All characters appearing in any of the stories posted here are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. I do not, in any way, profit from any story posted here and that all creative rights to the characters belong to their original creator(s).
This is not an instruction manual for BDSM. This has BDSM elements, it is NOT an example of a D/s relationship. This is just fantasy. I'm not the expert on these types of things.
Excerpt: 'The Taming of Laurasia Tippit' page 3 written by Livius Uffindell
[ … at her parent's Manor, he watched her from the shadows as the mass of Wizards danced and spoke pleasantries. Her head tossed back with laughter, her pale neck exposed for all to see. She exuded innocence and joy, but she could not mask the mischief in her smile, the twinkle in her soft green eyes. Pheobus gripped his glass tighter. He wanted her. Wanting her more than anything.
She would be a challenge this much he knew. He knew of her reputation of quick temper and lack of propriety.
He would enjoy that part very much.
Miss Tippit had never been a very a terribly obedient girl, choosing to embark on many occasions with her brother and his practice with a sword. Neglectful of her place and position in life the girl often ignored her betters and had even once used foul language in front of her guests. A truly willful girl with the fire of three grown men.
Pheobus Belby would very much enjoy bending her to his will. His body tightened with need as he stared at her through the dimly lit room.
Yes, he would indeed relish in her descent into sin. ]
Chapter One: To Intrigue
It wasn't as hard as you'd think to adjust from a life of war and death and running for your life to a life of hot cocoa on chilly autumn days and reading a good book. At least, not for Hermione Granger.
Maybe that was just something inherently her. The curly headed bookworm had gone from a war heroine to not seeing any sort of dangerous action in five years. For Hermione, those five years passed by in the blink of an eye. It felt like only yesterday that she was smacking Ron on the back of the head and ordering him to finish his assignment, rolling her eyes at Harry as glared at the Slytherin table.
The war was over.
School was over.
Before the war, if anyone had asked her what her plan for life was she could politely explain to them that she would be Minister of Magic by the age of 25. She would have shown you the chart she'd drawn up explaining exactly how she'd get there.
But 5 years after graduation Hogwarts, her life looked nothing liked she'd imagined.
Her past self would have gone apoplectic at her new life, but she rather liked her life. Sure she had noticed a bit of distance between herself and some of her friends, but she still had Harry and of course little Teddy. She had her bookshop, which she had purchased on a whim two months after the final battle, she had her health and she had... well, that was all she had
Never the less, she was content.
Content as she was, she couldn't help but feel that something was missing. At first, she thought it was just the lack of some dire situation in her life, and then she thought, maybe it was Ron.
She and Ron had been together for a year and a half when things just... stopped working. They had still laughed at each other's jokes and he never forgot to close the toilet lid. It was the lack of passion. They had sex often and it was...
It was all very straight forward with Ron in that sense.
She'd been bored...
She had felt restless in the everyday normality that she'd settled into.
Their split was amicable and they remained friends, just not as close as they use to be, and for that Hermione felt sad. She'd never wanted to lose the close bond she had with Ron, after everything they'd been through, after losing so many people in the war. But that was life. People grew apart, people changed.
Today had been a good day at the shop, a few teens had congregated in the corner where the big red and gold comfortable chairs set, and she'd sold several books that she'd thought would stay in the shop forever.
Yes, it'd been a good day.
It was closing time, the street was dark and she could only see a few people milling down the cobblestone road of Diagon Alley from the windows of her shop. It was a late Tuesday in November, far too cool for her thin white blouse and gray skirt but Hermione loved that outfit and wore it often.
Watching as another wizard passed her shop without stopping, she flicked her wand and the drapes closed on each of the windows. It was late and she was tired.
It was time to go home.
With a sigh, Hermione ran a hand across her brow and tucked a wild curl behind her ear, her right hand lifting her wand to set the wards.
She had a large class of cheap wine and a hot bath with her name on them back at her flat. A quick Nox and the candles extinguished. She headed toward the back of the shop to grab her purse when a loud cry caught her attention.
Dropping her bag she instantly gripped her wand and raised it out in front of her and sprinted to the back door and peeked out. The years of war, of 'constant vigilance' never quite leaving her.
At first, all she could see was dark shapes moving quickly in the back alley, not really making anything out, she squinted against the darkness and pressed her face closer to the glass.
It was a violent scene that her eyes adjusted to. Three men stood over a figure on the ground kicking out hard against the man. They didn't aim, just landed blows where ever they could reach. Sick thumps echoed through the alley as beat the poor man.
