warnings- slash, some angst, light-hearted fluff, a little violence, and a bit of language

Rated R

HP-TR

Playing Hero

part 1

"Let's drag him in here," yelled Dudley Dursley, pointing to the decrepit abandoned home at the woodsy patch on the opposite side of the park. Leading the way, he was being closely followed by Piers, Dennis, Malcolm, and Gordon towards the home. These four boys just happened to all go to Smeltings, and were all a part of Dudley's terrible bully gang that terrorized everyone in school, as well as most everyone they lived by. In their grasps, a smaller boy with jet-black hair was being trudged along with them, looking to be carried very much against his will.

Looking up at the rickety old door as Dudley kicked it open, Harry Potter heaved in a well needed deep breath; something he hadn't been able to do after being punched repeatedly in the ribs over the last hour. "What's going on?" he managed to wheeze out, eyeing his cousin's sinister grin with worry.

Dudley snarled at his undersized cousin as he held the door open for his four mates to drag him inside. "Gordon said you were looking at his arse earlier, you pouf. We're gonna teach you a lesson about checking us out!" He grinned, delighted in watching Harry's features contort into aghast fear.

"I did not! Let me go or I swear I'll tell the Order, Dudley!" yelled Harry, thrashing about in the clutches of the four boys holding him tightly by his arms and legs.

"Take him upstairs and keep him quiet, I've got to go home and tell mum that me and Harry won't be home tonight," said Dudley to the others, wagging his eyebrows mischievously at his friends.

~*~

Standing over his followers in deep discussion on the ultimate and permanent removal of muggle-loving old fools, Lord Voldemort glowered outwardly and blushed inwardly at all the 'under the breath' cat-calls and kissing noises directed his way. Not certain who exactly was making the noises, the rude gestures were flying from every direction it seemed, he ordered all masks to be removed at once. "Stop it. Stop making those noises! This is serious business," he cried frantically, feeling slightly less powerful in his new body; that of his 16 year old self, stolen from the destroyed diary Lucius Malfoy had retained once again.

Noting the wolfish looks on more than half his follower's faces, male or female, Voldemort cringed. "Meeting adjourned. Get away from me this instant!" He walked quickly to Lucius' side and grasped his upper arm. "Can I talk to you for a moment?' he whispered.

The handsome blonde's lips curled into a seductive smirk, his eyes scanned over the delicate fingers circling his arm. "Of course, my Lord. Would you like to talk somewhere more private... perhaps my place?"

Voldemort goggled at him. His hands slipped away as he backed up a pace, feeling quite defeated. "This was a really bad idea, Lucius. No one is taking me seriously anymore. How can I get my old body back? You know, the really intimidating one that everyone averted their eyes to..." he said with a sigh, gazing down at his dainty hands.

"Impossible I'm afraid, sir. This is your body now. You'll just have to learn to deal with it," Lucius loomed over the boy while he unconsciously wiped a bit of drool from his chin.

~*~

"Bloody hell, not now..." groaned Harry. His scar lit up white hot, blurring his already blurry vision. He would have doubled over if he could have, but being tied to a bedpost prevented that from happening. He gritted his teeth to hold in the impending scream, not willing to give the four boys glaring back at him the satisfaction of thinking they had caused the pain.

"What's the matter, Potter? Can't control those lustful urges?" chided Malcolm, glowering at the boy. "You looking at my arse?"

Harry rolled his eyes. He laughed to himself at the helplessness of the four cronies, fearful of making any moves without their pig of a leader there to direct them. He only hoped Aunt Petunia would disallow his request, at least for him to stay the night at Piers. Certainly she would know Harry would never want to do something that ridiculous.

The pain in his scar flared up in intensity then, driving him to yelp loudly and uncontrollably. All four boys jerked their heads back toward him nervously as his cries filled the room. "Be quiet, Potter!" hissed Piers.

His hands clenched into fists behind his back to take his mind away from the pain, wishing badly he could just rub his scar for a moment to help ease the suffering. He dug his bitten fingernails into his palms as the pain lingered. It seemed that Lord Voldemort was very upset about something.

"Why isn't he gagged? I could hear him out in the park!" yelled Dudley. He huffed and puffed to catch his breath as he fell over onto the old, dust-covered mattress on the four poster. Gordon stood up abruptly with a look of intimidation on his face. Harry opened his mouth politely as the larger boy stuffed it with his dirty handkerchief. Might as well not upset the toadies any more than they seemed.

"Guess what, Harry! Mum said we could spend the whole weekend at Piers house," said Dudley with a snigger, and Harry's heart began to beat wildly in his chest.

~*~

Lord Voldemort rubbed his forehead as the impending pain began it's ritualistic dull throbbing once again. "That Potter kid needs to do something other than worry all the time. I swear that's all he ever does anymore," he said to Lucius, who in turn flitted his eyes over his Master sexily. Over the last month or so, every instance of that wretched boy's worries began to take a toll on poor old Voldemort, showing up in the form of a mind numbing headache.

"Let me kill him for you, Master. I can make it all better," he pleaded, falling to his knees in front of the beautiful black-haired boy.

Voldemort stared down at him, jaw dropped open, not knowing what to do. He shook his head and whirled around. He walked quickly to his wardrobe and flung the doors open. He really needed to get out of there. "I... I think I need a little vacation. I deserve it, right? I mean... yes, I think I'm going to go away for a short time,"

"But where?!" cried Lucius as he crawled over to his master on his hands and knees. He prostrated himself as he reached his perfectly beautiful feet, worshipping them with his eyes. "Whatever I've done to upset you, I'm sorry! You... you should punish me, Master! I've been so naughty!"

