Title: Bluer than Indigo

Chapter: He who is corrupt.

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It started ever so slowly. I've been cracking under this pressure since the infuriating headmaster told me that even more infuriating prophecy. How can I, a mere sixteen year old, defeat a wizard nearly 3 times my age? I don't think that it has anything to do with power at all. It has, however, everything to do with experience and knowledge. He has more than I can ever have. No matter how much I train, I can never learn enough to be considered his equal. Even if I somehow managed to absorb every single memory in his mind, I still would lack the experience. I have absolutely no power in this situation and I hate that feeling of weakness. I loathe it with every bit of my being. I have when I was at the Dursley home and I do now here, as well.

I've been walking down the corridors of Hogwarts slowly since the end of the feast, trying vainly to gather some sense of strength, of courage, of anything really. I'm not too particular at this point. I just want this feeling of weakness to get out of my head… out of my heart. I can place that brave mask on like I do every time I am in the presence of the Dursleys but in the end it is just that, a mask. And I hate it. I hate it more than Snape or Lestrange. I hate it more than Hate itself. But it consumes me, mocks me, laughs and frolics freely while I am trapped in this cage.

No more, damn it!

I want out!

I want to be the one in control. But even as I want, I know I can never have. Never truly, anyway. There will always be someone stronger, someone with more power. But here and now, I swear, no matter what, I won't let anyone walk on me again. If they push, I'll push back harder. If they hit, I'll hit back with twice the force. No matter what it takes, they will know I am stronger than them, whether it is true or not.

“What are you doing out of your dorm after curfew, Potter?”

I turn around to look behind me slowly. Marietta Edgecombe looks at me with trepidation. She quivers ever so slightly in the cool night air, whether from fear or something else I do not know. But, to think she is afraid of me is enough to sate my power hungry mind. I close my eyes to drink in all of that feeling. It runs through my blood, filling me with a sweet sensation. It is a natural high. But I still want more.

“I could ask you the same, Marietta. You aren't a prefect.” Oh what to do to you to place you in my power. I look at her appraisingly. She is … attractive I suppose. She has a heart shaped face and reddish blonde hair. She is the kind of person you would expect to be near Cho. Beauty surrounded by beauty, even if one was lesser than the other.

She blushes as I look at her, and I wonder if she might have some sort of attraction to me. And my source of power comes to me. I smile kindly at her. “Hey Marietta…”

“What?”

“I… well … Just, look… I'm sorry about the whole sneak thing.” I look down, feigning embarrassment as she looks down in true shame. “Hermione said it was just supposed to last a week or so. But this seems permanent.” I shrug at her. “If you want to meet me tomorrow somewhere, I'll see if I can find some way to remove it for you.”

She looks at me suspiciously for a moment. “Why?” I blink and stare at her in confusion for a moment. “Why help me, I mean. I did turn you in to Umbridge, after all.”

“It was because of your parents, right?” She nods and I give her a half shrug. “I can understand that, I suppose. I'd have done the same in your shoes.” I smile at her again and she blushes, just a little. Maybe she does, I think with a smirk. “I'm really not that bad of a person when you stop and take everything into mind.”

“Alright, where do you want me to meet you?”

Where could you possibly go to be hidden in a castle like this? “.. Seventh floor,” I tell her slowly. “Meet me outside the Room of Requirement at midnight tomorrow.” She nods and without another word, turns and goes off to … wherever she is going. This will be fun, if I play it right.

------

I leave the door to the Room of Requirement open when I get there that evening, just waiting on Edgecombe. It is a nice setup, I feel. Soft coloured carpet lined the floor, while chairs and couches of matching color welcome all who arrive. It is warm and inviting, just as I want it to be. It is all coloured white. It isn't the antiseptic white of hospitals that everyone hates on principle alone, but a soft white that holds the barest hints of blue.

“'Ello?” Marietta sticks her head into the room at five minutes after.

I smile up at the door, “Come on in. Close the door behind you; I'm not sure how long this will take.” She nods as she slides the door closed and moves into the room. I sip a cup of tea one of the house elves brought me. A second cup, with a warming charm, sits on a table in front of me, which I point out to her as she sits on the couch at my side.

