Iam so screwed chapter 3
As Daphne continued to press her advantage, Harry felt the fatigue weighing heavily on him, but he refused to back down. He focused on her movements, watching for any openings. Just when he thought he might falter, a surge of determination coursed through him.
In a split second, he feigned to the left, making it seem like he was about to dodge another punch. Daphne, anticipating his move, committed to a powerful swing aimed at his head. But Harry had a different plan. Instead of retreating, he stepped forward, pivoting on his heel, and threw a right hook that caught her off guard.
The punch landed squarely on Daphne's jaw, the impact reverberating through the courtyard. She stumbled back, shock etched across her face as she blinked in disbelief. Harry felt a rush of adrenaline and confidence surge through him, the momentum shifting in his Favor.
"See? I told you I'm not done yet!" he exclaimed, his voice filled with newfound energy. The girls around them gasped, their expressions a mix of surprise and excitement.
Daphne quickly regained her footing, but the surprise of the hit had left her momentarily rattled. "You got lucky, Potter!" she spat, but the edge in her voice was tinged with uncertainty. "That won't happen again!"
Harry took a deep breath, feeling the tide of the fight turn in his Favor. He could see the flicker of doubt in Daphne's eyes, and it fuelled his resolve. "Maybe it's time you realized that I'm not just some pathetic boy you can push around."
With renewed Vigor, Harry advanced, throwing a series of quick jabs that kept Daphne on the defensive. She was still a skilled fighter, but the confidence he had regained allowed him to anticipate her moves better, dodging her punches and landing a few more solid hits.
Pansy watched with a mix of disbelief and irritation, her earlier bravado wavering. "What's happening, Daphne? You're losing to him!" she shouted, her voice laced with frustration.
Tracey and Hestia exchanged glances, clearly taken aback by Harry's sudden resurgence. Flora, however, seemed to relish the chaos, her eyes gleaming with excitement. "Come on, Harry! Show her what you've got!"
Daphne, now visibly frustrated, shook her head as if to clear it. "You think you can keep this up, Potter? This is just a fluke!" she shouted, but Harry could sense the cracks in her confidence.
As he continued to press the attack, Harry felt the thrill of the fight coursing through him. He was determined to prove that he was more than just the Boy Who Lived; he was a fighter, and he wouldn't let anyone take that away from him.
Harry seized the moment, adrenaline coursing through him as he lunged forward, tackling Daphne to the ground. The impact knocked the wind out of both of them, and they found themselves wrestling in the dirt, grappling for control.
For the next five minutes, they rolled and struggled, each trying to gain the upper hand. Harry felt the heat of the moment fuelling him, pushing him to fight harder. He managed to maneuverer himself on top for a brief moment, but Daphne quickly countered, using her strength and agility to flip him over.
As they wrestled, the crowd of girls watched with bated breath, the tension in the air thickening. Harry could hear their whispers, a mixture of shock and excitement. He fought to push Daphne off him, but she was surprisingly strong, using her weight to pin him down.
Finally, after a fierce struggle, Daphne managed to gain the upper hand, straddling him and pinning his arms above his head. Harry squirmed beneath her, frustration boiling inside him as he realized he was trapped.
Daphne looked down at him, a smirk spreading across her face as she caught her breath. "Well, well, Potter," she said, her voice dripping with triumph. "Looks like I win."
Before Harry could respond, she leaned down, her lips brushing against his in a sudden, unexpected kiss. It was against his will, and he felt a wave of shock wash over him as his mind raced. He struggled beneath her, trying to push her away, but her grip was firm.
The laughter and gasps from the crowd faded into the background as Harry's thoughts spiralled. He couldn't believe what was happening. This was not how he had imagined this confrontation would end.
Daphne pulled back slightly, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "What's the matter, Harry? Not enjoying the victory lap?" she teased, clearly revelling in the moment.
Harry felt a mix of anger and humiliation. "Get off me, Daphne!" he shouted, struggling against her hold. "This isn't a game!"
But Daphne only laughed, her expression triumphant. "Oh, but it is, Potter. And you're just another pawn in it."
