Disclaimer: As is required I shall state that I do not own Harry Potter or Supernatural

Chapter 1

Dean stood stock still on the stage, but only because he literally couldn't move. He wanted to run, to scream, to do anything but stand utterly still, staring straight ahead. The fact he was completely naked didn't help matters either. Only automatic functions like breathing seemed to be happening.

"Next lot ladies and gentlemen! We have a very special treat here. Young, healthy...and the son of the infamous John Winchester himself! That's right, this is the human called Dean Winchester. A fine specimen indeed." The voice he had come to hate called out to the crowd.

He felt so confused, he'd been in his motel room looking into a hunt one minute and the next the door had been broken down and the room swarmed. He hadn't stood a chance as he'd been pinned to the floor, stripped of all weapons and protections before being injected with something. His last sight had been of the owner of the voice smirking down at him. He'd woken in a dark cell after who knew how long, naked, cold and chained up. There was a metal collar around his throat with no latch he could find but a place for a chain to be attached. Around his wrists and ankles were matching bands of metal, none with latches. He'd been fed through a slot in the door but left utterly alone. The auctioneers voice had been heard in the cell occasionally, taunting him, belittling him and he hated it. Then today they'd entered his cell with a high power house to wash him down with freezing cold water. He'd tried to fight but then they'd done something, and he had frozen like a statue, losing all control over his body. And now, here he was on some sort of auction block, displayed for the highest bidder.

He listened as voices called out higher and higher numbers, should he be proud he was apparently worth almost a million? He couldn't even see who what was bidding for him, his gaze fixed above their heads towards the back wall.

"One point five." A new voice called, and silence spread. The whole atmosphere of the place seemed to change, and Dean had a feeling the new bidder was off to the side, maybe just entered?

"One point five going once…twice…sold!" The auctioneer announced, and Dean was moved off the block and into a room where he was pushed to kneel on the cold stone before being left alone. He focused solely on moving just one finger and yet nothing happened. Why couldn't he move? He felt the air flow change and then realised someone was behind him.

A finger traced across his shoulders and Dean felt sick. The fingers moved down his spine and then up into his hair, their owner not saying a word. The utter silence made it all worse, he couldn't even tell if it was male or female. They ran through his hair, massaging his scalp and Dean felt goosebumps break out over his skin before they slipped forward and gently pressed down on his eyelids, closing them. He tried to open his eyes but once again nothing happened. Hands ran over his body and he shivered, the hands were warm and smooth…and most likely female or a small male. He was suddenly pulled to his feet and then something was pressed to his hand and everything went crazy as he lost all sense of up or down, the world spinning as he felt something hook behind his navel, pulling him along as he tried not to throw up but then it stopped and he was moving, he could feel his legs moving as he walked and it was dizzying to be moving and yet unable to see. After what felt like eternity they stopped, and Dean knelt again, this time on what felt like a rug, his head tipped up. A brief touch and his eyes were opened, temporarily blinded by the light before they adjusted, and he found himself looking up at a woman who was sitting in an armchair. She was beautiful with long, loose, silky mahogany curls, smooth ivory skin and dark brown eyes flecked with gold. He thought she was wearing a dress, but he couldn't exactly look down to confirm it. All he could see was the deep v-neckline, green silky material and bare shoulders. Under normal circumstances he would be trying to flirt with her, but now all he wanted to do was run as far as he could.

"Dean Winchester," she whispered, hand caressing his cheek and her voice was like liquid honey, her accent British he thought. She did something he couldn't see and suddenly he slid sideways, gasping for air as he landed on his hands.

His hands…he buried his fingers in the white fur rug, he could move! He scrambled back away from her, standing on trembling legs before his back hit the wall beside the roaring fireplace. He'd been right, she was wearing a dress. The bodice was fitted, dark green silk with a flowing skirt that probably went to the floor. "Who are you?" He demanded. "Where are we?"

"The where is very easy, my home in England. My name is Hermione, you will call me Mistress." She stood, revealing she was shorter than he was and yes, her gown brushed the floor as she walked over to a table.

