Chapter 3: Trust
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Harry begrudgingly ascended the steps leading to the Hogwarts' castle gates. His request last night had garnered an immediate response from McGonagall.
'Headmistress office. Noon tomorrow.'
Harry pocketed the note while joking to himself, "Off to detention, it seems."
It was early morning and the sun was still behind the castle towers, from where it cast long shadows across the main entry gate in the distance. A gate which was locked on Harry's approach. With his first attempt to enter having failed, Harry glanced at his surroundings. He wondered, did they expect him to arrive by floo instead?
"Harry?" Nevile's head popped up as he waved at him from the other side of the castle gate. "McGonagall said someone was arriving for a meeting. She never mentioned it was you."
Nevile's current appearance was a little worse for wear. His left pant leg torn at the knee, green spikes stuck in up to the hip and his elbow dripped a yellow oozing sap.
"Come to join us faculty for next year?"
"No. Not today."
"Shame. Would have been fun. Did you know there's talk about Draco joining as the new potions teacher soon?"
Harry's eyes widened. "You're joking, Malfoy?"
Nevile shrugged as his wand opened the gate. "McGonagall's been trying to bring in younger and well-known witches and wizards from the wartime. Trying to boost confidence in the school."
"Well, now I'm sure I don't want the job."
"O, he's not that bad. I've kept in touch. Actually, Hanna's kept in touch with Astoria. I don't really go out of my way, per se."
They paused outside the main door. Glancing up, Harry could see the newer brick patterned into the old. The shape reminded him of his faded lightning bolt scar. Repairs from the battle of Hogwarts had taken months. Some damage was easily fixed. Other damage, that from dark magic, was another matter.
"Well, good luck with whatever it is you're working on. I need to get back to the greenhouses. This early in the season, they're a variable riot of activity. I trust you can find your way from here." Nevile waved and limp away happily.
Harry watched Nevile leave with a bemused expression on his face. Entering the castle, Harry was halfway up the grand staircase when a familiar voice rang out from his left.
"Harry?"
He froze. This was not a conversation he had any interest in dealing with today, or any day for that matter.
Daphne Greengrass stepped confidently down the corridor, the click of her heals echoing off the walls, until she stood within arm's reach. Her violet eyes examined him from head to foot. Harry felt like an insect, or maybe Hippogriff, up for inspection.
"A pleasure." He answered, "I was not aware you'd taken a position at Hogwarts."
Her smile matched his. It failed to reach her eyes. "Arithmancy, you do remember my work on a mastery all those years ago?"
"Vaguely." Harry forced his eyes to stay locked on her face. Her attire should not be appropriate for a Hogwarts teacher, with the amount of cleavage on display.
Daphne always dressed provocatively, and today was no different. A flowing robe hung at her shoulders, hanging open to reveal tight fitting designer pants which cut off before the ankle. Her green blouse held tight to her with a wide leather corset that only acted to emphasize her existing cleavage. She had been tall for her age. And now, despite topping in at six feet, she always found reason to wear three inch heals.
"You are not here to see McGonagall about the Defense Professor role, are you?"
Harry resumed his walk. Daphne kept pace.
"To see McGonagall, yes. But teaching, no."
"Good."
Harry stop and glared up at her. "Good?"
"I never doubt your ability on the subject, Harry. But teaching? No, the education of children is not your primary interest."
"I certainly could take the position if I wanted to. I taught my fellow students in our fifth and six years." Why was he arguing about this? He agreed with her. Somehow Daphne always drew things into an argument.
"Don't argue a broken case, like a little boy, Harry. We dated long enough for me to know you better."
Harry narrowed his eyes. "Your trying to provoke me."
She merely raised a single eyebrow.
Shaking his head, Harry continued his walk. "I don't have the time for your games, Daphne. Go play with one of your current subs."
"Tracy is not my submissive Harry."
"So you don't have her call you Mistress at home, or Dominatrix?"
Her high, angelic laughter rang up the corridor. "Daphne the Dominatrix. It is always so strange when people call me that." She studied her blood-red painted nails. "I don't think of myself as a dominatrix."
"It's what you are though, isn't it. Every relationship you have is about control. Control and punishment."
"Is that what you believe a dominatrix is, Harry?"
Harry shrugged. "You're a woman who enjoys beating on men, and now other women too."
"Then no. Pain isn't my preferred fetish."
"My backside remembers otherwise."
"Your backside, Harry, nearly killed me."
