Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. Seriously.

A/N: Written for hogwartsvixxxen at femmefest.

A/N2: As always, review please. Even if you have already at the fest, it's nice to get reviews here as well!

Rowena must have thought it all a game.

What else could it be? We barely ever exchanged words - not even when she stroked me just so, pressed me just so, nothing beyond unimaginative variations of monosyllabic words of request. We tangled and twisted together, enough that the sheets always started to feel like a hangman's noose. We would lie together, side by side, but never in one another's arms - wet, hot, ragged: spent, in the best and worst possible meanings of the word.

In truth I was growing addicted. Whatever this was we were playing at, involved in - I kept coming back for more. All that was needed was one little sign and I would definitely come running. It was certainly pathetic, but when Rowena touched me, ink-stained fingers over woollen clothes, I could close my eyes and pretend it was something more. If she were to know the romantic that I truthfully was, she would probably scoff and tell me to stop dreaming. Though to open my eyes and leave this pleasant, make-believe world would be such a cruel punishment.

Henry's proposal came out of the blue and felt like a smack to the face - a wake-up call I was not anticipating. I told him I would think about it, but I knew whatever my decision might be in the end, my parents would make sure it was 'yes' that I would say to him. I was approaching my late twenties and Henry was making a decent living for himself and whatever family that would come after. It certainly would not occur to my parents to be concerned about the fledgling school I had recently founded nor would it bother them that Henry and I barely knew each other. It was enough that Henry came from a good family and that he was a good wizard overall. It certainly would not cross my parents' mind that their prized daughter was mad - mad for a witch out of all the people in the world.

I decided not to tell Rowena anything. What good would it do? I tried to keep my distance from her and it actually seemed to be working out. Salazar and Godric did not notice anything. After all, Rowena and I had done such an admirable job of keeping the 'relationship' a secret to start with. They did notice that we seemed to be avoiding each other (at least, I was avoiding Rowena), but Godric was too tactful to say anything and Salazar could not be bothered enough to worry. All the while, Rowena fixed me with an expression I had never seen on her face before: something between anger and disappointment, or perhaps an emotion I was altogether unfamiliar with. It left me uneasy, restless, but unbearably hot. I had never before realised that it was possible to literally thirst for another person's touch. You read it in stories all the time, but the moment it happens to you ...

I was up late one night to work on the paperwork. Salazar had no taste for mundane tasks, Godric had not the aptitude and Rowena thought it was an insult to her intelligence. So it was usually left to me to pick up the odds and ends. Not that I minded in the very least - especially lately. It gave me an excuse to put off answering Henry and it provided a convenient excuse to keep Rowena away. She had been giving me the sign and I had been ignoring her. I knew firsthand how fearsome Rowena could be when she was angry. Salazar did not keep clear of her for nothing.

So when my office door opened with a slam and a clearly irritable Rowena appeared in the doorway, I could not say I was really surprised to see her. The only surprise was that it took her this long to snap. It had been nearly two weeks since we last saw each other. We never really saw each other outside of our 'sessions.' Whenever we did spend time together, it was always in the company of others. When it was just the two of us, we never ever got around to talking.

"Rowena."

"Congratulations on your engagement." She sounded bitter. Or maybe I was too hopeful.

"I have yet to say yes."

She clicked her tongue and closed the door behind her. "Are you going to then?" She was twitchy and she was starting to pace.

I stood up. Her nervous energy was getting to me. Ah, and I was almost finished with the paperwork too. "I am not sure."

"Do not make him wait. Henry is a good wizard. He is unquestionably dull but he has his uses."

"It is just like you to judge a person by their utility."

"I never judge you by that." There, the expression she had been directing at me.

"What do you mean?" I had not realised she had come this close.

"I never judge you by your utility." Her voice had gentled and it finally drew my eyes away from her face.

"What do you judge me by then?" I resisted the urge to meet her halfway. Let her come to me for once.

She bit her lower lip and extended her arm across my desk. I dug my nails into my palms and leaned forward. She cupped my cheek and pulled me forward slowly. I never knew her to be this gentle before. I had loved her when she was the right amount of cruel. I did not realise before there was another side of her that I could still love.

"Undress," she whispered just before her lips met mine.

My eyes flew open and I stared at her as if I had not heard her. I knew she knew I heard her just fine.

"You heard me," she said persistently, putting a little bit more pressure on my cheek. "Do not make me say it again."

I nodded and pulled away. She straightened, turned around and went to sit down on the armchair by the fireplace. I could tell she was watching even when she fixed her eyes on the flickering flames, paying attention to the rustle of clothing as they fell off me one by one. By the time the last article of clothing hit the floor, my breathing had picked up pace.

"Come here."

Like a well-trained pet, I obeyed.

"Kneel."

Again, I did as I was told.

She surged forward then. Her lips crashed onto mine and a ragged moan barely escaped my lips before her tongue met mine. She was more aggressive than I recalled - and it inexplicably turned me on. In the days that I restrained myself from going to see her, I had imagined her countless times, in various scenarios, in increasingly more daring positions - for if we were unbearably monotonous in our schedule, we were surprisingly inspired in our 'sessions' - but even my daydreams had not prepared me for what she had in store for me.

"Look," she said, pressing something cold against my lower back. "I borrowed this from Salazar," she continued, pulling me up and then pushing me down on the armchair she had vacated. I looked down to see what exactly it was that she had borrowed from Salazar. Before I could lay my eyes on it, she had waved her wand and a blindfold had wrapped itself securely around my eyes.

"Rowena!" I complained.

"Be quiet."

