FicWad

Title: Bluer Than Indigo
Chapter: /Straight jacket label/
----

He was out again last night. Looking at my wrapped forearm, I can tell he was. His prey, Daphne Greengrass this time, fought back for a moment or two. Of course, if the girl expected to overpower Him physically she was nothing short of foolish. We may look thin and weak, but all the work at Number Four has built a small amount of muscle on this pathetic body of mine. Greengrass is nothing short of a Pureblood Princess. She does nothing for herself physically. She has no chance of developing any sort of strength. Regardless of strength or not, I muse with another wince as my hours old wounds bump into my bag, she is capable of damage when she feels the need.

Hermione is fervently ignoring me as I head towards first period Potions with her and Ron. Nearly there, I notice a crowd gathering outside of the abandoned classroom I found Daphne and Smith in. I nearly choke when I hear McGonagall's stern voice leave the room, along with Sprout's and Slughorn's. I barely contain my laughter, while Ron fails to entirely, when Zacharias Smith is dragged out of the classroom, with only Slughorn's robes wrapped round his midsection. Hermione glares disapprovingly. I couldn't care less presently. And then, like that, the robes are gone. Smith blinks. The professors blink as well, before searching the crowd from their vantage point. In the back a particularly nasty seventh year Slytherin hides his wand beneath his sleeve.

"Oh my god," an unknown female whispers not quite quiet enough to go unheard. "Look at the size of it! It's so small," Giggles erupted as Smith turned an impressive shade of purple. Not Vernon impressive, but impressive in its own rights. I spy Daphne's unknown friend and Tracey laughing uproariously behind the group as well.

"Honestly," Hermione gave a detesting, McGonagall like sigh. "These people are so immature."

I shrug at her, "What do you expect? Everyone to be prudish and stuck up like you and McGonagall?" Hermione glares at me and I simply look at her. "What? What do you want me to say?" I can see Ron biting his tongue to keep quiet next to me. "Would you prefer that I lie to you and tell you that you are open minded and outgoing?"

"What the hell would you know about being open minded or outgoing?" She quietly snarls at me.

Images and whispers float across the back of my mind. Remaining calm will irritate her more. I must manipulate already given information to become my truths. "Compared to you, Hermione," I say slowly. "I am one of those rather bothersome University students that are always drunk and partying too much for their own good." I turn and leave her and Ron, opting to make my way around the crowd.

As I am walking away, a hand grabs me. I turn to see Ron looking irritable. "Look, mate," he grinds out. "I know you are depressed and angry about Sirius, but you aren't the only one who was affected. You have to think about other people's feelings as well." Hermione looks like she couldn't be prouder of the twit.

"I need to think about other peoples feelings?" I ask in a very slow draw that could show my annoyance and incredulity to even Hagrid. "Coming from the son of a blast ended skrewt who was ready to label me an attention seeking twat fourth year."

Ron glows red with embarrassment. "I apologized for that, and..."

"Because sorry makes everything so much better," Sarcasm drips from every word, enough for even Weasley here to notice. "Maybe I should go ask Voldemort for an apology for killing my parents! Or even ask Lestrange for one regarding Sirius! Do you think that would help, Weasley?"

"We are just trying to help, Harry." Hermione interrupts. I glare at her before Ron opens his mouth again.

He snorts in disgust at me. "You should be glad you parents are dead, Potter. At least now they don't have to see what a selfish, inconsiderate arse you turned out to be." Hermione looks appalled, while I simply seethe beneath the surface. He and I may not agree on many things, but our mother is someone we both respect endlessly. Such an insult won't be tolerated.

Quicker than he can defend against, my fist is already connecting with Ron's nose. He recoils and slams into a wall, staying upright. Blood pours down his nose and pools in the hands clutching it. Hermione is shrieking for assistance as I slam a second fist into the side of his head and a third in the guy. Like most would, he doubles over, and I slam a fist into the back of his head. He drops instantly, clutching it. With the wall directly against his back, he has nowhere to hide when I unleash a flurry of kicks to his midsection. Ron coughs up blood after a few kicks and as I continue, I suddenly am lifted from my feet and dragged away from him. My head flies wildly about looking for my assailant, but my vision is limited severely.

