Song Suggestion: Emmit Fenn- "Woman"

A/N: One of my wonderful readers created a discord for House Pet to discuss the fic. It's Titus-based, for those of you who want more of him. The server is called Butcher Bae (which the name is perfection, by the way lol). For my FFN readers, just indicate in the comments that you're interested (signed-in readers) or message me, and I'll try to send you the link.

A/N 2: I'm going to need to take off next Sunday, so the next update will be Nov. 20. Unless something comes up, I don't think I'll have another posting interruption until Christmas.

Trigger warning: sexual assault? Maybe. It depends on how you look at it. Grooming, because of the power difference.

A big thank you to my wonderful editor, MyPrivateInsanity.

Doppelgänger

Hermione obsessively checked the galleon, whispering Katie's name in the dark. It stayed black for a day, and then it turned a bright blue.

Hermione almost wept at the change, wishing to talk to her. It was torture not knowing what was wrong or how to fix it.

After that, there were three weeks of blue. Depression, Hermione decided, cradling the galleon to her heart. She wondered if Katie felt the love she sent to her through the stars, the pleas she gave to the old Gods. Did it cross the universe? Hermione didn't believe in any religion, but prayers dropped from her lips.

You're not alone, she whispered, willing it to travel on the air currents.

When the first green arrived, Hermione kissed the galleon. The next week it switched back and forth between blue and green, blue and green.

Then, finally, it stayed green, and Hermione almost let her concern for her friend rest.

But, shortly after, it turned yellow.

And it stayed yellow.

Like before, Hermione had nowhere to bury the worry except deep in her soul.


Before she knew it, summer ended, and gentle sunshine filtered through the window panes. Tabitha had returned several weeks before and was taking an afternoon nap, Titus was at work, and Theo went to get supplies for his upcoming internship at St. Mungo's, leaving Hermione by herself. Unfortunately, Theo hadn't been able to bring her back to Diagon Alley because of increased Order activity.

Hermione couldn't believe she thought it, but she missed Draco and his swaggering confidence— and his schemes that would, no doubt, get her in trouble again someday.

In the hours of boredom, Hermione's mind wandered, and she couldn't help but touch herself. She thought of Malfoy's hands trailing down her legs, scrunching her dress up, slipping his hands inside her knickers.

Be sure to masturbate to the thought of me.

She didn't want to. Draco was too egotistical as it was, but his words replayed in her mind as she rested on the bed.

Hermione let the desire flow through her and copied the movements in her mind. She ran her fingers along her legs, brushing the soft skin of her thighs.

Wet for me? Draco whispered in her ear.

She slipped off her knickers and pushed up the hem of her dress.

Do you want my fingers inside you?

Yes.

Hermione touched herself with practiced efficiency, knowing just the spots to bring herself pleasure. She groaned, turning her face to the side, imagining Draco's fingers… his cock.

She imagined it filling her as he moved over her, sliding in and out. The image she produced brought a visceral response, increasing the ache between her thighs.

She pushed her dress up further to get a better angle.

The door opened, and Titus walked into the room while taking off his gloves.

"Do you want to—."

Titus froze and so did Hermione. She had her dress up, legs spread at the perfect angle for him to see everything, fingers still resting on her clit.

"Fuck." Titus' voice was low. He took one step forward, eyes intent on her.

"Get out!" Hermione scrambled to pull down her dress, smoothing her skirts.

He stepped back and clenched his hand.

"Merlin… I'm sorry, Sprite."

He turned and left as if a ghost chased him.

When the door closed behind him, Hermione twisted and screamed into her pillow, wondering if it was possible to die from embarrassment.


Hermione stayed in her room the rest of the day. She'd be content to stay there for the rest of eternity and never face anyone ever again, but Bitty arrived in her room when she missed dinner.

"Master Titus wants Mistress Hermione to attend dinner."

"Didn't he already finish eating?"

"Master Titus is waiting. He told Bitty to put warming charms on the food."

Hermione cursed, burying her face in her hands. "Just tell him I'm not feeling well."

Her stomach growled. She'd need to exit her room and face him eventually, but she feared she'd self-combust.

"Master Titus said he's not leaving until Mistress Hermione comes to dinner. If she doesn't, Master will come and get her."

Titus entering her room again would be infinitely worse.

"Very well."

Hermione got up, making sure for the millionth time that her knickers were securely in place, her clothing was in order, and nothing could be seen.


