Disclaimer: See first chapter.

Author's notes: Okay guys…this is the big chapter I've been getting you all psyched up about, and I had to change some of the warnings a bit too even worse warnings. But…what can I say? James is a very messed up individual in this story, so I'm posting the new ones here, and I'll be updating the ones in the first chapter as well.

Warning! This story touches on incest, physical and emotional abuse, attempted rape (this is clearly marked where it occurs), non-con touching, mental instability, cross dressing…and there may be more to come depending on how damn warped I am. You have been warned, read at your own digression.

However, if you choose not to read this chapter and still want to read the story, there is a brief summary at the end of this chapter.


Time had been building up to this one awful moment for more time than most could even imagine; Millions of chances, of changes in fate had been building up to this one horrible destiny for a poor innocent young man who could only stare in horror as the man who he once called his father placed four large boxes in front of him. A brief moment of time was spent wondering how James could not see the emotions playing across his son's face, but that one thought was lost and torn to shreds in a sea of chaos.

The first box opened to reveal what must have been the sun. Even in the dim lighting of the heavily darkened room the golden fabric seemed to glow and shine with an ethereal beauty that was difficult to describe. James proudly pulled the material from the box, unfolding it to reveal a long coattail blouse that would have most likely been more appropriate a century or two ago. Harry could easily tell that the long sleeved, high necked blouse would fit his body like a glove - especially once he saw the shimmering ribbons of the corseting at the lower back; the large bright brass buttons came down past where Harry's hips would be, the fabric going lower to the point that it would lightly caress Harry's knees if he were wearing it. Glancing in the box once more Harry could see a pair of pants in a lighter shade of gold inside. The outfit reminded him of something from a dream. For all that the regalia of the sun represented, Harry could not deny that it was beautiful.

Once the second box was opened, Harry felt his heart drop even further in his chest. With the first look at the outfit, Harry thought he was looking at the one intended for the stars, but instead this was the one of the moon. The fabric of the second outfit was heavier than the first, almost deceivingly unforgiving in nature. It strangely reminded Harry of a pearl in the way that it would almost change color and tone when looked at from another angle. Harry wanted to call the color white, perhaps silver, or even an extremely pale shade of blue, however, none of that would do it justice. The coat seemed to be modeled after a military uniform from long ago; with its high starched collar, and the silver buttons that ran down the chest slightly left of center. The outfit would cover Harry's upper body almost completely, but Harry could tell unless he had on high waist pants, his midriff would be available for all to see.

With the opening of the third box, Harry thought perhaps James had made a mistake and left him with an opening of escape, but his hopes were dashed as the stars were pulled from that second to last box. It was difficult to describe what was in front of him. At first glance the outfit of the stars seemed to be solid black, but once it was shown in the light like the others, Harry could see the small almost invisible threads of silver that seemed to come and go as they pleased. The third outfit seemed to be styled after a tuxedo jacket; it had an exaggerated long collar that was folded down in a way that Harry knew would accent the crème tones of his skin beautifully. Following down from the collar was an elegant silver clasp that closed above his pectorals, leaving a keyhole shaped opening a few inches long before buttoning at the chest almost like a vest. The tails of this coat were much longer than that of the sun, it was easy to see that if they were a few inches longer, they would be gracing the floor.

Staring down at all three outfits, all of them gleaming brightly in the darkened room, Harry couldn't help but marvel at their beauty. There was no way for him to pick out one as his absolute favorite, for all were amazing within their own right. He knew that when he picked out those outfits, that it would be impossible for him to wear them on a regular basis (at the time thinking that his father wouldn't be able to get them at all), but now Harry was starting to realize he added another lock onto his own imprisonment. It was easy for him to see now that James had no intention of ever letting him go.

James almost didn't bother opening the fourth box, confident that he had met their agreement completely, but wanting to cement the deal in finality. Once Harry opened the fourth box he felt as though a whole had been punched through his chest, mourning for the beautiful creatures that surely died for this elegant cloak. Harry had thought this one item would be the most difficult to gather, and would surely stop his father in his tracks. Never did Harry want such beautiful creatures like that of the fox to die for something such as clothing. Harry let his hand caress the almost velvet feel of the black fur, only pausing as he felt the weight of James' large hand coming to rest on his shoulder.

"It's getting late Harry. I brought you a special desert for dinner as well. Let's enjoy it shall we? We have a long night ahead of us after all." James slid his hand down to Harry's lower back, guiding him from the room and away from the hidden stash of painkillers that Harry originally planned to drug his father with once more; Harry knew he wouldn't have time to go back for them.


"I was thinking Harry, that maybe with our marriage we should look at a change of scenery. Maybe we should move out of this dreary town and head to the countryside...or maybe that's still too close to London. What if we move out of the country? I recall you mentioning you loved seeing the pictures of Florence, maybe we should move there. What do you think love? Love?"

Harry stared down at the piece of chocolate cheesecake in front of him, having not heard a thing James had said. Instead he was focusing on the fact that he felt as though he was an inmate about to receive his final meal. The cheesecake was one they had tried many years ago when Harry was a small child and Sirius chose to surprise them with a spur of the moment trip to France. They had been walking the sidewalks of an isolated small village when the intoxicating scent of chocolate had hit them, nearly sending them into madness until they found the pastry shop tucked away off a small alleyway. For this 'momentous' occasion James had somehow managed to send out for the hard to find treat, having it carefully shipped all the way to London for their dining pleasure before what one may call, their 'honeymoon'.

