Her Bound Heart Chapter 14.

Content Warnings: Semi-Clothed, Rituals, Collars, Teasing, Cum Play, Spanking.

Twenty-One Years Later:

“You’re an idiot.”

“You’re a butt!”

Harry and Hermione exchanged glances. Their eldest children bickering wasn’t anything new, but they knew by now they had to step in before it got serious.

“Butt!” Jasmine giggled from her booster seat as she waved her last spoonful of mashed peas around in the air. “Butt!” She squealed, pointing the spoon in Lily’s direction, her brown eyes lighting up with happiness at the sight of her older sister entering the kitchen.

“Great work Reg, you’ve taught her your childish insults too.”

“She is a child!” Their son pointed out with a pout.

“One too young to be calling people butts,” Harry said reproachfully. He walked over and picked Jasmine up in his arms, laughing as she planted a wet kiss on his cheek.

“Dada?”

“Yes, love?”

“Love you,” she mumbled, burying her face in the crook of his neck.

“Love you too, darling,” Harry murmured, his heart melting. Jasmine hasn’t been planned, born long after her two siblings. Not that it mattered. She was a piece of his heart, a mini-Hermione in both looks and intelligence. “But it’s time for bed.”

“Night night,” Jasmine mumbled, yawning softly.

He gently kissed her forehead before placing her in her pram. “Thank you, Dobby,” Harry murmured, watching the excitable house elf hum a lullaby as he pushed the pram out of the kitchen.

“Anyways, why are you calling your brother an idiot?” Hermione asked once their impressionable daughter had left the kitchen. She stretched her arms to relieve the tension in her sore muscles. Being the most in-demand magical attorney in all of Britain came with its downsides. Namely, a lot of paperwork.

She set the quill back in the inkpot and pushed the chair away from the table, getting to her feet and padding over to check on the chocolate chip cookies baking in the oven.

“He wants to get Polly Vane’s name tattooed on his arm,” Lily replied, rolling her eyes.

“I LOVE HER,” Reg insisted heatedly.

“No, you don’t. You just think that because she has big tits and let you get to second base. She’s obsessed with you because her mother was obsessed with dad. It’s some kooky fantasy the lady is playing out through her kid.”

“It’s only been one summer, Reg,” Hermione pointed out. She did not say anything about her daughter’s observation. She didn’t need to. She had spent twenty-one years as her husband’s collared submissive, and Romilda Vane could die mad about it. “Maybe let the relationship mature a bit before making a decision as momentous as getting a tattoo of her name?”

“You’re not allowed to say anything,” Reg pointed out petulantly, with a glance at his mother’s bare shoulder. It was a balmy summer evening, and Hermione had settled on a simple tank top for comfort while she worked. The initials ‘H.P.’ were clearly visible on her shoulder. It wasn’t quite a normal tattoo, the black ink shimmering and flowing on her skin. Hermione bit back a groan as Harry winked at her and caused the mark to send a tingle down her spine right to her core. “You have dad’s initials on your shoulder!”

“Mom doesn’t count.”

“Why not?” Reg asked her sister.

“Because she and dad are like soulmates or whatever.”

“Lils isn’t wrong,” Harry whispered, snaking an arm around Hermione’s waist and pulling her to her feet and into his chest. His wife squealed and slapped his chest, only to melt into his embrace the minute his lips pressed against hers.

“See?” Lily pretended to gag. “Mom doesn’t count,” she repeated. “Do not let Polly Vane tattoo her name onto your arm, idiot, because she can’t give you this. And as disgusting as it is to watch one’s parents paw at each other like rabbits in heat, this is what you want your relationship to be.”

“I’d listen to your sister, Reg. She’s your best friend,” Harry murmured, reluctantly pulling away from his wife. Even after twenty-one years and three children, every kiss still felt as exciting as their first.

“I resent any insinuations that I care about my brother’s well-being,” Lily muttered, but reached out and squeezed Reg’s shoulder. “But yeah. I just don’t want you to have a painful reminder of your fling when she inevitably dumps your ass for that preening peacock she keeps eyeing on the Quidditch Pitch.” When Hermione gave her an inquisitive look, she explained further. “I may not be in Hogwarts anymore but that doesn’t mean I don’t hear things. When I went over to Victorie’s for a project I overheard Dominique and Roxanne gossiping. Apparently Polly’s bored and she plans to dump dear Reg here for Theo Davies.”

