Iam Screwed Chapter 1
Harry Potter stood in the dimly lit girls' bathroom, the flickering candlelight casting shadows across the cracked mirror. His shirt lay discarded on the floor, revealing the bruises and scars that marred his pale skin, each a testament to the cruelty of the Dursleys. He traced a finger over the marks, his eyes filled with a mixture of sadness and longing. The mirror reflected not just his physical form but also the turmoil within.
"Why couldn't I have been born different?" Harry whispered to his reflection; his voice barely audible over the dripping tap. The thought had haunted him for years, a secret wish that he dared not share with anyone. He imagined what it would be like to be a woman, to escape the expectations and burdens that came with his identity. In this private sanctuary, he allowed himself the freedom to explore these thoughts, even if only for a moment.
His gaze shifted to the small tube of eyeliner he had borrowed from a fellow Gryffindor, a simple tool that offered a glimpse into a different world. With hesitant hands, Harry applied it to his eyes, the dark lines enhancing the vivid green of his irises. The act was both liberating and terrifying, a step towards self-discovery that felt both right and wrong.
Lost in his thoughts, Harry didn't hear the soft footsteps approaching until it was too late. The door creaked open, and Daphne Greengrass, a Slytherin known for her sharp tongue and even sharper wit, stepped inside. Her eyes widened in surprise as she took in the scene before her, a slow smirk spreading across her lips.
"Well, well, what do we have here?" Daphne drawled, her voice dripping with amusement. "The famous Harry Potter, playing dress-up in the girls' bathroom. What would your adoring fans say?"
Harry's heart raced, panic rising in his chest. He fumbled for his shirt, desperate to cover himself, but Daphne's mocking laughter stopped him in his tracks. "Relax, Potter," she said, leaning against the sink with a casual air. "I'm not going to tell anyone. Not yet, at least."
"What do you want?" Harry asked, his voice trembling with fear and humiliation. He knew he was at her mercy, and the knowledge made him feel small and powerless.
Daphne's eyes gleamed with a predatory light. "Oh, I think you know what I want," she replied, her tone silky and dangerous. "You see, I have a bit of a problem, and you, dear Potter, are going to help me solve it. Or else..."
The unspoken threat hung in the air between them, a reminder of the precarious position Harry found himself in. Alone and isolated, with his friends having turned their backs on him after the Triwizard Tournament debacle, he had no one to turn to for help. Daphne's offer was a lifeline wrapped in chains, and he had little choice but to accept.
Harry's voice trembled as he faced Daphne, desperation evident in his eyes. "Daphne, this deal... it's just about doing things for you, right? It's not financial, physical, sexual, political, or social blackmail, is it? I know you might laugh, but I'm serious. If it's any of those, please just be honest with me."
Daphne paused, her expression unreadable as she considered his words. For a moment, a flicker of something darker crossed her eyes, a thought that seemed to amuse and intrigue her. The idea of having Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, under her control in such intimate ways was tantalizing. She could see the fear and vulnerability in him, and it stirred something possessive within her.
Slowly, a smile spread across her face, one that was both predatory and satisfied. "Oh, Harry," she said softly, her voice dripping with a false sweetness. "I hadn't considered those options, but now that you mention it... there are so many possibilities."
Harry's heart sank, tears welling up in his eyes as he realized the precarious position he was in. He had hoped for honesty, for a straightforward deal that would spare him further humiliation. Instead, he found himself at the mercy of someone who saw him as a plaything, a pawn in her games.
Daphne watched him with a mixture of amusement and curiosity, her mind racing with the potential of their new arrangement. She had always enjoyed having power over others, and Harry's reaction only fuelled her desire to see how far she could push him.
As Harry's tears began to fall, Daphne's smile widened, the sight of his distress only adding to her satisfaction. She had him right where she wanted him, and the possibilities were endless.
Daphne's eyes gleamed with a predatory light as she circled Harry, her presence both intimidating and inescapable. She seemed to Savor the power she held over him, the way his vulnerability was laid bare before her. Her smirk was possessive, a silent confirmation of the thoughts that had crossed her mind.
"So, it's sexual and physical blackmail, is that right?" Harry's voice was barely a whisper, the words trembling as they left his lips. He felt exposed, trapped in a situation he couldn't control, and dread pooled in his stomach.
Daphne paused, her gaze locking onto his with an intensity that made Harry's skin crawl. "Yes, Harry," she replied, her voice smooth and unyielding. "That's exactly what it is. You've given me so many interesting ideas."
