Don't tell me what I can and can't do, Potter. – Minerva McGonagall
Harry Potter lazily thrust into the witch beneath him with mild interest at best. Her faux moans of pleasure filled his ears and he felt his erection waning. There had been a time, he swore there had been a time when he had cared deeply for his wife. He couldn't recall the time, but he was adamant it had existed.
It was pure folly to marry his mate's ex-girlfriend, but Harry had been an honourable wizard. Lavender Brown had come to him with fear and trembling. She had sobbed something about a Protection Charm gone wrong and that was that. He had to marry her.
Molly Weasley had told him he was an honourable man, but Harry hadn't felt that way at all. He felt suffocated and trapped. He felt as though he had been robbed of his future when it was the only thing that was truly his. A madman had stolen his childhood and his future had been pilfered by a woman he didn't love.
Harry watched Lavender's large breasts bounce and it wasn't an unwelcome sight, but those mewling sounds were something else entirely. He couldn't stand them. He often wondered if she had ever been pregnant at all, but knew it would be unkind to ask.
"Why do you do that?" Harry finally muttered.
"You used to like the noises I made when we made love," Lavender frowned.
"I liked them when you meant them, but you and I both know you don't mean them anymore," Harry finally gave up and rolled off his wife.
Lavender Potter sat up and scrunched the sheet around her breasts. She knew he wasn't happy. She tried, but she had always been a jealous woman. She hated the way she used to catch him gazing longingly at Hermione Granger. She wanted him to look at her that way dammit. The prestige of being Mrs Harry Potter wasn't everything she thought it would be.
"Harry, I want a baby."
Harry incredulously stared at his wife, his mouth agape. They weren't remotely happy and she wanted to add a squalling infant to their lives? The last thing he wanted was to have a child, let alone with her.
"Lav, I think—" Harry paused and tugged on his midnight locks. "I want a divorce."
"You and Ron keep throwing around that word as if it's a possibility," Lavender scoffed. "Draco Malfoy didn't even bother to tell you the truth of the matter. If you had been raised by wizards, you would know it's nearly impossible to get a hearing with the Wizengamot."
"It isn't impossible. I know the Minister for Magic, personally. I'm Harry Potter. They wouldn't refuse me, Lav," Harry rolled his eyes and snatched his spectacles off the nightstand.
"Of course it isn't impossible, Harry. In fact, they'll suggest Marriage Therapies," Lavender huffed and tossed a shapeless housedress over her head. "I've asked Luna to come by for a consult."
"What? A consult for what?" Harry slipped into a pair of red plaid boxers and scratched his chest.
"Do you ever listen?" Lavender sighed. "Luna runs that little shop near Knockturn Alley. Naughty Nargles, it's scandalous really. She specialises in risqué nightwear and apparently, she has quite the selection of vibrating wands. I told you all about it last week at dinner. Anyway, she's offering consultations to couples that wish to spice up their sex life. Based on this morning's performance, it couldn't hurt to have a chat. She should be here at half nine."
Lavender hastily made the bed, while Harry stood still. He attempted to process her words, but it really didn't make sense to him. He'd told his wife he wanted a divorce and her response was a sex consult.
"Lavender, it's half nine now ."
Lavender squeaked in alarm and hurried from their bedchamber. She quickly finger combed her unruly blonde waves and hurried into the sitting room as the green flames roared to life. She smiled tightly when Luna Lovegood stepped into the room.
"Wotcher, Lavender," Luna swung her extraordinarily large flower patterned bag and set it on the coffee table with a low grunt. "Harry."
"Er, Luna," Harry mumbled.
He hastily escaped to the kitchen and prayed the water was still hot enough to procure a cup of tea. He realised his Oxford was buttoned improperly and shook his head. There was something about Luna that made him a bit nervous.
Harry knew he didn't have a definitive reason for such things, but it was quite true. He'd often catch her studying him or even smiling in that knowing fashion of hers. She was attractive, any fool knew that, but she was also incredibly odd.
"Harry!" Lavender shouted.
He groaned and yet managed to pour a cup of tea before he stepped into the great room with a sense of dread. Harry wasn't the least bit interested in the items Luna had carefully set on the coffee table, but it seemed his wife was absolutely riveted. It was much easier to stare at the scuff on his shoes than focus on their whispered conversation.
"Do you like it, Harry?"