Hermione gasped and spun around. "Expecto Patronum!" she whisper shouted and spoke to the little iridescent otter, "Harry, at the shop, someone's being attacked in the alley!" She sent the Patronus to her best friend and Auror. The little otter wisped away and she spun back around and threw open the door.
She might be a little rusty, but she was sure she could take them with the element of surprise.
"Aguamenti!" she shouted before a jet of water flew at the attacker closest to her. She knew in this cold weather, the water would feel like ice. She quickly shifted to the other two and two quick, "Petrificus Totalus! Incarcerous!" and the two gaping men were down, one bound, the other completely still.
Turning her attention to the gasping man on the ground she dropped to her knees. "Sir! Don't move, help is on the way," she tried to press him back to the ground when he made a move to sit up and he groaned. Her hands jerked back. "Where are you hurt?" she asked and felt stupid for the question, surely the man was hurt everywhere with the vicious way he was being kicked.
"Ah!" cried out a familiar voice, obviously in pain. He turned his head and the top part of his coat which has hidden his face revealed white blond hair, and then a young angular face. Her eyes widened.
"Draco, don't move," she tried to coax him once again to lie still. His head fell back against the filthy ground and his face screwed up in agony.
"Ge-get me to St. Mungo's, one of the g-gits stabbed me!" his voice was hysterical her face blanched. She heard movement behind her and the first man that she'd sent water at was struggling to his feet.
"Traitor!" he snapped sluggishly before Hermione flicked her wand at him.
"Incarcerous!" she shouted again, this time with more anger. She turned back to Draco and grabbed hold of his hand and apparated straight away to St. Mungo's lobby.
They'd popped in with a crack, Draco on the ground, Hermione over him pulling his coat apart to find the wound.
"I need help, he's been stabbed!" she shouted and she could hear footsteps freeze and then pick up faster. She looked back down and just as she spotted the two inch wide wound on his side people were upon them.
The healers made quick work of levitating him to the bed, diagnostics running quickly in glowing text and charts hovering above him. She made a move to follow when a voice stopped her.
"You can't go with him, you need to wait for the Aurors," she spun around and a woman that reminded her much of Poppy Pomfrey stood there with a a firm look etched across her features. "Someone will come and let you know," then the woman's face softened a touch as she glanced down for a moment and then back up, "You can wait in the waiting room, but you should probably take care of that," she nodded down to the smears of blood on Hermione's hand and with that the woman moved around her and turned down the corridor that Draco had been taken.
Suddenly feeling bereft and unsure Hermione bit her lip and turned around to be slam right into Harry.
"Hermione!" his voice was worried as he pulled her in for a tight reassuring embrace. She leaned into his chest for just a moment before he pushed her back, holding her by the shoulders, dipping his head down to look at her, "are you okay?"
"Yes, I'm fine," she nodded "Did you get them? There were three of them." her voice anxious as she hoped to Merlin that they hadn't escaped. She hoped Harry had been too long and the vermin were still there, and see his quick nod she relaxed.
"Oh, yeah, Ron, Steven and his partner took 'em and I wanted to come check on you," he smiled a bit pulling her back in for a hug before he laid his slightly stubbled chin on the top of her head.
"Good," she whispered, thinking back to Draco's pale face as he moaned in pain. She shuttered when she thought of that awful looking would on his stomach and gripped Harry harder, "It was Draco," she told him and he pulled back a surprised look washing over his face, his thick brows rose.
"Draco?" he repeated and she nodded. He was quiet a moment before his face twisted into a hard mask of anger, "Goddamnit! We thought we'd gotten them all!" he pulled away from her completely and ran a hand through his messy hair, "How many were there? Did any of them get away?" he questioned and she sighed as she shoved her wand in her sleeve.
"Three, none got away," she told him and he nodded.
"I have to go down and tell them it still isn't over, " he told her grimly before giving her a quick kiss on the forehead. "I'll send word to Malfoy's father," he let her know.
"Good, I don't think he'd want to hear from..." at Harry's look she stopped talking and cleared her throat, "Give Teddy a kiss for me," she tried to smile. He nodded and was gone.
Taking a deep breath Hermione moved to the other end of the large room and took a seat in one of the hard looking wooden chairs and put her head in her hands.
She'd never gotten along with Draco in school but she'd seen him a few times in passing in Diagon Alley and he'd even once came in the shop for a book. No one deserved to be attacked like that and the people behind the attack angered her more than anything.
