Asì Fue Que…

(And so it was that…)

Author: Felicity Gemfiar

Pairing: Voldemort and Dursley Family

Rating: R/NC-17

Disclaimer: All characters, names, associations, and the world of Hogwarts belong to J.K. Rowling and her corporate people. This is purely for entertainment purposes with no revenue attempting to be generated.

WARNING: This fic is rather disturbing. It contains rape and grotesque imagery. I do not intend to glorify the crime of rape in any way, nor do I support such action. If you have difficulty handling such adult content in a mature manner, please do not continue. This is your warning, and please, no flames: you have this notice before it even starts.

It was a regular day, just like the Dursley's loved. Nothing special, nothing out of the ordinary, just a plain old Saturday, even Dudley was home.

Petunia had just taken the roast from the oven, steaming and crackling. It was a thing of beauty if she did say so herself.

"Vernon, Dudley, dinner!"

This meal, a meal of perfection: it was like the fifties again in the Dursley household. Petunia untied her floral apron and hung it on the peg before she stood in her skirt and heels by the table.

Dudley came in first, strutting like he always did, placing a huge proud smile on his father's face, who followed behind.

"Yes, you've really outdone yourself, dear." Uncle Vernon rasped as he kissed his wife on the cheek. Dudley took his seat, and his parents a few moments later.

Aunt Petunia grasped the ivy bowl of mashed potatoes and passed it around the table, the other dishes soon along the same path.

"How was your day, Vernon?" Petunia began.

It was always like that. Petunia would ask about Vernon's day, taking keen interest in the drill business while Dudley spooned serving after serving into his bubbly face. And thusly the meal passed, just as it always did: boring and as normal as the rain.

"Good evening." The deep rumble of a stranger shattered the monotony of Number Four Privet Drive.

The three occupants stared open-mouthed at the man in a hooded black cloak in the doorway of their kitchen. They were all too paralyzed with fear from the presence that radiated off him in waves.

The face under the hood smiled in complete pleasure at the expressions of terror on the faces before him. Non-chalantly, he extended his hand from his sleeve.

"'e's go' a wan'." Dudley managed to squeak from his mouth full of potatoes and beef.

"Indeed." Came the cold reply.

Before any of the Dursleys knew what happened, Voldemort placed a silence charm on the house and blasted the table away. The resounding screams were like music to his ears as Petunia raced in front of Dudley.

"Do not be frightened," he hissed from the shadows that obscured his face, "be terrified." He laughed as Petunia shrieked, and then bound and gagged all three of them to the wall.

Chuckling, Voldemort raised his hood and unclasped his cloak, reveling the truth of his hideous form clad in impeccable robes of black and greem. Three sets of eyes widened in shock and horror.

"Mobilious Corpus." He pointed to Aunt Petunia's body, which moved rom the wall and plopped on the floor.

"Oh, just a moment, my dear," Voldemort taunted and walked over to Uncle Vernon. "We can't have you… blocking this out."

An extreme grin spread across his features as Voldemort brought up his wand. Uncle Vernon was screaming in pain as blood poured from his eyes. The bastard cut off his eyelids.

Dudley closed his own eyes and turned his face away from the sight of his squealing father. The monster before him just laughed and glided to the pale woman on the floor.

A swish of his wand and a table appeared, bringing Petunia to hip height. A flick of the rod brought Petunia's dress to her waist and wrists above her head. Voldemort began to unfasten his robes and release his trousers.

Screaming always did manage to make his cock ache. Petunia, however, was gagged—not quite his usual style—so he directed his wand and freed the gag, rejoicing in the hair curling voice that emanated from her lips. Another movement and her cotton panties disappeared exposing her uncompromisingly.

Disrobing completely, Voldemort settled between the magically spread thighs of the terrified woman. He grinned like a wild ape and grabbed his prick.

Stroking roughly and at irregular intervals, Voldemort became rock solid and wholly ready to make her bleed. Bending forward, he spit on his shaft and her vulnerable entrance.

The screaming soon halted and became body-wrenching sobs as Mrs. Dursley began to cry. Voldemort looked up at her with pity in his eyes.

"Don't worry, it'll only hurt the first time." And he slammed his cock deep within her.

The immense pleasure of the dry and unwilling cunt nearly unmanned him, but he gained control of his body and pounded relentlessly into her. He didn't mind the whimper when he tore her flesh, or the screeching when he continued to brush against that tender spot.

Vernon Dursley watched as his wife was brutally raped, blood streaming from the apex of her thighs. His fury and fear intensified as he watched her cry in both pain, sorrow and terror.

Dudley couldn't bear to attend to the scene, shutting out all images and sounds, closing himself off to the world. Voldemort looked on with glee as he destroyed this family.