"That'll be enough, Mr. Potter," Slughorn says with disappointment in his voice. I am placed on the ground but not released, much to my displeasure. "Madame McGonagall, I will escort Mr. Potter to the Headmaster's office if you would like to tend to this young man," She doesn't reply as she is instantly kneeling before the bloody fool. "This way if you would, Harry."

Our walk is in silence for the most part, the potion master shooting me disappointed and expectant looks, as if I will explain it to him. I assume he comes to the conclusion that I don't see these looks and simply asks. "Harry, if you don't mind my asking, what spurred this sudden show of violence?"

I do mind thank you very much, you great sodding git! "Weasley insulted my mother," I say simply, which is probably enough justification in his mind as well as my own, given his obsession with her. "I'll tolerate people insulting me, but not her," He nodded, his disappointed look fading slightly, but still remaining.

"I understand that, my boy," He tells me, and I doubt that he does. "From as a boy younger than you until I was nearly thirty, my mother was the most important woman in my life. Probably why my fiancé left me for my best friend now that I think about it," He mused. I looked at him strangely. Someone would agree to marry this... thing that is probably as big if not bigger than Dudley?

"Hmm," I hum noncommittally.

"You know, you remind me of myself at times," He presses on. What a scary thought. Glancing at him, I can't help but hope I don't turn out like him. "You are brave, strong, noble, loyal, and have just the right hint of Slytherin deep down inside."

"Thank you," I force myself to say. "Lately with all the pressure, it feels like no one appreciates me anymore." Whispering fills my ears again, and I feel a push on my tongue, spurring it into use. He tries influencing me again. An image flits across my mind. It's more of a vision, in fact. I, surprisingly, agree that this could be a good thing. "Uh, professor," I call to gain his attention as we stop outside the gargoyle leading to Dumbledore's office, "Would you mind giving me private lessons?"

"In potions?" He asks confused, though seemingly thrilled with the idea. "You are a wonderful potions master, Harry. Just like you mother was. I doubt you need my assistance."

"I suppose," I agree with him. "But I was thinking of more a kind of apprenticeship sort of thing. An all encompassing thing. I need to learn Occlumency and Snape is the only one Dumbledore would appoint to do it. I'm sure there are many other things you can teach me that are useful as well."

"Of course I can, dear boy!" He beams with pride. "I would love to. Mind, it'll be tiring and you'll have to work hard at it, but I've no doubt we can turn you into a master with time." I give him a smile of thanks as he whispers the password, gingersnap.

And suddenly, I don't feel so well anymore. I don't want to see the headmaster. I am still infuriated with him. By proxy, it is his fault. His fault I am in this situation. It's his fault, by proxy, that I have grown up abused and neglected. And it's his fault Sirius is dead. If only he would have learned to listen to people. He probably still hasn't learned to. But can I risk releasing Him in the presence of Dumbledore? Somehow, I feel it doesn't matter. And so I fall into blackness for a time.

---

"Horace," Dumbledore greets the professor to my right. "Ah, and Mr. Potter. What do I owe this pleasure to?"

I simply stare at the desk, while Slughorn speaks. "Nothing pleasant, I'm afraid, Albus. Mr. Potter has physically assaulted a fellow student, Ronald Weasley I believe," I nod my agreement.

"Oh?" Dumbledore asks slightly surprised, while looking at me.

"Indeed," Horace continues with all the self importance only he can muster. "Caught him by surprise, I believe. The boy barely had any time to react to young Harry striking him. Let him in a right state as well," Unless I am imagining it, he seems to have a bit of pride in his voice now. I must not, considering the look Albus is giving him. "When I left, it was obvious he had at least one broken rib and his nose shattered. His eye will be blackened, possibly swollen."

Dumbledore sighs and looks at me. "Mr. Potter?"

