Disclaimer: If I owned harry Potter, small children would be banned from reading and watching. Also, it would probably be sold in Adult stores, rather than your local book store.
Warnings: Slash/Yaoi, torture, rape/non-con, sex with a minor.
I was going to update this sooner (As it's been finished since about a week after I posted the first one) but I was wary of actually posting it on the site. But I'm throwing caution to the wind! And the story won't leave me alone. Also, I probably should've guessed it was obvious. I am, after all, so unbelievably unsubtle it's not funny. If even my friend, who hasn't read past the third book in the HP series could guess correctly, then it's obvious.
--
Harry looked up as the footsteps stopped. It had been months, but Harry didn't know that. All sense of time had been lost to the darkness. Sometimes Harry would get to sleep, only to be woken up what felt like minutes later. Other times he felt like he'd been forgotten for days. The door was unlocked and Harry was dragged out again. Strapped to the table, Harry made a decision. He'd once read, in a book that he'd borrowed from a muggle Library, that some people hurt others because they themselves can't feel or express pain. So they take it out on people, the screams representing their unvoiced cries. So Harry decided not to scream. Then, hopefully, the man would stop.
The torture started, but Harry did not let a single sound escape his mouth. It went on for hours, getting more and more vicious, and the knives piercing deeper and deeper. Finally it stopped. With a flick of his wand, the leather straps released. Harry was shocked. It had worked. A smile worked its way over his face. That meant that it was over, he could leave. A deep chuckle was heard from above him. The man swept the hair away from his face, shoving it behind his ears and leaving blood on his face. He picked up the four largest knives on the table and moved back towards Harry.
The child tried to move, but his body was too exhausted from the previous torture. Harrys breathing quickened, his eyes flickering everywhere. The man stopped next to the table and Harry tried to curl up into a ball. A hand stopped him. Harry winced. The fingers dug deep into a gouge that had been cut deep into his side. One of the knives glinted in the darkness. There was a whooshing sound and suddenly the knife was embedded into Harry shoulder blade. Harry cried out, screaming. The knife had pierced all the way through. Harry was now pinned to the table.
Another sound and the second knife was in his other shoulder, coaxing more petrified screams from the boy. Another knife went through the left side of his pelvic bone and the last knife took the right side. Harry was screaming continuously, delirious with pain. He was vaguely aware of the normal knife making an appearance. The knife trailed down the side of Harrys face, leaving a trail of blood but not cutting the skin. Harrys screams quieted as his throat became raw. It had become more painful to scream.
"Will you ever keep your voice from me again?" He asked quietly, his voice filled with a darkly amused tone. Harry tried to shake his head, but the knife was placed on the underside of his chin and prevented movement. "Will you?" He demanded, knife digging in. "No Sir." Harry whispered and He nodded. "Excellent. Good boy." And with that, he slashed the knife across Harrys throat. Blood rushed out of the even cut, making Harry gag and jerk as blood poured down his wind pipe and filled his lungs.
Everything faded to black, with the last thing Harry saw being the satisfied face of his torturer.
--
It had been a year since Harry Regulus Potter, the younger of the Potter twins and saviour of the Wizarding world, had mysteriously disappeared. The wizarding world had taken the loss hard, one of their beloved saviours kidnapped from his own backyard. Searches were organised, practically the entire continent was searched but still Harry remained missing. Public moral was low, but there was still the other saviour. William James Potter, the elder twin, became one of the two things talked about.
William became the shining beacon of hope for their world. And, though he was upset by the disappearance of his brother, he liked the attention. When Harry had still been with his family, he was hardly ever in the spot light because Harry didn't like the attention.
The press respected the wishes of their youngest saviour, for fear of an enraged public, and stayed away from Harry, only occasionally getting photos on special occasions. William, however, absolutely loved the attention, soaked it up like a sponge, but he was always supposed to be by his brothers side. It felt like absolute heaven now that Harry had disappeared. There was even more public adoration of him, with more demand for photos and interviews.
