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Hermione Granger and the Bastet Collar	By : HunterOpera Category: Harry Potter > General > General Views: 53233 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 3
Disclaimer: This is something, yes indeed. Discretion is advised. The characters, locations, plots, and tropes of Harry Potter and JK Rowling are not owned by me and have nothing to do with the mess I'm making in their sandbox. I make no money

Chapter List
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Told you this would get finished. This is the second to last chapter; the last was written, and will be posted soonish (I need to edit). In the meantime, all reviews will be responded to here (just copy/pasta the link) : http://www2.adult-fanfiction.org/forum/index.php/topic/36931-metroid-the-bergman-affair-feedback-comments-and-workshopping/page-5 Yes, it takes you to a thread about a Metroid story I wrote. I'm consolidating my feedback. Enough rambling... on with the show. Thanks for reading, and hope you enjoy.
The cat purred at her feet, brushing her head against Delores' thighs. The Headmistress looked down at the simpering kitten, the deep brown eyes and wavy brown fur on her head, and smiled. There was so little sign of the mudblood who had once thought so much of herself, not even deep down in the kitten's eyes.
When Delores reached down and ran her knuckles against the kitten's head, she was meant with a pleasing pressure, the kitten enjoying the affection. Scratching behind the ear, running kneading finger's down the kitten's supine spine, pulling on the kitten's tail.
Not even this last raised the silent cry of despair or defiance that Delores had gotten used to seeing at first. This lack made the Headmistress smile – she had finally broken one of the most obstinate mudbloods to ever step into Hogwarts.
How simple and great a thing it would be to break the rest!
The mudblood that walked in here was no longer the willful, bright, or curious characature that she had been. Though she had never revealed the wizard or witch that had used her as a mouthpiece, Delores liked to think she had a few ideas and it gave her something to ask the girl when she first entered the Headmistress' chambers.
“Is it Draco? Pansy? Who is hiding their genius by using you?” Delores would ask, swatting Hermione's bum when the mudblood kept silent or answered in the negative. “Or perhaps Victor Krum left something in you besides his seed...?”
“Victor and I never... we never...”
“You mustn't tell lies, child,” Delores said, cutting the girl off with a quick swat. She took no enjoyment from the way the girl's exposed flesh, but she had to admit to herself that the shade was much more proper a compliment to the rest of her office. “And you do not have to keep such secrets from your betters. We already know that you are a slut.”
“I'm n-not...,” the girl sniffled. Was it any wonder she preferred dealing with the mudblood when she was in the proper frame of mind. Even now, broken down, she could be so argumentative.
“Are you disagreeing with one of your betters?” Delores asked, touching the girl's rear. It was so smooth and warm, and the girl trembled at the contact, not at all like the cat she would soon be. “Ten points from Gryffindor, mudblood, for arguing with a teacher. We all know better than you.”
The spanking that followed soon reduced the naked girl to tears.
It had become routine. Potter would write his lines and be dismissed and, fifteen minutes later, Delores would send for the mudblood. She would come and stand outside the door until invited in, would stand and wait until acknowledged. Base manners had been quick to instill in this difficult child; if only Potter would be so quick to learn.
Delores had come to enjoy studying the girl, making her wait, watching her shuffle and try to control her breathing, watching her fingers twitch. She would make the girl ask to take off each piece of her clothing, starting with her sweater. It was to be folded neatly and set on a chair. Shoes and socks would follow, put side by side underneath that same chair.
The blouse would follow, the skirt. Both folded neatly, Hermione Granger thanking her for allowing her to strip out of the uniform she did not deserve. Delores liked to make the girl stop there, liked her to stand there in her bra and panties. The confidence she had once possessed seemed to evaporate in these moments.
Minutes would pass, the mudblood trying to control her breathing.
It was adorable.
“Is there something you would like to ask, child?” Delores would ask.
“Yes, Headmistress,” the mudblood would answer. “If it p-please you, Headmistress, I c-could remove my b-bra and p-panties...”
“Slut. If you feel the need to expose your filthy mudblood nudity, than I suppose we must indulge you. Do you have reasons for wanting to lose modesty better suited to your betters...?”
“C-clothes are meant for w-w-witches and wizards,” the miserable girl would whisper, then sob when ordered to speak more clearly. “C-clothes aren't meant for m-mudbloods.”
“And why is that, child? Does what passes for your mind remember?”
“B-because m-mudbloods are j-just animals.”
The girl typically started sobbing at that point. Delores was kind enough to let her. Difficult truths were often the hardest for those they afflicted to accept, but they had to be accepted. She would let the mudblood sob and cry, and then ask her to beg once more before stripping down and preparing for her punishment.
She had once managed a hundred spankings on the girl's rump. The girl had begged and pleaded after that, wanting nothing more than to do whatever Delores asked.
“It just so happens, mudblood, that I have a gift for you.” Delores had smiled, walking around her desk and opening a drawer. The girl had looked up with such hope as Delores had handed her the small tag, but when she'd studied it her expression turned questioning. “I know that, being a mudblood, your capacity to recognize such a simple thing may be impaired. It is a name tag. Can you read the name on it?”
