Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, Chronicles of Riddick and X-men; just my OC

A/N: Hey to everyone. I'm sorry I haven't updated any of my previous fics for awhile. I'm not abandoning any of them, of that I'm sure, but I'm in a sticky circumstance where I can't update as fast as I can. I don't think I have an author's block, because as you can see, I have –yet again- another fic up. As for the other fics, I don't have a block from them as well; I just keep getting other scenes further down the story popping up at random times. I write them down and then after that, I have a hard time trying to think up of the next chapter after the one I was supposed to be working on.

Yes, here it is; my Riddick/Harry/Logan fic that I've been longing to post up for ages. This was originally a challenge fic I put up in AFF, because I was feeling lazy. I decided to take it as my own because, quite frankly, I made quite a lot of ideas for this and where it's heading and couldn't trust anyone else to do it how I see it.

Riddick and Logan will be the dominant in the relationship with Harry as the sub in between. This will be further down the story. Harry will first be mated to two creatures, which means: bestiality. If you don't like this but like the story, then just skip it; I'll make a warning when the lemon comes, so you know. I might update Hermaphroditee-hee or Blood Blossoms; one of the two or both, later on today –if I have time.

"Surrender now, Potter." Voldemort shouted, over the cacophony of yells and howls of either a curse or of pain; his eyes shining in malicious glee as he saw more black figures overpowering their counter. His attention slid to his opponent; his eyes roving over the lithe figure. There was no denying the other's attractiveness, more so with his powerful, not to mention, angry aura surrounding him. He bared his teeth in a grin. "Or forever hold your peace."

Voldemort watched, rather lustily, as the other's eyes flashed in madness. In a swift move, Harry cast the deadly curse towards Voldemort. The other retaliating with the same curse only a split-second later. As expected, their curse met head-on and seemed to solidify into a thick thread. Both green curses pushing against the other, trying to overpower and win ultimately.

Harry gritted his teeth pushing more power in his wand and succeeded in pushing the other's curse. Voldemort's face also showed the exertion he was using trying to overpower Harry. Both opponents had their concentration solely on each other. All noise seemed to muffle as they try to stare each other down. Both had sweat trickling over their faces; gasps of breath could be heard and grunts of force.

Voldemort couldn't believe he was already getting tired trying to overpower and kill this… this CHILD! Yes! For that was what Harry was in comparison to The Great Lord Voldemort -a child. 15 –barely 16 years old. With his renewed anger he pushed forth wave upon wave of his power. The ball which indicated where both hexes met moved towards Harry's. The force of magic pushed against Harry, making his feet skid against the grass.

No! Harry can't lose this fight. So many lives have been sacrificed, and many more at stake! He can't afford to lose this fight! He pushed more power into his wand but the power which once flowed like a river, now slowed to a trickle of a small stream. Soon there'll be nothing left. He watched as the ball inched closer and closer.

A certain and unmistakeable red moved in the corner of his eye. Though his eyes were pointed to Voldemort, his attention was focused on his best friend bravely and fiercely fighting against a Death Eater. A bushy haired girl popped beside him, and quickly helped Ron fell the Death Eater. They shared a chaste kiss before pulling back and fighting more Death Eaters. His best friends have a 9 month old little girl. He couldn't believe Hermione actually got pregnant whilst still in school. He'd have thought she would wait until she was in a marriage and had a steady job. Of course, as soon as she was 16, she got married to Ron who was already 17. It was small and private, and for them it was perfect.

He felt more than saw the deadly curse heading towards his best friends. He knew he couldn't do anything. He saw Ron take notice of the curse at the last minute as it headed towards his wife. There was no time to move her; she was more than an arms length away. She had her back turned, and shouting would be too late. With nothing else to do, he did what he promised himself to do in case of a situation like this. He moved in line of fire and whispered 4 words, "I love you forever." It was loud enough to take Hermione's attention. She saw loving blue eyes staring straight to her own before they glassed over and he fell forward. She caught him in her arms.

