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The Pet	By : ellerynocturne Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female Views: 3154 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-The Pet
- 2-Two
- 3-Three
- 4-Four
- 3
- 4

Disclaimer I only write fanfiction for fun, and the only things I claim as mine are the original characters I create and the plot of the fic; which isn�t much, really.

One Last Advisory Potion fetish, occlumency fetish.

SPOILERS FOR BOOK FIVE AKA ORDER OF THE PHOENIX, AFTER CHAPTER ONE

Four

Days often went by before anyone saw Ink emerge from the bedroom. He was thin and losing weight rapidly, but seemed not to notice. It was as though a living ghost had come into their lives, who was less talkative than a real ghost, and only frightening in that one knew he was alive and yet he would not talk in more than a whisper, less if he could get away with silence. The students speculated on him; this twenty-three year old boy with his too-wide hips and his too-pretty face, long curls and black eighteenth-century clothes. Hermione figured him out first, but even her much-agreed upon theory that he was a muggle was un-provable. If muggle he was, then why had the ministry not gotten involved? What if he had been a prisoner? What had befallen him? His family? Why did he not speak? Why did he not allow touch, protecting himself with layers of clothing?

Clues were given, but not many. Ink liked jazz, they found this out after Lupin put on a record and the boy had wandered down, lurking in the hall to listen. Ink knew Tarot, this was discovered when corrections were found all over Ron�s notes after they had been left out on the table overnight. Strikeouts and additions, as well as a small rant at the bottom about how Tarot was not divination, it was merely a forecast of the most likely outcome given the Querent�s current actions. Most curious of all was the boy�s scattered knowledge of everyone; full names were the most common clue. It was not enough for the kids that Snape may have told Ink about the residents of the house�there were too many and Snape cared too little about people for him to have done it. Ink knew everyone�s name, though he rarely spoke at all. The muggle theory was supported by the lack of wand; Ink didn�t seem to have one. Whether it had been snapped or not, no one knew. Innocent victim or brainwashed former spy, Ink was still eerie, and most were avoidant of him after a fortnight.

However, there was one other clue that Hermione had not mentioned to anyone: Ink seemed to be sweet on her. Poems were written on tiny slips of parchment and slipped into her books, haikus extolling her beauty and sonnets rejoicing in her intelligence. This confused Hermione greatly, because it was obvious that Ink was besotted with Snape. As was her habit when confused, she ventured into research, writing her parents and telling them everything Ink, then asking for books. They sent back a letter from one of Hermione�s aunts:

Dear Hermione,

This Ink seems to be a puzzling young man�how appropriate that he�s chosen you to be sweet on, given your Holmesian nature. Now, I know you don�t want to hear someone else telling you this, but you�re fifteen and he�s twenty-three. That�s eight years of age difference, which didn�t matter not so long ago, but even if it still didn�t, you�re a minor so don�t do anything risky. Perhaps I�m being overwary�you don�t seem to be the most horny young doe in the world, and Ink sounds like he�s afraid to even look at you twice. Still, I need to say things like that or I wouldn�t be a proper mentor, would I?

Now, about your query: you�ve described a textbook example of polyamoury. People who are truly this way are rare�most people use the term to make sluttishness sound like a philosophical life decision, rather than irresponsibility and addiction. However, there are people who truly love many, or are capable. The difference of course is that it is many love, not many sex.

As for you and your friend Harry�s concerns about abuse, I will say that what you describe is much different from abuse. You didn�t mention that Ink is frightened of your professor, and you did describe some very important clues: Ink is taken care of as well as serving his �master�, as well as his stubbornness during that conversation where people addressed him as being in an abusive relationship�and his embarrassment that the subject was being brought up. The comment of �twenty-three, can do what I want� also pointed out to me that the relationship was probably sexual in nature. I know you must be cringing now at that thought, but I do believe you will survive it. Look up �Dominance and Submission� or �D/s� on an internet encyclopaedia.

Additionally, it sounds like Ink is a victim of previous abuse, and bad abuse at that. All I can advise you to do is to be supportive and show him you care.

I love talking with you, dear little Sherlock; I�d love to meet these intriguing characters that your life seems filled with now, but I do understand that I am quite a strange old bat and perhaps you want to keep me to yourself.

Aunt Pen

Hermione read the letter over, smiling wistfully at the end. Oh I wish you could, auntie; I sometimes think you and Dumbledore would get along so well. Rereading the information, Hermione smiled. Long before she had gone to Hogwarts, her aunt had read her Sherlock Holmes and they had spent long hours playing mystery games in the widow�s old Victorian house. Thus, Hermione had become very adept at noticing details and reporting them; that had come in so handy now, and her aunt�s wisdom and knowledge cheered her greatly. Of the kids, Hermione was the only one�she felt�who had trusted Dumbledore�s judgement and tried to see the good in Snape. He was a man full of hurt and bitterness, that much she knew; but that was just it: pain was the seed of his rancour, which made her feel like helping him. He wasn�t evil, just�mal-adjusted, perhaps.

