Alright Guys, its me, again, on my new account. I've hit writers block on my other fics, so I started posting this fic I wrote a couple years ago. It is an eventual H/Hp pairing, but in the beginning Harry is just madly in love with Hermione, and she slowly reciprocates his feelings. It is Bottom!Harry, and there will definitely be lemons. There may be BDSM, but I am unsure. If there is, it will be a Sub!Harry and a Dom!Hermione. The more I write this, the more sure I am it will be BDSM. Whatever, lets just get on with the show. Oh yeah, if I owned this, Harmony would be canon, and the T in Voldemort wouldn't be silent.

Harry's footsteps were all that accompanied him on his long walk to his Lord's office. They echoed around the corridor, repeating over and over. Harry was lost in his thoughts, not the inane thoughts of your average teenager, but thoughts of new spells, thoughts of strategies, thoughts of crushing his rival, Draco, in their next duel, and thoughts of food. Alright, maybe he did have some inane thoughts, but can you blame him? The elves, little bastards that they were, made quite good food. Perhaps, to occupy this rather dreadful walk, I should describe Harry here to you. Harry is a sixteen year old, and one of Lord Voldemort's two elite duelists and assasins, his Wand and Shield. As a duelist, his whole body is lean muscle, hard, but not bulging from his body unnaturally. He stands at 5'10, and weighs 160 pounds. As looks go, he is rather handsome, with an angular face, but he finds all of the girls chasing him to be unimpressive, and he wants a woman who truly loves him, and whom can best him. His one major flaw is that he is too devoted to everything he does, and follows orders too easily. If one of the girls actually caught his eye, they would be surprised with his submissive personality. Harry was the Wand, proficient in all types of offensive magic, but extremely weak in defense, warding, and potions. Draco was the shield, proficient in the arts of warding, potion creating, rituals, and defensive magic. He is proficient enough to draw his runes with only his magic. Draco is also Harry's bitter rival, both of them constantly vying for the attentions of Lord Voldemort, neither of them truly realizing what is going on outside of Riddle Castle. Muggle-borns were being actively hunted, killed for sport. Half-bloods were about the lowest class in society, on the same level as house-elves. Now, back to the hero of this story, at least for now.

-=-=-=Harry's POV=-=-=-

I had banished all thoughts from my mind, getting ready for whatever mission his Lord might offer him. I knocked three times on my Lord's door, and then stepped back, waiting patiently. I hear my Lord's smooth baritone, "Enter, my Wand." I stepped in gracefully, nodding to Draco, and then sitting where my Lord gestured. Voldemort's snakelike mouth opened, and he smoothly began to speak, "I have a mission for you, my Wand. I wish for you to leave this castle, and hunt down the last muggleborn resistance group, the Order of the Impures. Destroy them, and their headquarters, and then report back to me." He seemed to spit the name of the muggleborn group out, which is fitting because all of those filthy Mudbloods are evil, cowardly fools. I make eye contact, opening my rather pitiful shields, and state clearly, "I am glad for the chance to avenge my parents, My Lord." Draco begins to chuckle, and Voldemort simply smiles. I smile with them, even if I do not understand the reasoning. "By your leave, Milord." I state, seeing Voldemort immediately give me a wave of his hand. I hear Draco mutter something about a stupid lion. As I leave, I toss over my shoulder, "Well, at least I'm not some wimpy little turtle, hiding behind its shell." I hear Draco splutter, and with huge amounts of willpower, manage to hold in my laughter until after I push the door closed. I must have laughed for at least three minutes before I composed myself, and began the long, dreary walk to the Apparition point. I nod to the random Death Eaters in the hallways, as well as the few Inner Circle members who are not on missions. Unfortunately, no matter how many times I have bested poor Bella, she never seems to learn respect for me. Oh well, I suppose in our next duel, my use of the Cruciactus Curse must be more… liberal. All I can occupy my thoughts with on the way there are my thoughts of the impending vengeance I will be able to bring upon the Muggleborns, in the name of my parents. I apparate to the first suspected stronghold, hoping that I won't have to search too long.

