretend that his heart wasn't attempting to hammer its way out of his chest. By the way she was shifting her weight and fidgeting, he could tell she was nervous. Her actions weren't the same as when she was just turned on and her eyes clearly showed the uncertainty and apprehension she was feeling. "Trust me," he said, taking her hand again and giving it a gentle squeeze. "Lay down."
She looked up from where her eyes had fallen to their clasped hands, giving him a long searching look before she complied, gingerly climbing into the bed and moving toward the middle, laying down on her back, her hair splayed out across the pillows.
When he grabbed the sheet and comforter and pulled them up her body to her neck she looked even more confused than ever as he set about tucking her into bed.
"Sir?" she asked.
"I brought you here for one, very specific reason, Mine," he told her, dropping to his knees beside the bed so he could lean his elbows on the edge of the mattress. He reached out and brushed a stray curl of her hair away from her face, letting his hand trail down the side of her face to cup her cheek. "You're exhausted. You're pushing yourself too hard and right now, I only have one order that I want you to obey. That is to get some sleep."
She gaped at him for several moments in shock her mouth working soundlessly several times before she was able to formulate any words.
"Sleep?" she asked, incredulously. "You want… you want me to sleep, Sir?"
He nodded, giving her a warm smile. "I do. Right now, more than anything, I want you to sleep."
"But… I thought…" she trailed off her face shifting from one expression to another so rapidly he couldn't quite make sense of them.
"You thought I wanted us to… to sleep together?" he offered, shying away momentarily from the more direct terms as he felt himself losing some of that control he'd been holding tightly to.
"Well… you got a bed in here, something I'd love to know how you managed and… well I've already told you what I'm willing to do with you," she finished, blushing brilliantly again.
"I know, and believe me I'm very, very tempted. But… you know that, as your Dom, my role isn't just to give you orders to follow, right? I'm not here just to control you."
She frowned again, confusion replacing embarrassment once more.
"You've given me a responsibility," he tried to explain. Sighing he ran one hand back through his hair and he frowned thoughtfully, attempting to put his thoughts into words that would actually make sense to someone other than him. "My role is to teach and train, from what I understand. Teach you how I want you to behave and train you to behave in that way. That's how I understand it, at least. I'm fairly sure we're both getting some things wrong but we're doing the best we can, right?" he asked and she nodded, silently urging him to continue.
"Well, the way I see it, I not only have a responsibility to teach and train but also to protect you. You've put yourself in a vulnerable position and given me something beyond value. The trust you have in me is a gift and I don't have any intention of taking it for granted, not how I've taken you for granted the last couple of years. As your Dom, I see protecting you as part of my responsibility to you, and right now you need protecting from yourself. So, I want you to sleep. And I decided that if ordering you to get some rest was the only way to get you to do it, then that's what I was going to do."
Her confused expression had softened while he'd talked, a small smile curving her lips. Her arm wormed its way out from under the blankets and she reached out to caress the side of his face, her fingers ghosting lightly over his skin.
"We're not quite getting this, are we?" she asked and he shrugged, unconsciously leaning his head toward her hand. She gently stroked his cheek for a moment before she pulled her hand away and turned onto her side beneath the blankets, her eyes fixed on his face. "All right, Sir," she whispered. "I'll sleep, as ordered. But… can I ask a question, first?"
"Of course, Mine."
"If your goal was to get me to sleep… why did you go about getting me so turned on?"
He felt his lips twist into a smirk and he stood, moving away to pull a chair close by the bed. "You were so upset earlier. Rightfully so. I hadn't planned on things going exactly as they did, honestly, but I decided, while you were ranting, that you needed something to distract you." He dropped into the chair and looked over at her. "Have you been worried and upset since this started?"
She considered that for a moment before her eyes slowly widened and his smirk morphed into a full blown grin.
"Problems will wait," he told her, reaching down to pull his Transfiguration text from his bag. "For right now, no more questions. No more talking. Relax and just rest. I'll be right here, protecting you, and I'll wake you in a few hours."
With that, he opened his book and began to read, letting a comfortable silence settle over the room broken only by the occasional sound of him turning a page in his book.
When he looked up at her half-an-hour later, she was sound asleep and he smiled for a moment before he turned his attention back to his studies.
#####
Cinnamon colored eyes opened slowly and she rolled from her side onto her back, stretching languidly beneath her blankets as she became more and more alert. She could tell, immediately, that her rest hadn't been exceptionally long, but she felt better than she had in some time for it and a soft smile spread across her face.