There were many, many sightings of Harry. And every time there was an article about it, the interest in William spiked again. And William always looked good, the press painted him as a hero who stepped forward heroically, despite the tragedy, and alleviated the public's doubts. Harry was painted as a martyr who sacrificed himself for the public, too young to have died fighting for his country. Even though there was absolutely no proof that he was dead, or even suffering. Theories of what happened the day of his disappearance abounded, one of the most popular being that a hoard of Death Eaters broke in and Harry fought them off to save his family, before one escaped. Harry chased him down and exited the wards. He was ambushed and kidnapped by Death Eaters then and died heroically for his people.
William received his Hogwarts letter, and the press had a field day when it was discovered that one was also sent to Harry Potter, though it returned unopened. The public was, once again, enthralled with the mystery of Harry Potters disappearance. Sightings again became a regular occurrence and whole sections of papers and magazines were dedicated to the Potter twins.
The entire ordeal was stressful for Lily Potter. Harry had always been her favourite son, no matter how much she denied having a favourite. He was quiet, sensitive, happy and just a beautiful child. And every time there was a sighting, she would personally go and check it out, only to return home devastated that her boy wasn't found. James Potter, however, was of the same mind as William.
The fact that James didn't seem to care about the disappearance of his youngest son, drove a wedge between the remaining Marauders. Remus Lupin, who had been closer to Lily than James for years, was absolutely disgusted. The only reason he even saw James anymore was because he was visiting Lily. James, however, wasn't too concerned with losing Remus as a close friend. In fact, he barely noticed the absence of the werewolf. Because he still had Sirius Black, his brother in all but blood.
But Sirius was getting pretty fed up with James as well. Sirius had, under protest, grown up and matured. Becoming more of an adult had forced him to realise that James was still a child. And a child who'd let his sons fame go to his head. He didn't accept responsibility for what he'd done, pranks were still at the forefront of his mind (along with Quidditch) and Sirius was astounded. He'd assumed that with the kidnapping of his youngest child, James would be devastated.
His callous response was 'Lily can have another child.'
And she did. Five months after Harry Potter was discovered missing, on the fifth of January 1991, Marianna Cassiopeia Potter was born. Looking at Marianna, Lily felt her heart break again. Harry had thick black hair that had flacks of red through it, where as Marianna had blue black hair. Harrys eyes were a bright emerald green, but hers were a peaceful blue green. But Marianna had the same pale skin, the same facial structure and had the same behaviour. Quiet, happy, loving and calm.
Wizarding Briton celebrated the birthdays of Marianna and William every year like they were public holidays, while Marianna, Lily, Sirius and Remus mourned the loss of Harry every day.
--
When Harry woke, he was back in his cell. Phantom pains shot through his body, forcing him to cry out and hold his shoulders and rub at his pelvic bone. Both his hands shot to his throat, pain hazed memories of it being slit were fresh in his mind and he wondered why he was still alive instead of rotting in a shallow grave somewhere. There was a chuckle from the darkness and the door was opened. Harry scrambled back, but couldn't move further away because he had been sitting in the corner.
The man knelt down so he was eye level with Harry and a hand caressed the scab that was healing the wound on Harrys neck. Harry whimpered and the man smiled. "This didn't have to happen, you know." He said and shook his head, standing up again. "Don't ever disobey me again, Child." He sneered and exited the cell, leaving Harry shaking, even though he was not cold.
Months passed, and then it had been over two years since he'd been kidnapped. Harrys memories of the outside world faded. The faces of his mother and father became blurred, the image of his brother became more fantasy than reality. He grew to know his tormentors features better than those of his family. He hadn't been able to correctly remember what his mother looked like since only a few months in captivity. Harry only vaguely remembered what he himself looked like.
Clear blue eyes were burned into his mind. Large, long fingered hands that could turn even a piece of string into a torture device and, on occasion, became deceptively loving would never be forgotten. Thick, straight blue black hair would be pulled into a high pony tail that grazed his upper back, and Harry knew how pieces would start to fall out during the middle of torture. Harry knew that there was one strand that would rest of the tip of the mans aquiline nose and it would be brushed away almost immediately, but a smear of blood would replace it. Black robes were discarded early on, giving way to a loose black top and low slung jeans.