"Huh??" exclaimed Voldemort. He jumped back in horror at the innuendo, unable to rationalise why all this sudden attention was directed at him. He had wanted his young body back, he desired it, yes, but merely for a longer lifespan. He had honestly forgotten how deliciously handsome he used to be. He had lost it so quickly after Hogwarts, dabbling in the dark arts, and at his sexual prime the only thing that had mattered then was power. Only power...

Lucius began tracing his fingers over his Master's toes as he licked his lips to keep them moist and puffy. "You could stay at my place. I've got loads of room, Master. My son and wife will be there... but I can send them away, that's not a problem,"

Rearing back in complete horror, Voldemort waved his wand over the wardrobe hastily. A large trunk flew out and landed on his bed, filling with neatly folded clothing plunging themselves into it. "No.. I think I'll just go somewhere private... get myself used to this new body. You understand, right, Lucius?"

The Dark Lord's second in command propped his head up on his elbows, pouting up at his master. "Well, no... I don't. But you are the master, I suppose it's okay if you take a bit of time for yourself,"

~*~

Malcolm stood face to face with Harry studying his features. "He looks like a girl, no wonder he acts like a girl, looking at my arse all the time..." he said to the others. Harry groaned in frustration. He was NOT looking at any of their flat or fat arses. And he certainly did NOT look like a girl either.

"Yeah, he's a pretty boy. All poufs are. Look! He just looked at your arse as you walked away, Malcolm!" cried Gordon, pointing at Malcolm's arse.

Harry spit the wad of dirty cloth out of his mouth. "You wish I'd look at your arses. I would never... ever, ever look at any of your arses!" he hissed angrily.

Dennis reached into his backpack and pulled out a bottle of whiskey he'd nicked from his dad's liquor cabinet. "Look what I've got!" He held it up like a symbol of deity, and everyone ooh'd and ahh'd, clearly impressed.

All five boys huddled up and began passing the bottle around, taking generous swigs of the whiskey between fits of coughing at it's awful taste. Harry leaned back into his bedpost with added worry, it was bad enough he was trapped with them, but now they were getting drunk. Nothing good would come from that.

~*~

"You little bastard, get over it!" whimpered Lord Voldemort, pressing his fingers over his temples to numb the ache. "Nothing in your pathetic life could be so worrisome."

He stood at the end of the street corner, not exactly sure where he had apparated to. Nothing looked familiar to him, he couldn't remember where he had concentrated on when he cast the spell either. The area looked quite... muggle in appearance. Houses lined the street looking exactly like the one next to it. A woman in a car stopped at the corner and stared through slits at him. Tempted to pull his wand free and hex her into oblivion, he opted to toss her a rude gesture instead. She gawked at him and snapped her lips together as she drove off.

He looked down at himself and sighed. No wonder she was glaring at him, he was dressed up in his ceremonial robes. No muggle could ever understand the significance or the beauty they represented. With a sigh, he pulled it off and folded it over his arm. No need to attract more unwanted attention, he'd had way too much of that earlier that afternoon to last a lifetime.

He stood there now in a pair of thin woollen trousers and a crisp linen shirt and tie. Glancing down the street he spotted an empty park that suddenly looked very inviting. In his while lifetime, he'd never visited a park, as much as he'd wanted to. A childish smile lit up his face as he nodded to himself. With his trunk safely shrunk in his pocket, he walked shamelessly towards the fun-looking area intent of gaining back some lost time.

~*~

"I swear with every sip I take, he gets prettier and prettier. I think he just winked at me," slurred Piers. He winked back up at the bound and gagged boy struggling desperately to get free, clearly not looking in his direction at all.

"Yeah, he sure is a cutie. Maybe he's really a girl and he's been tricking you, big D," said Gordon.

Dudley grimaced at them. "You guys are really foul, you know that?" He reached up behind him and punched Harry in the gut to make him stop moving so much. Sniggering, watching Harry's eyes screw shut in pain, he looked back at his posse. "He's a boy. I've seen him naked before. He's a boy for sure."

"You have?" enquired Dennis, swiping surreptitious glances at Harry's petite little body.

Harry tried to spit the handkerchief back out, but the piece of rope that was tied between his teeth held it in quite effectively. His scar felt like it might burst open soon. He moaned in his throat, hoping someone might take pity on him, no longer caring if his noise was buggering them all.

Malcolm crawled over to Harry on wobbly knees. Resting in front of him, his hand crept up Harry's bare leg to stroke the hem of his shorts. "Maybe we can see him naked too. It's not fair that only you've seen him, big D," he murmured hypnotically, ignoring Harry's whimpering at the intrusion.

"I agree!" said Dennis, clamouring over to Malcolm's side to see what was making Harry squirm around so much. Piers and Dudley shared a look of *shock* briefly, but turned around to see what their friends were doing anyways.

Malcolm began fidgeting with the fringe hanging off the cut-off shorts, twisting it around precariously close to Harry's groin. Harry hopped up and down in place as much as the bindings would allow, unaware he was only exciting the boy more. His head was spinning out of control. The pain in his scar, the blurred vision from loosing his glasses, the fear pounding in his heart as the pissed boys began to fondle him was too much to handle. He began to scream into his gag, thinking maybe someone might hear him. Someone needed to come and help, anyone.

His head lolled forward as a wave of searing pain scrambled his brain, a vision from Lord Voldemort clenching his fists in front of his eyes flashed in his head. The muffled words he tried to speak and seeing through the Dark Lord's eyes as he looked up to the very abandoned house he was in sent icy shards of icy fear into his veins. Harry looked down at the two boys kneeling in front of him unzipping his shorts, numb to their actions anymore. His eyes rolled back into his head, and he slumped against the ropes in a dead faint.

tbc