Harry Potter's F*cked Life

Harry cracked her eyes open and slowly became aware of the 'thump, thump' in her ears. She wanted to curl against the noise but it also begged questions; she pushed herself up and gaped openly as the nights events played before her eyes. Snape was no longer at his desk, having left them alone...

She felt the strange need to rock against Draco, test if she could get him hard again or if the night before had been a fluke, but instead stumbled to her feet. Wondering just what in the fuck was wrong with her that she'd wanted to do such a thing. The blonde jerked and she recalled cumming on the Malfoy, and that he'd cum on her, too vividly for comfort. Mercifully he remained asleep and she bolted out of the office door, if Snape really wanted to punish her he was going to have to find her. 

It was a Saturday. Hogsmeade weekend.

Everyone else would be wandering the small cluster of shops, meanwhile she planned to catch up on homework in the far corner of the library. The horrible toad woman had assigned a monsterous amount of homework along with the normal amount of coursework in her other subjects. Besides Ron and Hermione had planned a date and Harry didn't fancy invading their activities, Hermione would likely turn it into some sort of DA meeting if she did.

And Dumbledore never summoned her the night before a Quidditch match so as long as she could avoid her Potions Professor and Malfoy it was going to be a good day.

--

Harry was already frazzled, this year had thrown her curve-balls...  now she felt nearly possessed.

As soon as she'd risen to the bait Harry had known it was a mistake that she was going to regret but she genuinely didn't know how to handle her interactions with Malfoy. It was the first time she'd seen him since... the memory was mortifying for how fucking good it was and she'd flushed horribly. His smirk had changed to a leering one and she'd snapped a bit. It wasn't a look she was used to seeing on his face.

It had turned into a brawl between the Gryffindor and Slytherin teams with Harry and the twins at the center - or that is what Umbridge declared when she gave the three of them 'lifelong' bans. That had caused some instant regret. Especially as the twins had thrown themselves in to keep Harry, a shitty physical fighter, from being beaten bloody by the Slytherin's as they'd surged forward after she landed the hit.

When she looked up and saw Dumbledore quickly approaching that had made her feel nothing but instant regret. She couldn't do anything but stand rooted to the spot as her stomach dropped more and more with each step he took - it felt like her stomach should mining for something sixty feet below ground when he stopped. "Starting fights on school grounds? I must say I am disappointed in you, Harry." he sighed, announcing as he turned to walk away, "Detention tonight with me. We can refresh your memory of what is expected of you."

Bile rose up her throat after his declaration and, despite her attempts to keep it inside, she puked.

Her whole body shuddering as she emptied her stomach. Her teammates, and the Slytherin's, surrounded her. They offered her comfort. Ron held her hair back as Crabbe and Fred rubbed her back. George had run to get a damp rag to help while Goyle grabbed a large Game Goblet, which replenished anything. Draco, meanwhile, seemed to be glaring after the Headmaster though she couldn't imagine why. He'd just allowed his greatest adversary to be benched for life.

She knew her punishment was going to be worse than when she'd gotten detention her first time in Umbridge's class. As she walked into the locker room, Harry realized to her horror that she no longer had the excuse Quidditch offered to avoid the Headmaster. Harry had just freed up more time.

Gryffindor Common Room was already in full swing by the time she'd dragged herself up from the showers after moping for a bit. Ron was being carried around on shoulders and everyone was yelling, a drink and a spliff were immediately shoved into her hands as they all cheered in greeting. Harry mindlessly drank what she'd been given and smoked, she'd nothing better to do before having

to go for her 'detention'. The third cup was much stronger than the first two had been, heavy hands were in charge of pouring it seemed - likely Lee. Colin tapped her on the shoulder as she was halfway through it and pointed at the clock, they all knew she had detention to report for and she hastily chugged what was in the cup and set the cup down by the portrait hole. 

To get there on time she had to jog, calling out the password to the gargoyle and only skidding to a hault after she'd opened the door. It shut behind her as she stared wide-eyed at what she'd rushed in on.

Vernon was still there.

Or had come back.

She bit back her questions as she shivered, her clothes falling to a pile at her feet - seemingly cut to ribbons this time.

They were quickly answered. The two men surrounded her, their hands miming what the twins had done in an awful echo of a couple nights ago.

How did Dumbledore always know?

How did he know everything?

She died a little more inside as she realized just how much he knew, both knew - not just that she had been doing something with someone but what she'd been doing, the specifics. And that Dumbledore had likely known the whole time.

They did things differently than the twins. 

Neither of them ever kissed her, never had, on the mouth - their kisses and sucking on her skin was scratchy and uncomfortable. Her hands hung limply at her sides, though they balled into fists as Vernon forced her head forward - gripping the back of her neck - to watch Dumbledore between her legs. She shook her head as best she could, squeezing her eyes shut. They flew back open with a yelp after the wizard had slapped her mound unforgivably.

Harry cried as he pried apart her folds with both of his hands, holding her open, and pushed his open mouth to her. His tongue flicked and lapped at her while Vernon's other hand squeezed her breasts, as if experimenting - constantly grazing her nipples and their studs almost curiously. She had hoped they would disgust the two and, even if they didn't leave her alone entirely, they'd have less interest in her.

