Disclaimer: If I owned harry Potter, small children would be banned from reading and watching. Also, it would probably be sold in Adult stores, rather than your local book store.
Warnings: Slash/Yaoi, torture, rape/non-con, sex with a minor
You know, I really should be working on my other story…
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Albus Dumbledore looked down at the crib that held two fraternal twin brothers. One was William James Potter, the elder twin, and the other Harry Regulus Potter, the younger twin. He remembered after the twins had been born and their names had been announced. Everyone had asked James, 'why Regulus?' and he had shrugged. Lily had named Harry and he had named William, which had been his father's name. Lily always shrugged off the question, her eyes flicking to Sirius. Dumbledore had always wondered if maybe ... but that was preposterous.
Lily just probably felt bad for Sirius, his younger brother was missing and presumed dead. Regulus was a nice wizarding name, after all. Dumbledore had been at their christening, a muggle thing. He'd watched as the twin boys were baptised, smiling politely at the strange culture. He was also there when the boys had their first Imbolc, Ostara, Beltane, Litha and Samhain. Now on their second Samhain, which Lily called Halloween, and he had to choose which one would be thrust into the limelight.
And which one would continuously be discarded and forgotten in the wake of their brother. He frowned as he looked the boys over for any sign that they had defeated Lord Voldemort. One done in neon, flashing and with an arrow would help. But alas, the only thing that marred their soft flesh was a scar. One each. Both were different and in the shape of a curse mark. He sighed and narrowed his eyes on them, as if by doing that they would give up their secrets to him.
One had a lightning bolt on his forehead and the other had a half circle, upside down, burnt into his shoulder. They were lying next to each other peacefully and the elder one, William, reached out and grabbed his younger brothers hand. Harry turned into him and drifted off to sleep. The twinkle re-entered Dumbledore's eyes as he walked around the crib, inspecting them from all angles. Walking the path of fame and glory was always harder and perilous when travelled alone.
He walked forward and picked both of them up, cradling them gently in their arms. He walked out of the room and downstairs to where a pale Lily Potter, angry Sirius Black, worried James Potter and growling Remus Lupin were sitting. Remus stopped mid-rant and turned to Dumbledore. "Well?" Lily asked and Dumbledore smiled. "May I present the Boys-who-lived." He said, smiling benevolently. "Using their combined power, and their ultra special twin bond, they have defeated the dark Lord Voldemort." He said and the four sitting in the room flocked to him and the children.
It wouldn't do to be wrong, after all.
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The ten year old Harry Regulus Potter was playing in the garden, talking to the pretty snake. His Mummy had taken Billy up to the house so he could get their brooms, they were going to play, and Harry was using the time to talk to his new friend, Snake. She didn't have a name and he was trying to think of one. She'd already rejected everything, though he didn't see why. Snaky was a good name. Her tongue flicked out and Harry cocked his head to the side as she looked alarmed. :Call to your mother, hatchling! Run!:She hissed urgently and he turned around, only to be back handed across the face.
Harry was out, unconscious, from the force of the blow. His attacker stunned him anyway, just to be sure. Harry was taken far away from Godrics Hollow, the supposedly impenetrable safe haven and permanent residence of the Potter family. The man reappeared half way across the continent, on a small dirt path. He carried the boy through the wooded area and towards an old dilapidated house. Corpses of snakes littered the ground, long since dead. On the front door was the skeleton of a snake, nailed to the door. As the door opened, the skeleton collapsed and only the nailed through head remained.
A day later Harry awoke in a cold dungeon cell. Shivering, the cold quickly invaded his small body and settled deep within his bones. Water could be heard dripping from some other part of the dungeon and Harry looked around. He couldn't see anything outside of his cell, the darkness being too complete. Harry quickly scooted back into a corner, curling up into a ball to conserve heat. He spotted a blanket and wrapped it around himself. The blanket was cold, but not wet or damp.
Harry was unsure as to how long he sat in that corner, curled up and frightened out of his mind. Harry wasn't a fan of the dark, it scared him. But normally his Mummy would have the night light on for him, and she would sit with him until he fell asleep. But he couldn't see his Mummy or a night light anywhere. There was a noise, a deep scraping noise, and Harry whimpered. He still couldn't see anything, so he looked harder. A bright light filled the dungeon and Harry was blinded by the sudden change. The door was shut again and Harry could hear light footsteps.
The sound reverberated around the room, bouncing off walls and making Harry curl up into himself again. As the footsteps came closer, the acoustics seemed to stop playing tricks. But, to Harry, that sounded worse. The footsteps were sharp, and Harry felt like he was going to die. The sound was so final. Suddenly the footsteps stopped and Harry looked up. He couldn't see anyone there, but somehow he knew he was being watched. A face appeared from the gloom and a man leant against the bars, eyes wandering over Harry. He sneered.
"So, you're one of the brats that defeated my master?" It was a rhetorical question. He knew that this was one of the brats; he'd spent the last nine years searching for a way to steal one of the boys away and kill. He'd finally figured a way to bypass the wards and get into Godrics Hollow, it had been his first day of watching the family when the woman had taken one of her disgusting spawn back to the house. One of the children, Harry, was left alone. The garden was closer to the edge of the wards than the house. It had been risky, but nine years had taken most of his patience.
