Chapter 10: Conversations and Maps
Author's Notes: Hola. Sorry this took so long but life has intruded on my writing time and I'm honestly bad at juggling multiple projects at once. It's something I need to work on. That being said this story is gonna be put on the back burner a bit. Not abandoned. I just have other things I should be focusing on more so this will probably see slow updates for a while until I can focus on it more fully.
Also, in this chapter there's a little shout out/reference to Neptune20's The Brightest Witch I just wanted to point out so people familiar with that story aren't confused or questioning. I thought it'd be fun.
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Lets move on.
When Hermione woke on Sunday morning it was to the realization that her estimations had been correct. She was sore. Mostly in her shoulders, but her legs and the muscles in her abdomen held a dull ache as well. All in all, she had to admit that it felt fucking fantastic. Not so much that her body ached, but more why her body ached. She likened it to what she'd heard some athletes say, that the soreness in their muscles from a good workout reminded them that they'd accomplished something, they'd worked hard and pushed themselves, and the soreness was the result of the effort they'd put in.
The day before she'd been pushed, emotionally and physically, and she found she'd responded favorably to nearly everything she'd experienced in a way she'd never imagined possible before. A broad grin broke out on her face as she stretched languidly in her bed. She relaxed there for a moment longer, letting her mind come fully awake and alert before starting her day.
Just before opening her bed curtains, she pulled a bathrobe over her t-shirt in order to hide the fact that she was still diligently following her orders. She wore no knickers to bed, a sensation she'd found unusual at first, but thrilling and pleasing at the same time. The robe was just in case one of her dorm mates happened to wake up early. She checked the pocket of her robe for the bottle of lube, then carefully opened her curtains and looked out into the dorm.
All was quiet, and all of the other bed curtains were pulled shut. As quickly as she could, she got out of bed, gathered together her towel and her bathing supplies, and slipped into the bathroom.
Gods, I'm already getting wet, she thought as she leaned against the closed door, her breathing noticeably heavy. Her quick walk across the dorm had set the plug shifting inside her, the still new sensations sending pleasurable tingles through her body. She took a moment to collect herself before she was faced with a small conundrum. She needed to use the loo, which meant the plug had to come out. Not a problem in and of itself, but Sir had ordered that when she was finished she was to clean it and put it back. If she left it out while she showered… would that violate her order?
It would be better to shower without it, she thought, chewing idly on her bottom lip as she considered the situation. I'll tell Sir about it later, and let him decide if that violates my order. The idea of nottelling Harry never even occurred to her as she started gingerly across the room toward one of the stalls, nor did she realize that she'd thought of him as 'Sir' and not 'Harry'.
Inside the stall, with the door locked, her bathrobe hung on the hook on the back of the door and her supplies sitting on the back of the tank, she lowered the lid over the toilet and bent forward at the waist, placing her left hand down on the closed lid. Biting her lip again she reached back with her right hand, carefully grasping the base of the plug.
The day before she'd needed to remove the plug once, and had promptly put it back after cleaning it, as ordered. Overnight, the majority of the lube she'd used had dried, or been absorbed by her body, so she started by gently twisting the plug back and forth, making sure it wasn't stuck, and she was forced to clamp down on a small moan as the length of steel inside her body moved around. Once she was certain that it was loose, she started to pull, a soft whimper escaping her as the tight ring of her anus stretched over the smooth metal.
She took several deep breaths in order to collect herself after it popped out, quickly wrapping it in some toilet paper, before she tucked the plug into the pocket of her bathrobe. After completing her business, she put her robe back on and quickly carried her things over to one of the showers, wasting no time in cleaning herself thoroughly. As she worked, surprisingly, she realized that she already missed the sensation of having the plug inside her. It was the smallest of the three she'd been shown, but with her inexperience, she felt full in a way she'd never known before with it in.
Shower finished, she used her towel to dry her body, dried her hair with her wand, and slipped her robe back on, before setting about cleaning her plug with a combination of a cleaning charm followed by warm water and soap. Deciding to go with comfort for her next task, five minutes later found her lying on her side, behind her bed curtains, as she reached back to push the well lubricated plug back into her body. It was a longer process than taking it out had been, as her body wanted to tense in anticipation even as she tried to relax her muscles as much as possible.
After several long minutes the plug was fully inserted and she quickly dressed. A part of her wanted to pull on a pair of her jeans, but she wasn't certain if the plug would be visible pressing against the fabric, so she went with a loose skirt and blouse, and pulled a set of her class robes over the whole ensemble. Looking around, she gathered her bag and tucked the bottle of lube into the inside pocket of her robes, nodding her head in satisfaction that she had everything she needed, before she slung the bag over one shoulder and started her way downstairs, leaving the rest of her dorm mates still snoozing away their Sunday.
By the time she entered the Common Room at a quarter past seven, she was unsurprised to find Harry sitting on their sofa, several sheets of parchment spread out on the coffee table in front of him. She was surprised, when she got closer, to realize that he wasn't looking over class notes or assignments.
"What's all this?" she asked curiously as she leaned on the back of the couch, looking over his shoulder at the mystery parchments. They appeared to be covered with columns of sums and figures, along with numerous symbols that she didn't immediately recognize at a glance.
"Morning," he said, leaning back and turning to look at her with a small smile curving his lips. She answered his smile with one of her own, leaning closer to give him a quick kiss before she pulled away.
"Morning. What's all this?" she asked again gesturing to the parchment.
He snorted out a laugh and shook his head, leaning forward to scoop everything together into a single stack that he placed into a black leather bound folder. "This is the vault and account statements from Gringotts that I asked Dobby to pick up for me the other day, remember?"
She nodded, her eyes lighting with a new curiosity as she eyed the folder.
"Problem is I don't really know how to make heads or tails of it so I was kind of hoping you might help me look through it," he informed her, a hopeful note in his voice.
