Chapter 6

Harry's first instinct was to run. Rylan was a sorcerer, powerful enough to remain undetected while literally spending all his time near Bram the Red for years and years, and Harry stood not a single chance against him.

Fuck, he really was a sheltered little swot, wasn't he?

But running was not an option. Many had tried, but soon learned that the collar prevented them from moving past certain warded points in the city and that it acted like a beacon, making it easy for Karakas to find them.

A lot of students, the first time they were allowed to move about the city on their own to run some errands, attempted at least once to escape. But they never stayed out for more than a day, overwhelmed by the city, trapped by the extensive wards, and usually resigned once Karakas picked them up.

Punishment for this was usually two weeks locked in a room by themselves while only receiving water and bland porridge, so they could carefully consider their poor choices, according to Karakas. And for most of them, this was enough to ensure they never tried to escape again.

Occasionally, a student proved more stubborn. Harry well remembered one teenager named Maron, who made a sport of sneaking out of the school as often as he could. Karakas had gone easy on him at first, as he usually did with all the kids, but after the fifth time of having to haul Maron back to the school after yet another escape attempt, even Karakas got truly fed up, had Maron tied to a post in the courtyard, and had him whipped while he made every single student watch. And afterwards Genka had been forbidden to heal Maron with magic, and the boy had spent two weeks in the hospital before he could even walk a few steps again.

Harry had been nine at the time and he'd decided that simply trying to run away was a waste of time unless he could get that blasted collar off first.

Which meant that now there was no escape.

Rylan summoned him, and Harry had to go.

"Sweetheart," his mother said as she crouched down in front of him, while Harry still sat quietly on the floor of the storage room. "You have to pull yourself together and make a plan. Rylan likes playing games, but for the most part, if you don't fight back, he won't hurt you too much. The more you fight, the more he will hurt you."

"Use your occlumency to hide your emotions," Charis said with a stern look. "You're proficient enough to accomplish that, Harry. Put up an act. Play pretend."

Dorea nodded her agreement. "Yes, pretend you're curious about him. Butter him up. You're not one of the small children he so likes to torture. You're fifteen, practically a young man."

"You can do this, Harry." His father gave Harry a warm, encouraging smile. "You've survived Voldemort when you were a baby. You can survive this bastard as well, I just know it."

"And what's the worst that can happen?" Auntie Eustice mused while she barely glanced at Harry. "He kills you, and then we all lose access to the library." When Harry whipped his head up to glare at her, she winked at him with a teasing little smile and somehow that made Harry chuckle.

Inhaling a deep breath, Harry pushed himself up to his feet and started compartmentalizing his mind. Charis was right. Harry was good at occlumency, Charis had personally seen to that. He just had to organize this mind in such a way that he could pretend to not be more terrified than he'd ever been in his life.

"There you go," Euphemia said while beaming at him. "Remember, you come from a few long, strong lines of Gryffindors."

Auntie Eustice obnoxiously cleared her throat.

"Yes, and a few Ravenclaws and Slytherins," Euphemia added while glancing briefly at Eustice and Charis. "The point is, Harry, that you're not alone in this. We're here for you, always. We'll be here for you once you return, just call us."

Harry nodded, his heart beat slowly going back to normal. "Yeah, everyone else here has to deal with that monster sooner or later. Guess it's my turn now."

The sound of students walking through the corridors outside indicated that classes were over and Harry knew Karakas would come looking for him soon enough, so he squared his shoulders, made sure his mind was clear and snuck back out of the storage room. He brushed his thumb across the amulet, sending all his relatives back to the afterlife for now. He appreciated their support, but he didn't need them to see any of what was to come.

Rindyll found him, took one look at his pale face and pulled him to the side.

"Bram's dead, Rylan's in charge and he will summon me soon," Harry whispered, and Rindyll didn't even bother asking how Harry knew all these things. She simply wrapped her arms around Harry's neck and pulled him in a tight hug. They were of an equal hight, and Harry hugged her back, resting his cheek on her shoulder.