I can't believe he actually ordered me to sleep, she thought fondly of the young man she'd placed her trust in. The fact that he had taken the opportunity to care for her, instead of satisfying his own wants or needs just further proved in her mind that he was the best choice for her. She had never felt so safe and loved as she had with him sitting by her bed, watching over her, except when she was with her parents, the only other people in the world who she knew truly cared about her.
"Hey, Beautiful."
Her smile grew into a broad grin as the voice reached her ears and she rolled onto her side again to face him. He was still sitting in the chair where she'd last seen him, looking for all the world as if he hadn't moved from that spot the entire time she was asleep. She doubted that was true, he had to have gotten up at some point, even if just to stretch, but that warm feeling flooded her chest again as she thought of him sitting by her bedside the whole time, keeping a protective vigil while she slept.
"Hey," she whispered, too overcome with emotion to speak any louder lest she break that fragile bubble that surrounded her, the warm cocoon of safety that he'd created just by his presence.
"How're you feeling?" he asked, concern clear on his face and in his tone and she realized that she wasn't dealing with Harry Potter, Dom, but with her boyfriend by his posture and the set of his expression.
"Wonderful, actually," she responded. "I don't think I've ever slept so well."
His smile was probably the broadest she'd ever seen him produce and that alone brought another smile to her face.
"Good." He glanced to the side for a moment before turning back to her. "Feel like getting up? I got some food brought in and we could sit and talk over everything?"
Nodding she sat up, noticing out of the corner of her eye how he flushed and turned away slightly, which reminded her of the tight shirt she was wearing, bringing a flush of her own to her cheeks. Absently, she found it a touch fascinating that he'd only really blushed a few times earlier when he was busy taking her breath away with the forceful presence he was able to muster but now he seemed just like his regular self, an inexperienced, nervous teen, just like she was.
It felt… nice, to know that she could affect him that way.
"I'll step outside again so you can get dressed," he muttered, setting his book aside so he could follow word with deed and leave the room.
"You don't need to leave," she blurted out before she knew she was going to say it and he turned a shocked expression toward her.
"Uhhh…" was his response to that and she giggled slightly at his flummoxed expression.
"Really," she insisted. "I'll admit, it might be a bit embarrassing but you more than anyone are allowed to look at me."
He seemed to consider that for a minute before he gave her a soft smile and shook his head. "No. I'll turn my back, at least. I think I want to save seeing you like that for some time a little more meaningful."
Realizing she likely wouldn't get anywhere trying to argue with him she simply nodded and he turned away, moving over to where a small table had been set up with two covered plates resting on its surface. At the foot of the bed, she found her clothes, laid out neatly and she quickly dressed, pulling her skirt up over her hips and switching her t-shirt for her bra and the loose blouse she'd been wearing earlier in the day. Socks and shoes went on after that and she stuffed the soiled pair of her knickers in one of her robes pockets before she draped them over the back of the chair he'd been sitting in.
Walking up behind him she set one hand on his shoulder and he turned, smiling brightly for a moment before he leaned in to give her a soft kiss, his lips brushing against hers.
Hmmmm… she thought, that just won't do.
Her hands came up to wrap around his shoulders, one hand tangling in his messy hair as she eagerly deepened the kiss. Every kiss they'd shared up till that point, save their first, had been gentle, loving, and relatively chaste, and while those were pleasant and wonderful, she was rapidly learning that she wanted more from Harry. Earlier, she hadn't been against the idea of having sex with him as she'd originally thought was his plan, she'd only been nervous and anxious over the idea of such a new experience.
She opened her mouth slightly, letting her tongue dart out to tease the seam of his lips and he gasped in surprise, his lips parting just enough for her to slip her tongue into his mouth. For about the first thirty seconds or so their tongues danced lightly around each other, exploring this new way of expressing their affection and desire.
As with their first kiss, Harry's arms wrapped around her, one hand tangling in her long hair, this time giving a sharp tug that drew a slightly pained gasp from her and their positions suddenly changed as he took a commanding control over the kiss. All Hermione could do was hold onto him as he explored her mouth, giving herself over completely to the sensations running through her.
When they finally parted, panting for air, she let out a low hum as his fingers gently rubbed her scalp, soothing the stinging ache from his pulling her hair.
"Sorry," he muttered breathlessly, his forehead resting against hers. "I didn't mean to pull your hair like that.