"Ron." She whispered, caressing his face, the fight around her forgotten. "Ron, look at me." Glassy blue eyes stared at her, unblinking. "Look at me!" she sobbed frantically. "Ron!" her arms clutched around his head, holding it close to her chest. She was rocking back and forth, not caring about the constant gush of blood on her abdomen. She got it when Ron caught her attention giving her opponent a chance to cast a slashing hex at her; but she hadn't noticed. She knew she wouldn't survive. She gazed lovingly at his eyes. "Wait for me." she whispered, leaning down before capturing his lips into hers. She stayed like that. Unmoving. And Harry knew they were together.

Harry tore his gaze away from the snake before him to look at the still forms of his best friends; pain and sorrow clearly conveyed in his eyes. Voldemort, ever the Slytherin, took the opportunity and pushed all of his reserves into his wand. He watched as the magic thread throb before a small wave came out of his wand, heading towards the entwined forces. Harry looked at Voldemort, his tears running freely from his eyes; eyes that were once emerald orbs now shined an Avada Kedavra glow.

As the small wave of power from Voldemort, touch and push the ball to the tip of Harry's wand, Harry screamed. A scream so loud, it stopped every battle surrounding them. A scream filled with anguish, loss and most of all fury. A scream that cracked the dam of Harry's true potential -a crack that was enough for viscous power to gush through. The ball of entwined forces and Harry's raw magic met at the tip of his wand, exploding and shattering it to pieces. Several pieces of wood along with the phoenix tail feather and its other contents embedded themselves into Harry's palm. He never felt anything, even as blood flowed freely down his arm and onto the ground. He didn't care.

Around them, people from both sides of war looked on in awe and trepidation at the spectacle of the Boy-Who-Lived. No one could have ever predicted that this amount of power was sitting inside a scrawny little boy. Sure everyone admitted that he was the Boy-Who-Lived and therefore has more than average power, but they never imagined that he could possess such an enormous and thick power inside him. It was actually this power that has them rooted to their spot. His scream earlier caught their attention but the viscous energy exuding copious amounts of killer intent fixed them on the ground as if they were doused with thick mud.

The green thread of Avada Kedavra brightened to a blinding white and thickened to the size of his palm. It rushed forward, the rest of the green thread disappeared inside it, as if gobbled up by the powerful energy.

Voldemort looked on in shock and terror as he vainly tried to conjure more of his magic. As a last resort he tried to let go of his wand, but as if stuck with a permanent sticking charm, his hand couldn't let go.

Harry watched as his power consumed the Dark Lord; the other's terror and pain-filled screech echoing in the surrounding clearing. He watched the last piece if Voldemort –his red eye filled with horror and rage, disintegrate into nothingness before his vision became… nothingness.

"Potter, you ignorant little idiot. How could you even think you could win over me. Ha! Preposterous!" Voldemort leaned back in his throne-like chair, his eyes resting upon Harry's pitiful form.

Harry blearily looked around him; hadn't he won? He killed Voldemort, he was sure of it. So how can he be sitting there on a throne grinning madly while he's kneeling on the marbled floor with his arms raised above his head, shackled in mid-air? And why are there so many liquid coming out of his mouth? He tried to stand up but failed when he felt immense pain from doing so. His tendons were snapped. He was taken out of his stupor when a familiar shout reached his ears. Ron!

"Get your slimy hands off her!" he demanded to the Death Eater dragging a struggling Hermione by the hair. He was punched to the ground before he too was dragged by his hair. The Death Eaters ignored the shouts but retaliated with a quick and painful kick to the stomach when they hit their person. When they reached an adequate distance to their master they pushed their captives to the floor before bowing to the waist, "My Lord." Voldemort nodded to them.

"Well, lookie what we have here. New toys!" exclaimed Voldemort. At this, the two Death Eaters grinned taking this as a sign of green light. They didn't need their masks anymore, after all, Voldemort has won; they as Death Eaters were practically government officials. Death Eaters: Nott Sr. and Goyle Sr. smirked to each other before one, cast a petrifying spell to Hermione which made her stay in a kneeling position.