Her instinctive reaction was to immediately agree, anything to help Harry, but immediately on the heels of that initial instinct, a second thought occurred causing her to hesitate, pensively chewing on her bottom lip without thinking.
"Are you sure that's a good idea?" she asked a moment later, causing Harry to blink in confusion.
"Why wouldn't it be? You're smarter than I am, and I trust you completely. There's no one else I would want to help me."
"That's sweet, Harry," she muttered, smiling again, "but really… from what we got out of Neville, it sounds like the Potter's might have been fairly well off…"
"What's that got to do with anything?" he asked, his confusion growing as she squirmed a bit uncomfortably.
"Well… we're dating," she pointed out.
"Yeah, so?"
Hermione sighed and moved around to carefully sit next to her boyfriend.
"Have you considered the future much?" she asked.
Harry's brow furrowed into a deep frown, and he turned on the sofa so that he was facing her more directly.
"How do you mean?"
She took a deep breath and reached out to take one of his hands in hers. "Ooookay… not exactly when I thought a conversation like this might come up," she muttered nervously.
"That's not exactly filling me with confidence, Hermione," he pointed out.
She smiled in as reassuring a manner as she could, "It's not exactly a bad thing… it's just a topic that tends to send most males running for the hills. At our ages… well it seems like a silly discussion to have to most people."
"We're not most people," he pointed out, "Aside from the whole witch and wizard thing, we've been through a lot just in the last two years. What most people deal with is completely different than what we've been through, so just explain this to me?"
She nodded, accepting his point, before slowly gathering her thoughts. "Us," she said. "Our relationship. Have you thought at all about the future as far as we're concerned?"
Harry's frown only deepened.
"I mean us being together, our relationship years from now… maybe being married one day? Most people don't marry their first boyfriend or girlfriend, and if I help you look through that," she gestured to the folder on the table with her free hand, "people are going to assume that it has something to do with us being together."
He considered that for a moment before speaking. "You mean people might assume you're trying to be close to me because of my family's money?" he asked.
"Yes! Exactly... especially with my being muggleborn. I'd bet just about anything that some people will assume I'm trying to 'marry above my station', especially since you apparently have a Lordship coming to you as well."
"Are you?" he asked, "Was that thought ever a part of your motivations to be with me?"
Hermione jerked as if he'd just slapped her, "Absolutely not!" she burst out vehemently, "I want to be with you because I know you, and I like you, and trust you. You, not the Boy-Who-Lived, or Lord Potter, or anything else. I don't care about your money, or your fame, or-"
Reaching out, Harry placed two fingers over her lips before she could really get into her rant, smiling softly at her, "And that's why I have no concerns about you knowing what I have," he told her. "With just about anyone else, I'd be worried about why they wanted to go out with me. But not you. I know you'd never do that. I don't care what other people think. Let them think whatever they want. The only thing that matters is what you think, and what I think. Right?"
"And what if things with us get more serious?"
"More serious than contracts and what we've been doing?" he asked, smirking slightly.
She rolled her eyes. "You know what I mean, Harry," she muttered.
He leaned back, letting out a long sigh. "Yeah, I know. I honestly haven't given it a lot of thought, really. Marriage… that's not something I've ever considered. You're right, I'm too young to get married... and so are you," He shrugged, "Right now all I know is I'm enjoying being with you, and I can't think of us not being together in the future. But as far as defining that in concrete terms… I don't have much of a clue really."
Most girls might be disappointed to have their boyfriend not express their undying love during such a conversation. Hermione Granger, however, was not most girls as Harry had already pointed out in his own way. She knew that she felt something for him beyond anything she'd ever felt before… whether that feeling was love… the kind that could lead to a long and meaningful relationship, was completely unknown at that point in time.
"Personally, I still say screw what anybody else thinks or says," he continued. "We don't owe anyone an explanation or anything else. I trust you as my best friend, and as so much more than that, and that's the only relevant opinion we need."
She was smiling again as he finished speaking, she pulled him into a tight hug, wrapping her arms around his shoulders even as she buried her face against his neck, "All right. In that case I'd be happy to help if I can."
"Thank Merlin," he groaned, "I'm pretty certain this whole thing would likely give me the mother of all migraines if I tried to figure it out on my own."
She couldn't help a small giggle at the irritated look on his face as he glared at the folder as if it'd personally insulted him.
"Well, come on then," she said, "Let's go eat and then we can look it over."
"Why not just look it over now?" he asked, even as he let her pull him to his feet.
"First, I'm hungry. And second… do you really want to be sitting where Ronald could come by and question what we're doing? You know how sensitive he gets about money."
He scowled at that, absently tucking the folder into his robes. "Good point," he muttered in a low tone, somewhere between angry and despondent.
Hermione cast about mentally, searching for something she could use to distract him from those thoughts, she looped her arm through his and started toward the exit, pulling him gently along with her as she leaned closer to him. "I do actually have something that I need to tell you, Sir," she murmured quietly his ear. Pulling back, she noted him looking at her out of the corner of his eye, one brow arched questioningly.
"What's that?" he asked after they were far enough away from the portrait of the Fat Lady that the painting wouldn't be able to hear.
Quickly, she explained about leaving her plug out while taking her morning shower, and her reasoning behind it as they walked. She made sure to keep her voice low so that the various portraits they passed wouldn't be able to hear her, and finished while they were still barely halfway to the Great Hall. He spent the rest of the walk thinking, though he patted her hand where it rested in the crook of his elbow in a reassuring way, she assumed, to let her know that he wasn't upset with her decision or actions.
By the time they were seated at the Gryffindor table, with breakfast sitting in front of them on their plates, he finally turned to her, "I can't find anything wrong with what you decided to do, except for maybe asking permission from me before doing it. Obviously you won't always be able to ask about any little thing that pops up, like that, so let's just adjust your orders a little, you keep it out for showering or bathing. That way we avoid any conflict."
