Collared
A Harry Potter Fanfiction
Fanfiction By: Star2000fire
Beta Read by: Suffocatingromano
Chapter One, part A
Disclaimer: I don't own it, it's not mine, wish it was, but it's not.
Warnings: BDSM, Bestiality, Incest, Non-con, possibly OOC, Sexual Content, SM, Violence, Adult Language, Rape, Mpreg, Slash-so if you don't like gay, I'd go somewhere else.
Author Notes: This is hopefully the start of a series. Not sure.
This will also be one of my darkest stories. And, yes, we all know what I'm writing will have NO chance of ever happening, but I'm in a bad mood and so any character that fall's under my mind's eye is suspect for pain. Now on with the show...
Beta Reader's note: Hey guys! The name's Sabra, nice to meet you. This story brought itself to my attention a few weeks ago, and I thought to myself, "Man, I really like this. I should help the writer out." So I did! And I like it all the same. Now, you'll see lots of me I'll proof read all the chapters she writes(I hope if she choose not for me to do so, I won't). I hope we can become friends over the length of this story!
His throat itched, but he'd long since gotten used to that-that, and the heavy weight of the collar around his neck.
He'd even stopped pulling at it-as if by shear force of will he could take it off, or break it-just as he'd long since stopped wondering when the outside world would notice his predicament. Ever since he could remember he'd been wearing the collar, the collar that meant he wasn't allowed on furniture and he was only allowed food every week, and even then he knew Vernon was being overly soft, giving him food that many times a month. Aunt Marge even said so.
He shuddered at the reminder of her, her and her...dog's. Green eye's closing he took a deep and steading breath. He hated dogs-any size dog, any type of dog. They made his skin crawl. And they HURT...especially when his uncle rubbed something that was, apparently, the hormones of a female in heat, all over him...
Shuddering, Harry twisted as he heard foot steps coming towards the room, situating himself so if his uncle opened the door to his small cage to clip his chain to his leash he wouldn't have to bend down, or even reach in to grab him. Making his uncle do something was very, very bad.
Harry remembered, then, his first bit of accidental magic due to this situation.
His uncle had told him no one was to see his collar at school, and if they did they'd take him away from the loving home he had now and send him someplace worse. Because that collar meant someone loved him, and that wasn't allowed. He'd been terrified of going to school, had begged to stay home, pleaded, promised he'd be good if they just didn't make him go. He'd not eat for the whole month if they'd just please let him stay home. But his uncle said someone had seen him, and if he didn't go to school they'd take him away.
The next day, just before school, he'd some how made the collar invisible. Made it so no one could see it. He'd spent the whole day so worried they'd see it and take him away from Uncle Vernon.
but they hadn't. He'd burst into tear's when he'd gotten home, so relived. From that day forward, anytime he willed it, no one could see the collar.
If he'd thought his life was going to go easy from then on, he'd been innocent, and stupid. When he hit eleven, the damn letter from Hogwarts had showed up.
His Uncle had been furious. He'd beaten him black and blue, called him a freak, told him he should take Harry's collar off. Harry had nearly had a heart attack. He'd begged and pleaded, clinging to his collar as the man had tried removing it, threatening dire punishments if he did not allow him to remove the collar. But in the end, thankfully, he'd been allowed to keep his collar on.
Of course, though, then came the trip to platform 9 and 3/4's.
He'd hated the idea of leaving his safe, rule enforced home, but he still had to. They'd sent Hagrid to find him, after all. Before the man had burst into the shack on the rock out at sea, he'd hidden the collar as per the rules and scrambled from his sleeping place at the foot of the coach on the floor.
Then he'd learned his name. That he was a wizard, that his parents hadn't died by car crash, but not that the way he'd lived his whole life was wrong. He knew he was going to be punished for talking to the stranger, but he'd had no other choice but to keep the giants attention on him and off his Uncle. Of course, when the giant dragged him from the rock before he could get permission, he'd felt terror wash through him, and had struggled for a few moments, but eventually he knew he had to.
And so, he'd gotten his first glimpse into the wizarding world, and had felt totally bewildered by all the physical contact, and the sheer noise of it all.
And he'd found out about Voldemort.
He'd only done all those brave things because people said he should, like his stand aginst the dark lord, or his struggle with the troll. Not because he'd actually wanted to. No, he did as he knew people wanted him to.
At the end of the year, he was sent home-he'd nearly run to his Uncle, large green eye's pleading with him to give him what he was familiar with. When they'd gotten home he'd almost raced to his cage, but as he though, his Uncle had been furious that he'd gone with the giant ...and then he'd learned what else he had to do.
He'd been raped. Not by the dogs this time but by his Uncle and cousin, the pain and words seared into him, now-"He was worthless. He wasn't even supposed to be alive. Who could love him, when he was so dirty?" The words had burned themselves into his memory and shattered the fragile new confidence Hogwarts had given him.
He fell into a pattern then-he went to school and acted as he was supposed to in the eyes of others, no one noticing the deep hurt he harbored, the bruises harbored, broken bones, cuts...he'd glamored them, learned how he'd been doing it instinctively when Flirtwick started teaching about it in charms class.
Snape, he found, was the only one who treated him as he should be. Heaping hurtful words at him, calling him worthless, only fighting the truth because his friends had said he should.
And then he'd gone home.
At school, or at the Weasley burrow, he was as he was 'supposed' to be, but at home he was who he was. His wand and chest being locked in his old room under the stair's, he was moved to his cousin's second room. It felt like some sort of punishment. His Uncle had to take pity on him and put a kennel in his room. He'd been ecstatic, thanking his Uncle over and over again.
Eventually, through, he'd learned of the twin's predicament, which had shaken him. He'd had gotten contacted mentally how, he didn't know, and yet somehow, he appeared right where they needed him.
He'd saved them from their mother, who found it necessary to punish her sons for simply loving each other. He'd thought it completely horrible-how could she do that to her own kids? He'd saved them, bought them a home above a shop that had gone out of business, and warded it so their mother couldn't get at them.
But now, after Sirius Black's and Albus Dumbledore's death, no one had come to check up on him.
Sometimes ,he thought about the life the other's lead, and wished he had their life. Wished he was allowed on the furniture, was allowed more then one meal a week, was allowed to do the things he saw all the other's doing.
But he wasn't. He was filthy, and that was that.