"Pretend you want to be there," Rindyll said softly in his ear. "That makes it easier, I find."

"Yeah, that was the plan." Harry released her and gave her a small smile. Everyone he knew had been through this, were still going through this, being whored out, being forced to have sex. And Harry knew that if they could do it, than he could, too.

"There you are," Karakas huffed as he hurried around the corner. "Harry, come along."

With one last smile aimed at Rindyll, Harry followed after Karakas, who made his way to the entrance of the school.

"Dreadful news. Bram is dead, done in by an assassin sent by Rolf the Wretched. Such cowardly business. Now Rylan wants to see us both." Karakas made it all sound as if it was business as usual, as if their whole world hadn't just been turned upside down, but Harry noticed that he looked paler than usual and smelled strongly of boksala, as though he'd just downed a few shots before coming to find Harry. Since there was little else he could do, Harry decided to play along and pretend there was nothing amiss. His occlumency did help enormously with keeping his emotions firmly under wraps.

The carriage Rylan had sent was a small, covered two-seater, with a coachman sitting outside, while a team of stocky brown ponies pulled the whole thing. Harry climbed in it, some hidden parts of him quite excited because he'd never been in a carriage before, had never really been in any mode of transportation before, except perhaps while he was living with the Dursleys, but Harry barely had any detailed memories of that time, aside from that bloody cupboard. Just general feelings of pain and fear and hunger whenever he thought of them, which wasn't often those days.

Karakas got in beside Harry, manoeuvring his staff just so that it fit in the cramped carriage as well, and the coachmen urged the ponies to walk as soon as Karakas closed the door. Staffs were interesting things, Harry was learning. One was expected to make their own, usually when they were in their late teens and were able to cast magic readily. Staffs were personal, made up of lots of magical items a sorcerer found and used along the way. And most peculiarly, they absorbed a tiny amount of magic every time they were used, making them stronger and more powerful the older they were. Harry had read accounts of staffs that were passed down for generations, from one sorcerer to the next, and became extraordinarily powerful tools, allowing even the weakest sorcerers to cast amazing spells.

Harry snorted quietly. So the occlumency was working, if he was able to muse about the functionality of staffs while being led to his metaphorical slaughter.

"Best remove that, child," Karakas said, gesturing at the amulet around Harry's neck. "It's one of a kind."

Harry felt a sudden rush of mild panic at the idea of Rylan stealing his amulet, and he pulled it off over his head and quickly stuffed it in his expanded satchel. He doubted Rylan would want to look in there, as most people merely kept used handkerchiefs in it. "Couldn't you make a new one, if I lost this one?"

Karakas chuckled softly. "Ah, would that be the case I would have already. That one is the only one I have and it was a gift."

Harry blinked at his teacher, genuinely surprised. He'd always thought Karakas had made the amulet himself.

"I'm no necromancer, Harry." Karakas waved a hand around in a nonchalant gesture. "I dabble, more than most, I suppose, but I don't have the talent for the real work."

"Then who gave you this amulet?" Harry asked, unable to supress his curiosity no matter how much occlumency he was using at that moment.

"Ah, that was the only necromancer I've ever met, back when we were still being hunted. Arwan the Ancient. Lived up to his name, that one. Most powerful sorcerer I've ever met, though he looked like he already had one foot in the grave and the other wasn't far behind. Old, grizzled, thin as a skeleton. But his power, oh by the sun goddess, he had power." Karakas smiled while his eyes were distant, probably lost in old memories. "He was so happy I showed some talent for the deathly crafts, so he taught me what he could in the time we travelled together, and he gave me that amulet. But I could never make it work right, not like you can."

"What became of him?" Harry asked, transfixed with the idea of a powerful necromancer who was out there somewhere. Perhaps Harry could look him up once he escaped and perhaps he could teach Harry more than Karakas could.

"That was many decades ago, child. If I had to have a guess, I'd say Arwan perished not long after I met him. He sure looked like he wasn't long anymore for this world."

