Dux et Supplex

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Chapter 1: New Discoveries

Everything's always more painful in hindsight. Realizing you should've listened to your parents when you started that 3 month relationship and they told you not to date that boy who's now denying your child...Realizing you should've walked those extra few steps to grab that book you now need for class...Realizing that that hoodie you saw at Macys wasn't really all that cute and you shouldn't have stolen it to wear to that party. Yeah. Hindsight sucks. It nags and nags about the past which only reminds you how stupid/unfair life/God/whatever is for not offering an oh-so-helpful little rewind button. Life lessons and all that, right? Well Hermione Granger's learning a life lesson right now. It's called, "hide your crap somewhere safe!" And the hindsight? It's made more painful by the fact that this little mistake's thrown her down a manhole, covered it up, and left her there to die. And no...Brilliant witches don't get a rewind button either. So here's the beginning of her tale: The Epic Misfortunes of Hermione Granger

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"'Mione, love! Where are you?"

In hindsight: She shouldn't have worn headphones

In hindsight: She should've locked the door

In hindsight: She should've checked the time

In hindsight...She should've been more careful.

In hindsight............She should've told the truth.

Hermione sat on the ground, and stared at the door; shock neatly taking her breathe away. Her eyes, fleeting, glanced from the magazines scattered on the floor before her to the door.

"Ronald! Um..."

Her hands, the nails of which were painted a vivid crimson (one of her lesser favorite colors), moved in panic across the floor. She was like a criminal hiding incrimination evidence. The pages held tightly to her chest, her cheeks flushed, her chest heaving...

"What are you hiding?"

Frightened eyes wandered in search of an excuse. Something believable. Something he wouldn't care for. Something like...

"Wedding magazines! Yes...um...I've been looking for wedding dresses, and...you know...I've circled a few. I just don't want you to know what my choices are, I guess. Not to mention, I'm sure you think I'm being silly considering our wedding's more than 8 months away."

Her chest which beats frantically begs for him to leave, begs for him to once more not care.

"Well...um..."

The guilty look on his face mocks her. How many times has she scolded him for not caring enough? How many times has she inwardly complained of her dissatisfaction. She prays for him to ignore her words, but it seems the Gods mock her for her selfishness.

"Let me look. I mean...Maybe I can give my opinion or..."

"No! I mean...Really, you don't care. Plus, a groom must never see his bride's dress until the wedding day, right? I have Ginny and Luna coming over to help me later. Ginny's fashion sense is always rather good and you know...Luna's rather good too, so I should be alright."

"But I wanna..."

"Ron! It's alright. It's...Important to me that you don't look."

Ron seemed to stare at the magazines in her hands and she tried to cover as much of the back as she could with her palms. She felt disgusting doing this. He must've seen something, because the next moment his eyes were narrowing in contrast to hers which were widening. Before she could bolt for it, he was walking towards her and she'd frozen in panick. She clenched at the magazines as he tried to rip them from her hands. Like opening a present, he saw glimpses that only made him pull faster and her grip tighten. Eventually, though, his strength was too much. He pried her arms open and one of her secrets splattered to the floor. For the moment he didn't bother with the others. He snatched up that one and stared at it in eager disbelief.

"What...I...Hermione?"

She didn't bother hiding the others. She opened her arms and just let them fall out. Just as eagerly, he looked at them too.

"Ron, It's not what you think."

His disbelief turns to stare her in the face, and she winces before its bold glare. Her heart which was beating before, suddenly goes missing into her stomach, and tears pop up at her eyes.

"Is this why you've been so...dissatisfied?"

The disgust pains her. At his insistence, she nods despite not looking him in the face.

He steels his face and grabs all her magazines; summoning the rest from beneath the mattress. He looks almost disgusted that such..."literature" had been beneath his resting place; possibly warping his dreams. Then he looks at her, and the disbelief returns. It's almost too much. She can see it in his face. Calmly, he turns around and walks out the door with her not-so-little secret. The dirty secret. The one she's kept for years while pretending to be someone she's in all essence, not. The slam jars her ears and the footsteps are like a deathmarch for their relationship. She simply stares.