Dean looked around the room, it was massive and made of stone with rich tapestries on the walls, windows too small to climb through, a massive wooden door that was barred. At one end there was a massive wooden desk covered in papers, bookshelves next to it, all very old fashioned looking. The stone floors were covered in various rugs, like the one he had been kneeling on. Around the fireplace was a lounge and armchairs, all luxurious looking. All in all, the place looked like something from another century. "We can't be in England," he denied, and she laughed, making him shiver at the sound, not in fear, no, it sounded so good.

"Magic is a wonderful thing Dean. Now, come here, I doubt you were well fed at the auction house," she called from where she stood at a small table, but Dean refused to move. "Come here Dean," she commanded, and Dean felt his stomach growl as he smelt the food. He was hungry but there was no way he was trusting food from her. She had just admitted to using magic, she had 'bought' him, she was a threat…. But surely a little food wouldn't hurt? The traitorous thought slipped in and Dean found himself walking towards her before he could stop himself. She sat on a chair and once he was close took his hand, gently pushing him to kneel again.

"No." Dean fought the desire to kneel. What was happening to him?

"You are a slave now Dean, a pet, who lives or dies at my whim. You will obey me, you have no choice. The collar ensures I have complete control over you. The more you fight the quicker you will lose yourself." Hermione explained as she forced him to kneel at her side. Her hand went to his hair, gently running her nails over his scalp and he felt himself shiver at her touch. She lifted a grape and pressed it against his lips.

Dean felt sick even as he dropped to his knees. He was no one's pet! The metal around his throat suddenly gained an even more sinister meaning, obviously designed to somehow control his body. But his mind? How would he lose himself? He felt the grape pressed against his lips and looked up at her, finding her watching him, amused. He wanted to keep his mouth shut, he could feed himself, but what she'd said about fighting…it had raised doubts. Would fighting make it worse? Slowly his lips parted, and the grape slipped in for him to chew. She fed him fruit and bread in that manner before pressing a goblet to his lips and he drank, finding it held wine, not his drink of choice.

Hermione smiled as Dean allowed her to hand feed him, knowing the sort of things that had to be going through his mind. By the time she pressed the goblet of red wine to his lips he didn't even think about trying not to drink. The food had been clean, but the wine was drugged. It wasn't anything bad, but she watched as Dean relaxed under the effects of the wine and Amortentia.

Dean blinked as the goblet was taken away, it had smelt so good…leather, old books…something sweet… he swayed on his knees, looking pale and sickly, not that he was aware of it as he looked at her…she was the most beautiful woman in the world, he would do anything for her. He loved her. She stood and pulled him to his feet, steadying him as he swayed, which almost made him laugh as he looked down at her, she was at least half a foot shorter than him, him.

"What's so funny my pet?" She asked as she led him away from the table and threw a doorway he hadn't noticed before.

"Short." He slurred, and she laughed as she led him to a massive fourposter bed that took up the majority of the room. Heavy drapes hung from the corners and there were masses of cushions on the bed itself.

"Perhaps I am." She admitted, and Dean found himself staring at the bed as she pulled down the covers. The room was spinning…or was he spinning? He felt oddly warm and went to tug at clothes that weren't there. He became utterly focused on her as she simply let her gown slip to the floor, revealing her body to him, she was the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen, he wanted her more than anything else. She reclined on the bed and held a hand out to him. "Come to me Dean." She whispered, and he climbed clumsily onto the bed, crawling to her.

Her hand slid up into his hair, pressing him down and he went willing, their lips connecting in a kiss. He tried to deepen the kiss, desperately needing more, but she wouldn't allow it so he eventually stopped and then she was the one deepening it, her tongue slipping into his mouth and he moaned in pleasure. He got the strange sensation of moving and then there was something soft beneath him… he opened his eyes in confusion, when had he closed them?, and found himself looking up at her. Hermione smiled at him and then went to work, finding everything that felt good for him, driving him crazy. He tried several times to return the favour, to move things along but it never worked. He…he was drunk….how? One glass of wine? Drugged? It was hard to think, his head heavy and full of wool. Why did it matter? He loved her, she could do anything she wanted to him. And then he gasped, arching his hips up as she slid down over him. Once he was fully inside, she stayed still and he couldn't help but whimper in need.