-=-=-=Hermione POV=-=-=-

"Stupefy!" I watch the red bolt of light collide with Ronald's forehead, and give a dissapointed sigh. I hit him, Neville, and Luna with an Ennervate. Ron springs up, and says, far too loudly for my liking, "Good duel Hermione! I almost got you with that Defodio!" I sigh quietly, knowing that, while their dueling skills are adequate, they will never truly challenge me. Luna says, in that dreamy way of hers, "I must have let the Wrackspurts get to me, because I let those two rope me in to a duel with you." I grin at Luna, before casually saying, "Well, with time, effort, luck, and about eight more people, you could probably defeat me someday!" Ron glares at me, and Neville gives a sarcastic laugh. Luna simply smiles, before mumbling something about Snorkacks, and taking her leave. Ron walks off, most likely to snog his girl of the week in a closet somewhere. Neville states in a kind, but slightly bitter voice, "I suppose I should go tend my garden. See you for our next duel." I sigh, knowing that crushing them every few days most likely won't make me any friends, but that isn't why i'm here, is it? I'm here to painfully destroy every single one of Voldemort's followers, and then maybe I can think about relationships. Truthfully though, it does hurt that I have no friends, no suitors, in fact, the only person I speak to frequently is Remus, the archivist. I take a moment to assess my body. I stand at a mere 5'2, and my whole body is toned. My breasts are not as big as that slut Lavender's, but I feel that they are of a good size. I am thin, but you can still see evidence of extensive training. Of course, I must be ugly, seeing as nobody has never even attempted to compliment me, but that is to be expected, I suppose. I am jolted from this rather depressing train of thought when I feel the whole building shudder. This shudder is followed by another, and another. I begin to run to the control room, where Dumbledore, Sirius, Molly, and all of the other leaders should be. As I burst in, I hear shouting, until a blast erupts from Dumbledore's wand. Everyone immediately silences, and Dumbledore begins to speak, in a grave tone, "It would appear we are under attack. The wards are being attacked with some very powerful offensive magic. I can only detect one signature though." When I hear that it is only one person, I stop paying attention. I can take one person! I am a prodigy, and no matter how skilled they may be, I can take them out. I turn on my heel, and sprint towards the exit of HQ. When I look out the window, I see a man with black hair. He seems to be looking at the fake entrance, how such a seemingly skilled wizard could be fooled by that I will never know. I creep out of the door, but it seems he could sense me, as he immediately shoots a Bombarda Maxima my way. I dive out of the way, and pull out my wand. He sighs, and in a light tenor voice, says, "I hope you have some training, it has been a while since I had any challenge." He then shoots out a chain of spells, this time vocalizing all of them. "Defodio! Stupefy! Sectumsempra! Expelliarmus! Confringo! Sacrificet! Avada Ka-" He is cut off when I hit him with a silent cutting spell. He got lucky, it barely missed his heart. I mutter to myself, still winded from all the dodging, "Why didn't you shield? That should have been an easy block." He is getting pale; most likely from blood loss, it would seem. However, it seems he is willing to fight til his last breath; I can respect that. He attempts to cast an unforgivable again, the Cruciatus this time. I hit him with a bombarda, vocalized. Still no block, a feeble attempt at dodging. It hits him in the chest, and he collapses. I walk over to him, ready to end this permanently, when Dumbledore opens the door. "That is quite enough, Miss Granger. We shall take him as a prisoner." He somehow keeps the twinkle in his eye as he says this. I sigh, and respond, "Whatever you say, but don't blame me for the shitstorm the other leaders will cause. He chuckles,"I assure you, Miss Granger, I have it quite in hand." I roll my eyes, and say, "I want first guard." I slam the door behind me, muttering,"We should really just kill that little Death Eater prick." I go into the training room, hoping some explosions will cheer me up. After five Bombardas and five destroyed dummies, I do indeed feel better. I enter my room, in need of a shower before I take first guard tonight.

