As the pain rippled through his abdomen, Harry forced his mind to disassociate from the pain and the humiliation, focusing solely on how much he hated Dumbledore and his idiotic portrait for insisting that any special training for his confrontation with Voldemort would inhibit the so called 'power the dark lord knows not'.
A little training in warding, learning to apparate or make a portkey, even being taught to fight physically and he wouldn't be in this mess. Crabbe and Goyle, in an effort to gain favor with Voldemort formed the most simplistic of plans to capture Harry. Crabbe had asked his father for an emergency portkey that would work in Hogwarts, and then together, the large young men waited outside the Gryffindor common room. When a first year student opened the portal that early morning in September, his face was met with Goyle's fist shortly before his body met the ground.
The pair snuck through the porthole, up the stairs and into Harry's room completely undetected. On the count of three, they had torn back the curtains surrounding Harry's bed, then jumped on him and activated the portkey. It had been idiotically easy to remove Harry from Hogwarts.
Awoken by the crushing bodyweight of the two behemoths, Harry fought his way free of their girth, and removed Crabbe's wand from the larger boy. Unfortunately, his trained did not teach him to compensate for using a wand that was not his own and he was unable to even cast a stunner before Goyle's fist met its second face of the day and Harry was quickly knocked unconscious.
Harry was brought back to the present when the pressure in from behind him was eased; he breathed half a sigh of relief before he suddenly felt an odd sharp pressure against his back. A moment later, the blade passed through his skin, muscle and organs and back out of his belly. Bellatrix giggled madly and cooed "if you wont pay attention when I penetrate you otherwise, this is how I'm forced to do it." Several death eaters seated around the pair as if watching a dinner show chuckled at the comment, "Now, do I pull my knife out and heal you and start again with my fun," she paused to twist the blade, "or do I need to demonstrate to you again that I will penetrate you one way or another?"
The room became silent, as the audience leaned forward, listening for Harry's reply. "I don't hear and answer," Bellatrix pouted, very slowly withdrawing the blade, twisting it every so often for her own sick amusement. She cast a sonorous spell on Harry and asked again, her tone now menacing and harsh instead of petulant and childlike, "Do I need to show you," she paused, pressing the blade between some ribs on the right side of Harry's upper back, "that I will get what I want, one way," she pressed down, the blade sinking several centimeters into Harry's flesh, "or another."
The pain from the blade was excruciating, Harry reflected from his disassociated point of view, almost admiring how efficient Bellatrix was in getting what she wanted…as he thought, the blade began pushing through his back and he cried out, "whatever you want!"
This brought not only Bellatrix, but the entire group of death eaters, up short. "What was that?" the crazy witch asked, "I don't think I heard you properly, I think you said that I can do whatever I want, but that can't be, because we both already knew that. I think you need to ask me what you want me to do, beg me for what you want me to do."
"Please," Harry begged, thinking that his pride was not worth the pain, he wanted to live, to be free of pain, to do anything to not feel so weak anymore, to be free, even in this defeat, he could be free of the pain, free of an idiotic old man, free of the pressure of being the savior for the ungrateful and disgusting citizens of the wizarding world. He could be a slave to Voldemort and be free of it all. "Please, mistress, please," he addressed her as she originally instructed him, before he saw the cost of pride, "please penetrate me in whatever way pleases you the most."
Strangely, he felt no shame, he felt no regret, even his anger faded away, he felt only anticipation. "Leave us," Bellatrix suddenly commanded the stunned audience. When nobody made a move, she held her wand aloft in her left hand and the blade, still covered in Harry's blood, aloft in her right, poised to attack with one or both of the implements of death and pain.