"Do you need something pet?" She leant down to whisper in his ear and Dean turned his head, trying to kiss her but she pulled back. "Ask for what you need."

Ask….he struggled to think past the haze and pleasure. All he had to do was ask and she would give him what he needed, she was so amazing. She shifted, and he gasped in desire.

"Ask pet," she commanded softly, staring into unfocused green eyes. Harry's eyes were the colour of holly, Dean's eyes were more like jade, a pale green although right then they were practically black with how far dilated his pupils were. His body was well muscled, compact and athletic and far taller than her. He was a handsome man and now he was all hers. She sucked on his throat and he whined, baring it to her.

"M….more!" He gasped. "Please….ne….ne….need." he begged brokenly, unable to think past the fire in his blood, the alcohol had already lost its hold on him but the Amortentia was still flowing through his veins, making him love her, desire her above anything and anyone. She knew it wasn't real love, it was obsession and instability and very useful.

"Good boy Dean." She lapped at his pulse point as she began to move. "Obedience will be rewarded." She promised as she picked up her pace and Dean writhed under her, panting for breath. She kissed him hard and he submitted, giving her control. She broke the kiss and went back to his throat. Dean cried out in pleasure, head going back, and she sank fangs deep into the vein, sealing her lips over the wound and drinking deep as Dean relaxed, exhausted.

Dean lay on the bed, utterly spent, eyes fluttering as he tried to stay awake. Everything was hazy, his body heavy, he wanted to sleep but something felt strange. He felt himself slip from inside of her and sighed at the loss, going to turn his head to see her but he couldn't move it. Her hands were stroking his body but not to arouse, it felt nice….soothing….just like the odd pulling sensation at his neck. He began to feel like he was floating, his muddled thoughts only of his love, his body weightless as he surrendered to the blackness.

Hermione pulled back, licking the wound closed before licking the last drop of his delicious blood from her lips. Hmm…perhaps she had indulged a little too much, he looked a tad pale, even for someone under the effects of Amortentia. But his breathing was steady and his heartbeat strong, so she wasn't worried. She watched as a shimmer covered his body briefly, cleaning him and taking care of his body's needs, he should be happy, he would never need a bathroom again as long as he wore his collar. She left the bed and went to soak in the tub, it had been a few years since she had been with a man so….well-built and she ached, although it was a pleasant ache. She held no illusions that Dean would wake and accept his life once the potion wore off, no, this would be a long fight until either he surrendered, or the collars power took him over mind, body and soul. She wasn't sure which she would prefer. After an hour she stood from the tub and redressed, a spell handling her hair with barely a thought. She left her chambers and walked through the ancient castle until she reached the main hall where she smiled at seeing Harry stretched out before the fire, a white wolf at his side.

He looked up from his book and smiled at her. "You look very satisfied, have a good trip?"

"It was passable."

"Then what's with the look?" He gently scratched the wolf's head and it sighed in pleasure, tongue lolling.

"I bought myself a wonderful birthday present." She smirked as she took a seat.

"Do tell." He put his book aside and gave her his full attention.

"You know how America has those so-called hunters?"

"Muggles that have learnt a little and decided anything that doesn't fit their definition of normal has to die," he sneered in disgust.

She nodded. "There is a famous hunter, John Winchester. He has two sons, one who followed him, the other I'm not sure of."

"Okay…"

"Dean Winchester was captured and put up for action. He's simply delicious." She licked her lips and Harry laughed.

"I assume he's been made safe."

"They put a full slave collar on him once they caught him. I am very interested in seeing the effects of one on a muggle, we know what they do to magicals already." She indicated the wolf and Harry grinned, a mental command and the wolf form blurred and shifted to become a young looking human male with white-blonde hair falling straight down his back, pale flawless skin and grey eyes so light they almost appeared white.

