This is a rewrite of a story I wrote a seriously long time ago and abandoned. It is now complete and will be posted up in full over the next week.
"Let's drag him in here," yelled Dudley Dursley, pointing to the decrepit abandoned home at the woodsy patch on the opposite side of the park. Leading the way, he was being closely followed by Piers, Dennis, Malcolm and Gordon towards the home. These four boys just happened to all go to Smeltings and were all a part of Dudley's terrible bully gang that terrorised everyone in school as well as most everyone they lived by. In their grasps, a smaller boy with jet-black hair was being trudged along with them, looking to be carried very much against his will.
Looking up at the rickety old door as Dudley kicked it open, Harry Potter heaved in a well needed deep breath; something he hadn't been able to do after being punched repeatedly in the ribs over the last hour. "What's going on?" he managed to wheeze out, eyeing his cousin's sinister grin with worry.
Dudley snarled at his undersized cousin as he held the door open for his four mates to drag him inside. "Gordon said you were looking at his arse earlier, you pouf. We're gonna teach you a lesson about checking us out!" He grinned, delighted in watching Harry's features contort into aghast fear.
"I did not! Let me go or I swear I'll tell the Order, Dudley!" yelled Harry, thrashing about in the clutches of the four boys holding him tightly by his arms and legs.
"Take him upstairs and keep him quiet, I've got to go home and tell mum that me and Harry won't be home tonight," said Dudley to the others, wagging his eyebrows mischievously at his friends.
Standing over his followers in deep discussion on the ultimate and permanent removal of Muggle-loving old fools, Lord Voldemort glowered outwardly and blushed inwardly at all the 'under the breath' cat-calls and kissing noises directed his way. Not certain who exactly was making the noises, the rude gestures were flying from every direction it seemed, he ordered all masks to be removed at once. "Stop it. Stop making those noises! This is serious business," he cried, feeling slightly less powerful in his new body; that of his 16 year old self, stolen from the destroyed diary Lucius Malfoy had retained once again.
Noting the wolfish looks on more than half his follower's faces, male or female, Voldemort cringed. "Meeting adjourned. Get away from me this instant!" He walked quickly to Lucius' side and grasped his upper arm. "Can I talk to you for a moment?' he whispered.
The handsome blonde's lips curled into a seductive smirk, his eyes scanned over the delicate fingers circling his arm. "Of course, my Lord. Would you like to talk somewhere more private...perhaps my chambers?"
Voldemort goggled at him. His hands slipped away as he backed up a pace, feeling quite defeated. "This was a really bad idea, Lucius. No one is taking me seriously anymore. Not just that, they're acting overly strange; as if I have some sort of mystical allure to them that was drawing them to me unnaturally. How can I get my old body back? You know, the really intimidating one that everyone averted their eyes to and feared to speak my name." he said with a sigh, gazing down at his beautifully shaped hands.
"Impossible I'm afraid, sir. This is your body now. You'll just have to learn to deal with it." Lucius loomed over the boy while he unconsciously wiped a bit of drool from his chin. "We'll all learn to deal with it."
"Bloody hell, not now," groaned Harry. His scar lit up white hot, further obscuring his already blurry vision. He would have doubled over if he could have, but being tied to a bedpost prevented that from happening. He gritted his teeth to hold in the impending scream, not willing to give the four boys glaring back at him the satisfaction of thinking they had caused his discomfort.
"What's the matter, Potter? Can't control those lustful urges?" chided Malcolm, glowering at the boy. "You looking at my arse?"
Harry rolled his eyes. He laughed to himself at the helplessness of the four cronies, fearful of making any moves without their pig-of-a-leader there to direct them. He only hoped Aunt Petunia would disallow his request, at least for him, to stay the night at Piers. Certainly she would know Harry would never want to do something that ridiculous.
The pain in his scar flared up in intensity then, driving him to yelp loudly and uncontrollably. All four boys jerked their heads back toward him nervously as his cries filled the room. "Be quiet, Potter!" shouted Piers.
His hands clenched into fists behind his back to take his mind away from the pain, wishing badly he could just rub his scar for a moment to help ease the suffering. He dug his bitten fingernails into his palms as the pain lingered. It seemed that Lord Voldemort was very upset about something.