When the room had cleared, Bellatrix began walking in circles around him, "Harry, Harry, Harry," she chanted slowly, shaking her head slightly as if disappointed in him, "I thought you would be much more difficult to break," she leaned down, the violet of her eyes meeting the green of his, "or did I not break you," she whispered, "do you want this, crave it even. Do you get off on being violated and humiliated?" She ran her hands down his back, across his butt and down his legs, then dragged her fingernails back up, stopping to grope him, "Do I get you hard?" she asked, stroking him to an erection, "Knowing I killed your godfather, knowing I'm a murderer and I revel in pain and death and bath in the blood of innocent children." She spit on her hand and began stroking him harder, whispering throatily to him, "I think you like it! I think I'm every dark thought you want to act out and have never been able to, I think if I let you, you'd take your revenge on the world," he twitched in her hands, "That thought excites you the most, doesn't it?" She squeezed him tightly, "vengeance. Not on us who are evil, in your eyes, but on those who claim they fight us, those who expect you to sacrifice everything, suffer, so they may become richer and lazier." Harry was panting hard now as her hands steadily stroked him, "You'd swear a blood oath to sit by my side, as my sextoy if only for one shot to be as bad as you wanted to be, wouldn't you?"
Harry's head arched back, his eyes filled with lust and the fire of hatred and he yelled with all his might, "Yes!" as he shot his seed all over her hands. Several pumps of her fists and he was spent. As he panted and regained his breath, he spoke again, just a whisper, "Yes."
Bellatrix smiled, releasing his bonds and healing his back, "I shall teach you and you shall be mine to do with as I please, in time, I may view you as an equal, but that time is not yet. Let us first to our lord and have you marked."
Without hesitation Harry stood, nude, but uncaring and answered, "yes mistress," he smirked, his face reflecting a hard cruelty that had not been present before, "Anything you say." He stressed the word anything, his cock twitching slightly.
"You will be fun," Bella murmured, "I believe that my first order for you is to kill my husband, you are far more suitable a man for me, both powerful and obedient." Harry smiled a sharks smile and followed his mistress from the torture theater.
The pair entered Voldemorts throne room, which was crowded by a number of death eaters, many of whom had been forced from the theater by Bellatrix only moments before, all of them goggled at the unrestrained, nude form that followed her towards their lord.
"My lord," she said with a bow, before turning to Harry and raising an eyebrow.
He knelt, "My lord, my mistress wishes me to be marked and to enter your service."
"Leave us," Voldemort hissed at the assembled death eaters, "Rodolphus, Rabastan, please remain." The room cleared save for the Dark Lord, Bellatrix, the Lestrange brothers and the nude and still kneeling Harry Potter. "Potter comes to me and kneels of his own free will?" Voldemort half asked, half stated, addressing Bellatrix.
"My lord," she said, and when he inclined his head for her to continue, she did, "he comes to you not entirely of his free will. He accepted his place as my slave and it was I that ordered him to kneel before you."
"Such impudence," Voldemort hissed, "You dare order him to kneel before me, you dare presume such power?"
"My lord…" Bellatrix began.
"Silence," the snakelike man roared. "Crucio," he hissed, and Bellatrix fell to the ground writhing in agony.
No sooner had she fallen, than did Harry take his chance. He leapt to his feet, his eyes blazing at Voldemort as he moved towards the distracted dark lord. The Lestranges stepped between their master and the young man who glared defiantly at him.
The dark lord lifted the curse and turned towards Harry, "You have something you wish to say, boy?" he whispered dangerously.
"I do," Harry yelled defiantly, before lashing out at the distracted brothers, his fist impacting Rabastans throat as his foot impacted Rodolphus' groin. The pair both fell to the ground and Harry pounced on Rodolphus. His foot repeatedly fell on the man's throat, crushing it thoroughly. "Mistress," Harry called softly, as he kicked Rabastan in the face, "I can never remember which of these is your husband, I apologize if I've killed the wrong one." Bellatrix, from her place on the ground, smiled despite the residual pain coursing through her body as Harry continued, "so I'll just kill them both," and he proceeded to stomp both men until he could no longer detect their breathing.
Voldemort leaned back in his throne as he watched the display of pure rage play out before him, and chuckled when, after killing two of his inner circle, the young man again knelt before him as if nothing had occurred. "I apologize, Bella, I see that my anger at your presumptiveness was uncalled for. I believe that Mr. Potter, after being suitably purified and trained will make a fine replacement for both your husband and my inner circle." The almost warm tone Voldemort spoke in disappeared as he continued, "have him suitably trained, purified and groomed to join my ranks in six months and he shall take his place in my inner circle…If you should fail to prepare him adequately, he will not be the only one who pays the price. Leave me, and send Goyle and Pettigrew to clean up his mess."