Smiling happily she nodded, leaning slightly into him for a moment, before she straightened up and started on her food. The rest of their meal was spent in idle conversation, Hermione sitting somewhat awkwardly beside him as she attempted to avoid placing any undue pressure on her plug.
For the first few minutes Harry only smirked each time she shifted about in her spot, but he eventually drew his wand and surreptitiously cast a cushioning charm at the bench beneath her while she was in the middle of explaining the dangers inherent in mistakenly applying a Runic Inversion in Power Matrices. To his pleased surprise, he actually understood most of what she was saying, and the two were soon involved in a debate that stretched the limits of his knowledge of Ancient Runes.
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Twenty minutes after they were finished with breakfast, Harry found himself pacing back and forth in front of the blank stretch of wall in the seventh floor corridor. The walk that had taken him fifteen minutes before when strolling casually along, had taken a bit longer as Hermione seemed to need to stop periodically. When he'd asked her about it she'd blushed brightly and mumbled something he couldn't hear. A part of him wanted to admonish her for not properly answering his question, but he decided to let it go since he was enjoying watching her attempts to act as if the plug in her arse wasn't driving her mad.
I just need to make completely certain that she's actually enjoyingit, he reminded himself as he pulled open the door that appeared in the wall beside him, If she isn't I may need to abandon the plug as part of this plan. Turning to Hermione he waved her in ahead of him and pushed the door firmly closed once they were both in the Room.
He moved past Hermione as she inspected the new design of a recreation of the corner of the Gryffindor Common room complete with the coffee table, sofa, and the large fireplace where they usually sat. Pulling the Gringotts folder from within his robes, he laid the banking report on the table and shrugged out of his robes, tossing them aside.
When she came over and sat beside him on the sofa a minute later, her own robes tossed next to his, she let out a snort of laughter and then blushed again under a curious look from him.
"Just a random thought," she muttered, her cheeks glowing. "It occured to me that it's a little strange not to be stripping off my clothes right now. I think I've spent more time naked in this room than I have actually remaining dressed by now."
"By all means, get comfortable… we'll probably be here a while." That said, he focused on the folder in front of him as he opened it, separating the various documents inside into different piles. By the time he finished and turned his attention back to her, she'd tied her hair back once again with a thin, black elastic hair tie she'd taken to wearing on her wrist, and her ribbon was wrapped around her throat, her blouse partly unbuttoned.
"Comfortable?" he asked, smiling broadly at her.
She flushed again, ducking her head slightly as her eyes remained fixed on the parchment on the table. "I figured being naked would probably be more of a distraction right now," she muttered. "Focusing on this is more important at the moment, isn't it?"
He considered that for a moment and had to admit that she was probably right. If she was sitting naked next to him it would definitely be much more of a distraction than they really needed at that particular point in time.
"All right," he said, turning back to the stacks on the table. "From what I can tell from the letter I received with this, we've got three different listings here. I apparently have three different vaults that I'll eventually be able to access. So this one lists money in my trust vault and the family fault," he lifted his hand from the first stack and moved it to the second, "properties owned and items that are in the family heirloom vault," he said, moving to the third stack, "and then businesses, investments and such. I was able to work out that much, but most of what it says is pretty much Greek to me."
He leaned back on the sofa, eyes never leaving the stacks of parchment. "The money is the easiest one, but I'm really not certain what it translates to, I mean… it seems like a lot of money to me but I honestly don't have the slightest clue how much a galleon is worth compared to pounds, so for all I know it could just mean comfortable and not wealthy… you know?"
"One galleon is roughly equivalent to about five pounds," she muttered, reaching forward to pick up the stack related to business listings.
Harry blinked, his head whipping toward her as he started attempting to do the math in his head. He gave up after a few seconds and decided to just classify things as, 'he didn't need to worry about money for a long, long while'… if ever. She noticed none of his initial consternation as she had her nose buried in the business listings, muttering quietly to herself as she read.
Some time later she placed the stack of parchment back down on the table, her gaze unfocused as she thought over what she'd just finished reading, and Harry looked up from the listing of properties and heirlooms.
"From what I can tell… well… I don't think you really need to worry about money," she muttered. "Your family didn't appear to be too heavily involved in business and investments, but it looks like at some point one of your relatives got involved in something that nearly quadrupled the Potter fortune and is still turning out a steady profit today.
"Going by the dates... I'd guess it was one of your grandparents, but it's hard to say. There's no names, no explanation other than a listing and sums of galleons going out and coming in. If I had to guess though, you could probably never work a day in your life and still be okay as long as you didn't spend recklessly."
"You sound upset about that," he muttered, noting the tone in her voice.
"Not upset," she corrected, sighing as she went to lean back in her seat. She paused mid way through the motion, her eyes widening before she shifted her weight, leaning more on her left hip as she moved.
She flushed brilliantly again when she glanced over and noticed him smirking at her.
"Hush," she muttered, causing him to laugh quietly. "I'm not upset it's just… you know this is only going to increase the rumors people are going to come up with, right? Even in the muggle world… a woman dating a rich celebrity, or someone like that, has all kinds of terrible things said about her."
"And I really don't give two shits what people say, Mine," he said firmly. "People have been talking about me since I came back to this world, starting before first year even. I'm used to it… but if you don't think you want to put up with it all… well I'll understand that."
"I didn't mean that," she assured him, reaching out for his hand with both of hers. "I… I want to be with you, I just… I didn't think you'd want to add even more scrutiny to your life."
"People are always going talk about me, there's no avoiding that. I hate it, but there's nothing I can do about it, right? Am I supposed to live the rest of my life not doing anything, just to try and avoid people?" He shook his head. "No… if people have a problem with who I want to date, that's their problem, not mine. They don't get to decide who I'm friends with, or who I want to be with."