For the last year attacks against Pure Bloods had been on the rise. A few letters from a group calling themselves 'Fresh Bloods' had been sent to the 'Daily Prophet' calling on wizards to half blood, and muggleborn alike to make sure that 'Pure Bloods' could never do what they had in the war, despite the fact that many Pure Bloods fought on the side of the light. The Fresh Bloods called for the exile of Pure Bloods.
No one really thought anything about it, just the crazy ramblings from a group of unhinged people, to desperate and caught up in their hatred.
That was until they started to attack Pure Bloods.
At first, it was Death Eaters that's escaped prosecution, it wasn't until a nice Hufflepuff two years ahead of her was attacked and hospitalized at St. Mungo's before her family took her and fled to France.
It was like a complete reversal from the prejudice of the war. So scared of the Pure Bloods that had caused harm in the name of Voldemort and purity, that some became what they hate.
The Fresh Bloods have the Pure Bloods enough reason to justify, in their minds, their own hatred.
A vicious circle that she wasn't sure would ever end if the Wizarding world couldn't progress.
Three Pure Bloods total had been killed and the Ministry played politics for while before the Aurors finally rounding up the last group just last week.
Or they thought they had.
Perhaps she and Harry were jumping the gun. Maybe it was just a simple robbing. She shook her head. No, what was it he had called her?
A shiver passed over her shoulders and down her spine.
Would there ever be a time of true peace? Or would everyone always find ways to hate and hurt?
"Where's my son?!" A deep voice boomed across the cavernous room, snapping Hermione's head up.
Standing at the desk, his cane clenched tightly in his fist, stood Lucius Malfoy. Tall and lithe his spine stood rigidly, his pale blond hair a long screen of silk falling down his back, his legs planted firmly as if daring anyone to move him. His face, Merlin his face was like carved stone all hard angles and sharp lines of an angry, avenging angel.
A nurse made her way slowly to the man a look of apprehension on her pretty young face. Hermione had already stood and started to make her way to them.
"Sir, when the healers are done someone will be out to let you know," the young nurse told him as bravely as she could. Of course, the woman would know who he was here for.
Everyone knew the Malfoys.
"I want answers now!" he seethed, his cane thumping against the floor in his anger
Hermione quickened her pace catching the nurses attention, the woman smiled. "Miss was the one who brought him in, I'm sure she can explain what happened," she said shooting an apologetic glance to Hermione.
"Mr. Malfoy," she greeted as evenly as she could, his bright gray eyes snapping to her, narrowing in recognition.
"Miss Granger, Potter's little friend," he sneered, "Why was my son with you and what happened?" his mouth pinched as he barked the question.
Hermione took a deep breath to quell her agitation, and remembered the man's son was attacked. He was worried.
"Three men attacked him in the alley behind my shop, he was stabbed," she told him upfront and watched his throat muscles work, his Adam's apple bobbing for a moment, his jaw ticking.
"Will he live?" his voice was flat and Hermione flinched.
"I'm not a doctor..." she trailed off unsure of what to say, "but he was awake, alert, and aware," she felt foolish for her words but for some reason, she wanted to... what? Make him feel better? Hermione bit her lip and pushed back a stray curl behind her ear.
Mr. Malfoy nodded raised a pale brow, "What happened?" he demanded once more, his voice sharp. "To them.."
"I subdued them and the Aurors took them away. Harry's gone now to.." she trailed off unsure of herself. Should she tell him she and Harry's suspicion that it was part of the 'Fresh Bloods'?
"To what?" he snapped and shifted closer.
"We think they were Fresh Bloods.." she trailed off and watched his face slip into a mask of rage.
Mr. Malfoy raised his chin a bit and sneered at her and she fought off frustration and a bit of fear at the imposing figure he made standing over her nearly six inches.
"I suppose you think this is our comeuppance, no?" he accused, his eyes sparking and turning an icy gray. Hermione grit her teeth and shook her head, glaring at him.
"No. No one deserves this," she said firmly, "The Fresh Bloods, their objectives... their actions... they are no worse than Voldemort," she said passionately. And they were to her. She had no sympathy for the Fresh Bloods and their methods, or anything about them really.
He glanced down at her hands and froze momentarily. She followed his gaze and cursed herself internally. She'd forgotten to get rid of the blood. A quick 'Scourgify' and she cast an apologetic glance at the older man.
"How very Hufflepuff of you, Miss Granger," he sneered down at her.
"How very human of me, Mr. Malfoy," she returned and watched his eyes narrow for a moment before he sniffed and tapped his cane against the floor.