I looked at him. "He insulted my mother. Told me she was better off dead, considering what a self important ass I've become. I simply couldn't control my temper with all the pressure I've been under and so little assistance in dealing with it." There is no regret, no remorse, and no emotions in my voice. Only the cool and calm persona that I was created with shines through. It causes Horace to look at me with a funny expression and Dumbledore winces at my words.

"I... see," the headmaster breathes.

"Regardless of your views of pacifism, Weasley deserved it. I won't apologize and I don't regret it."

"...Then I have no choice but to assign you a months worth of detention to be served with Professor Snape." The headmaster says, looking at me with a look that tells me there is more to it than simple punishment. It didn't matter. I wouldn't show if this was my only option.

"No," I tell him simply.

"No?" Albus repeats with a raised questioning eyebrow.

"Whether or not you believe me, Snape," I say, ignoring the headmaster's correction of the man's proper title, "Is a complete git and I have no reason to trust him, and so won't. Having the talent to do something doesn't equal the ability to teach it either. Which, might I add, could possibly be the reason every student outside of Slytherin hates him. Lastly, I do believe that Professor Slughorn..."

"Horace, dear boy," He corrects jovially. "Horace."

I nod slightly. "Horace has agreed to teach me occlumency."

Dumbledore looks at Horace slightly perturbed. "I do not think this is a wise idea. Horace is indeed trustworthy, but this is not simply about lessons, Harry. You must learn to work past your invidiousness and cooperate peacefully with Professor Snape."

"With all due respect, sir, the only thing I must do is train myself to be ready to kill Voldemort when the time comes," Horace looks at me surprised. "Snape has no place in that equation. Furthermore, it is my mind that would be raped by that sadistic fool, not yours. Simply put, you concerns matter little to me. I have arranged an alternative, and intend to follow it, with or without your approval."

"Have you lost so much trust in me that you no longer respect my opinions?"

I fight the urge to snort in disgust at him. "Trust must first be given to be received. And I do respect you sir. There are reasons you are considered the most powerful wizard alive, and I don't deny them. I merely question your logic."

"I have trusted you, Mr. Potter. More than I have trusted anyone else."

"Have you now?" I ask with a surprising amount of interest considering my lack of enthusiasm as of this point. "Then it must simply have been a lack of respect."

"Why do you think this?" Dumbledore asks, genuinely curious.

"You not only deemed my opinion of Snape a gross exaggeration, you felt I was unready to handle the burden of this foolish prophecy."

"I merely wanted..."

"... Me to have a proper childhood, yes, you've said it before." I interrupt. "But had you listened to warnings given to you before, you would have known I had no such thing. Proper childhoods don't include sleeping in cupboards beneath stairs, after all."

"Surely this isn't true."

I raise an eyebrow at him, truly wondering if he paid attention to anything before my Hogwarts years. "Did it not occur to you to check on my health? Or that something might be wrong when my letter was addressed to the cupboard under the stairs?"

"Arabella was always present to check on your condition, Harry. Also, the letters are magically addressed."

"Mrs Figg lived several blocks away. And it seems your entire staff is illiterate then, if they cannot read a simple envelope. I doubt they are attached to owls magically."

"Very well then, Mr Potter," The headmaster sighs, deflating in defeat. "You will serve your detention with Horace to continue your lessons."

"Thank you. Good day to you Headmaster, Horace," I give a nod before turning and fleeing with an appearance of comfort.

----

The week crawls by slower than a flobberworm could at its most energetic. With Ron trying to prove some idiotic goal only he understands by making a complete ass of himself, Neville's foul smelling plants of numerous breeds, and Seamus trying to instigate more fights; I honestly lost all will to return to my dorm. However I have, much to my chagrin, the unfortunate displeasure of having nowhere else to turn. Regardless, and quite surprisingly, most were uninterested in the entire situation. One would have thought it would have made their days considering all of the details about my personal life that they have wanted. The only upside is that, one; Quidditch tryouts are over, and two; Katie and I are going to Hogsmeade in less than an hour.