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In the end, their relationship had ended, but violently. Ron couldn't understand it. It disgusted him and when the newspapers asked about the reason for their breakup, he told them. He told them everything; including how she tried to hide it behind a false mask and her slender fingers. He even told of how she'd lied about them being wedding magazines when the only thing remotely matrimonial in them had been bonding ceremonies (ceremonies which Ron had called immoral). When the paper hit the stands, she received mixed responses. Some people cursed her out in disgust, and others...others wanted to comfort her in her time of need. The ministry which wanted nothing to do with the bad press was relentless. When she came in to work the next day, her name had been removed from her door, and her position as liason between Muggles and Wizards given to someone else. Still in shock, they had to escort her. Their only kindness had been allowing her to use the floo.

She could barely cope. She was stuck in her little house, unable to go outside for fear of paparazzi throwing themselves upon her for a story. Amazingly, however, no one came to see her. Not Ginny...Not Luna...Not Molly, and not even Harry. Harry, however, wasn't a surprise. For a month, he'd been on his last auror mission; having quit one month before. She wasn't eager to see him, though. She was fairly sure his reaction would be similar to Ron's. Most of her days were spent sleeping or reading, and with each demeaning article, she could feel the walls closing in more and more until her house became absurdly small and all she could do was think about what had brought her to this moment in her life.

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When Hermione was born, her parents noted she was an absurdly submissive child. She rarely cried, and she always ate what was given. When put to bed at night, she would wake up in the middle and instead of crying, simply amuse herself till her parents awoke. When Hermione was a baby, her mother was eternally grateful for her daughter's unusually agreeable behavior. When Hermione grew to be seven, however, and the behavior continued, her parents became more and more displeased. You see, Hermione's parents were the type of people who had strong convictions and expected their children to have them too. For example, Hermione's father was strongly homophobic and could not accept even the most bisexual of people. Hermione's mother while not necessarily homophobic could not really understand it and so avoided the topic altogether. No...Hermione's mother instead, was an extreme feminist who despised all women of a submissive nature. So imagine, when she saw this tendency in her daughter; someone she hoped she would raise to become the pride of feminists everywhere. She was extremely upset and constantly scolded her daughter for even the tiniest sign of submission.

Hermione grew up with the distinct knowledge that there was something wrong with her; that being herself was something bad. To please her parents, a young Hermione molded herself a mask she would take off only in privacy. She became the confident, assertive, intellectual young woman her mother wanted her to be, and locked away her shy, agreeable, submissive nature. Frightened that her classmates would scorn her like her mother did, Hermione took her mask with her to school. Meanwhile, submissive Hermione was cultivated beneath it in privacy. When beginning to discover herself as a sexual being, Hermione walked into Florish and Blotts and found a book on bondings and saw one for submissives and their dominants. It fascinated Hermione because it was, deep inside, what she wanted. She bought the book and ordered the magazine subscriptions in the back. Soon, she came to amount quite a collection of texts on the subject of submissives. The more she read, the more she discovered there were others like her with the same inclinations. At least there were enough to have books written about them. Despite this comfort, she was keenly aware of her parent's disapproval. She was also aware of her classmate's potential disapproval. Too often, Hermione has been the butt of everyone's jokes. She kept her magazines in her magically secure trunk.

In this way, she continued her life, but like many secrets, hers didn't last. She left her trunk open, and her mother found her stash. You would think she'd found a dead body the way she hollered. After that, her mother stopped trusting her, and Hermione decided she needed to do something drastic. She needed to find a boyfriend who would be easily manipulated. Someone inferior to her. She hated it, but she chose Ron. It was always easy for her to boss him around. It was disgusting, actually. She was forced to give up on the man she loved desperately in order to pursue him. It was long and difficult, but eventually, she got her shield, and her mother's scathing glares faded into the occassional suspicous glance.

In her adulthood, her mask became the root of everything in her life. Her relationship, her career, her aspirations...But she never forgot her true desires. They were always lurking beneath the surface, and she took liberties where she could.

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Now it's all gone; her whole life vanished within three days. She's not even upset with Ron anymore. She's just lonely. As much of an oaf he was, he was company.

