WARNING: CHARACTER DEATH, ATTEMPTED SUICIDE, RAPE, YOU WILL CRY!
So yeah, don't flame. Just don't read it if you feel that way. I didn't want to write this, it wrote itself. I had the prompt Tragedy.
"The scar had not pained Harry for nineteen years. All was well."
JK Rowling, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows.
Harry was confused when he woke up at first. He expected to be lying in bed, Ginny snuggled up in his arms. His head gently cradled by feather pillows, with the scent of Lavender in the air. But instead of resting in his king sized bed with his wife, he was in a dark empty room.
It was the smell that reminded him. It smelled like piss, sweat, puke, and despair. Harry was huddled in the corner, his knees pressed against his naked chest. It wasn't comfortable, but it was the best he could do. An itch was at the base of his neck and Harry lifted his hand to scratch under the metal collar. The chains rattled as he moved. It was the sound that awoke the truth.
Harry found himself gazing at the other end of the room, where a barely perceptible outline was drawn in blood over the black walls. He remembered painting that. The faces of his friends looked at him, and it seemed as though they were sad. But they were just paintings. They didn't feel sadness. But they were company. Better company than he had for a while now. Harry gazed at the sadly, as the dream drifted away. How had things become like this?
Harry closed his eyes for a moment and remembered walking through the forest. The resurrection stone was rotated. But nothing happened. Harry had felt so lonely in that moment, that he forgot to watch for enemies. So when an unknown Death Eater had crucioed him from behind; he had no warning. The pain had radiated out from every nerve. It hurt so much.
Harry flinched from the memory as the pain flooded him. But he wasn't dreaming this time, he had been so absorbed in the memory, he hadn't noticed Lucius Malfoy enter his room. Harry felt himself spasming on the floor, the sound of his chains paying a nice complement to Malfoy's malicious laughter. Eventually the man stopped. "Your Master is calling." Malfoy Senior sneered, before casting a spell to release Harry's chain from where it was secured to the wall.
Harry gulped before he sat up and began to crawl towards the door. One knee after another. Hand after hand. When he arrived at the door, Malfoy sent out a kick that Harry couldn't dodge, even if he had tried. Harry felt something break, whimpered at the feeling, but kept crawling. He knew, if he stopped to nurse his side, he would only be kicked again. So he continued down the hall, the feeling of the small rocks numb to him. Finally he approached the large doors that led to the man who had summoned him.
The sight of the doors brought up his memory of the last time he had stood in front of them. Standing tall and proud, thinking... The doors opened and Harry shook himself out of the reverie. Slowly he began to crawl forward. He couldn't help but notice how dark and twisted the Great Hall had become. Harry kept his eyes from the walls. He climbed the stairs slowly, until he rested by the feet of his Master. The man looked down at him and sneered, before his foot lashed out and caught Harry's chin. Harry held the yelp of pain in. Once he had caught his balance he crawled back. The Dark Lord laughed. Every Death Eater around the room laughed.
"Oh, to see how much the Chosen one has fallen." Voldemort laughed. Harry didn't react. He couldn't.
Before he would have said something snarky, like 'Too stupid to come up with new jokes Tom?" But now he didn't dare. Before, there had been some hope. Before there had been the belief that if he just finished to Dumbledore's orders, everything else would fall into place. But Dumbledore had been wrong. Unwillingly, his eyes shot to the front of the room, where the remains of Dumbledore's rotting corpse was stuck. Harry turned his eyes away as quick as he could.
But then Voldemort's voice filled Harry's ear. With a near growl, Voldemort gave his first command of the day. "Look at them." He ordered. Harry did as he asked, knowing that if he tried to resist, Voldemort would force him, as well as remind him, in detail, of how they got there. Harry lifted his eyes to Dumbledore again, but his eyes moved to the left, where McGonagall's body was, 3 years of rot sitting on her. Then there was Trelawney, Flitwick, Hagrid, Snape... that was it for the Professors. They were all on display in the Great Hall, because Harry cared for them.
Harry knew it wasn't enough, and so his eyes turned to the wall to his left, each body slightly less decayed. Ron was first, than Hermione, Neville, Dean, Seamus, Lavender, Katie, both Creevey brothers, Fred, George, at the end of that side was the newest body, only a few days old, Cho. Harry looked to the corner of the right wall, shifting as he did so, his back to Voldemort. There was a blank spot, then he saw Alicia, Oliver, Tonks, Mrs. Weasley, Remus, Lee, Susan, Bill, Fleur, and finally Parvarti, and once more Harry was looking at Dumbledore.
Harry turned his eyes back to Voldemort. He felt no emotion, even now would not give Him the satisfaction of seeing Harry break down. It was the last bit of his spirit. He should have known better. Voldemort watched him for a moment before a sneer covered his face, and Harry felt his panic grow. "Let them in." Voldemort called out with a wicked laughter. Than the man grabbed Harry's chain and secured him to the arm of his throne facing toward the masses of black cloaked figures.. Voldemort secured it tight enough, that it was all Harry could do to keep his fingers of the ground. He couldn't stop touching the ground. Ever.
When the doors opened and three people entered the room, Harry felt his heart sink in the pit of his despair. He knew it wouldn't recover this time. He felt the tears streaming down his face. Voldemort always knew exactly what to do, to get to Harry. Bellatrix Lestrange was standing next to Fenrir Greyback. Both of them were alternating between smirking at their Lord, leering at Harry, and glaring at their captive.