Harry could imagine his face at any time. High cheek bones, an aristocratic nose, thin lips and pale as death skin. His lips would be up turned in a smirk that would be no less suited to The Devil himself. Often Harry thought about the cross necklace his maternal Grandmother had given him and wondered where her God was now. He'd always been told to trust in his faith. But it was impossible to trust what was nonexistent. The real prayers had stopped soon after his arrival; the empty words were purely for entertainment now.
But Harry had a new form of entertainment. After each session, Harry would be freed and the man would sit opposite him and clean all of his tools, even the ones that weren't used. Harry would be too sore and, half the time, barely conscious. So Harry studied the man and tried to figure out his name. Harry went through every name he knew, and made up some new names. But none of the names every seemed to fit the cold man that tortured him. Harry was afraid to ask in case questions were unwelcome, which would result in more torture. Harry still vividly remembered the feel of his throat being slashed, almost in two.
Scars amassed on his body, his skin became some sort of deranged piece of art. The scars were all thin, delicate almost. He grew out of his clothes, his pants becoming rags on him. Harry never noticed that his blankets were regularly replaced, becoming larger and often thicker and warmer. Nor did he wonder why, even though he was only fed two meals a day, he was growing normally. Those thoughts didn't enter his mind, which was often clouded with pain. All he knew was that his torturer was barely a man, more of a monster.
On his thirteenth birthday, Harry was woken up by the door to his cell opening. But Harry was too tired to move, his limbs felt like lead and his body was crusted with blood and dirt. He was, occasionally, washed. Which consisted of cold water being thrown on him. Harry tried to force his body to move, to stand, but it didn't co-operate. Harry would've been hyperventilating as he was picked up bridal style, except all his body wanted to do was relax and Harry was forced to comply, slipping back into sleep.
Regulus Black looked imperiously down at the boy cradled in his arms. The potion that was mixed in with his food appeared to have worked. He shut the cell door behind him as he walked through the dungeons and up stone steps. He opened the door and stepped out into the main house.
It was a two story house, but small. On the first floor there was a kitchen, a dining room and another room that Regulus had placed a grand piano in. On the second floor was a master bed room, an ensuite, a spare room and many cupboards. Of course, it hadn't been like that when he'd first arrived. Dirt and dust had covered every possible surface; the walls were a disgustingly bland washed out grey colour. The entire first floor was one room, as was the second. The ensuite hadn't been there, instead there had been an outhouse. Regulus had hired people to renovate the interior, and now the house was presentable.
The floors were hardwood, the walls were white and the ceilings had murals on them. Paintings of his ancestors and relatives adorned the walls, and the furniture was mahogany. There were silver and green accents everywhere, giving it a Slytherin touch. All in all, the house was presentable. Regulus started to walk up the stairs, careful that Harry wasn't jostled too much in his arms. Even though he was healthy, Harry was too thin. Regulus frowned, making a mental note to correct that.
He opened the door to his room, taking off his shoes. The flooring was shag carpeting. Regulus managed to slip off his cloak as well without placing Harry down. He moved towards the ensuite and placed Harry inside the bathtub. Claw footed with gold engravings on the outside, it was an antique. Regulus shed his shirt and threw it out of the bathroom, a pair of socks following soon after. He picked Harry up again, easily pulling off the scraps of cloth that had once been a pair of nice pants and underwear.
Regulus lowered Harry into the bath once more, propping the unconscious boy against the side of the tub as he turned on the taps. The bath tub filled with water, which was let out almost immediately. The water had turned a murky dark brown colour upon contact with Harrys dirty skin. Regulus filled the bath tub again and picked up a sponge. Gently he cleaned Harry off, making sure that Harry was clean. Using a brush, he untangled Harrys hair. The knots disappeared and Regulus washed Harrys hair as well.
The bath tub was emptied and Regulus towel dried Harry before carrying the child to his bed. The thick blankets and donah were pulled back and Harry was tucked in. Regulus picked up his discarded clothes and exited the room, leaving Harry to sleep off the potion.
--
Harry woke up slowly, the warmth trying to lull him back to sleep. Giving in, Harry was almost asleep before he remembered that he wasn't supposed to be warm. He was supposed to be in a cold, damp dungeon with only a blanket. But there was no hard wall behind his back, or underneath him. He couldn't hear the steady drip, drip, drip of water; instead he could hear the rhythmic breathing of a sleeping person. Instantly, upon realising that he wasn't where he was supposed to be, Harry was awake.
