Title: Shattered World.
Summary:
After the war has ended, Harry finds himself in quite a bind. Vines are slowly constricting him, narrowing his choices, not allowing him to escape. He'll have to sink or swim. But which one shall he choose?
The war had ended, and with that, his friendship with Ron and Hermione. Who could he choose as friends other then the loyal Neville Longbottom, and the ever kind Luna Lovegood? But looks deceive. Everyone has changed after the war. The war has spared no one, not even kind Luna, brave Neville, or poor Harry. How will their new look at the world affect the next adventure? The adventure of life or dead, love or hate, trust or betrayal?
Pairings: Luna/Neville. The rest will be unveiled by the story. What might seem obvious at first, will surprise later on.
Disclaimer: If I owned Harry Potter, this wouldn't be a fanfiction.
Warning: Mature content (or hints at it), Mentions and hints at abuse of the physical kind, D/s relationship, Self-Harm (Unintended and intended), Death (None of the primary characters of this story), possibly more warnings to come.
Chapter one:Revealing the hidden.
Spreading his legs open wide, like a common five knuts whore, Harry Potter lay panting on his bed. Eyes were closed, while his mouth was slightly open, moans and pleas spilling from the sinning mouth. Twisting on top of the covers on his little mattress, he was sweating a river.
Suddenly, eyes snapped open. The moment his eyes snapped into awareness, his body stilled. Laying in the bed silently, not moving a muscle, Harry was frozen. After a few tense seconds, he cursed out loud, biting his tongue painfully. He had done it, again! Again he had that dream, that sinful, delicious dream.
Groaning softly, he sagged on his bed. There was no denying it, he was lusting over the ones in his dreams. Yes, you heard that correctly. Harry was dreaming over not only one, but two mysterious persons. Every night those dreams came back, haunting him, pleasuring his body, only for him to wake up at the most inopportune moments.
Biting his lip, Harry´s resolve shattered. With a slightly ashamed look, he reached in his pajama pants, gripping his swollen erection slightly. Every night he had to wank to get off, the pleasure that filled him unable to fade away otherwise. No, he was screwed. He knew he was at the mercy of the persons he was dreaming about. And if those persons ever found out that he had such dreams involving them, he would be dead. No, worse, they would tell. Humiliate. Bully.
A sob wracked his beaten body, while tears spilled over his cheeks. They were too far away. Never would he be able to get them, to taste them, to let them into his life, to be with them. They would just laugh at him, and turn him away. For he was the Boy-Who-Lived, the one they hated with every fiber of their beings. He knew that was how it was, how it has always been. He knew that was how it would always be. For, why would they ever want him? Ugly, bruised Harry Potter? The Gryffindor Golden boy? Pawn of the Light side?
Harry couldn't stop with sobbing, even as he brought himself to his climax. As pleasurable as his dreams might be, the moments after were anything but. They were slowly killing him, the mystery people in his dreams were slowly killing him. Without even knowing what they were doing, without knowing what was going on with Harry, they were destroying him. And if they ever found out, it might just already be too late.
For he was a shell. Empty and alone. He needed someone to complete him, to care for him, to fill his cold and frozen heart. Harry had long since stopped caring for the people who had betrayed him. Even though one might not see it clearly, he had been hurt when his friends had betrayed him. When they had turned his back on him after he finished off Voldemort. Unable to stand the betrayal, he had raged.
Neville Longbottom, what a great friend he was, had dragged him off to the Room of Requirement for him to vent off his anger. While the people who were on his side were now clear, the ones who had betrayed him had hurt him. His heart had frozen over, only warming up to the ones he cared for. No matter how much Luna or Neville might try, they could not mend his inner wounds. Harry now knew that only the two people in his dreams would be able to do that. But as that was unlikely, Harry resigned himself to his fate.
With a soft groan, he finally reached his climax. But he couldn't bask in the afterglow. Disgusted with himself, he went to wash his hands clean. It never felt right. His body would only ever accept the touch of the two others, and as of such, masturbation became something he loathed. It was a necessity after his dreams, but it seemed like a hated task, one he would rather forgo, if he had the choice.
With a sigh, Harry lowered himself on his bed again, ignoring the wet sheets underneath him, touching his bare arse. It would get him a beating from his uncle for sure, for 'indulging in such inhumane acts', but he couldn't care less. All he could care about was his future. Which was looking very grim and dark at the moment.