"Why isn't he gagged? I could hear him out in the park!" yelled Dudley. He huffed and puffed to catch his breath as he fell over onto the old, dust-covered mattress on the four poster. Gordon stood up abruptly with a look of intimidation on his face. Harry opened his mouth politely as the larger boy stuffed it with his dirty handkerchief. Might as well not upset the toadies any more than they seemed.
"Guess what, Harry! Mum said we could spend the whole weekend at Piers house," said Dudley with a snicker, and Harry's heart began to beat wildly in his chest.
Lord Voldemort rubbed his forehead as the impending pain began it's ritualistic dull throbbing once again. "That Potter brat needs to do something other than worry all the time. I swear that's all he ever does anymore," he said to Lucius, who in turn flitted his eyes over his Master sexily. Over the last month or so, every instance of that wretched boy's worries began to take a toll on poor old Voldemort, showing up in the form of a mind numbing headache.
"Let me kill him for you, Master. I can make it all better," he pleaded, falling to his knees in front of the beautiful black-haired boy.
Voldemort stared down at him, jaw dropped open, not knowing what to do. He shook his head and whirled around. He walked quickly to his wardrobe and flung the doors open. He really needed to get out of there. "I...I think I need a little holiday. I deserve it, right? I mean...yes, I think I'm going to go away for a short time."
"But where?!" cried Lucius as he crawled over to his master on his hands and knees. He prostrated himself as he reached his perfectly beautiful feet, worshipping them with his eyes. "Whatever I've done to upset you, I'm sorry! You- you should punish me, Master! I've been so naughty!"
"Huh?" exclaimed Voldemort. He jumped back in horror at the innuendo, unable to rationalise why all this sudden attention was directed at him. He had wanted his young body back, he desired it, yes, but merely for a longer lifespan. He had honestly forgotten how deliciously handsome he used to be or how turned on he used to make his followers whenever he was in their presence. He had lost it so quickly after Hogwarts, dabbling in the dark arts, even at his sexual prime the only thing that had mattered then was power. Only power.
Lucius began tracing his fingers over his Master's toes as he licked his lips to keep them moist and puffy. "You could stay at my place. I've got loads of room, Master. My son and wife will be there...but I can send them away, that's not a problem."
Rearing back in complete horror, Voldemort waved his wand over the wardrobe hastily. A large trunk flew out and landed on his bed, filling with neatly folded clothing plunging themselves into it. "No, I think I'll just go somewhere private, maybe get myself used to this new body. You understand, right, Lucius?"
The Dark Lord's second in command propped his head up on his elbows, pouting up at his master. "Well, no, I don't. But you are the master, I suppose it's okay if you take a bit of time for yourself."
Malcolm stood face to face with Harry studying his features. "He looks kinda a girl. No wonder he acts like one, looking at my arse all the time..." he said to the others. Harry groaned in frustration. He was NOT looking at any of their flat or fat arses, and no girl had most assuredly done that, either. And he certainly did NOT look like a girl.
"Yeah, he's a pretty boy. All poufs are. Look! He just looked at your arse as you walked away, Malcolm!" cried Gordon, pointing at Malcolm's arse.
Harry spit the wad of dirty cloth out of his mouth. His sudden strange allure to people was really becoming a drag. "You wish. I would never, ever, ever look at any of your arses!"
Dennis reached into his backpack and pulled out a bottle of whiskey he'd nicked from his father's liquor cabinet. "Look what I've got!" He held it up like a symbol of deity and everyone 'ooh'd' and 'ahh'd', clearly impressed.
All five boys huddled up and began passing the bottle around, taking generous swigs of the whiskey between fits of coughing at it's awful taste. Harry leaned back into his bedpost with added worry, it was bad enough he was trapped with them but now they were getting pissed. Nothing good would come from that.
"You little bastard, get over it!" whimpered Lord Voldemort, pressing his fingers over his temples to numb the ache. "Nothing in your pathetic life could be so worrisome."
He stood at the end of the street corner, not exactly sure where he had apparated to. Nothing looked familiar to him, he couldn't remember where he had concentrated on when he cast the spell either. The area looked quite Muggle in appearance. Houses lined the street looking exactly like the one next to it. A woman in a car stopped at the corner and stared through slits at him. Tempted to pull his wand free and hex her into oblivion, he opted to toss her a rude gesture instead. She gawked at him and snapped her lips together as she drove off.