"You don't have to apologize. I actually kind of liked it," she assured him, her eyes still closed as she simply enjoyed feeling him close to her, his arms still wrapped firmly around her body.
Eventually, they pulled away and Harry took her hand, leading her over to the table. The light meal was spent in quiet conversation, discussing school, hobbies, interests outside of the wizarding world and Hermione shocked to realize that, as well as they knew each other, there were still so many things left to learn. She'd never known, for example, that Harry used to love to read. Books were about the only presents his cousin had ever received that he'd had no interest in and Harry had been able to sneak them away and read for a while when he was younger.
She talked more about her life growing up how she'd fallen in love with reading and the many and varied worlds they took her too as a young, friendless child. They had been an escape for her, a way to avoid the less pleasant kids in her school and lose herself in beloved characters and settings, far removed from her own. She talked about her parents and the support and care they'd shown her growing up and, instead of getting sad at the memory of his own parents, Harry had been fascinated, asking question after question and seemed quite eager to meet them properly one day.
"I have to ask," she said as they finished eating and the dishes vanished with a series of soft pops. "How did you set all this up? The bed? Dinner? How were you so sure we could even get away with this?"
Harry's grin was more than a little smug and the sight of it did some funny things to her insides that Hermione found she quite enjoyed.
"I knew we could get away with it because we already had," he said causing her no small amount of confusion so he leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table to explain.
"Earlier this afternoon I was looking at the Marauders Map. I thought I'd seen a name on it a few weeks ago that shouldn't have been there so I was trying to see if I could spot him again when I saw the two of us, in this room. That didn't make a bit of sense to me at first. I took a study break and decided to head down to the kitchens and see about grabbing a snack, figured if we were still on the map by the time I finished I would go investigate, and guess who I ran into down there?"
"Who?" she asked.
"Dobby. Remember the House Elf I told you about last year? He works here in the kitchens now. He was really excited when I came into the kitchens going on about how amazing it was that I'd come to see him twice in one day. Except I hadn't seen Dobby before, I didn't even know he was here so that confused me even more. Eventually he explained that I had called to him at a little before three o'clock this afternoon and asked him for some help. He said I'd asked for a bed to be placed in the room here and he was going to be bringing us something to eat in a couple of hours.
"Remember when I wasn't paying very close attention when you were upset in that classroom by the tower? I was watching the two of us here in the room."
"You said 'we're gone'," she quoted, suddenly remembering and piecing together the details. "You saw us leaving the room, didn't you?"
He nodded, grinning brightly. "We leave this room at a quarter to ten. By the time we get up to the Tower we should be just in time to let our past selves go by on their way down here and we can take off my dad's cloak and just walk right back into the Tower, just in time for curfew."
Hermione was stunned. It was a brilliant plan, simple in execution, but brilliant.
"That was very well thought out," she complimented him and he blushed slightly, shrugging his shoulders dismissively.
"I doubt it'll work too often in the future, but I'm sure we can use the same idea now and then to get some extra time ourselves if we really need to. I know you'd rather not abuse the Time Turner but…" He trailed off, shrugging again and she tucked the thought away for future consideration. Who knew? He could be right and it might not be such a bad idea to get some time alone with him.
"Do you mind if I ask a question?" he asked.
She cocked her head slightly to one side, giving him a curious look at the sudden hesitance in his voice. "Of course, Harry."
"Well… you've explained that you felt you were submissive, and I've seen enough to believe that, now. You explained why you think it might help, which we saw earlier when I was able to distract you. I get all that, to an extent. What I haven't been able to figure out is made you look for this in particular? How did you even know about it?"
She straightened up, suddenly grinning at the memory that had started her on this particular journey.
"It was your fault, actually," she said, grinning again when he gave her a blank look.
"My fault? How is it my fault?"
"The night before I left to go home for the holidays. Do you remember that you ordered me to find some way to deal with my stress?"
He nodded. "Right, in the Common Room."
"And what did I say to that?"
He frowned as he thought over the question for a moment before he looked at her again. "'Yes, Sir'?" he asked.
She nodded. "And then you cupped my chin with your hand and you said 'Good girl'." She shrugged, leaning back in her seat. "When you said that… those two little words made me feel… something I couldn't define and I didn't understand. It was so bad…" She paused, flushing brilliantly but pushed forward. "It was so bad that I actually had to get myself off three times before I could even get to sleep. And that was the first time I was thinking of you while I did that. That's why I couldn't really look at you the next day, I was so embarrassed."