“She won’t!”

“Lily,” Hermione said reproachfully.

“I’m just saying, Alice Longbottom is sweet, nice, and worships the ground he walks on for some reason. He could have someone so much better than Polly Vane.”

“Alice… uh… what?!” Reg spluttered.

“Blind as a bat,” Lily muttered, biting into an apple. “It’s like you gave me and Jas all the brains and completely forgot about him.”

“It’s not entirely Reg’s fault, you know?” Hermione smirked, looking at her husband. Harry blushed, knowing exactly what she was talking about. “Potter men have always been blind when it comes to women. In fact, the only reason I have this tattoo is that everyone from Aunt Tricia to your godmother knocked some sense into your father…”

---

“She’s adorable.”

“She’s mine,” Harry growled, keeping his eyes fixed on Hermione. She was standing in a corner, engrossed in an animated discussion with Daphne. Given the Azkaban breakout, their monthly kink club meeting had been somewhat different than what they usually did.

While the building he and his friends had bought and transformed was open to use for them all days of the week, it was rare for all of them to find the opportunity to be there at the same time. So, they met once a month in someone’s house to talk about their relationships, kink, and everything else under the sun, and to induct new members.

They were his closest friends and the ones he would rely on for the fight that lay ahead.

“I know you and Hannah are searching for a third, Neville, but she’s spoken for. Keep your hands off her,” Harry said, only half-jokingly.

“Doesn’t seem like it,” Susan murmured, walking up to stand on his right. “Thank you, doll,” she said, accepting the glass of wine from Luna. The spacey blonde beamed at her before walking over to Ginny and Blaise. “She’s dressed like a librarian attending a conference-”

“She picked the clothes,” Harry protested weakly. Hermione was wearing a formal white blouse, a gray skirt, and a blazer, unlike the other submissives in the room. Ginny wore a sundress. Daphne had settled on a crop top and miniskirt, using the meeting as an opportunity to dress in clothes she’d normally never get a chance to wear in her daily life. Luna meanwhile had picked a shimmering translucent dress that covered absolutely nothing, leaving her slender curves on full display.

“Did you tell her about the rules of the club? Or even its general vibes for that matter?” Susan challenged.

“No,” Harry mumbled.

“It’s been an hour since we kicked off this meeting and in that time my kitten has touched her more often than you have,” Susan said, watching George and Angelina playfully wrestle over an unopened bottle of beer.

“I’ve been preoccupied.”

“You’ve been an idiot.” Susan snorted. “You’re going to lose her, you know?”

“I know. She deserves someone-”

Neville rolled his eyes next to Harry. “You’re right Susie, he has brain rot. I’ve spotted three different frames containing photos of the two of you together in this room. She doesn’t seem to want someone else. Neither do you, for that matter. You’re in love. And you’d recognize that if you stopped being a coward. You’re letting our House down, man. Where’s that famous Gryffindor courage?”

“The only way you’ll drive her away is if you keep doing what you’re doing. You keep showing her glimpses of the life you want and can have with her, only to pull away when she gets close. She’s going to hate herself because she’ll end up believing she can’t give you what you want. And in time, she will hate you too.”

“I’m trying,” Harry gritted out.

“Try harder.” Susan grabbed Harry’s chin and made him look at Blaise and Ginny slow dancing to the romantic song softly playing on the radio. “Blaise ‘I’m a manwhore’ Zabini collared his girlfriend before you. Blaise. The man who once shamelessly brought and fucked two different dates at the same party.”

“Hermione’s wearing a collar!”

“Without a collaring ceremony, that choker is just expensive jewelry. I know you were busy with your father but I attended Ginny’s collaring. It was beautiful. Hermione deserves that, Harry.”

“She deserves more,” Harry muttered under his breath. “She’s special.”

“You’re not treating her like she’s special. You’re treating her like she’s different and it’s confusing and hurting the poor girl.”