One week later, she was forced to purchase a house-elf to do her shopping. Four weeks later, the newspapers finally stopped talking about her, but she didn't dare hope people wouldn't point and stare. She was slowly adjusting to this new normal where she woke up, eats, cleaned the house, and read for a couple hours. Most of her day was occupied trying to keep busy. On the Tuesday of her fourth week, there was a knock on her bedroom door.

She panicked. Had someone snuck into her house? She didn't feel the wards dropping. She paused and waited. The knocking continued for a while.

"'Mione! I know you're in there! Wake up!"

Hermione gasped when she heard Harry's voice floating through the door. She practically ran for her wardrobe.

"C-C-Coming! Just...Getting dressed!"

From outside the door, Harry could hear the slamming of doors. What was she doing in there? Hiding murder evidence?

"I'll be downstairs!"

Harry didn't go far before the door was yanked open and Hermione appeared before him. He took in her appearance. Her heaving chest, her ruffled hair...her cheeks rosy with exertion. All he could do was look away in embarrassment.

"And here I thought I was over that."

"Harry!"

Hermione ran and practically flung herself at him, which wasn't the best thing to do at the moment. He tried to focus on things to lower the tension downstairs, but all he could think of were her warm arms wrapped around his neck. Was that...wetness on his cheek?

"Hey! Um...Hermione?"

Quietly, he listened to her sobs, worrying about what exactly he'd done wrong.

"You came! Even after everything you..."

She curled into his hold and Harry's grip tightened. The need to protect her came over him, but it was stronger. Like she was fragile; a word he always hesitated to use with Hermione.

"Hey, hey," he whispered gently. "What's wrong? Why wouldn't I have come?"

His comfort only encouraged her to cry harder. Hermione distinctly acknowledged that Harry had come here right after his mission. He'd not yet read the news. Those...Stupid articles."

"Oh...Just..." Hermione sighed and pulled herself from his arms. She did not want to be within firing range. "Come with me, I guess."

Green eyes took in her slumped shoulders and lit with suspicion. When they entered the living room, she pulled out an old Newspaper article from a locked drawer and handed it to him as if the world was suddenly slipping onto her shoulders. He gave it a cursory glance, taking in the odd title before turning to look back up at her. She fidgeted beneath his glance. She wanted to leave. He could tell, but he wouldn't let it happen.

"What's this?" Harry's voice was calm with a hint of sharpness lurking beneath.

"Um...It's an article from...from while you were gone." She fidgeted.

"And what's it about?"

"It's a lot."

"So summarize."

With narrowed eyes, his gaze hardened as hers slid away. He gave the article another cursory glance. He grabbed her wrist and dragged her down the stairs. She would not escape. Whatever this was, he would handle it. He deposited her beside him on the couch and held onto her wrist while he read. She squirmed so wildly, he had to transfer his grip from her wrist to her waiste, but it didn't help. Finally, he grabbed both wrists, pinned her arms to the couch and glared directly into her eyes.

"Stop. Squirming!"

She cowed beneath his glare, but he could still see that flightly look. In his frustration, he grabbed the telephone wire, ripped it out of its place, and tied her hands behind her back. Then, he threw her over his lap and pushed his elbows down hard to further emphasize that his command was never up for discussion. She was so shocked it never crossed her mind to fight him. Harry took the moment to read the article.


WAR HEROINE A CLOSET PERVERT!?

Dear readers, I have just discovered disturbing news! Yesterday evening at 8 pm, I was just about to leave my office when war heroine, Hermione Granger's ex-fiancee, fellow war veteran, Ronald Weasley requested an audience. When I tell you, dear readers, of his words, you will imagine my surprise and amusement. He informed me that war veteran and resident prude, Hermione Jane Granger, was nothing more than a closet pervert! I nearly laughed in his face. It seems only yesterday, I wrote my first of many articles on the bookworm. She came off quite firm and innocent. My exact words, I believe, were "bossy," and "prudish;" A girl I believed to have a stick shoved so far up her arse, I could see it peeping up her throat. If only I'd seen through the rouse.

A couple months before their wedding, Mr. Weasley came home from work to find his fiancee missing from the main portion of the house. After a dutifully thorough search of the house, he found her sitting on the floor of a room, reading magazines. When she looked up and saw his face, he described her appearance as skittish; panicked. Her hands quickly grasped at the magazines surrounding her and pressed them to her buxom. After a struggle, Mr. Weasley grasped one of the magazines and read. The cover said it all: BDSM Weekly. There were articles in it such as "Rewarding your Slave," "Inspiring Obedience," and "Workshops for Dominants and their Submissives."

