After the demonstration of what his "pull" was capable of in the hallway with Vicky, Harry spent dinner trying to learn some conscious control over it by focusing on certain girls.
To his frustration, however, he couldn't seem to affect it at all.
Once dinner was over, Harry--trailing Gabby, of course--Ron and Hermione retired to the common room to work on their homework.
Gabby contented herself by simply sitting on the arm of Harry's chair and leaning against him while he worked, Ron was frantically trying to finish the Potions essay that was due the next day, Harry got an early start on the Transfiguration assignment they were given that morning and Hermione--
Hermione, sitting in an armchair that faced Harry's, seemed to be doing her level best to keep her eyes fixed to her Charms book, but nearly every time Harry glanced in her direction she seemed to have just quickly looked away from him.
After he saw her eyes dart away the third time, he divided his attention between reading for his essay and attempting to gain control over his "pull" by trying to focus it off of Hermione.
Unfortunately, he had just as much success as he'd had with it at dinner.
By the time the common room started to empty as students shuffled off to bed, Harry was wondering if it would help Hermione if he just told her about everything: the bond, Gabrielle, his new-found ability.
Perhaps if she were consciously aware that what was affecting her was magically induced, she might be more easily able to put it aside.
Then again, she might not take the fact that something that Harry was doing was manipulating her, even if it wasn't something he was able to control.
In the end, he reckoned that even if he did tell her, she'd likely forget about it the first time he was out of her sight.
That raised some interesting questions in Harry's mind, though.
How much would people forget?
If he told them about the bond would they be able to remember it?
Would they perhaps remember that he was bonded but constantly forget to whom?
What if he decided he wanted people to notice Gabby was around?
Was she condemned to a life of constantly being overlooked?
What if something happened to him?
Would she just fade into obscurity, never to be noticed by anyone again?
Or if the worst happened--if he died--would she be released from the bond or would it drag her down along with him?
Would she die if he died?
Or worse yet, would she survive only to slowly wither away from the loss of her bond-mate?
Perhaps sensing his mood, she leaned into him and rubbed his back providing comfort.
He glanced at her and she gestured with her head towards the stairs.
He understood perfectly.
Announcing that it was late and that he was tired, he and Gabby retreated to his bed.
There, surrounded by drawn and silenced curtains, they slowly and tenderly made love to each other.
For that's what it was, he realized happily--less than twenty-four hours before, she was seducing him in that very bed--now, he was completely and totally in love with her.
And he couldn't imagine himself more pleased, content or fortunate.
The next morning, they both woke early.
They lay in bed, holding each other and talking.
Gabrielle tried to ease some of his concerns that had arisen in his mind the night before.
"I don't know what will happen if you die, Master," she said.
"There simply isn't enough known about this type of bond.
With the marriage bond, when one partner dies the bond doesn't kill the other so it's likely that it won't happen to us either."
"But if something does happen to me and you're OK, will you ever be noticed again?" he asked, a bit horrified by the thought that she wouldn't.
She smiled comfortingly.
"Don't forget, Master, that I can call attention to myself too.
That's why I'm quiet when we're in public, so people won't notice me."
He frowned a little in confusion.
"Why, though?" he asked.
"You said that if someone does notice you that they won't see it as being out of the ordinary, right?"
She nodded.
"So. . ." He didn't quite know how to put it.
"Why do I try not to call attention to myself?"
"Yeah."
"Master, just because the people that notice me don't find my presence unusual," she said carefully, "doesn't mean that they're not aware that I'm naked."
He considered what she'd said for a moment.
"But last night with Vicky," he said, "and yesterday with Ron.
And I think Hermione noticed you at lunch."
"Master," she said with the tone of one pointing out the obvious, "do you really expect me to have had any problem being naked with you and Vicky whilst the three of us were fucking?"
He took the point.
"But Ron and Hermione?"
"When Ron saw me the first time, I was embarrassed," she said.
"I don't think you noticed because you were too busy forgetting how to speak."
He blushed a bit at the memory.
"The second time he noticed me, I was more concerned about. . . other things."
"Oh," he said quietly, remembering their misunderstanding and wishing it had never happened.
"Hermione did notice me at lunch," she said slyly.
"That's part of why I did what I did."
Harry was stunned.
"You mean you gave me a. . ." He couldn't finish.
"Partly," she said, mirthfully.
"You made her notice me before we entered the Hall. She wouldn't stop looking at me. So I decided to duck down and pleasure you. I knew that as soon as I was out of her sight, she would forget that she'd seen me, I could embarrass you in return for you embarrassing me, and I would also get to taste you again."
She gave him a superior look.
"You make for very tasty afters."
Harry's look of incredulousness slowly changed into a smile.
"You, my little minx," he said, "are definitely going to get it."
He lunged at her, hands out, fingers spread as though he were going to tickle her.
She squealed in fear and delight and leapt from his bed.
She collided with Neville who was just getting up.
They saw each other and both blushed profusely.
Neville stammered something unintelligible, seized his dressing gown and shower kit and hurried from the room.
Gabby turned towards Harry, bent over and buried her face in the blankets on his bed.
After a few seconds, she looked back up at her Master, her blush receding.
"You see what I mean?" she asked.
"That was embarrassing."
Harry shook his head unbelievably.
"I can't believe what I'm seeing," he said with a mirthful twinkle in his eye.
"A perpetually nude, nymphomaniacal prude."
She managed to grab a pillow and hit him with it before he could move.
Laughing, they both left for the showers.
Harry managed to get his revenge on Gabby for her public blow-job during his first class that morning.
As they walked to class with Ron and Hermione, he lagged back a bit and whispered in Gabby's ear, "During class, I want you to stand where I put you and stay there until we're dismissed."
She looked up at him with wide, curious eyes, knowing that he had something planned but not knowing what it was.
As they settled down in their seats at the very back of the classroom--much to the annoyance of Hermione, who still took the desk next to him and sat just a little too close--Harry unobtrusively positioned the girl so that she was standing next to his desk facing the back wall of the classroom.
She planted her feet, determined to follow his instructions.
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