“What’s the difference?”

“If you think she’s special, you’d treat her like a princess, not a colleague you occasionally hook up with,” Susan said with a snort. “You act like she’s less capable than the partners you had before her and it’s a testament to her love for you that she hasn’t called you out for icing her out every time she gets close to you.”

“How-”

“You made her sit on a chair beside you for the introductions at the beginning of the meeting,” Neville pointed out. “She even tried to kneel next to you after she saw what every other submissive was doing but you made her sit on the chair. Ginny was on Blaise’s lap, Daphne was kneeling next to Susie, Hannah and I were cuddling but you-”

“Yeah, I got it.”

“Then there’s the clothes. And the fact that she’s spent more time with Daphne than you in the past hour,” Neville continued

“You won’t understand,” Harry said, gritting his teeth. “She isn’t like your partners.”

“Try us,” Susan challenged.

“I’m… I’m afraid if I show her who I am… the real me… and all the things I want. She’ll hate me. I don’t want her to leave… not yet. I can’t-” Harry paused, his voice choking with suppressed emotions. Love was a minefield. It had nearly ruined his father. He didn’t think he’d survive if Hermione walked out on him.

Despite ample proof to the contrary in their weeks of living together, a part of him was still afraid Hermione would hate him for his desires.

“Harry?”

“Yes?”

Susan smacked him on the back of the head, destroying the seriousness of the moment. “You made her sign the same contract you give all your sugar babies, don’t you?”

Harry nodded, glaring at Susan. Here he was, baring his heart and his best friend was treating it like it was the most amusing thing in the world!

“I’ve read that thing,” Susan said, mostly for Neville’s benefit. “If she didn’t run at the clause that states you can use her holes anywhere, anytime, however you want, she isn’t going to break up with you because you made her kneel in a kink club, dumbass.”

Harry’s eyes widened.

“That contract is full of the kinkiest, filthiest things you can imagine,” Susan said, again for Neville’s benefit. “Hermione is smarter than all of us put together and is studying to be a lawyer. Do you really think she didn’t do her research before signing that thing? That she doesn’t understand what you want? If I had to guess, she fantasizes about doing all of that with you and is frustrated that you won’t uphold the contract you made her sign. One day, that frustration is going to boil over and she’ll leave. That’ll be why she breaks up with you, not because you want to belt her cute ass raw,” Susan said, rolling her eyes.

“I’m an idiot,” Harry croaked.

“Look, if I can get over my fear of intimacy and find happiness-” Susan smiled at Daphne, who winked and blew her a kiss. “You can too. You just need to pull your head out of your ass.”

“You won’t have to wait long for a chance to make things right,” Neville murmured, watching Hermione climb up the stairs alone.

“Go fix things,” Susan added, reaching out and giving Harry’s hand a reassuring squeeze. “She deserves a real partner, Harry. Make sure she knows she has one.”

Harry nodded and weaved his way around the room, his heart hammering in his chest as he climbed up the stairs. The door to his bedroom was ajar and he walked in, looking around before he realized Hermione was in the bathroom.

“Hey,” Harry murmured, leaning against the doorway to the bathroom. He smiled when he remembered she hadn’t once used the playroom’s (which had been her old bedroom) bathroom the entire week. She had started treating his bedroom as theirs, a realization that caused his heart to skip a beat.

Hermione was bent over the sink, splashing water on her face. “Hey.” Hermione shot him a shy smile, her cheeks red. She straightened, her nimble fingers quickly securing her wild curls into a messy bun before she splashed her face again.

“Is the club too much for you? We usually tamp it down when we have someone new in our midst but it’s been a stressful week and everyone’s looking for an excuse to blow off some steam,” Harry murmured, stepping into the bathroom with a sigh. He badly needed a release as well. Wizengamot had finally adjourned, he couldn’t do anything until everything he needed for his trip to Albania was ready, and his weekend was wide open.

Had Hermione not wriggled her way into his life and his heart, it was around this time he would have dropped in at the club, picked up a lovely unpartnered submissive, brought her home for the weekend, and fucked her into a coma.

As things stood, he couldn’t even stomach the thought of touching another girl, let alone bringing her home.