Quidditch was disastrous, and I am glad that it is finally over. Despite Katie attesting otherwise, Ron made a show of accusing me of replacing him on personal feelings alone. Not true. I decided to replace him as he has no talent for the game in front of a large group of people, such as a school. An arrogant seventh year, Cormac McLaggen, took his place. Using him as target practice for bludgers and beater tryouts seemed to have softened his swagger however. Eating a pound of Doxy eggs or not, several bludgers to the gut would make anyone think twice about his attitude. Kirke and Sloper retained the beater positions and improved quite a bit since last year. Katie, unsurprisingly, was head chaser this year. Ginny and Demelza Robins, a fifth year, were added to the chaser roster as well. All in all it went slowly and I am simply glad it's over.

And now I sit in the common room, Ginny studying across from me, waiting on Katie to appear so we can leave. Simple black slacks, a white t-shirt and dark green robes adorn my smallish body. The common room is blessedly silent for once, and I need not pay attention to bumbling idiots. Or rather, I though not until Hermione came and sat next to Ginny in one of the red and gold armchairs near the fireplace. I lie facedown content to ignore her so long as she ignores me.

"Harry," I nearly groan and turn my head to look at her but say nothing. "I ... well... I wanted to say sorry for being irritable lately. I know you've been under a lot of stress and never thought about it. I've always assumed you can handle anything."

"No, unfortunately, you don't know. Neither does anyone else for that matter. But regardless I am as human as you and everyone else. Everyone has their breaking point."

She sighs. "I know, I just want to help, is all."

"Then stop trying to," I tell her flatly. "Because inevitably anything you try will only serve to annoy me. Trust me when I tell you there is nothing you can do."

"Why?" she asks, semi-confused and desperate to help.

"Because," I pause to think. "You think of the world a certain way. I see it differently, due to my upbringing. They clash, and my current problem would only bring about irreconcilable problems," I sigh. "What it boils down to, Hermione, is that I have secrets and you must learn that even the best of friends keep secrets. I doubt you've told me every little detail of your life, so why should I be forced to do thus if you aren't held to the same standard?"

"I suppose," Hermione admits grudgingly.

"Then when I tell you I don't want to talk about something, you'll accept it and move on?"

She pauses and sighs. "Yeah, I will."

"Good," I smile at her. "Then all is well that ends well. No need to discuss this any further." That finished, I bury my face back into a pillow on the couch.

Twenty minutes and much idle chat later; Katie appears and sits beside me on the couch. She looks fabulous. She is wearing a soft coloured blue tee that brings out her dazzling dark azure eyes. It is also quite a blessing as it brings out her voluptuous chest spectacularly. Her softly tanned legs slowly leave a white skirt that stops at her knees. Her robes are white as well, and look rather attractive on her. I can't help but stare momentarily and I think she notices, if her smirk is anything to go by.

When she sits, I place an arm around her and pull her closer to me. Ginny glares at her when she hums in contentment and snuggles deeper into me, resting her head on my shoulder. I nearly smirk at the viciousness hidden behind Ginny's eyes and decided to play a little further. The thought of doing so, however, shocks me. It seems something He would do, not me. Mayhaps I have relied on him too much. It's is a pointless matter, I decide as I lean down and capture Katie's lips. I only notice Ginny huffing angrily until Katie began suckling my lower lip, prodding it with her tongue.

When I leave Katie's incredibly sweet tasting lips, I notice several things. One, most of the females in the room are glaring at Katie, as is expected. Two, Ginny had gathered her things and stormed off rather angrily. And the last and most startling to me, which I do my best to hide; is that Hermione is looking the same as Ginny had moments ago. You would have to be a completely dense twit to miss the jealousy ringing in her eyes, or the anger on her face. She soon follows suit, and joins Ginny in stamping her displeasure on the innocent floor. All I can think is a very unimpressive; what the fuck? In all the years that I have known Granger, she has never expressed any interest in me aside from my studies.