He looked down at himself and sighed. No wonder she was glaring at him, he was dressed up in his ceremonial robes. No Muggle could ever understand the significance or the beauty they represented. With a sigh, he pulled it off and folded it over his arm. No need to attract more unwanted attention, he'd had way too much of that earlier that afternoon to last a lifetime.
He stood there now in a pair of thin woollen trousers and a crisp linen shirt and tie. Glancing down the street he spotted an empty park that suddenly looked very inviting. In his whole lifetime he'd never visited a park, as much as he'd wanted to. A childish smile lit up his face as he nodded to himself. With his trunk safely shrunk in his pocket, he walked shamelessly towards the fun-looking area intent of gaining back some lost time.
"I swear with every sip I take he gets prettier and prettier. I think he just winked at me," said Piers. He winked back up at the boy struggling desperately to get free who was clearly not looking in his direction at all.
"Yeah, he sure is a cutie. Maybe he's really a girl and he's been tricking you, big D," said Gordon.
Dudley grimaced at them. "You guys are really foul, you know that?" He reached up behind him and punched Harry in the gut to make him stop moving so much. "He's a boy. I've seen him naked before. He's a boy for sure."
"You have?" enquired Dennis, swiping surreptitious glances at Harry's hot little body.
Harry tried to spit the handkerchief back out but the piece of rope that was tied between his teeth held it in quite effectively. His scar felt like it might burst open soon. He moaned in his throat hoping someone might take pity on him, no longer caring if his noise was buggering them all.
Malcolm crawled over to Harry on wobbly knees. Resting in front of him, his hand crept up Harry's bare leg to stroke the hem of his shorts. "Maybe we can see him naked too. It's not fair that only you've seen him, big D," he murmured, ignoring Harry's whimpering at the intrusion.
"I agree!" said Dennis, clamouring over to Malcolm's side to see what was making Harry squirm around so much. Piers and Dudley shared a look of *shock* briefly, but turned around to see what their friends were doing anyways.
Malcolm began fidgeting with the fringe hanging off the cut-off shorts, twisting the threads around precariously close to Harry's groin. Harry hopped up and down in place as much as the bindings would allow, unaware he was only exciting the boy more. His head was spinning out of control. The pain in his scar, the blurred vision from loosing his glasses, the fear pounding in his heart as the pissed boys began to fondle him was too much to handle. He began to scream into his gag, thinking maybe someone might hear him. Someone needed to come and help, anyone.
His head lolled forward as a wave of searing pain scrambled his brain, a vision from Lord Voldemort clenching his fists in front of his eyes flashed in his head. He tried to speak, seeing through the Dark Lord's eyes, watching him look up to the very abandoned house he was tied up in. Harry looked down at the two boys kneeling in front of him unzipping his shorts, numb to their actions anymore. His eyes rolled back into his head and he slumped against the ropes in a dead faint.
Feeling his heart skip a beat, Lord Voldemort snapped his head to his right, facing the decrepit old house. The sounds of muffled cries rang out from the broken window on the second floor. His head pounded with pain, compiling with the horror-filled flashes of terror resounding from Harry Potter's mind. He stumbled off the swing he sat on, cupping his forehead with his hands. Each cry sounded more desperate, and each time he'd look at the house the pain only increased in volume.
His breath came out in heated puffs as the insight opened itself up for him to see. He looked around at the street again. Muggle homes - in a Muggle town. Why would he have come here of all places? What was he thinking about when he apparated? A small smile lit up his face then. He was thinking about that nosey, snotty, interfering little nuisance Harry Potter, that's who.
The pain suddenly and abruptly stopped stabbing into his brain then, giving him a thorough start. He looked back at the house thinking if it might start again as it had before, but it didn't. He began walked towards the home, unsure why at first, but needing to know what was upstairs beyond that window. He pulled his wand free and held it at his hip as he entered the bashed in front door.
Several voices emanated from the upstairs. Voldemort began climbing the steps quietly, not wanting them to know he was approaching. The act of surprise was always the best way to access a situation, and access it he would. Sounds of kissing noises and light aggravated moaning filled the stairway. His heart beat quickly thinking maybe, just maybe the source of his headaches was up there. He could almost feel a magical signature radiating out into the stairwell.
