A/N: To the best of my knowledge, muggledad is the first and only fanfic writer I've seen who has Voldemort use the royal "We," which I am doing as well. I agree with muggledad that that sounds like something Voldemort would do.

Recommendation: This chapter's recommended fic is "He's Mine" by Romantic Silence. It's a curious and slightly darkish story in which Hermione is pleased that she's the only one who believes in Harry after he's forced to participate in the Triwizard Tournament. It's short and quick to read.

Chapter 15 - Master and Servant

Saturday, December 26, 1994 - Boxing Day, Early Afternoon.

Jasmine and Hermione had left the Yule ball before it ended at midnight, but they had stayed up late anyway, talking and cuddling in Hermione's bed. They hadn't wanted the night to end, but they had no easy options for spending time together as a couple, and this had been all they could come up with.

Thus it was a bleary-eyed Jasmine and Hermione who made their way down to the Great Hall for lunch, which for them was effectively breakfast, in the hope that some food would help wake them up. They saw many students who were in a similar state, and more than a few who seemed to be worse. Neville and Ginny were nowhere in sight. Jasmine assumed that she and her girlfriend would end up in the library for studying once lunch was done, but instead she was dragged all the way back up to the seventh floor and into their training room.

Once there, and after the map was checked, Hermione silenced and sealed the door, pushed Jasmine into a chair, took a chair opposite for herself, and regarded Jasmine with a stern expression. "Right," she started, "you promised me an explanation for how you learned about and accessed your vaults. The fact that you didn't tell me before — not even a quick version — means that it's complex, it's dangerous, I won't like it, or all of the above. So we're not leaving here until I get the full story. Now give."

Jasmine groaned inwardly. She didn't dare let it show, however, lest it give the tenacious witch across from her even more ammunition. I knew this conversation was coming, she thought to herself, I knew it. I should have prepared myself already — I just didn't think it would come so quickly. First thing the day after! Talk about pushy...

Sighing, Jasmine began, "You're right that you're not going to be happy. But," she added, raising her finger to silence Hermione before she could interject, "I'm going to ask you to hear me out first, just like you asked me when you wanted Viktor to practice dancing with us. I was calm, remember? And that turned out alright in the end. Do you think you can do the same?"

"Well, when you put it that way..." Hermione grumbled. At Jasmine's look, she added, "Fine, fine — I'll be good. What is it?"

"Thank you. My first confession," Jasmine began, "is that I forgot to get you a gift until the last minute. In fact, I forgot to get any gifts at all until the last minute. In my defense, I'll just point out that I've had a lot on my mind for the past month or so..."

Hermione snorted in amusement at the understatement. Taking that as encouragement, Jasmine continued, "Then I got lucky and met Dobby in our common room. He's been working at Hogwarts and told me he was very happy. However, I also learned that not everything had been going well for him. And it turns out I was partly to blame."

Shocked, Hermione asked, "What's wrong? What did you do?"

"Well, the problem was that I freed Dobby at the end of second year. That act of generosity on my part could have killed him."

"What?" Hermione asked in a louder voice. "How?"

"According to Dobby, house elves get magic from the family they are bonded to. House elves are magical creatures and need magic to survive, but they have little of their own. So without a bond, a house elf will slowly deteriorate mentally and physically, eventually dying. That's why my freeing Dobby could have killed him."

Hermione was horrified. "Oh, no — it's not just Dobby, is it, but all the house elves that I've been trying to free? I could have killed them!" She jumped up and started pacing in her agitation. "Have any died yet, do you know? Can the effects be reversed? Can I donate my own magic? What do we do, Jasmine?"

Pleased that this was going better than she had feared, but worried because Hermione was being a bit too passionate now, Jasmine grabbed her fellow Gryffindor and firmly put her back into her chair. "Don't panic, Hermione. You haven't done nearly as much damage as you think. Probably none at all, in fact, except to your reputation. The Hogwarts house elves are safe, but they aren't happy with you. We'll get to that later."

Relieved, Hermione said, "OK, fine. So what about Dobby? Why is he still alive? I assume that he found somebody to bond with, but that can't be the whole story, or else you wouldn't be making a big deal about this."

Smiling at Hermione's powers of deduction, Jasmine went on, "Exactly. Yes, he bonded, but not completely. He created a partial bond with someone — just enough to keep from dying, but not enough to help him the way he needed. He didn't explain it to me in detail, but the impression I got was that he's been living with something like a serious, chronic illness for more than a year now. It's been hard on him, I could tell; yet despite that, when we met he was as cheerful as ever."

"Oh, my." Hermione exclaimed, "But who would he have created a partial bond with? Who would have been unable to... you! Did he partially bond with you?"