The anguish plastered on each of their faces, combined with the screams and sensations around his cock was too much, and Voldemort spilled his seed into the muggle, voicing his pleasure.

Pulling out, he muttered the cleaning spell to erase the blood and come from his body. The woman still lay sobbing while he replaced his trousers.

He returned to the two males against the wall and took note of the tears mixed with crimson on the man's cheeks. The boy, however, wasn't watching.

"My son, I was just about to have mercy on your dear mother," a new smile played merrily on his lips, "but now, she must be pleasured more."

Voldemort drew Dudley from the wall and transfigured his trousers and boxers away. Even at the grotesque nature of events, Dudders was still half hard. Panicking, the boy looked back to his father, whose eyes were watering like cascades, but the bleeding had stopped. Thank god for small miracles.

"Now, dear boy, look lively." Voldemort grinned and took the flesh in his hand, bringing it reluctantly to attention.

Poked in the back, Dudley moved to where his mother's head rest, sobs still shaking her body. Voldemort spelled Petunia into a crouching position, blood slowly dripping onto the table. Carefully, he positioned the boy at his mother's mouth.

"Now, suck." He commanded.

Fresh tears spilled from her eyes as she pulled a face and opened her lips. Ever so slowly, Petunia leaned forward, prolonging the moment of defiling her son. All too soon, Voldemort pushed the boy's cock forward, completely sheathing him in the wet cavern.

This was the first time Dudley ever felt a tongue on him, and though it was his mother, it still felt good. But, looking down, he became disgusted: his first blowjob came by the woman who gave birth to him. He began to cry, but his body betrayed him and he remained hot and hard.

The sensations were too new, and intense, and before he knew it, Dudley had burst in his mother's mouth. They both had tear tracks on their cheeks and Petunia's chin was covered in semen.

Voldemort sighed. "Had you only swallowed." He turned to Dudley, "Imperio."

Uncle Vernon gazed on through the smear of water to see his son quietly position himself behind his wife. Just as silently, he watched as Dudley began to fuck her doggie-style.

Voldemort squealed his delight at the horror on the husband's face, watching his son fuck his wife. The joy increased as the boy's thrusts sped of their own accord, meaning he was close, very close.

"Finite Incantatum."

Dudley came down from the euphoric plane to find himself buried in the cunt of his mother, tensed and near orgasm once again. He couldn't have stopped himself even if he wanted to. His cock was smeared in blood and cold semen, and still he pumped on.

Of his own free will, Dudley came into his mother's womb, collapsing on top of her immediately following. The screams of Uncle Vernon had become background music, they'd been going so long.

"And now, your reward." The wooden rod pointed at the blood-spattered, sobbing woman, "Avada Kedavra."

In a flash of green light, the whimpering stopped and Petunia lay motionless. Dudley began to blubber louder. It was a time of firsts for the boy: first blowjob, first sex encounter, first experience of death.

Uncle Vernon couldn't believe his eyes and for the first time since his wife's rape, there was silence.

The monster moved to Dudley, frozen behind his mother's corpse. "And for you." Another blaze of light and the boy lay puppet-like upon the floor.

And now, Voldemort transferred his attentions to the man against the wall. "Your family is dead." He spoke gaily. "And now, it's your turn."

He dropped to his knees and tore the dress-pants from his body; his briefs soon follow suit. Vernon's flaccid cock stared Voldemort in the face.

None too gently, the wizard too the flesh into his mouth and bobbed up and down, letting the thing slip and slide while he bit with his teeth. He could see the pain in the man's eyes and how desperately he wanted to close them.

Too bad he had no eyelids.

Voldemort continued his ministrations until her felt the stirrings of life in the limp extremity. He went all the way down, taking the length of the organ into his throat before he chomped down viciously.

With his snake-like teeth and sheer determination, Voldemort bit off Uncle Vernon's penis, spitting it upon the tiled floor to spill cherry red fluid on the floor. Scarlet trailed from the corners of his lips as he smiled wickedly at the face before him—a face in utter torment.

Bringing up his hand, Voldemort took pity on the muggle. "Avada Kedavra."

After it was all said and done, Voldemort felt his ire rise. It should have been more of a fight. Where in bloody hell was that damned Potter boy?

He took his rage out on the house, blowing up the television set and tearing the couch to shreds. He returned to the kitchen and collected his clothing, beginning to reassemble himself.

It was then he finally heard the footsteps. Smiling, he continued to non-chalantly button his robes.

The man in question burst through the door, wand at the ready in unreserved fighting stance, although his face mirrored horror and sorrow.

Voldemort draped his cloak over his arm and stared the raven-haired wizard straight in the eye.

"Just for you, Harry." And he apparated away, leaving the young Mr. Potter alone with his dead tormentors.

-Fin-