A/N: This story contains abuse. Not recommended for young readers.
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry potter or anything related to it.
Hope you enjoy it. Ginny cowered in the corner as her husband entered the room, shielding her baby from his view. Even from this distance she could smell the alcohol on his breath. He stumbled as he crossed the room, and when he spoke to her his words slurred so much that she had difficulty making sense of them.
'What is this filth?' he demanded, throwing the plate containing his dinner against a far wall. Ginny watched as her mother's finest china shattered and fell to the living room floor.
'Spaghetti,' she answered, her voice trembling in her fear. She shrank further against the wall as Harry turned to her, his face full of malice.
'SPAGHETTI! WHERE IS MY BEEF? I MADE IT PERFECTLY CLEAR THAT I WANTED BEEF TONIGHT.'
Ginny breathed in several times before she replied, willing herself not to cry.
'I know, but you haven't given me any money in a while and without funds I cannot purchase new food. I have done the best I can with what you have given me.'
Harry Potter, defeater of the infamous Voldemort and long-time hero of the wizarding world, walked up to his wife and grabbed a fistful of her hair. He lifted her to her feet and roughly slammed her head into the wall.
'How dare you disrespect me, you filthy slut. I work long hours to support you and keep this household running. Is it too much to ask to have a requested meal waiting for me when I get home?' Harry cut across his wife reply, and once again slammed her into the wall. Ginny let out a small involuntary whimper at this, which only further enraged her intoxicated husband.
'Stop your whining you stupid bitch. You have failed as a wife and I will put you in your place however I see fit.' He dragged her to the door, and roughly smashed her head against the frame. He watched in satisfaction as blood began running down her face.
Ginny turned away, placing a hand on her bleeding brow, as she let in all Harry had said to her. One part of her brain was telling her not to believe it, while the other part drilled in that all he had said was true. That was the part that Ginny chose to believe. For if Harry treated her like this every night, surely she must be doing something wrong, right?
Harry watched in disdain as his wife turned her back to him. If his dirty wife wanted to play games, he would oblige. He took a step towards his wife and reached a hand down to his belt. But before he could go any further, a sound from the corner made him turn around. His son, Albus, was sleeping peacefully, wrapped in his blankets at the other end of the room. Harry turned his full attention to the sleeping infant. His grin widened. He knew just how to punish his wife for her disloyalty.
Ginny watched, frozen with shock, horror and fear, as Harry walked towards Albus. As he drew nearer to where her son was sleeping, Ginny felt her anger boiling just
beneath her skin. He could hurt her, but she would not allow him to hurt her son.
Harry reached out and placed his cold hand upon his son's cheek. Albus woke at the sudden chill and began to cry. Harry hated the sound of kids crying. Years of living with the Dursley's had taught him that tears only showed your own weakness. He had never cried, and so he would not allow his children to sink to such levels.
He placed his hand over the little boy's mouth, muffling the sounds of his sobs. He looked into Albus's bright green eyes, the mirror image of his own, and felt resentment overtake him. He had never wanted this child, never wanted two-year-old James either, and seeing his mothers eyes staring at him from the face of a baby not worthy of existence drove his anger to the extreme.
Picking up the child, he turned back to where his wife stood. Smiling coldly, he stepped towards her, squeezing Albus so tightly that his face started to turn blue. Ginny glanced worriedly at her son, but her glance was lost on Harry, who sudden threw the baby roughly onto the nearest couch and seized her roughly from behind. He dragged her into the kitchen, and threw her down on the cold tiles.
'Take of your clothes, bitch,' he whispered into her ear. Ginny screamed and kicked out at him, not wanting to give him what he wanted. She struggled against him with all her might but his grip was far too strong for her. With malice so strong it was almost visible, Harry ripped off her clothes, leaving her lying on the floor naked except for her underwear.
'Leave me alone, please.' Ginny pleaded with her husband, but experience had taught her to never argue with her husband. His drunken rages were always unpredictable, and never ended well.
Harry silenced his wife with a heavy blow to her nose and mouth. Tears filled Ginny's eyes, but she willed herself not to cry out. She lay on the floor, motionless, as her husband began to strip. Deafening silence echoed around the room as Harry pinned her down once again, broken only when little James, woken up by the screams of his mother, entered the kitchen.
Ginny spotted her eldest son first, and frantically motioned him to leave the room, but her sudden distraction alerted Harry, who followed her eyes to where James stood. He got off Ginny and stood up, focusing his full attention on the boy.
'Get out of here and go back to bed,' he ordered. James looked at his father with wide eyes, noticing for the first time the damage he had inflicted upon his mother.
'Please don't hurt mama.' He said, all his courage disappearing as his father walked towards him. Harry swooped down and picked James up by the collar, choking the boy in the process.
'I said get out of here,' he yelled at the boy, throwing him against the bench with all his might. He watched in satisfaction as James started to cry. He was about to throw the boy out of the room when he remembered his wife lying on the floor. Turning his gaze to her, he smiled cruelly, turning his gaze back to his son. He picked to boy up tenderly, and sat him in a chair, making sure he had perfect view of his mother. Then he walked to a high cupboard and took down a good length of strong rope. He approached the boy once more and swiftly strapped him to the chair.