Daphne was more right than she knew. Back then, they'd been dating for about five months. Nothing serious at first, mostly friends bonding over Arithmancy and Runes. Of which, Harry had a decent sized collection in his library.
The sexual tension had been high between them when finally, one late afternoon, he'd kissed her. It was passionate and exciting at first. But when Harry had tried to go further, Daphne had pushed back.
"Wait." She held him at arms' length. "Harry, I'm not someone who has ordinary sex. I…well — I prefer my pleasure from a more…dominate and controlling method."
Harry thought back to how Susan like to be tied up and abused. "You mean like bondage and stuff?"
Daphne nodded. "Is this something you'd do for me?"
Harry considered. It wasn't really his thing. But it had been fun with Susan. He nodded his acknowledgement.
Daphne's smile lit up the room and she kissed him hard. "This is going to be so much fun."
Before he could react, Daphne waved her wand to remove her clothes.
Harry found his own clothes removed before ropes appeared and bound him hand and foot.
"Daphne?"
An invisible force pulled him to his knees. "Um…Daphne…I was kinda picturing tying you up, not the other way around."
Daphne now towered over him. "Turn around is fair play. If you're a good boy, I'll let you go next."
His bound hands brought forth an uneasy voice in the back of his head. A static of distant voices. Something he couldn't identify.
The click of Daphne's open-toed heals rang on the stone floor as she step up in front of him. Her height, amplified by the heals put her sex at the exact right position for his head.
"Mmmm…now this is more like it, Harry." She ran her right hand through his hair. "This is the hottest sight I've seen in a while. Can you smell how turned on I am? Because of you."
He opened his mouth to reply, but found it full of her pussy as she yanked his head into place.
"Never mind answering, just show me how much you want me with your tongue."
Harry had little choice but to bury his tongue as deep as he could. She tasted different from Susan. Sweet and juicy, she reminded him more of a tangy fruit verse Susan's earthy flavor.
Daphne gripped his hair hard and ground her clit against his nose in little circles. She must have been turned on, because Harry found his mouth flooded with her cum in less than a minute.
After drenching his face in cum, she took a step back and then brought her foot up to rest it on his face. Her foot magically pulled his head forward and down to the floor until Harry found himself somehow stuck in place, head resting on the tops of her feet.
Harry strained at his binds, unable to move his head and arms. His helplessness brought a slight panic, and the static in his head grew louder.
"Now for the real fun, pet."
WACK
Harry jerked as an invisible hand spanked him across his left butt cheek.
"A little pain first." Daphne chuckled. "And now, a little pleasure."
At her comment, an invisible hand began tugging slowly at his penis.
WACK
Harry moaned as the duel sensations worked together. The hand on his cock sped up as Daphne continued her assault.
WACK…WACK…WACK
He lost the mental battle as panic spread through his mind. A voice responded to his plight and an unknown magic swelled up inside him.
"Harry? What—"
Daphne could not complete her question as dark green lightning filled the room. Starting at a bookcase on his left and then cutting through the room, it upended the tables, burned chairs and caught Daphne across the chest. She was sent spiraling across the room and into a door, where she crumpled to the floor, unconscious.
Harry found his bindings turned to dust as he struggled to his feet and raced over to her unmoving form.
"Shit, Daphne? Are you ok?"
Her body was unmarked from the lightning, but her breathing was shallow and her body unresponsive to his touch. He recovered her wand to cast a series of healing spells.
Slowly, she opened her eyes and sat up. "What was that?"
"Sorry, I guess there's a part of me that refuses to submit to anyone else."
Daphne shook her head and took back her wand. She leaned away from him in fear. "I've never encountered accidental magic from a little bondage. That wasn't you. What was that magic?"
Harry turned his head, refusing to answer.
"Fine, Potter. Don't tell me." Daphne stood up and used magic to dress herself. "I need to lie down. That punch took a lot out of me."
"Daphne, I'm sorry about—"
"Its alright Harry. Maybe I pushed too fast. Let's talk about this later." She fled through the doorway.
They hadn't talk about it. He'd never seen her since. Not until today, in the Hogwarts hallway, on his way to the Head office.
Harry stopped in front of the Griffon leading to the Head office. He turned to face Daphne. "If pain isn't your fetish, then what is?"
Daphne ran a hand through her dark curls. Capturing them across one shoulder to lie covering her right breast. "Trust."
"Trust isn't a fetish." Harry replied.
"That is only one opinion."
"And your opinion?"