"Miss Granger," he nodded, his tone and face melting away to his normal supercilious tone, and walked away from her.
Hermione huffs and looks around the room, noticing several pairs of eyes. As she looks at them they look away and she flushes lightly.
Scratching the back of her neck lightly she sighed in agitation and walked quickly through the lobby and out the doors into the frigid November air.
What a bloody night!
A week had passed and she'd heard from Harry that the three men were, in fact, Fresh Bloods. Hermione wilted a little when he'd told her that one of the men had bragged that there were still some they hadn't caught.
This mess never seemed to end.
Harry was so upset with the fresh blood propaganda that was going on. Angry that these people had once been people that had backed him. Needlessly, he felt blame for their actions. But a kiss from Teddy and night alone with Theo and Harry had been back to his happy, determined self.
That had been a surprise in itself. Not the gay thing, of course, Hermione knew that. Theo and Harry had seemed to pop up out of nowhere. Ron hadn't been too pleased that his best friend was dating a Slytherin, but Harry had only given Ron a shove to the shoulder and told him to 'piss off' before rolling his eyes and Ron had avoided talking about it.
Hermione didn't care.
Harry had gone through so much in his life that if he'd fallen for the late Professor Snape she wouldn't have cared. Theo and Harry had a nice casual air about them and Hermione hoped it would only last.
There was the added bonus that it kept Harry preoccupied and not harping on her about her lack of... well life.
She knew it was only with love that he worried for her but she really enjoyed the shop. She enjoyed her time with Harry and Teddy, and she loved her time alone. She'd gone on a few dates after her split with Ron, but nothing that ever moved past the first date, and after a while, she'd gotten tired of the whole 'dating' thing.
A nice book with Crookshanks cuddled up on her lap was all she needed.
Of course, sometimes the loneliness got to her. Especially when she thought about her parent who was forever lost to her.
She'd been able to find them after the war, but nothing could return their memories. She'd tried every expert and nothing could be done. It was really on the holiday's that she felt down, but other than that she was okay.
Hermione had always been one to adapt well.
Sighing to herself, Hermione placed another book on the shelf from her box of new arrivals when the little chime above her door sounded and she turned to the front of the shop with a smile on her face in greeting only to freeze. "Mr. Malfoy," she couldn't keep the surprise from her voice, wrapping her arms around the next book to be shelved. "What can I do for you?"
He stood there, his prideful eyes taking in his surroundings before sauntering across the creaky wooden floor to her "I wished to express my gratitude to you, Miss Granger," he inclined his head a bit, his gloved hand resting on his cane.
Hermione's eyebrows shot to her hairline.
Lucius Malfoy was here to thank her?
She never thought she would see the day when the prideful man would thank anyone for anything. She vividly remembered him from her school years. The stern, angry man that hated her best friend. The man that had treated poor Dobby so poorly. And then, even more, she remembered his pale drawn face, dark purple bruise like smudges beneath his glassy red eyes as he stared at his wife's dead body at the last battle.
In his anger and grief, his haughty pride had remained.
"I-" she started to say but stopped as his gloved finger rose from his cane as if to halt her speech.
"Thank you, Miss Granger, for the aide you've given to the Malfoy family," he nodded his head and she nodded back.
She'd had no choice really. She hadn't even known it was Malfoy.
"I would like to repay-" he started pulling out a coin purse, but she froze and her eyes hardened.
"I don't want anything!" she snapped, the grip on the book in her hands tightened. He must have seen the fire in her eyes and taken the hint not to argue.
She didn't want his money for being a decent person.
He nodded his head and she calmed. "As you wish," he drawled.
It was quiet a moment before she remembered his son. With a gasp, her brow furrowed a bit, "How's Draco?"
"Draco is better. He will make a full recovery," he said politely and Hermione's widened at the semi-friendly tone.
Lucius Malfoy had just spoken to her... without sneering.
First a thank you, and how this! Harry is never going to believe this!
Maybe the world was changing.
She felt relief knowing that Draco would be okay, there had been too much death already. And honestly? She didn't think the younger Malfoy was all bad.
She remembered that last year of the war and his appearance. He'd looked so broken. So helpless. The anger she'd always felt for Draco began to change to pity that year.
"That is another reason I've come. He is missing his wand and thought it may be behind your store..." he trailed off and cocked an eyebrow at her.