Ginny watched as Harry bound James to the kitchen chair, blocking out the sound of her son's cries. She desperately wanted to reach out and stroke him, comfort him, but her attempts would prove fruitless. Doing so would only provoke further harm to herself and her child.
Harry bent down close to the boy and forced the child to look into his face. Speaking in a threatening voice, he whispered something to the boy. Ginny strained her ears to hear what he was saying, but his words were inaudible to her. After a moment, Harry stood up, the triumph spread clearly across his features.
Turning his back to the boy, he faced his wife again, taking himself in hand as he walked to where she lay. Sitting down next to the woman, he took her hand in his and forced he to stroke his penis. He closed his eyes in pleasure as he felt his erection growing firmer with every stroke Ginny's delicate hand bestowed upon him. When he was ready, he opened his eyes and mounted his wife, glancing towards James as he did so. To his extreme displeasure, he saw that James had turned his head away.
Anger replacing all feeling of pleasure in an instant, Harry picked up his wand from the kitchen floor and pointed it at the boy. The boys' head flew back to the scene before him in and instant, and his eyelids were forced open. James sat there, completely immobilised, but perfectly alert.
'I'll show you what happens when you disrespect me in my own house.' Harry growled. Without warning, he forced himself deep within his wife body, ignoring her cries of pain.
Ginny sobbed as her husband threw himself relentlessly into her body, tearing her body with every thrust, punching his wife every time she complained.. As the seconds turned into minutes and Harry showed no sign of stopping, Ginny looked at her son, tears of pain threatening to spill at the look of horror spread across his face, as he was forced to watch the brutal scene before him. Ginny turned her head away, unable to bear his pain. A child should never have to live through this, she thought to herself, I am a terrible mother.
When Harry was at last done, he rose from his wife's battered body and, panting heavily, pulled on his clothes and left the room calmly, not bothering to release his son from his bonds.
Ginny sobbed as Harry left the room, rolling over and pulling herself into a foetal position. The tiles were covered with blood and her broken nose was pounding mercilessly. She could hear James crying behind her, but she made no effort to move and comfort him. After several long minutes Ginny grasped onto the edge of the counter, and pulled herself up, wincing as pain shot through her body. She quickly got her wand and released her son, the proceeded into the bathroom.
She pulled on her nightgown when she entered the room and stood in front of the mirror. Her face was swollen and several angry cuts were dripping blood down her face and into her hair. Purple bruises lined her cheeks and neck and she had the beginning of a black eye.
She sank to the floor and sobbed. Harry had beaten her before, but not like this. His behaviour was getting worse every day. He had never laid a finger on the children before, and until this night little James had never known what she suffered on a daily basis. Her marriage to Harry had started out so perfect, but now she living in constant fear. Nothing she did seemed to please him anymore.
'That's because you're a worthless whore who doesn't deserve his pleasure,' a small voice in her brain told her. Ginny sobbed all the harder, for she knew it to be true. She often displeased her husband, so she deserved punishment.
'But your mother never used to beat you if you did something wrong,' her conscience chimed in. Ginny thought about this. It's true, she thought. Mother never hit us if we did something wrong. She would send us to our rooms and refuse to give us desert as punishment.
'But Harry is your husband, he is expected to treat you differently from your mother. She was too soft on you.' Her mind told her. Ginny thought about this, deciding that it was true. Her mother had spoiled her too much.
'But Professor Snape never beat you or used physical discipline in any way. But would you think he was being to soft?' Ginny shook her head slightly at the words. Snape was ultimately the most controlling teacher during her years at Hogwarts, and he believed fully in the discipline of children. He had never been soft on anyone. He was as strict as they came.
Ginny shook her head again, as if clearing it. Nobody had ever hit her before, so maybe it was Harry who was in the wrong. One fact remained though. She simply couldn't carry on living like this. If Harry wouldn't change, she would have to run away.
'But Harry doesn't always hit you, does he? In fact, he can be quite charming when he's sober. You said so yourself.' That voice cut through her thoughts again. True, thought Ginny, but now he is hardly ever sober. His life revolves around alcohol.
'But what does that matter to you? You love him; you will never have the courage to leave. And what would happen to your children? Where would you take them? You have no money, no friends and who would take you in?' Ginny screamed in frustration at the truth of the words. With nowhere to go, she had no choice but to stay here. And her love for Harry ruled her life; she could never live without him. She was trapped.
She looked around as Harry stomped up the stairs, risen from his slumber by her screams. She half-stood up as he entered the room, but before she could moved anymore he reached her and seized her hair.
'Can't you be quite while a man is trying to sleeping. Or is a little peace to much for you to manage?' He threw her against the bathroom cabinet, the glass mirror shattering against her head. Harry spun her around and delivered a sharp blow to her neck.
Ginny swayed unsteadily as Harry released her from his grasp. She lost her footing and sank to the floor, her head hitting the side of the bathtub as she fell. She could hear Harry's footsteps retreating from the room, and heard him muttering under his breath. She could hear the distant screams of her son as Harry terrorised him. Then everything went black she could hear no more.