Ron seeing this, demanded. "What're you gonna do to her?!" His faced showed how frantically afraid for her wife he is. He watched as Nott moved her to face him.

Goyle answered him. "Oh, we're not gonna do anything to her… yet." With that he proceeded to push Ron down and rip his clothes off, and like a hungry beast licked and bit on every flesh he could see. Ron screamed in pain as some punctured his flesh.

"Oi! Wait for me!" Nott exclaimed.

Hermione watched in growing horror and anguish as her husband was brutally raped by these despicable creatures. Her eyes teared up as each pain-filled scream reached her ears, wrenching her heart. There was a lot of blood on the floor. If she could, she would scream to high heavens why the Gods were letting her husband suffer through this; why they created a monster like Voldemort.

Before Ron passed out from the pain and loss of blood they moved away from him. At first he was thankful for the small reprieve but when he saw where the two were headed, he wished they would come back to him and do those disgusting things they were doing to him all over again if they have to; anything, just to get them away from his wife; his beautiful, precious wife. Tears of frustration built up in his eyes as he tried to move but was clutched in gut-wrenching pain every time. He tried to scream at them; plead to them, but all that came out was a harsh whisper; his voice lost from all the screaming he made earlier.

Ron watched and heard everything as they raped his wife. To his left he heard harsh breathing and when he looked, he wished he never did. Voldemort was masturbating whilst watching the rape. To Voldemort's right he saw Harry, the Boy-Who-Lived; tears running freely down his face, and blood pouring out his mouth. He saw him try to speak to him but no words came out. But the movement of his mouth gave an indication to what he was trying to say: 'Ron, I'm so sorry.' Ron cried more to how pitiful they were all made to be.

Harry found out why there was so much liquid gushing out his mouth; his tongue had been cut. He cried as he couldn't do anything to help them. Suddenly he felt the shackles disappear and he fell on all fours. Quickly his clothes were spelled away and he was pulled onto Voldemort's lap. Immediately, he struggled. Cold hands squeezed hard on his cock making him choke in pain. "If you struggle, I'll call for their immediate deaths." The Dark Lord threatened. Harry instantly sagged in defeat and behind him Voldemort grinned. He pulled Harry up before unceremoniously dropping him on his cock. A loud gurgle met his ears. "Move." He commanded. Harry moved. Voldemort met him thrust for thrust, the blood pooling at his nether regions. As he climaxed he signalled to the others and before Harry's eyes, his best friends were beheaded.

"Aaaaargh.. aaaaaaaargh..huhu..aaaarrrghhhhh!!"

"Restrain him immediately, before he hurts himself!"

"His screams! He'll damage his throat if this keeps going!"

"We can't administer any potion or he'll choke like the last time." Sigh. "Stun him."

The figure on the bed stopped his screaming and trashing. The Doctors and Nurses didn't breathe a sigh of relief. For certain, once their ward wakes up from the Enervate spell, he will resemble a shell. Never talking. Never moving. Never eating or drinking. Just a shell of what he once had been; a great hero. Their Saviour.

He was found by worried friends after not responding to any owls for three days. He was found on his bed, staring into space… and completely filthy. When they opened the door their noses were immediately attacked by the stench of stool and piss. In his kitchen was the rotting pile of foods Molly cooked three days ago. They were undisturbed; they were in the exact same place Molly left them, with the exact same amount of food in it.

Without delay, they Apparated him to the Ministry to check him in the Hospital Wing. But after weeks of no response and vicious nightmare's, he was admitted to the Mental Ward. It was on that day that the Prophet published a sob-story of the war traumatized hero: "Harry Potter: Boy-Who-Lived, Our Saviour Mentally Ill" They wrote how he saved them all from their nightmare but they couldn't save him from his.

A/N: That's it. Comment on any mistakes, especially the last 2, coz i need to piss so badly, so i rushed them. Leave a review on the way out. And please come again.

zanzi xxx