"Put him on the bed," said Dudley. He stood over his followers, crossing his arms, spitting orders out like a drill sergeant. Gordon and Malcolm quickly began untying the knots holding the smaller boy to the ceiling-high post while Dennis and Piers held him steady. They tugged his shorts away as the ropes to his ankles were removed, leaving him clad in an oversized t-shirt and his knickers. Dudley was clueless, absolutely dense about everything other than making things bleed. "Why'd you take his shorts off?"
Harry groaned in pain as he tried to open his eyes. The pulsing heat from his scar worsened briefly, then relented it's suffering as excitement flooded his veins. He smiled as the makeshift gag was yanked away from his mouth to let him breathe again, and giggled under his hand the very second he was allowed to touch his face, mimicking of the boy outside the door.
"He does that sometimes, ignore it. Mum says he's nutters." Dudley motioned for Gordon to help carry him, who complied hurriedly by grabbing Harry's legs and lifting him over to the filthy mattress. "Now let's just beat him up and go. I don't want to waste being this pissed on dumb old Harry. That party down the street at April's house needs to be crashed, don't forget."
Dennis and Malcolm gasped lightly, very much not wanting to simply beat him up and go. "We'll stay with him, Dudley. He shouldn't be left alone anyways. You three go on," blurted Malcolm. He clutched Harry's wrist harder to hold him down. Dennis did the same to his other wrist.
Lord Voldemort listened intently at the door as the two boys pleaded their case to stay with Harry. He shuddered with excitement. Harry was really inside, he was in there with only a few worthless Muggles standing between them and him. He peeked in as they talked, eyeing Harry lying flat on his back in the spread eagle position, being held by four of the eeriest looking boys he'd ever laid eyes on.
A sudden swell of pity, mostly in the form of a headache, filled his heart. Harry looked so utterly frightened and disorientated. Sort of how he looked that night in the graveyard when he was surrounded by himself and thirty Death Eaters. He also looked slightly...no. Voldemort shook his head to clear it. Harry did not look sexy. He was a stupid skinny little boy who enjoyed tormenting him. He looked back at his legs. Long, long legs quivering under the hands holding them to the bed. "Pretty," he whispered in his hand, then pinched himself, unable to believe he'd just said that.
Dudley shrugged and leaned over the bed to snarl at Harry. "You're going to have to crawl home tonight after they're through with you," he taunted, laughing heartily at the boy over his fate, stupidly unaware that he'd most likely only be able to crawl if they got to what they really wanted from him. He stood back up and walked to the door with Piers and Gordon in tow.
"Dudley! Don't leave me here, they're-" Dennis clamped his hand over Harry's mouth as the semi-coherent boy became suddenly very coherent and realised what they had planned for him.
Lord Voldemort tiptoed into the darkness of the hall anxiously to let the three unwittingly smarter Muggles pass without being seen. Dudley looked back at Harry once more without any understanding and shrugged. "Stop being such a baby. I thought you were this really powerful...well, you know! - Good bye, Harry!" he shouted and left the room.
Malcolm grinned wickedly as he turned his attention back to his prey. He scuttled to climb on top of him while Dennis held him down, entranced and inebriated beyond rational thought any longer. He entwined his legs over Harry's thighs and leaned in closely to his face.
"You even think about kissing me, I'll bite your tongue off," hissed Harry. He jerked forward assertively with a look of pure hatred on his face.
'I should stop this,' thought Voldemort. He peered back inside as the two boys loomed over their victim, licking their chops, tossing out terrible threats of what they planned on doing to him. The large boy on top was leering down at him. The pain plunged back into his head, along with the feeling of sudden fearfulness in his heart. Not enjoying that emotion one bit, Voldemort straightened up and stepped into the room with his wand at his side.
Harry looked over and squinted to focus better on the new boy entering the room. His scar burned as his eyes locked onto the intense dark eyes looking down at him. Dennis and Malcolm turned around and growled at the intruder. "Who are you?" they both cried, holding Harry down harder to keep him steady.
"He is mine," he murmured, hypnotised by the boy on the bed. Had he never noticed how stunning he was before? He had certainly grown, those legs could wrap around his waist and lock on over his hips for hours...He looked up as the large boys began to shift off of the bed. Dennis twisted Harry's arms behind his back as he wrenched him off of the mattress to use as a shield.