"Ah." Harry sighed in the mild disappointment he felt. Still, Karakas wasn't sure Arwan was dead, so Harry filed that name way in his mind and promised himself he would find out what happened to the old necromancer.

The sun was slowly setting, but there was still plenty of light outside to see the city around them, and Harry stared out the window at the parts of the city he'd never been to before. They descended the side of the mountain through cobbled streets, filled with people and horses and carts pulled by pankies. Harry got a much better look at Shit Creek while they rode along a particular wide street just above it, but then they turned up the side of the mountain again, now on the main road that led to the castle that they could see looming over them.

It was made up of the white stone that most of Misty Springs was constructed out of, and that was quarried locally deep in the mountains. The bell tower with its mechanical clock was the highest point of the castle, but there were many other spires that were almost as tall. Different layers of walls divided the outer compound from the inner keep, with many iron gates operated by thick chains on huge wheels.

The carriage passed through them all without any problems and Harry realized they weren't the only ones making their way into the keep. The moment they stepped out of the carriage a servant dressed in a blue tunic urged them to follow him. They moved amongst a throng of people all walking inside the great stone hall where many tables were set up to house hundreds of guests. Harry looked at everything around him with wide eyes, especially at the diverse crowd made up of warriors and ladies in fancy gowns, and portly merchants and exited craftspeople. Everyone who was anyone in Misty Springs was there, Harry thought.

The servant led them to the main table and that was when Harry got his first glimpse of
Rylan Bloodstone in a long time. From what Harry remembered the man hadn't changed one bit as he lounged in the biggest chair at the centre of the table. He glanced up at Karakas and Harry and gave them a big smile, his scarred face creasing up in ways it probably shouldn't, but otherwise he didn't bother them and the servant urged Harry and Karakas to sit down a little further down the main table.

All around them people sat down as servant after servant carried more dishes of food to the many tables than Harry had ever seen before. Loaves of dark bread too numerous to count, huge chunks of roasted meat with the bones sticking out, many golden pies filled with who knows what, and baskets of cheese and bowls of olives. Harry wasn't sure what a lot of the foods before him even were.

A servant poured a red liquid in Harry's tin cup before he could tell the man no.

"It's wine," Karakas whispered straight into his ear, as all the chattering voices around them reached an impossible volume, almost overwhelming Harry to the point that his occlumency shields strained painfully. "It's made from grapes they grow all the way in the Crescent Peaks and it costs a fortune to transport it here."

Harry sipped his cup and found himself pleasantly surprised. This wine was alcoholic but had a pleasant, sweet taste. Nothing like the strong, dry flavour of boksala Harry had tried when Karakas had offered him a shot in celebration of Harry reanimating his first mouse recently. No, wine was much, much better.

"Drink, child," Karakas urged him quietly. "It'll make things easier for you later."

Harry refused to wonder what would happen later and instead steadily sipped his cup of wine as everyone around them got settled.

"Today we have lost a great warrior and an even greater leader," Rylan shouted as he got up, holding a tankard up high. Around them the noise died down at once as everyone looked to their new leader. "Bram was undefeated and only a cowardly assassination could do him in at the end. His likeness will never walk this world again and we are poorer for it."

Around them many people voiced their agreement with shouts and jeers, as people raised their cups in a salute.

"But Bram was not one for regrets and would not want us to sit around moping in his name. So tonight, we feast and we remember. All that have tales to tell of Bram will be heard here this night. For now, let's eat!"

And Rylan sat down again to a thunderous applause as everyone reached for the food and served themselves until their plates overflowed.

Harry didn't have much of an appetite, his stomach tied up in knots, but he did manage to try some of the cheeses and cured meats which he all washed down with plenty of wine. Around them, one after the other, people got up and told loud and epic stories of Bram the warrior and his many heroic deeds on the battle field. As the night progressed and the alcohol loosened more and more tongues, others got up as well to speak. Ladies who praised the size of Bram's manhood and his stamina, and warriors who spoke of how Bram would fuck captured enemy women one after the other in a row while their dead male relatives still lay around them.

