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Pareo: Obey	By : kateofallpeople Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 59757 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 9
Disclaimer: Don't own Harry Potter, characters, etc. I sadly make no money from this.

Chapter List
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AN: Not all of my tags would fit in the space above, so I'll list them all here: Anal, Angst, BDSM, ChallengeFic, Exhibitionism, Fingering, Handjob, Hetero, M/s, Oral, RapeFic, Sexual Harassment, Solo, Spank, Voyeurism, Wet Dream, WIP. Not all of these will guaranteed be included, but its possible, so I'm tagging this as such just to be safe. Enjoy!

It had happened in an instant, really. And it was over even sooner than it had started. Well, she said over - the spell hadn't faded.

Pareo!

She recognized the spell from a brief study of Latin - it meant obey. She'd never had the Imperius curse put on her, but she assumed that it felt a little like this had. They came from the same family of spells, the same linguistic origin. But Pareo was old magic - something she'd only heard of once, and only in passing. She hadn't been able to find out much about it, despite a longer study on spell groups and origins.

But the spell hit her, all the same.

Despite the fact that she was in the middle of a massive battle, despite the fact that she'd just seen Fred die minutes before and that she'd witnessed so much gore and sadness tonight... she felt a sudden comfort. Peace, almost. None of it had mattered anymore - she wasn't in control. It was out of her hands. She felt herself stepping forwards, raising her wand. Ron was so close, she thought she could probably hit him from here. She heard a voice in her head - a whisper, neither male nor female, or maybe both at once.

Kill him.

And kill him, she tried. But the jet of green missed Ron by half a foot - she'd never had the best aim - and once she'd turned again to try, she felt the release of control, a seizing in her chest. She looked around, stunned. What had she just tried to do? She looked towards Ron, who was none the wiser - he was caught in a duel with a brute of a Death Eater. She turned again to see a body fall - a frail, older man hidden under a hood and cloak, his arm outstretched in her direction, and what was unmistakably an Auror rushing off away from him. It had been the Death Eater to cast Pareo, she was sure of it, and it had been the Auror who had killed the Death Eater and left without a work. She didn't like the feeling. Someone had had control over her. She'd almost done the most unspeakable, awful thing she could think of. Without hesitating another moment, she turned on her heel and dashed up the stairs, past Ron, catching his attention. The two of them brought down the Death Eater and Hermione rushed to Ron's side, eager to get out of the thickest part of the battle. He gestured for her to follow him, whispered a half-formed plan. She followed. As long as it got her away from what had just happened, it was for the better.

Four Months Later...

It was the quietest start-of-term feast any of them had ever experienced. For the first years, it must have been a frightful day - leaving home, where they might have finally started to feel comfortable again, to go to Hogwarts, where the terrifying war from the year before had come to a gruesome close. Their only saving grace was that they hadn't known Hogwarts as the bright, cheery, amazing place that it had been before. Families had lost many - there were symbolic empty seats wherever they could be fit around tables in the hall. Not that there were many - due to the lack of educational substance in the previous year, all students had been sent a letter requesting their return for a repeat of that year's schooling. Some chose not to attend, many stayed home and were taught by their parents, but a large portion of students returned.

Not that it was all solemn - on the train, many students were reunited with their friends after a particularly quiet summer. Most parents didn't allow their children out on their own anymore, even those in their seventh (now eighth) year. Molly Weasley seemed to be the exception, and in fact let all people who had wandered after the war, come to find solace in her gnome-filled yard and the upper bedrooms of the Burrow. Hermione, Harry, Ron, Ginny, Luna, and Neville had all spent the summer there - consoling each other some days, laughing and celebrating their freedom the next. Ron had been by her side constantly, though the definition of the relationship between them varied. Some days they were just best friends as they had always been, but some nights he kissed her with a tenderness she'd never felt before, held her close, and brought her to bed with him, not releasing her until morning. (Not that he'd had to convince her otherwise, she stayed in his bed for the warmth and comfort and, at times, the physical contact as well.) The general outlook of the wizarding community was like that for four long months - half in mourning, half in celebration that they still had who and what they had at all.

To the mild shock of most, Hogwarts letters were mailed on time and with their usual wax stamp and promise of routine and stone walls. Some met the letter with horror, some with delight. Hermione had been among the latter, surprisingly along with both Harry and Ron. Neither wanted to stew in their sadness alone at the Burrow, and so both had resigned to coming back to school and trying to learn something of use to do with their next few years or until they could start Auror training, whichever came first. Hermione immediately accepted, halfway because she needed to know how many NEWTs she would receive. It was an important factor in the futures of all witches and wizards, war or not.