The appraising look on Harry's face when she said that had her flushing even more and she lowered her eyes to the table, unable to meet his gaze.
"At home I spent days searching my local library for books on psychology and sexuality, trying to figure out why I'd reacted that way. Why just two words had had such a strong impact on me. Before I came back, the Librarian, Missus Markell gave me a Christmas present. The four books we've been using and a letter. She wrote that she'd guessed, based on the books I was checking out, something about me and she gave me the books to make sure I had some reliable information instead of possibly finding out something wrong from another source.
"She also told me that I would need a partner and that I should be extremely cautious in who I chose. That was on Christmas Day and it took me three weeks of reading and arguing with myself to admit the truth. Once I did, though, I decided I wanted to try and there was absolutely no one I could trust other than you to help me."
When she finished, Harry remained silent for a time, turning over her answer in his mind several times before he let out a long, slow breath.
"Two little words," he muttered. "It's amazing to me, that two little words could start something so…" He trailed off, waving one hand in a helpless way, as if he couldn't quite find the words he was looking for. She understood his point, however, and gave a meaningful nod of her own.
A minute later there was a visible shift in her boyfriend. His expression hardened, a tightening around his jaw and eyes that was subtle and easily missed save for the fact that she knew him so well. His posture changed as well, shoulders coming back as his back straightened slightly as if he were drawing himself up to seem as tall as he could and she knew, immediately, that she was dealing with her Sir again.
"Before your nap, I mentioned a discussion I'd wanted to have," he said and even his voice had changed in simple ways she couldn't quite put a name to.
"Yes, Sir," she responded as her heart picked up its beat a touch in response to him.
He stood and moved away from the table, back out into the center of the room where he cast a cushioning charm at the floor again, five feet in front of his chair. Turning back to her he pointed to the spot where he'd cast the spell and said, simply, "you know the position, Mine."
As quickly as she could without running, she made her way over to her place and settled down on her knees, taking a moment to ensure she was properly positioned before raising her head to look at Harry. While she'd been getting in place he'd taken his seat in the chair, right leg crossed over his left knee at the ankle, hands resting in his lap as he watched her.
"Good girl," he said and she shivered as that warm, flushed sensation cascaded through her body again. It had been almost two months since the night he first said those two little words to her and now that she understood, the feelings they created were more powerful than ever.
"The other day we each signed a contract that we drafted, together. Do you remember that?" he asked quietly, his eyes fixed intently on hers.
She frowned, wondering where he was going with this but answered the question as quickly as she could. "Yes, Sir. I remember."
"We included some fairly basic rules in that contract, didn't we?"
"Yes, Sir, we did."
"Can you tell me, then, which of those rules that you broke earlier before your nap?"
At that, Hermione winced, realizing she really had been making a hash of this and she straightened up even further in her position as her mind whirled back over the rules they'd listed. There hadn't been a huge number of them since they wanted to start easy and work things up as they went so it didn't take her long to identify exactly which rules she'd broken.
"'When given an order by the Dom, the sub is to respond quickly and without hesitation or question'," she quoted. "I hesitated, twice in the classroom by the tower when you asked if I understood your order. 'When in session, the sub is to refer to the Dom as 'Sir' at all times.' I called you by name at least once. I also hesitated and questioned you when you asked about my Time Turner and when you told me to get some sleep."
By the time she'd finished she appeared to have shrunk in on herself, her head lowered and her shoulders hunched inward, tears threatening to spill from her eyes. She had never felt quite so ashamed of herself, not even when Professor McGonagall had given her a detention in their first year. She'd always prided herself on following the rules, and these particular rules had been almost entirely her idea. She wanted to show deference. She wanted to show obedience when Sir gave her an order. Dammit, why had she screwed up so badly?
"We'll let the Time Turner ones slide as that was a little outside the norm, but what did the rules state would happen if you repeatedly broke them like that, Mine?" he asked, his tone hardening and the most confusing mixture of thrilled excitement and an icy finger of fear lanced through her at the implied threat in his words.
"'Repeated violations of these rules will result in punishment of the sub at the Dom's discretion, to ensure she learns to properly follow instructions'," she practically whispered and he nodded, staring intently at her for several long breaths before he let out a frustrated sigh.
"I'll be honest with you, Mine," he told her. "I don't really want to punish you. I wanted you to experience the positives that we know can be had before either of us had to deal with the negatives."
