DISCLAIMER: I do not own Harry Potter.
A/N: Have you ever been so disturbed about your own story that you forget to put some details, you were meaning to, in? The story has now been REVISED.
Harry Potter is not your normal, everyday kid. He grew up knowing that there is a magical world, that is in a frail state about to crumble any second. He knew it was his fate to save that world and restore it to it's former glory. Better yet, restoring that world beyonds it former glory so any muggle would quake at the mere mention of magic.
The boy was raised to believe that muggles were varmin and only had it proven to him by watching the news.
It was his destiny to sacrifice himself so that the Dark Lord Voldemort would live and conquer the magical and enslave the muggle world.
He grew up listening to stories how he was to give his life for the return of the Dark Lord. He throroughly enjoyed these stories but he fretted because he knew that he somehow managed to make the Dark Lord vanish when he was a baby. He did not want that or something worse to happen. He remember asking his guardian if he could be killed by the primitive way, like a knife to his heart, so any spells that time will not backfire.
The boy did not know that his parents gave their lives to prevent Lord Voldemort from conquering the world. He did not know his given name. He did not know about a prophecy that said he had the power of vanquishing the Dark Lord. He knew, of course, about a prophecy that was made about how he was to help reinstate the Dark Lord.
He also did not know that he was missing from the magic world. That he should have been left on his Aunt and Uncle's doorstep twelve years ago. He heard of Hogwarts but had no desire to attend even if he did receive his letter. Why would he want to attend school if he was not expected to live and have a career? He never had any schooling which was fine with him because he looked forward to dying. His death would save the world.
He only would want to learn how to apparate so he could escape from those who thought they were helping him, if they ever came near him. He remembered for some reason that his guardian had been nervous about teaching him how to apparate. The boy didn't know why; each time him and his guardian got separated they would apparate to the same area. His guardian became a lot calmer knowing that the boy would never leave.
He never knew that he had a godfather by the name of Sirius Black. Nor did he know that Black and his friend, Remus Lupin, were leading a search party looking for him. The boy also didn't know that there were numerous people in that search party. Particulary a red headed family, one in a different timeline he would have became a member of that family.
The Weasleys never had a pet rat by the name of Scabbers.
The boy was raised by Peter Pettigrew who came to collect him after their Dark Lord vanished. The boy was constantly reminded that his death was supposed to strengthen the Dark Lord, not to cause him to fall. He was raised to be healthy, not mentally healthy though. The boy had black matted hair, very pale skin, and green eyes. The only thing he loved about his appearance was the scar that the Dark Lord gave him.
He relished being tortured. He would be put under the Cruciatus Curse, if he behaved himself; the Cruciatus Curse was a treat that he continously begged for. If he was punished for doing something wrong, which was very infrequent, he would just be ignored.
There had been times where he requested that Pettigrew would just continuously cast the Cruciatus Curse on him. He remembered Pettigrew looking at him with apprehension and said "No, boy. Cruciatus Curse should be an award. If I continously put you under, you'll lose your mind. You want to have your wits about you when you meet the Dark Lord, don't you? You want to to understand what is happening and finally that day you have been waiting for will come. You do want to be sane enough to be aware of your last moments, don't you?"
The boy had smiled at that memory. He smiled at remembering him puffing his chest out asking Pettigrew with a cheeky smile, "How long can I go under for without losing my mind?"
Pettigrew had chuckled and yell "CRUCIO".
The boy had been writhing on the ground with this teet gritting together. He was gritting his teeth because he did not want to yell. If he yelled, Pettigrew would take the curse off of him which the boy did not want. He yearned for the feeling of a thousand knives stabbing at him. He had yelled and was lying on the ground panting with sweat pouring off of him. He was smiling.
He wanted to be put under the curse with every opportunity he got for he knew his time was drawing nearer. Pettigrew and the boy had searched everywhere looking for Lord Voldemort. Even if Pettigrew allowed the boy to go to any school, he would not want to miss this for the world.
Instead of looking for Horcruxes, to be destroyed to the boy's horror, they were looking for the Dark Lord. They knew which ritual to perform and the boy was quite happy that he was going to be the faithful servant that restores Lord Voldemort.
The boy sincerely hoped that the Dark Lord would not kill him until he, himself, cast the Cruciatus Curse on the boy. The boy felt that he probably would not because the boy did not considered the curse to be a punishment. He probably would want to immediately kill the boy. Maybe, just maybe, the Dark Lord would curse him anyway as an award.
Oh, how he yearned to be cursed by the Dark Lord. He was sure that it would be so painful that he would be yelling in ecstacy and he could yell because he knew that the Dark Lord would not lift the curse when someone is yelling.
The day had came that the boy had been eagerly anticipating on it's arrival: his death day.
