Fallen For The Hero || Hogwarts Legacy FF

Part 4

Being Imperiud was strange, and it took me far too long to realize what was going on. A blissful haze had muted my thoughts and fogged my eyes, leaving me feeling like I was floating in the stars until I finally began to sense things. Having senses felt strange and unfamiliar, like they were happening on the outside of my skin, rather than inside my brain or around me. As I got my bearings back, and the fog cleared, it was like looking through a pensive of my own eyes. Unable to do anything but watch what was happening. Even as clarity and understanding filtered in, I could do nothing. Feel nothing.

There was a ghost of sensation, but not like touch or actual feeling. Rather, the phantom memory of touch and feeling. Like I was looking through a pensive still, but in seeing, I knew how what I saw felt like. A tingly wisp of not-quite-sensation, as I observed my happenings.

And there was emotion and thought. They were stuck with me. I watched from my own eyes as Victor Rookwood pulled my puppet strings, playing with me like I was some kind of doll. A sex doll, specifically. I felt sickened, full of rage and hatred for this creature in control. I listened to my own voice speak to him. Telling him about my first time as he asked lewd questions about my sex life–or, rather, event, as it were. I was disgusted with him, with the marionette version of myself.

My first time had been with Sebastian, my friend–my very best friend. I'd been full of pent up emotion and I'd needed an outlet that wasn't killing everything I could set my wand against. As I'd known he would be, Sebastian had taken no issue with my request. The only oversight I'd had, in retrospect, was not telling him it was my first time. Rookwood's expression said it all. It wasn't a good experience, and likely wouldn't have been even if I'd done it before, as I'd told Sebastian I had. Of course, it seemed that Rookwood was putting all of that blame on my friend instead of me, as he didn't bother asking why it had been the way it had. Unfortunately, the answer was rather simple. I hadn't wanted the sweet, tender lovemaking that was meant to come with a persons first time having sex. I hadn't wanted to make love. I'd wanted someone to fuck me, to distract me in such a way that wasn't violent but was still consuming. Again, in retrospect, I believe I made several mistakes that day.

First in not telling my friend the truth about my past experiences. But second, in asking Sebastian for help with it. He hadn't been poor at it, I thought, though he'd likely only had a few more experiences than me. Honestly, I should have asked someone who wasn't truly my friend. I'd wanted to escape, and a friend couldn't help with that. Looking back, I thought I ought to have asked a lesser acquaintance, perhaps someone who looked at me positively and owed me a favor–there were lots of people like that, though mostly girls. Everett Clopton, perhaps, or Leander Prewett as he owed me for throwing a few games of summoners court to impress his latest interested female friend. Both boys were quite popular and certainly got around. Either would have been a better choice than my best friend for what I'd needed.

So, I found myself feeling glares at Rookwood and toward myself. Of course I'd hate myself in a time like this. Wasn't that what they all said? But of course, nothing I'd done or not done could have prevented this. This was all him. Rookwood, my enemy–all the evidence was right in front of me that he was my enemy and I had every reason to hate him.

But the longer I watched, the more frequently I forgot. And each time I forced myself to remember that he was evil and my enemy, I found that the thoughts were softened, glossed over. Yes, he's my enemy, but, oh what's happening now?

I realized what was happening. Not in the moment, of course, I could clearly see that. But with my own thoughts. Glossing over important information, focusing a little too hard on the things that he was doing, starting to think that it actually wasn't bad at all, the beginnings of other thoughts...