Rolling over on his side, Harry felt into a deep sleep almost immediately, troubled by his mind which was becoming darker and darker. Soon, he knew, he wasn't going to be able to stop it anymore. Hiding this side from the Light people was becoming harder and harder. No matter how supportive his two friends might be, he was worried about the two from his dreams. Because if they disapproved, Harry would rather kill himself than live. For they were the only reason he still lived. They were his only hope, no matter how slim of a chance they were.
Weeks had passed, and Harry stood once again in front of the scarlet train which would bring him towards his freedom for 10 months, Hogwarts. Smoke filled the train station, where parents were busy hugging their children or ushering them onto the train.
Looking around slowly, he let his eyes slide over the two regal and aristocratic men from his dreams. Letting his eyes linger for a moment, he took them in. Standing at 6"3, the aristocratic Italian Blaise Zabini was the tallest of the three. Walking slowly towards the train, he almost seemed to be gliding over the light stones of the station. His legs were long, and his strides were even longer. Silky black hair seemed to glow in the sun, giving it a dark blue look. Reaching down to his shoulders, they moved slowly with every step he took. Golden eyes were slowly looking across the station, having an uncaring and uninterested look over them. His strongly tanned skin was contrasting with the pale skin of his second dream guy.
Standing at 6", was the even more aristocratic Draco Malfoy, his school rival for the last 6 years. While he was notably shorter than Blaise, and painfully taller than himself, he had barely reached a poor 5"6, he seemed to think he was above everyone. Looking around in disdain, one could see the hatred for the rest of the people on the station spewing from his eyes.
His hatred was understandable, though. Because to this day, everyone believed him to be a Death Eater, even when he had so soundly denounced the Dark Mark, flipped Voldemort the bird, and had apparated out of Voldemort's mansion before the snake-face had been able to comprehend what had happened.
Blaise Zabini had done the exact same thing, only he had not left immediately. No, he had silently stood in front of Voldemort, easily ducking his curses, before he had said, solemnly: "You will get what you deserve. Death is not something to be meddled with." He had then apparated out of the mansion as well. After Harry had seen this in his dreams, he had been less wary of any activities Draco Malfoy might be doing around school at night. After all, it really wasn't his business to snoop around in matters that did not concern him anymore. If Draco had been a Death Eater, he would've continued looking for information to incriminate Draco with. But as he had rejected the Mark, Harry had stopped snooping. It was only fair, after all.
Back to the present, Harry was marveling on the fact that Draco's hair seemed to reflect light, giving him an angelic look. When, in fact, he was anything but angelic. His tall and lean body easily matched Blaise's strides, and they walked alongside each other, in perfect harmony. It hurt Harry to see that. How he longed to be besides those to men, to be loved and cared for by those men. But alas, it seemed like that just wasn't meant to be.
Harry sighed, and looked down. A hand dropped on his shoulder. Feeling the small hand, Harry plastered a fake smile on his face, and turned around to face Luna Lovegood, who was flanked by Neville Longbottom. Neville was quick to frown deeply at him, and snarl silently: "Drop that smile, Harry. We all know you don't mean it." Harry sighed sadly, and Luna glared at Neville for his lack of tact.
The war had changed both Luna and Neville, a lot. Luna had grown out of her seemingly insane state, and had grown into full Seer abilities. Not that she would ever reveal anything of the future to even her best friends. Something about not wanting to spoil the surprises, or that it was not her time to tell them. She had lost her dreamy and innocent exterior.
Nowadays, almost no one was innocent anymore. War had happened, and that showed on everyone their faces.
Neville had been hit hard by the war as well. Even though it had helped him out of his chubby, insecure state, he had now evolved into a sarcastic fellow, who said what needed to be said, who didn't dance around. He was, in a way, the complete opposite of Luna. Which made them one of the best couples around. They completely complemented each other.
"Don't be a tactless snorkack, Neville." Yes, even though Luna lost her dreamy attitude, she still loved her mysterious creatures very much. Neville snorted silently, but did look Harry with a lopsided grin, offering his apologies.