----

Hogsmeade is overly breezey when we get there. The generally warm day is rapidly cooling because of the much colder breeze. It does wondrous things to the state of the female body. I can see her exposed flesh developing goose bumps as the wind strikes it. Though it isn't visible I can nearly imagine her small breasts becoming erect at the nipples. Her flesh would be pale, an unnatural thing for the tanned girl next to me. I only stop staring when she wraps her arms around herself in an attempt to shield her body from the wind. Quickly I remove my own, much thicker robes. Sliding them over her shoulders, she turns and smiles gratefully at me.

"How did you get those?" She asks suddenly.

I blink. "How did I get what?"

She pointed at my left arm, "those! How could you not notice them? The giant red streaking cuts on your arm." I look down and notice the seven lines that ran across my forearm. Shit. I had entirely forgotten about Daphne nearly flaying my arm.

"Well," I start simply and lamely, desperately thinking of an excuse. "I... sort of ... cut myself."

"I can see that, Merlin. How?" she asked.

"I cut myself," I say again, emphasising the word cut.

She blinks lamely at me. "Oh, why?"

I raise an eye at her. "Stress relief," I hint vaguely.

She looks at me for many moments before a look of understanding flits through her eyes azure eyes. "Oh dear lord." She says with a shake of her head. "I didn't need to know you were a masochist!"

"A what?"

She looks at me. "You're a masochist. A masochist is someone who enjoys pain in a ... sexual manner," She starts heading back to our destination, the Hog's Head, before turning back to me once more. "Ohhh," She muses aloud. "I get it now. This is what you were asking about the other day!'

"Uhh," I feign embarrassment and look down. "Yeah, it was."

The Hog's Head is relatively empty, though there are a few students in the dingy pub. The grumpy old grey haired bar keeper grunts a half greeting as we sit in a booth in the back corner. I have a simple butter beer while Katie has a fire whiskey. She explains that she is generally stressed and wanted something stronger to calm her nerves. The more she drinks, it seems, the looser she gets, inhibition wise. She doesn't have any problem expressing her sexual frustration, even if unwilling to do anything about it. She also seems to be sighing in frustration and huffing in anger at something, and refuses to tell me what.

Katie leers at me. "So, my dear Harrykins, are you ... pure?"

I sip my second fire whiskey. "No, 'fraid not."

Katie pouts, and I have to admit the childishness of it made her glow and look very attractive. "Ah pooh, and I was hoping to corrupt the pure and innocent Harry Potter."

I raise an eyebrow at her. "Offering are we, Bell?"

"HA!" She barks a laugh. "You wish, Potter. I ain't that easy. Stick around a few months and if you behave, we'll see." She casts her eyes over my shoulder discreetly before huffing again. Thinking nothing of it, I sipped again, but am startled when she suddenly stands, wavering slightly. Mayhaps I should have limited her drinking, now that I think of it. She seemed fairly well off.

"That's it." She nearly snarls. "I'm going to go have words with that bitch."

I grab her arm, "Words with whom?"

She flings her arm in a vague gesture behind me as I stand. "Her! Greengrass! She has been leering at you all night!"

"Let's just leave then," I offer. "There isn't any need to start fights over something stupid."

"No," She snaps at me. I am quite surprised at her force when she jerks her small wrist from my grip. "I'm going to make sure that damned Slytherin whore stays away from what is mine!" Her growl is possessive as she stalks towards Daphne.

I grab Katie's wrist just before she manages to get beyond my reach and pull her into the seat next to me on the booth's bench. "Katie, sit down. You have had one to many." In an effort to prevent her from further intoxicating herself, I down the last of my and her own fire whiskey. And bloody hell that causes a decent sized kick to the face. This, of course, leads to me being slightly stupid and releasing Katie to grab my own head.

"Oi," I hear Katie bellow as I released my head. It is rapidly becoming apparent that Katie is no longer next to me. "Greengrass!"

Daphne looks up as Katie stops at her table. "What do you want, ickle Gryffie?"

"What in the nine hells are you leering at, Pedo?" Katie slurs out. "Harry Potter is just a bit older than you prefer, ain't he?"

