A/NThis is my first fanfic ever. You'll like it. Trust me.
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Long Strips of Metal
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Harry pulled his large cloak around him wearily as he entered Knockturn Alley.
He was thankful no one had recognized him. Most of the wizards in Britain would happily murder him on sight after his betrayal, and he was in no condition to fight. His magic was failing him, sucked out of him by theparasites within him.
Or at least, that was he called it. Harry knew full well that he was becoming weaker from the pain. Not only the physical pain - it was beyond measure - but the echoing despair that wrung his heart when he thought of his lover leaving him.
Harry groaned, his bowels contracting painfully.
He shook his head in a failed attempt to clear his mind. Burrowing deeper inside the cavernous fabric around him, he turned into the closest abandoned looking alley and settled himself in front of the tall, dirty brick dead end wall, casting a notice-me-not charm.
He thought on his life as he pressed his fingers onto his swollen stomach, rubbing it in soothing circles.
Here he was at 19, in a dirty old alleyway, alone and broke. He had been kicked out of the privileged life afforded to him by his love until he got rid of the...things that soiled his mate's name. The rejection had stunned him, but he had no choice to comply. He had turned his back on the light, and he knew there would be no redemption. How could they take him back now? What would Ron think, sweet, pretty Ron?
He thrust his hands into his coat pocket and took out the metal coat hanger, rusty and burnt. Even this had been stolen. He wasn't told how exactly he was to dispose of his unwelcome extras, and he didn't want to risk St. Mungo's. The humiliation would be worse than the Dementor's Kiss he would endure.
He smiled a bit at that thought. Dementor's Kiss. That was affectionate name given to the kiss that had led to the multiple heartbeats in his abdomen. His love was so good...
Closing his eyes, he wiped the sweat dripping down his forehead as he pulled off his pants. Uncoiling the coat hanger, he fashioned a crude hook, setting the tip ablaze with his beat up old wand in a crude attempt at disinfection.
"Curse you, Draco," he cried to himself, clenching his eyes shut. But even his hateful words couldn't compare to the swelling in his heart at the name.
He dropped to his knees on the frigid stone floor, leaning forward, face pressed against the wall. He dropped one hand to support himself. He threw off his boxers as well, leaving his nether regions exposed to the elements. How Harry wished he could have gone back to the last time he had been in this position. Perhaps he could have stopped this disgrace from becoming a necessity.
Taking a deep breath, he parted his cheeks, shivering as the cold wind tickled his rosebud. With a shaking hand, he moved the coat hanger behind him, positioning it as his eyes watered in sorrow.
He threw one last look at the empty alley behind him and he braced himself, clenching his teeth.
With a furious cry of defiance, he plunged the jagged metal into his depths, eyes immediately tearing from the intense pain. He stopped for a moment and let it adjust, using skills he was intimate with. But to his dismay, he found that it had hardly gone inside. There was much more to go.
Giving a wretched moan, he pushed it in further, shaking from the sensation of being torn in half. He could feel liquid pouring outward from his anus, trickling down over his hairy sack and down his penis. It plopped to the ground crudely.
It seemed to take hours before he encountered resistance. But at last, he found it.
Harry felt something squirm inside him as the metal budged against the object inside. He thought of the life the children could have had, could still have, the pride and joy he could have felt as the boys could have been born alive, with Draco at his side.
"It's your fault," he said to the image of the blonde young man, his heart hammering.
With a half-sob, he impaled the precious masses within him, destroying the embodiment of the tender affection he felt for the man he loved.
He could almost feel the death taking over his children, stealing away the breath in their little bodies, robbing him of the chance to enjoy a life with their fathers, of perhaps a love like he felt for his dearest. Again and again he stabbed them, ashamed for his blind devotion and his weak will.
He should have said no. He should have left him and given birth to his sons. But he couldn't stand live without his precious ferret. He couldn't imagine life without the sweaty nights, the dirty pounding he endured late at night as cum mixed with remnants of his last bowel movement, the curious mixture of brown, white and red that spattered his love's pubic hair.
But no such delights were occurring now. A gooey liquid was pouring down his rear. It smelled of blood and death. An explosive pain tore through his midsection suddenly, and he fell back, crashing against the bricks with a cry of surprise.
He pulled the hanger out in the tormenting haze of pain, tossing it the side as he curled up in the fetal position. He thought of the irony, of how the very children he had killed inside of him had probably lived like this for many months now.
The muscles inside him clenched uncontrollably, and suddenly Harry felt his anus straining to accommodate the large masses pushing through. He gasped with the sensation, and clawed at the ground to stifle his screams.
With two wet plops! they tore through, leaving Harry with hot tears of shame and hatred. His head fell back to the grimy floor, and he was acutely aware of the mass behind him. He turned around and saw the mutilated fetuses staring back at him accusingly.
Surrounding that was a pool of blood that seemed to trail back behind him. He tried to get up, but toppled again, suddenly feeling cold and distant. The coppery thick fluid was coming out in torrents.
He tried vainly to stop it, grasping for his wand and casting every spell he knew. Nothing worked.
In a last, feeble attempt, he tried to scream out for help.
"HELP ME! MY ANUS IS BLEEDING!"
Outside, several witches and wizards turned their head towards a brick wall, confused. Each could have sworn they had seen an alleyway in the corner of their eyes. Shrugging, they moved on.
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A/N: Aren't you quivering in arousal right now? Please REVIEW and tell me what you think!