The crowd around them erupted in mixed reactions—some were cheering, others were shocked, but all eyes were on the two of them, the tension reaching a boiling point. Harry knew he had to find a way to regain control of the situation, to reclaim his dignity in front of everyone.
Harry lay pinned beneath Daphne, the weight of his defeat pressing down on him as heavily as her body. He felt the sting of humiliation and the cold grip of resignation. "You've won fair and square, Daphne," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "I won't resist. What do you want from me?"
Pansy, her eyes gleaming with triumph, stepped closer to Daphne and leaned in to whisper something in her ear. Harry watched as Daphne's expression shifted, her smirk widening into something more sinister. She glanced down at him, her eyes glinting with a newfound understanding.
"You were the one to beat him, Daphne," Pansy said, her voice filled with malicious delight. "You get to decide what to do with him."
Daphne's smirk deepened as she leaned down, her lips brushing against Harry's ear. "Do you remember that night in the bathroom, Harry? The night I found you? I know what you were doing. I know about your... attempt."
Harry's heart sank, a cold chill spreading through him as he realized what she was referring to. The memory of that night, the desperation and the darkness, flooded back to him. He had tried to end it all, to escape the pain, but Daphne had found him and stopped him. He felt exposed, vulnerable in a way he hadn't anticipated.
"And because I saved you," Daphne continued, her voice a whisper filled with cruel satisfaction, "you owe me a life debt. You know what that means, don't you, Harry? You are bound to me now."
Harry's mind raced, the weight of her words settling over him like a suffocating shroud. A life debt was a powerful magical bond, one that could dictate the course of his actions. He felt trapped, cornered by the very person who had saved him.
"So, what do I want from you?" Daphne mused, her voice dripping with mockery. "I want you to remember that you are mine to command. You will do as I say, when I say it. And if you ever think of defying me, remember that you owe me your life."
Pansy watched with a satisfied smile, her eyes gleaming with triumph. "Looks like the Boy Who Lived is now the Boy Who's Bound," she taunted, her voice filled with glee.
Harry felt a mix of anger, humiliation, and despair. He had thought he could stand up to them, but now he was more trapped than ever. He had to find a way to navigate this new reality, to reclaim his power despite the life debt that bound him.
Harry's heart pounded in his chest as Daphne leaned down, her lips brushing against his ear. "You're mine now, Harry," she whispered, her voice filled with a chilling certainty. "With the life debt, I can do anything. I can even marry you against your will. And I think I might just do that. Consider it punishment for your little defiance earlier. You're my bitch, Harry, and now everyone will know it."
Before Harry could react, Daphne pulled out her wand. With a swift, precise motion, she invoked the ancient magic of the life debt, binding him to her in a way that felt like chains tightening around his very soul. He felt a surge of magic, a force beyond his control, wrapping around him and solidifying the bond.
"You are now my husband, Harry," Daphne declared, her voice triumphant. "And just to let you know, there is no divorce in the magical world. So you are my husband forever."
She stood up, still straddling him, and turned to face the other girls. "Instead of making him say sorry, I've done something better," she announced, her voice filled with satisfaction. "Harry Potter is now my husband, bound to me by the life debt. He's mine, and there's nothing he can do about it."
Pansy's eyes widened with a mix of shock and delight. "You actually did it?" she asked, a wicked smile spreading across her face. "That's brilliant, Daphne. Absolutely brilliant."
Tracey, Hestia, and Flora exchanged glances, their expressions a mix of surprise and amusement. "Well, I didn't see that coming," Tracey said, shaking her head. "But I guess it's fitting. The Boy Who Lived, now the Boy Who's Bound."
Harry lay there, stunned and overwhelmed by the weight of what had just happened. He felt a mix of anger, humiliation, and despair. He had thought he could stand up to them, but now he was more trapped than ever, bound by a magical contract that he couldn't break.
Daphne looked down at him, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "You will do as I say, Harry. You belong to me now. And if you ever think of defying me, remember that you are bound by the life debt. You're mine, and there's no escaping it."