But, it had paid off. Right now, the wizarding world was in a panic. One of their precious saviours was missing, a nationwide search was being conducted which would, no doubt, expand to the whole world once they couldn't find him. And they would not find him. Because right now Harry Regulus Potter was sitting in one corner of a dungeon cell, frightened out of his mind. The house was warded, better than Godrics Hollow, and not even an ant would get in.
"Pathetic." He spat at the boy, satisfied when the boy flinched back at his harsh bark. Harry had tears in his eyes, the man was frighteningly familiar. But different. Too different to bring any comfort to the small boy, rather it just made his fear worse. Harry took a deep breath and opened his mouth, before shutting it and taking another breathe. He scrunched his eyes up, steeling his resolve, before looking up at the man again. Harry had been told about Death Eaters, but he'd never been one to judge. Harry thought the best of everyone; he still had hope that the Death Eater in front of him would let him go home.
"Can-can you let me go, sir?" He asked politely, even though his voice was meek and almost inaudible. He laughed; it was a cold, harsh sound. His voice was actually quite nice. It was silky, but rough at the same time. There was also a hardness to the voice that scared Harry. "My...my Mummy will be looking for me." He said and a malicious grin was seen through the darkness. "No, she's not." He said. Your Mummy isn't coming. Neither is your Daddy. Didn't anyone tell you? They don't care." He said and Harry scowled, shaking his head.
"They've better things to do that think about you. To them, you are nothing." He said and leant forward, head pressing against the metal. "They practically gave you to me. Your Mummy could've given me you, or your brother. But she took him inside instead of you, leaving you to me. She doesn't love you, doesn't want you." He paused, trying to think of something else to say, something that would wound a child. "She and your father love William, your brother, more than you." The Death Eater was well aware of how much those words could slice through a heart.
"Oh, but don't cry little one." He said, his grin getting even wider. He looked like the cat who'd gotten the cream, with the canary as an after dinner mint. "I'm going to take care of you from now on. We're going to have so much fun." Harry, even though he was just a child, had an idea of exactly what type of activities the man before him considered fun. After waiting a few minutes, building the suspense, he flicked his wrist. The cell door unlocked and he stepped inside.
Two steps and the cell had been crossed. The man crouched down to be level with Harry. Ice blue eyes, slightly crazed, bored into frightened green. His canines were elongated, and Harry wondered if it was natural of wether he was a vampire. Harry hoped he wasn't a vampire; Padfoot had told him all sorts of horrible stories about vampires. A large hand reached up and caressed Harrys cheek. He was surprisingly gentle, and Harry realised that his cheek had been throbbing. He only noticed because the fingers rubbing against his cheek and jaw bone soothed the pain.
The hand reached up and carded through thick ink black hair. Harry wondered why he was so scared before, this man was nice. His Mummy would do something similar. But there was something different in the way they did it. Harrys eyes slid shut, quickly giving in to the calming gesture. He missed the malice in the mans gaze, probably because he'd never seen the emotion before. People were always nice and kind to him.
"Harry?" The man asked. His voice was softer than it had been. It still reminded Harry of something silky but rough, although without the steel behind it Harry found it quite comforting. Harrys eyes fluttered open so he could look into the intense orbs. He had a feeling that it was important. "I need you to answer me truthfully, Harry." He said as his other hand rested on the soft chin, gently tilting the Childs head up so Harry was looking at him. His lips tilted into a soft smile and Harry smiled back. He was exhausted. He wasn't equipped to deal with such terror. He was, as some would say, a lover not a fighter.
"I need to know, do you want to play games with me?" He asked, making sure that he didn't grin. He knew that when he grinned, he looked insane. It was a combination of the fangs in his mouth, the hate in his eyes and how big his smile could actually get. It was quite good for intimidation, but terrible for talking with children. So he kept his lips together, tilted softly at the end. He was glad it looked more like a smile than a smirk.
His efforts were rewarded as Harry nodded, smile becoming larger, more child like. Harry was now convinced that he'd been over reacting before. It was just the dark, he thought, that made him look so menacing. One hand continued to card through his hair, extending down to stroke his neck a bit before carding through his hair again. The other hand was still on his chin, but he moved to caress the childs lips with the pad of his thumb. The Death Eater was surprised at himself. This was the single most intimate thing he'd ever done, and it was to a pre pubescent child.
"I need you to say it Harry. I need you to say that you'll play games with me. I want to play with you for the rest of your life." The wording of the last comment escaped Harrys relaxed, sleepy mind. He heard what the Death Eater wanted him to hear, rather than what had been actually said. Harry nodded and tilted his head into the caresses. "I promise to play with you forever. All the games you want." Harry thought he knew what had happened. To him, it was obvious.
The Death Eater was lonely. After Voldemorts death, the Death Eaters had scattered to the winds and had not been in contact for fear of being discovered. So it was natural for them to be lonely, Harry thought. Harry was, at the core of his being, a caring person. When other children squished bugs or would run away screaming, Harry picked them up and searched the garden for hours to find the perfect spot for the insect or bug. Harry would spend hours playing a game he hated just so his brother would have fun. It was natural for him to want to help this Death Eater, even though he was kidnapped by him.