Harry sobbed, the sound echoing in the empty bathroom. He felt like prey, cornered by a predator who was toying with him, relishing in his fear. Daphne's presence was overwhelming, and he couldn't see a way out of the web she was weaving around him.
She continued to circle him, her movements slow and deliberate, as if savouring every moment of his distress. Harry's heart pounded in his chest, each beat a reminder of how powerless he felt. The weight of his isolation pressed down on him, the absence of friends and allies leaving him defenseless against Daphne's machinations.
"I'm begging you, Daphne," Harry stammered, his voice barely above a whisper as he curled into himself, shaking with fear. "What are your demands? Please don't tell me we are going to actually have sex or anything like that. You wouldn't go that far, would you?"
Daphne's smile widened, revealing a chilling delight in his distress. She stepped closer, her eyes glinting with malice as she leaned in, her breath warm against his cheek. "Oh, Harry," she purred, "I think we both know how far I'm willing to go. But let's not get ahead of ourselves. For now, let me lay out my demands."
As she spoke, she pulled out a piece of parchment, her voice smooth and calculated. "Here's what I expect from you, Harry. Fifteen little tasks that will ensure you remember who holds the power here." She began to list them, each one more daunting than the last:
1. You will do my homework for the rest of the semester.
2. You will attend all my Slytherin parties and act as my personal bodyguard.
3. You will write me love notes and leave them where I can find them.
4. You will wear whatever I tell you to in public.
5. You will keep my secrets, no matter how scandalous.
6. You will help me sabotage anyone I choose who crosses me.
7. You will give me your wand whenever I ask for it.
8. You will accompany me to Hogsmeade and buy me whatever I want.
9. You will never speak of this arrangement to anyone.
10. You will allow me to take pictures of you in compromising situations.
11. You will be my loyal servant in front of the other students.
12. You will let me decide your outfits for the Yule Ball.
13. You will help me with my Potions assignments, no matter how late it is.
14. You will keep an eye on any Gryffindors I dislike and report back to me.
15. You will promise to be mine, in every sense of the word, for as long as I desire.
Harry shook in fear, the weight of the demands crashing down on him like a tidal wave. Each task felt like a chain binding him tighter to Daphne's will, and he could feel his resolve crumbling. He curled further into himself, tears streaming down his face as he realized the extent of his predicament.
Daphne leaned closer, her smile cruel and triumphant. She licked the tears from his cheeks, savouring the taste of his despair. "Now, Harry, tell me... how do you feel about my demands?"
Harry's voice trembled as he asked, "Will me being transgender and a virgin affect how this list is made?" He dreaded the answer, hoping for some semblance of mercy from Daphne.
Daphne's smile turned wicked, her eyes dancing with a twisted delight. "Oh, Harry," she cooed, stepping closer and inhaling deeply as if savouring his scent. "Your identity only makes this all the more intriguing. The Gryffindor golden boy, so pure and untainted, all mine to play with. It's going to be such fun."
She produced another piece of parchment, her voice dripping with malice as she read out her new list of demands, each one designed to exploit Harry's vulnerabilities and bind him to her will:
1. You will dress as I dictate, embracing your true identity in ways that amuse me.
2. You will attend Slytherin gatherings as my companion, showcasing your transformation.
3. You will share your deepest secrets with me, including your fears and desires.
4. You will allow me to dictate who you can and cannot associate with.
5. You will submit to my whims, regardless of how intimate or personal they may be.
6. You will let me take photographs of you in various states of dress and undress.
7. You will accompany me to the Yule Ball as my date, dressed to my specifications.
8. You will perform tasks for me that test your comfort and boundaries.
9. You will write me letters detailing your thoughts and feelings about your identity.
10. You will promise to remain a virgin until I decide otherwise.
11. You will follow my instructions on how to express your gender identity publicly.
12. You will allow me to introduce you to my friends as my personal project.
13. You will swear loyalty to me above all others, forsaking your previous alliances.
Harry's heart sank as he listened to the demands, each one more invasive and controlling than the last. He felt trapped, his identity and autonomy slipping away under Daphne's grasp. Her words echoed in his mind, a constant reminder of the power she held over him.
Daphne watched him with a satisfied smirk, her eyes glinting with triumph. "Now, Harry," she said softly, "how do you feel about being mine?"
Harry's voice quivered with desperation as he asked, "I won't have to share a bed or live in those special forms for couples, will I? We aren't a couple, are we? I sure hope not."