Harry drank more wine.

As the night progressed and the organized individual storytelling had transformed into a cacophony of many stories being shared at great volume all around the hall, Harry felt a tap on his shoulder. He looked up and saw Rylan standing behind him, grey eyes obviously amused.

"Come, boy, we have a few things to settle." And without saying another word, Rylan turned on his heels and marched out of the hall through a narrow side door.

Harry wanted to puke because he knew he couldn't refuse. Karakas elbowed him rather harshly in his side. "Go, child. Don't keep that man waiting, not for anything. Just do as he wishes and don't fight him."

Pushing himself up from his seat, Harry wobbled a little as he steadied himself with one hand on Karakas' shoulder but eventually he found his balance and shuffled out of the hall in the direction Rylan had disappeared in.

Right as Harry wondered how he was ever going to find the man in this huge castle, he found Rylan waiting for him on the other side of the unremarkable wooden door. Harry looked up at him and blinked, trying to clear his eyesight. Rylan was almost a foot taller than him and at least twice as broad.

"Are you drunk, boy?" Rylan started walking again and Harry followed.

"I think so," Harry said honestly, since he didn't think there was a point in trying to deny such an obvious thing. "But that's probably a good thing, since I've never done this before."

Rylan paused for a moment and glanced at Harry over his shoulder. "You've never…you mean you're a virgin, boy?"

"Yep." Harry made an obvious gesture with his hand. "Only ever really wanked, until now, and even that hasn't been that often. Do you know how little privacy there is at our school?"

Rylan cackled while shaking his head in obvious delight. "Oh, I am going to enjoy breaking you in, my precious boy."

They reached a long corridor with a huge pair of wooden doors at the end. Two guards stood on either side of them, and they pushed the doors open for Rylan and Harry.

The rooms beyond were large and luxurious, with many soft, fur rugs covering the stone floors and many colourful tapestries covering the stone walls. Wooden furniture filled the rooms, with chairs and cabinets and tables and in the room adjacent to the first one, there was a large, wooden bed with four posts and white linen curtains all around them. In a room further down Harry could hear water running and it seemed that the master suite had its own bathroom with running spring water.

"Let's take the edge of first, boy, so you stop looking like I'm about to bite off your head." Rylan stood in the middle of the sitting room and pulled off his leather vest, leaving his scarred and tattooed chest bare save for the red stone hanging from a gold chain, and he untied his linen pants so they fell open at the crotch, revealed his hardening cock. "Kneel and suck me off."

Harry blinked a few times, his head swimming, but he did as he was told, even though deep inside his mind, firmly behind his thickest occlumency walls, he was screaming. Inhaling a deep breath, Harry sank to his knees, thankfully on a rug, and wrapped a hand around Rylan's cock. He swallowed, once, twice, before sucking the thing into his mouth.

Rylan gave him some instructions, one hand firmly gripping onto Harry's hair as he guided Harry's mouth up and down his cock. Harry just let it happen, blissfully drunk and barely aware what was going on.

Before long, Rylan came and shot his seed down Harry's tongue and Harry swallowed because what else could he do.

"Take your clothes off," Rylan said, a unexpectedly soft smile on his face. "And come stand in front of me."

Harry did as he was told, shucking the white, knee-length tunic he always wore and untying the thin loincloth until that too dropped to the floor and he was left naked. He managed to climb to his feet without falling over and the moment he stood in front of Rylan a hand wrapped around his cock and started jacking him off.

"You see, Harry," Rylan said softly, his hand working steadily while Harry's cock quickly grew hard. "I'm a simple man. You do something nice for me, I do something nice for you. As long as you remember that, we'll get along splendidly."

"Yeah, all right," Harry slurred, slowly falling against Rylan face first because fucking hell, he wasn't made of stone and someone pulling on his cock with expert strokes had a very positive effect on him, okay, no matter the dire circumstances.