Harry lifted his head and stared directly into cornflower blue eyes that did strange things to the patter of his heart. He watched her elegant fingers float in the air and breezily point toward his wife. With regret, Harry focused on Lavender and gulped heavily.
"What do you think?" Lavender asked breathily.
"Oh uhm, I think there should be more to it," Harry nodded, quite satisfied with his answer.
Lavender blushed and he swore he saw tears, but that couldn't be right. Lavender never cried. She shouted. She hexed. She threw things. She demanded. She never cried.
"Harry, that was unkind," Luna sighed.
Harry's eyes dropped to the sway of Luna's hips and he felt a stirring in his loins. He tried to avert his gaze, but the swing of her breasts called to him and he bloody well knew they were swinging delightfully free beneath her blouse. Harry bit his knuckles to contain the moan of desire.
"I don't know what it is, I'm sorry," he finally said.
"It's a bedroom aid. Lavender told me you were having some troubles in the bedroom. We decided a few enticing ensembles might perk up your sad little fellow."
Luna Lovegood winked saucily over Lavender's shoulder and scrunched her nose in delight when Harry quickly sat on the settee. She manipulated Lavender's breasts into a daring nightie and led her toward Harry. She knew Lavender needed results, but she also knew they were not well suited to one another.
She pushed Lavender to the coffee table and pressed her hands on the witch's shoulders. Luna toyed with Lavender's lush hair and piled it on top of the woman's head while they waited for Harry's acknowledgement. She cleared her throat and green eyes were locked on her.
"I think this should be more to your liking, Harry. Close your eyes for a moment and picture her reclined upon your bed, willing and waiting for you," As Luna spoke she lifted her blouse until it rested on her head. "Now open your eyes."
Harry did exactly as he was instructed. He much preferred his eyes closed in all honesty. It's not that Lavender wasn't an attractive woman, she was. Harry just thought she tried too hard.
"Bloody hell," Harry gasped.
Lavender beamed and exhaled in relief when she saw the tent in his trousers. She closed her eyes and preened under his scrutiny, but little did she know, he wasn't looking at her. Instead, he stared hungrily at the now topless blonde.
Harry had never strayed from his wife and for the first time, he desperately wanted to. He wanted to toss Luna onto the settee and shag her senseless. He wanted to taste her pink-pebbled peaks until she moaned like a dirty whore. He wanted to dig his fingers into her supple arse and he didn't know what to do about it.
Harry licked his lips and realised Luna's bare chest was covered with a delicious pink blush. He groaned in need and suddenly it was Lavender's hand on his knee. He smiled at her, but it didn't reach his eyes, not that she could tell. He knew she was far more pleased with his reactions than she should be and Harry was content to allow her to revel in lies.
He watched, disappointed, as Luna covered her bare chest once more. Lavender's hand was moving closer and closer to his cock and he suddenly needed to get out of the room.
"I need more tea!" Harry shouted and pushed to his feet.
"Hmm, tea sounds lovely. Lavender, why don't you set out the rest of the items?" Luna called over her shoulder and followed Harry into the modest kitchen.
She stood entirely too close for his liking when he set the kettle on. That was a lie. He liked it quite a bit more than he should. He felt slightly guilty but at the same time he was so excited by desire, it blurred the lines.
"You don't love her," Luna crooned into his ear.
"Wh-what?"
Luna Lovegood squeezed Harry's arse and pressed her untethered breasts into his back. She liked the muted moan that escaped his lips and forcefully spun him around. She boxed him with her hands on the sink basin and leant forward to lick his neck.
"If you loved her, truly loved her, you wouldn't be panting after me like this," Luna whispered against Harry's lips and he wondered when he had shoved his hands into her blouse. "You love the stability she symbolizes. You love her extraordinary heart. You love the way she looks at you, but you definitely don't want to shag her the way you want to shag me."
Harry's head spun and he hadn't the slightest idea what the fuck she was talking about, but he didn't care. He was touching her breasts. It was exciting and ridiculously naughty to maul her with his insipid wife in the next room, but he couldn't help it. He didn't want to help it.
"Wh-who are you talking about?" Harry grunted.
Harry chanced her wrath and nipped her throat, but Luna only sighed. He released her breasts and gripped her hip and her arse while his hips flexed into hers. Gods, he wanted her. He wanted to bend her over the bistro table and listen to her moan.