Malcolm wagged his eyebrows at the taller but weaker looking boy, guessing that this must be Harry's cute little boyfriend since he was looking at him the same way they were. He puckered his lips at the luscious beauty and cocked an eyebrow. "You want to join us, honey? We weren't going to hurt your little boytoy...much. You're more than welcome to come help us."
"What?!" Taken aback at their lack of fear and the stupid look on that boy's face blowing him kisses, Voldemort held his wand up letting a shower of violent sparks shoot up into the air. Only Harry seemed to flinch at them. Brow furrowed, he curled his lip in a sneer. "That boy is mine. Let him go and I'll let you both walk out of here on your legs."
"If you don't want to share you can just leave," said Dennis. He wrapped his arm around Harry's neck and yanked him up against his chest. He gripped under his chin then as Harry struggled to break away. "Are you with this bloke here, Harry?" He shook Harry's head for him roughly and looked up at the new boy with a grin. "See? He says he doesn't want you here - so bugger off!"
"No wait! He can stay, Dennis. He's quite...striking, like the other little bender here is. I want him- To stay, I mean. Maybe we could have them touch each other - or touch us." Malcolm reached out to Voldemort with his hands, groping, wanting very badly to touch that flawless skin but Voldemort heaved in a deep and furious breath. Oh no, Muggles weren't going to humiliate him like his own flipping Death Eaters had.
"Blow kisses at me will you? -Crucio-!" he shouted, pointing his wand in Malcolm's direction, hitting him square on with the curse. He snorted out loud, watching him double over in pain and screaming so loudly he plugged his ears. Dennis balked and dropped his arms from Harry. Voldemort whirled around and pointed his wand to him before he could run. "And where do you think you're going? -Crucio-!" he screamed again. Dennis squealed like a pig as he toppled back against the bed, flailing around like he was on fire.
Harry fell to his knees but Voldemort grabbed his hand and hauled him back up. "Let's get out of here," he said. He dragged Harry from the room, leaving the curse to burn away at the minds and muscles of the two Muggles.
Dragging the smaller boy out past the park and into the wooded area, he slowly began to realise Harry was not only following him willingly but didn't seem to know who he was yet. The fear-filled headache drifted away into feelings of relief with each step. "Wait!" shouted Harry, giving his hand a tug and looking back at the park. "My glasses fell off over there, I need them-"
"No time for that," said Voldemort, not wanting to loose this lovely opportunity to kidnap Harry Potter away before he realised who was stealing him.
"Where are we going? Who are you?" he asked. He yelped as broken twigs and rocks cut into his bare feet as they ran through the woods. The boy holding his hand refused to let go but he didn't care, he had rescued him from certain assault after all. He let himself get dragged further into the darkness without any of his questions answered.
Voldemort looked around carefully for any other signs of life before stopping. He threw Harry against a tree then and pointed his wand at him. "Don't move, gotta make a portkey." He spotted a soda can lying on the ground and pointed his wand at it. "-Portus-!"
Harry stood is confusion, not really understanding what was happening. "I don't need a portkey, I live just up the way."
His hand was grabbed, yanking him away from the tree. "On the count of three, we touch this together," said the taller boy, shoving Harry to his hands and knees in front of the can.
"No," Harry shook his head, "I'm not going with you."
Rolling his eyes, Voldemort pointed his wand at Harry. "Have it your way then. -Stupefy-!" He clasped his hand with Harry's, lacing their fingers the moment he fell to the ground, and reached out with both of their hands touching the portkey.
"Er..." Lord Voldemort walked into his private bedroom with the unconscious Harry over his shoulder but stopped dead in his tracks. Lucius was lying on his bed with a mound of his knickers and undershirts piled around him, holding his favourite pair up to his face.
Lucius bolted upright, undies flying around the room as he pathetically tried to conceal them. "My Lord, you're home so soon!" he exclaimed.
"Oh Merlin, okay, I did not just see that," he replied, but looked sheepishly at the floor. "Umm, go away, Lucius. Don't tell anyone I'm home either."
Lucius ran over to him as he noticed the body he was carrying. "Who's that!?" he cried, pain-filled eyes looking over the barely clad form of the boy's backside and shapely legs. "Is this why you won't come over? You've got someone new..."