Hermione ate her food in silence. She felt Titus' eyes on her occasionally as she forked up a bite of cottage pie. The food tasted like ash in her mouth, but she put her total concentration on her plate, watching as her dinner slowly disappeared with each bite.

Finally, Titus set his fork down and leaned back in his chair, blue eyes shining. She only glanced up long enough to see a lopsided smirk tilt the edge of his lip up.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"I'd rather give my soul to a Dementor." Hermione scooped up another bite, wishing the floor could swallow her. How could she ever look at him again? Maybe they both could be obliviated. She'd risk her brain scrambling, if she could be assured they'd both forget the incident.

"I should have knocked," he said.

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Everyone does it. It's perfectly natural to explore—"

Hermione slammed her fork on the table.

Titus barked out a laugh.

Hermione finally let herself meet his gaze, her whole chest spasming with mortification. His blue eyes glittered with mirth.

A small snort made its way involuntarily through her nose. They stared at each other for several more seconds, suspended in the tension, before they both burst out laughing at the same time.

When they finally calmed down, Titus' smile faded into something reflective. His eyes burned into her, examining her, and she once again wished to vanish from the intense inspection.

"It's nothing to be embarrassed about," he said. "Not with me."

That did nothing to get rid of the shame wanting to swallow her whole.

"I'm tired," Hermione said, wishing to exit the conversation. She was glad he'd forced her to face him, but she didn't know what to do with his expression. It reminded her of hunger, though he'd already eaten his food. She was afraid of what might happen if she explored it— afraid of what might change.

Titus lost his grin as she stood up, but he nodded his acceptance of her leaving.


Hermione rested by the pool on a plush chair, soaking in the sunshine. It had been raining for two weeks straight, and Hermione wanted to take advantage of the sun while she could.

A volley of water exited the pool and splashed against her. Hermione sat up with a shocked gasp, instantly furious.

"Theodore Nott!"

The target of her anger treaded water in the deep end, giving her one his most mischievous smirks.

"You're being boring."

"Oh, I'll show you boring!" Hermione got up, gave a running jump, and landed on her brother in the pool, making sure to dunk him. "You'll be lucky if I don't drown you for that," she sputtered out when she breached the water.

Theo only laughed harder as they continued to splash each other.

They spent the rest of the day in the pool, enjoying each other's company. When the sun began to dip in the afternoon, Hermione tugged herself up and out of the water, intent on sunbathing until she dried off enough to go back inside.

Hermione grabbed a towel Bitty had left. An instinct prickled along her neck— she was being watched. She searched for the source— and then suddenly looked up.

In the upper window, Titus stared down at her. She was close enough to see his intense gaze, eyes trained on her. They locked eyes for a moment before he stepped back and pulled the curtains closed.


Once dry, Hermione made her way inside the manor. When she walked past the living room, she heard the floo popping.

A woman stepped through with bleached blond hair and colorful makeup.

The muggle woman.

She'd been over several times since the first time Hermione had seen her. Usually, the woman gave her a sly smile, a taunting wave of her fingers, and then walked past without speaking.

This time the muggle stepped closer. Hermione fought her instinctive reaction to rear back and step away from the woman's proximity, forcing herself to stay still, knowing she was attempting to intimidate her.

"Is it wise to walk around like that?" The muggle asked.

"Like what?"

She was just in her swimming costume. Granted, it was a little small; she hadn't gotten a new one since last summer. Her breasts had gotten bigger, hips wider. The curves of a woman, Tabitha told her.

But she was in her own home, and she could walk around in whatever she wanted.

"I can see everything. Your nipples." The woman touched her breast and brushed her hand down. "Your pussy." Right before she reached the apex of her thighs, Hermione slapped her hand away. The magic stirred inside her veins, like it often did when threatened.

"Don't touch me."

"So very very tempting." She leaned in and Hermione scrambled back, unable to stand her ground anymore. "You should join us sometime. I think it would be enlightening."

"I'm going to tell Titus if you ever get near me again."

She only snorted out a laugh and gave a taunting wink.

"Do tell him. I'm afraid there are things the little doll doesn't understand yet."

"What are you talking about?"

"Like I said," she said. "Next time, you should join us."

Hermione let her lips curl in disgust as the woman walked out of the living room on her way to Titus.


Theo decided to get his own flat before his internship, because he wanted more independence. Though she understood why he did it, the separation gutted her, thinking of losing him all over again, despite his promise to floo home every weekend.