He reached out and tugged her lower lip from between her teeth where she was nervously chewing on it again, ignoring the worried frown on her face.
"You know how much that distracts me," he muttered teasingly, his thumb brushing gently across her lip.
She mumbled something and he lowered his hand, moving closer to wrap one arm around her shoulders and pull her against his side.
"Long and short of it… money isn't going to be a problem going forward. That's encouraging. It's reassuring at least. I doubt I'd want to just laze around after I finish school, doing nothing, but it's good to know that I won't have to worry about being unable to afford food and clothes and such." He waved his free hand at the stacks of parchment. "All this aside though, it doesn't tell me anything about what Ron and Neville were saying; the whole Lord Potter business. We need to find someone that can explain all of that to us."
"Maybe we should talk to Neville again? We didn't go into much detail last time, but I'd bet he knows more," she suggested.
Harry hummed quietly as he thought that over. "Maybe Susan and Daphne too?" he asked. "They've both been pretty cool, and they're purebloods as well, they might have some more information on the whole thing."
They fell into a contemplative silence, both of them turning over things in their minds as they relaxed against each other.
"There's not much else we can figure out here, is there?" Harry eventually asked, gesturing again to the parchment on the table. When she shook her head, he took his arm from around her back, and leaned forward to gather the stacks together, tucking them back into the black folder, before setting it firmly aside and turning to face her.
"We'll worry about all that later, when we can talk with Neville and the others. Right now, I had something else I wanted to talk to you about, Mine."
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Her eyes widened, just slightly, at the shift in his tone, and her posture straightened a bit more. With all of her attention firmly focused on him, she didn't notice that the action pushed her breasts forward, spreading her partially unbuttoned blouse further to show the edges of the cream colored bra she was wearing. Focusing his thoughts for a moment, the coffee table in front of them started to shift and change, growing until it was just below waist height. He stood, taking one of her hands in his, and she let herself be urged to her feet as the sofa slid back and away behind them.
"I have a few questions that I need you to answer for me," he murmured in her ear, standing close behind her with the table in front between them and the fireplace. "A few of them are likely to be embarrassing for the both of us, but they're important, so I really need you to be honest. Do you understand, Mine?"
She nodded her head, "Yes, Sir," she whispered.
"Lean forward, both hands flat on the table."
Without pause or question she did as she was told, bending at the waist to place her palms on the table in front of her. Soon enough he had her feet spread just past shoulder width apart and he lifted her skirt, draping it across her lower back. A fierce blush colored her cheeks as that action completely bared her arse to his view, and the bright red gem nestled firmly between her cheeks.
"First," he said as the tips of his fingers trailed across her arse, "do you, honestly, want to have sex? I know we discussed it before, but I want to be completely clear that you're not at all unsure."
"Absolutely, Sir," she answered without any hesitation, completely certain that she wanted him in every way she could think of.
"Are you still a virgin?"
Her head whipped back over her shoulder, shocked cinnamon colored eyes meeting his and he immediately winced and corrected himself.
"Not that I have any reason to think you've been with anyone else, or that I think I'd have any right to be upset if you had. I just… I know enough to understand the first time is usually somewhat painful for a woman. I just want to know everything I can, since I'd really want your first time to be something you remember for good reasons, not because it hurt."
The initial anger she'd felt about him even asking that question subsided, slightly, but she was still a little annoyed that he seemed to doubt her. Looking back to the front she nodded again. "Yes, Sir. I've never been with anyone but you and… I'm fairly positive my hymen is intact."
He didn't say anything but she thought he might have nodded, his fingers never ceasing their constant roaming across the rounded globes of her arse. She couldn't hold back an appreciative hum at the sensation that turned into a startled squeak when he suddenly tapped on the end of the plug.
"Do you know of anything we can do to avoid getting you pregnant?"
With her cheeks burning she nodded. "I'm already taking a contraceptive potion," she admitted and felt him still behind her.
"Really?" He sounded surprised. "When did you start that?"
She lowered her head, letting it hang between her extended arms. "Over the holidays… when I was trying to research things at the Library… well my mum found some of the books referencing sexuality the first day," she explained, mortified to have to recall that particular experience. "She questioned me about it and I- oh!" She cut off in mid-sentence, her head coming up in surprise as he gently twisted the plug. "Oh holy… s-she decided I was fourteen and likely th-thinking about sex… so she wrote a letter to Professor McGonagall. When I first got back to the school on Christmas Eve she took me to see Madam Pomfrey, since mum wanted to make sure I w-was protected from any possible accidents. It lasts for three months a-and actually stops my periods entirely."
He hummed a wordless sound behind her, still gently twisting the plug back and forth as she'd been talking, and by the time she finished she was breathing heavily, her arms trembling slightly as she leaned against the table. Damn, that feels even better than when I did it earlier, she thought absently.
"Do you know why I wanted you to keep this in?" he asked, tugging lightly at the plug and her back arched, pushing her arse back toward him.
"N-no, Sir," she panted. Gods he's such a damn tease!
"I have a plan I'm working on, to be perfectly honest. A surprise for you… but this only works as part of my plan if you're actually enjoying it."
Am I enjoying it? she wondered incredulously as a small moan slipped past her lips.
She heard him chuckle quietly and groaned as he pulled the plug halfway out of her before pushing it back in. A moment later his finger slipped easily inside her soaked, puffy, cunt, gently rubbing against her inner walls for a few seconds before he pulled away, and she felt her skirt being pulled down again to cover her.
