The Headmaster's Only Mistake

Quidditch

I'm putting in some of your oc's

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Mortem placed Harry on his bed and tucked him in, giving him a soft kiss on the forehead before stepping back into the shadows.

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'You're a possessive git, you bloody bastard.' Harry muttered angrily through their bond the next morning. He had woken up and gone to the bathroom, only to find his neck covered in large purple and red bruises trailing from his jawline and bellow his ears down to his chest and nipples.

'Really? What makes you say that?' Mortem responded.

'You know perfectly well what.' Harry snapped back.

'Hmm, last I heard, possessiveness turned you on.'

Harry sputtered angrily at that, blushing red. 'I- Well- You- It- Well yes bu-'

'Then what is the problem?' Mortem asked again, feigning ignorance.

'The ghosts, Mortem, the ghosts! You're lucky that my glamours can hide them from the living, but I don't think I can stand another meal with the Bloody Baron smirking at me and the Gray Lady acting flustered every time she floats by. And don't get me started on the Fat Friar and Nearly Headless Nick, they wouldn't stop gossiping about it! And if I run across a house elf? Or anything without a human consciousness?' Harry groaned, referring to a night a few weeks ago when Mortem had come and visited him.

Mortem's hearty laugh resonated in Harry's head.

'Don't laugh!' Harry huffed, which only made Mort laugh louder. 'I hate you.'

'Of course you do.'

Harry glared at the mirror in front of him, pretending it was Mortem looking back at him. In the end, he ended up huffing annoyedly at his reflection before putting on his button up shirt, leaving the first two buttons undone, as always, his chain with the griffin pendant showing. He had already put on his trousers but his robe and tie lay folded on top of his trunk. He didn't need to wear them, considering it was both Saturday and he would be needing to change into his quidditch uniform in a few hours.

Harry stepped out of the bathroom, dodging Blaise who was groggily rubbing his eyes. His quidditch robes were already in the changing rooms as well. He picked up a muggle poetry book he had been reading and stepped out into the common room. He tried to ignore the stinging pain in his ass that made itself known with every step and winced, thinking about how uncomfortable sitting on his nimbus would be. He knew that the simple healing and numbing spells he would place before the match would help, but the pain of having Mortem's cock up his ass was very much like the hickeys on his neck. They were something that couldn't be removed and had to be waited out.

Stupid gods and their stupid magic and their stupid everything.

He found his favorite armchair and sat down, humming slightly at the heat from the fireplace. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a groups of second years a few feet away. One of them, Harry recognized from the quidditch team.

Harry smiled kindly at Viperia Serpia (A/N: @SParnzaza i'm using your oc), who had looked his way. The girl nodded back at him, but Harry wasn't really sure whether it was just returning the greeting or if it was just her natural face. She always seemed to have the same mischievous smirk and amused purple eyes, that it was difficult to see her actual mood. The only time Harry remembered seeing her face change was when she was around her snake, but even then, it was hard to see her face, as it was shadowed by long black hair.