And I was. There was a metal clink and I was made aware of what exactly it was that she had borrowed from Salazar. Ankle-cuffs. I tried to move my legs but found them comfortably secured to the armchair. A shiver ran down my spine. I could not distinguish whether it was fear or excitement I felt.

Rowena leaned against the inside of my thigh and breathed against the sensitive skin there. "Do you trust me, Helga?" she asked in a soft voice.

"I do," I ventured carefully. Or maybe I did not. I could not be sure of myself in Rowena's vicinity.

"Then try not to make a noise." She pulled my arms up and behind my back so that my chest protruded before slapping a pair of handcuffs on my wrists. "You are mine, do you understand?" she whispered in my ear. "You are bound to the armchair. In your own office. With cuffs I had borrowed from Salazar." She giggled childishly at this point. "With your legs spread out." She brushed almost carelessly against my pussy. I shivered again. "And your chest thrust out." She ran her knuckles simultaneously over my nipples. They stood to attention almost immediately. "You are at my mercy, are you not?" She pulled at my nipples with her index fingers and thumbs, twisting them before releasing them.

"Y-yes," I gasped.

"Why did you not tell me about the proposal?" she asked. There was an obvious petulance in her tone.

Since I could not think of anything to say, I kept my silence.

Rowena must have taken it as a sign of disobedience because she pulled more forcefully at my nipples.

"I-I'm sorry." It was the first thing that popped to my mind.

"That is barely enough. I thought you hated me. I thought you had grown tired of me. Have you any idea how miserable I had been these past weeks?"

No, I had no idea, but I could assure you I was just as miserable.

"I am going to punish you thoroughly. For ignoring me, for keeping a secret from me," she continued, pulling away from me. "I will make it so that Henry is the furthest thing from your mind. You are mine."

The sudden cold air left in her wake ... was an unexpectedly unpleasant sensation. She had blinded me so that I was aware only of her presence. I could feel the rough graze of the armchair, I could hear the crackling of the fire; but I could not feel nor hear her and that was the worst.

"This may hurt a little. Will you trust me?" she finally said after what felt like ages.

"Of course," I said without thinking. I never really put in much thought when it came to Rowena. If I had, we probably would never be in this situation to start with. If I had, would it have hurt less?

"Helga, I love you," Rowena whispered.

I wished I could see her right now; see her as she said these words. What kind of expression would she have right now? If 'jealousy' was what she had been showing these past weeks and 'ecstasy' was what I was used to seeing when we were together, would it be 'love' on her face when she confessed these feelings? Before I could be distracted any further, Rowena had pressed something into me, filling me. There was a split second of unbearable pain, then it was over and pleasure, as I understood it with Rowena, took over. Her skilful fingers glided over my most sensitive spots, driving me crazy, much crazier than I had ever been before. The wet sounds of her hips grinding into mine, the familiar press of her curves into mine, the warmth of her most private parts: the things that I had missed the most during the days I had gone without her.

I had known that I was in love with her, oh so mad for her. I was so afraid to give voice to the feelings. I know not what went on in Rowena's mind. She was always stoic, with a sharp tongue and a sharper mind. She intimidated me in the daylight, truth be told, but still I loved her. In the dark, however, wrapped in the shadows, when I could not tell where she started or where she ended - I loved her even more. So as I struggled against the cuffs to hold her even closer to me, close enough if possible, against my beating, naked heart - that the barriers of skin could be pushed through and our two hearts merged into one, I allowed myself to drown in all that was Rowena, in her possessiveness, in her aggressiveness, in her tenderness too often misunderstood.

"Helga," she panted against my shoulder.

She sounded adorably vulnerable at the moment - even with me being the one at her mercy, even with me being the one bound down and unmoving. She was pumping harder and faster, pinching my nipples and biting at my rapidly pulsing vein. "I-I'm -" I could barely finish my sentence. There was a painful ringing in my ears and tears threatened to spill. I was immensely glad for the presence of the blindfold.

"M-me too!"

When we finally came together, it felt like climbing up a crest before crashing back down to earth, completely shattered and completely revived at the same time. It was not to say that all our previous encounters had been strictly carnal in nature - they simply felt like they paled in comparison. I thought I understood passion. I was sorely mistaken.

Rowena removed my blindfold and kissed me finally for the first time that night. She bit my lower lip, as she was wont to do and then demanded entrance as imperiously as her personality had always been - and as was in my nature, I obeyed.

"Rowena," I said when we finally parted. "I love you too," I said rather shyly. These words I had always whispered to myself in my mind, I decided I liked the taste of them rolling off my tongue.

She blushed at the statement and slowly began to sit up.

I looked down to see what it was that she had put inside me. I had some sort of an idea of what it could have been but seeing it with my own eyes was certainly ... an educational experience. "Wait," I said before she could pull out of me completely. "Let's go another round."

"My, my, are you not bold tonight?" she said, smiling but obliging. She leaned in for another kiss but quickly pulled away and turned her head to look at the door.

I had heard the door opened as well and now saw what Rowena had seen first: Salazar and Godric standing petrified in the doorway.

Salazar snorted. "I told Godric you two would not be stupid enough to start a catfight." Then he turned and left, but not before raising an eyebrow at the cuffs and winking at the two of us. Godric opened and closed his mouth – much like a puffer fish. He finally settled for a vigorous nod and a goofy grin before blushing and turning around in a rather mechanical fashion. Then he came back almost immediately to close the door behind him.

"You should have locked the door," I admonished Rowena. She had obviously come with the intention to have her way with me. The least she could do was make sure we would not be interrupted.

"But where is the thrill in that?" she teased. "Now, we have a long night before us. I have hot wax, a whip, leather accessories -"

"Rowena!"

"Let's put that mouth to better use."