“So, tell me about yourself.” I say as I turn to look at her.

“Why?” She asks slightly confused.

A shrug, “I know so little about you. It'd be nice to get to know some other people for a change. I was hoping that maybe we could be friends.”

“Well… I'm a seventh year Ravenclaw at the moment.” I snort and murmur something about being obvious. Marietta glares halfheartedly at me. I suddenly have a desire to slap it off of her face. “Mum works at the Ministry, in the Floo Network Office.”

“Really? What does she do?”

“Not a lot, really. Mainly she just gives permits to set up the Floo in a home or office.”

We continue such small talk for almost an hour. I realize she has a very boring, very sheltered life. Her mother is one of those people who don't let their children out because of some mysterious danger only they see. She is convinced that even with the fall of the dark lord, death eaters will swoop out of nowhere and kill her only daughter. Her father had been killed by death eaters just before she was born.

I sit a mirror down in front of her as I attempt various charms I know won't work on the large purple blemish. She continues talking about everything and nothing all at once. Women take in so many more details than men, it seems. I remember the same event she is currently talking about, the World Cup during my fourth year, but not with anywhere near the level of detail she is going into. Though, it could be less of a woman thing and more of a Marietta thing.

With a grunt of success the ugly blemish slowly fades into just an angry red mark, “Finished!” She hurriedly grabs the mirror to look at it. Her fingers gently trace the angry red mark. “It should fade in a day or so,” I tell her knowing it won't. “It's a side effect of having been on so long I expect.” She nods slowly. “I'll personally take it up with Hermione if it doesn't.”

“Thank you so much!” She says as she stands, I following her up.

As she turned to leave, I stop her with my voice. “You aren't going to leave without a proper thank you, are you?”

“What do you mean?” She asks, very confused now, as she turns back to me. “I said thank you. I…”

“Now Marietta, you know that's not what I'm talking about. Thank you seems so… clinical. There is nothing behind it! Just stupid words no one ever means. I want something more … realistic.”

“Like what?” Her innocent voice is intoxicating to the beast I feel within me.

“You really must have led a very sheltered life if you don't know.” I tell her placing my hand on a bit of her exposed thigh. She quivers a bit as I rub my hand softly up and down, edging closer to her secrets. “I want you. I want to enjoy you. I want to feel you, to taste you, to experience everything you are.”

“Bu…but… No!” She stammers but doesn't pull away.

“Didn't mummy ever teach you manners?” I ask sweetly.

“No… Please… I don't want…” she shudders against me as I drag my nails softly across her leg.

“You know you want it. I can feel you shuddering you know.” My voice caresses her ear as I lean in and softly lick it. She jumps but still doesn't pull away.

“No, I don't…”

My hand slides onto her panties and I press a finger into her slit. She gasps as I slid my finger along its length. “Like that do you? I can give you so much more, you know. Just ask for it and I'll show you a world of pleasure beyond anything you've ever known.”

Marietta gasps again and shoves me away forcibly. “No!” she shouts, throwing her knee at my sensitive parts. It was only my reflexes that save me from the world of pain.

I snarl at her angrily. “You ungrateful little bitch. I spend my time helping you and this is how you repay me?” She opens her mouth to retort but I cut her off with a quick backhanded slap. She tumbles down onto the couch as she loses her footing and I stand over her.

“Please don't…” She mutters as she stares up fearfully at me. “…Please.”

“If you hadn't been such an ungrateful girl I wouldn't have had to hit you, you know.” I say gently. “It is your own fault.” Roughly, I yank open the front of her blouse, sending buttons flying everywhere. She whimpers as I run my fingers up her stomach to her bra. It's midnight blue, and silk perhaps, I'm not sure. “Do you want me to stop hurting you, Marietta?”

“Yes,” she says nodding furiously, tears in her eyes.

“Do you know what you have to do to stop it?”

“No,” she says softly.

“Exactly what I tell you.” I tell her in a calm, quiet voice. “If you behave yourself enough, you may even get a bit of pleasure out of this as well.” I say sweetly as I run my hand back down her stomach and cup her spot over her dress. She shudders slightly as I massage it through her clothes. “Get up,” I command her as I stop. She stands, and I now notice that her cheek, where I have slapped her is red. “Strip.”

