There's some scenes of violence and mention of rape in this...don't read it if you don't like it. Also, theres going to be some boy loving here, as in, gay relationships. Don't like that? Go swallow a knife, m'kay?

Disclaimer: I don't own it.

Voldemort grinned insanely, standing on the end of Privet drive, his snake-like eyes focused on the 4th house of the street. The home in which Harry Potter resided, under the care of his aunt and uncle, no doubt spoiled like his fat cousin was.

Voldemort shuddered, remembering the glimpse he had gotten of the thick youth days earlier. What a revolting sight he had seen in the pensive that day. He almost felt bad for Severus, who had to witness the fat muggle doing his 'business'. The key word there was 'almost', the reason he had Death Eaters was so they could do the dirty jobs, and Severus was the only one able to enter the premises without an alarm going off and half of the wizarding world showing up to save their precious savoir.

He sneered, thinking back on the sleepless nights and countless days it took to finally come up with the solution on how to get near Harry Potter without The Order of the Phoenix finding out. The answer was so simple, he almost smacked himself for not thinking of it sooner. Though he voted to crucio a few of his not-so-well-liked Death Eaters instead.

A simple blood transfusion was all it took. The fat cousin of the Potter brat was the key to killing the boy-who-should-have-bloody-well-died-earlier. Voldemort simply got Lucius to take some of the boy's blood while he was busy beating the hell out of some kid mercilessly, then had it injected into his own blood-stream. After he grabbed Potter from the safety of the barriers, he would return to his mansion and have the filthy muggle blood removed from his body.

He turned, facing the group of Death Eaters standing behind him, looking around curiously at all the muggle artifacts. He rolled his eyes. "I'm going in. Severus, you will return to Hogwarts to keep from drawing any suspicion to yourself." He waited until he heard the tell-tale pop of someone apparating away. "The rest of you will wait here until I return. When I do, cast the dark mark over the home. I'll be leaving no survivors." He smirked, and strode through the barrier.

Grunts came from the bedroom, more like closet, of the boy-who-wished-he-could-die. The slapping sound of flesh smacking against flesh echoed throughout the room, sometimes followed by a pained sob.

Harry James Potter, savoir of the wizarding world, was currently bent over the window sill, being pounded into by his uncle Vernon. His right eye was black and swollen; his back covered in deep gashes from the belt his uncle now had wrapped tightly around his neck. He couldn't breathe, and felt as if his windpipe was being crushed. Occasionally, it would loosen, and he'd find himself able to get in a gasp of air, though it was strained and often followed by a sob.

Why he was crying, he had no idea. This had been happening for years, though it never seemed to get any easier to accept it. Maybe he was crying for the innocence he had long since lost, or perhaps because he knew no one cared enough to help him. Either way, he knew he was all alone in this. Dumbledore knew, but chose not to do anything to help him. He told him it was for his own good, and that he needed to remain with his Aunt and Uncle until he was older.

Harry was dragged out of his thoughts when he felt his uncle shudder behind him, and felt the warm coating of semen filling him. He wanted to be sick. He wanted to scream, shout, stomp his feet and cry about how he shouldn't be treated this way. But, he knew no one would listen. He was a savior, and saviors weren't supposed to be weak.

The belt around his neck loosened until it was pulled off completely, and Harry, without anything to hold him up, fell forward, his chin hitting the hard edge of the window sill, splitting open his lip as his body fell to the ground.

"Your lesson isn't over yet, freak." Vernon grabbed Harry's hair, lifting his head up, before slamming it back down on the window sill, watching as spurts of blood shot from his nephew's now broken nose. He brought Harry's head back up, and proceeded to slam it down again, listening to the crunching sounds of cartilage breaking. He continued to do this until he heard a scream from downstairs.

"What have you done, freak?!" he gave Harry's head one final slam, watching as Harry began to choke on the blood that was now gurgling up in his throat, before storming out of the room, pulling his pants up as he went.

Harry heard louder screams from downstairs, but was unable to comprehend what was going on around him. He was coughing, and sputtering, blood leaking from his mouth and forming a puddle on the floor around him. He heard footsteps coming up the stairs, and shut his eyes tight, waiting for the abuse to start up again.

When he heard a sharp intake of breath, and no longer heard the steps advancing on him, he managed enough strength to lift his head a bit, causing him to choke even further, and look at the one standing at the door.

All he saw was pale skin, and glinting red eyes before he passed out into a crimson puddle of his own blood.

-looks around nervously- Okay, I'm supposed to be updating my Naruto and Inuyasha stories, but I've been reading and watching too much Harry Potter, and it's inspired me to write something. Yeah...well as long as no one reading my other fics catches me starting another story, I'm safe to update sometime soon. Tell me what you think.