“You’ve been so stressed too,” Hermione whispered, wrapping her arms around him and burying her face into his chest. Harry sighed and melted into the hug, leaning into her for support.

“I wish I could do more,” she murmured, closing her eyes and concentrating on his heartbeat. She hated the furrows on his forehead and the circles under his eyes, especially when she knew she was a factor contributing to his stress. She had been pushing his boundaries all week, first with wanting to call him new titles, not to mention shamelessly making herself at home in his bedroom. She had woken up the morning after spending the first night in bed with him curled up in his arms with him as stiff as a board. She had debated moving out again but had changed her mind when he had come home the following day, pulled her to bed, and wordlessly held her until he fell asleep in her arms.

“You do enough,” Harry murmured, his heartbeat slowing down as he breathed in the peculiar scents of parchment and freshly cut grass. Before Hermione, he had encountered it only once, in a particular potions class back in his Sixth Year.

“I… I can leave if you want me to. Sirius keeps telling me he wants to take me for a ride on his new bike,” Hermione offered. She knew he needed to relax, and despite hating the thought of him being with another girl (even for an afternoon), she was determined to take care of him, however, she could. She slowly pulled away, giving him a half-hearted smile. “While I learn to be good enough for the club, I’m sure Luna could-”

Harry tuned out her words, frowning slightly. Damnit Susie, I hate it when you’re right.

In his misguided quest to show Hermione she was special, he had made her feel like she couldn’t give him the life he wanted. That she wasn’t good enough for him.

Harry lunged forward and captured her lips in a searing kiss.

Hermione moaned into his mouth, immediately parting her lips to allow his tongue entry. Her hands moved to unbutton his pants without hesitation. It had been a week since he had properly fucked her. Far too long, she decided. She was at her happiest with her pussy sore and his seed dripping down her thighs.

It had to be a coincidence, but she found she studied better and was much more productive after a hard fucking.

Or, she thought with a giggle, recalling Blaise’s words. Harry really does have magic jizz.

“Do you really want me to fuck Luna during club meetings?” Harry asked. He pulled her blazer free from her arms and tossed it away at the same time she pulled his pants and boxers down his legs.

“No,” Hermione said vehemently. She liked Luna, but Harry was hers.

“Who do you want me to fuck?” Harry stepped free of the garments pooling around his ankles and grabbed her shoulders, spinning her around and roughly pinning her against a wall.

“Me,” Hermione moaned, subconsciously spreading her legs for him. Her body ached for his touch, for the pleasure and pain only he could give her. “Only me.”

“I’m only exclusive with my girlfriend, Miss Granger.” Harry tucked her skirt into its own waistband, revealing her pale, firm asscheeks and the red thong she wore.

Hermione’s eyes widened. “I… I thought you said you didn’t date your sugar babies,” she murmured, her heart hammering in her chest.

“Well, you’re not really my sugar baby, are you? You refuse to spend my money,” Harry teased.

“I spend your money,” Hermione protested. “Master!” she squealed when he grabbed the waistband of her thong and easily ripped the flimsy fabric into two. He pulled the damp, tattered pieces of her underwear away from her legs and balled them up. He rubbed it over her flat belly and chest, using it as a paintbrush and coating her skin with her own arousal.

“Hermione, me taking you shopping for books and groceries does not constitute spending my money,” Harry scolded fondly. “Romilda once bought every necklace in a Muggle jewelry store because she couldn’t decide what she wanted to wear to the Ministry’s Yule Ball.”

“Not my fault Romilda Vane is an indecisive hag,” Hermione breathed, scowling at the mention of the girl.

“Fuck, you’re hot when you’re possessive,” Harry breathed. He dropped the ruined thong, his hands moving to her blouse. He didn’t have the patience to unbutton it so he simply ripped it open, the buttons clattering as they hit the floor. “She contacted me a few days ago. Said it was a mistake to leave me for Nott and that I should take her back as my sugar baby again.”

Hermione wracked her brain to remember what the prison term for cold-blooded murder was.

“What should I tell her?” Harry asked, grabbing her wrists. He raised her arms over her head and pinned them against the tiled wall.