It took an embarrassingly sort time for Harry to come and shoot his seed all over the fur rug beneath his feet. It still felt fucking amazing, though, no matter it was a monster that just gave him his first shared orgasm.

"We'll get you trained up a bit, my boy, so you last longer." Rylan was grinning at him before giving him a push towards the bedroom. "Now I'm going to fuck your ass open, Harry. It'll be uncomfortable the first few times, but you'll learn to love it soon enough, I promise."

Harry doubted all of this very much, but his body was slack with wine and a recent orgasm, so he shuffled into the bedroom and let Rylan push him onto the white sheets, face first so his ass was sticking up in the air while his feet remained firmly on the ground.

Rylan took his time and used lots of oil, which Harry vaguely realized was probably very nice of him. It still felt weird, to have fingers moving in and out of his ass of all places, and once Rylan replaced those with his hard cock it downright burned, but Harry held still and squeezed his eyes shut and reminded himself that so many kids had endured so much worse at the hands of this man, and that this was nothing and Harry could take it.

When Rylan approached his climax, he reached around and jerked Harry off again and that felt good, really good, Harry couldn't deny that.

Afterwards, they lay side by side on the bed, covered in sweat and semen, while Rylan pushed a full cup of wine in Harry's hands. "You did good, boy. We'll do this again in a few days."

Harry wanted to protest, but he couldn't, so he just drank more wine because that dulled his senses to the point that even the part of him that was screaming behind his occlumency shields shut the fuck up.

"When we first met, you were wearing such a pretty necklace," Rylan said, trailing a finger down Harry's warm chest. "Where did it go?"

"Er…" Harry blinked and turned his head to look at a very blurry Rylan. "Karakas took it back, cause I summoned too many people."

"Ah." Rylan leaned up on his elbow as he licked his lips. "But you got it to work?"

"Yeah," Harry said with a sigh. "Got to talk to my parents. They died when I was a baby, so that was nice, having them around."

Rylan's smile was unexpectantly sweet, even if the scars on his face belied that sentiment. "I'm glad you got to meet them. Tell Karakas to return the necklace to you. I want you to keep summoning, Harry."

"All right," Harry easily agreed, and then he knew no more because he fell asleep.

The next morning, Rylan woke Harry up with a hot cup of herbal tea and let him use the facilities before bending him over again for a morning fuck. This time Harry was significantly more sober and Rylan shoving his hard cock up Harry's ass hurt a lot more somehow, but Harry endured and even got to have his own orgasm when Rylan reached around again.

"You're doing good, Harry." Rylan patted him on his ass while a servant came to lead Harry away after they were done. Harry scrambled to get dressed while Rylan walked around his bedroom stark naked, uncaring who saw him that way. "I will sent for you in a few days."

And that was that. Harry had faced his boogieman, and he lived to tell the tale, even if his arse burned like crazy. Halfway out of the castle, Harry's stomach suddenly sat up and let him know it wasn't happy about anything anymore, and Harry bent double and threw up right in the middle of an empty hallway. The servant sniffed but waved away Harry's apologies and simply urged him out of the castle and into the waiting carriage.

The ride back to the school was quiet and Harry stared out over the city and wondered how long he was going to have to play fuckboy to Rylan. Would Rylan grow tired of him? What would he do then? And was it wrong that Harry actually had enjoyed the orgasms Rylan gave him even when he hated the man?

By the time he arrived at the school, Harry's head was pounding with a nasty headache and he lowered his occlumency shields and was suddenly overcome with shame and nausea. Harry didn't bother entering the school, he just walked around the buildings, all the way to the back where the springs were, and he yanked his clothes off and sat down in shallow pool and cried.

It had been ages and ages since Harry had shed a tear for anyone, probably not since Roy had died, but now Harry couldn't stop himself from succumbing to violent sobs.

Rindyll found him, and without saying a word she slipped out of her own clothes and sank in the water beside him. When Harry didn't object, she wrapped an arm around his shoulders and pulled him into a hug.