"Hermione," Luna murmured as she drew Harry's hand up her skirt.
"Fuck," Harry panted. "You're not wearing knickers."
Harry shuddered while his fingertips glanced over her sex. She was exceedingly wet and his cock ached in his trousers. It was easy to settle into a rhythmic motion and Luna swayed with her lips parted and her head hung flung back. He moved faster, deeper, and harder, determined to see this magnificent witch come undone.
Luna held Harry's shoulders and stared into his green eyes. Her breaths escaped in little puffs and her toes curled in her black flats. Her minute whimpers grew steadily louder and they easily ignored the whistle of the kettle. Luna latched onto Harry's lips and drowned the sounds of her shuddered release in his mouth.
"You're much better at that than Lavender said," Luna quipped as she poured the water over the tea leaves. "I think next time I'd rather enjoy utilising your cock."
Harry stared incredulously. He didn't know what the fuck to say to that. He waited for the heavy cloud of guilt to fill him, but it didn't come. Harry Potter felt free.
"Can we show Harry the wands?" Lavender asked the moment Harry returned and sat on the boring beige settee.
Lavender's light brown eyes sparkled with such happiness, far be it for Harry to inform her he didn't wish to see whatever sexual contraption she referred to. However, Luna smiled, quite demurely even, and once more, Harry's thoughts segued to her enticing breasts. He didn't even mind the insistent hand mauling him through his trousers as long as he could stare at the pretty little blonde bent over the coffee table.
"These are only a small portion of my collection of vibrating wands," Luna licked her lips quickly and Harry wished he was licking her lips until he glanced at the strange objects in her hands.
"Uhm, Luna, that doesn't look like a wand at all," Harry muttered nervously.
He hastily batted away Lavender's hot hand on his bollocks and forced himself to stand. Carefully, he edged toward the Floo, determined to escape the madness in his house. Harry definitely didn't trust his wife with one of those in her hands. Merlin only knew what she planned to do with it and he wished no part of that.
"Of course not, Harry," Luna grasped a particularly large, thick wand and shook it slightly.
Harry Potter's eyebrows rose into his hairline while green eyes were riveted by the object bobbing ever so gently in Luna's hands. He gulped loudly and cleared his throat, but couldn't force his lips to part with a scathing retort.
"It's a euphemism for cock," said Luna with a blindingly bright smile.
Lavender and Luna shared a conspiratorial grin and it was in that exact moment Harry made his escape. He ran for the Floo and tossed a scant handful of powder into the hearth. The green flames burst forth and while he was vaguely aware of his wife shouting at him, he ignored her and shouted his destination.
"I suppose he didn't want to play then," Lavender commented sullenly and slumped onto the settee.
"Potter?"
Theodore Nott frowned at the Auror and waited for the dishevelled man to compose himself. He hadn't expected Harry would want to accompany them to Hogwarts and yet there he was. He was an absolute disaster, but he was there. Theo looked to Hermione, but she only shrugged, obviously just as confused.
"Thank God," Harry breathed. "Hermione, do you mind if I have a word with Nott?"
Normally, Hermione would have bristled at being so easily dismissed but the pure unadulterated confusion laced with desperation in Harry's face had her offering a curt nod. She pushed the door and stepped into the crisp air. She didn't mind the walk up to Hogwarts alone. She'd done it for ages, after all.
"What are you doing here, Potter?" Theodore Nott pushed Harry onto a rickety stool and crossed his arms.
"What would you like, dearie?" Madam Rosmerta patted Harry on the back with rosy cheeks and a brilliant smile.
"Firewhiskey, all of the firewhiskey," Harry hissed.
"What on earth happened to you? Are you here to help with the Hex or to get drunk?" Theo begrudgingly sat beside the harrowed man and frowned heavily.
"Drunk, definitely drunk." Harry greedily downed his tumbler of firewhiskey and impatiently waited for Rosmerta to refill it before he turned to the brooding wizard. "I cheated on my wife and I liked it."
"About fucking time, Potter. Weasley owes me 50 galleons," Theo's frown segued into a smile that scared Harry. "Who was it? No, don't tell me. Let me guess. Hmm, well it wasn't Granger. I can't see you touching Pansy on purpose. Astoria is busy trying to get into Malfoy's trousers. Who the fuck is left?"