Ever since he was little, he looked forward to his birthday hoping that it would be the last one. There was a time when he wanted to die on the same day as his parents but he was worried because it, to him, was an unlucky day. So he requested to die on his birthday. He would die happily knowing that Lord Voldemort had killed him on his birthday and that he, The Potter Kid, revived his murderer on the day before his birthday.
The boy proudly lost his left arm in that Resurrection Ritual. For some reason, the had a headache then. His scar felt like it was going to bleed any second. The kid wished it had, because how cool would that be! They had gotten a filthy muggle to sacrifice his life for the Dark Lord. Pettigrew had explained everything to Lord Voldemort: how the boy wanted to die on his birthday and how the boy worried about a spell backfiring so he wanted to die by the primitive way. There were things explained that the boy did not know about nor cared about.
He and Pettigrew never celebrated his birthday in the traditional sense, that day was always set aside for torture.
His body had white scars all over it from where Pettigrew would drag a sharp knife. Sometimes Pettigrew would sharpen his Dark Arts skill by practicing on the kid. The boy had woken up that morning to a knife being pressed in between his ribs.
"Happy Death Day, Potter. Do you want me to press a little harder?" asked Pettigrew.
The boy smiled and nodded his head. He knew that Pettigrew would not mistakenly kill him. Pettigrew knew how much Harry wanted to die for their lord.
There was a time that the boy was too young to realize what was going on and Pettigrew had reservations on harming him. Pettigrew was too cowardly to protect his friends and for some reason reason he had once thought of trying to raise young Potter without the intent of bringing the Dark Lord back. He knew that his former friends were looking for him and were possibly going to kill him, and so he felt he was so far gone. The boy learned of Pettigrew's wrath but at the same time he learned to enjoyed it.
Pettigrew thought the boy was a masochist. There are marks on the boy's penis where Pettigrew had drag a knife over it. The boy didn't scream or flinch, but smiled. He had whispered "harder" and the tip had gone through his shaft.
Today was special. Today was the day he, to his excitement, was going to be thoroughly tortured, castrated, and then killed. The boy had been cleansed.
And the torture commenced.
The Dark Lord and the boy were wary about inviting Death Eaters to enjoy the viewing because the boy was afraid something was going to go wrong. He might live! So they agree to show off his corpse to the Death Eaters so no one can "save" the boy.
Pettigrew would use a spell then use the blade on the boy's naked flesh. Lord Voldemort, the boy was so excited that the resurrection worked, would only cast curses on him. Hi scar was starting to throb though.
Pettigrew had gotten out of the way when Lord Voldemort screamed "CRRRUCCCIO!"
It was so wonderful. The boy had heard about the blood-traitors, the Longbottoms, and felt this curse was wasted upon them. He laughed happily as he was feeling pain and thinking how those two were driven insane. If the boy had to choose what curse to be placed on him , any time, it would be the Cruciatus Curse; it was his favorite curse. He never learned magic nor had any interest in protecting himself from that curse.
"Wormtail! What have you done to this kid? He enjoys being tortured." smiled Lord Voldemort.
The boy responded, "My lord, I exist to die for you. Pain makes me happy. It makes me closer to my goal." He had sighed out of exhaustion and content.
Lord Voldemort had placed an Ear-shrivelling Curse on the boy making him not knowing what is coming next. The boy thought his head was going to explode. He was then placed a Bone-Breaking Curse on each of the boy's remainding limbs. After that he placed him on the Jelly-Leg Curse.
The boy was screaming in pain. He had wished that Lord Voldemort raised him. He knew he would have had a short life but he should have not lived to see his second birthday let alone seeing his thirteenth birthday. But this year was great! Instead of having a disappointment that he was going to live and that they were not able to resurrect the Dark Lord, he was going to die and the world was going to be a better place.
"CRUCIO"
"WWRRHHRRROOOOWWRRROOOWWHHHRRRROOOOWWHW! YRRRRYEEAAAARRRRRRAAAAAAAAAARRR!AWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEERRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!" he thrashed in pain. Then he started filling stinging; while he was writhing to the Cruciatus Curse, Pettigrew had conjured a whip and was flogging him. He was unaware that he was having an erection until he exploded in an orgasm.
"He would have made an interesting lover if he had lived that long." smirked Lord Voldemort.
The boy actually wouldn't mind if the Dark Lord raped him. Although, he did not think it would be considered rape if he is willing. As well as that, he doubt Lord Voldemort would touch his filthy half-blood flesh that should be destroyed and, to the boy's excitement, will be.
Voldemort was casting every dark spell he could think of without killing Potter. He cast some pointless ones like the Sponge-Knees Curse despites the boy already having two broken legs. The boy looked like he had the common cold when Lord Voldemort had placed him under the Conjunctivis Curse and the Curse of the Bogies.
Lord Voldemort gave a viscous smile and said "We must purify Potter, before he meets his parents. SLUGULUS ERUCTO!"