"This is Harry Potter, you fool! I've just done what you've been trying to do for years. I went out and caught the little brat!" he spat, and tossed Harry onto his bed.
"Oh, it is him! There's the scar! He's gotten bigger." Lucius leaned over the stunned boy intently with a furrowed brow. "What are you going to do with him?"
A shooting pang of jealousy hit him, watching Lucius tracing his finger over Harry's scar. "Mine!" he growled, then snapped his mouth shut immediately after as Lucius looked up at him with sad puppy-dog eyes brimming with tears.
Lucius fell to his knees in front of his master. "We could kill him together, Master. It would be beautiful. You and me, together. We could try one of those ancient ritualistic lovemaking spells that sucks the life right out of him while we writhe around in ecstasy on your bed." He snapped his head over to Harry's body again, glaring daggers at him for lying there so comfortably; like he owned the place or something.
"Ancient ritualistic lovemaking incantations? Is there even such a thing?" He stepped over Lucius to look at the books adorning his library shelves.
"Oh, of course it does, Master." chimed Lucius as he crawled behind Voldemort on his hands and knees. "Steal his power, drain his life-force, kill him. I'm sure I've read about that somewhere. Maybe it was in a movie, I don't know."
"Poor Lucius." Voldemort bent down and cupped his beloved Death Eater's chin with his hand. He looked nervously at the gorgeous blond, wishing he's stop making him feel so bloody uncomfortable about his new body. "I want to be alone for a little while. I wasn't able to have my holiday as you can see. I'm not entirely used to this whole thing. Do you think..."
Lucius held completely still with baited breath. His mouth fell open in his master's hand as his glittering dark eyes peered into his own. "Anything, Master," he mouthed, unable to find his voice.
The sounds of impatient knocking at his door gave him a start. "Master, are you in there?" shouted Wormtail. "I've been thinking about what you said the other day about us taking up a hobby. I've taken up sketching and was hoping you'd possibly model for me. Us! We've all taken up sketching you see, we're all out here needing a model."
Voldemort swallowed hard in his throat and turned his attention back to Lucius. "Do you think I could stay at your private chateau for a few weeks - alone? I mean, after I've figured out what to do with Potter here. I haven't decided yet."
"I'll take him, sir. I can keep him frozen until you get back. I won't harm him if you don't want me to," he replied. His hand reached out to touch the hand holding his chin, but Voldemort pulled it back quickly and stood up.
More angry knuckles began pounding on the door, vibrating it on it's hinges.
"No, I'll just take him. You know how clever and lucky he is. I can't afford him a chance to escape, he'll have to come with me." He walked over to Harry and lifted him up in his arms. He glanced back at the door and hugged Harry tight into his chest to hide his obvious panting. "Good lord, I need to get out of here, that door's about to fall down."
Lucius pointed his wand at the soda can he sat on the bedside table. "Can I come visit in a few days, Master? I promise I'll be very discreet!"
"Fine, yes, please hurry, Lucius!" huffed Voldemort, cringing as the door began to bow from bodies thrusting up against it.
"-Portus-!" cried Lucius, turning the can into a portkey once more. "Go!"
"We just want to sketch you, Master!" screeched Bellatrix, her eye piercing right at him through a crack in the door.
"She's breaking in!" Voldemort lunged at the can while laced with one of Harry's hands. The door burst open as they touched it, but the normally hated tug behind his navel made him feel very good right then.
Landing inside the main hall of the small chateau, Lord Voldemort tumbled forward, off-balanced from the weight of carrying Harry in his arms. He landed directly on top of him and looked down at the soft face of the sleeping boy beneath him. He lifted himself up on his hands and hovered over him for a moment, the urge to lean back down and touch those puffy pink lips crossing his mind.
He shook his head again but the thought remained. He leaned in closer, then cringed, feeling very much like those naughty boys that had Harry pinned under them. "I'm…I'm Lord Voldemort. I don't need to steal a kiss from anyone let alone ~you~. I command wizards twice as powerful as you to bend to my will!"
He cringed again. He sounded like a sodding fool. He stood up, leaving Harry on the floor and walked around the chateau deep in thought about his plans for his new prisoner.