"Lovegood," Harry offered.
"Hmm yes," Theo nodded knowingly. "She's saucy. I bet she's a tigress between the sheets."
"I-I wouldn't know actually. We didn't make it that far, but she did distinctly mention a next time."
Theodore Nott's guffaw filled the Three Broomsticks and the older patrons glowered accordingly. He snatched Harry's glass and took a healthy swallow before he slapped the man's back in congratulations. He nearly mussed Harry's hair but decided against it in the end. There was no need to make a bad situation worse.
"Wonderful. Tell me all about it on the walk up to Hogwarts. You're here, might as well work."
Harry nodded, albeit unsteadily and lurched to his feet. He tossed a handful of coins onto the counter and stuffed the firewhiskey bottle under his arm. He enjoyed the fuzzy feeling that invaded his senses. It had been entirely too long since he simply let go.
"Ron and Malfoy go for drinks, did you know that?" Harry kept his eyes on his feet and watched in fascination as they moved one in front of the other.
"Longbottom and I go for drinks, what of it, Potter?"
"It's weird, isn't it weird? He's Malfoy and and-and they're going for drinks and stopping by the Manor and he's having secret fucking conversations with Narcissa Malfoy and I don't know what the fuck is going on," Harry growled.
Theo decided it was best to remain silent in these sorts of situations. He was inherently Slytherin by nature and it would never do to show his hand. He was more than aware of the fact his mate's mother was scheming behind the scenes. It was in her nature.
He had seen Narcissa Malfoy's narrowed blue eyes and pursed lips. He recognised her calculating glare nearly as well as his own. Theo recalled the mentions of a bite mark and Veela Tendencies, whatever the fuck that meant, but he was patient. It would all be stripped bare in the end.
"Ron says he still loves her, but he can't mean like that, can he?" Harry stumbled into Theo's side and hiccupped loudly. "They broke up and now he's going on about how much h-he loves her and wants to build a life and family and all that rot."
"Potter, I'm not the least bit interested in Weasley's love life. You shouldn't be either. What the fuck do you care if he sets his sights on Granger again? You've a wife, a horrible, irritating, soul ravaging wife, but a wife nonetheless. From the sound of it, you've also a side bint. I think you've plenty to worry about and none of it has fuckall to do with Weasley," Theo shoved the bumbling bloke a bit and curled his lip at Potter's lack of manners.
"Luna says I'm not even in love with Hermione—"
"I bloody well said that Potter!" Theo snarled and restrained the jinx on the tip of his tongue.
"Yeah, I know, but Luna said I loved what Hermione symbolized—"
"I said that as well!" Theo squinted and imagined Harry exploding into pieces. "Sure, believe the loony bint that chatters about Nargles, not the bloke—"
"Nott," Harry jerked to a stop and waved his hands erratically. "This isn't about you. You're very self-centred!"
Theodore Nott gaped at Harry and literally saw red. He knew Hermione would never forgive him if he blasted Harry Potter to bits but fuck he was tempted. He reasoned that not even Voldemort had been able to banish the irritating wanker of a Gryffindor. Theo casually wondered what would happen if he cast the Killing Curse on the bloke, but then Potter picked that moment to continue his drunken rambles.
"H-how many divorces does the Wizengamot have on record?" Harry asked as they finally trudged up the steps that led to the Entrance of Hogwarts.
"What's a divorce?" Theo asked with a wince as his voice echoed in the nearly empty castle.
"It's a Dissolution of Marriage, Theo. You're late," Hermione Granger tapped her foot with such a sour look on her face it reminded him of McGonagall.
Harry blinked his bloodshot bleary eyes and grimaced. He didn't particularly enjoy being around Hermione when he was intoxicated. She had a tendency to shriek at him and no one found that enjoyable.
"I'm assuming you've gotten permission then?" Theo teased. "Based on the intense furrow of your brow and that swotty little glimmer in your eye, I also suspect you're onto something as well."
"Yes, well if you hadn't taken hours to get your arse up here, you'd already be in the know, wouldn't you?" Hermione huffed and tossed her head.
"I think—" Harry began, "yeah, I think I'd like to visit Gryffindor Tower."
"I think you're completely pissed and looking to take a kip," Hermione snarled. "I haven't got all day, Nott."