The morning he left, she spent most of the day sitting by the old south pond where they had spent most of their time as children. If she listened closely, she might have heard the faint echo of laughter, the splash of water. Time wasn't linear, so she believed there was a loop where she remained forever that carefree little girl, excited to find a water beast.

She was happy for Theo. She really was. Theo would do great as a healer, having a natural gentleness to him.

But she wasn't happy for herself. Everyone kept leaving her. Soon the boys would leave, and it wouldn't be too long after that Julie would too.

After several hours of feeling sorry for herself, she grew tired of the cloud of negativity. Instead, she went to the new stables Titus had built. She hated to admit it, but Titus was right—she loved the horses. There was a learning curve to riding, but she enjoyed it, finding it much less terrifying than broom travel.

Within thirty minutes, she was on top of a pretty dappled mare named Astria. Hermione sent her into a gallop across the fields, leaning low, imagining herself as a shooting star hurtling across the universe.

For a moment, she felt free.


A few days before her birthday, she went on a search for her cat.

After a thorough inspection of the bottom level, she found Crookshanks sprinting along the corridors.

"Come back," Hermione shouted. "I just want to love you."

Her cat was a prickly thing. He snuck into her bed at night, curling up near her side, but he tended to vanish in the morning. To where, she had no idea. Occasionally, like today, she'd catch sight of him, and she'd hunt him down until he was in her arms. And then she'd kiss his smooshed face until he meowed to get away.

Kneazles were solitary animals. The fact he slept with her showed he'd decided she was his human familiar, but he did what he wanted and wasn't as affectionate as a normal cat.

Crookshanks sprinted along until he took a sharp right into a room. She hesitated at the entrance.

Titus' study.

She'd been in it countless times. When he worked from home, she often sat on the chair in the corner, reading books while he filled out paperwork. She liked to be in the same room as him, listening to the comforting sound of quill scratching parchment.

But she'd never been inside it without him.

Hermione stepped past the doorway, feeling odd. On one side of the room was a bookshelf filled with law textbooks pertinent to his job. She'd never found them particularly interesting, and that was saying something.

"Crookshanks," she whispered. "Come on out, you naughty kitty. You aren't supposed to be in here."

She searched the room, until the last space that remained was under his desk. There she found her cat, looking at her with disdain, licking his paws. She pushed Titus' comfy office chair out of the way and crawled under the desk to get him. Crookshanks retreated further, and Hermione cursed under her breath.

Completely under the desk now, she scooped him up, cradling him to her chest. He was still young and small, though she could tell he'd get chunky soon enough.

She almost opened her mouth to admonish him when the door opened, followed by the unmistakable rhythm of Titus walking inside.

Soon after, a second pair of footsteps walked inside, shoes giving an odd click against the wood. It took a second to place the sound, and when she did, Hermione froze.

The muggle woman. Hermione panicked, not knowing what to do. Crawling out from under the desk would be mortifying.

Don't have sex, her mind chanted. Merlin, that might be worse than him walking in on her.

Should she wait it out, or should she make her presence known before things got out of control? At the moment, the heavy wooden panels hid her from view, but they might not for long.

Titus walked over, grabbed his chair, and twisted it sideways. Hermione stared at his trousers in horror, wondering when she'd be discovered. His expensive dragon hide boots slid against the rug as he collapsed against his office chair, legs spread. Now she had a perfect view of him, and she held her breath, sure he'd spot her at any moment. He'd already taken off his cloak, leaving his black dress shirt. His tie was missing and a few buttons on the shirt were undone; the sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, showing off his muscular forearms.

"The usual?" The woman asked.

Titus didn't answer. She noticed by the clench of his hands on the armrests that he'd entered interrogation mode. The veins showed with the pressure.

"Bitty told me you spoke to Hermione the last time you came here."

"I did."

"What did you say to her?"

"I told her she looked delectable in her little swimming costume. I'm sure you noticed. Such a curvy thing. I merely offered for her to join us."

"What the fuck did you just say?"

Titus' hands tightened more, and Hermione pressed her lips together, hoping Crookshanks didn't make a sound. Escape was out of the question. She'd just need to stay hidden until he left.

"I was curious what she thought. Unfortunately, she seemed put off by the idea— repulsed, actually. You may need to consider giving your affections to someone else."

His fingers clenched harder until his knuckles turned white, and then they loosened.