The boy had not eaten; he always purged on his birthday. So he was feeling the nice burning sensation of stomach acid coming up with snails. He had curiously wondered if he would choke to death if Lord Voldemort cast the Cruciatus Curse on him.
As he was throwing up, Lord Voldemort demanded that he lie down. He complied but had to have his head up. All of the sudden the boy heard "SECTUMSEMPRA!" and felt his front being cut. It was an interesting sight to him that each time he was throwing up, blood was spurting up from his chest and stomach.
Lord Voldemort smirked and mended the boy's front. He kept the Slug-Vomiting Charm, the Curse of the Bogies, and the Conjunctivis Curse on Harry.
"Look at the time, Wormtail. It's past breakfast and lunch. Why don't we grab something to eat? We'll eat a cake in young Potter's memory." smiled Lord Voldemort.
"Why don't we heal Potter's legs, first? He is not a flight risk." said Pettigrew.
"CRUCIO!" yelled Lord Voldemort, "I decide whether his legs get mended or not! Potter, we will be back sometime."
The boy's eyes had swollen shut, he couldn't hear, throwing up mucous and slugs, incapable of moving, he was dizzy, but his felt like it no longer was going to explode. As birthdays go, this was the best one. He was looking forward to whatever Lord Voldemort dishes out. He actually hope that it was the Entrail-Expelling Curse. He knew he look as disgusting as his half-blood status and hoped that, after he was tortured, to get cleaned up before he died. He didn't know whether Lord Voldemort would accept that request. Harry didn't even know if the Dark Lord would be plunging a knife in his heart or send a Killing Curse his way. He sincerely hoped for the knife because he would be devastated if the Dark Lord vanishes again.
The boy didn't know how long had it been since Pettigrew and the Dark Lord departed for Lunch. He hoped they came back soon so he can die today. He didn't know if the Dark Lord intended him to die from puking his guts out; He was getting acid-reflux and enjoying a sore throat. He was trying to determine whether this would be how he would like to die, having these curses on him for a while unil his body just give out. He actually likes the idea of the Dark Lord plunging a knife in his chest. It was more resolute.
The boy was reflecting on his pitiful life. He never learned how to read. What good would it do him? He never went to school or hang out with children of his own age. He remembered asking Pettigrew if he could play with a group of kids. Pettigrew gave him a lesson on betrayal- everyone is capable of betraying you but you will not get hurt if you do not get attached to other people. One thing led to another and at a young age, he became morbid and interested in dying. He backed off from trying to commit suicide so the Dark Lord can do the honors. Pettigrew and him lived in all sorts of places looking for the Dark Lord. They skirted away from any human and the boy had to work on not being seen in case someone tries to strike up a conversation with him. He could guess how the conversation would be like: "What is your name?" "Potter." "No, everyone is given at least one or two names, so what is yours?" He'll miss the adventure as well as the torture but he was not going miss trying to avoid humans.
He was masturbating as he reflected on his life hoping that the Dark Lord allows him to be fully aware of his death. For now, he can not see nor hear but touch. Pettigrew and him had their routines as he grew up. He didn't have any education or friendship but he would not trade this childhood in for the world. He was used in some rituals in trying to find the Dark Lord as well as testing potions. He would lay naked on the floor or table top supplementing Pettigrew's ingredients. Sometimes, he had a finger or toe cut off, his hair ripped from the skull, and his flesh was cut off. Sometimes Pettigrew would joke with him about getting a big steak knife and slicing the boy's throat, hanging Potter upside down to drain, and obtain his organs for potions. Pettigrew had thought it was a joke and had the blade to the boy's throat. The boy had leant into the the knife.
"Now, now, Potter. That was joke. You are to die at the hands of Lord Voldemort. After he is done with I might be able to use your organs for potion ingredients. Maybe we can preserve your heart and use it for a dark potion." Pettigrew was not a potioneer but he could think ahead and knew what could be used in for the future.
The boy was trying, as he was throwing up, to determine if he wanted his throat to be slashed or the knife plunged into his chest. Everybody would be thankful that he'll be dead soo so he was the only one who cared what method Lord Voldemort would used.
His vision cleared, he stopped throwing up slugs, he can breathe clearly and he was not dizzy. He actually thought, for a brief moment, that he had died until he realized that Lord Voldemort and Pettigrew came back. Then his head exploded with with pain being so near his lord. His member hardened once he was the big knife in Pettigrew hands. Lord Voldemort had a big box in his arms. The boy was somewhat curious to know what was inside that box.
"Lie down" Lord Voldemort quietly demanded.
The boy happily complied.
Candles. The Dark Lord had a box of candles. He ha lit a few and pour wax on the boy's front. The nice hot wax burned the boy's flesh like the filth that the boy is. He grazed the boy with the flame a couple of times.