"Yes, dear Draco is a very good example." Harry petted the blonde hair and Draco whined softly, pressing into his touch. There was nothing of the proud Slytherin Prince about the young man who knelt on the rug at his master's feet. She had gifted Draco to Harry when she had found him trying to organise a resistance. She had led a small force in to subdue them and had personally locked the golden collar around his throat, it had felt good to take some payment for everything he had done to them over the years. He had fought so hard in the beginning until little by little the collar had taken away all defiance, all sense of self. Draco Malfoy no longer existed. All that was left was an obedient pet, his magic funneled through the collar to increase Harry's already astronomical power levels. Although it had left him with the Animagus form of a solid white arctic wolf. If it could do that to the magically powerful Malfoy heir, what would it do to a muggle? "So other than your present how did the trip go?"

"They were very open to joining us, I think the hunters are part of it. MACUSA has pretty much lost all control and they know it. We're the best option for keeping any independence and safety."

"Good." Holly green eyes flickered gold briefly. "We need to know everything your new pet knows about hunters and his own family. It's always a good idea to keep an eye on people with any sort of fame."

"That will be fun." She laughed, and they settled in for the evening, enjoying each other's company.

,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,

Waking happened very slowly, his head swimming and body weak. He felt confused, had he gotten drunk or something? He shifted slightly on the bed and forced his eyes open slowly. Where? This wasn't a motel.

"Good morning pet." A gentle voice called, and memories slammed into him, making him press his hands to his head in pain. He knew that voice…the woman he loved…what had happened? There'd been food… eating from her hand….the wine….and then everything was jumbled but he remembered pleasure and love, he loved her with everything he had. "Come now Dean, you can't stay abed all day. I've got some cool juice over here to make you feel better," Hermione offered, knowing he was still under the effects of the love potion.

Dean woozily pushed himself into sitting up, forcing himself to ignore the spinning room. He saw her once again, this time in a gown of light blue and a simpler style, sitting at the table with a plate of fresh fruit and a goblet, he assumed with the promised juice in it. His head was killing him, and he felt weak…. Like he'd lost a lot of blood or something which didn't make any sense.

"Feeling weak is perfectly normal after losing blood, although perhaps I took a little more than I should have." She smirked and for the first time he saw a flash of fang, a vampire? His hand moved up to his throat and above the collar he felt a sensitive patch of skin but then his hand dropped. What did it matter? If he could give her his blood then he would, anything he had was hers. Dean took a step away from the bed and stumbled, falling to his knees so he simply crawled to her side, she was a goddess compared to him. "Good boy Dean," she praised, and it felt so good to know he had pleased her. She held the goblet down and he drank the liquid inside. "Do love me Dean?"

"Yes, more than anyone," he swore looking up at her in total devotion. She stroked his cheek and he leant into her touch. She fed him by hand and he ate without protest. She went to her desk to do some work and he crawled over when summoned, kneeling beside her, his head in her lap as she petted him. He dozed on and off, content to be in her presence. As the hours passed the potion slowly began to be flushed from his system, the collar shimmering occasionally, signaling it was taking care of his needs.

Dean shifted, he felt so strange…and then he jerked away, falling to the floor in a heap before scrambling up. Thankfully most of his strength had returned over the day. She'd drunk his blood and it had felt so good at the time…he could remember thinking he loved her, that he would do anything for her. How had she done that to him? "How…what did you do to me?" He demanded, and she turned in her chair to face him.

"Why does it matter? It made you feel good, didn't it?"

"No," he denied angrily, not willing to admit that at the time he had felt incredible. "Why are you doing this?"

"Because your kind are monsters. You hunt and kill anyone or anything that doesn't fit your narrow view of humanity like you have the right to be judge, jury and executioner. Now, will you come here?"

Dean stared at her with wide eyes. She was judging him? How many people had she killed? "No."

She stood and stalked towards him and Dean shivered, able to remember the sight of her naked body, the feel of her skin against his and his body reacted. She smiled as she saw it and Dean glared, struggling to remain still, to stand his ground. She reached up to cup his face in her hands. "So stubborn, I like that. It will make your taming all the more exhilarating," she murmured. "You will submit fully to me and enjoy it," she smirked.