"Is something wrong Harry? Do you not like it anymore?" James leaned down behind Harry, the wisps of his breath tickling the hair of Harry's neck.

"No... It's just," Harry tried to swallow in an attempt to speak, but it only made things harder. "I guess I'm nervous about tonight."

"There's no need to be nervous love, I'll take care of you. I promise tonight will be something magical that we'll both remember for the rest of our lives." James' voice was barely above that of a whisper, his lips dangerously close to Harry's smooth skin. "How about you go take a bath love? I'll get everything ready for us."

Warning! Warning! Read at your own digression!

Locked in the hall bathroom, Harry never did actually step into the steaming warm bathtub situated next to the sink. Instead he looked into the mirror, easily reading his own fear as he stared into those wide dark green eyes that were his own and yet seemed to belong to a stranger. He had no idea how he was going to do this without failing; he needed to get the key from around his father's neck, his passport that was locked away in his father's study, and grab his already packed suitcase…all without his father's knowledge. It seemed impossible for Harry to do on his own, yet he knew no one would be coming to his aid; Remus was already off in Madrid waiting for his phone call, and Sirius had gone with him at the last moment (although, as far as he was aware of, Remus had yet to explain the situation to Sirius). No, Harry was by himself on this one, and he was quickly coming to the conclusion that he would not be making it through the night with his virginity still intact.

Harry slipped back into his boxers before pulling on the black satin pajama bottoms his father had purchased for him before the revelation, trying to put as many layers between them as possible before the...main event. Stepping out into the hallway, Harry made his way to his father's room and lightly tapped on the door, waiting in silence for over a minute and yet receiving no response. His hands were shaking as he opened the door, and he couldn't decide if he felt relieved or not to see that the room was empty.

It was only after he stepped out of the room and closed the door once more that fear coursed though him. James must intend for everything to occur in his room...the room where Harry's cell phone and escape supplies were waiting. Somehow stopping himself from running across the wooden floors, Harry quickly opened his bedroom door and paled considerably when his wide eyes landed on the cell phone being gripped firmly in James' hand.

"Would you care to explain this love?" James' voice practically shook with fury, eyes blazing as he slowly walked across the bedroom floor.

"I...it's a toy phone. It must be from that time months ago that we watched Victoire for Bill while Fleur was away visiting family." Harry had no idea why he didn't run, even if he knew that running would be pointless.

"Is that so? Well then...when I made a call to the one number listed in its memory...why the fuck did Remus pick up on the other end?!" James all but yelled as he threw the phone at the wall, keeping his attention on Harry even as it smashed to pieces. "I told you to stay away from him Harry. They'll separate us, they won't understand! Are you seeing him Harry? Have you been talking to him?! Have you chosen that bastard over me?"

"NO! No, not at all James!" Harry backed up in attempt to slip out the door, but ended up backing up into the wall instead; James' hands came up to plant themselves on either side of Harry's head. "I really don't know how it got in there. I wouldn't do anything with Remus. I love you dad!"

"...What...What did you just call me?" James' voice dropped down to a whisper, his hand flying back and slapping Harry across the cheek and down to the floor. "I told you not to call me that! Ever!"

"I'm sorry...I'm sorry!" Harry held his hand to his already bruising face, shaking as tears tried to squeeze themselves from his eyes. Even through tear filled eyes Harry could see the rollercoaster of emotion that seemed to play across James' face as the unstable man went from being furious to attentive in only a few seconds.

"Do you see what you make me do when you misbehave Harry?" James knelt down next to him and gently pulled Harry's hand from his swelling cheek before lifting him up in his arms. "I only do these things because I love you Harry."

"J-James," Harry choked out as James lowered him onto the bed, dazed as James unbuttoned his own shirt before climbing over Harry's prostrated body, the bed dipping with his weight. "Please...stop."

"I love you Harry," James pressed a kiss to Harry's neck before biting down sharply, causing the teen to jerk and rear back in pain. He was so focused on Harry's neck and reaching for Harry's pants that he didn't notice Harry's hand slip off to the side, scrabbling for the bedside table and grabbing at the first large object his fingers landed on. "Don't leave me, don't ever leave me."

"I love you too James," Harry whispered shakily as he swung his arm up, slamming the object into the side of his father's head as hard as he could.

END WARNING, END WARNING!!

It seemed like something right out the movies; the way James had fallen to the side once Harry's old alarm clock was bashed into the side of his head. Perhaps it was something out of a nightmare instead. A horrible nightmare of his darkest imagination, for only that could explain the haze that seemed to surround everything as Harry stood from the bed and straightened his pajama pants.

Harry barely remembered grabbing his bag, his passport, and even the key from around his father's neck. It was only after he hailed down a taxi and directed it to Heathrow airport that he realized he amazingly remembered to grab his shoes, even if he was still in his pajamas. He didn't know why he grabbed the extravagant last four gifts his father had given him, and he didn't know why he didn't call the police.

Perhaps...perhaps before Harry got on his flight, he would call the police anonymously to go and see if James was still alive. Although, he wasn't sure James would be after seeing that large puddle of blood around him.


Story summary for those who chose to skip the chapter: Harry's items are displayed at the very beginning (I should have pictures of the inspiration for these displayed in my profile within the next 24 hours if you would like to take a look). After a desert and a bath, Harry returns to his room to find that James found the cell phone from Remus. James attacks Harry physically and attempts to rape him, but is stopped when Harry knocks him out with an alarm clock. Harry fled in the middle of the night to the airport, not knowing if James is alive or dead.

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