But the nearly jovial sense of reunion and companionship on the train had ceased as soon as it reached Hogwarts station. Parts of a high tower were still missing - thankfully one without anything dreadfully important inside, just a few classrooms and a spare astronomy tower that rarely went used - but the altered silhouette of the castle stunned most of the students on board into silence. The cheery face of their groundskeeper, Hagrid, was the only happy thing in sight besides the stars.

Hermione had been jerked back to reality by Harry muttering to her. "Hermione, hand me my bag." Without a word she'd reached over and hooked the strap around her hand, passing it to him. It was in her usual nature to do things such as this, but that wasn't the case anymore.

Pareo! It rang out in her head sometimes, in her dreams. At odd times. Whenever anyone asked her to do something and, as usual, she obliged. In the years before this curse she'd have done most of those things anyway - helped Molly around the house, gone with Ron to get new robes with part of his reward from his work in the war, de-gnomed the garden for the guests that had set up a small camp outside the Burrow, mend Harry's broken glasses on half a dozen occasions. Only now, she couldn't say no. She had done as much research as she could without alerting anyone to why, but had come up short. There was little written history or information about magic as old as this, and she doubted she could go around asking much about it without someone suspecting that she'd heard it in some serious context, let alone that it was affecting her even now, four months later.

She was drawn back to the present moment and the start of term feast by Ron, who had lightly nudged her with his elbow, his mouth full of chicken.

"'Mione? Can you pass the salt?"

She rolled her eyes, feeling her hand already raising to meet his request. Not that she was fighting it - she'd have said yes anyway, which made these sort of directions almost forgettable. She'd tried to resist these simplest of urges for a while - to say no - but found that her body would force her to do whatever it was anyway, and that on the nights she did try to fight it she would find herself fatigued or ill. She found it best to just give into it when asked a simple request. If she sensed something coming on that she specifically didn't want to do, she'd interrupt a sentence or change the subject, but had only had to resort to that once or twice, like when Molly had begun to insist that she and Hermione go into town just the two of them. A 'girl's day out', she'd called it. Not that Hermione didn't like Molly, of course, but Hermione herself was far from the type of girl that would enjoy window shopping and that sort of thing.

She passed the salt to her right, moved her arm back into place (and felt Ron's hand slide down to rest on her thigh), and listened to the cacophony of clinking silverware, plates, and goblets as the feast continued and then drew to a slow, clanking close. McGonagall stood, then - looking like she truly belonged at the head of the hall - and gave her speech, to a round of rousing applause. She spoke of the new year, and of a new Hogwarts. Houses would, for the most part, be abolished. Though they would all remain sorted and be sorted still, their dormitories would be the only thing that would remain strictly sorted by gender. Their Quidditch teams, classes, hall tables, schedules, and etcetera would all become mixed-house. Their dormitories would be arranged by signing up in lists, no longer even segregated by year for the purpose of allowing mixed-year and mixed-house siblings and friends to keep each other comfortable and in good company after their trying previous year.

Shortly after the meal, students dashed around to organize themselves into dormitories. Hermione found herself in roughly the same arrangement as before, with Lavender and Parvati clinging to each other. Padma joined them now, ushering Hermione over. Together they made four. Lastly, Hermione saw Ginny standing in the middle of a crowd with a rather scared sort of look on her face, and broke away to bring her into the group and round off their dormitory. Once the list was approved by McGonagall (who wanted no nonsense as far as boys and girls attempting to dorm together and was having quite the time shouting at a group of younger Slytherins who had tried) they walked through the halls of Hogwarts and up towards Gryffindor tower. It was still the place that four of them felt most comfortable in the castle, and Padma admitted she'd always wanted to belong there as well. All seemed perfect until they climbed through the portrait-hole. Hermione went through first and immediately ran smack into a tall, hard body with pale hair. No.

"Granger... fancy meeting you here. Thought I'd like a change of scenery this year... Gryffindor tower is much roomier than the dungeons were. I'm assuming you know my roommates - Blaise Zabini, Zacharias Smith, Justin Finch-Fletchley, Kieran Harper. A good band of abandoners, aren't we?" The group behind him chuckled as Hermione pulled herself up from the floor, eyes trained on Draco's.

"Abandoned fighting for the good of the wizarding world, did you? Good for you. The rest of us made something of ourselves and did the right thing!"

He sneered, stepping towards her. "I could have done the 'right' thing according to my father and the Dark Lord and stayed in the war and torn your pretty little head off, but I had other motives. I'd rather be here than Azkaban any day."

She glowered at him despite seeing some truth in his word. In no way did it make up for his awful character from the previous seven years, but it would at least keep her from attempting to toss him out of the tower tonight. Harry and Ron walked quickly towards them, finally seeing the disturbance, but Hermione held out her hand. She could manage on her own.

