Fate's Rewrite

I was expecting that, after handling Fleur, the rest of my day was going to pass in a predictable monotony. But a sudden pop, signaling the sudden appearance of a house elf, threatened to derail the boring routine that I planned to have. "Young master," said Kreacher, who just appeared in my study.

"Kreacher," I greeted cheerfully. "Always good to see you."

"Thanks, young master," he said with a voice that he tried to keep gruff, but I could sense his emotions underneath. Such an interesting creature, stronger than most wizards, but still vulnerable to the slightest compliment. "The mudblood bookworm left the house after saying she was going to sleep early," he explained.

"Excellent," I said. Kreacher bowed, then disappeared, leaving me alone with my thoughts. There was only one reason for Hermione to leave the house after tricking the others. She intended to follow my directions for a meeting. Well, who I was to disappoint her, I decided as I apparated to the Center snatchers used as their headquarter, the place that witnessed our last encounter. A walk across the building, and the guards were under my magical control once more.

With everything in place, I sat on my chair, my mind on how to progress with Hermione. I only waited for twenty minutes before a knock distracted me from my thoughts. The door opened a second later, revealing one of the guards under my Imperius, but more importantly, Hermione was behind him, her eyes on the ground, trembling slightly. The reason was simple. She was wearing a short skirt, with the rest of her legs covered with black fishnets. Her top was similarly revealing, a tight white tank top, transparent enough to show the black bra she was wearing underneath. She was dressed that slutty, because I told her to do so in the inscriptions I wrote on her body, explaining that it was the only way to keep the reason for her visit obstructed.

"Sir, you have a mudblood bitch that claims that she has something important to talk with you," he said, leering excessively. Almost too much, I noted, though thankfully Hermione was too distracted to actually took note of that detail, her eyes shifting panickedly.

"Yes, my informant," I said back to the guard, deliberately stretching the last word to pack a sensual suggestiveness into it. "You can go now," I said, while subtly gesturing him to ignore that sentence. It was one of the several gestures I had added to their conditioning, to help me better sell the ruse to my beautiful victim.

"Are you sure, boss. Maybe I can help you interrogate her?"

"I said, you can go now," I repeated, this time gesturing him to follow my command. This time, he walked away, leaving me alone with Hermione. "Close the door, please," I asked her.

"What the hell is going on, Malfoy," she said with a loud voice, trying to sound angry, but she wasn't a good actor, so it fell flat, failing to cover her anxiety. "Why can't we meet in a different place?"

"Simple, here, no one would look up your visit in detail, and even if someone noticed accidentally, with the way you're dressed, I can easily convince them about the ulterior motive of your visit. Same doesn't apply if we're caught anywhere else. Someone will check you to validate the story, and everything would fall apart. Even sneaking away is not a good choice. Dark Mark is an excellent medium for tracking, and I can't risk being in a different place than I'm supposed to be. They are already suspecting that there is someone leaking information, and I need to minimize the risk."

"And do I have to act like a streetwalker," she asked with a tightening voice, clearly remembering how our last encounter had ended.

"You don't have to," I answered with a dismissive shrug. "But it increases your chances of staying under notice. These men aren't the sharpest knives in the drawer. As long as your presence has a simple reason they could understand, they won't question it further."

She took a deep breath as she grabbed the hem of her skirt, trying to pull it down in a vain attempt to increase the area they covered. "I understand, but still…"

"I'm risking my mother's life along with my own, Granger," I reminded her with a sharp tone. "And I'm not the only one that is risking my life. Is dressing like a whore a big sacrifice compared to alternatives?" She murmured a response too quiet for me to hear. "Anyway, let's not waste too much time in things like that. We have a lot to talk about. But first, come closer, we need to look convincing in case someone walks in."

"Can't you just order them to stay away," she asked desperately.

"Not if I want to keep the suspicion to a minimum. They are simple men, and I would like to use the simplest way to distract them. Anything else brings an unacceptable level of risk."

And with that, her blush climbed even further, no doubt remembering what had followed the last time I had used that excuse. But it was a testament of success for my dream conditioning and other methods that she followed my command without a protest, and stood next to me. "Now, sit down," I said, tapping a spot directly in front of me on the table.

"Is it-" she tried to say, but I cut her off by grabbing her arm and pulling her closer roughly. "Hey!" she exclaimed, that didn't prevent her from sitting the exact same spot I had ordered her to sit.

"Quicker you follow my directions, easier we could move onto more important topics, such as finding the best way to get rid of our Dark Lord infestation," I said, but my attention was more on the beautiful view that appeared in front of me as Hermione raised herself to sit on my desk. Her short skirt failed to cover her fully under the challenge of her pose, revealing her panties, a lacy black piece matching with her bra, and if my eyes weren't lying, also slightly damp on the core. It was good to have confirmation that, despite her apparent reluctance, she was quite excited for what was about to follow. I had trained her well.