“W...what?”

“I told you to strip. Take off all of your clothes.” She looks down at the floor, arms covering her exposed flesh, and blushes in shame. “Would you like for me to help?”

“…No,” she all but whispers as she slowly lets her robes fall to the floor. Her shirt and skirt follow soon after and she is now standing before me in just knickers and a bra. She looks at me hopefully, hopeful I will be satisfied with this state of undress. I am not. I am not satisfied with anything less than complete obedience.

“Is there a problem, Marietta?” She shakes her head. “Then continue.”

“Please, I'm begging you.” Her pleases are music to me now. I am drunk on this feeling. Consequences or no, I know this is what I will spend my life searching for. This feeling of complete control. Through this, I will live my life to the fullest. “Don't make me do this.”

“I gave you your chance, you know.” My voice is soft and calm, and I think this frightens her more. “All you had to do was lay down and enjoy me, but you couldn't. It's your own fault.” I smile a cold smile at her. “And now you must be punished. And punish you, I shall. Continue, or I shall do it for you”

Slowly Marietta does as I tell her. Her dark blue bra unclasps and slowly falls to her feet. Her breasts are rather nice, I have to admit. Though only average, they are firm and beautiful. When she pulls off her panties, it is a slow antagonizing process. Edgecombe is so ashamed of showing me her body that she takes them off in the slowest of fashions, which only serves to excite me more when they finally come off. Her pubic area is neatly shaved into a V-like shape, which looks rather exotic to me. When she stands straight again, she tries vainly to conceal herself entirely behind her arms once more.

I push her towards the couch from behind softly, and gently tell her, “Sit.” She does, her legs locked together and hands covering her breasts. “Now Marietta dear, don't hide from me. Open your legs.” Marietta shakes her head furiously at me, murmuring denials. I sigh softly to myself as I remove my belt. Folding it in half, I smack her moderately hard in the thigh. It turns red and she gasps loudly. “Next time I will do it harder, Edgecombe.” I tell her softly, calmly. “Do what I tell you. Now open your legs.”

She does so slowly and I am greeted by the sight of her slit, crowned in reddish blonde hair. I can see her trembling as I move closer to her. It increases as I touch her womanhood. She isn't very wet, not that I expected otherwise. “You aren't wet.” I state in a mock hurt tone. “You aren't enjoying out fun?” She doesn't meet my eyes as she blushes a deeper red.

“Touch yourself.” I command. Marietta looks at me as if I've grown a third and fourth head. “You don't want it to hurt when I make you mine, do you?”

“…No,” She whispers fearfully.

“Then fuck yourself. If you want a toy, we ARE in the Room of Requirement. Just wish one up.”

Slowly and unsure of herself, she slides one of her hands off her chest and into her honeyspot. For a minute or more her movements are unsure and hesitant, but she begins to feel the pleasure of it. I can tell, as her hand picks up speed and she becomes more intense. She is moaning more now as her hips slowly begin to thrust onto her palm. Her thumb rubs her clitoris while she digs two fingers into herself. It would seem after two minutes she has forgotten that I am even here.

“That's good,” I purr at her. ”Tweak your nipples. Fondle those nice breasts of yours.”

Marietta looks up at me with hazed eyes, only vaguely recognizing my presence or my commands. She obeys them though, if only to gain more pleasure. She grabs her left nipple slightly rougher than I expected it and pinches it, pulls it, and kneads it. She gasps, moans, and makes a plethora of other noises in pleasure. Feeling bored, I ask the room for what would be considered a standard dildo from the Room. It is featureless and coloured in black.

“Do you want it?” I purr at her, placing it on her entrance. Her only response it to move her hand so that she focuses entirely on her clit, giving me the needed room. I push it in as far as it will go, which earned the feel of something popping. Marietta clinches her eyes closed and moans in pain. I suspect that I might have taken her physical innocence with my toy. Oh well, I sigh mentally. I suppose it makes things easier later on in the evening.