Daphne's eyes sparkled with a malicious delight, her grin widening at his words. "Oh, Harry," she purred, "you've just given me the most delightful idea." She leaned in closer, her voice dripping with possessiveness. "Why not make it official? You, my submissive little girlfriend, and I, your loving partner."
Harry's heart sank as she pulled out yet another list, her voice filled with a cruel satisfaction as she outlined her new demands:
1. You will share my bed whenever I desire, embracing your role as my partner.
2. You will dress in attire I select, reflecting your identity as my girlfriend.
3. You will attend all social events as my date, displaying our relationship publicly.
4. You will submit to my whims, both in private and in front of others.
5. You will allow me to dictate your daily routine, including your wardrobe and appearance.
6. You will let me take intimate photographs of you, capturing our relationship.
7. You will write love letters to me, detailing your feelings as my partner.
8. You will promise fidelity, remaining loyal to me above all others.
9. You will follow my instructions on how to express your gender identity within our relationship.
10. You will accompany me on trips outside of Hogwarts, acting as my devoted partner.
11. You will allow me to introduce you to others as my submissive girlfriend.
12. You will participate in couple activities, showcasing our bond to the world.
13. You will fulfill my desires, regardless of how they challenge your boundaries.
14. You will swear to uphold our relationship, forsaking previous connections.
15. You will embrace your role as my partner, accepting my guidance and control.
Harry sobbed, the weight of the demands crushing him. Each one felt like a chain, binding him tighter to Daphne's will, erasing his autonomy and identity. Her words echoed in his mind, a constant reminder of her power over him.
Daphne watched him with a satisfied smirk, her eyes gleaming with triumph. "Now, Harry," she said softly, "how do you feel about being mine?"
Daphne's eyes gleamed with a possessive light as she considered Harry's question. "Oh, Harry," she replied, her voice dripping with satisfaction, "I've decided that we will indeed have our own couples' dorm. You'll live with me full-time, sharing my bed every night. It's your new life, as my devoted partner."
Harry's heart sank at her words, the reality of his situation crashing down on him. The thought of being bound to Daphne in such an intimate and controlling way filled him with dread. He felt trapped, his autonomy slipping away under her grasp.
Daphne watched his reaction with a smug smile, clearly relishing the power she held over him. "It's going to be wonderful, Harry," she continued, her voice sweet and mocking. "You'll see."
Harry's voice was filled with resignation as he asked, "Umm, I don't have any choice in this, do I? And can I at least have lunch and dinner at the Gryffindor table, please? You must meet me halfway here."
Daphne's eyes narrowed, her possessiveness flaring at the suggestion. "Oh, Harry," she said, her voice soft yet firm, "you'll eat with me at the Slytherin table. You're mine now, and I want everyone to see it. There will be no halfway."
Harry sighed heavily, the weight of her words pressing down on him. He felt the last remnants of his independence slipping away, leaving him at the mercy of Daphne's whims.
Harry's voice carried a hint of defiance as he pleaded, "Umm, can I eat Muggle food and drink Muggle drinks and wear Muggle clothing, please, Daphne? They are so comfortable, and I have mountains of Muggle food to eat. I'm not giving up spaghetti and pizza, or Coke a Cola, no way, Daphne. And I love wearing my sweatpants and eating spaghetti while watching Judge Judy. So, are we clear? I will keep my Muggle lifestyle at least most of the time, okay?"
Daphne's eyes flashed with possessiveness, her lips curling into a smirk. "Oh, Harry," she said with a condescending tone, "you'll find that your new life with me will require some adjustments. While you may indulge in your Muggle comforts occasionally, remember that you belong to me now. I'll decide when and how you can enjoy these things."
Harry's heart sank further, the last vestiges of his autonomy slipping away under her control. He realized that even the simple pleasures of his Muggle life were now subject to Daphne's whims.
Harry's voice was filled with desperation and fear as he asked, "Will you at least treat me with respect? I'm a Gryffindor, Daphne, and you're a Slytherin. Will you please not allow your fellow Slytherins to disrespect, belittle, or humiliate me? And, God forbid, not allow them to physically or sexually harm me, like one of them raping me or gang raping me. I know I might sound graphic, but I know there are some Slytherins among you in our year who will take the Dark Mark and become Death Eaters soon, and many of them are children of Death Eaters. So, Daphne, will you at least promise I won't be Crucioed daily and not end up a sex slave or, God forbid, end up as sport or in the hands of Voldemort? Will you at least keep the other Slytherins in line, please?"