She noticed where my gaze was focused, and pressed her legs together for concealment. "Let's talk about the resistance," she said, trying to spit out angrily, but the tremble in her voice ruined the effect. She was feeling frustrated, so she reached for the water pitcher and filled a glass for herself. A big mistake, I thought with a smirk as I watched her gulp down the water. I had laced the water with a potion that would increase her arousal and sensitivity, the ones that worked perfectly when I was training Fleur.

"Sure," I said even as I put my hand on her leg. She looked at me, but before she could say anything, I followed up with my excuse. "Just to make sure nothing looks suspicious if someone walks in," I explained. She nodded. "Now, what do you want to know?"

"What's the general status," Hermione asked. "We're trying to stay away from the rest of the Order, so it has been a while since we got any news."

"It's rather dark," I started explaining even as my hand climbed her leg, reaching upwards. "After the ministry takeover, the resistance fractured badly, with only a few pockets remaining, and they are flailing uselessly. There are a few counter-attacks, and several rescues, but no damage to anything vital."

"Have you done anything to help them?" she asked.

"Other than letting go a few people that I suspected being Order members? Unfortunately, no," I said, and the movement of my hand stopped for a moment.

"Why not? Aren't you supposed to be on our side?" she asked in an accusatory manner, but it was not a genuine question, but an angry one aimed to distract herself from the sensation of my touch.

"How exactly I was going to help them openly?" I asked, doing my best Snape impression for a moment. She was taken back by my response, and I used the opportunity to slide higher on her leg, my hand disappearing under her skirt. "Not only I don't know their identity to get any help, but also I don't think any of them would tell me, a Malfoy, what they need. For example, you would never trust me if I hadn't saved you from prison, and didn't do anything despite I have access to your hiding spot."

"I guess so," she murmured, missing the significance of my finger, drawing ever closer to her panties. "Sorry, I'm just frustrated that I can't do more," she murmured.

"Don't worry, I understand. We're just two young people, trying to clean up the mess our elders had created in their incompetence," I said in false compassion, using my free hand to pat her leg in comradeship, the other driving ever closer to her most sensitive spot, slowly massaging on the way, driving up the pleasure she was feeling. "We're doing our best, but it's hard. We lack knowledge, and we don't know who to trust."

Before she could answer, a knock reached to my ears, the first scheduled visit from the programmed guards. "Try to sound convincing," I ordered her in a hurry even as I forced her legs wide, giving me a view of her slit, restricted only by her moist panties.

"What-" she tried to say, but it was cut short when I leaned forward. On the way, I tugged her panties harshly, and ripped them off her body. Then, I pressed my lips on her naked slit, my tongue joining the fray in an instant. Her sweet taste blossomed on my tongue as it started to beat her knob with a hurried insistence. A moan escaped her lips instantly, surprised by the sudden rush of pleasure, enhanced under the combination of her own anticipation and the effects of the potion she unknowingly imbibed.

I continued licking her even as the door opened, and I ignored the first call the guard made for me. I only raised my head after an insistent cough from him. "What!" I said as I pulled my head away from between her, trying to sound cross.

"There are a few documents that you need to sign, sir," the guard said.

"Sure, drop them on the desk, and I'll do them as soon as I'm done with my current 'work'. It shouldn't take more than an hour," I explained, wiggling my eyebrows suggestively, trying to put a convincing show for Hermione.

"I'm afraid that's not possible, sir. The request is from Rockwood, and he asks them as soon as possible. You know how he is," the guard said, following his next programmed response.

"I see," I murmured with a sigh. I reached for my belt. After a moment of fumbling, my shaft was free from the oppression of my pants, breathing freely. Hermione was doubly shocked, first by the sudden entrance of the guard and my method of deflecting his attention, and now, my new measure. "Come on, sweetie, you have a lot of work to do," I said even as I wrapped my fingers around her wrist. I pulled her closer, harsh, and when she was in front of me, I grabbed her shoulder and forced her to her knees, not trying particularly hard to look nice. And beset by the shock of the situation, she failed to react until she was on her knees, inches away from my erection.

"Pass me the paperwork," I said even as I used my right hand to reach for a quill, while my left hand slid into Hermione's bushy hair, forcing her to lean closer. "Play along," I whispered, trying to pack as much as urgency to my voice as I can manage. But she was too shocked to move, so I pressed my hand over her head, pulling her closer. I could have repeated my words, hoping for her to hear, but with my hand already in such a favorable position, I preferred to a more direct approach. I pulled her head down, forcing her to swallow the tip of my shaft.