As the reality of his situation sank in, Harry knew he had to find a way to navigate this new reality. He couldn't let them see how much this affected him, but he also had to find a way to reclaim his power despite the life debt that bound him.
Harry lay on the ground, feeling the weight of the situation pressing down on him. He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. "Daphne, can you please get off me? And can you please not kiss me again?" His voice was soft, almost pleading. "Also, can I please go to the hospital wing? My head really hurts, and I'm really tired. Please, Daphne, I will do whatever you say tomorrow. Just let me go see the nurse."
Daphne looked down at him, her expression softening slightly as she considered his request. She could see the genuine pain and exhaustion in his eyes, and for a moment, her triumphant smirk faded. She stood up, stepping back to give him some space.
"Alright, Harry," she said, her voice less harsh than before. "You can go to the hospital wing. But remember, you belong to me now. Don't think you can escape your obligations."
Pansy and the others watched with a mix of curiosity and amusement, their earlier excitement giving way to a more subdued interest. "Let him go, Daphne," Pansy said, her voice still holding a hint of mockery. "We've had our fun for tonight."
Daphne nodded, her eyes still locked on Harry. "Fine. Go see the nurse. But tomorrow, you'll do exactly as I say. No excuses."
Harry slowly got to his feet, feeling a wave of dizziness wash over him. He nodded, grateful for the reprieve. "Thank you," he said softly, his voice filled with relief. "I'll be back tomorrow."
As he turned to leave, the girls parted to let him pass, their eyes following him as he made his way towards the hospital wing. The weight of their gazes felt like a heavy shroud, but he pushed through, determined to find some solace and relief.
The walk to the hospital wing felt like a marathon, each step a struggle against the pain and exhaustion. When he finally arrived, Madam Pomfrey looked up from her desk, her eyes widening in concern as she saw his condition.
"Mr. Potter, what happened to you?" she asked, rushing over to help him to a bed.
Harry shook his head, too tired to explain. "Just... a rough night," he managed to say, his voice barely above a whisper. "I need some rest."
Madam Pomfrey nodded, her expression filled with concern as she began to tend to his injuries. "You're safe here, Harry. Just rest now."
As he lay back on the bed, the events of the night replayed in his mind, the weight of the life debt and his new reality pressing down on him. He knew he had to find a way to navigate this new situation, to reclaim his power despite the bonds that now held him.
As Harry settled into the hospital bed, the soothing sounds of Madam Pomfrey bustling about began to fade into the background. Suddenly, a voice echoed in his mind, smooth and laced with a chilling certainty. It was Daphne, her tone dripping with confidence. *"With the life debt, our souls are bonded, Harry. I can communicate with you like this and read your mind. I know exactly where you are, because I can track your soul."*
Harry's heart raced, a mix of fear and disbelief flooding through him. He couldn't help but respond with sarcasm. "Oh, can you teleport to my location as well?" he thought, trying to mask the rising panic with humour.
To his astonishment, Daphne's voice filled his mind again, this time accompanied by a sudden flash of light as she materialized in the hospital wing beside his bed. "Yes, Potter, I can," she said, her smirk evident even as she spoke telepathically. "And it doesn't matter the distance. Even if we were both on opposite sides of the globe, I could still reach you. No ward or spell could protect you either. There is no escape."
Harry's breath caught in his throat as he processed her words. The implications of their bond sent a shiver down his spine. "You're serious?" he thought, his heart pounding. "You can track me anywhere?"
Daphne nodded, her expression a mix of triumph and amusement. "Absolutely. You're mine now, Harry. You're bound to me in ways you can't even begin to comprehend. I can feel your emotions, your thoughts. And if you ever think of running away, I'll know."
The weight of her words settled heavily on his chest. He felt trapped, cornered by a bond he hadn't asked for and couldn't escape. "This is insane," he thought, anger bubbling beneath the surface. "You can't just do this to me!"
Daphne leaned closer, her voice a whisper in his mind. "Oh, but I can. And I will. You're going to learn what it means to be bound to me, Harry. You're going to do exactly as I say, and there's nothing you can do about it."