"Go ahead and straighten up, Mine," he told her. When she straightened and turned, it was to find him already sucking his finger clean of her arousal. She felt a slight pang of loss that she didn't get the chance to do it for him. The thought caused her to pause for just a moment in surprise. She hadn't thought too much about it the day before when he'd made her clean his hand. She'd even willingly grabbed his hand to clean it with her mouth after he'd finished eating her without a moment's thought.
I don't know if I was always this much of a pervert, or if I'm just discovering these things the longer this goes on, she thought.
He must have seen something in her expression since he laughed again after removing his finger from his mouth. "I'm sorry," he said, sounding anything but, smug smirk firmly in place, "Did you want to do that?"
Her cheeks burning with embarrassment, she could only nod. Merlin, I used to think the very idea was kind of disgusting.
He reached down suddenly, lifting the front of her skirt, and before she realized it, his hand was between her legs, fingers sliding easily across her soaked folds as he gathered the clear evidence of her arousal on his skin before presenting his hand to her. She immediately set to task, still unable to suppress a shamed flush at how eager she was to clean her mess from his skin.
When she finished, he moved the table aside and gestured to the floor in front of the fire. "Student," he told her, moving back to the sofa as she got into position, wondering all the while what was going on. Sitting on the sofa, elbows on his thighs with his hands clasped in front of him, Harry watched her for several minutes before he spoke.
"I want you to think very carefully before you answer this next question, Mine. Honestly, this should've been a discussion we had a while ago, and preferably not while teasing you since I really want you clear headed when you think it over, that's my fault. Should I wait and ask you later?"
She considered that for a moment. Was she clear headed? He'd only been teasing her for a few minutes but it had really gotten her going. Playing with the plug in her arse, and the way he spoke to her… teasing her about tasting herself on his hand. The pause he'd taken before speaking though, had done much to allow her to calm herself. With the plug it was likely she'd basically be slightly turned on for as long as it was in, but not enough to impair her thought process she felt.
"I think I'm calm enough to consider the question before I answer, Sir," she said.
He nodded and leaned back in his seat, his arms coming up to cross over his chest, brow furrowed in thought.
"I… I want your first time to be something special," he said slowly. "I've been considering different ideas but… well really I need to know what you're hoping for, or expecting. I mean… are you hoping for something more normal and… romantic, I guess, or something more in line with what we've been doing?"
First and foremost, Hermione had to force herself not to focus on the idea that Harry seemed to be telling her that he was planning their first time having sex. She couldn't afford to get taken up by those thoughts… not yet. She kept silent, thinking very carefully over her answer. What did she want, anyway? Yes, she'd had many a thought over sex and what it might be like. She'd never really imagined anyone specific before, not until the night Harry had refused to leave her thoughts before she'd gone home for the break. Since then of course, he'd starred in nearly every thought, or fantasy, she'd had that involved sex or their dynamic.
The problem is, since discovering this whole relationship dynamic, that's really colored all of my fantasies. Do I want something more loving, or do I want him to control me still?
She tried to imagine sex with a caring and attentive Harry, but found the idea to be less inspiring than she'd expected. Not that she didn't find him attractive, but the idea of him not simply taking control of her and ordering her obedience… it just didn't fill her with the same thrill or arousal.
She blinked several times, her eyes focusing on him where he sat on the sofa, bright green gaze never once flinching away from her. He was waiting for her answer, but she realized that he wasn't flustered or nervous. He'd asked her a question, and he wasn't worried over her answer, he just needed to know, as he'd said, since he wanted to ensure that she came away with good memories of the experience.
Just as a good Dom should, she realized. They were learning about each other, but there was still a lot they didn't know, and he was doing the smart thing, asking her directly instead of guessing. She was sure that, however things went, when they got to that point, that she was going to enjoy it, but if she was expecting one thing and he presented something else… that could be disappointing in a way, and would sour the experience for them both.
"Can I ask a question, Sir?" she asked, hoping to clarify one point in her mind before answering.
"Of course," he said.
"Why… are you asking because it will be our first time together, or because it will be my first time, period?"
His brow furrowed in confusion. "I don't understand what you mean," he admitted after puzzling over her question for a minute.
"If I were not still a virgin," she said, unable to keep a slightly biting tone out of her voice, "would you still be so concerned?"
Okay, she thought, I guess I'm still a little annoyed that he actuallyasked me that. Yeah, I don't think we ever expressly said it, but I thought it was pretty clear that we were each other's firsts for everything.
He winced again, though if it was due to her tone or the question itself she couldn't be sure.
"I'm not entirely sure," he said. "I'd like to think that I would be concerned about it whether it was your first time or not." He paused, his expression settling into quiet contemplation for a time. "Honestly, I think it might be a bit of both, really."
Now it was her turn to cock her head to one side in a questioning manner. "How do you mean?"
"Well… on the one hand the fact that you never have before means it's likely to hurt you, at least a bit. I can't possibly know how much or how little, but like I said, I do have a plan to try to help with that. On the other hand it will be our first time, and I want that to be memorable for us both for good reasons, not because it was awkward or embarrassing or something."
"So… you're not romanticising the idea of me losing my virginity?" she pressed and he shook his head.
"I understand that's something that most girls do. I never saw you as the type to romanticize much, though. You're too practical and level headed most of the time. Mostly, I don't want to assume that you might be looking forward to a more normal sort of encounter for our first time together and possibly wind up with both of us disappointed."
She nodded silently in agreement. She never really had been one to worry overly much about that moment. She'd read enough to understand that the first time wasn't usually a wonderful experience for the vast majority of women. The pain of a broken hymen was sure to distract from much of the possible enjoyment of the act. Harry being just as inexperienced, and young, meant he probably wouldn't last long the first few times either, so she really didn't have much expectation of some world shaking or life altering experience awaiting her. She knew it would take a few times, at least, before they would really be able to find their rhythm with each other.