-=-=-=Harry POV=-=-=-

My eyes flutter open, and I groan, feeling the broken ribs I sustained from that admittedly pretty mudblood. I see a group of people, all well known Order figures, and i spit out with hate in my voice,"Mudbloods, Blood Traitors, and Halfbreeds, all working together." Three readheads pull their wands, and the one wearing shabby clothes, a Lycan if I remember correctly, appears close to doing the same. I put up my hands, calling on the little wandless fire magic voldemort taught me. "Alright, Alright, i can surrender gracefully!" Then I shoot some fire at the old one. I get hit with two bone breakers, and my own deflected fire. They must be expecting me to block, but I never was good at defensive magic. I can feel my skin burn, but I do not scream. I am long past that point in my training. I do not scream when I feel my arm shatter. I do not scream before I collapse, and I do not fall unconscious. I simply spit some blood on the old one, and chuckle. "Oof, that almost hurt!" I say. Not the best idea in any circumstance, but everyone seems surprised that I couldn't even stop the spells. The old one, Dumbledore, I believe states, "Well, erm, I am sorry about that my boy. I am Albus Dumbledore, and I will be interrogating you." He then gestures to a redheaded man next to him. "This is Bill," He says cheerfully, "And he will be your torturer. Remus will be recording when you inevitably give up information, and everyone else will leave." At his implied command, everyone except the lycan and the readhead leaves. I chuckle, "Please, i'm not afraid of the crucio." All three start laughing, and the readhead wheels out three racks of Muggle torture implements. He says, "I don't like the Crucio" I gulp.

-=-=-=Hermione POV=-=-=-

I swallow my last bite of pot roast, and grin, before looking to Molly, and saying, "Thanks Molly! That was delicious! I'm gonna go watch the Death Muncher prick get tortured now, m'kay?" Molly looks sad at this, but just says, "Your welcome Hermione." And then turns back to her plate. I sigh, and walk to the torture room, looking through the one way glass. Looks like Bill already waterboarded him, as well as using hot irons and the whip, and it looks like he is about to use him as a sharpening board. The prick is curled in on himself, and is muttering something, while tears stream down his face. When Bill makes the first cut, it looks like his last shred of control breaks. He screams, "Please! Uncle! Please no more! I'll be good! I won't be a freak, I promise! I'll stop doing it! I promise!" Bill freezes, and Dumbledore appears horrified. A grim look plasters itself on my face; maybe there is another side to this story. When Bill steps back, the man on the floor just starts sobbing, probably reliving some horrible memory. My instincts want me to go comfort him, help him through this, but I stop myself. This man is evil, and deserves what he is getting. Dumbledore sends Bill away, and Stupefies the sobbing man. He levitates him, and walks out of the room with him in tow. I follow Dumbledore, and ask in a hard voice, "What will you do with the bastard?" He sighs, and replies sadly,"Well, it would appear he was abused. I would like to hear why he chose to join The Dark Lord before I make any decisions. And if I decide that he will be staying with us long term, possibly not as a prisoner, you will be with him everywhere." My jaw drops open, and I begin screaming at him.

-=-=-=Next day, Harry POV=-=-=-

My eyes flutter open. I need to stop being unconscious, I will never finish my mission at this rate. I look around the room. It is rather bare, as is to be expected from a prison cell, and my wand is nowhere to be found. I will have to find that as soon as possible. I see that rather pretty brunette from earlier stalking towards me. I am about to say something smug, when she slaps me across the face. The only thing I can think to say is, "You're hot when you're angry." That was probably a mistake, as she backhands me, and then says, with a barely controlled malice, "How dare you. How dare you even speak to me?! Your master killed my family!" I start getting pissed at this moment, and shout, "Oh yeah?! Well you filthy evil mudbloods killed my parents when you started the war on purebloods!" The mudblood recoils when I say this. "What the fuck did your snakefaced master teach you?! He started the war by murdering ten thousand Muggleborns and their families!" I blink, and stutter out something incomprehensible. That can't be true, can it? She isn't done however, and she shouts, "In fact, your fuckface of a master killed your parents, and took you from your fucking crib! Wake up dumbass!" I am shaking with rage by this point, and I lash out, missing her face by an inch. She punches me in the face three times, each time more painful than the last. I hit her with a roundhouse kick, and attempt to follow up with a side kick, but I don't get that far. She dislocates my hip, and forces me to kneel on the ground. She whispers in a menacing tone, "It isn't the Muggleborns that killed your parents, it is that master of yours. Ask anyone, dumbass." She walks out, and with some substantial effort, i pop my hip back in. While i can ignore the pain, what I can't ignore is the tightness in my trousers. I am still kneeling I realize, and get up in a hurry, but I can't stop thinking about the mudblood. I scream, "Why does shit like this always happen to me?"