Harry clenched his fists, frustration coursing through him. "You think this is a game? You're just a bully hiding behind magic."
Daphne smiled, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "And you're just a pawn in my game, Potter. But don't worry. I'll make sure you enjoy your new life."
As she stepped back, Harry felt the weight of her presence lingering, a reminder of the bond that now tied them together. He knew he had to find a way to navigate this new reality, to reclaim his sense of self despite the chains that bound him.
Harry's mind raced as he grappled with the implications of the life debt and the bond that now tied him to Daphne. He looked her in the eye, a mix of defiance and curiosity swirling within him. "Can you read my memories as well?" he asked, his voice steady despite the turmoil inside.
Daphne shook her head, a smirk playing on her lips. "Why bother, Potter? When I could just use the bond to force you to tell me whatever I want to know. It's much easier that way."
Harry felt a flicker of anger at her nonchalant dismissal, but he pushed it aside. "So, will you be calling me your wife now, Daphne? Since you beat me in a fight and I now have no legal rights, does that mean you're the man in the relationship? You've proven your physical strength over me, and you also kissed me against my will. Does that mean, Daphne, you want me to make a sandwich for you like a good housewife should? Or would you prefer I cook for you while you're the breadwinner? I'm curious, Daphne. Am I your housewife now?"
Daphne's expression shifted, a mixture of amusement and irritation crossing her face. "You think this is funny, Potter? You think you can just turn my victory into a joke? This isn't about gender roles or housewives; this is about power."
Harry shrugged, trying to maintain his composure. "Maybe it's about power, but you're the one who's acting like a bully. If you think you can just dictate my life because of this bond, you're mistaken."
Daphne stepped closer, her eyes narrowing. "You're missing the point. I can dictate your life, and you'll have to accept it. But if you want to play games, fine. Just remember that I have the upper hand now."
"Right," Harry replied, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "So, what's next? Do I have to wear an apron and wait on you hand and foot?"
Daphne laughed, a sound that was both mocking and triumphant. "You can do whatever you want, as long as you remember who holds the power here. I won't force you into anything you don't want to do, but you'll find that life is much easier when you cooperate."
As the reality of his situation settled in, Harry felt a mix of anger and helplessness. He knew he had to find a way to navigate this new dynamic, to reclaim his sense of self despite the chains that bound him.
Harry clenched his fists, his mind a whirl of anger and frustration. "I'm not apologizing, Daphne. Pansy and your group are a bunch of—" He cut himself off, thinking instead, *a bunch of cunts who bully and manipulate everyone.* But out loud, he said, "Pansy, your group are just bullies who got lucky. So can I please go to sleep now, or have you come to gloat as well? I really need to recover so people don't ask awkward questions about why I'm in the hospital wing."
Daphne's eyes flashed with a mix of irritation and amusement as she heard his unspoken thoughts. She stepped closer, her voice low and filled with a mocking edge. "You think we're a bunch of cunts who bully and manipulate everyone, do you, Harry? Well, you're not entirely wrong. But you should be more careful with your thoughts. Remember, I can hear them."
Harry's heart skipped a beat, his anger flaring. "So you're just going to keep torturing me, is that it? You've already won. What more do you want?"
Daphne smirked, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "What I want is for you to understand your place, Harry. You're mine now, and you'll do as I say. But for now, I'll grant you your rest. You'll need your strength for what's to come."
She turned to leave, but not before casting a glance at Pansy and the others. "Let him rest. We've had our fun for tonight. But remember, Harry, this is just the beginning."
Pansy's smirk widened, her eyes filled with malicious glee. "Sweet dreams, Potter. We'll see you soon."
As they left the hospital wing, Harry felt a mix of anger and despair. He lay back on the bed, his mind racing with thoughts of escape and defiance. He knew he had to find a way to break free from their grip, but for now, he needed to gather his strength.
Madam Pomfrey returned, her expression filled with concern. "Try to get some rest, Harry. You need to recover."