She also understood that she was pretty damned lucky, having a partner that had obviously put a great deal of thought into this, and who was concerned for her and for how she felt. He'd even considered the possibility of her getting pregnant, something most boys wouldn't even think of in their haste to get to the act itself. In the end though, what did she want?
"I think," she said slowly, "it might be best to keep things as we have been. I feel I'm ready for it, but that doesn't mean I'm not nervous at the same time. I love when you control me, Sir. I can't deny that, even if I wanted to. Even in this, you still have that control. I still want you to tell me what you want, and I trust that you'll make the experience as good for me as possible." She gave him a soft smile. "I don't think you could do anything to really hurt me on purpose if you tried. You care to much, and I know you'll do the best you can."
Internally she was wondering about this plan he'd alluded to. He obviously had something specific in mind, and the questions he'd been asking were directly related to that plan in some way. Just as obviously, he didn't intend to share that plan with her, at least not yet, so she bit down on the urge to ask about it, and decided to simply wait for him to reveal it to her.
He nodded when she finished speaking, a look of relief passing briefly across his face before he sat up straighter on the couch. He glanced at his watch for a moment before he gestured for her to stand, even as he rose smoothly to his own feet.
"Turn around," he commanded once she had her feet under her; she silently complied. A moment later she felt him lifting the back of her skirt, a low moan escaping her lips as he started gently twisting the plug inside her again. He continued for several seconds, each movement of the plug sending pleasurable tingles through her body, until he started to pull.
Her mouth dropped open, a sharp gasp escaping her as the length of steel inside her was drawn slowly from her body, her hands clenched into fists at her sides as she did her best to relax her muscles in order to ease the item's removal. Moments later it was out and her skirt had been lowered again. When she turned around he'd wrapped the plug carefully in a paper napkin, setting it down on the table, and was in the process of gathering together their robes and the Gringotts portfolio.
"S-Sir?" she asked, a touch breathlessly.
"Breakfast is nearly over," he said as he held her robes out to her. "I know you've finished all your assignments for the week, so I think it'd be best if we track down Daphne, Susan, and Neville and see if we can't get them to explain all this Heir Potter stuff to us. If they're up for it we can do that until lunch, or until they run out of things to tell us, whichever comes first."
She nodded thoughtfully. "I'm fairly certain that Neville and Susan would be happy to help. Daphne, I'm not certain about. She is a Slytherin and likely wouldn't just give away information for free. She might expect something in return for helping."
Harry gave a careless shrug. "Won't know until we ask," he pointed out, pulling his robes on, and tucking the portfolio into an inside pocket. He moved back toward her and reached out to pick up the plug, still securely wrapped up.
"As far as this goes… you can leave it out while we're talking to Neville and the girls. On our way to find them you should clean it and before we go to lunch I want you to put it back. That gives you a few hours break."
"I understand, Sir," she said as she took the plug and tucked it away in a pocket of her robes. "There's a girls loo on this floor, we can stop on our way."
#####
Later that evening, Hermione found herself in the Common Room, sitting before the fire with one of her favorite books held open on her lap. Try though she might, she was unable to concentrate on the text as her mind mulled over the event's of the day.
After leaving the Room, they'd found Neville and Susan in the Great Hall and both had been happy to help educate them on the particulars of wizarding society. While Hermione had led the two to the Library, Harry had gone off to track down Daphne. When the two of them had arrived some ten minutes later, Harry informed her that she had been correct in her initial assumption, Daphne wasn't willing to do something for nothing, and would be holding onto a favor to ask of them in the future.
Hermione frowned, gazing sightlessly into the fire place as she considered that. She wasn't thrilled about the idea of owing an open favor to the blond Slytherin, but she did consider the girl a friend, or at the least friendly, and could only hope that she wouldn't ask for something too onerous.
Besides, she reassured herself as she carefully shifted her weight on the couch, it's not like what she did was really a huge deal. Any return favor couldn't be too big or it wouldn't be an even deal.
With that matter firmly settled in her mind, her thoughts turned to what they'd learned during their few hours spent chatting with their friends. She found herself more grateful than ever that she and Harry had started dating before she'd seen his Gringotts folder, or that afternoon's eye opening discussion. That wouldn't stop people from talking, or spreading rumors, but at least she could honestly say that none of that had any part in why she wanted to be with him.
The long and short of the situation, as they'd learned, was that before the founding of Hogwarts, giving the wizards and witches of the age a central location to learn and practice magic, the vast majority of magical learning was done by the parents of magical children, and then through the Master/Apprentice Model. The problem with that, was that most Masters would only take on a single apprentice at a time, and frequently those Masters focused their tutelage on the areas of magic where they were most skilled, leading to an unbalanced education.
This also left a large number of witches and wizards with little way to educate themselves past a certain point. The magical population of the day was widespread, and there were few, if any, established communities for the people to come together as a functioning society. With the founding of Hogwarts, and the possibility of a more rounded education becoming available to the average magical citizen, a number of families came together to help organize the magical populace. These families would become the first sitting members of the body that would eventually become the Wizengamot.
According to Susan, Neville, and Daphne, the Potters were one of those families.
The thought was mind boggling. To think that her Sir's family had helped to create British Wizarding Society… it beggard belief. As a result of that pedigree, Harry would have a seat on the Wizengamot when he came of age, as well as his family name holding a lot of sway in various political circles. And that didn't even account for the financial power that he would one day have at his command.
In short, he really would one day be 'Lord Potter', and it was not something that he could just wish away, or ignore as something that he hadn't earned for himself. It was a family legacy that he would have to shoulder, and however their relationship continued to develop, Hermione was bound and determined that she would be there with him, every step of the way, to offer her support.