-=-=-=Hermione POV=-=-=-

I can't believe I have to guard that douche! Who does that bastard think he is, saying the Muggleborns killed his parents! And why the fuck did it feel so good to have him kneeling in front of me?! I hear shouting come from his room, good, at least I made him angry. I hope he goes and slits his throat or something, so I won't have to deal with the bastard. I start reading a book of curses, and notice a curse that he used in our duel earlier. Sacrificet, the servitude spell. It can bind any lifeform to you, if they are less powerful magically. That just pisses me off more, but I calm myself down. He was probably just trying to get me to stop fighting. I notice a version of the spell for a willing partner, in a, erm, special relationship. Velle Subditos forms a collar on your partner that will bind them to you, making you the, umm, top in the relationship. This is normally used for BDSM, it would appear. For some reason, I find myself marking the page.

-=-=-=Harry POV=-=-=-

After I *ahem* took care of my problem, I started pacing around the room. I can adress my strange fantasies once I escape. Sadly, all of the ideas I could come up with involved someone coming to break me out, or me getting to my wand, both of which being unlikely, since I had been without contact for 6 months at one point. I sigh. I suppose I should pretend to cooperate for a while, to see if I can gain their trust, and possibly have a chance at getting my wand back, so I can escape from this god forsaken hellhole. I suppose there is time to reflect on my rather strange fantasies. Could this explain why none of the girls that chased me interested me? Did i just want someone to take charge and...dominate? No. That can't be it, can it? But maybe that explains why I always had a certain joy in taking orders. I am so caught in my thoughts, I don't notice the mudblood opening the door. "Why the fuck is this happening to me?!" I scream. "What do you mean, douchebag?" My head shoots up, and my entire face goes cherry red. Involuntarily, I notice that her bushy hair really does accentuate her looks. My face somehow manages to get redder at this, and while I can't make eye contact, I do manage to stutter out, "N-n-nothing mu-mudblood! No-Nothing is w-w-wrong!" I then turn my back on her, hoping that my blush goes away. She seems confused, but it looks like she decides to dismiss it. "Well anyway," She says coldly, "I'm guarding you from now until Dumbledore says you leave." My blush immediately disappears, and I shout, "Who does that prick think he is, sticking me with you?!" Hermione states in a frigid voice, "Shut up before I beat the shit out of you again." I blush at that, but I muster up the strength to say, "Oh fuck you you mudblooded bitch!" The mudblood looks like she barely restrains herself from murdering me where I stand. She turns to leave, and I ask quietly, "Did the Dark Lord really start the war and kill my parents?" She stops, and her face softens slightly. She says in a voice of barely repressed malice, "Would you really believe me if I told you the truth?" I sigh, knowing she won't tell me. She says in a slightly kinder voice, "I'll send Sirius in, he will probably want to speak with you when I tell him who you are anyway." I don't say anything, but internally I am questioning everything i've ever known. It can't be true, can it?

-=-=-=Sirius POV=-=-=-

-and then Snivellus' pants fell off!" I finished the joke I was telling, grinning as all of the Weasleys laughed, and took a sip of my drink. "Sirius!" I look over and see that duelist girl, Hermione I think, yelling my name. I put my drink down and stand up. I stroll over to her at my usual leisurely pace, all the while thinking about that prisoner she captured. Wonder who it was? "Yeah Hermione, what's up?" I say casually. "It's him." She replies in a grim tone. My eyes widen, and I respond hurriedly, "Where is he?" "That's the problem. He's the prisoner. He is Voldy's right hand man Sirius!" She is practically yelling in my face at this point. "Bring. Me. To. Him." I say, but in my head I am contemplating this. How could he work for Voldemort? I thought he died when the bastard killed Lils and Prongs! We are running to his room now. When we arrive, I take a secnd to compose myself. I open the door slowly and say, "Harry! It's so good to see you! I thought Voldemort killed you!" I see a pair of malice filled green eyes glaring at me, and I recoil. "Harry it's me Padfoot!" I say, and begin to walk towards him for a hug. He yells, "Don't you fucking touch me bastard! I just need to ask you a question!" My smile slightly falters, but I put my hands down and say, "Sure, fire away pup!" He glares at me, and through gritted teeth, he says, "Is it true that Voldemort started the war and killed my parents, and that it wasn't the muggleborns?" I grimace, not wanting to talk about the war with him, but I respond, "Yes pup, it was Voldemort who killed your parents and started this terrible war." He appears to collapse in on himself, and I begin to tell him the full story of the war.

Phew! First chapter done! I know it might not be the best, but I am just trying to gauge the response. Also, the reason I made Hermione a female dom is because I am myself a sub, and also because I just feel it suits her personality. Don't forget to review, and don't flame me too much!