Harry waved them off. "I know, Neville. But they don't." When Harry said 'they', he waved around with one arm, indicating the reporters which were always present whenever he was outside of school. Wherever he set a foot, he was tailed by at least three reporters. Except around his home, which was entirely wizard free. Except for himself. But whenever he stepped a foot outside of Surrey, he would find himself being tailed. Losing the reporters in the busy muggle world was easy, but losing them in the less crowded and smaller wizarding world had proved to be nearly impossible.
So one can understand why Harry would be glad to leave for Hogwarts once again. He would be assured of having no reporters tailing him all the time, and he could drop the fake smiling. Only Luna and Neville often got to see the real Harry. Not the mask he was underneath the mask of fake smiles, but the real Harry, underneath even that.
They knew the Harry that was frequently crying in empty classrooms, hopelessly clinging to their robes. They knew the Harry that would tell them about his dreams, about the two men he longed for, the two men he needed, and the two men he wouldn't get. They knew that that Harry was slowly breaking down, and dying. They knew that if they weren't able to help Harry this year, all might be lost. For they were sure that Harry wouldn't be able to handle more. More of the abuse that his so-called family put him through, more of the ignorance of the two men he needed. If only Harry would tell them how they could help him, they would have already done so. But as he didn't seem prone to do that any time soon, they would just have to do it themselves.
Looking at each other, Luna and Neville nodded. They made it their new mission. They made it their mission to help Harry back up, and to make the two men understand the real Harry. They were going to do this the slow way, dropping hints here and there, and rarely dropping a downright nuclear bomb on them, if they were being exceptionally clueless. Neville and Luna swore to themselves, that they would help their surrogate brother up again. May God help them, because if Harry didn't make it, they would go on a warpath never seen before, hunting down every single person who had ever hurt Harry, even in the slightest ways.
"We should board the train." Harry whispered, and Luna's eyes snapped towards him. She knew that voice, that slight waver in his tone. He was about to have a mental breakdown. "Go find a compartment, Harry. We shall join you in a few moments." Harry nodded slightly, before firmly putting the mask of the fake smiles on his face, and walking towards the train, disappearing from sight.
Luna turned back towards Neville, and saw his eyes glowing in pure hatred. Hatred for everyone who had done their brother wrong. "We shall get them, Neville. But our first priority is our brother." Neville nodded, his jaw muscles tightening. Luna took a step toward Neville, and, standing on her tip-toes, gave him a peck on the lips. "Now, relax. We need to take care of Harry." Neville and Luna grasped the others hand, before they walked towards the compartment too.
If one had paid any attention to the two of them, they would have felt their magic crackling around them, snapping like silent whips, just waiting to be used, as angry as the humans were.
Disappearing into the train, they silently walked through the corridor. Younger year students quickly parted ways for them, as did the other seventh years after they took a good look at the emotionless face of Neville, and the serious look in the eyes of Luna. Only one couple did not scatter out of the way.
Neville and Luna stopped in front of Blaise and Draco, and the four stared at each other. Neville's jaw muscle tightened again, and Luna shot him a sharp look. After which she turned her attention to Draco. Letting Neville's hand go, she took a snap decision. With two long strides, she was in front of Draco, and glaring up at his surprised and curious silver eyes.
"You shall check your spells this year, or you will answer to me and Neville." Luna spoke in a flat tone, but promises flickered in her eyes. Studying her silently, Draco nodded. "Only if the same courtesy is given to us." Not waiting for an answer, he strolled past them, after Blaise who had already passed Neville and Luna.
Neville's hand darted out, and grabbed Draco by his arm. Tugging him close, he growled slowly: "Trust me, we will know of any harm done, Malfoy. And if we do find out about it, staring at your disemboweled godfather will seem like a fairytale." Draco narrowed his eyes slightly at the threat, not even wincing at the memory of having to see his godfather, Severus Snape, disemboweled in front of him. "That won't be necessary." Draco hissed back, before pulling his arm loose. Glaring at each other for a bit longer, they both then turned away, each pair walking their own paths again.
Luna took hold of Neville's hand again, and smiled. Part one was fulfilled. Draco and Blaise were now curious as to why they had confronted them like this, and would be looking for the answer to that curiosity, even if they did not notice it. Yes, everything had better go to plan. She'd hate to have to curse her brother's, hopefully, future men into the next century.
R&R