Pettigrew told him to prop himself up on his elbows which he did.
Pettigrew was stroking the boy's member which sprang to attention with the big steak knife. He grabbed the member and place the blade between the boy's pelvis and balls. The boy was going to be emasculated.
"Stop." said Lord Voldemort. The boy felt a little disappointed; he was looking forward to watching his balls get cut off with no release of pain by yelling. He wanted to prove that he was strong enough to watch and savor in the pain.
"Clean him with a soapy sponge and water. " The Dark Lord conjured a bucket full of water, soap, and sponge, "Have him drink plenty of water. Do not give him any food though. Stand up." commanded Lord Voldemort. The Dark Lord had mended the boy's legs. The boy stood to attention with penis erect in hopes that would get sheered of by his lord.
"Potter, are you ready to die for me? To transfer your magical powers to me so I can be twice as powerful and help save the magical world? " The boy nodded reverently and replied, "Yes, my lord."
"You are to be cleansed and robed to come over to the pentagram that I have set up in the dirt clearing. Have you heard of Eroto-comatose lucidity? You are a virgin, aren't you? Even better. The Eroto-comatose lucidity is a sexual ritual, some use it to commune to their feeble gods. There are some, though, like me, who can use it as vampirism, to transfer power from you to me. If you were a filthy muggle, you surely would die in this ritual. Thankfully, you are not so I can almost bring you to the brink of death without killing you. I will have all your powers and you will have been raped to acheive that end. Once we are finish, I will have Wormtail to bathe you once more. I can see how my powers have doubled by using the Cruciatus Curse on you for the last time. I will then take you to Godric's Hollow to your parents' grave. You will be emasculated, dissected, and have your organs harvest for potion ingredients. By that time, you will haved died. I will leave your corpse on your parents' grave and summon the Death Eaters to see your wonderous sacrifice. After they see you, and fully understand what has been done, I will send the Dark Mark to the sky so that everyone could see your corpse basking in the green light." smiled the Dark Lord.
The boy had the biggest smile on his face; he had never been so happy. Today is the day he is finally going to die on his birthday. He was so proud on how he was going to contribute to wizarding society as well as his lord actually touching his filthy self.
The boy had been sponged off and eagerly exited out of Riddle Manor and going beyond the Riddle Graveyard. The sun was just setting and on the grown drawn was an upside down star. He was ordered to wait and then, being unclothed, lay down on the star.
The boy waited and was excited when the pentagram and the circle caught on fire scorching the earth. The flames were gone. If the boy had any normal upbringing, he would have thought what happened was the Dark Lord set aflame to gun powder. The boy was taught not to have an inquistive mind and he was only living to be a sacrfice. For some reason, he felt the sooner he fulfilled his destiny the better.
"I have to nail your remaining limbs to each point of the star so you are being coerced to do this against your will." said the Dark Lord.
"Can I watch?" the boy asked with a smile of morbid curiousity.
"No, because that implies you are willing, which it would no longer be rape." the Dark Lord smiled and said, "It would have been interesting to have you as a lover but I'm going to treat you like the filthy half-blood you are, with mudblood running in your veins, and be delighted in watching you die for me."
So the boy laid down with his remaining limbs stretched to each point of the star. 'It was a lovely day for this,' thought the boy looking at the pink sky. He remembered Pettigrew talking about rituals before but those rituals were trying to revive the Dark Lord so he did not hear about this Eroto- comatose lucidity. When Pettigrew was sponging him off he said that ritual is about getting the ritualist, the boy, to be so exhausted at sex that he becomes sleepy and either goes into a deep sleep or communes to his lord. There will be no penetrable sex making the boy confused about the definition of rape. Pettigrew decided it was better to ignore the kid. The boy observed that he was going to be raped by his lord so what is the point in communing with him. Sometimes, to Pettigrew's chagrin, in that dormant mind laid an inquiring mind. Pettigrew explained that the Dark Lord was going to do the riskier version which is vampirism. This allows for the Dark Lord to obtain the boy's powers. The boy may fall asleep but only because he is becoming too weak and on the verge of death. But the boy is not a muggle and will only be losing his magical powers, more than likely he would be sleeping.
"What are you doing?" asked both The Dark Lord and Pettigrew. The boy was fighting them.
"Well, if you are going to rape me, shouldn't I be protesting? It is not rape if it is conscensual" grunted the boy as he was struggling against them as the Dark Lord was trying to nail his foot to the point.
Pettigrew had a shocked, bewildered expression on his face. He did not expect Potter to be putting up a fight. When he first told the boy about his fate, the boy was understandably frightened like all boys would be if they were told it was their destiny to be killed for the Dark Lord. The kid was told that it was almost like an honor killing and that he would be reunited with his parents. Once he died, his parents will give him a name. This actually had more of a shocking effect that Pettigrew intended; the kid, with every opportunity he could get, was attempting to kill himself that Pettigrew had to tell him that his fate was to die by the hands of the Dark Lord.