Daphne's eyes narrowed, a possessive glint in her gaze. She stepped closer, her presence both commanding and unsettling. "Oh, Harry," she purred, her voice deceptively sweet, "you are mine, and I do not share what is mine. You will be under my protection, and no one will dare harm you without facing my wrath."
Her words were both a promise and a warning, a reminder of the power she wielded within her house. While her assurance offered some relief, it also underscored the control she held over him, a control that was both suffocating and inescapable.
Harry's voice was filled with resignation as he said, "Alright, Daphne, I submit, as long as I'm only yours and you don't hand me out to others. I'm still a human being. Umm, also, Daphne, I forgot to mention this, but I'm good friends with Astoria, and we occasionally meet for tea and crumpets. I'm telling you this now because I don't want you to find out later and hurt me for not telling you. Can I still remain friends with Astoria, please? She's so cute, and I wouldn't dare harm her. She and I have been friends for a few months, and I adore her. Please, Daphne, can I still be friends with her and see her for tea occasionally?"
Daphne's eyes flashed with possessiveness, her lips curling into a tight smile. "Oh, Harry," she said, her voice low and firm. "Astoria is my sister, and while I appreciate your honesty, understand this: your interactions with her will be under my watchful eye. You may see her, but only when I permit it. Remember, you are mine, and I will not tolerate any secrets."
Her words were a stark reminder of the control she exerted over him, a control that extended even to his friendships. While she allowed him some leeway, it was clear that her permission came with strings attached, binding him ever tighter to her will.
Astoria appeared suddenly, her presence like a breath of fresh air in the oppressive atmosphere of the bathroom. Her eyes flashed with determination as she approached, her voice clear and unwavering. "I heard everything, Daphne," she declared, moving quickly to Harry's side and wrapping him in a protective hug. "Harry and I are friends, and he will see me. He is not your slave. If you want him as a girlfriend, fine, but just know I will step in if you try to hurt him."
Harry felt a surge of relief as Astoria's words washed over him, her support a balm to his frayed nerves. He glanced at Daphne, a triumphant grin spreading across his face, emboldened by Astoria's defiance.
Daphne's eyes narrowed, her possessiveness flaring at the challenge. She crossed her arms, her expression a mix of irritation and calculation. "Astoria," she said, her voice laced with warning, "I appreciate your concern, but remember, Harry is mine now. I will decide what is best for him."
Astoria held Harry tighter, unfazed by Daphne's words. "You may be my sister, Daphne, but I won't let you bully him. Harry deserves better."
The tension in the room was palpable, a silent battle of wills between the two sisters, with Harry caught in the middle. Yet, for the first time, he felt a glimmer of hope, knowing he wasn't entirely alone.
Harry hugged Astoria back tightly, feeling a warmth spread through him as he whispered, "Thank you, Tori." Turning to Daphne, he adopted a condescending tone, wagging his finger at her playfully. "Now, now, dear, your sister has a point. You wouldn't want to be a shrew, would you? The one who is a poopy head?" He mimicked Dumbledore's mannerisms, hoping to lighten the tension.
Astoria giggled, making faces at Daphne, her laughter a bright contrast to the heavy atmosphere. But Daphne's expression darkened, her possessiveness flaring as she glared at Harry and Astoria. "You think this is a game?" she snapped, her voice low and dangerous. "You both are playing with fire, and you have no idea how quickly I can turn up the heat."
The playful moment faded, replaced by a tense silence as Daphne's possessiveness hung in the air, a reminder of the power she wielded over both Harry and Astoria.
Astoria sensed the tension thickening in the air and stepped forward, her voice steady and firm. "Daphne, please," she said, her gaze unwavering. "Harry is my friend, and I won't let you treat him like a possession. We can all coexist without this hostility. You don't need to resort to threats to prove your point."
Daphne's eyes narrowed, but Astoria continued, her tone softening. "I know you care for him in your own way, but pushing him away won't help anyone. Let's find a way to make this work without the animosity. We can be friends, all of us."
Harry felt a flicker of hope at Astoria's words, her support bolstering his courage. He glanced at Daphne, searching for any sign of understanding. The room was charged with tension, but Astoria's intervention had created a small opening for dialogue.
Daphne's expression shifted slightly, the possessiveness in her demeanour wavering as she considered Astoria's plea. "Fine," she said finally, her voice still laced with authority. "But understand this, Harry—you're still mine. I won't tolerate anyone disrespecting that, including you, Astoria."
Astoria smiled, relief flooding her features. "That's all I ask, Daphne. Just let us be friends, and we can all get along."