Really, it's an amazing sight to watch. Watching as she massages herself, while taking in a slight above average phallic appendage. She rides both her hand and the toy viciously, stealing every ounce of pleasure she can take. It was erotic. It was ever so beautiful. It was so very intoxicating to watch her shudder with pleasure as her orgasm mercilessly tore through her body and she slumped down ever so slightly.

“Enjoy yourself, did you?” I ask her amused as she lies panting on the couch. I move closer as she blushes and looks away. She flinches slightly as I drag a finger across her slit. “I think you might be ready now, don't you?” She doesn't respond or look at me when I ask her, so I violently tweak one of her hardened nipples. She jumps and screams aloud as I do so, the nipple taking a red tint. “I asked you if you were ready for me, Marietta. Answer me.” I struggle to keep the same calm and cool voice I've used all day with her.

She murmurs something quietly, and I command her to repeat it louder. “…Yes,” is all she says.

“That isn't a very enthusiastic response at all,” I whisper cheerfully into her ear. “You should ask me for it like you want it. Because I know you do,” I tell her as I run a finger along her slit. “Now beg for it.”

“Please,” She chokes out the word. “Please take me.”

“Tsk,” I look down disapprovingly at her. “That doesn't sound sincere at all. I want to hear you say it like you mean it.”

“Please…” Her voice is stronger and has a very convincing tone to it. I can't tell if she really does want it or not now. “Please take me, Harry!”

“Please fuck me, master.” I advise. “Say it, my pretty little slave.”

“Please fuck me master!” She is slow in her reply, but it is in the same tone.

Marietta looks at me with a bit of fright in her eyes as I undo my fly and release myself to the air. It is wonderful to feel the cool air drift across my hot flesh. Marietta grunts in pain as I slide into her warm crevice. It is a very nice feeling, I do admit. It is slightly hypnotic to watch her breasts sway up and down as I pound into her furiously.

“AHH!” She screams out as I take one of her nipples into my mouth and bite it. I suck it and roll it with my tongue. I lavish it with attention while I ravaged her slit senseless. “Yes!” she moans as I place a free hand on her waist, and massage her clit. Not satisfied with the current position, I roughly pull up her legs and rest them on my shoulders. This way I am able to penetrate deeper into her, which is obvious as she lets out a breathy moan.

“Please!” She nearly screams, in a pleading voice. “More! Harder!”

If she gets any louder, we might be caught. I have to fix that somehow. A smirk threatens to split my face as a devilish idea enters my mind after a few moments. I stop completely and stand up, emptying her of me. She groans in disappointment at the loss, but I don't let her dwell on it. “Get up and turn around.” I command her as I pick up her knickers. She stands looking over her shoulder at me as I remove my tie. “Kneel on the couch.”

She does. I slide my member between her legs, and rest it on her stomach when I position myself behind her. Before she can turn around I use one hand to force her mouth open and stuff her panties in with the other. My tie is used to secure the garments are secure inside and properly muffle all sound. I use her own tie to bind her hands behind her back so she can't remove my home made gag. I grab her hair and pull her head back to whisper in her ear. “Loud little tart, you are. Don't want to get us caught do you?” She shakes her head best as she can. “Then try to contain your whorish moans, slut!”

I re-enter her wet hole with a single violent thrust. As I do, Marietta throws her head back and screams into her gag. It isn't perfect but this proves it will work. My pace when I resume isn't as leisurely as it once was. The pleasure quickly builds inside, and Marietta is feeling it as well I suspect from her muffled moans. I lean over her and bite on her shoulder, in a vain attempt to stay the approaching storm within me. Marietta groans deeper as I do, leaning into my mouth. I taste copper as I bite harder when my orgasm hits. The blonde beneath me is moaning wildly, thrusting into me for all she is worth as she too feels the blissful release.

After depositing myself in her welcoming hole, I collapse on next to her panting body. Much to my own surprise I still have a slight erection and desire for more. A thought strikes me, and I remove the gag from her mouth and untie her hands. I run my hand up her spine and into her hair, entangling a mess of it in my closed fist. With my fist full of hair, I force her head into my lap. “Put it in your mouth,” I command as I hold her there. “I want you to get me off with your mouth.”