Daphne leaned into him. Her scent assaulted his body. He could smell peaches…ripe peaches and freshly cleaned linen. Harry could also pick up the smell of her sex, which brought up memories of being smothered, fighting to breathe through her feet, her legs above his head.
Unwilling to give ground, he tightened his posture and craned his neck upward to match her gaze.
"My fetish is a man putting his trust in me. Having him strapped down, pleading from all the pain and pleasure I have already brought to his body, yet not using his safe world because he trusts me. Giving himself to me. Allowing me to push him to him limits. Fearing from the possibility I would break his soul — but giving himself over to me fully, trusting I will keep him safe."
She leaned back and gave a sad smile. "And my fetish is having someone who will admit to being afraid, and admit when he is wrong because he trusts me not to judge him for it."
With one last glance, she turned on the spot and continued walking down the hallway. "Until our next meeting, Mister Potter."
Harry watched her go around the corner before muttering under his breath, "Not likely. Trust. What hogwash. People don't surrender to others like that. First Draco and now Daphne. I want nothing to do with Hogwarts."
Taking the stairs two at a time, Harry made his way into the head office. Compared to Dumbledore, McGonagall preferred the spartan approach. Gone were rows of trinkets and layers of bookcases. Instead, there was an openness that felt calm and inviting.
Harry studied the many prior head portraits until he spotted Dumbledore in the back, asleep in his frame.
"What in heaven's name do you want access to the forbidden section for?"
Harry brought his attention back to the women behind the desk. "I'm looking for a copy of Writherwoods runic rituals. And, hopefully, Sepheroth's Scrying Symbols. They are scarce these days."
"And what makes you think they are here? At Hogwarts?"
"Dumbledore had a copy and most of his books made their way there after his passing. Also, I discussed this very topic with Bill Weasley last year. He claimed to have run across them while studying his curse breaker's advancement course."
"I am not in the business of handing out Hogwarts materials to passing wizards. And you, mister Potter, are not part of the Hogwarts Staff or student body."
Harry cut off her line of discussion by pulling a large manuscript from a pouch on his hip and hefting it onto an open area of the desk.
"First draft. The fifth year's DADA manuscript we discussed last year. You said you wanted it ready for the new year's student body. I did a complete rewrite and many of the topics are now cross-referenced with the ministries' owl test requirements."
McGonagall sat speechless for half a minute before responding.
"This is certainly earlier than even I expected. How, in Merlin's name, did you get the ministry to play along so quickly? And even provide you with their test requirements? Lord knowns I've had a hard enough time as it is getting that kind of response as Headmistress."
"I bribed them."
"You what?"
Harry turned his head and took in the sleeping portraits. "I mean, I applied the correct force at the proper locations to motivate the right people." Grinning at her he added, "All perfectly legal, I assure you."
She pinched the bridge of her nose. "I'll just pretend this conversation never occurred and take your manuscript under review."
Harry stood up to leave.
"One week. And then I want any materials borrowed returned." Smiling she added, "it might be the influence of Grimmauld Place, but you're turning more into my memory of Lord Black every year. And I mean that in the best possible way. Sirius' grandfather was always one for getting things done."
"Right…If there is nothing else, I'll make my way to the library now."
"Good bye, Mister Potter. My fourth year students are looking forward to your next book."
Before lunchtime, Harry was in his second-floor study at Grimmauld Place. New books in hand. Devising the proper rune array would take time. Sepheroph's book alone was over four hundred pages. He chuckled to himself. Hermione's voice spoke in his head, just checked this out for a bit of light reading.
With a sigh, Harry adjusted himself into the leather chair by the fire and began to read. A quill and parchment floated to his left to record any notes spoken out loud. The rune symbols were fascinating and Harry was soon lost in the book.
A ping echoed from his workbench. Startled, Harry sat up.
"Wow, five already." Hmm, get a head start on the rune design, or visit Gabby early?
The empty room responded to his question with silence…it's ever consistent opinion. Harry found, for the first time in a long while, he was craving company. A certain blue eyed, platinum-haired witch in particular.
Mind made up, entered the fireplace after making sure he was refreshed and presentable for the night. On exiting, his way blocked by an invisible barrier. The field extended across the entire room in an arc that bubbled around the fireplace.
"Curious?" Harry mused, tracing along the surface, letting the energy arc through his fingertips. The ward bubble spoke of pain and suffering for any attempting to cross. While the design was unfamiliar to him, Harry immediately picked out two weak points, almost too tiny to detect. No ward is perfect, he mused to himself. There. Along a key inflection line…
Fluer danced into the room, drawing him out of his thoughts. She was no doubt alerted to his entrance through some magical alarm.