"Don't talk to her again."

"Yes, master."

Unlike when Hermione had said it, he didn't correct her. Hermione stifled a noise of surprise when Titus turned in his chair and opened a top drawer. It held his personal stash of potions, locked with blood wards. Some were dangerous. Some not. He had all sorts, including a healthy stock of Veritaserum and others he used for his job.

He extracted a nondescript potion, opening the lid. It looked like he added something to it, but Hermione couldn't see what.

The click of the woman's heels neared. When she got close, she took them off, kicking them aside, leaving her barefoot, and then she kneeled, in perfect view to see her. The woman looked over, and for one horrific moment, their eyes met. A flash of surprise crossed her expression, and Hermione almost felt like vomiting.

She braced herself for the embarrassment of being discovered. But the surprise vanished from the muggle's eyes, and then her attention went to Titus, grabbing the potion he extended to her.

Hermione despaired of getting out of the situation without being discovered, knowing things were about to start getting intimate.

The woman looked at her once more—a fast glance with an odd expression that Hermione might label as pity. And then she uncapped the potion, tipped back her head, and drank it.

As she watched, the woman's bleached blond hair extended into dark curls. Her skin darkened into a golden hue. Her body shortened a little. In the woman's skimpy clothes, she saw her hips widen, breasts shrinking just a little, looking softer in the top.

It took ten seconds to complete the transition. By the end, she was staring at her own doppelgänger.

Titus polyjuiced a muggle woman into her.

The woman now had Hermione's face, her body, her hair.

Her first emotion beyond shock was confusion.

Why would he do that?

But Hermione knew. A dark, secret part had always known— the kisses that lingered close to her lips, the hugs that lasted too long, the stares that felt heavy, the cryptic statements. Hermione might have been confused by the clues— she might have tried to deny them— but an instinct inside her knew.

She swayed and put a hand on the wood next to her head to steady herself.

The woman noticed her distress, giving a mocking grin, now devoid of pity.

Stupid girl, she seemed to say. Pretty little doll.

Titus placed his wand to the woman's clothes, and they transfigured into the beige swimming costume she'd worn that day with Theo. The woman had been right. It left nothing to the imagination, much too tight along her curves, showing the outline of every private area. With a brush of the woman's hand to her breast, her nipples stood erect against the cloth.

"So naughty." The woman ran a hand along the curve of her hip. "Maybe today you'll break that convoluted moral code of yours and shove your cock inside this delicious pussy."

Acid spiked up her throat at the thought. Hermione didn't have the language to express her thoughts. It felt wrong, despite it not being her. Very wrong.

"I don't pay you for your opinions." Titus said.

The woman only let one eyebrow raise, but she scooted forward, and when she got close enough, she reached forward and tugged at his belt and then unzipped Titus' trousers. He helped her push down the clothing with a tilt of his hips up, just enough to pull out his cock.

Hermione tried to look away—she really did— but she couldn't. The only other cock she'd seen had been Draco's. They looked similar, except Draco's might be longer. Titus seemed a little thicker, though it was hard to tell. A morbid part of her was fascinated with it. The beat of her heart traveled down her body, transforming into the familiar pulsing sensation of arousal that she couldn't stop.

The woman leaned down, but Titus stopped her.

"Wait."

The woman looked at him with familiar eyes. Doe eyes, Tabitha had told her once. Hermione had long eyelashes, framing dark eyes. She'd always thought they were her best feature, but now they looked wrong on a different body.

Titus cradled her cheek.

"You're so beautiful." He brushed a thumb along her lip. The woman opened her mouth to let his thumb enter, touching her teeth. "Don't be afraid. I'd never hurt you."

He wasn't saying this to the muggle.

He was saying this to Hermione.

Hermione put her fist in her mouth and bit down hard. She hated that a part of her burned with his words, heat pooling low, nerves pulled tight, though it was tempered by fear. How could she be responding to this?

The woman gave a little nod without speaking and slowly leaned forward, keeping his stare.

She grabbed his cock and gave a lick from the base to the tip, swirling her tongue at the end.

He groaned, but he reached out and grabbed her hair near her skull.

"A little too experienced," his voice rumbled low. "She's a virgin."

A flash of something passed the woman's face and then she leaned over and took Titus in her mouth. Hermione knew a person could technically put their mouth on a cock. She still remembered Blaise's threat, but seeing it was something else. The muggle seemed to struggle fitting it.