Here, Harry smirked and glanced at his friend. Amber eyes were hidden beneath bushy brown hair. He continued.

Mr. Weasley stated, "I was shocked to see the whole affair carried so seriously. The business like titles and the professional-sounding articles made the whole thing seem legitimate, but the pictures told the truth. Women hanging from the ceiling...Girls on their knees tied to the floor with their breasts jutting out. I think that one was about how to effectively restrain your 'submissive.' I don't know why they didn't call them what they were. slaves. In private, the magazine writers probably consider the women filth. How Hermione could..."

Mr. Weasley burst into tears, but there was a sneer of disgust on his face. He expressed that the most painful part was that she lied. He thought she was the woman of his dreams. Little did he know she was just a 'perverted bitch.' I personally forgive Mr. Weasley for his behaviour. His crass words were those of a man in pain.

My attempts to contact Mrs. Granger have been rebuffed, but I will not give up. Despite my doubts of her having anything redeeming to say for herself, it's best to be sure.

Until then,
Reporter,
Robert Danensheld


When Harry finished the article, he had to have read it at least three more times. He just couldn't grasp that his straight-laced friend was sexually adventurous. Then, he couldn't grasp that his straight-laced bossy friend was into bondism. But then again, she could be a dominatrix. That would fit the whole thing better. He looked down and saw her eyes tearing up.

"'Mione, stop crying. I'm not upset."

"Thank you, Harry, but you don't need to lie to me."

Harry just huffed in amusement.

"I'm not lying. You know I can't lie. Not about something as big as this. If I was disgusted, I would've given off some kind of instictual reaction."

She shifted carefully, peering up at him from under her fringe. It was adorable and odd all at the same time.

"So then...how do you feel about this?"

Harry stared at the article for a moment. To Hermione, he seemed to be reading it again.

"I don't know. 1/5 of me is confused, another fifth amused, another fifth curious, but there's an entire 2/5ths of me that's furious. Not furious with you, of course, but furious with Ron for being a narrow-minded blabber-mouth and that stupid reporter for being a perverted moron with no sense of decency."

"Perverted?"

"He lusted after you, but he thought you were too prudish, so he didn't make the effort."

Hermione blushed and turned to stare at the floor.

"So is this the real you? What about house elves and all that? I have to admit that I'm having some kind of identity crisis right now, Hermione. What the hell is going on?"

So Hermione told him everything from the beginning. Her mother, her apprehensions...the horrid demise of her rouse...Harry listened to it all with rare interruption. At the end, all he could say, was:

"Wow."

"Wow?"

"Yeah. You're mother's a bitch. No offense."

Hermione was so horrified at this blatantly disrespectful, yet accurate, description of her mother that she burst into laughter.

"What!? It's true! She's made you feel bad for being yourself. She's probably one of those feminists who believe men should be holed up in farms and treated like cattle."

Hermione laughed harder. It was true!

"So how deep is this? Are you just a really kinky submissive, or are you into the lifestyle?"

"You can't just change the topic like that! I'm still laughing!"

Harry huffed and waited till her giggles died down.

Honestly! It's like she hasn't laughed in years. "Are you done, now?"

She stuck out her tongue, sending Harry into a tailspin of thoughts far from appropriate.

"The lifestyle, but I haven't really experimented or anything, so I don't know what I do and don't like. I just know what does and doesn't look unpleasant. I have hoped to find a permanent dominant, however. Sometimes I just feel so lost that my attempts to place some control over my life becomes overzealous. I just wish I had someone to take over, you know? Someone I can trust. Someone who will love and understand me. Are you really okay with this?"

"Well I've kind of been hiding a secret too. I'm interested in the whole scene as well, but from the other end of the spectrum."

Hermione's mouth hung open for so long, Harry was forced to click it shut.

"You're a dominant!? Since when?"

Harry's chuckle was deep and held a hint of danger.