It had not worked.
If anything her new appearance had caused Dumbledore to pay more attention to her and include Vernon at school, which he'd never done before.

There was nowhere to hide from either of them.

With a heaving sob she came, her traitorous body succumbing to them.

Without a word, Dumbledore stood and began his usual slapping while Vernon held her in place. 

Harry accepted it, welcomed it, ashamed of herself again. 

He stopped when Harry's face was a bright red and felt swollen, waved his hand and her clothes fixed themselves back over her body. Another flick and she felt the tingle of a concealment charm, her face still stinging like a thousand angry bees, before he'd said the only word that had been uttered the whole awful time, "Dismissed."

She hit the wall just outside the door to the office in her mad scramble to get away.

They knew everything.

There was no escape.

Nowhere to hide.

At least she knew what she'd done this time. It didn't stop her sobs, however.

--

Harry shifted with her hands behind her back, her eyes still wet, one night when she'd reported for her tutoring. He'd heard that Harry had detention alongside the Weasley twins with Umbridge, she'd come straight from it. It was no secret that Harry had pissed off the Ministry offiical and had served many detentions with her already. Severus was somewhat surprised, having expected her to be delayed as she had been previously with the twins. 

This time, however, they'd only kissed her temples, sadly; murmuring sweetness before she'd set off to her tutoring. As much as they hated it, Harry felt ashamed - refusing to show her right hand to them. They let it go; afraid of pushing her and equally unwilling to take away themselves as a place that she felt safe as they'd been for near two years now. Neither had confessed to anyone but eachother that Harry was like an addiction - couldn't tell anyone, do anything for it, couldn't resist. Yet... they did not care, they would never decline her summons - just as she never rejected theirs.

There had been no offer from them or her this time, just simple reassurance that they didn't blame her - she'd been too close to tears to answer but the Twins had understood as she looked at them with wide apologetic eyes.

Severus's eyes narrowed as she entered, her left hand was easily viewable with the words 'I must not tell lies' but they were not open and bleeding. Or wrapped flimsily. 

It was her right hand, bound in a small bloody white scrap that had to be pulled too tight to wrap around her hand. Likely a 'just short' hex had been put on the scraps of cloth to add to her victims discomfort - Umbridge was truly a toad of a woman. The whole Ministry was filled with toads just like her, too.

After it fell from her hand for the third time, he summoned her over to his desk and motioned with his hand for hers. She'd hesitated, only for a couple seconds, before almost thrusting her fisted hand toward him - the bloodied barely-an-excuse-for-a-scrap-of-cloth tightly pulled to the back of her hand by her clenched fingers. With an annoyed looking raising of an eyebrow, he shook her fist lightly as he grasped it. 

Her fingers fell open.

The action was more disheartening than Severus had thought it could ever be - likely because it was Harry and he knew more than he should. He missed the defiant girl from first year who'd snapped about asking her housemate, they hadn't be friends then, who clearly knew - Hermione's arm to the heavens. The girl who hadn't flinched when a stranger descended upon her, quizzed her and continued to glare. Though she'd giggled in subsequent years when he rapt her and Ron on the head during various studies, it was always the two of them together - murmuring and chuckling

back and forth.

Snape mentally shook himself as he grabbed the linen to pull it back, she whispered, "I wish you'd found us." Her eyes were lined with fresh tears that he chose to ignore and pulled it away.
'WhOrE,' written in jagged, unsure and uneven letters - she'd been forced to write with her non-dominant hand. He felt his eyes bulge, wondering what the twins had been given to write with their non-dominant hands - it was unlikely that 'mischief maker' was deemed appropriate by the heinous pink bitch. 

'Consanguineous narcissus', while clever was somewhat inaccurate, he thought when he found out later. Umbridge had found the twins messing around with another partner, not eachother. And ridiculously long for writing with one's 'dumb' hand, their scars less severe than Harry's single five-letter word. The horrible woman had likely wanted Harry to be labelled as such for life.

The twins was already inappropriate, but having a teenager carve the word 'whore' into their skin - doubtlessly lashing the teen with the word during the encounter - was wholly abhorrent. Male or female, they were a fucking student. It was abhorrent.

There was nothing he could do for the bleeding, to heal the cuts or the pain; he summoned a proper bandage that wrapped around her hand and didn't easily fall away.

She'd sniffled and thanked him, refusing to meet his gaze the rest of the night as she returned to her work.

She wasn't a whore - she wanted to feel loved, safe, protected. Even if she didn't fully understand what she felt inside, he did - he may have cast legimens on her a couple times when she had a dreamy look on her face. It was always of a happy family, without care or concern, laughing - a happily ever after.

Severus couldn't help thinking that if wanting such was the definition of a whore then he was a whore, too. 

And that Umbridge would pay, dearly. 

If his Lord gave him permission, he felt he should include the Marauder's... they could be horribly vicious. Though, in the context of Umbridge, it would be glorious justice.

The next morning Harry wore a finger-less glove that she must have Transfigured from something - Severus was rather impressed with how nice it looked. A sleek white cloth, he couldn't make out the seams. Very nice.