A body suddenly dropped heavily onto the cushion next to her, breaking her from her contemplations as she barely held back a scream of fright. She jumped, book tumbling from her hands to land on the carpet before the fire. She spun sharply in her seat, ignoring the way her weight pressed down uncomfortably on her plug to come face to profile with-
"Harry?" she blurted out, staring wide eyed at him for a moment before her eyes suddenly narrowed angrily. "You. Scared. Me," she snapped, punctuating each word with a sharp slap to his shoulder.
For a moment he didn't react. Then, he looked down at the shoulder she'd hit as a wave of confusion washed over her at his behavior. Her eyes widened again and the air rushed from her lungs when he reached out and gently tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear.
Oh shit! she thought as it hit her what she'd just done. Without thinking she'd actually hit her Sir. Not hard or maliciously, but still…
"We'll discuss that another time," he muttered so quietly that she almost couldn't hear him. The shame and panic that had bubbled up in her chest vanished as she noted an unusual tone in his voice. Despite how quietly he'd spoken, to her trained ear, he was clearly agitated. She didn't think it was because of her, though.
"What's wrong?" she asked, concerned for him.
He was quiet for a time, staring pensively into the fire before he let out a heavy sigh. "I lost the map," he muttered.
She blinked in surprise by his answer. "Lost the-"
"Professor Lupin took it, actually," he cut her off.
"What happened?"
He sighed again, slumping down on the couch. "I was stupid," he said. "I've… I've been spotting a name on the map off and on for weeks now. A name that shouldn't be there."
"Weren't you saying something like that a few weeks ago?" she asked, to which he nodded a silent agreement.
"Yeah. That was how I spotted the two of us on the map that one day, I was looking for the other name that I'd seen before."
"Were you actually looking for Black?" she asked, suddenly worried about the impulsive nature of her boyfriend. "After the last time I really don't think-"
"Not Black," he cut her off again before she could really get going. "I wasn't looking for Black." He leaned forward suddenly, elbows resting on his knees and his hands tightly clasped in front of him. "I was looking for Peter Pettigrew."
Hermione felt her brow crease into a puzzled frown. "But… isn't he dead?" she asked. "I mean, he's the one that Black blew up, along with all those people…" She trailed off, unsure what else there was to say.
"That's what people say," he muttered, "but I saw his name on the map and it hasn't been wrong yet. I even asked the twins if it's ever been mistaken, and they said that as far as they knew it's alwaysaccurate."
Hermione's mind spun quickly, slotting new information alongside old facts to put together a new picture.
"If it's never wrong, then Pettigrew isn't dead. If he's not dead, then obviously Black couldn't have killed him. But if he's alive, where has he been all this time? And why wouldn't he have come forward?"
Harry shrugged. "No idea, but it makes everything that people sayhappened a bit suspicious. Add in that letter from Susan's Aunt… the 'irregularities' that she found, and it all looks even worse. Maybe… maybe there's more to this than everyone has been led to believe."
"That's typically the case with anything," she admitted. "There's nearly always more to the story." Reaching out she took hold of one of his hands, her thumb rubbing gentle circles on his skin. "Tell me what happened with the map?" she asked, bringing things back to the start of their discussion.
He sighed and leaned back in his seat, his body tilting naturally toward her, as if drawing on her presence in some way that she couldn't quite define. "I had just finished turning in the last of my assignments for the first term to Professor Babbling," he began. "I was on my way back here when I decided to check the map again. I found Pettigrew's name… according to the map he was down by Hagrid's hut so I decided to go take a look."
The last statement was admitted a bit sheepishly as he stared resolutely into the fire.
"Oh, Harry," she sighed. "If Pettigrew is still alive and he's been hiding all this time… he could be dangerous. He could be scared or desperate, and desperate people can do bad things." She tried very hard to not sound as if she were lecturing but there was no keeping the worry out of her voice.
"I know," he muttered, raking his free hand back through his hair in frustration, causing the already chaotic nest atop his head to stick out even more haphazardly than ever before. "I know that, but… I need to know, Hermione. I need to know what happened that night. Black and Pettigrew are my best chances to get any answers."
She said nothing but moved closer to him on the couch, offering what support she could without any words spoken between them as he continued his story.
"There's not much more to it," he said. "I was focused on the map, watching the dot with his name and I wasn't really paying attention to where I was going. I ended up running headlong into Snape."
She winced at that, and bit her tongue against the knee jerk reaction to correct his failure to use Professor Snape's title. "That couldn't have ended well," she finally said.
He snorted out a laugh. "Understatement. I'm surprised you couldn't hear him screaming for my expulsion from here."
"So what happened?"
"He snatched the map from me, luckily I was able to clear it just before he grabbed it so it was blank once he got his hands on it. He started trying to figure out what it was and eventually the Marauders started insulting him." He cracked a small grin at that. "I don't think I've ever seen someone turn that color before. Before he could really blow his top, though, Professor Lupin showed up. I'm really not sure how he did it, but he got Snape to hand over the map and took me to his office.
"We talked for a few minutes, mostly him asking where I found the map and then admonishing me for not turning it in since it could be dangerous in the wrong hands, according to him. The way he talked about the Marauders though… I asked if he knew them and he actually admitted that he did, he'd gone to school with them. He said that they would have found me coming face to face with Black extremely hilarious."
Hermione pursed her lips, completely unsure how to take that particular piece of information. From what the Weasley twins had said, the Marauders had been pranksters, practical jokers, similar to the two redheads. If they'd have found a potentially dangerous prank, like getting Harry face to face with a man that may, or may not, be a deranged killer, to be hilarious… she wasn't so certain they deserved the twins reverence of them and their supposed legend.
"Anyway," he continued, "the Professor kept the map. Before I left, I mentioned that I'd seen Pettigrew's name on it and he was pretty insistent that that wasn't possible, but he told me he'd look into it."
"That's good," she said, sighing with relief. "He's our Defense Professor, and he's been a really good one so far. I know you want answers, but don't you think it might be best to let the adults handle this? Black and Pettigrew, if he really is alive, could both be dangerous."