Luna Lovegood looked at Harry with so much concern and pity that Harry tried to look away from her. But Voldemort grabbed his hair and made him look forward once more. Harry found Luna looking around the room at the corpses, and her face turned horrified. Those fear filled eyes turned to Harry again. She seemed to understand.
"We caught this little mischief-maker trying to organize a rescue party." Bellatrix exclaimed as she backhanded Luna. Luna fell to the ground and the group of Death Eaters laughed at her attempt. They should laugh, no one had seen Harry Potter, except the ones who now hung on the walls watching Harry in his shame. Harry had hoped that Luna would flee and live her life. That she would forget about him. But he should have known that the last of his friends would still try to save him. So it was only fair, that Harry try to save her.
So he turned his streaming eyes to Voldemort. His tongue felt odd in his mouth, for Harry hadn't spoken in months. "Master, please." Voldemort looked at him shocked for a moment, and then the man grinned at him.
"How dare you speak to me without permission!" Voldemort, using the hair still clenched in his grasp, slammed Harry's face into the arm of his stone chair. Harry felt his nose break. "What do you want maggot?" Voldemort continued.
"Please Master..." Harry struggled around his nose. "What can I do?"
Voldemort eyed him with a look. "What haven't you done maggot?" Voldemort looked away for a moment before turning back to Harry with a new gleam in his eye. Harry felt a new spark of fear. "I've let all my Eaters have their way with you. But you have never received the honor of having my touch have you?" Harry shrunk back in disgust. Voldemort's mouth twisted into a sadistic smile. "No, you haven't." Voldemort released Harry's chain and pulled him by the hair till he was pressed between the man's legs. "Make sure I enjoy myself maggot." Voldemort leaned closer when Harry didn't immediately respond and whispered "Didn't you hear me?"
Harry knew that if he didn't do this, Luna would never survive. Having no use of his hands, Harry had to use his mouth to reveal that the man was disgustingly aroused by the situation. Harry gathered the little courage he had left, and leaned forward. Voldemort made no sound, even as Harry did everything he could to make the man prove that he was enjoying himself. He tried something different, and suddenly he was choking on his own success.
He knew he couldn't smile at the man, lest he make him angry again, but he turned to look up at him. And found eyes that twinkled in a sick imitation of Dumbledore. "Is that all?" Harry froze in shock... he had finished the man. He had enjoyed it! He had to have! In desperation Harry leaned forward once more and tried harder, keeping his teeth well out-of-the-way despite the fluttering thought to bite down. It wasn't long before the man was ready to go again. And did. And still the man asked the same question. Third time's the charm Harry thought to himself, and pleasured the man to the best of his ability. Until exhausted he sank back and looked hopefully at the Dark Lord. "Oh well..." Was the response. Harry watched in horror as Voldemort lifted a hand, and Luna started to scream. At first, Harry thought that he wouldn't have to watch, but then Voldemort dragged him back to his spot by the arm of the chair, and chained him up again. As much as Harry wanted to rub the disgusting remains away from his mouth. He didn't. He watched horrified as Luna was destroyed.
It lasted a couple of hours, each minute dragging slowly by. First, they destroyed her mind. One by one, each Death Eater came forward and took her. Until she no longer cried out, but lay rigid under the ministrations. Than they let Fenrir go at her. Fenrir had gone after Hermione too... and as Harry watched his friend Luna, he also saw his friend Hermione. Fenrir began to eat her. He started at the ends of her arms and legs, Bellatrix casting spells to keep her from bleeding out and dying beforehand.
Harry felt fresh tears rolling down his face. Eventually, Fenrir had eaten Luna's arms and legs, leaving bloody bones in his wake. But then the man turned and winked at Harry before going for her stomach. At this Luna finally cried out again. She screamed and threw her body side to side, trying to dislodge the man. But it did no good. She became weaker and weaker in her motions until finally she stopped. The only motion was Fenrir still eating. Harry closed his eyes. He had no more friends.
With this thought Harry went to bite his tongue, hoping to die. But as always it was useless. Magic kept his teeth from biting down, just like they had kept him from trying to choke himself with his chain, suffocate himself, bash his head in, and bleed to death. One of Voldemort's crueler 'gifts.'
Harry slumped, all of his life drifting away from him. Pain sparked slightly in his head, and Harry bleakly realized that Voldemort was lifting him off the ground by his hair. But Harry just let his arms and legs dangle uselessly. He lost his will. Voldemort threw him to the floor in disgust. Harry heard the rumble of Voldemort's voice, but didn't understand what he was saying. Than suddenly there were hands everywhere, shoving into places that hands shouldn't be shoved. And things other than hands as well. Wands. Bottles. Knifes... Harry didn't feel the pain, though he knew it was there.
Eventually those people pulled away and Voldemort came to stand before him. His eyes were narrowed at Harry in hatred. A few hours ago, Harry would have scampered to the man's side trying to placate him. To save himself, and whichever friend Voldemort would drag before him next. But now, he didn't care. Voldemort pried into Harry's mind. Harry let him have free rein. He could take whatever memories he wanted. See whatever he wished. Harry just didn't care anymore.
Voldemort face turned from hatred to disinterest. And Harry knew it was finally here. The end. Voldemort pointed his wand down at Harry. "Pathetic." The man spit out. Harry didn't care. He closed his eyes "Avada Kedavra" and accepted Death like an old friend.