“You tell her that you won’t be needing her ever again,” Hermione growled, arching her back further, pressing her bum against his throbbing manhood. “You have a girlfriend to take care of all your needs.”

“All of them?” Harry whispered, grabbing her hips. He lined his cock with her dripping slit and impaled her with one firm thrust.

“ALL!” Hermione screamed, her walls burning as they stretched to accommodate his massive girth. Her tight core was no match for his strength, the meager resistance offered by her fluttering walls futile. It was just another reminder of his hold over her, and the thought of it caused a wave of arousal to gush out of her and coat his cock.

Harry groaned as he bottomed out inside her, gritting his teeth to stay in control. “You’re so sexy,” Harry growled, breathing heavily. His eyes roved over her bare back, his gaze slowly moving lower until he reached her perfect ass. Two round, firm, pale cheeks that begged to be grabbed and spanked.

He couldn’t resist.

SMACK!

Hermione groaned loudly as the palm made contact with her ass, a pink handprint immediately blooming on her alabaster skin.

Sexy.

She was sexy.

Harry liked her intelligence, desired her body, and wanted the whole package.

In that moment, she felt invincible.

“Sir?” Hermione asked, moaning wantonly as he began to lazily piston in and out of her aching core. She forgot that the doors were open and that they had guests downstairs who could easily hear them.

“Yes, princess?” He grabbed her hair, pulling her flush against his chest. His arm snaked around her slender body, fingers digging into the soft flesh of her breasts as he began to massage the creamy mounds. His cock rammed deep into her tight pussy every few seconds, drawing out needy whines from her lips.

He was so, so deep, the force of his thrusts causing her petite body to bounce on his cock.

“Will… no… contract… or… rules?” she gasped, her chest heaving under his hands as she struggled to breathe. “SIR!” she screamed. Harry had pinched her nipples and twisted them without warning, sending jolts of pain racing up her spine.

He did it again, and again, and again, and by the fifth time, she was a sobbing, mewling mess, half out of her mind with lust.

“Do you want there to be one?” Harry asked, breathing heavily. His balls tightened, the man holding on through a combination of sheer willpower and strategic thrusting. He wanted to cum with her, not a second before.

“YES!” Hermione shrieked, her eyes rolling into the back of her head. Her legs trembled violently as Harry moved his fingers from her stinging, flushed nipples down to her clit and pinched it for a brief second. “Wanna… explore more,” she mumbled, feeling the coil in the pit of her stomach tighten as Harry began to massage the sensitive nub in time with his thrusts.

“Okay…” Harry groaned, burying his face in the crook of her neck. His thrusting grew erratic as he gave in to his base desires. After a frustrating week, he desperately craved release. Still, he stubbornly held on, refusing to give in.

“Breed me,” Hermione croaked, gently coaxing him to let go. “Cum in me, please, sir? It’s been a week and I feel so empty,” she whispered.

“You-”

“Need your seed,” Hermione begged, rocking her hips. “Give it to me!”

Her plea destroyed what little self-resolve Harry had left. His roar and her scream intermingled as they tumbled over the edge together, her fluttering walls clamping down around his shaft and trapping it in place.

He was balls deep in her and he made no effort to pull out as he came. Ropes of thick, white seed painted her walls and dripped out from her gaping pussy when he finally pulled out, splattering against the marble floor.

Hermione immediately clamped her legs shut, not wishing to waste a single drop of his precious gift. She leaned against his broad chest for support, panting for breath as she rode out her orgasm.

“I’ve never actually asked a girl to be my girlfriend before, but that had to be the single worst proposal in history,” Harry joked, wrapping his arms around his tiny submissive protectively.

“It was perfect,” Hermione whispered, her voice hoarse. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Harry simply kissed her head and held her, neither of them wanting to pull away and ruin the moment.

“Harry?” Hermione finally spoke, looking up at him with big brown eyes.

“Yes, princess?”

“Do you really think I’m sexy?” she asked, her voice quiet and insecure. She couldn’t remember a single time Ron had called her cute, let alone sexy, and she had seen his eyes wander to Lavender even when they were together. If she couldn’t hold her own against Lavender, in what universe could she compete against someone like Tommasina Delacour?