"I can't just sit around and wait for other people to figure this out, Hermione," he practically pleaded.
"I just don't want you to get hurt, Harry," she shot back as calmly as she could. "I can't imagine how hard this all has to be for you. I won't pretend that I can, but I can understand that it is actually difficult. Just… remember what I said about you rushing into things without thinking a plan through? This is exactly the kind of situation that I'd be most worried about." She pressed herself closer, wrapping her arms tightly around him as she pressed her face into his shoulder.
"Three years in a row you've nearly died," she whispered, fear and worry warring for a place of prominence in her chest. "I know you can't always avoid trouble, but please don't go looking for it when you don't need to."
Mentally she was begging for him to understand, pleading for him not to risk himself, for both their sakes. It gutted her everytime Harry was forced to narrowly escape an early grave, and she honestly didn't know if he threw himself into these situations just because he felt it was the right thing to do, to take action where others wouldn't or couldn't, or if he honestly just placed no real value on his own welfare. She didn't think that he actually had a death wish… but at the same time he never seemed to worry about his own safety.
She clung to him, almost desperately, as he sat in silence for several minutes, his body tense under her grip. Finally, after an indeterminable amount of time had passed them by, she felt his muscles relax ever so slightly and a soft sigh escaped him.
"All right," he muttered, "I won't go looking for trouble."
Her arms tightened around him, and she opened her mouth to speak, but he continued talking before she managed to get the words out.
"I won't go looking," he repeated, "but if something crosses my path I'm not going to run away either. Not if there's a chance I can do something. If I can get one of the professors then I will, but if the choice is trying to stop either of them or letting them escape…"
He trailed off into silence but the rest of the statement didn't need to be spoken aloud for her to understand his meaning.
She only hoped that such a situation wouldn't come up, despite their track record that clearly showed that exact scenario was far more likely to happen than not.
Well, if he's going to insist on being in danger, then I'm damn sure going to be standing right next to him, she thought as he wrapped his own arms around her and pulled her closer to him. There's no way I'm letting you get away from me Harry Potter. And, Sir or not, I'll hex you into next year if you try to keep me out of this.
They sat in silence for a while, students milling about them in that span of time post dinner but pre-curfew. The Common Room wasn't exceptionally crowded, but it wasn't empty either, and Hermione found herself grateful that they'd been left alone during their discussion and for the time since to just enjoy being together without distraction. At one point, Ron came down the stairs from the dorm he shared with Harry but he didn't approach them, instead moving over to the far side of the room where he talked Seamus into a game of wizards chess. She wondered idly if their friendship would ever return to normal. Thus far it didn't seem like things would improve, and she honestly wasn't sure she'd want them to even if Ron apologized.
She was drawn from her musings when she felt Harry lean down toward her and his breath suddenly brushed across her ear.
"I think it's time we addressed your actions earlier, Mine," he whispered as her body tensed and her cheeks warmed with a brilliant flush.
Oh, right. I hit him, she thought.
"I don't mind a playful slap now and then to an arm or shoulder. That wasn't playful though, was it?"
Shamefully she shook her head, her eyes directed at the floor where her book still lay after she'd dropped it earlier. "No, Sir," she whispered.
"Then you agree that you should be punished for that?"
"Yes, Sir," she murmured as calmly as she could.
He hummed thoughtfully for a moment, and she fought the urge to squirm in place, wondering what he was going to do to her. Her eyes darted around the room, taking in the students present as a thrill passed through her. There they were, sitting in a fairly public location, and their conversation was going completely unnoticed. The chance that someone might catch on was slim, but it existed, and she felt herself getting wet over the thought of them being caught.
"I think... for hitting me earlier... I want you to masturbate for me, Mine," he whispered to her and she nodded immediately.
"Yes, Sir," Hermione said, starting to get up from the couch, but was restrained by Harry's arm where it was still wrapped around her.
"No, Mine... here..."
Hermione gulped, here? she thought. Merlin, he wants me to-
"Hesitation... will be punished."
That short sentence was spoken in a harsh whisper and she bit back a yelp when his arm shifted and he suddenly, painfully, pinched the side of her left breast.
"'When given an order by the Dom, the sub is to respond quickly and without hesitation or question'," she quoted their contract and settled back on the couch, her right side pressed tightly against him. A quick glance around showed a blanket folded and laying across the back of the couch and she grabbed it, quickly unfolding it and spreading it out across their laps. She pulled up the blanket so it was over her left shoulder, hiding her arm entirely.
Once hidden from a casual glance, she twisted slightly, pressing her back more toward her Sir, left leg stretched out along the couch and her right foot resting on the floor as she pulled her skirt up beneath the blanket and let her fingers slide across the already swollen and damp lips of her cunt.
She wasn't even a little surprised to find how wet she already was and let out a shaky breath as small jolts of pleasure shot through her body. Honestly, she wasn't sure how this was supposed to be a punishment but she was going to follow her orders as best she could.
"You know you messed up," he said casually as she stroked herself beneath the blanket. "To make sure you learn your lesson though, you're going to continue what you're doing until I tell you to stop."
That doesn't sound like much of a punishment, she thought as she slowly sank a finger inside her body. His next sentence, however, made it crystal clear just what her actual punishment was going to be.
"You are also completely forbidden from cumming at all tonight. Do you understand?"
She couldn't cum? At all?
Eyes wide, she stared up at him for a moment, looking for some sign of how serious he was, and she found only the calm and controlled face that she knew meant he was completely serious. For however long he had her sitting there, playing with herself, she absolutely could not go over that edge that she was already rapidly approaching.
"I understand, Sir," she whimpered, desperately holding back a moan of mixed pleasure and disappointment as she thought, this is going to be an extremely frustrating night.