"I'm not a pet," he snarled, and she laughed, hand slipping back into his hair, gripping lightly. Dean tensed but then his body moved without his wanting to, bending to accept her kiss, lips parting for her.

"Your past life is over Dean, accept it and embrace your new life."

"Nev…er…." It was almost impossible to force the syllables out, but he managed, broken and breathy, but she heard him.

"No one can resist forever Dean, you will live as long as I wish you too, never ageing or changing. You will come to my bed eagerly, take any scrap from my hand and you will want no other life," she promised before kissing him again. Dean stood still, the collar keeping him from resisting, but it also wasn't making him participate. She led him over to the fireside and he obediently sat at her feet, only his eyes showing his hate and fear. She began running her fingers through his hair, gently scratching his scalp, smiling as after almost an hour she could feel the fight leaving him, body unable to fight the pleasant, calming sensation any longer. She let her hand slip to his neck, gently massaging tense muscles above the collar and smiled as he groaned softly in relief, fully sagging against her. He couldn't move from his spot, but she had freed his body enough to do that.

Dean slumped against her as the pain in his neck and mild headache faded away at her touch. He knew he shouldn't enjoy it, but he couldn't move away. Her hand moved back to his hair and he blinked lethargically, staring into the flames. Her rhythmic stroking and the flickering flames were almost…hypnotic, he didn't notice his pupils dilating, breathing and pulse slowing, frozen facial muscles going slack as his world narrowed to the dancing flames and rhythmic scratching of his scalp.

Hermione glanced down at Dean, seeing his dilated pupils and unblinking stare, utterly focused on the flames. She almost laughed as she realised the way her soothing touch and the dancing flames had affected him. She remained quiet and watched as he stopped swallowing, soon after that his eyelids began to droop, skin flushing. She had released his ability to talk fully and yet he remained silent, an occasional involuntary muscle movement all that happened. He had managed to hypnotise himself, that was amusing. "Good boy Dean," she whispered not wanting to bring him up out of the state. "Can you hear me?"

"Yes," Dean answered slowly, his voice pitched slightly higher than she'd heard before.

"Tell me about your family Dean," she murmured in his ear.

"Dad….Sammy…." He spoke very slowly, and she had to be careful what she asked, not wanting him to snap himself out of it. It took six hours to get everything she wanted for now out of him.

"Such a good pet Dean. Don't fight this, give in and be happy," she murmured several times. "Let go and submit. It's time to sleep now, just relax and go to sleep." She ran her hand down over his eyes and he didn't open them when she removed her hand. She transfigured something she had seen in many pet stores as a child, a pet bed, except this one was sized for a human. She put it beside the fireplace and then made a second one next to her own bed. She levitated Dean into the fireside one once there was some comfortable cushions in it. Dean rolled slightly, curling up, but didn't wake as he was covered with a light blanket. She doubted one session of hypnosis would make much of a change, he was far too stubborn, but it would help. She stripped off and went to bed herself, she needed rest in order to deal with him on top of her normal work.

The next morning, she was up and dressed long before Dean began to stir. Eventually he sat up, blinking sleepily as what he was sleeping on slowly sank in and he scrambled up. "Don't you like it pet?" She leant back, crossing one leg over the other, the split in her skirt flashing bare leg to him and he looked. It was obvious he was physically attracted to her but as she had expected the hypnosis had not had a large effect. She stood and stalked towards him, smiling as he fought to stand his ground, anger, fear and desire fighting each other. She reached up and caressed a smooth cheek, feeling him clench his teeth.

"Let me go," he choked out and she tugged him down into a soft kiss.

"Never Dean, stop fighting me and let yourself be happy here. No more danger or running, I will keep you safe forever. Or is it your family you miss?" She asked and saw the flash of panic. "You must be so proud of Sammy, Stanford is an excellent university."

"How…" how could she know that?

"You told me last night Dean, don't you remember?"

No, he didn't and that terrified him, what else could he have told her? Why had he told her?