"Grab his other leg, Pettigrew!" growled Lord Voldemort. Pettigrew complied and was observing the boy writhing on the ground attempting to escape. If anyone didn't know any better they would think that the boy did not want this to happen. Until he noticed the boy's crotch; if the kid were wearing underwear, it would have looked like he had a chicken platter between his legs.
"Finally!" said the Dark Lord. Potter was nailed to the ground. For someone who was supposedly protesting he did not yell for help. Another reason why everyone came to the quiet understanding that the boy indeed wanted this to occur. He did not scream in pain when he was nailed down but he had a crazy smile plastered to his face.
The Dark Lord magically lit each tip of the upside down star that now how had a thirteen year old boy bound on to it. The candles multiplied that, now, the boy was lying in the inflamed circle.
The boy was sweating and heaving from the struggle he was pretending to have. He was hammered to the ground but he was still fighting to get lose. Pettigrew latered asked the boy about this and the boy happily responded that the magic might not work if it felt that the boy was enjoying the idea of getting raped.
The Dark Lord disrobed and Potter's green eyes popped out in mock terror but his member was standing proud. The boy's heart was pounding because he knew that this was going to be weird even with him accepting this fate but he felt that his heart wanted to put a lifetime in this moment for it knew that it will be silenced soon. The boy smiled at this thought.
The Dark Lord was hovering over him and ghosting his breath on the boy's skin. The boy's member was standing to attention even though he was still fighting to be free. He would admit he was scare of intimacy. He had never received a hug before. Instead he would be ignored for a punishment but get crucioed as an award. He wouldn't have it any other way but he was still uncomfortable at the idea of sex. He took a comforting thought that this was supposed to be rape, not sex. So anything he mistakes for intimacy would be degration and meaningless. The Dark Lord was now moving his tongue over him. It was a weird sensation and he was trying to tell his mind to relax, enjoy the humiliation and pain, and this was only leading to his death but he was fighting harder.
The Dark Lord was roughly handling the boy and the boy would feel the painful sensation of the Dark Lord baring his teeth on the boy's flesh. He was not going to scream and tried not to moan. The transference might not work if it was thought that he was enjoying himself. He sort of how much power can be drained from a willing ritualist than a fighting ristualist. The boy was still fighting hard even though he felt that the ritualist who was more compliant would give out more power. He was eyeing the Dark Lord's bloody mouth and failed to see the knife in his hands until the Dark Lord was pushing the tip against the boy's stomach like he was going to impale him. The boy thought he was going to lose control and moan in ecstacy but his member exploded in orgasm. The Dark Lord was careful to yank the knife away. The Dark Lord started to cut the boy's arm and licking the wound. This was the first of many cuts to the boy. Some were shallow but there were some that were deep enough to cause the boy to worry that the Dark Lord might be damaging good potion ingredients. All the cuts were licked clean.
Everything was going hazy for the boy. He was not aware that he was glowing and his power was being sucked in by the Dark Lord. He was panting but he was still tryng to remain awake; he wanted to be aware of what is happening when the Dark Lord kills him even though in the back of his mind was saying to fully submit to the Dark Lord he needed to fall into a coma-like state. He thought his heart was going to burst of both fear and excitement.
The Dark Lord locked his red eyes on to the boy's as he was ghosting the kid's lips. He was like a dementor sucking a victim's soul. The boy's powers were coming off in waves and his mouth was an easy opening to get those powers. He would not and did not kiss Potter. A major part of this ritual is the idea of being teased. His lips were so close to Potter's that they could have been battling for each others' tongues any second but that was not the case. He sharply moved his head away from the boy and sank his teeth hard into the boy's neck. He hoped that he bit down on the boy's jugular. The boy was struggling from smiling in the pain. He didn't want to scream and call attention to what is happening. He didn't want to admit it because this was suppose to be rape he was enjoying himself. He actually wondered if the after-life had rape, he would gladly be the victim any time.
The boy was arching his chest as the Dark Lord was moving his head back. He noticed that the Dark Lord was starting to glow. His powers being handed over to the Dark Lord maybe? The Dark Lord's tip of the tongue was tracing Potter's chest down to the boy's stomach and finally lapping the kid's penis.
The boy was never taught that he had personal rights. He was never taught to yell in "FIRE" in the intances of someone invading him. His parents may have taught him that but they did not expect him to live past the age of two. He should have died and his parents would have his siblings and name them. He was told that his parents had somehow died but before they died he was handed off to Pettigrew because, like Pettigrew once said about naming your food, they were afraid of getting attached. Pettigrew sometimes showed fear, apprehensive, and anger but the boy knew that the man never cared for him and he was only to be raised to be sacrificed. He was given the analogy of slaughter animals. If it is okay to eat slaughter animals, why is not okay to be a human sacrifice?