The sudden stiffening of his body woke Regulus up as well. Regulus had been sleeping next to him, above the covers. Harry flinched back as green eyes met blue. A slow smirk spread across his face. Harry nervously noted that he seemed to be naked under the covers, and shifted uncomfortably. The silk sheets felt heavenly against his skin, but the fact that he'd not felt anything but concrete, stone or metal against his bare skin for years made it uncomfortable.
"Hello Harry." It was the first time in a long time that Harry heard his name used. "I've a problem, Harry." He continued and Harry nodded, frightened. "You see, I've become attached to you. It was quite unexpected, I assure you. I always assumed that by this time I would have slit your throat and dumped you body in a ditch." Harry reached up, holding his throat. Regulus reached a hand up as well, caressing the silvery scar that ran across his throat, and Harry pulled his hand back. "Permanently, at least." Regulus amended.
"But something about you just draws me in. I can't explain it." Tears welled up in Harrys eyes. "Please, just let me go. I won't say anything. I won't tell them anything. I promise. Just, please, let me go!" Harry begged but Regulus merely smiled, carding his hand through Harrys thick hair. The hair reached the middle of Harrys back now, being uncut for just under three years. "I can't do that Harry. They don't love you." Regulus said. "James Potter certainly doesn't love you. He doesn't even care that you went missing. William is all anyone cares about anymore. You're just an afterthought. Your mother even had another child. A girl. Marianna is her name."
Harry shook his head, tear falling from his eyes. "No!" He said. "They love me. They would never replace me! Daddy loves me!" He cried and Regulus shook his head. "But they did, and he doesn't. They don't love you Harry.' Regulus leaned forward, pressing a kiss to Harrys forehead. He looked into Harrys eyes, the tips of their noses touching. "Not like I do." He added and Harry frowned, confused. The blankets were tugged away from Harry and Regulus wrapped him up into a hug. Harry struggled against the muscular arms holding him.
"No one will ever love you like I do." He snarled, the harsh sound making Harry shiver. Regulus let Harry go and the thirteen year old fell to the bed. "Cold?" Regulus asked. He leant forward and nuzzled into Harrys neck before he rolled off the bed. "Don't worry. I'll warm you up soon enough." He said. Regulus unbuttoned his slacks, tugging down the zip. The black pants fell to the floor and Regulus climbed back onto the bed, not worrying about his underwear.
Harry tried to back away, but he couldn't go farther than the head board. Harry grabbed for the blankets to try and cover himself, but Regulus threw them off the bed. "Don't worry Harry. I'm going to take good care of you." He said as his eyes hungrily devoured the scarred flesh presented before him. He crawled up the bed, stopping inches away from the scared boy in front of him. He leant forward and pressed his face into Harrys neck. He waited a moment before licking up Harrys neck, nipping his ear lobe. Harry whimpered as tears fell from his eyes.
Regulus moved forward again, taking the weight off his hands. He placed his hands on Harrys thighs, forcing his legs to the bed. Harry had had his legs curled up protectively in front of him and he closed his eyes as that small comfort was ripped away from him. Regulus frowned slightly. "Harry." His voice was hard and Harry opened his eyes to find that Regulus' face was almost touching his own. "I said that I would take care of you, didn't I?" He asked and Harry nodded. "Yes." "Then why are you afraid? Do you think I'm lying?" He asked and Harry shook his head. He knew that tone, it always came before a particularly intense torture session.
"I promise not to torture you again." He swore, before smirking. "Unless you want me to, that is." He said and Harry shook his head. "Relax. This will feel nice. So nice, in fact, that you're going to beg me for it." Regulus said and Harry whimpered again. Regulus rolled his eyes, his grip on Harrys thighs tightening. His long fingers dug in, and Harry would find bruises there later on. "What did I say, little one?" He asked, breath hot on Harrys ear. "I said you're going to beg me." He said and Harry nodded. "What...what am I begging for?" Harry asked and Regulus rolled his eyes.