"Time for breakfast pet," she went to the table and Dean fell to his knees but didn't immediately move, fingers clenching briefly in the rug before they relaxed, and he crawled after her, body out of his control as he moved to kneel beside her chair. "Good boy Dean, good pets are rewarded," she kissed him and then hand fed him again. She had seen the medical file the auction house and collected on him, the scan results. He ate a lot of unhealthy food but no more, she was feeding him a diet of nuts, fruit and vegetables with the occasional grains, with red wine and water to drink. She wanted him to be in perfect health, a specimen, with no pudge from beer and burgers. He was already very fit from hunting, but his diet was beginning to show on his body. She placed the goblet at his lips and Dean swallowed without fight, it wasn't worth fighting over food, he had to save his energy for the fights that matter… he blinked and looked up at her through his eyelashes, drinking in her beauty. He could smell that wonderful scent again…leather, old books…something sweet… he swayed on his knees, looking pale and sickly, as the potion took effect, making him utterly obsessed with her.

Hermione put the goblet aside and pulled Dean up to kiss him, not using the collar at all, and Dean eagerly submitted to her ministrations, whimpering in need as her hands stroked over his warm skin. She broke the kiss and walked to the bedroom, smiling as Dean eagerly crawled after her. "Lie on the bed, on your stomach pet," she ordered, and he quickly obeyed. "Good boy," she praised as she let her dress fall to the floor. She moved so she was kneeling on the bed, straddling him without sitting on him. She poured oil into her hands and began massaging it into his skin, feeling him relax beneath her hands. She leant down and kissed his shoulder and he shivered, moving his head to bare his throat to her. She smiled and then gently sank fangs into the vulnerable flesh, sipping at his blood as he moaned, hips jerking a little, rubbing against the bed. She pulled free but didn't seal the wound, watching blood trickle over his skin. "Roll over pet," she commanded, and Dean lethargically pushed himself over, revealing just how aroused he was, skin flushed, pupils dilated, manhood erect. All very good, she wanted him to equate her feeding with pleasure. She lapped at the blood on his skin and he whimpered. She shifted down and he groaned as she took him inside before sealing her lips over the wound. She could feel him fighting to remain still as she rocked herself on him, her hands caressing his sides, occasionally tweaking a nipple. Finally, she gave him encouragement to move and he gasped in relief as he moved to meet her movements, hands fisted in the sheet since he hadn't been given permission to touch.

Dean was lost in a world of pleasure, from her gentle sucking of his blood to the warmth of her surrounding him. She was his world, his everything. She could drain him if she wanted, everything he was belonged to her. He would die for her, kill for her… he cried out in pleasure before her lips sealed over his, tasting his blood but he didn't care. He went boneless as she broke the kiss, feeling himself softening within her. The world was grey around the edges and he didn't have the strength to move. He felt her leave the bed and his head lolled on the pillow as he tried to see his goddess. And then she was back, gently cleaning his body with warm cloth. "Miss….tre….ss" he slurred, eyes fluttering.

"Such a good pet," her praise made him feel warm and he didn't realise he was smiling drunkenly. "Do you love me?"

"Yes," he mumbled, struggling to stay awake. A cool goblet was pressed to his lips and he drank deeply of the cool water, his Mistress having to hold his head up for him.

"Such a good boy. Can you sit up pet?"

Sit? He fought to move and managed to partially push up from the bed before crumpling, panting. No, she wanted him to sit and he wanted to make her happy. He tried again and managed to get mostly upright, sweating in exertion, body shaking like a leaf.

"Such a good boy!" She praised. "Go to your bed pet."

Dean dragged himself off the bed and pretty much fell into his, on the verge of passing out. He felt a hand rest on his forehead and a whine slipped free as he weakly pressed into her touch, earning a soft laugh.

"Good pet, obedience will be rewarded. Let go of your old life, submit and be free," she whispered as she covered him with a blanket, seeing him go limp in sleep. She got up and left the room, locking him in to be safe, she couldn't stay with him all the time as she had work to do. Once he was fully trained, he could accompany her but until then he would remain in her quarters.

TBC…