“Yes,” Harry said simply, answering her question like he was stating an obvious fact.

“Even when I’m being an insufferable know-it-all?”

Hermione blushed at the sound of Harry’s chuckle.

“Darling, I was rock hard the entire time in the courtroom, watching you being brilliant. Merlin, if I could have gotten away with it, I’d have fucked you right there. It was a minor miracle I managed to control myself until we were alone.”

“It doesn’t intimidate you?” Hermione asked, blinking in confusion. Mrs. Weasley had once told her to stop intimidating men if she wanted a good husband and a family of her own in the future. That no man would want her if she didn’t learn when to be quiet.

“That my girlfriend is smart as hell? Fuck no. It delights me,” Harry murmured, pushing her ruined blouse down her arms so he could kiss along her shoulder.

“You’re weird,” Hermione mumbled with a shy giggle.

“Careful,” Harry growled, playfully smacking her ass. “But yes,” he said, pulling away with a lopsided grin that caused her heart to skip a beat. “I’ve been told that many times by several people. Come on. Let’s go back downstairs before people start to wonder where we are.”

“Like this?” Hermione glanced at herself. She was half naked, her makeup was a mess and she reeked of sex.

“If you’re comfortable with it?”

Hermione shrugged off her tattered blouse and tugged her skirt free, pushing it down till it covered her bum. She reached out to take his hand and nodded with a shy smile.

The living room erupted into wolf whistles and cheers the minute they appeared at the top of the stairs. Hermione blushed hard but silently followed Harry, resisting the urge to cross her arms over her chest to cover up her nakedness.

If she was to truly be part of their club, she’d have to follow all their rules. A prospect that excited and terrified her in equal measure.

He led her down to the living room, the gathered crowd parting to make room for them as they made their way to the coffee table. Harry carefully helped her climb on it, his hand on her shoulder gently applying pressure until she was kneeling on the polished wood.

Everyone in attendance had turned their attention towards them, and Hermione shivered despite the roaring fire flooding the room with warmth. She was laid bare, vulnerable, on trial, and about to be judged by his closest friends.

Getting their approval was essential to her goal of proving she could be his submissive and a part of the club, and she was determined to pass the test.

This was what she had been missing her entire life. She had always been the responsible one, the one in control, the one who took care of herself and her friends. It took living with Harry to realize all she wanted in life was someone to take the burden off her shoulders, to hold her together when she felt like falling apart.

She knelt on the table, her back straight and her head lowered. Her hands were on her thighs, palms turned towards the air. The smell of sex clung to her, and as the skirt rode up her thighs when she spread her legs, she knew the people standing in front of her could see the trickle of white leaking out of her pussy and snaking down her thigh.

The only way Harry could have made what he wanted to say clearer was if he had made her wear a flashing neon sign that said ‘Belongs to Harry James Potter’.

“Before we proceed to dinner and planning, there is something I’ve been wanting to do for a while,” Harry murmured, wrapping his hand around her neck and pulling her back against his leg. She sighed as she leaned against him, resisting the urge to look up at her lover. “If no one has any objections, I’d like to induct Hermione into our club as my collared submissive.”

“I do.” Hermione tensed at the sound of Susan’s voice. “She isn’t your collared submissive yet.”

“She’s wearing one.” Hermione knew Blaise had pointed to the exquisitely crafted scarlet leather choker that rarely if ever left her neck. She took it off before bed and wore it first thing after her shower, and loathed taking it off during the day unless Harry asked her to do it for some reason.

“She may be collared, but she hasn’t earned the title. I have it on good authority there was no ceremony,” Susan shot back. “Either she joins the club as a free submissive, or we do the ceremony now before we induct her.”

“I-” Harry paused, and Hermione could hear the fear in his voice.

“It’s okay, I can wait-” Hermione started. The last thing she wanted to do was force Harry to do something he wasn’t comfortable with. She had already pushed him out of his comfort zone earlier that week. If he needed more time to admit to others what he had to her, she had no problem giving it to him.