The boy noticed that there was a sting sensation near his crotch. He tilted his head forward and realized he was going to be castrated. He started wiggling with more fervor attempts from this happening because he was suppose to be a rape victim. The knife only dug in deeper between his pelvis and balls. He was feeling this searing pain. He did not know if he should gyrate his pelvis in time with the knife.
He was going to enjoy being castrated but decided he should struggle a little harder and try to get his member away from the knife. This was only to allow for the time to go slower.
He was watching his penis in amazement standing erect as it enjoys the idea of parting from his body. It only became harder in the Dark Lord's grasp.
The boy would have agreed with their assessment that he was a masochist if he thought a sexual relationship was important. He never had the chance to enter in any of the normal phases like girls are gross but maybe this one is not all together bad. So he was perfectly content with being castrated. The knife was midway now. He actually was looking forward to seeing how he looked like without his balls. The pain was enjoyable although he felt a passing fainting spell.
He didn't need any sex organs; he felt any procreation should be the result of rape, not love. Love is a weakness. He was not a product of love because he felt his parents looked at him as a worthy sacrifice to strenghten Lord Voldemort. His parents did love each other though and Pettigrew told him would love their first born when he makes this sacrifice.
They had never gave him a name because of this. He remembered being four years old and asking Pettigrew about his name. Pettigrew responded with, "Do you name your food? No. Potter, your parents never bothered to give you a name. Before you were born, the Dark Lord wanted a human sacrifice. A couple's first born child to strengthen the Dark Lord. So all the couples in the Wizarding World were having sex in hopes that their first born would be that sacrifice. James and Lily Potter got lucky when the Dark Lord announced that you were going to be sacrificed. The rejoiced for their baby was going to strengthen their lord and help the Wizarding World.
His balls were pulling away from his body as he was thinking his parents were probably disapointed in him for living this long and not getting Lord Vorldemort resurrected sooner.
The magical community could colllapse because the boy did not look hard enough. Really, the boy did not want to live to see his fifth birthday let alone his thirteenth. As soon he heard about his destiny, he was eager to complete it so he can die. He had a good life. One without trouble because everything was spelled out for him. He was the kid who was going to save the magical community by resurrecting the Dark Lord.
He tilted his body away from the Dark Lord in hopes of slowing down his castration. He saw the Dark Lord smirk and start licking the blood from his oozing member. He felt a little of teeth. The Dark Lord was starting to go up and away from the boy's penis. He leaned down and bit hard into Potter's flesh stomach. He licked the bloody teethmarks. The boy accidentally moan causing the Dark Lord to laugh. "How do you like this?" as the Dark Lord grabbed the kid's penis and started pulling hard. Potter accidentally moaned again and was writhing against the Dark Lord's hand.
More cuts and licks were added to the boy's body. The Dark Lord was glowing even more brighter. Then he decided this was it, time to bring the boy to a climax. The boy was in some sort of haze and sometimes he come to more of wakefulness. But this time he was going to fall in a temporary coma.
The Dark Lord grabbed the boy's penis and started to carve away again. The boy had thrown back his head because his peripheral vision was getting dark. He looked back at the Dark Lord and noticed that his balls were coming away from his body. They were now gone. He looked down at his bloody crotch and his stupor thought 'is this was women's crotches look like?'
The Dark Lord was using a candle flame to cauterize the wound. It took all the boy had to prevent himself from shrieking in pain.
He eyed the Dark Lord holding his penis and balls. The Dark Lord had a jar with him but he was making sure that the kid was watching. He pulled out a knife and started slicing the young boy's penis.
The Dark Lord was excreting the semen from the kid's penis and placing it in the kid's mouth for him to swallow. The boy blacked out. The last he remembered the Dark Lord was breathing in his body, coming at a rest at his mouth. The candles were winking friendly at him as he drift off into a deep sleep.
The boy woke up realizing that the moon was out and Pettigrew was getting him ready for that night by sponging him off with soapy water. He did not realize how dirty and sooty, it was dirt on top of grime, he became by being raped on dirt. He jolted when he heard the Pettigrew apologizing to him. Why should anyone be apologizing? They should be congratulating him! Until he realized, that Pettigrew was making him throw up. "To get rid of any chyme that might be left in there. Also, please take a moment to empty your bowels and bladder."
The boy was weak at his legs from throwing up, losing his powers, and so much blood. He was taken inside for one last torture session.
The Cruciatus Curse was ten times worse. The boy felt that he could handle it in ten minutes before, but now he knew he would lose his sanity if he was put under that amount of time. He felt like knives were actually going through him, not stopping like before, as he writhing uncontrollably on the floor. This was not an act.
"CRUCIO!" screamed the Dark Lord. The boy was scraping his teeth in attempt not to scream so it could be more painful at the Dark Lord's ire of not being able to torture this thirteen year old boy.