"Here they are, sir," said the mind controlled guard as he placed the files on the table. With his task complete, he turned to leave, but I stopped him with a silent gesture, ordering him to delay his departure. "I better wait until they are finished, sir, to make sure they are completed despite your distraction."

"Whatever," I murmured dismissively as I reached for the pen, and started scribbling nonsense words over the papers the guard provided, my attention fully on the sexy bookworm between my legs. Hermione flinched with the words, and tried to pull back, surprised by our surprised voyeur, but my iron grip didn't allow her to pull back. She was stiff around my shaft, but it wasn't something that would stop me. I pressed at the back of her head even harder, forcing her to swallow more of my shaft. She still didn't react more, so I dropped my pen for a moment, and slapped her breast, my left hand still over her head to prevent her from pulling back.

It proved to be a good decision, because shocked by the sudden slip in the physical dimension, she started to struggle. But I didn't let her to, even when she was tapping my leg panickedly. I gestured the guard, mouthing him the sentence I wanted him to say. "She is a feisty one, sir," he said with a leer. "Maybe I should help you a bit."

"Thanks for the offer, but no need," I said to him, amused by the way she lost her desire to fight in an instant. "She is smart enough to know which boundaries not to push when her family's safety is on the line." I smirked in satisfaction to an effective strategy, then pressed her head once more, reminding her that she needed to move if she was going to be successful in her role as the desperate daughter of a family under threat.

Soon, she started moving in her own volition, her lips dancing over my length. It wasn't as enjoyable as it could be, as her movements were still mechanical with little passion behind them, her stress overwhelming the enjoyment she felt despite the assistance of the potion. But since she was once again moving by her own will, I was free to use my left hand for more useful things than forcing her to move.

My fingers slid down to her neck, dancing on her sensitive skin. I could feel her out-of-control pulse on my fingertips, pumping crazily despite the challenge they were feeling to bring things under control. It was good, harder her heart pumped, more effective the potion was going to be.

I let my fingers to slide even lower, until they met with the edge of her tank top. It was tight, but its fabric wasn't exactly strongest, so it barely resisted my finger from sliding inside her top. My fingers found the edge of her breasts, the thumping of her heart tickling my fingertips. She stopped once more, but this time, it was barely a stagger. With everything else that was going on, caressing the edge of her breasts was simply not that important.

But it wasn't true for my next action. Not willing to waste the excellent position they had, my fingers slid lower on her torso, until they slipped through the barrier her bra tried to provide. With that, she froze, but I chose to squeeze her nipple between my fingers.

I was expecting her to react negatively, therefore giving me an excuse to punish her in front of the guard, but surprisingly, she just returned the task in her hand, or more accurately, in her mouth. I was surprised at her obedience, I had been expecting more resistance from her. Maybe I had been more successful than I had hoped.

Of course, it was just an excuse for me to push even further. I dropped my quill for a moment, and reached for the letter-opener on my desk, charmed for sharpness but without the ability to cut the living tissue. The perfect tool to help Hermione undress, I decided as I placed it on her back. I pulled my left hand from inside her bra, but still inside her tank-top, pushing the fabric away from her skin. I dragged the edge of letter-opener over it, and her white top fell apart in two pieces, sliding towards the ground without any support.

That managed to cut through her concentration.

She pulled away, leaving my shaft, wet with her spit, to dangle freely with a shine. "What-" she tried to say, but I was ready. I used my free hand to grab her by the cheeks, preventing her from saying anything more, while I mouthed her to play along, trying to convince her that it was just a ploy to convince our peeping guard. I kept eye contact until she gave a resigned nod, then raised the letter opener once more. Three slashes later, two on the straps, and one on the hooks, her bra followed the same path with her top.

Her arms rose, too late to catch the bra that slid away, but quick enough to hide her breasts away after the sustained glimpse they allowed. "What are you waiting for," I asked with an abrasive voice as I swapped for the quill. "Go back to your work."

"Yes, sir," Hermione murmured. I would have believed that it was just an attempt to maintain the role, in particular, fixing the damage her earlier actions caused. But surprisingly, the fleeting expression in her face was different, suggesting a more honest, a more primal reaction. Her arms were crossed over her chest, trying to hide her breasts, but nevertheless, she leaned forward, capturing my shaft once more.

I quickly scribbled a few more signatures before asking the guard to take them away, but leave the door open when he left. I wanted to test just how deep her submissive streak went. The guard did so, leaving me alone with Hermione, who was too distracted with her new situation to notice his disappearance.

The time to test her limits was finally here…