Bonds of Affection

Harry left the Headmaster\'s office and went to find Hermione immediately. She was found in the library, unsurprisingly.



“What does Wailing Willow Bark do?” Harry demanded, without any preamble.



“I have no idea,” she said simply. “Willow Bark is something that provides pain relief – but I don\'t know what a Wailing Willow is – or where one can be found... why?”



“What is the age of consent in the wizarding world?” Harry asked, instead of answering her question.



“Consent for what?”



He swore under his breath. Did he really have to spell out everything? She looked up at him, saw the desperate look in his eyes, and smiled sheepishly. “Oh. Well it really depends. On the age difference, on whether any aspects of the relationship can be deemed exploitive, on whether or not one person is in a position of authority over another...”



“Say, worst case scenario,” Harry said casually. “Age difference, exploitive aspects, and authority...”



“Well, then, Harry, it simply can\'t happen...” she looked at him thoughtfully. “Are you being pressured into something? Is someone trying to hurt you?”



Only Voldemort, he almost said out loud, but bit his tongue just in time.



“Hermione,” he said quietly. “I am going to ask you a hypothetical question. You have to promise me not to freak.”



“I promise,” she said uncertainly. “What is it, Harry?”



“What would I need to do in order to enter a consensual Master/slave relationship with my professor, without getting him fired, murdered, or sent to Azkaban?”



He gazed at him with her eyes wide open. “Harry! Who is it?”



“It\'s a hypothetical question,” Harry said with a grin he hoped was coming across as mischievous and light-hearted.



“I am sure,” she said dubiously. “Why do I have the feeling that I will regret answering this question?”



Harry rolled his eyes. “Don\'t worry, I won\'t do anything stupid. Just tell me.”



She thought about it for a minute. “Well,” she said finally. “You would need to become legally emancipated. Since you are an orphan, and sixteen years old, that shouldn\'t be a problem for you – just a matter of filing appropriate paperwork. Then you would need to withdraw from school.... ending the teacher/student relationship between you and whoever you want to be your... partner.”



Harry almost laughed out loud, but forced himself to keep a straight face, listening. She continued:



“Then, I suppose, you could get married - and being married would move the controversial relationship into a private territory... and finally, once you are married, you could return to school. Nobody could do anything then... Other than give you really weird looks for the rest of your time at Hogwarts.”



He reached out for her and kissed her cheek firmly. “Thanks, Hermione,” he said. “You are amazing.”



He was just about to leave when she grabbed his shirt and pulled him back to sit down again. “Not so fast,” she said dryly. “If you want me to help you ever again, you will tell me what is going on.”



Quickly and reluctantly, he explained the situation to her. She listened quietly, without interrupting. Finally, when he finished, she reached to his forehead with her hand. “I think you\'ve gone completely insane,” she said sadly. “Must be the belated stress of heading Dumbledore\'s Army this year. I\'d better take you to the Hospital Wing.”



He smiled a little. “Have any better ideas?”



She nodded with conviction. “Let Dumbledore figure this one out.”



Harry smiled more. “What\'s there to figure out? Either I drink it, and Snape lives, and we have our spy; or I don\'t, and within half a year, both Snape and Dumbledore will be dead.”



She looked at him hesitantly. “Harry – let me ask you one thing. Is this something that you would ever choose for yourself... if not for Voldemort – and so on....”



“I don\'t know,” Harry said. “Maybe – but I don\'t think so.”



He knew he was gay, beyond a shadow of doubt, and did Hermione and Ron - ever since the kiss with Cho under the mistletoe resulted in utter disaster. That wasn\'t the problem. He\'d even had some fantasies in the past – mostly bondage – being tied up. He kept his mouth shut about them – he was not really keen on being teased mercilessly by the entire Slytherin in case someone found out that the Boy Who Lived wanted to be topped. Harry figured, once he graduated, once Voldemort was dead, and once everyone forgot the legends and the prophecies, he\'d focus on looking for a partner who would be compatible. Key-word, compatible. Not someone who despised him. And not someone who would make his life hell, if he were to give up any measure of power to him.



Hermione watched him with concern. “Do you think Snape is attractive?” she asked.



“Sort of,” he managed to say weakly. “There were times when I had almost had a crush on him – when he wasn\'t a complete bastard.” But those times were few and far between, and each time, the fragile crush would disintegrate after a particularly unfair detention, or a vicious, spiteful comment.



She gazed at him thoughtfully. “You\'ve already made up your mind, right?”



“Yeah,” he said quietly. “I\'m going to wait though, until the week is almost over – maybe we\'ll think of something else. Meanwhile, can you find out what Wailing Willow Bark does? I\'m not too keen on drinking something with an ingredient nobody knows anything about...”



“I want the full list of ingredients,” she said firmly. “I want to research how they will interact with each other, too.”



He handed the parchment to her, and she smiled at him. “I\'m very proud of you, Harry. Actually thinking before acting!”



“You\'ve been a good influence on me,” he said quietly and hugged her. “So say – will you help me get emancipated?”



“Against my better judgment.”



Five days passed, and with Hermione\'s help, Harry was legally emancipated. That felt great – and his first action as a legal adult was head to Hog\'s Head and get completely drunk on firewhiskey. For the next day, he regretted his stupidity, until Hermione found him and cast a few spells that cleared his hangover and left him feeling almost human.



He looked at her apologetically but she just shrugged. “If I were about to become Snape\'s slave voluntarily, I\'d be drinking heavily, too,” she said sourly. “By the way, no luck with the Wailing Willow Bark. I\'ve even owled to other schools, and to St. Mungo\'s – nobody knows. Nobody had even heard of a Wailing Willow before. Some people are guessing pain relief...”



Harry snorted at the thought of Voldemort putting a pain relief ingredient into anything Harry was meant to drink.



“I don\'t think so either,” she said softly.



He looked at her in amazement. He was surprised at how well she was taking it. He had expected her to argue a lot more. He told her and she nodded.



“I know,” she said softly. “But at least this way, Voldemort won\'t have a reason to kill you. As far as he\'s going to be concerned, you\'ll be under his servant\'s control... this will give us some leeway, buy us some time.”



They stood together quietly for a few minutes. Harry watched her with sadness, wondering how the slave-bond would affect his friendships. He opened his mouth, wanting to promise her that nothing would change between the three of them – or perhaps, to ask her to make that promise to him – but then just shrugged, and said nothing.



After all, promises were only meaningful when one had the power to keep them.