"Since always, I guess. I was always so frustrated with my place in the war. The power wasn't flattering, because I couldn't use it. I was always under someone else's thumb and it frustrated me more than I thought normal. Then I started having all these weird, sexual dreams. When I graduated, that three month vacation was actually me going to a workshop to understand this new part of me."

"Wow."

"I know! Those were my thoughts exactly. So you see? I can understand where you're coming from. A little bit, at least.

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By the end of the night -- after they'd finished re-connecting and Hermione managed to convince Harry killing Ron was not absolutely necessary, would not serve as proper justice, and would only result in him going to jail -- Harry ignored his reservations and invited her to live with him in his home.

"It has to be better than living here all alone. Plus, you can be who you are without worrying about anything. Not to mention, It'll give me time to get to know you. It's weird that I've known you for seven years and yet...don't really know you..."

"I don't know..."

"Please please please!?"

Hermione snorted at the childish begging.

"Are dominants allowed to beg?"

"Oh, well I reserve my full dominance for when I have a submissive."

"And have you ever had any submissives?"

Harry turned contemplative.

"Yes. A few, but none of them worked out. Some were a bit too demanding for me. I want the lifestyle, but they wanted me to dictate everything from what they'll wear to what they'll plant in their gardens. A teensy bit of independence would be nice. Then some wanted a casual relationship. They didn't know how to listen, and I'm not all that interested in breaking in a submissive. Training is one thing, but breaking one in is another. You have to want to be a submissive. I don't want that whole intentional dubious consent thing either."

"intentional dubious consent?"

"Mmhmm. It's when a submissive fights you, but doesn't fight you as hard as she necessarily could. It's like a game. The submissive gets a thrill from being forced and yelled into submission while pretending she's not interested. Sounds like rape to me."

"That's odd." and hot........in some ways.

"It is, but to each his own, I suppose. I met one or two of those along the way."

"Are they common?"

"Um...Common-ish."

Hermione gave an amused snort. "I see." Hermione did not miss her previous attraction to dubious consent.

"Umm...Perhaps the whole...umm...dubious consent thing...isn't so bad?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well...Perhaps the thrill does not come from being forced, but from the strength of the force. I imagine that there is something alluring about the physical strength of a dominant; allowing yourself to feel weak."

"I don't understand what you mean."

Hermione blushed.

"For example...An incident occurred when I was about sixteen-years-old. I was upstairs reading when my mother called me for dinner. I was running through the second floor when my father suddenly turned the corner. I didn't stop in time and ran right into him. Father wasn't physically affected by the experience. I, on the otherhand, bounced right off and fell flat on my arse. He bent to help me up, of course. As I stood, I suddenly realized my father was a full two heads taller than me and his shoulders impossibly wider. He lacks a wrestler's build, but he was muscular nonetheless. I stared in amazement and disbelief. It sounds ridiculous, of course, but..."

Harry smiled.

"No, not ridiculous at all. I think I get it. When you bounced off your father, you realized the difference between your physical strength and his. Him towering over you as a man, you got this temporary thrill." Harry's smile turned devious. "For a little less than a minute, Hermione Jane Granger lusted over her father."

Hermione was horrified over his words, but did not take them too seriously when she heard his chuckling.

"I did not, you filthy beast! I...was merely impressed by my sudden discovery on the topic of his physical prowess."

Now, it was Harry's time to snort in amusement.

"Whatever you say. Now answer the question!"

Hermione gave a frustrated glance in Harry's direction. He just quirked up an eyebrow. She looked around her impossibly small house and knew that reporters were outside it at all times of the day. Could she continue to live like this? Locked up in the house without any company?

"Alright, then. I'll come live with you."

"Great! I'll help pack."

Hermione was baffled as she watched him practically skip up to her room. How Harry ever became a dominant, she'll never know.

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AUTHOR NOTE: REVIEW, my pretties...REVIEW!! Review and sooth my soul!

I have to tell you now that this chapter is the longest it will probably ever be. If you would prefer them to consistently be this length, then I can only post, give or take, once a month. Otherwise, I will keep up a length of half. If you want to judge how much that will be, then copy and paste the chapter into notepad at a format of Times New Roman -- Regular -- size 10.

I'm cool with whichever option pleases my readers. :)

Hope you enjoyed!