"What are you on about, cow?" Perturbed by the insult, my curiosity is more important at the moment. What IS Katie on about?

"You know exactly what I am on about, Greengrass. You and your little firstie orgies." Katie glares at her. "Filthy half blood that you are, I doubt you'd get anyone older anyway. What the hell makes you, of all people, think you're worthy of Harry Potter?"

Daphne pales rapidly, as do I. How in the name of Circe would Katie, of all people, know that? So many plausible situations race through my mind, all of them bad, that I can't help but fall paler by the moment, my eyes flickering with nervousness.

"What the hell would you know, you pathetic mudblood whore?!" Daphne snarls. I narrow my eyes in anger at the beautiful, petite, Slytherin. "I'd wager my family's fortune that the only dick you've been able to pull is your nasty little muggle father's!"

Katie's growl should be warning enough to realize she is going to do something rash, but at this point I'm not entirely focused enough on her to notice. I am silently fuming at the Slytherin bitch in front of me. Before I notice Katie move, Daphne crashes to the floor. Katie's fist is balled, and I deduce she had punched Greengrass. Daphne tries looking down at her lip. It is obvious that she knows she is bleeding. I am surprised when she openly leers at me, licking her lip seductively, before flicking her tongue at me.

"That the best you got, mudblood?" She asks as she stood. "I've been hit harder by house elves." Daphne taunts, arrogance dripping from her voice.

In a less than intelligent move, Katie jumps at her, tackling Daphne. Pinning and straddling the Slytherin, she slips in three punches before Daphne manages to roll. My attention suddenly drifts as I notice Katie's southern area. Daphne not only pinned Katie, but her skirt as well. Her tanned legs are exposed all the way to her white knickers, which have a noticeable damp spot on them. Daphne, rather than retaliating physically, looks back at me. When she notices my looking, she smiles evilly.

The other patrons seemed to have gathered and begun gawking as well. Even the barkeeper is watching with thinly veiled interest. The grumpy old grey haired man is openly leering at Katie's bared flesh. He chucked humourlessly when I glare at him. Every male above first year seems to take interest in Katie's hapless situation. Hard as I might try, there is nothing I can do, save remove her from the Pub. I begin to do so as Daphne begins speaking. It takes much shoving and pushing to reach them with everyone crowding around, trying to get a closer look.

"Harry!" A voice from behind me cries. I turn to see Susan Bones along with Hannah Abbot and a shorter red-haired girl, Megan something I believe. Beyond Susan and her friends I notice Cho, a devious light in her eye. It is almost as if she is enjoying Katie's humiliation. Marietta sits quietly, looking between Daphne, Katie, and myself.

Susan grabs my arm as she reaches my location. "Aren't you going to stop them?"

I look at her dumbly for a moment. "What?"

"Stop them!" Susan repeated.

I look at the two girls on the ground, before looking back at Susan, my mind blank. Susan growls in frustration at me.

"Look at that, Bell." Daphne drawls sweetly. "You must be lusting hard for Potter. Too bad that even as a half blood, he is still too good for you, mudblood."

Katie manages to free one of her hands, connecting with a solid punch to Daphne's jaw. The Slytherin topples off and Katie moves to pound the prone girl again. I decide that enough is enough and grab Katie around the waist, pulling her up and moving towards the door.

"Enough is enough, Katie." I hiss in her ear as I move out of the pub. The sun has already gone when I set her down, pushing her toward the castle. "You've embarrassed yourself enough already," Katie leans into me as we walk, silent for most of the trip. I am content to leave an arm around her as we walk.

"I'm sorry," Katie's voice surprises me, as does the glimmering in her eyes. "I made fools of both of us," A few tears leak out as she pushes harder into my side. "I should have known better than to drink so much. That always happens."

"Hey," I say softly, rubbing her shoulder. "It's alright. Everyone makes mistakes, you know."

"But it's not alright!" She insisted fiercely. "I know how I get when I drink. I get all angry really easy and I get..." She trails off.