"You're begging to be fucked by me. You can't wait until I'm deep inside you and you're screaming my name." He said and Harry nodded, and then tilted his head to the side, away from Regulus, confused. "But...but I don't know your name." Harry said and Regulus sneered. "My name is Regulus. Now, weren't you going to beg me for something?" He asked as his hand wandered up, closer to Harrys flaccid dick. Harry cringed. He'd hoped Regulus had forgotten about that.
"Please, R-Regulus..." Harry trailed off as Regulus grabbed his dick. "Hmm?" He inquired, as if he was unaware of what Harry was about to ask for. "I ... want ...you." Harry could feel the bile rising up the back of his throat. He'd read about this before, and it was just as sickening experiencing it as it was reading about it. "I-I need you to..." Harry trailed off. Regulus was playing with his dick, and Harry was ashamed to say that it was reacting. He couldn't help it, no matter how much Harry felt like dying.
"What? What do you need me to do?" Regulus asked, an insane grin stretching across his face and showing off the elongated canine teeth. He locked eyes with Harry, cocking an eyebrow. "Fuck me." Harry said, and had to swallow the bile back down. "What was that?" Regulus taunted. "I n-need you to...to fuck me,...Regulus." Regulus smirked. "I know. You need me, need to feel me moving inside you." He smirked and leant forward to suck on Harrys neck. He moved up, quickly attacking Harrys lips. When he pulled back, they were bruised and Regulus licked his lips.
He stopped playing with Harry and removed his underwear. With a quirk of his lips, he leant down and placed a kiss on the tip of Harrys dick before swallowing him to the base. Harry cried out, his hips involuntarily thrusting forward. Regulus pulled back and kissed Harry again. "Why so tense?" He asked Harry and placed his hands on Harrys thighs. With one movement, Regulus had pulled Harry so he was lying flat on the bed. Harry shook his head, trying to slap Regulus' hands away as the elder man spread Harrys legs.
Regulus growled, back handing Harry across his face. Harry yelled in pain, his lip splitting. Harry spat the blood gathering in his mouth onto the silk sheets in an act of defiance and he expected Regulus to yell and get angry, but Regulus merely raised an eyebrow. "Those sheets were Egyptian silk. Very expensive." He said. "You'll have to pay me back for them." Regulus said, smirk spreading across his face as he thrust two fingers into Harrys virgin arse, scissoring them to prepare Harry for his large member. Harry yelled in pain, trying to hit Regulus away from his body. And one of his fists actually connected with the side of Regulus' head. Harry froze.
"I-I didn't-" Harry was cut off as Regulus glared at him. "I was trying to be nice, you stupid fucking brat." He snarled. "Now, you can take what I give you." He climbed back up Harrys body, face to face with the teen, one hand being used to prop himself up so he didn't squash Harry. "Don't forget to scream." He hissed before lining himself up and thrusting to the hilt inside Harry. He screamed out in pain as Regulus relentlessly fucked his arse, not giving the inexperienced boy below him time to adjust
Harrys screams tapered off, turning into desperate sobs. He clutched at Regulus' broad shoulders, nails ripping into Regulus' skin. Regulus moaned as the long, jagged nails ripped into him. Harry smeared the blood across his back as he raked his nails down in pain, trying to find something to grip. Regulus used the hand that wasn't supporting his body weight to grab one of Harrys legs and lift it over his hip. Harry cried out, screaming again. Regulus switched arms and roughly yanked Harrys other leg over his hip. Harry was sobbing below him again as Regulus penetrated him further.
"Doesn't it feel good?" Regulus asked darkly and Harry cried harder. It did feel good. Every time Regulus thrust in, the pain left and pleasure shot through Harrys body. That was part of the reason Harry as crying, he didn't want it to feel good. Being raped wasn't supposed to feel good; he wasn't supposed to enjoy it. But it did and he was. The worst thing, Harry thought, was that Regulus knew he was enjoying it; could feel Harrys' erection pressing into his lower stomach.