"Move, Draco. There are students trying to get through the portrait hole and into their dormitories and you're blocking the way."

"Oh, but I'm not. Your pert little arse is the one in the way, isn't it? Go on, scurry upstairs and wait for your girlfriends."

She felt her body shift away from the portrait hole. He had ordered her to move - not asked her, not suggested. He'd told her to go upstairs and wait. She felt her feet move, but turned her head as she walked.

"Anything, as long as it gets me farther from you." She trudged up the stairs and to the highest open door in the tower, thankfully unclaimed by younger students who probably had yet to decide who to room with. She sat on the center bed, crossed her legs, and listened carefully for the sounds of footsteps coming up the last stretch of stairs. She knew they'd ask - she knew they'd want to know why she gave in so easily, why she'd left the Gryffindor common room that she'd known and loved. And she'd have to feed them the lie she had created - because she was tired. Because she was frustrated. And because it sounded like a much better idea than getting expelled on her first day for causing immense bodily harm to Draco Malfoy.

The following few days and nights went on similarly to the first. Classes began, and though mixed-house classes were something to behold at first, their novelty soon wore off. Class was still class, homework was still homework, and only in the later hours of the night, as students gathered around to work on essays and study did the animosity between Draco's dorm mates and Harry's - and by some extension, Hermione's as well - lessen. In fact, in these later hours, most resigned to hardly notice each other at all. She missed the camaraderie that had existed before in this common room, but hadn't expected the same raucous happiness this year anyway. It was a change, nothing more. And things were changing still.

Hermione found herself obeying more and more. At times, when a question was asked in class - usually if it was phrased in the form of 'Tell me, what would happen if...' - she didn't even have time to put her hand up before the answer slipped or sprang from her mouth, rolling off her tongue and into the classroom before she could think twice. It wasn't as if too many of her classmates noticed this - she'd always been the know-it-all. But answering without following proper classroom etiquette was unlike her - she might have to try and work on this, if she were able to do so without passing out or making herself sick.

Towards the end of the last day of classes for the week, Hermione was dragging her bag back from Potions. She'd agreed to carry back Padma's books because she'd left early feeling ill and Lavender and Parvati had Care of Magical Creatures that afternoon instead of a study period. Padma, apparently, carried all of her books around, but as soon as Lavender had said 'Hermione can take her books back, she's got a free period after' the urge grew until she simply picked them up and slipped them into the small spare space in her bag. It wasn't even a direct order, it wasn't fair! But it was implied, in a conversation right next to her, and that was apparently enough for the curse. It seemed to be getting worse at times, and yet other days it would seem she could manage to get by on doing the bare minimum that a notion suggested.

Running into Draco Malfoy for the second time ruined that thought.

"Move it, Granger. I've got a class to go to."

Her next step went sideways instead of forwards - damn this curse! She'd have loved to have stayed in his way in the narrow corridor and made him late for class. Instead she pressed up against the stone wall, bag clutched in hand, and let him pass. He snickered, turning over his shoulder to toss another line at her.

"And apologize to your superiors, freak."

In a little voice - well, little compared to her usual annoyed tone with him, but loud enough for him to hear it a few meters down the hall - one statement fell out of her mouth.

"I'm sorry."

He froze for a moment, turning fully back to her. He looked angry at first, as if he thought she was mocking him, but his look settled into a complete confusion. His brow furrowed as he took a few steps towards her again, eyes stuck on hers. She forced herself to look at the ground again. This wasn't happening. It couldn't. This was twice in one week, and only the first week of term!

"What did you say to me?"

She twisted her face - wanting to convey her fear but unable to let that show through - into a sneer. "Only what a decent person would say. There's little wonder that I said it then, instead of you."

"You think me indecent?"

"I do. In fact, past indecent. I think you're a foul, iniquitous, disgusting piece of shit and I'd love for you to step as far back from me as humanly possible so that I don't have to endure your presence any longer Indecency is an understatement. I loathe you." She pulled herself off the wall, standing toe to toe with him. He looked as if he might retort - or draw his wand, she wasn't sure - but he only stepped back, glowering, and took off down the hall again. As soon as he turned a corner out of sight, Hermione sank down on the wall, letting out a sigh of relief. If he'd have found out... she was lucky she turned that one around... but if that was twice in just one week, think of what his usual bossy nature could do to her...

She rose again from the floor, eager to get to her dormitory and hide there the rest of the day. Maybe if she stayed away from him long enough, he would forget what had happened. She'd go see Harry and Ron at Dinner and then excuse herself to do work. Nobody would be the wiser. Nobody would ask why she was so resolutely avoiding the common room. And if she shut her curtains and ignored her dorm mates, nobody could tell her what to do for at least a little while.
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Pareo: Obey