"Just like that," he breathed out, now threading both hands in her hair. "You're doing so good."

From there, it was a series of low groans, a few whispers of affection. Hermione couldn't rip her eyes away. Listening to her name mumbled on his lips in pleasure made all of the hair on her arms stand on end. Her nipples tightened under her shirt. She almost reached a hand down to press against her clit, wondering how she could feel desire while also feeling revulsion.

"Take all of me," he demanded. "I know you can do it. Fuck, yes, like that. That's my girl. So eager to learn how to please me. Let me teach you how. I'll make you feel so good. You're—fuck—you're mine."

The woman's eyes watered as Titus tilted his hips up, pulling her head down by her curls. And then he stilled with a strangled groan.

Hermione watched in horrified fascination as the muggle woman expertly swallowed his release.

When done, he tugged out. The woman sat back and wiped her mouth. Titus stared at the fake Hermione. She could admit she made quite the sight on her knees, a drop of cum on her lips, mouth swollen, curls electrified, showing off her tight nipples and every curve.

"Bloody hell." He ran a hand over his face and though his hair then leaned his head back with a deep groan, as if in pain.

The woman gave a soft mocking laugh, wiping her mouth again.

"Every time you finish you seem to hate yourself. Is the Butcher finally feeling guilty about something?"

This woman had absolutely no filter.

Titus didn't answer, staring at the ceiling. Then he squeezed his eyes shut tightly.

"I shouldn't be doing this, but I—it's better than pursuing her. I'm not sure why I'm even talking to a whore about this."

"Because I'm a woman, and you don't have anyone else to discuss it with."

Titus frowned and straightened his neck to look at her. He ran a hand across the stubble on his cheek, and then clenched his jaw.

"You're unfortunately correct. What would you suggest I do?"

"Does she know how you feel about her?" the woman asked, standing up and walking out of Hermione's sight. Hemione was grateful she couldn't see her anymore.

It would be enlightening, the woman had said. She'd been trying to warn her from the beginning.

"No," Titus said with a sigh. "She's too innocent, and there's a boundary there that I'm hesitant to cross. Not yet, at least. The only thing she's ever done is kiss Draco fucking Malfoy." He snorted and reached down and tugged up his trousers, zipping and buttoning until back to normal.

"Well, there's your answer. Maybe you could start by kissing her. See if she's receptive."

The woman spoke as if she didn't know Hermione was hidden right under both their noses.

"I've tried. She's not ready. I don't want to scare her."

The woman let out a laugh.

"Good luck with that," the woman mocked. The words seemed directed toward Hermione.

The woman grabbed her discarded heels and turned as if to leave, but Titus reached back over to the drawer, and Hermione once again held her breath in fear. He pulled out another potion.

"Drink this to get rid of the Polyjuice."

She assumed the woman took the vial.

"You wizards are really fucked up. All you need to do is drink something and you become another person. The things that could be done—"

"I'd suggest you don't irritate me. The only reason I allow a filthy muggle like you in my home is because I can't risk this getting out in circles that matter. But… if you really push it, I can silence you too."

"Aye aye, captain."

Would he really kill someone over just the idea of her talking to the wrong person?

Hermione was afraid of the answer, afraid of the implications to her own life. A single moment in time, and nearly twelve years shifted. Her foundation fractured.

Hermione waited under the desk as the woman walked out without another word, whispering silent pleas to the universe for Titus to walk out too, so she could escape and sort through what she'd just seen. But he just sat there, a pensive emotion pinning him in place.

When it seemed like he might finally stand, her traitorous cat meowed. Titus twisted in his chair at the noise and looked under the desk.

Their eyes met. His widened.

"Sprite?"

They stared at each other in horror. She watched the progression of understanding in his expression. The way his brow smoothed, mouth open to see a flash of white teeth.

"Did you see— oh, fuck!"

The word snapped her out of her trance.

Hermione scrambled out, nearly tripping on her dress in her haste. Titus attempted to grab her arm, but she deftly avoided his hold. She didn't look back as she sprinted out of the room, hurtling down the corridors, ignoring the whispering portraits, ignoring Titus' shouts of her name.

Hermione didn't stop running until she made it to the treehouse.

Sitting in the middle of the old candles, she curled her knees to her chest and allowed herself to hyperventilate, trembling in fear, hating that her body was still aroused when she shouldn't be.