"Get?" I ask. She looks decidedly uncomfortable, which is a very different Katie than the one I know. "Never mind," I tell her. "If it makes you uncomfortable, you don't need to tell me."

"No," her voice is very soft and not as confident as normal. "It's alright. Fire whiskey is very... stimulating... to me."

Stimulating, I ponder. "Oh," I answer dully as I realize. "I'm sure you aren't the only one." She just shrugs. "Hey, are you alright?" I ask, concern completely dominating my voice.

She doesn't answer for a long moment, and we are nearly at the gates when she finally does. "No, I'm not." She pauses, gathering her thoughts as she stares blankly. "My father and I have always been close, you know."

I nod at her words. "And Greengrass' taunting touched a nerve."

"Yeah," she responds. "Look, don't worry about me. I'll be fine."

I look at her doubtfully but unwilling to push. "I sincerely doubt that, but I'll give you your space if you want it."

"Thanks." Katie looks at me finally. "Sorry I ruined this for you."

"It's alright, really," I insist. "Next time, no fire whiskey."

"Next time?" She asks confused.

"Sure, next time," I say casually. "Like a second date or whatever you'd like to call it."

"Really?" She asks hopefully.

I decide I look incredibly uncomfortable and nervous. "I...really like you Katie." I admit. "I respect you a lot, both on and off the pitch. You are generally a nice person, and I love your personality. I'd like to try a serious relationship with you if you're willing." I look at her in askance. Rather than an answer, she crushes me into a fierce hug, capturing my willing lips.

----

I'm walking around the hallways of the school smugly. True enough, my lip was split but I felt I had the over all victory. Stupid Gryffindors don't know what it means to win. Except perhaps my master, that is. He is different, I think. Though I loathe to call him my master, I have little else, really. He was right, what he said. If he told anyone, I'd be as worthless as a Hufflepuff. So I have to keep him pleased, though I will test my boundaries whenever I can. Putting my anger aside, that was my primary motivation for pushing Bell's buttons. We will have to wait and see once I find him. And that is what I intend to do now. Find him, give him the hairs he requested, and maybe receive punishment.

And indeed, strange as it might be, I desire the punishment. It felt so good to have him run so deep inside of me. To have him pounding my flesh with relentless desire. I want to feel it again for an unknown reason. I want to be violated. And so I seek my master now.

The castle is large and I've been walking for quite some time now. Two hours are wasted as I search pointless, unused corridors and rooms, hopeful he will be there. Hopeful that he will be there, breaking another girl, one that I will be able to assist with. It is what drove me to the first years. Their unwillingness to cooperate. I liked breaking them, and making them mine. Of course, as they got older, they realized my lies and were no longer mine. It didn't matter though, since most were too embarrassed to admit what I did. Even to a professor.

An hour has passed and I suspect curfew is now passed when I spot my target. My master is standing waiting for a girl to reach him. I frown, not recognizing her, only her Gryffindor badge. With all the grace and agility of a fox, I slide behind a statue, close enough to hear them speaking. The girl is friendly and kind in her greeting, blonde hair bouncing as she skips to him. Her muddy green eyes sparkle happily as she gazes at him. She is as tall as my master, tanned, but not overly noticeable. She is average in every aspect.

"Harry!" The unknown girl greets. "What are you doing out here?"

"Demelza," he greets back, kindness radiating from him. Funny name she has. "I was just looking for Hermione." The mudblood. I wonder why he was looking for her.

"Oh," Her cheer slips slightly before being replaced. "She isn't on duty tonight. Didn't she tell you that?"

"No," He tells her, looking confused. "She didn't." He hums thoughtfully. "Say, would you let me copy your prefect timetable?"

"I don't know, Harry." She says, conflicted. "I'm not supposed to."

"You know me, Dem. You know I won't do anything I'm not supposed to."

"Really I'm not supposed to," she persists.

Slipping from the shadows, I add my two cents. "Why not simply seduce her," I suggest, causing them both to look quickly in my direction. "It would be simpler and she obviously wants you, Master."