"Right again," Jasmine answered. "Once I learned all this, I basically had two choices: cut the partial bond that was keeping him alive and hope that he could find another solution in time, or complete the bond so he could be made healthy and whole once again. Leaving him with a partial bond would have been cruel, so I didn't even consider that."

Thus far, Hermione's reactions had been pretty much what Jasmine had hoped for: instead of blurting out, "I bonded Dobby to me," which was sure to result in an explosion, she started off with "unbonded elves die," which was sure to elicit sympathy. It might be a bit manipulative, but it was still the truth. If presenting the truth in a favorable order helped keep Hermione from getting unnecessarily upset, Jasmine was all for it.

And Hermione was definitely looking conflicted. "Are you sure that bonding with a family is the only way for house elves to have enough magic to survive?" she asked.

"Well," Jasmine answered, "it seems there is one alternative, and that's to bond with an institution like Hogwarts or the Ministry of Magic. There's enough magic in such places to give them what they need. They're not always as happy that way because most prefer being part of a family rather than an impersonal organization, but they can survive."

Hermione had to think about that, and she spent a minute going through all the possibilities and permutations. In the end, she sagged in her chair in defeat. "You bonded Dobby to yourself, didn't you?" It was more a statement than a question.

"Yep," Jasmine answered, popping the P. "Was I wrong?"

Grudgingly, Hermione conceded, "No. And you were right — I'm not happy. It's not the ideal outcome, but I guess that it may have been the best decision."

Now it was Jasmine's turn to sag in her chair, in relief this time. "Good, I was worried about that. This is exactly the issue where you've reacted most rashly. Your passion about wanting to free the elves is great, but you probably should have done more research before acting." Jasmine paused for a moment to consider before continuing. "If it'll make you feel any better, I think Dobby may be one who prefers a personal connection. When he explained all this to me, he started acting kind of... shifty, like he was angling for something. I didn't understand it at the time, but I think maybe he was hoping I'd ask him to become my elf. I mean, he could have bonded with Hogwarts and been at full strength for the last several months, yet he chose to maintain a partial bond with me instead. I know this isn't what you wanted for him, but I think it's what he wanted for himself."

Jasmine glanced over at her girlfriend, who didn't say anything. The bushy-haired witch still looked sullen, but maybe now she was... thoughtfully sullen. Jasmine shook her head and sighed. "Anyway, who knew that house elves were magical parasites, like tapeworms?"

Hermione was horrified. "You take that back! They are not tapeworms!"

"What?" Jasmine asked, surprised by Hermione's sudden anger. "They sound like parasites..."

"No!" Hermione said forcefully. "Parasites only take, but apparently house elves give back in exchange for what they take. They're clearly symbiotic creatures, not parasites. Honestly!"

"OK, OK, sorry," Jasmine mumbled, feeling thoroughly chastened.

Hermione scowled a bit, then moved on and asked, "So what about my reputation with the house elves? You mentioned something about that?"

"Oh, right," Jasmine said. "Well, they don't like you much. Even though you couldn't free them, since you aren't their master, they still recognized that you were trying to free them. From their perspective, that's like someone trying to kill them." Hermione winced at that. "So they all but abandoned the Gryffindor Tower to Dobby. He's been doing all the work and taking all your hats. He loves them. In fact, when we met that morning I described, he was wearing a dozen or so of them."

Jasmine paused and suddenly became very interested in picking at a mark on the table, prompting Hermione to ask, "What else? All that is bad enough, but what else is there that could make you that uncomfortable?"

"Uh... they've been calling you names," Jasmine said, refusing to look at the other witch.

"So?" Hermione said. Then, after a moment, added, "Wait, what sort of names?"

"According to Dobby, there are two that have become common," Jasmine said. "She-Who-Knits and The Dark Seamstress."

Hermione let her head hit the table with a resounding thump. "Yeah, they really don't like you much," Jasmine said.

After giving Hermione a few moments to process that, Jasmine continued, "I have good news and bad news. Let's start with the good news. I gave Dobby a bunch of rules to ensure that he's treated well. Things like pay, time off, he can ask to be released, that sort of thing. Oh, and he can't go beating himself up if he thinks he's done anything wrong. I hated watching him do that when he was a Malfoy elf. He knows that as his mistress, only I can set his punishments. We can go over the rules later to see if I missed anything."

Hermione looked directly at Jasmine at this point, crossed her arms, and raised one eyebrow.

"What?" the auburn-haired witch asked.

"Really?" Hermione drawled.

"What?"

Smirking, Hermione continued, "Mistress is in charge of punishments, is she? What have you been doing with that poor elf?"