“Apologies,” Harry said calmly after taking a deep breath. He had pressed his free hand over her lips, cutting her off. Hermione moaned quietly as he pushed his thumb into her mouth, the calloused digit gently pinning her tongue against the floor of her mouth, gagging her and preventing her from speaking. “My princess hates rules,” Harry teased.

Hermione turned red at the sound of Ginny and Daphne’s laughter.

“Are you sure?” Ginny muttered. “I’m pretty sure she’s a slut for them.” She yelped quietly when Blaise smacked her ass for speaking without permission.

Hermione squirmed and turned red. “Am not,” she mumbled, only loud enough for Harry to hear. It was a bald-faced lie, and both she and Harry knew it.

“Who will bear witness?” Harry asked with a chuckle, removing his hand from around her neck. He gently unbuckled her collar and set it down on the table. She shivered, not liking how naked she suddenly felt without its protective pressure around her neck.

Ginny looked at Blaise, who nodded with a small smile.

“I will.” Hermione’s heart soared at the sound of Ginny’s voice.

Her eyes flickered up to the couple in front of her, and she watched with a smile as her best friend leaned up and kissed Blaise’s cheek.

“Correct me if I get something wrong. I wasn’t exactly paying attention to what was being said during my collaring,” Ginny whispered. She grinned when Blaise squeezed her shoulder reassuringly and moved to kneel in front of Hermione.

“What is your name?” Ginny asked, adopting a formal tone.

“Hermione Jean Granger,” Hermione replied, relaxing slightly as she locked eyes with Ginny. Her best friend’s warm brown eyes were loving and filled with happiness, and she was secretly glad Ginny was there to be a part of such an important milestone in her life.

“Hermione, whose collar do you wish to bear upon your neck with pride and without shame?”

“Harry’s,” Hermione replied, her heart speeding up in her chest.

“Do you swear that you take this decision without fear or coercion, and with full knowledge of the life that awaits you?”

“I swear.”

“Do you promise to love, adore, and obey your dominant to the best of your ability?”

She knew a simple ‘yes’ would suffice, but it felt wholly inadequate to explain how she truly felt about him.

“I give my body, heart, and soul over to Harry Potter,” Hermione murmured, loud enough for everyone in the room to hear. “He is my partner, my dominant, the man who has given me nothing but happiness.” She tilted her neck upwards, both to look at him so he could see the sincerity in her eyes and know she meant what she had said and to expose her neck for him. “I am at my happiest at his side, under his authority, and following his rules,” she whispered, her warm brown eyes shining with adoration as she looked up at Harry.

“Do you accept her submission and the responsibility that comes with it?” Ginny asked, turning her attention to Harry.

“I do.” Harry carefully wrapped the collar around her bare neck and secured its buckle. “I give her my attention, my care, my-” Harry paused, glancing at Susan, who gave him a small, reassuring nod. Harry took a deep breath before continuing. “Love,” he whispered, his voice choking with emotion. “She is mine.”

“What is your gift to her?”

Hermione’s heart sped up. A gift? He had already given her everything she could dream of.

“I have something in mind,” Harry murmured, pulling out his wand. “You see, I promised her I’d do something if she won her case against Daphne in mock court.”

“She didn’t. It was a draw,” Daphne hollered.

“Hey, technically I wasn’t convicted of murder. That counts as a win,” Blaise reasoned.

“Exactly. Anyways, I’d like to fulfill my promise as my gift to Hermione.”

Hermione’s eyes widened.

“If… that’s okay with you, princess?” Harry asked, holding his wand inches away from her shoulder. He had promised to help her get a tattoo, but his research had led him to something much more meaningful. An unintentional consequence of his obsession with finding out why he had survived the night Voldemort had attacked their home was his immense knowledge of ancient and arcane magic. And ever since he had seen the photo of the Dark Mark floating in the sky over Azkaban, he had begun digging deeper into magical marks and the rituals surrounding them.

Hermione glanced at the smudged ink on her wrist. He had long since washed away the rest of the marks on her body, but she had tried to keep the initials safe for as long as possible. Unfortunately, they were no longer legible. Not that it mattered. Not anymore.

“Yes,” she mumbled around his thumb, squirming with happiness. “Yes!”

