It's like when you have a puppy...
Tiny Way to Die
chapter 15
by
copier
· original author:
wannnaone
Hermione’s calm and almost condescending tone snapped you out of your stunned silence. She adjusted her position slightly, her foot still resting on your chest as she looked down at you with a mix of determination and what could only be described as amusement.
"See, Harry," she said, as if explaining something to a child, "it’s just like how you train a puppy to know its owner. Familiarity breeds comfort."
Your jaw dropped. "Hermione, I’m not a puppy!" you spluttered, your face burning with a mix of indignation and embarrassment.
She chuckled softly, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "Of course you’re not, Harry. But the principle is the same. Puppies get used to their owners through proximity, touch, and scent. It helps them feel safe and secure. And in your current situation, I think a little bit of that approach could work wonders for you."
You stared at her, utterly dumbfounded. Was she serious? She had just compared you—Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived—to a puppy.
"Hermione," you began, your voice strained, "this is beyond ridiculous. I don’t need to be 'trained' or 'conditioned' like some kind of pet."
She sighed, closing her book with an air of finality and leaning forward slightly. "Harry," she said patiently, "you’re dealing with a lot right now. You’re shrinking, you’re vulnerable, and you’re clearly struggling to adapt. This is just a way to help you adjust more quickly. It’s not meant to be demeaning."
"Not meant to be demeaning?" you repeated incredulously. "You just stuck your toe in my mouth and compared me to a dog!"
Hermione rolled her eyes, a faint smirk playing at her lips. "You’re being dramatic. It’s not like I’m making you fetch or roll over. I’m just trying to help you get comfortable with the changes you’re going through. And honestly, Harry, it’s for your own good. You need to trust me."
You groaned, burying your face in your hands. "This is insane," you muttered.
"Insane or not, it’s working," Hermione said cheerfully, picking her book back up and settling into her seat again. "You’re already getting used to being close to me, aren’t you?"
You didn’t dignify that with a response, though you couldn’t deny that her sheer confidence and determination made arguing with her feel utterly futile.
"Good boy," she teased, her tone light and playful as she nudged your shoulder with her foot.
You glared up at her, your cheeks blazing. "Hermione, I swear—"
"Shh," she interrupted, flipping a page in her book. "Relax, Harry. Just think of this as a bonding experience. You’ll thank me later."
As you sat there, thoroughly humiliated and questioning every life choice that had led you to this moment, you couldn’t help but wonder how on earth you were going to survive the rest of the school year under Hermione’s “care.”
"See, Harry," she said, as if explaining something to a child, "it’s just like how you train a puppy to know its owner. Familiarity breeds comfort."
Your jaw dropped. "Hermione, I’m not a puppy!" you spluttered, your face burning with a mix of indignation and embarrassment.
She chuckled softly, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "Of course you’re not, Harry. But the principle is the same. Puppies get used to their owners through proximity, touch, and scent. It helps them feel safe and secure. And in your current situation, I think a little bit of that approach could work wonders for you."
You stared at her, utterly dumbfounded. Was she serious? She had just compared you—Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived—to a puppy.
"Hermione," you began, your voice strained, "this is beyond ridiculous. I don’t need to be 'trained' or 'conditioned' like some kind of pet."
She sighed, closing her book with an air of finality and leaning forward slightly. "Harry," she said patiently, "you’re dealing with a lot right now. You’re shrinking, you’re vulnerable, and you’re clearly struggling to adapt. This is just a way to help you adjust more quickly. It’s not meant to be demeaning."
"Not meant to be demeaning?" you repeated incredulously. "You just stuck your toe in my mouth and compared me to a dog!"
Hermione rolled her eyes, a faint smirk playing at her lips. "You’re being dramatic. It’s not like I’m making you fetch or roll over. I’m just trying to help you get comfortable with the changes you’re going through. And honestly, Harry, it’s for your own good. You need to trust me."
You groaned, burying your face in your hands. "This is insane," you muttered.
"Insane or not, it’s working," Hermione said cheerfully, picking her book back up and settling into her seat again. "You’re already getting used to being close to me, aren’t you?"
You didn’t dignify that with a response, though you couldn’t deny that her sheer confidence and determination made arguing with her feel utterly futile.
"Good boy," she teased, her tone light and playful as she nudged your shoulder with her foot.
You glared up at her, your cheeks blazing. "Hermione, I swear—"
"Shh," she interrupted, flipping a page in her book. "Relax, Harry. Just think of this as a bonding experience. You’ll thank me later."
As you sat there, thoroughly humiliated and questioning every life choice that had led you to this moment, you couldn’t help but wonder how on earth you were going to survive the rest of the school year under Hermione’s “care.”
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June 1
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