Chapter 12

When there is a death of one of your classmates, it is always tough and for everyone at school. For Harriet, it was even tougher, especially because she considered the girl a friend. Well, even more than a friend after Paige stuck up for her when Heather was picking on her. When things like this happen, you need time to grieve - time to sort out all those weird feelings.

But Harriet didn't have time for any of these things. There were no school prayers, no moments of silence, no counselor helping her through the grieving process. Poor Harriet couldn't even talk to Lovelle or any of the other girls about it, and it was not for lack of trying.

When Harriet woke up the morning following the murder, the first thing she did was to try to comfort Lovella. She was expecting to find the stricken girl crying and huddled into bed, but what she found was a smiling girl, humming as she put on the final touches for class without a care in the world.

Wide-eyed and staring with disbelief, Harriet said, "Lovelle, are you alright?"

"Sure," Lovelle said, primping her hair in the mirror. "Why wouldn't I be?"

Harriet was dumbfounded and almost couldn't put into words what she wanted to say. "B-because of what happened to Paige last night."

"So? Why should I worry about that? Now I have the room to myself."

"Did those witches do something to you?" Harriet asked incredulously. "Your best friend died and all you are worried about is having the room to yourself."

"Don't be silly. Paige didn't die. She just left."

Harriet grabbed Lovelle by the shoulders, spun her away from the mirror, and shook her, trying to knock the girl's addled wits back into place. "She died damn it!" Harriet gasped as the curse word had its affect on her quim. "S-she died. You held her... her withered corpse in your arms last night."

"Let go of me, you crazy bitch," Lovelle said, taking out her wand and pointing it at Harriet. "Stop saying things like that about Paige. It isn't very nice." Lovelle muttered a spell and before Harriet could react, she found herself on her arse about five feet away from her former friend. Her robe rode up, exposing her tight boy briefs, with her bulge tucked neatly to one side.

"What's that?" asked Lovelle, pointing her wand at Harriet's crotch.

"Nothing," Harriet replied, blushing and quickly pulling her robe back over the bulge in her briefs, but the damage had already been done.

"Here, let me help you up," Lovelle said, extending a hand. She pulled Harriet to her feet and to Harriet's dismay, pulled her close and rubbed a hand possessively over her bottom. "You know, now that Paige has left, I have an empty bed here."

"S-sorry," Harriet said, extricating herself from Lovelle's overly familiar embrace. "L-l-look, I've got to get ready for class."

Harriet hurried back to her room, her mind in turmoil over Lovelle's attitude toward her dead roommate. Against her better judgment; she sat down next to Heather's sleeping form and nudged her until she woke.

"Damn it Hari, you better have a good reason for waking me up this early."

"I'm sorry, but this is important," Harriet said. "Do you remember what happened to Paige last night?"

"Paige? Paige-Paige-Paige-" Heather muttered as if trying to remember the girl's name. "That bitch left, didn't she? And good riddance."

Things were going nowhere fast. Harriet wondered if perhaps all the constant teasing had made her go crazy after all. It didn't help matters at one bit when Heather's hand started moving steadily up Harriet's robe.

Harriet caught her roommate's hand and tried to pull it free. "Heather, this is serious."

Heather pulled back the covers, spreading her legs and exposing the mousy brown hair of her sex. "This is serious too," she said, pushing her hand more forcefully up Harriet's robe. "Come on. You know you want it slut-boy. You can't resist my pussy. Can you, my little boy-whore?"

Every swear word was like a dagger of pleasure in Harriet's sex. Her legs spread of their own volition, and Heather's nimble fingers freed the phallus shaped wand from Harriet's briefs.

There was something Harriet was missing, but she couldn't quite place it and things were becoming more and more muddled by the second. However, just as she moved over top of Heather and felt the girl's legs wrap around her torso, Harriet glanced around the room and knew exactly what had been bothering her.

"One last question," Harriet moaned. "There was stuff on my side of the room when I moved in. I thought it was for me at first, but it belonged to somebody else, didn't it?"

"Nobody else - just me. Come on whore, momma needs love. Let me feel that cock."

"Think hard," Harriet urged. "You don't remember anyone say... sitting at my desk and doing homework."

"I am thinking hard. I'm thinking of your hard cock. Give it to me. Fuck me you little boy-bitch."

Harriet was helpless to stop herself. Every swear word only served to increase the horribly aching need inside her and though her mind knew she wouldn't orgasm, her body refused to acknowledge the fact. Her hips thrust, plowing the cock shaped wand inside her roommate, fucking her.

"Oh God, I feel you stretching my pussy," Heather moaned. "Do you like it whore? Do you like my pussy?"

Harriet looked down at the cute girl beneath her. She looked so angelic like this, without makeup and with her hair in disarray. How could someone so cute, be so evil, and say such nasty words, when she knew the effect they had on poor Harriet. With every cunt, whore, pussy, that Heather uttered, Harriet was driven closer and closer to an orgasm that never came. Finally, the frustrated girl was forced to shut her roommate up the only way she knew how.

She drove her mouth down on the bleach blonde and kissed her.

Heather gasped at the sudden intrusion of the questing tongue in her mouth, but then she surrendered to it; holding on tightly to Harriet as she shuddered from the effects of an orgasm.