Upon realizing the implications of her earlier words, Jasmine's eyes widened and her face flushed scarlet. Unable to articulate any complete words, she just spluttered while Hermione looked at her knowingly. Finally, she managed to get out, "Bloody hell, witch!"

"Language," Hermione chided with a smile. "And you're right, we will have to talk about that later. Now, what's the bad news?"

Once Jasmine could form coherent thoughts again, she asked, "Do you remember Winky?"

Hermione had to stop and think for a minute, then it hit her, "Barty Crouch's elf? The one he dismissed at the World Cup?"

"Yeah," Jasmine said. "She's here at Hogwarts, but she won't bond with the castle. She's one of those elves that wants a family. She can't accept working for an impersonal institution — like Dobby, she needs the emotional bond, not merely the magical bond. She's going downhill fast, getting drunk on butterbeer. She needs to bond with someone or she'll die."

Realization dawned on Hermione's face as she figured out what was going to be asked of her. "Oh, no. You can't possibly expect me to... why don't you do it?"

"Really?" Jasmine said, imitating Hermione's drawl from a minute before. "If it's so wrong for you to do it, why would it suddenly be OK for me to do it? Do you think I'm that horrible?"

"No," Hermione said, suddenly embarrassed. "I didn't mean to imply..."

"Yeah, well, you did," Jasmine said sternly, "But there are more important things to consider. First, I already have an elf bonded to me. Elves like work. They need work. I don't have enough work to give one elf, let alone two, but Dobby loves me so much that I think he'll be fine. Second, I know that you still want to improve the lives of elves, and while you can't do it the way you wanted — by just freeing them all — that doesn't mean that you won't figure out some other way in the future. However, I don't think your chances are good unless you understand elves first. What better way to understand them and their concerns than to be bonded to one?"

Hermione was taken aback by that argument. It seemed so counterintuitive at first — learn how to free slaves by owning a slave? But when she thought about it, she realized that Jasmine had a point. House elves were different enough from humans that she couldn't make too many assumptions about them. She would need to learn everything she could, and that meant going beyond books. At the very least she had to live with elves; unfortunately, being bonded to an elf would probably work best. If nothing else, she could take heart from knowing that Winky could be the first elf freed, if she could figure out how.

Finally, after debating back and forth with herself several times, she gave in. Partially. "Very well, I'll think about it. You're probably right, but I don't want to make a decision right away. And I'll want to talk to her first to see what she wants."

"That's fine," Jasmine replied, relieved. "Dobby!" With a loud pop, Dobby was suddenly standing there in front of the two witches.

"Missy Jazzy! Missy Hermy! What can Dobby do?"

At the unexpected exclamation of "Missy Hermy," Jasmine winced and Hermione frowned — she hated to have her name mangled for the creation of nicknames. Just as she was about to scold the eager house elf, however, the rest of what she'd just heard caught up with her.

Cocking an eyebrow at her green-eyed girlfriend, she said, "Missy Jazzy?"

Rolling her eyes, Jasmine responded, "It's not what I would choose, but it's better than what he wanted to use."

"And that was?"

Sighing, Jasmine turned to Dobby and said, "Why don't you tell her what you'd prefer to call me. Just this once, I'll let you use it."

Looking like he'd been given a lifetime supply of socks, Dobby jumped up and down and started singing, "She be The Great Mistress Jasmine Potter Ma'am, The Bestest Witch in Whole World!"

It started with just a snort, but Hermione's reaction quickly devolved into a full-on belly laugh. Once she regained control over herself, she returned Jasmine's glare with a smirk and said, "Right, then. If you can tolerate being called Missy Jazzy, I guess I can live with Missy Hermy." The smirk quickly turned into a glare of her own when she added, "But don't you ever even think about using that yourself. If you do, I'll make sure you end up looking and talking like a house elf all the time, not just with my name. Got it?"

Gulping, Jasmine nodded — Hermione didn't issue idle threats. Turning to Dobby, she said, "We'd like to talk to Winky. Do you think you can get her sobered up by..." she looked up at Hermione before finishing, "tomorrow evening, before dinner?" Hermione nodded her head in agreement.

"Oh, yes, Missy Jazzy. Dobby be having Winky sober by then."

"Good, thanks. We'll call for you when we're ready to talk to her. You can go back to your regular work now, Dobby. Thanks."

After Dobby popped away, Jasmine grabbed her girlfriend's hand and pulled her to her feet. She removed the spells from the door and said, "Let's go take a walk outside. We deserve a break after all that."

She couldn't see Hermione's smirk as she walked past her and out the door. "As you wish," she said as she left the room, "Mistress."

It took almost half a minute before Jasmine could get her brain unfrozen after that comment, and when she did she could see that Hermione was already running. Despite the large head start, she still nearly caught the bushy-haired witch by the time they got to the Entrance Hall.