She said nothing and simply waited as she attempted to sift through a tangled mess of contradictory emotions. She was nervous, of course, apprehensive over the idea of being punished for her lapses. She was also shocked to discover that it wasn't the idea of receiving a punishment that worried her but the fact of not knowing what that punishment would be. She felt ashamed for her mistakes and was determined to correct them, even if that meant being punished.
Beneath all of that was the low level arousal she felt whenever he got like this. Stern, forceful, demanding. She was quickly coming to love what this side of him did to her, and knowing just how difficult it was for him had her so grateful to have him in her life.
"I think this is partly my fault," he muttered, drawing her focus back to him and away from her mental meanderings. "We're trying to do something… something very complicated without any real direction or instruction. We set rules with no time to learn the mindset that appears to be so important in this kind of thing. When I started this earlier, I surprised you with it and you didn't have time to get into the right mindset.
"I'm also supposed to be training you, and I haven't been doing that. Not properly. One of the things I should have been doing consistently, is making sure to note, so you're aware, each time you do something wrong." Standing, he moved over to her and knelt so he was on her level, looking into her eyes. "What it is I do or say isn't important, apparently. The important part is that you know, explicitly, what it means, and also that I do the same thing each time so that there's no confusion."
"I understand, Sir," she murmured.
"So, there will be no punishments for today's mistakes, though there will be some new rules. The first of those, is this." Reaching out, he tucked a lock of her hair gently behind her left ear. "When we're like this, in here, or in sessions, if I tuck your hair behind your ear like this it means you've done something wrong and that I am disappointed in you. Do you understand?"
For a moment, Hermione was confused by a sensation of… disappointment, when Harry said she would not be punished. Did she actually want to be punished? What did that mean? What did it say about her? Then she heard the words 'disappointed in you' and she could have sworn someone had just punched her in the stomach, though she showed no outward reaction.
"Mine," he said forcefully after several seconds of silence passed by them. "I need you to tell me that you understand. There can't be any confusion or misunderstanding here."
"I understand, Sir," she managed in a trembling whisper and his hand moved to cup her chin, lifting her head from where she'd lowered her eyes until their gazes met again.
"Good girl."
What the hell is wrong with me? She wondered when those two words lifted her from the deep despondency she'd just been wallowing in up to something bordering on euphoria. Hermione had always been an emotional person. She felt strongly and deeply even though she tried to view the world logically. Ever since starting this dynamic with Harry, however, he seemed to be able to send her emotions into overdrive, sending her flying or falling with a few simple words or a gesture and she couldn't wrap her head around it.
She loved it, honestly. But she couldn't begin to understand it.
When he let go of her chin she suddenly realized that she was grinning broadly at him and worked to bring herself back to a more neutral expression, at the least, as he went back to his chair and sat again.
"So, rules," he said and she nodded, putting as much of her focus as she was capable of on him and what he intended to say to her.
"First is to address the issue that caused the problems before, that being you not being in the proper mindset to respond appropriately to my orders. The position you're in, I've decided to call 'The Student'. For the immediate future, every session we decide to have, you will come here first and you will wait for me right where you are in that very position. That's why I taught it to you. The intent is that while you're waiting it will help you get into the proper mindset. Like a student, ready to receive instruction.
"I know it can't be comfortable to hold for long so we'll be working on it. You'll be practicing staying in that pose for longer periods of time. I might also add other positions in the future, but we'll deal with those when and if they come up."
"Yes, Sir."
Very well thought out, she reasoned and wondered slightly at the fact that Harry really had been paying very close attention to the books. Taking what he found and applying it in the real world like this showed the effort he was putting in. She resolved to practice the pose on her own whenever she could.
"I only have one other thing, but it would involve changing something… more significant about this arrangement."
Hermione arched a curious brow when he didn't continue, instead staring down at his hands with his brow furrowed. Normally she was able to read him better than anyone, but she couldn't tell if he was simply thinking or he was frustrated or upset, and that bothered her slightly. She'd always prided herself on being able to read Harry Potter. Of course, this version of him was new, and different, she decided. It might take her some time to learn the little nuances that gave him away.
"You were very insistent on keeping this separate from the rest of our lives. From our relationship outside of this. This rule I want to put in would go against that, so I'm just going to lay it out and we can discuss it."
That had her frowning. She wasn't sure if she liked the sound of that and like so many things she'd experienced that day, she wasn't entirely certain why. For a moment she thought it was because he wanted to change something integral, she felt, to the dynamic. Then she had a stray thought that belied that possibility. Why would he want to discuss it? He is the Dom, he should just tell me how things are going to change.