The boy started laughing menacaly in a long scream. The curse finally had been lifted and he heard "have you had enough?"
"NEVER!" screamed the boy. If this was his last torture session he wanted to be tortured for all he is worth. He was writhing in pain and the Dark Lord had graciously allowed Pettigrew to kick the boy in the stomach for added pain. The potion ingredients would only be bruised but not damaged.
He was sweating and heaving his breath when he heard "Ready to die, Potter?"
"Like always.", smiled the boy and then he started twitching from another Cruciatus Curse.
The Dark Lord lifted the curse and allowed Pettigrew to clean Potter for one last time. The kid was still smiling. The Dark Lord, like the kid, wanted to get this over with in case something happens and stops Potter from dying. Or he would consent to allow Potter to slowly and painfully die for years until he finally died at the hands of his torturer. The Dark Lord could teach what it means to be raped and maybe do that ritual again. Due to Potter being a muggle now he would easily die.
They were walking back towards the clearing. Ironically, the pentagram was set just outside the wards so anyone who could prevent the torturing from happening could. The Dark Lord, Pettigrew, and the boy apparated to Godric's Hollow.
It was now around 10:45 pm at night so hardly anyone would be in the graveyard.
To Pettigrew's happiness, the kid did not see the statue of him and his parents. The kid may have seen but felt that the town was honoring his sacrifice. The kid found his parents' grave and smiled, "this is where I want to die."
"Lay down, then" ordered the Dark Lord.
The boy laid down with the top of his head resting at the tombstone.
The Dark Lord grabbed the knife and asked for Potter to stick his tongue out. He then proceed to cut the boy tongue out. 'He is really intelligent. In case I decide I don't want to die I can't say anything to stop him.' thought the kid, 'but he'll be needing my vocal chords soon.' He was enjoying the pain and the wound was cauterized. The tongue was placed in another jar. So he had added to the potion store two items: his penis and his tongue. The Dark Lord was setting work to pull out all thirty-two teeth. This was incredibly painful because the boy hadn't had any loose teeth in a while. He wished the Dark Lord allowed Pettigrew to kick him in the mouth instead of the stomach.
Every last tooth was pulled out and placed in its own jar. The Dark Lord tugged at the boy's ears and proceeded in cutting them off. They were now in a jar by themselves. "I will not do your eyes until after your dead. Although, I think blindness would add to the thrill." whispered the Dark Lord.
He proceeded to get scissors and gave the boy a close trim. All of the boy's messy black hair was in a jar. He couldn't help to think what potions would be needing his hair. He has heard of the Polyjuice Potion but he didn't anyone would want to drink his hair in the condition he is in now. After he would die, the Dark Lord would make a Kapala or a skullcap from Potter's skull. Many Death Eaters would witness the Dark Lord using the Kapala in a ritual for him to achieve a transcendental state of thought and mind with the shortest time possible as well as drink wine from it.
Lord Voldemort was now hacking away at the kid's nose. That was place in a small vial. The boy wondered how long it was going to take before he dies and how much he will fill the jars before doing so. The Dark Lord had now plucked the kid's eyebrows and eyelashes that they were in the container of their own as the kid's eyes start to water. The nails were next. Potter was mildly curious if the Dark Lord would try to get his body hair when he started feeling pain in his hand. The Dark Lord had chosen to cut off his wrist. "Now for bothof your arms. You are doing humanity a service, Potter." breathed the Dark Lord.
The boy couldn't figure out how to stifle his scream because he no longer had a tongue to bite down on as well as teeth to grit down on. He was doing some form of charade to indicate that he needed help and going like "haaa...hehhhe...hhaaaaaahhhhh..." Pettigrew realized what was happenning so he silenced the boy with a spell as the Dark Lord was hacking at the kid's shoulder. The boy's eyes were popping out as his mouth was open very wide for a silent scream. The arms were placed in big jars of their own. Later the veins may be taken out of each appendage.
The feet came next as well as the legs. The kid was fighting from going out in shock. His eyes nearly rolled back in his head when the Dark Lord used his wand to cut from the stomach to the clavicle and exposed all of Potters organs. The boy did not know how long his body could last being exposed to the air. It was a horribly, delightful stinging sensation.
The Dark Lord proceeded to cut out the boy's organs. His kidneys were in a jar together. His small intestines and large intestines were divided and placed in prospective jars. His liver and pancrease came next along with his gallbladder. His heart started beating rapidly. He wanted to be aware of it being cut out that he was trying and failing to motion to the Dark Lord that he wanted his heart to go next. He was starting to get very cold. He felt the blood rushing to his head.