Folding the letter up, Hermione crept softly from her room so as not to wake Ginny, and slipped quietly through the hall to see if Ink was awake. She wasn�t sure if Snape was there, but tapped softly on the door to his and Ink�s bedroom, as it didn�t hurt to try. There was the sound of footsteps, and the door opened enough for Ink to look out. His hair was damp, but he looked awake. Seeing Hermione, he broke his neutral mask of a face to smile just briefly.

� �lo miss Granger,� he said�truly said, for finally Hermione heard a voice from him; it was low and just as androgynous as he looked.

�Hello, Ink,� Hermione said, unable to help smiling. �Would you like to have breakfast with me?�

�Yes,� Ink replied, �I�m in the middle of my toilette, however. I�ll join you in a bit.� And he shut the door. Hermione stood stunned, staring at where Ink�s face had been. He�d spoken in a full, grammatically correct sentence. Two, even! With multi-syllabic words! She took that as progress, and waited outside the door patiently, watching the dawn light get stronger through the window at the end of the hall.

Soon, Ink emerged, wearing his usual attire, his curls damp and not in their usual queue; in this moment, Hermione was stricken with how very much like a girl Ink looked. Seeing no way to ask politely, Hermione simply let the idea be, filing it away.

Once they were in the kitchen, Ink spoke again.

�Let�s eat in my room. It�s quiet there.�

�Alright,� Hermione agreed; privately she was a little afraid of going into Snape�s room, but it was also Ink�s room so she supposed that was alright. Together they gathered up breakfast for two in companionable silence. Hermione wondered if Ink was a quiet person normally, as he seemed more than capable of expressing himself verbally.

�Ink,� Hermione said as she was making orange juice for them. �Why don�t you speak to anyone?�

�Master told me not to,� Ink answered, handing her another pair of orange halves. �It�s easier if I don�t talk, anyway. He knows I don�t want to talk about anything, and he knows that everyone would have asked me all about it.�

�Oh,� answered Hermione, reflecting at how clever that was and simultaneously fighting an urge to ask all about �it�.

�I�ll tell you, but only you. If you tell anyone any part I�� he trailed off miserably, not having a threat. Hermione felt for him, and nodded, letting her sticky hands linger on the next halved orange. It was as close to touch as she could get without making Ink recoil. For his part, the boy smiled softly, breaking his blank expression again. He touched her fingers with his before letting go. �Thank you,� he whispered, though it was a normal one, not the unnatural hiss from before.

Putting the pitcher of fresh juice and the toast on a tray, Ink carried the jam and marmalade while his companion carried the tray up the stairs. Luckily no one was awake yet, and Ink let them into the room, motioning Hermione to set the tray on the bedside table after setting the two jars there himself. He washed his hands in the basin. When Hermione turned from doing the same, Ink surprised her by taking her left hand in his and pressing a soft kiss to it.

�Miss Granger, I know I have sent you poems before this but�would you consent to have me court you?�

If she had been blushing before, it was nothing to the colour she turned now. �Oh�I�but�� she answered. Ink looked afraid.

�Is it about master and I?�

�Yes�I mean, no, no. No it isn�t�I know you�re polyamourous and�and that�s okay with me.�

His smile almost moved her to tears.

�I�yes. Er, yes. I would like if you courted me. I�m not sure what end would be reached but I�I�m sure something will work out�o-or something.� She ended with a soft titter of nervosa, she didn�t want to scare him off, but she wanted to express her own unsureity too.

They sat down to breakfast, and Ink began to open up. At first he asked if she�d read Paddington, because of the orange marmalade. Surprised, Hermione said that the series had been the reason she�d tried orange marmalade in the first place.

�So you are a muggle�� she said quietly, carefully. She didn�t want him to clam up, after all. Upon this statement, Ink looked down.

�Yes,� he said quietly, cradling his glass of orange juice. The shock had broken, and the lock on his memories shattered a week ago, which was why his eating had suddenly stopped. Master (Ink still thought of him that way) had seen the lock break, and had offered assistance once. Ink had only asked that he come home as often as possible to just �be in the same room� and not to tell him to stop crying, and it was done. �Hermione I�m going to start talking. Don�t interrupt me or I might not be able to finish. When I�m done, I might be crying. Don�t tell me to stop. Okay?� He looked up at her again, awaiting her reply.

Hermione tugged a ringlet a little as she thought, obviously anxious. �You wo�n�t send me away will you? I might try to�to hug you, if you start crying.� She supposed it was alright to explain her terms, and get on Ink�s level about things.

�I don�t mind if you touch me,� Ink answered. �I trust you.� He took a breath, and a sip of juice, and began to tell.

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The Pet