Demelza looks between us, confused as my Master glares at me. When he stops, he looks like he knows what I am thinking, though I am sure he doesn't. "That isn't a bad idea, Greengrass." He drawls. "Blanditia," he whispers, pointing his wand at me. At first nothing, then the burning desire in my loins begins to burn hotter and is so much harder to ignore. He slides closer to the still confused girl, sliding a hand around her waist.

"Why did she call you mast..." Her words die in her throat as his hand slides beneath her skirt. "No... please..." She moans, only barely resisting the idea.

Master's hand stops as he chuckles in her ear. "Are you sure you want me to stop?"

She is silent for a moment, before responding to him. "No."

As his hand slides beneath her skirt he moves back to stand against the wall, placing her in front of him. With his free hand, he points to a shadowy alcove directly across from him, "Sit, with your hands behind your back." I do. She moans and I can see his hand working beneath her skirt. She resists for only a moment before placing her hand on top of his, directing him to her sensitive spots. He lifts her skirt, showing me her blond pubic hair behind the red knickers that were pulled aside. It is an intoxicating experience, watching her muff invaded and seeing the juices leaking down her legs. She pushes her round arse into his stiffening penis as he invades her faster and faster, flicking her clit.

"Ahhh!" she moans as he twists her clit. My hands started gliding of their own accord to my own twat. A sudden blast of pain bursts through my knuckles as they grip my skirt.

"Put them back where they were," My master commands firmly. I whimper pitifully, begging mercy with my eyes. "You'll be relieved when I allow it, slave. Not one single moment sooner."

"Please," I beg.

"No," is his firm reply. I whimper again, both in disappointment and pain as my arousal becomes physically painful.

Demelza bites her lip as she groans and moans, her orgasm exploding through her. Her knees tremble visibly when she does, and he only stands because master supports her. He whispers something to her and she slumps down and turns to face him. She struggles to release his jeans and pull his throbbing member from its prison. In a smooth motion, she swallows all that she can before gagging on the large, sweat covered flesh appendage. Slurping and sucking, the small part of the hallway is filled with obscene noises as she swallows his flesh again and again. His slim fingers run through her blond hair as her tongue swirls round his head. Finally, after many torturous minutes, he looks up at me.

"Come here, pet." He commands. I crawl to him, kneeling obediently next to the girl working his wand. "I think you need a reward for pushing this idea along, don't you?" I nod happily. He frees himself from Demelza and she watches, entranced, as I swallow him. With a single thrust, his entire length is within my mouth, spilling its contents. As I pull my head back, he forces it back down. "Swallow it all like a good girl." Revulsion fills me, but I comply. I drink him, hating the taste. Hating its horrible feel, as the salty thick liquid trails down my tongue and throat.

"That's a good little slut," he purrs as he grabs my chin, forcing me to look into his eyes. "Try to remember next time that I own you, bitch." His emerald eyes darken as he gazes upon me. "And then there is the matter of punishing you for the incident with Katie." My eyes gleam with anticipation as he speaks of it. "But of course it won't be pleasant. You'll meet me in the shrieking shack tomorrow at midnight."

"Yes, sire." I respond immediately.

"I also forbid you any relief until that time."

"But," I insist immediately, before quelling under his glare. "As you wish." I stare at the floor. Mayhaps I was not so wise to incur his ire.

"Your time limit is up as well," He tells me, suddenly remembering the incident last week. "Have you failed, as I expect you have?"

"No," I tell him proudly, fishing out the four vials. Each one contains three hairs from Parkinson and Malfoy.

"Then you will get your reward tomorrow." I beam at him.

He turns away from me, looking down at the Gryffindor prefect. "Can I copy your timetable, Dem, love?" He asks sweetly. Absentmindedly, she hands it to him, eyes still closed. He levels his wand at her forehead. "Obliviate." Without another word, he slinks off further into the castle's hallways.

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Notes:
Silent has once again done a beautiful job. Praise and bow to here. Darksyaoran, LT2000, Xiph0, and All the others from darklordpotter(dot)net deserve much thanks as well for all the help they have given me with this story as well.