The Dark Lord took out the boy's stomach and then he cut the aorta arch, pulmonary arteries, superior and inferior vena cava, and pulmonary veins. The boy had the strangest sensation of the Dark Lord holding his heart outside of his body. The Dark Lord was giving him a curious look that the boy interpret of him wondering how long is it for the kid to die.
The Dark Lord then proceeded to take out the boy's lungs. Now the boy was struggling for breath and was unable to breathe. He was going to aphixiate. The boy was glad that he was able to see the Dark Lord take his heart out before he died. He was altogether sure that other body parts would be harvested as soon as he was dead. The Potter kid saved the Wizarding World and with that he died.
"Severus?" asked Albus Dumbledore concerned for his spy.
The man has been violently ill from attending that last Death Eaters meeting that he was worried what may have caused this man, who normally has a strong stomach, to be throwing up non-stop and looking like something horribly wrong occurred.
Severus Snape looked around him to see the Order's crowd staring at him with either looks of concern or of horror. The Weasleys were notably absent from the ranks. Pity, because they had been so much of Dumbledore's supporters that they do not know what is going to happen now to the Wizarding World. Harry Potter's supposedly second year at Hogwarts had ended. There was a monster that had been petrifying muggleborns and some random students. Severus did not know if Hogwarts was going to be open next year. The monster had dragged the youngest Weasley inside its chamber while the governors ordered Dumbledore to stay away. None of them were able to find the chamber and he had given the bad news that a younger Lord Voldemort is now terrorizing the Wizarding World. He knew that Ginny Weasley was dead and that the Weasleys had withdrawn from that school. All the kids may need to go to a different school now. The Wizarding World is doomed.
His eyes fell on both Remus Lupin and Sirius Black. They had been searching for Harry Potter all these years. Severus now knew why the owls couldn't find the kid to give him his letter for Hogwarts. The kid had to acknowledge that he was Harry Potter which he didn't because he was told he was never been given a name. He was infrequently called by his surname. It was too late. It was too late even if they had found Harry Potter by his first year. The boy would have been upset if he had learned what his fate really was. He could imagine Potter happily taking a leap off of the Astronomy Tower. To think that Severus Snape was relieved when everyone couldn't find Potter so he didn't have to look at the ghost of Potter's father with Lily's eyes.
He wasn't aware that he muttering 'it is too late' causing the members of the Order to worry even more.
"Severus!" snapped Albus.
"It's too late. I'm sorry, it's too late. I...I...Um...Uh...Aah...I have transfigured his cor-body into this bone, " said Severus, causing more concern because he use to be so eloquent, handing Sirius Black a bone, "Please, do not transfigure it back! I- I'm sorry. " The corpse did not bear any resemblance to Harry Potter. The lightning bolt scar, the hand movement on how to cast the Killing Curse, must have been left on Harry Potter's forehead when he first met the Dark Lord. Nothing identify the bone to Potter but Severus had viewed Potter's memories with his own eyes.
Albus Dumbledore looked incredibly frail now. He understood the implications even if it was taking Sirius Black a little longer to get there because of reeling from shock of being handed a bone and an apology. Remus Lupin had a look of devastation.
Severus had an incredible urge to tell Albus that he quit and there was no way they could save the Wizarding World. Harry Potter thought he was saving it but was sealing it's doomed fate. Years from now, no one would be allowed to procreate with any Muggle-borns. Fresh blood would not be entering the Wizarding World so purebloods will be producing squibs refusing to see that they did something wrong by looking at blood statuses.
It was surprising that the Dark Lord rose again as his sixteen year old self using a defenseless first year in doing so but now it was a greater shock to find out that Potter gave his life to resurrect the Dark Lord that came after James and Lily Potter. All the Death Eaters were in a panic when they apparated to Godric's Hollow expecting the young Dark Lord. Severus could feel the waves of panic coming off his fellow Death Eater's as they were realizing the implications of having two Dark Lords. The younger Dark Lord had made his appearance at the meeting when it was told that he existed. To be truthful, Severus, if not any of the other Death Eaters, was hoping that the Dark Lords would decide only one has to exist and battle it out. Instead, to the shock of everyone, the older Dark Lord greeted his younger self as a son. The younger version did not look repulsed or scared but merely thrilled, since they are one of the same, that another copy of him exists and he could learn loads from his elder self. Yet that was not the shocking thing as compared to the state of Harry Potter's body or learning that the kid wanted to die to resurrect the Dark Lord.
Severus looked around, again. He was never going to show them the collection of memories that came from Harry Potter on the night he died. He didn't care however Dumbledore tries; he was never going to get them. Severus was going to practice Occlumency even more to get those memories out of his head so he can get some sleep.
No one should see their best friend's son look at his death as a sacrifice nor seeing that said son enjoy the idea of it as much.
No one, especially Severus.
But I have promises to keep, and miles to go before I sleep.
He was not going to rest until Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, and him avenged the deaths of James, Lily, and Harry Potter.