Harry nodded, closing his eyes and letting the exhaustion wash over him. As he drifted into a fitful sleep, his mind churned with plans and possibilities. He couldn't let them win. He had to find a way to reclaim his power, to break the chains that bound him.
As Harry lay in the hospital bed, his thoughts spiralled, wrestling with the implications of his unexpected bond with Daphne. *Daphne went to the library that time and came up to me asking about that book I was reading. She said, 'Not everything is as it seems.' What did she mean by that? Is there more to this marriage business than what she leans on? Was she actually trying to be nice that day, or was she just spying on me for Pansy?*
He continued to ponder, *Why marry me? Is it the Boy Who Lived crap, or is it her just being a narcissist? I mean, I did find her hot one time in the past, but her horrid attitude and her being Pansy's sycophant? Yeah, fuck that. And now I'm married to that? Great, here I come, muggle hell.*
As he wrestled with these thoughts, he felt a sudden presence in his mind, and Daphne's voice echoed softly. *You're thinking too much, Harry. You're overcomplicating things. The marriage isn't just about power; it's about connection. You're bound to me now, and whether you like it or not, you'll have to navigate this new reality.*
Harry's heart raced, a mix of anger and confusion flooding him. *Connection? Is that what you call it? You're the one who forced this on me!*
Daphne's voice was calm, almost soothing. *You could see it as a gift, Harry. A chance to explore what this bond means. Or you could continue to fight it, but that would only make things harder for you.*
He felt a surge of frustration. *You think I want any of this? You think I wanted to be married to you?*
Daphne's response was immediate, her tone firm. *You're not just the Boy Who Lived, Harry. You're a part of something bigger now. I'm not just some sycophant; I have my own ambitions. And you? You're an integral part of that.*
Harry's mind raced, trying to process everything. *So this is about your ambitions? What do you want from me?*
What I want is for you to understand your place in this world* she replied, her voice unwavering. *You may think you're trapped, but you have more power than you realize. Embrace it, and you might find that this isn't as bad as you think.*
As Harry lay there, he felt the weight of her words settle over him. He had a choice to make—either fight against the current or find a way to navigate the turbulent waters ahead. But the thought of being tied to Daphne, the girl who had been both a source of attraction and frustration, filled him with uncertainty.
You'll see, Harry. This can be beneficial for both of us* Daphne added, her tone lightening slightly. *You might just find that you enjoy it.*
Harry closed his eyes, feeling the exhaustion wash over him. He had to find a way to reclaim his autonomy, to break free from the chains that bound him, but for now, he needed to rest and gather his strength.
As Harry lay in bed, he took a deep breath and spoke aloud, his voice firm. "Let me make myself clear, Daphne. I won't be Pansy's bitch. Goodnight." He turned over, closing his eyes and trying to find some semblance of peace.
The next morning, Harry woke up feeling a mix of exhaustion and determination. His mind wandered as he thought about various things to distract himself from the reality of his situation. He thought about Wollongong and the train from Sydney to there. His thoughts then drifted to TFM's political views, considering ideas like taking women's rights away, destroying the welfare state, and shooting the rioters who resist. He mulled over the concept of a net taxpayer voting system, thinking, *I disagree with taking their voting rights away, but having a net taxpayer voting system would mean most of the mindless retards on welfare couldn't vote anyway. Yeah, a net taxpayer voting system with a monarchy as head of state is cool.*
As he pondered these thoughts, he felt Daphne's presence in his mind once again. Her voice echoed softly, filled with a mix of curiosity and amusement. *Interesting thoughts, Harry. You have quite the imagination.*
Harry's heart skipped a beat, realizing she had been listening to his thoughts. *Are you seriously going to comment on everything I think?* he thought back, frustration bubbling beneath the surface.
Daphne's voice was calm, almost teasing. *Not everything, but some of your thoughts are quite... entertaining. You have a unique perspective on things, Harry.*
Great. Glad I can entertain you* he thought sarcastically. *But seriously, do you have to invade my thoughts like this?*
It's not about invasion, Harry. It's about understanding. We're connected now, whether you like it or not. And understanding each other is part of that bond* she replied, her tone softening slightly.