"I don't like what this year is doing to you, Mine. I've already told you that. The last few days you were getting more and more like you were before the holidays. That's why I planned this session tonight, to get you to rest and to relax some. The issue with Ron was just extra.
"The rule that I want to add is that you will not let yourself get so distressed any more. If you feel you need a distraction, come to me and tell me and we'll arrange some time for you. I don't care if it's every other day, if you need it you come to me. If I have to spring another session on you like I did tonight, that will result in punishment."
She considered that very carefully. In a way, he was right. A rule like that, a standing one that was affected by something outside their sessions would violate the letter of the rule about keeping it separate from the rest of their lives. But did it necessarily violate the spirit of the rule? She felt that it might not, considering the stress she was putting herself under was a large part of what pushed her into approaching Harry with the entire idea. It was all connected.
Then the fact that he expressly stated she would be punished for violating that rule told her just how serious he was considering his reluctance to enforce any punishments. Honestly, they hadn't been at this long. Two conversations and one actual session was not enough time for them to really settle into their roles. Who knew? Maybe in a few weeks Harry would be comfortable with punishing her. Right now, however, he was not, and the fact that he was even willing to consider it on this issue spoke volumes.
"I think I have to agree, Sir," she finally said and he jerked slightly in his seat, staring at her in surprise for a moment before he was able to collect himself.
"I'm surprised you didn't argue against it," he admitted.
"You're not wrong. I know I can be… stubborn. I know I push myself too hard. So you're right that I probably wouldn't approach you for help until after I was already a mess. Part of the point here was to help with the stress I'm under. It's not helping if I'm being stubborn, so…" She paused and took a deep breath. "I agree. That is a rule we should have in place. For my own protection, if nothing else."
He opened his mouth, then suddenly cut off when his watch started beeping. He frowned, looking down at the object in annoyance before he sighed and pressed a button on the side, silencing the alarm.
"Our eight hours are up," he said by way of explanation. "It's twenty minutes to ten so we need to be out of here in the next five minutes." He stood and walked over to her, holding out one hand to help her up. "Come on, Hermione. Session's over, time to get back."
She took his hand, quickly getting to her feet and after shaking out a bit of numbness in her legs they gathered their bags and robes and headed out beneath Harry's cloak after she'd unsealed the door.
Hermione was thinking hard as they walked, trusting in Harry to make sure she didn't stumble or walk into anything and by the time they reached the corridor leading to the Tower she knew what she wanted to say.
"Harry?" she whispered.
"Hmmm?" he hummed quietly, his attention on their surroundings.
"I wanted to thank you."
He looked over to her at that, a curious look on his face.
"For what?"
"It's pretty clear that you're still not entirely comfortable with all of this, Harry," she pointed out. "I hope… well I hope you really want to do this, and aren't just doing it for my sake. Like I said, it doesn't really work that way. But even if you do want this as much as I do, I can tell it's still not easy for you. I really appreciate how hard you're working at this, doing this for me. So thank you, very much."
She leaned up, pressing a kiss to his cheek and smiled shyly at him.
"It isn't easy," he admitted. "And… well I can't say I don't enjoy it. I mean… well you saw that I was enjoying it after I had you change your clothes," he pointed out, a rueful grin on his lips and she blushed hotly again at the memory. "I just… I'm still trying to adjust my view of things, I guess. It… it feels wrong somehow to treat you like that, at times. Other times it's a phenomenal feeling and I'm a little torn, I guess, over just how much I like it at times."
The portrait leading into the Tower came into sight and they watched as Fred and George entered the Common Room. Less than a minute later their younger selves came out and Harry threw his cloak over the two of them as the older them stepped to the side against the wall in order to avoid accidentally colliding with their invisible selves from eight hours ago.
Damn, time travel is really a headache, Hermione mused, a small grin turning her lips. They gave it a couple of extra minutes before Harry pulled the cloak off of them and put it away, approaching the Portrait to give the password.
"Didn't you two just walk out?" Twin one asked when the two of them walked arm-in-arm into the Common Room.
They exchanged a look before Harry grinned mischievously at her and turned back to the twins.
Harry stopped and clasped one hand on a twin's shoulder and leaned in close to him to whisper, "Mischief Managed."
Hermione burst into a fit of giggles as they walked past the twins, leaving them both looking confused and she gave them a little wave over her shoulder as she went to sit beside the fire and relax with her amazing boyfriend.