Afterwards, Heather pushed Harriet off of her. "Mmmm, get off. I've got to get ready for class."

Standing up, Heather rubbed her hands up and down her naked body as she stretched. "That was a good one," she said. "You keep doing like that and I'm going to make so much money off of your arse I can buy my own castle."

Harriet felt her cheeks burn, hearing the girl talk so lightly of renting her out like some sort of prostitute.

"Heather, listen, I need to talk to you about that. I'm not the kind of ah... girl that does things like that."

"Like what?" Heather said, teasingly.

"You know..." Harriet was at a loss for words, or at least words that wouldn't cause a sexual reaction. "Has sex for money."

"You mean whores."

Harriet's chest began to rise and fall quickly as she felt her body react to Heather's language.

"Fucks," Heather said, getting into it. "Uses his little cockie to fuck little girl's pussies."

"Please," Harriet gasped, grabbing the bed to keep her hands from caressing herself. "Don't talk like that. I can't bear it. It-it's been too long."

"Then are you going to be a good little boy-toy for me?"

"Y-y-yes," Harriet stammered, just wanted Heather to leave her alone. "Just, don't make me do it with S- Stella, okay?"

"Why?"

"She-she made me do things. She put it someplace she wasn't supposed to," Harriet admitted, blushing prettily.

"She put what?"

"The-the... wand."

"You mean cock. Where did she put the cock?"

"In my... bottom."

"The word is ass, Hari," Heather said. "Did she put it in your arsehole?"

Harriet couldn't admit it. She looked down at her feet and nodded her head slightly.

"Awww," Heather said, putting a comforting arm around her roommate and rubbing a possessive hand over her bottom, making Harriet feel safe from Stella for just a moment. "I wish I could have seen it. I wish I could have seen my little boy-bitch getting fucked."

Harriet's eyes welled with tears. She wasn't safe after all. She wasn't safe from either of these sadistic bitches. She tore herself away from Heather's grasp, pulled on a pair of briefs and threw a robe over her body. "Leave me alone - you - you... meanie!"

Harriet slammed the door behind her, feeling the loss of her vocabulary almost as much as the aching pit in her heart that had been there since she was torn away from Chloe.

The showers were eerily silent, and it took Harriet a minute to put her finger on it. The golems weren't speaking.

"Nothing to say?" she asked a particularly wide-eyed marble face.

The face didn't show any response, much less respond. A cold chill crept up Harriet's spine. This was where Paige was killed and now the golems didn't even act like they were alive. As much as she hated the perverted little creatures, especially after what they did to her the last time she was here; right now, she would have given anything to have their comforting presence. She quickly took her shower and left, going straight to class instead of back to her room.

At her next class, Harriet waited for the Madame Hilda to bring up Paige, but she never did. Harriet raised her hand.

"Yes?" asked Madame Hilda.

"Ma'am, I was wondering what happened to Paige?" asked Harriet.

"Paige who? Was she a student or someone you know from back home?"

Harriet could feel everyone's eyes upon her. What was wrong with them? Was she crazy or was everyone crazy or under some sort of spell. While it was possible the constant arousal had affected her wits, Harriet didn't feel crazy.

"Nothing ma'am. It's no one," Harriet answered. It was clear if she was going to get to the bottom of this, she was going to have to do it herself.

There was another option as well, and that was to somehow get thrown out of school. That way she could be with Chloe. The only problem was, she had grown fond of some of the girls, and even the ones she didn't like, didn't deserve to die without a memory, as if they never existed.

It was then that Harriet looked around the room and noticed for the first time the empty seats. There were several and they weren't odd in themselves, but she would have figured the empties to be in the back or on the side, but not scattered throughout the class.

There was only one way to find out if the seats and Paige's death were linked. Harriet whispered to the girl next to her. "Amber, how come no one ever sits in that seat in front of you?"

"What seat?" Amber asked, squinting, and then her eyes opened wide in surprise. "Oh that one. There must be something wrong with it."

It was getting weirder and weirder. The empty desks seemed to be forgotten as well. The two had to be linked. After a few minutes, Harriet passed Amber a quickly scribbled note.

It read: Do you remember who used to sit there?

Amber passed the paper back. "Where?" it read.

Harriet gulped in fear. The worse thing was, she had almost forgotten the empty seat herself and it wasn't until she read the paper that it all came back in a flash of memory. For the rest of the class, Harriet was a note taking demon. Madame Hilda was impressed by her new diligence, but she wouldn't be if she read what Harriet was writing. Because, Harriet wasn't writing notes about magic, instead she was writing all the strange occurrences that had happened to her, so she wouldn't forget - couldn't forget the evil things that were happening.

By lunch, she had notes about all the weird occurrences and she was no longer as scared. For one thing, she had a plan. Well, two plans really: One for getting to the bottom of Paige's death and the other for getting thrown out of Frogwart's.

And at lunch, she had a chance to set the latter into motion. The best thing was, Heather was going to help her and she didn't even know it.

At lunch, Lovelle ate with the other black robes, as if she had never sat with Paige and Harriet. So Harriet was eating alone, until Heather showed up with a girl in tow.

The two sat down. "Harriet, I'd like you to meet, Candice," Heather said grinning. "She may be a new customer."