"No, please no, not him. Not Ron…" thrashed the raven haired boy in his sleep. He woke up panting in his room at number 4 Privet Drive.

"WHAT IS THE PROBLEM BOY" came the voice from outside along with the sounds of locks clicking open.

"Sorry, I had a nightmare" he replied timidly.

"Now that's not my business, is it," barged in the fat man in his trousers, a maniacal glint in his eyes. He reeked of alcohol and cigarette smoke. "You disturbed me freak and you will pay." He moved closer towards the 15 year old.

"Please Uncle Vernon, it won't happen again." Harry said desperately.

"I'll make sure it won't," said the older man taking off his clothes. He grabbed Harry by the scruff of his neck and tore off is clothes. "What a freak you are" he growled whipping his belt against Harry's bare body. "Your aunt is not at home tonight, is she…? Who will protect little Potter now…"

His uncle had been beating him up for many years now. But Aunt Petunia always stopped him before it got too much. But tonight, she and Harry's cousin Dudley had gone shopping and managed to get stuck in a blizzard.

He knew what was going to happen now. It had been coming a long time now. Ever since Harry had come back for the summer, his uncle had been giving him strange glances whenever they were alone. Eyes black and distant, an evil smirk on his face. He had been scared to admit it at first, but deep down, Harry knew what his uncle wanted.

And now Vernon Dursley had his chance. He had kept this brat for 14 years now. Fed him, clothed him. The least the freak could do was pay him back he believed. Not in cash, in kind, his eves glinted with excitement.

The raven haired's body was burning when his uncle entered him. He thought whipping hurt, but now, all he could think about was the member between his legs. The pain, oh the pain. It felt like he was being torn in half. But his guardian did not stop there. He ploughed on relentlessly, moaning and groaning like a wild animal in heat. Harry's shoulders were grabbed at and pulled upwards while he lay face down, unable to do anything about the extent to which his spine was bent. He cleared his mind and tried to think of the occlumency lessons with Snape. 'Clear your mind' he thought to himself 'happy memories. Try to think of happy memories' he tried to convince himself.

But what happy memories could a 14 year old boy, who had lived in a hellhole for the first 11 years of his life, abused, had the responsibility of the wizarding world on his shoulders and was being defiled by his uncle, think of. Finally, Mr. Dursley collapsed on top of the boy spent, and lay there breathing onto the hairs of his neck. He picked himself up and collected his clothes, giving the boy a slap on his already red cheeks and left him on the floor, bruised and battered.

He didn't know how long he lay there on the floor. An hour, maybe two. It just hurt too much to move. He thought of what everyone might say if they came to know. 'The savior of the wizarding world, abused, beaten up, laying naked on his bed…' he laughed to himself. A cold, hollow laugh. It wasn't long before he fell asleep right there on the hard floor, cold and shivering.