'Arry. Welcome to our 'umbe abode."
She raised her wand at the ceiling, and the barrier shimmered and dissolved away.
Harry took in the sight of Fluer Weasley. She was very pregnant. And yet Harry couldn't help but note her thin and fit appearance. Any pregnancy fat visible on her body somehow only added to her beauty. Apparently, pregnancy did not hinder a Veela.
"I should have known Bill's house would have some impressive wards. I've not encountered an actual nesting shell ward in practice before."
"Merci. It is actually a collaborative effort. Even now, after ze war… Well, a Veela can not be too careful 'arry. Liked or disliked, 'zere are groups zat would target us for who we are."
Harry nodded, unsure of how to respond.
"Come. Are you 'ere to see Gabrielle, yes? Ze'll be most pleased at your visit."
Harry followed her to the next room.
"She ez watching Victoria at ze moment. I offered to 'elp earlier but ze wouldn't 'ear of it. I'm amazed really. Bill would never accuse me of being a poor mother, yet dealing with children is not my strongest attribute. Gabrielle, on ze other 'and, she will make an amazing mother one day, I am certain."
Harry could make out the voice of singing in French coming from the next room. The song brought up unfamiliar emotions.
Entering the playroom, Harry couldn't help but smile at the sight. The pink carpeted floor was littered with dolls, blocks, and crafts. A small bed held a blonde-haired toddler, asleep face-down. But it was the girl perched next to the bed that drew Harry's smile.
Dressed in matching pink sweats and crop top shirt, the barefoot Gabrielle looked like she'd gone three rounds with a Hungarian Horntail. Normally, her hair was smooth. But at the moment, she would give Hermione a run for her money in the frazzled department. Some strands even floated toward the ceiling and there was a burn mark on the side of her shirt, which exposed her lack of a bra.
At their entrance, Gabrielle's song quieted as her head turned toward them. Her glare was the perfect imitation of a protective mother bird, warning off intruders. When she caught sight of Harry, though, she let out a squeak, and dance across the floor to shush them out of the room.
"Vicy is finally asleep and zould stay down for the night." Gabby smiled at Harry before she blushed and franticly tried to flatten her hair. "What are you doing 'arry? I thought I said eight."
"Things went quicker than I expected at Hogwarts and…well, I wanted to see you."
"I'm flattered, but I'm not ready to go out and I promised Fluer I'd stay past seven."
"Nonsense ma soeur, I can keep a sleeping toddler. You must get ready so 'arry can take you out on ze town."
Fluer pushed a reluctant Gabrielle into the next door over before leading Harry back to the sitting room. Entering, Harry turned to find Fluer confront him, a hard look on her face.
"So… 'arry. I expect you to be ze perfect gentleman."
"Of course Fluer. I would never take advantage of someone."
Fluer's hand came up and a long, thin finger pressing into his chest. "You will show 'er a good time around ze town. You two will not get into any trouble while out and I expect a glowing report from Gabby when you bring her 'ome…tomorrow morning."
"I'll take good care of—" he blinked, "Wait…what?"
"Do I make myself clear?" Her head tilted, smirking as she moved past, "Glowing."
In less than twenty minutes Gabrielle rejoined them, hair and face smooth and immaculate. She wore a flower pattered sundress that covered her knees yet left her shoulders bare. Strappy sandals, a matching bracelet, and a flower brooch completed the outfit. Harry tried not to stare. For once, he was not only staring at her breasts.
"You look beautiful, Gabby."
"Merci. You are not saying zis to try to make up for ze state of dress you caught me in earlier?"
"No." Harry answered in confusion, "Why, what was wrong with your prior look. I thought you were quite beautiful then, too."
Harry caught Gabrielle's eyes sending daggers over his shoulder. He turned to see Fluer behind him, a look of perfect innocence on her face.
"Shall we? We could start by apparating to King's Cross."
"You're really taking 'er to the muggle side?" Fluer said in a shocked voice.
"It will be fun." Harry said.
"Alright 'arry, I'll apperate us to Kings Cross." Gabrielle held out her hand. Harry instinctively flinched back at the offer of side-along Aparition.
"I'll take you." Harry answered with a small smile.
"Side-along? But Harry, you're not carrying a wand."
"I don't need one. Apparition is about intent and focus, not power." Harry took her hand in his, worry still clear on her face. "Trust me."
Gabby's worry turned into a smile as she step into him before answering, "Always, Harry." They disappeared with a pop.
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