"Oh! Yes! I'd completely forgotten!" she cried and pushed the laid the book down on the stool to her left, "I'll be right back," quickly she darted to the back of the store cursing herself. How could she have forgotten that she'd found his wand the next day. She'd meant to take it back but she'd been swamped with the new shipment of books. On top of that, she had watched Teddy for Harry so he could have a nice out, just him and Theo. Draco's wand had completely slipped her mind.
She was becoming scatterbrained as of late.
Grabbing the wand from the drawer in her office and sprinted back to the front. "I'm so sorry!" she said as she skidded to a stop in front of the older Slytherin and held it out to him.
Strangely his face had changed in the brief moment she'd retrieved the wand. Now he was smirking.
Uneasiness washed over her for a moment. She almost backed away at the predatory look on his face. One of his pale fingers trailed over the cover of the book she'd laid down just a moment ago, his eyes had sharpened.
"Hmm," he drawled as he accepted the wand and slid it inside his coat. He held the book in his hands for a moment, glancing between it and her with a peculiar look on his face. With a raised eyebrow he handed the book back. With a blush, she noticed what book it was.
'The Taming of Laurasia Tippit'
Hermione flushed scarlet.
"I would never have thought the perfect Miss Granger would ever read something so..." he trailed off, his gaze taking in her red face and neck. His smirk widened, ".. naughty," he almost purred the word and Hermione's eyes widened.
"No! I'm not! I mean, I just... " she trailed off flustered.
"Yes, Miss Granger," he teased.
"I haven't read it. I just... want a wide variety in my shop," she finished and scolded herself. She sounded like a misbehaving twit getting caught doing somethi-
She cut herself off on that thought but the word 'naughty' floated through her mind unbidden. She looked down and clutched the book to her chest.
"A variety, indeed,"
She would not look at him. If she did she would surely die of embarrassment.
She really hadn't read the book before, though she knew it was a rather risqué piece of erotic fiction written in the early 1900's. She'd never been comfortable reading such things. She could read an anatomy book just fine, but put something like her grandmothers' dime store trashy romance novels in her hands and she would turn scarlet.
It's not that she was an innocent virgin, she scoffed to herself.
She and Ron had had plenty of sex during their year and a half courtship. Once, they'd even done it on the couch!
Hermione cringed to herself. she knew that they'd had a lack of passion in that regard, but a little bit of herself was afraid it wasn't their chemistry... maybe it was just her.
She knew what kind of things everyone had said about her in school. 'Know it all', 'prude', 'up tight twit'...
She winced a bit thinking back to some of her Hogwarts years.
A clearing throat pulled her attention and she looked, wide eyed at Mr. Malfoy as he looked down at her, curious.
"Have a read, Miss Granger," he said, his lips pulling up before turning around and strolled out of her shop.
With the book pressed against her chest, he exhaled and gulped. Tossing a looking around she warily opened the book to a random page and started to read.
[ she laid there, spread out and open before him. So pliant and soft. So exquisitely his. Pheobus' body shuttered as her naked thighs, so pale and open strained against the ropes that he had secured around each thigh, and then to the corresponding wrist.
"Please..." she whispered "Please, sir!" her voice begged him and he wanted nothing more than to bury his aching member in her warm wet-]
Hermione snapped the book closed and flushed from her hair to her toes.
Clearing her throat she turned to place the book on the shelf, the edge of the book hit the wood and she stopped.
Surprisingly, her hand held the smallest tremor. She looked down at the innocuous cover of the old book and shifted on her feet, an uncomfortable, yet familiar feeling growing in her stomach.
Swallowing thickly, she pulled the book back and walked to the back of the shop and shoved it in her bag.
Maybe she would read it just so she would know what it was about. Knowledge was never a bad thing. Of course, she wasn't interested personally in what was written. She just wanted to know from an academic standpoint.
She would read The Taming of Laurasia Tippit'.
It was just a book.
What harm ever came from reading a book?
A/N: So, this is my first multi-chapter HP fic so I'm hella nervous. I just want to let you know before going in that this will not be 100% accurate to the BDSM lifestyle as I don't know all the intricacies of the lifestyle. This is just a way of expressing some fantasies after a rather strict religious upbringing. This is in NO way a guide into this life, just my weird thoughts. Also, things will move fast in this fic, and while there will be plot there will be a significant amount of smut. If this bothers you, I'm sorry. Also, I write to have fun and to stay sane while raising my little dude, not to 'become a better writer' or anything. I'm not going to become a professional writer so two pages of correcting my grammar/spelling aren't necessary.
I hope if anyone reads this they enjoy it. Leave a review if you wish :-)
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