Marietta doesn't say anything as she struggles with the decision. She gives in eventually, however, and takes me full on into her mouth. She gags and backs off slightly however. She is sloppy at what she does, being a virgin. It's frustrating, coming so close to getting off but your partner lacks the talent to bring about the end. I want to scream in frustration and anger. The stimulation of her hand is enough to bring me off, but her mouth counter acts it all. After five minutes of nothing, I am fed up with her ineptitude. I carefully extract myself from her mouth and roughly shove her off me. This however, has the distinct result of throwing her to the floor.

“Worthless. All you did was cause me more frustration!” I growl. Marietta slinks back fearfully. I stalk up to her, retrieving my wand as I approach. The small room leaves her few places to hide, and she is eventually backed into a wall when I trap her. I grab her leg tightly and kneel down between her legs pointing my wand at her ankle. “Proprietorqueo!.” I say in a hiss.

The spell, The Owner's Brand, is little more than a fancy tattooing spell. It's an exaggeratedly long incantation to make it seem important. It is better than the simple 'macula' of the original Tattoo spell. The mark slowly fades into existence on the desired area, in full color. It is only mildly painful, no more so than getting a muggle tattoo. I expect, however, that even this small amount is excruciating given that it is happening quickly, leaving Edgecombe little time to react or brace. The symbol I envisioned is simple yet unique. It is an eye in the same disturbing shade of green as my own. It is different in that not only does it have a slit pupil, but there is a thin black circle running round the pupil.

“You belong to me now, understand?” I ask softly as I force her to look at me. “If you even think of touching another male without my permission, you will be punished and cause the death of an innocent. Am I clear, Slave?”

She nods fearfully. “Yes, master.” It is difficult for her to say the last word, I can tell.

“Good,” I drawl, standing and fixing my clothes. “I'm also giving you a week to learn to properly give blowjobs. You will be punished if you don't satisfy me next time.” She nods as I twirl and leave her sitting upon the cold, stone floor. Frustration drives me to enter the showers once I've reached my dorms. I finish myself what she couldn't before retiring to bed.

----

Pain hissed through me while this… monster … mutilated my flesh with a single spell. That hideous mark now rests on my ankle for life. And somehow, deep down in the darkest recesses of my mind, it is morbidly pleasing. Somehow, I, plain average Marietta Edgecombe, was chosen by Harry Potter. It wasn't Cho Chang. It wasn't Ginny Weasley. It was me. It was sick. It was disgusting. I hated every second of it. Yet I couldn't help what my body felt. I couldn't stop the orgasm that rippled through me as I massaged myself, his eyes drinking me in. Nor could I stop the second one, the one caused by his violence ripping me apart from the inside. Even now I can feel him running out of me, onto my shaking and pale flesh.

His words caressed my ears as I trembled in front of him. Disgusting, foul things that they were, they infected my mind. Even as I walk into my dorm I remember them. They won't leave me. I can't forget them, no matter how hard I try.

You belong to me.

You.

Belong.

To.

Me.

I am property now. Not human. A slave. Was this why I was born? Did I do something so horrible in a past life that I would be born into one where I would serve another? I shudder at the thought. And even now, I am still a failure at what I do. My parents think so, my friends do, and I do. Now, my… Master… does as well. I can't afford to fail now, it seems. I will be punished for it. And as disgusting as that sounds, as much as I hate the sound of that thought, I can't stop the shivering anticipation I feel. I can't stop thinking. Can't stop fantasizing about how he will do it.

Even after an hour in a hot shower, I still feel him. Still feel filthy. The residue of pleasure still tingles inside me. Why, I want to scream at whatever higher power exists. Why does it feel good? Why do I enjoy it? Why won't it leave me? I hate it! I hate him! But for all of my being, I want it. In the deep blackness of the shadows in my mind, something craves it. And I will be rid of that part of me even if I have to kill myself. I tell myself this as I throw myself on my bed, tears silently traveling all too familiar paths.

Damn you, Harry Potter. What have you done to me?

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Notes:

Thanks to DarkSyaoran for being a great sounding board, and to Silent for being a patient Beta to this idiotic fool of an author. It is people like you that drive me to write this tripe.

Edited: 5-22-06