Harry nodded and pressed the tip of his wand against her bare shoulder, and she braced herself for pain that would never come.

Instead, he lit her nerves on her fire.

“Sir!” Hermione moaned, jolts of pure pleasure shooting down her spine and radiating through her core. The feeling was one of pure bliss, an orgasm with its intensity dialed to eleven. Her body, pinned in place by his hand on her shoulder, trembled violently as the pressure built up in the pit of her stomach.

“Who do you belong to?” Harry asked, creating a magical tattoo of the initials ‘H.P.’ on her shoulder, just as he had promised.

“You!” Hermione moaned, her eyes fluttering shut as she lost control over her body. Her gray skirt was completely drenched by the arousal leaking out of her gushing pussy. She was a sight to behold, a quivering ball of pleasure and lust.

“Say my name.”

“Harry!” Hermione shrieked, erupting without warning the minute he pulled his wand away. There would be no salvaging their coffee table. The wood was completely soaked with her cum. She slumped back into his waiting arms, her lips parted as she panted for breath. He finally pulled his fingers free from her mouth, wiping them against her quivering breasts.

“Princess?”

“Hmm?” Hermione mumbled, floating happily in post-orgasmic bliss.

“Does it hurt?”

Hermione shook her head. Aside from minor stinging, the only thing she felt was overwhelming pleasure. “Did you want it to hurt?” she asked, letting him sweep her up into his arms. Through half-lidded eyes she watched Ginny return to Blaise’s side. Everyone dispersed, choosing one of the many chairs arranged in a circle around the living room to sit in. Like before, Ginny perched herself on Blaise’s lap while Daphne proudly kneeled next to Susan. Luna occupied a seat next to the fireplace, humming happily. Neville and Hannah shared a chair, cuddling each other while George and Angelina playfully bickered before they flopped down on the sofa behind the coffee table together.

“No. But I was worried it would. The Dark Mark hurts like hell, or so I’ve been told. I was doing research into magical marks and apparently, the intent of the creator is what decides how much it’ll hurt.”

“Well, my thighs are cramping,” Hermione whispered, nuzzling into his chest once he had settled down on one of the few unoccupied chairs in the room. Her legs were sore and trembling, weak from the force of the orgasm that had ripped through her body. “What was your intent behind creating this mark?”

“Love and protection,” Harry replied without hesitation. There was more to it, things he had imbibed into the mark. But that was a conversation they could have when they were alone. “It’s tied to me, so you’ll have a part of me with you no matter where I am. It can also be easily undone with a spell,” Harry added quickly, wanting her to know he hadn’t saddled her with something that could never be removed.

“Harry?”

“Yes, princess?”

“I’m taking this mark with me to the grave,” Hermione whispered. With that, she buried her face into his chest and closed her eyes, content to zone out of the discussions taking place around her and enjoy her newfound high and the sexy scenarios her overactive imagination cooked up for her.

It was Blaise’s voice that finally pulled her out of her daydream.

“So, we all have things to do but you’re forgetting something,” Blaise pointed out, lazily kneading Ginny’s breast. The pink-cheeked redhead mewled softly, locking her eyes with her best friend before blushing and looking away. “Your plans mean you’ll have to go to Albania alone. None of us can accompany you. Investigating that forest without backup is foolish.”

“I won’t be alone.” Harry glanced down at Hermione, who was curled up on his lap with her head resting on his chest. She looked much more comfortable in her new position than she had on the chair next to him. He reached out and gently caressed her cheek with his finger, smiling when her warm brown eyes flickered up to study his face. Despite her curious expression, she stayed silent, following the rules of their club just as well as any other submissive in the room.

“I’ll have my partner to watch my back,” Harry murmured, leaning to gently capture her lips.

Notes:

I do think this was a long time coming. If these two kept denying it anymore I'm pretty sure all their friends would just organize a shotgun wedding and drag them to it lol. Thank you to the Patrons who gave me the ideas for Magical Marks and Rituals! If you'd like to have an input in the planning of your favorite stories or just give me ideas you'd like to see implemented, the discord server is the easiest place to get in touch with me! Use the Invite Link in the Pinned Post to join the server!