"Say my name." Regulus ordered and Harry shook his head, clenching his eyes shut. "No!" He yelled and Regulus moaned. Harry was so tight around him, and whenever he shouted, he clenched his muscles. Whenever he was in pain (or pleasure), he tensed. Whenever Harry moved, he seemed to get tighter. "Scream my name, then." He ordered. He wrapped a hand around Harrys back, pulling the teen to him and making Harrys erection press into him harder. Harry groaned at the feeling. "No." Harry said stubbornly and Regulus smirked. Harrys eyes widened in fear. That was not a kind smirk.
Regulus unwrapped the legs from around his hips and pulled out. He forced Harrys legs into the position he wanted them to be in. Knees up near his shoulders, being held by Regulus' hands, Harry trembled in fear. Regulus moved forward again, throwing Harrys legs over his shoulders and positioning himself at Harrys entrance. Harry shook his head, trembling as Regulus spread his cheeks wide.
"Please...don't." He begged, becoming limp once more, and Regulus shook his head. "Say my name." He ordered again and Harry bit his lip. "Regulus." He said and Regulus looked at him. "Again." He ordered. "Regulu-" Harry was cut off as Regulus slammed into him, the name turning into a pitiful moan. Regulus continued to slam into Harry, hitting the teens prostate every time and soon enough Harry was hard again, much to his disgust. He felt nauseous as he heard and felt Regulus' balls slapping against his arse. Regulus bent his neck and started to suck on Harrys'.
The boy let out an involuntary moan at the feeling, thrashing his head side to side. Regulus growled and bit down onto Harry hard, at the junction of the shoulder and neck. Harry let out a quiet whine as Regulus started to pump his cock. Harry bucked his hips, tears coming to his eyes again. He couldn't help himself as he felt the pleasure welling just above his groin. His muscles tightened and Regulus' thrusts became harder, faster. Harry moaned again. Regulus continued to pump his length in time with the thrusts, reaching down to play with Harrys balls.
"Regulus!" Harry screamed out as he came, much to his shame and Regulus' glee. Harrys arse muscles clenched almost painfully around Regulus, who threw his head back and came as well, buried deep in the boy underneath him. Tears leaked from Harrys eyes as he felt himself be filled with Regulus' cum. Harry consoled himself with the thought that it was over. He'd be left alone now.
Regulus pulled out of him and let Harrys body drop back to the mattress. He wiped a finger in the cum that had started to leak out of Harrys arse and leant down, licking over the tight hole. Harrys eyes sprang open as he looked down at Regulus. "What? Did you think this was over?" Regulus asked, and then shook his head. "Harry. Little one. We've got all night. And then the rest of time." He said resting his head on Harrys thigh.
"Now, this time, are you going to say my name?" Regulus asked condescendingly and Harry nodded his head, tears gathering again. "Yes, Regulus." Regulus nodded. "Good. And are you going to hit me this time?" He asked and Harry shook his head fearfully. "No!" He half shouted and Regulus smiled at the boy. He reached up and caressed the boys face, almost lovingly. "Ready?" He asked. Harrys response was to clench his eyes shut. Regulus took that as a yes.
Regulus got back on his knees and placed his hands on Harrys hips. It was surprisingly easy to flip Harry so he was lying on his stomach. He was far too light. Harrys head snapped around, his eyes were wide and frightened. "Don't worry, Harry." Regulus said, pressing a kiss into Harrys lower back. He pulled Harry up so that he was on his knees, and Harry moved so he was leaning on his forearms himself, so his face wasn't pressed into the matress.
Regulus mounted Harry from behind, his long, hard length was pressing against Harrys arse. The thirteen year old whimpered, ducking his head. Regulus reached around and started to play with Harrys limp dick, his other hand fondling Harrys balls. Harry pressed his face into the mattress, ashamed at how easy it was to make him hard. Regulus placed both hands on Harrys hips in a bruising grip, lining himself up. He thrust in and Harrys muffled yell was heard. Regulus stopped, yanking Harrys head up by his hair.
"Didn't you learn your lesson about being silent when I pinned you to the table?" He asked and Harry nodded frantically. "You did? Good." Regulus resumed his grip and started to slam into Harry again, the boy allowing all of his yelps of pain to be heard. Harry let the tears fall down his face again as Regulus slammed into his prostate, resigning himself to a night filled with pain, humiliation, tears and forced sex.