Saturday, December 26, 1994, Evening.

"Wormtail! AAAAAAHHHHHH!"

"Yes, master? What is it?"

"We are in pain, you idiot! We feel like We're burning all over. What do you think? Crucio!"

"GAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!"

The Cruciatus Curse was more painful than any other dark curse, and those used by Lord Voldemort were among the worst that any wizard or witch had ever cast. This time, though, Peter Pettigrew thought that it might not have been as bad as previous sessions. Oh, the pain was incredible, but it was still a little less horrible than usual. Am I getting used to it? he wondered. Is that a good thing?

"Get up, Wormtail," shouted the deformed baby-thing that housed the tattered remnants of the soul of Tom Riddle. "Stop drooling all over yourself and do something about the pain We are feeling!"

"Ma-Master, I... I don't kn-know..."

"Crucio!"

Saturday, December 26, 1994, Night.

Once again ensconced in her bed late at night, Hermione set up to read and take notes on The Power of Love. She had already learned so much from this book, and she knew that she still had several times that much more knowledge to go through, given how many pages were left. She felt charged up with both the excitement of learning new things and the thrill of knowing that what she was learning was deemed illicit by the magical government.

Many of her fellow Gryffindors assumed that her regular harping on about rules and obedience meant that she was somehow obsessive about the rules. Their conclusion was understandable, but missed the mark. She believed in order and justice. In the past, she had honestly thought that adherence to rules and authority were the best means for achieving those goals. Though, if she were going to be brutally honest, the attention and respect she got from adults because she was so diligent in following rules helped a lot, too.

Ever since joining the magical community, though, she had been learning that its rules, laws, and authority figures weren't all in support of order and justice. Many, in fact, opposed both, and she could not abide that. That's why she got a bit of pleasure from breaking those rules and laws or defying such authority figures. It was a thrill borne from pursuing a righteous cause against unjust oppressors — though often from the relative safety of her bed or some other protected place. And she had to admit, the fact that rigidly upholding the rules and obeying authority figures no longer got her the same admiration or respect also helped.

While trying to figure out which section of the book to read next, an interesting topic heading caught her eye: Equality and Inequality in Bonded Relationships. Remembering what she had read a few days ago about the supposedly inherent, natural, and necessary inequality in all magical relationships — including especially marriage — Hermione was anxious to learn what Pureheart had to say on the subject.

Let's see, Hermione thought as she began reading. Traditionalists bemoan attempts to impose equality in the magical bonds of marriage... insist that marriage is necessarily unequal... and they are often correct? That can't be right! Looking more closely, Hermione read that it was exceedingly rare for both the magic and will of any two people to be perfectly equal, so if they became a couple, the bonding of their magic would lead to one inevitably dominating — even if only a tiny bit.

Trying to force equality between their magics by suppressing the magic of one or pushing the magic of the other only ended up causing more difficulties. The effects of magical inequality on a relationship varied, but if the difference wasn't too great and the couple put in enough time and work, then the magical inequality wouldn't produce practical inequality — or at least not much. However, Pureheart observed that most wizards and witches tended to be lazy on that score, so few bothered.

"I wonder if that explains some things about power and politics in the magical world?" she murmured to herself, considering how the magically powerful tended to dominate in so many areas of magical life. Then she frowned and decided that she'd have to talk to Professor McGonagall about it tomorrow, because it didn't sound right to her.

More than a bit disappointed, Hermione pushed ahead. True equality is possible, but rare. Anecdotally it's always possible with soul-bonded couples, but soul bonds are so rare that these details are uncertain.

That's interesting, Hermione thought. I wonder how that's supposed to work. Continuing on to the next section, she read that there were some purported techniques that could be used to reduce the effects of magical inequality. Hermione perked up at that and started reading more closely so as not to miss anything. Some couples with whom I have regular contact have found success by employing love and pleasure in bedroom games where dominant and submissive roles are switched back and forth regularly...

Hermione quickly slammed the book shut, her face growing hot in embarrassment. I'd heard somewhere about muggles doing things like that, but I never considered that witches and wizards might do it as well, she thought. And certainly not as something that might affect the magic in relationships! I'm not sure I'm ready to even read anything like that, let alone do it. I can't imagine ever being ready to do something like that.

Hermione's imagination, though, was difficult to stop, and her mind quickly returned to something she herself said earlier that day: Mistress is in charge of punishments.

"Oh, bloody hell!" she cried aloud.

As you wish.

"It was supposed to be a joke!"

Mistress.

Sighing, she let her head drop to her chest and said softly to herself, "Ugh! Bloody hormones..."