“Muffy?”
“Very good,” Delores said. “That will be your name when you are a kitten, and it is the only name you will answer to when you are in this office. Do you understand, Hermione?”
When the girl said she did Delores spanked her twenty times, turning pink flesh an angry red. Hermione had whimpered, no longer able to scream, her coltish legs twitching where once they had kicked out.
“Do you understand, Hermione?” Delores asked, again. The girl lay flat on her desk, naked and sobbing. “Do you understand, Muffy?”
The girl gave a soft little meow.
Delores had smiled, stroking her hair, praising her understanding. She'd commanded the girl to stand and lift up her hair, raising her arms so that her small breasts were pushed out like the slut she was. Delores had her beg for her ears, her paws, her tail. She used the wetness leaking out of the girl's front hole to coat the dildo that would hold the tail in her back one.
And then she had the girl beg to have the Bastet Collar put on her.
And now only Muffy remained.
///
When she realized she was having trouble answering to her own name in the mess hall, she excused herself and went to the library, managing to make it all the way there and finding a secret little corner before curling into a ball and crying.
Ginny found her a little while later. She didn't say anything, just took Hermione into her arms and held her, stroking her hair, letting her sob. When her weeping had subsided into quiet sobs, the other girl whispered soothingly to her.
“Your name is Hermione. You are the most gifted witch I've ever heard of. Harry, myself, and especially my idiot brother are all lucky to have you as a friend.”
Hermione eventually fell silent, but she still held the other girl.
“I don't know how much longer I can take this,” admitted Hermione, her voice hushed.
“You won't have to much longer,” Ginny promised. “Did you get enough to eat?” Hermione shook her head and Ginny produced a saucer of milk from somewhere. It seemed like the most natural thing in the world to bend over it and start drinking.
Hermione was most of the way through the bowl before she realized why that was wrong.
“I'm going to kill that woman,” Ginny growled, then smirked. “Or, you know, fate worse than death.”
The next week was a blur. She was spared some of Umbridge's direct attentions when Harry's Defense Against the Dark Arts class was discovered, but in the end it just meant she was writing lines with the others before having to suffer her nightly humiliations.
For days things got worse – Umbridge began spanking her front as well as her bum, making her clasp her hands behind her neck and hold her legs open so Umbridge could swat her most intimate areas. Hermione managed to escape more of that treatment by claiming that she was just a mudblood, that she had only been doing what her betters told her to.
“Well, I suppose that must be true, mustn't it?” Umbridge had said, spanking her rear. Hermione had never though she'd be grateful for that administration. “Very well. Beg me to put on your collar, Hermione.”
She said nothing. She had not fallen for that trap more than once.
Umbridge had somehow discovered that she was missing meals, and told her that she would no longer eat in the mess hall; she promised that she would feed her dear Muffy. Hermione had cringed and accepted this with a quiet meow, and sure enough a saucer was set out for her.
Inside was a white liquid, mostly milk, but there was some other flavor to it. She hoped it was cream but never asked. The worst part was that Delores would have her lick up half the bowl before putting the collar on her neck.
“It will help you come to terms with things, child,” Umbridge claimed.
Hermione had never hated anyone more.
When Hermione and Harry were brought to Umbridge's office she was almost relieved when she found out they were being accused of hiding a monster in the Forbidden Forest. The two of them would be forced to accompany Umbridge there, by Umbridge's decree.
Harry wanted to know how Delores had discovered anything relating to Hagrid's secret. Hermione didn't tell him that she'd told Ginny, that Ginny had told Luna, that Luna had told Cho, that Delores had probably tortured it out of Cho using similar methods to what Hermione herself had suffered.
Ginny had told Hermione that she wouldn't be the only witch that Delores was doing this sort of thing to.
“I know the type,” Ginny had growled. “I remember from you-know-who's time inside my head.”
Hermione didn't ask further; the hatred in Ginny's eyes was far too similar to the hatred she had seen in Harry's whenever Voldemort had tried to force his way in through Harry's mind.
So, they went. Harry, Hermione, Umbridge. Not exactly the Golden trio, she thought. She did her best to act normal, Harry asking her what they should do. She couldn't tell Harry that everything was under control, couldn't risk him finding out about what had been done to her.
Harry was her best friend, but he was still a boy.
There were certain things that he would never be able to understand.
They took Umbridge to Hagrid's half-brother, and she acted in the exact manner Ginny had predicted. And then the centaurs showed up, exactly like Ginny had promised. And as they were taking her away Umbridge screamed at them to tell the centaurs that she meant no harm.
“I'm sorry, Miss Umbridge,” Harry said, glaring. “I must not tell lies.”
And while he was doing that, she handed one of the centaurs the Bastet Collar. Ginny had told her where it was kept and how to get it. Hermione's wits were too addled to ask how. The centaur had looked at her with pity before galloping off, helping the herd carry the Headmistress away.
“What was that?” Harry asked.
“Nothing important,” Hermoine answered, looking down and biting her lip. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath before lifting her head and looking at her dearest friend. “Come on, we have to get going.”
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Hermione Granger and the Bastet Collar