The Death Eater, in Harrys mind, was too shy to go out and make a friend. Harry thought that the Death Eater was ashamed of going to Voldemort, which hindered his efforts to find friends. So he, obviously, resorted to getting a friend the only way he knew how. Because Harry was so kind, he had no concept of deception. The long fingers carding through his hair and the hand on his chin, with a thumb caressing his lips were, to Harry, sincere gestures of a human that had spent too much time alone. The insanity in his gaze was written off as despair and Harry wanted to fix that. He wanted the Death Eater to smile. An honest, happy, innocent smile.
So when His soft smile turned back into an insane grin, Harry wasn't concerned. And when the hand stopped carding through his hair, resting on his neck, he wasn't concerned. "Oh Harry." Harry opened his eyes again, looking innocently at the Death Eater. The one he considered his new friend. "You've made me so happy." He said and Harry started to get a bit worried, but pushed it from his mind. It wasn't his new friends fault that he looked so sinister and evil.
Was it?
The hand on the back of his neck moved up and the fingers became tangled in his hair. "But I think that, maybe, you shall regret being so naive." Harry looked confused, until the hand tightened and his hair was used to drag him to his feet. Harry cried out in pain as he was dragged, still by his hair, out of the cell. The mans right hand was still free, allowing him to open the door they came to. Harry, though in pain, noticed that his was the only cell there. The thick wooden door scraped across the stone floor, frightening Harry, and the child was thrown in the room.
Harry slammed into the hard floor and cried out again. The door was locked and Harry was hauled up, thankfully by his shirt this time, and slammed down onto a metal table. The table had restraints and with a disturbing amount of proficiency, the Death Eater had Harry strapped down by his wrists and ankles. One finger was dragged up the sole of one of Harrys feet, making the child shudder.
Harry watched as his capturer walked over to a cloth covered table. The cloth was dropped to the floor and a variety of knives and other sharp, dangerous and pointy objects were revealed. Harrys eyes went wide and he swallowed nervously. "Would you like to know what game we're going to play?" The voice was mocking and Harrys eyes welled with tears. He'd been tricked, taken advantage of. The man picked up a relatively small knife and turned to Harry. The blade, Harry would find out in the years to come, was pure silver. Even in the dull light, it shone like a star.
He advanced and Harry tried to run, but couldn't because of the restraints. So he tried to make himself smaller, a defence mechanism. It didn't work. Harry whimpered as his shirt was cut off, and then screamed as the knife slashed into him. Blood dripped down his body as the cuts, stab wounds and slashes accumulated. His dark red blood soon covered the entire table, dripping down and onto the floor. Harrys screams were enhanced by the acoustics of the dungeon room, a symphony of pain heard by only two people. One, who was in too much pain to realise that he was even screaming, and the other delighting in pained screams coming from the ten year old and tried to appeal to his nonexistent mercy.
Finally he finished and Harry thought that his life would be ended. But the man produced a wand and the almost fatal wounds on body healed up. Harry felt like he was devoid of skin, having only scabs to stop his blood and organs flowing out. The Death Eater smirked. He could make a man die for weeks before he ended the pathetic life he was in charge of. He released the bonds tying Harry down but the boy was too exhausted to move. The man licked the blood off the knife before sitting down in a chair Harry hadn't noticed in his panic earlier.
Sitting down, he cleaned the knife he'd used, placing it back on the tray. The cloth went back over and hid the weapons from view. The room was once more just another room in a dungeon. If you ignored the litres of blood that would be fatal for an adult to lose, let alone a child. Harry was forced up, his body screaming at him to stop moving. The Death Eater forced him back to his cell, a hand sometimes shooting out to poke at one of the tender scabs. But, miraculously, Harry did not bleed. The scabs didn't break and Harry was glad. He didn't want an infection. He was pushed back into the cell he'd woken up in.
"I hope you had fun." The man said as the door slammed shut. "I know I did. I can't wait until we do this again. Til tomorrow." He said and retreated. This times, Harry did not listen to the ominous footsteps, and forced the maniacal laughter out of his head. He headed back over to the corner and pulled the blanket around his shivering form. Tears leaked down his face as he sobbed as quietly as he could, even though he'd already heard the screeching and loud bang that Harry assumed was the door to the dungeon.
"Mummy." He whispered into the still, quiet air of the cold, unwelcoming dungeon. "Why did you let him take me?" He sobbed, ignoring the pain as he wrapped his arms around himself and buried his head into his knees.
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Hi! This chapter was originally supposed to go for longer but I have a challenge for anyone reading this! Can you guess who the mystery Death Eater is? Yes? No? I was just curious so I cut the chapter off at what is now the end, and then I had to go back through and change it so I made sure I didn't accidentally write the kidnappers name and then paragraphs, and whole scenes, had to be changes to accommodate the different wording. Actually, I'm starting to think that it was more trouble than it's worth...
Belated Happy New Year!
Leelu.