She turned on her toes and set up the nearest staircase. Ordinarily, Theo would have allowed his eyes to graze her backside in appreciation, but he knew better. In fact, before he had even completed the thought, Hermione glared over her shoulder. With a groan laced sigh, Theo pushed Harry toward the stairs and set after her.
The sinfully quiet library was nearly as he remembered it. Madam Pince still managed to sniff with disdain. It still had that musty sort of lingering scent that clung to your robes. However, it seemed Hermione had pushed a few tables together and covered them with books, parchment, quills, and inkpots.
"I've spoken with Headmistress McGonagall. She's allowed us unrestricted use of the Restricted Section, but only for today," Hermione immediately set to task. "Fortunately, I kept my collection of journals. I've pulled the books I used to create the original Hex and have compiled all the information on that roll of parchment there," Hermione pointed.
"Why am I here?" Harry asked as he slumped into a nearby chair.
"I'm impressed Granger," Theo commented. "This is a nice bit of Dark Magic. I didn't know you had it in you."
Theo perused her immaculate notes and rubbed the crease between his eyes. He wondered why he was forced to accompany her to Hogwarts when she hadn't a need for his assistance at all. He set to task regardless and plucked an insidious looking book from the pile with his fingertips.
"I used to wank in that corner over there," Harry laughed.
"Granger," Theo breathed.
"Yes, I heard Harry's declaration and chose to ignore it, thank you," Hermione pursed her lips in obvious displeasure as her quill flew across the parchment.
"Ya, it was great, really great. It was a bit messy and there was that time I got caught, but definitely worth the look on Cho's face," Harry sighed dreamily.
"Potter, put your cock away. Granger, you need to see this," Theo slammed the heavy book onto the table and Hermione jumped in alarm.
There was something in his eyes that had her nodding. She'd never seen Theodore Nott afraid. She'd seen him apathetic, aloof, pompous, sarcastic, and irritated, but never had she seen him fearful. His brown eyes had darkened to near black. Hermione watched him press his fingertips against the smooth wood and knew something was wrong.
"Why?" Harry sputtered. "It's my cock!" Harry stood and undulated his hips suggestively, "If I want to wave it about in the middle of the fucking library, well, the old battle-axe isn't here so—"
"Mr Potter!"
Headmistress Minerva McGonagall strode into the Hogwarts Library with fire in her blue eyes and anger splashed across her withered face. Her robes rustled as she walked and it pleased her to see Harry Potter stuff his cock back into his trousers. Even after all these years, she still incited fear into her former students, just the way she liked it.
"Oh fuck."
Hermione gasped and quickly gathered her books into a presentable pile. She had always detested a slovenly workspace and to have her former Professor see her at her worst would never do. She ignored the way Harry grunted and struggled with his zip and hoped Theo could manage to hold his tongue.
"Headmistress McGonagall, we weren't expecting you," Hermione nervously chattered.
"Ms Granger," McGonagall sniffed, "that much was obvious by Mr Potter's juvenile behaviours. It seems his habits have remained the same," she shuddered. "I knew I should have had Severus Obliviate me when he offered."
"Potter said Chang caught him," Theo chuckled.
"Potter is delusional," Minerva smirked. "From the set of Mr Nott's brow, it looks as though he's discovered something rather important."
Hermione's head whipped toward Theo and her eyes settled on the firm set of his thin lips. McGonagall's arrival had distracted her for a few moments, but it didn't take long for her mind to clear. She hesitantly reached for the book and refused to shiver away from the darkness she could feel emanating from it.
"No! You can't!" Theo gripped the book with white knuckles and scurried away from her.
"He's quite right, Ms Granger. It would be best if you didn't touch it," Minerva scowled at the offending tome. "There are many books hidden away in the Restricted Section of Hogwarts that were decreed illegal by the Wizengamot. Eradication in Modern Magical Times is sadly one of those books and considering your Muggle-born heritage, if you value your life, do not touch it."
"W-what did you find?"
Hermione struggled with the limitations as it was evidenced by the twitch of her fingers. Her fingernails dug into her palms until she felt the sting of blood mingled with sweat. Despite the changes in the Wizarding World, it drove her to the brink of madness to know there was still so much she didn't know. There were still so many darkened corners that were dangerous to those exactly like her and Hermione knew it most likely wouldn't change in her lifetime.