Harry sighed, feeling the weight of her words. *Fine. But that doesn't mean I have to like it.*
Daphne's voice was gentle, almost reassuring. *You don't have to like it, but you'll have to accept it. And who knows? You might find that this connection can be beneficial for both of us.*
Harry felt a mix of frustration and resignation. He knew he had to find a way to navigate this new reality, to reclaim his sense of self despite the bond that tied him to Daphne. But for now, he needed to gather his strength and figure out his next move.
A few days passed, and Harry found himself reluctantly performing light tasks for Daphne and her group, like carrying books and helping with homework. He felt the weight of his new reality pressing down on him, a constant reminder of the bond that tied him to Daphne. As he went about these tasks, his mind churned with frustration. *This is fucking ridiculous. She can read my fucking mind, but I'm not allowed to read hers? It's like that meme about respecting your sister's privacy, but she can just barge into your room whenever she wants. Fuck that shit. I guess I'm cucked now. I'll never recommend telling a guy to get married. Fuck this shit.*
He glanced over at Daphne, who seemed content with her little victory over him, not being overtly cruel—yet. It was as if she was simply enjoying the power she held, satisfied with having him under her thumb. *I need a can of coke* he thought, hoping for a momentary escape from the situation.
Daphne's voice echoed softly in his mind, a mix of amusement and understanding. *You're quite the thinker, Harry. Always so dramatic. But you're right—I am happy with my victory. And as long as you keep cooperating, things will stay this way.*
Harry sighed, feeling the weight of her presence in his mind. He knew he had to find a way to navigate this new reality, to reclaim his sense of self despite the chains that bound him. But for now, he had to endure, to bide his time and gather his strength for whatever lay ahead.
And so, the days continued, with Harry performing his tasks, his mind always racing with thoughts of escape and defiance. He knew he had to find a way to break free, to reclaim his power and autonomy in a world that seemed determined to bind him.
Harry Potter stood in the dimly lit corridor outside the Slytherin common room, his heart pounding in his chest. He could hear the laughter and chatter of the Slytherin students inside, a stark contrast to the turmoil raging within him. The life debt to Daphne Greengrass felt like an iron shackle around his soul, tightening with every step he took. He knew he had to face her, but the thought of another encounter with Daphne and her gang filled him with dread.
Taking a deep breath, Harry pushed open the heavy door and stepped inside. The room fell silent as all eyes turned to him. Pansy Parkinson's cruel smile was the first thing he saw, her cold blue eyes gleaming with sadistic delight. Daphne sat in an armchair by the fire, her piercing grey eyes locking onto Harry with a predatory intensity.
"Ah, Harry," Daphne said, her voice smooth and commanding. "So good of you to join us."
Harry clenched his fists, trying to steady himself. "What do you want, Daphne?"
Daphne's smile widened. "Straight to the point, as always. I admire that about you, Harry. But tonight, I have something special planned."
Pansy snickered, and Tracey Davis leaned in, her eyes sparkling with anticipation. Hestia and Flora Carrow stood nearby, their expressions mirroring Pansy's glee.
Daphne rose from her chair and approached Harry, her movements graceful and deliberate. "You see, Harry, I've been thinking about our little arrangement. I believe it's time to... expand it."
Harry's stomach churned. "What do you mean?"
Daphne reached out and gently touched his cheek, her fingers cold against his skin. "I want you to prove your loyalty to me. Publicly."
Harry recoiled, his mind racing. "What do you expect me to do?"
Daphne's smile turned sinister. "You will kneel before me and swear your allegiance. Right here, in front of everyone."
The room erupted in whispers and giggles, the Slytherins eagerly awaiting Harry's humiliation. Harry's heart pounded in his ears, his mind screaming for a way out. But the life debt bound him, leaving him with no choice.
As he looked around the room, his eyes met Daphne's, and he saw the unyielding resolve in her gaze. He knew he had to act, but how?