"There's an entire section on spell alterations. It's the strangest thing I've ever seen," Theo murmured with confusion. "It's quite similar to Transfiguration, but with spells. I didn't know such a thing was possible."
Harry tapped quite the annoying tune on the edge of a mahogany desk and ignored the gasps and whispers around him. He didn't care what sort of whatever had been created. It wasn't his job to care. It was his job to capture the bastards and send them straight to Azkaban.
He cared about a lot of things, really. He'd cared about ending the Dark Lord and locking up the remaining Death Eaters. He'd cared about Ginny Weasley, but look where that got him. Harry was tired of caring about everything all the time. It was bloody exhausting. What he really wanted was a nice kip.
Harry climbed into a lumpy old armchair near the window and pressed his forehead against the cool glass. He'd always liked the feel of ice against his skin. It soothed the heat of confusion that constantly ran through his veins. It was in those silent moments that he missed Ginny the most, though he'd never admit it.
"Ah yes," Headmistress McGonagall shuddered in distaste. "I'd often heard of such practices, but I was never one to indulge in the Dark Arts."
"What does it do?" Hermione inquired.
She had her quill at the ready and her intensity laced with her magic caused her hair to burst from its coif. She shoved her lightly frizzed curls behind her ears in irritation tinged with habit. She was furious and it had nothing to do with Harry or even Draco Malfoy. She was angry with herself.
Hermione regretted the creation of the hex. She regretted allowing her anger to get the best of her. She regretted teaching it to the other members of Dumbledore's Army, but she also didn't like to dwell on her regrets. It would do nothing to solve the issue at hand.
"It allows the caster to alter the spell in question. From the looks of it, this particular incantation can allow the spell to be imbued into a Potion. There's another that can then turn it into some sort of gas I think," Theo winced as he touched the page and felt the Dark Magic lash out at him.
"Be careful, Mr Nott," Minerva snapped while she read over his shoulder. "You are absolutely correct. Take Ms Granger's creation for example. One would need to brew a simple Healing Potion, recite the incantation from that deplorable tome, and point their wand directly into the Potion. The moment the wand touches the Potion is when the caster would recite the spell they wished to alter."
"Once the Potion cools," Theo interjected, "it is immediately bottled and requires to rest for seventy-two hours. Once the cork is removed, the mist is released and affects everyone in the vicinity."
"Mist Maker!" Harry Potter shouted before he dissolved into ridiculous giggles.
"Minister Shacklebolt needs to be informed immediately. Give me the book. I shall send it to the Ministry with a detailed owl. I expect the Unspeakables will take over the bulk of the research and I'm sure they'll wish to speak to you, Ms Granger," Minerva's lips pressed together in a firm line of disappointment. "Please remove Mr Potter from Hogwarts' grounds immediately. I bid you good day."
Theo and Hermione observed the Headmistress sweep from the library and released their held breaths. In silence, they gathered their research materials and set the books to return to their shelves. Hermione ignored Harry and Theo knew it would fall to him to get the drunken lout back to the village of Hogsmeade.
"I'll see to Potter," Theo rolled his eyes. "You best set after McGonagall. I know you've got questions and I wager they haven't fuckall to do with this case."
Hermione nodded her thanks and ignored his unasked question. He wasn't wrong. She did have questions, yet they revolved around a personal nature rather than the case at hand. She was nervous, but she couldn't overlook the opportunity to speak to her mentor.
"Headmistress?" Hermione called down the corridor and moved swiftly. She felt hope flutter in her chest when the older witch paused. Hermione tentatively stepped forward after she cast a furtive glance over her shoulder. "What do you know about…Veela Tendencies?"
Minerva sighed and shook her head sadly as she turned. In an uncustomary show of affection, she smoothed her wrinkled hand over Hermione's boisterous curls. She gently shoved the caramel strands off Hermione's neck and studied the stark white mark embedded in her former student's throat.
"Mr Malfoy's work I presume," McGonagall sniffed. "It was only a matter of time."
"Matter of time? What do you mean? It isn't real, is it? I can't find anything and I've only Narcissa Malfoy's word on the matter and please, it can't be true."
Minerva's crystal blue eyes narrowed with contemplation. She studied the quiet desperation and the girl's precarious hold on her control. She wished she had the antidote to Hermione's upset, but it wasn't something that could be fixed.
"You poor girl. You never had a chance."