"Was it very bad?" Rindyll whispered, pressing her head against Harry's.

"No, not really," Harry said, wiping a wet hand across his eyes. "That somehow makes it worse."

"He got you off?" Rindyll guessed.

"Yeah. Three times. That fucker." Harry suddenly found himself extraordinarily pissed off about this, that his rapist had given him his first orgasms like that.

Rindyll nodded in understanding. "Yeah, there's this one guy who I see a lot, who just loves eating me out. Like, will go at it for hours. Makes me come at least three, four times. At first I hated it, but now I just enjoy it. I figure it's the least that bastard can do for me, you know, make me feel good while he abuses me."

"Huh." Harry blinked and stared at Rindyll. "That is a good way to look at it. Rylan seemed to want me to enjoy it, or at least parts of it. He wasn't overly cruel, just to the point."

"So enjoy what you can, Harry. There's no one going to hate you for that."

Inhaling a deep breath, Harry decided to do just that. He was stuck in a situation without an immediate escape, and instead of just fighting everything every step of the way, he could just enjoy the bits that were enjoyable while still planning his escape and revenge.

It took Harry a day before he felt ready to summon his family, because every time he reached for his amulet he felt an odd sense of shame. But he wasn't about to let Rylan and his rapist ways steal away Harry's family, so eventually he pulled himself together and summoned his mother.

"How are you, Harry?" Lily said with a warm smile without drowning it in unwelcome sympathy.

"I'm alive." Harry shrugged, barely looking at his mother. "It wasn't too bad. He was pretty gentle, all things considered."

"You survived, Harry," his mum said, floating closer to him. "That's the most important thing. Rylan will get what's coming to him, I promise, but you have to survive in the meantime."

His mother's kind acceptance made Harry confident enough to summon the rest of his family, who were equally practical about the whole thing.

"Just keep buttering him up," Dorea said with an encouraging smile. "There is no shame in manipulating him in getting what is best for you, Harry."

"And use your occlumency, Harry. There is no shame in making this easier for yourself, either," Charis added.

"I'm proud of you," his father said. "You're a survivor and you're growing stronger by the day. You won't always be a slave."

Harry took his family's words to heart and counted himself very lucky to have these people around him.

When Rylan summoned him again a few days later, Harry felt much calmer as he rode the carriage to the castle. He knew what to expect now, and he knew that it wasn't the end of the world. He could survive this.

Rylan fucked him a few times, like before, and he made sure every time that Harry got off, too, which Harry appreciated. And while it felt unpleasant and uncomfortable to be fucked in the ass, at least it didn't hurt anymore like it had done at first. In between rounds of fucking they lay on the bed and Rylan gazed at the amulet around Harry's neck.

"Show me," Rylan whispered, brushing his lips across one of Harry's nipples. "Use it."

Harry swallowed and brushed his thumb across the amulet to summon his mum, figuring she was the more level-headed one of his parents. Though part of him wanted to sick his Auntie Eustice on Rylan, he figured that might be a little bit too much of a good thing.

"My dear, dear boy," Rylan said, grey eyes practically glowing, as he looked between Harry and his mum. "You do have the gift. No wonder Karakas calls you his little diamond." Rylan placed his hand on Harry's where it still rested on the amulet. "Make no mistake, boy, you are a diamond yet to be shaped, and I will be the one shaping you."

And right after that Rylan had turned Harry over on the bed and fucked him hard and long, and Harry had barely enough time to dismiss his mum before Rylan rammed his cock inside Harry's ass, because there were some things Harry didn't want his mum to ever see.

And so started Harry's very strange relationship with Rylan Bloodstone.

Over the next weeks and months, Harry saw the man usually twice a week for a night. Half the time Rylan was there in the morning for a quick wake-up fuck, but other times a servant gave Harry some breakfast and led him out of the castle.

And surprisingly, Harry started enjoying being fucked in the ass. Rylan always went out of his way to make sure Harry was well-prepared and he always jerked him off, and the feeling of Rylan's cock sliding in and out of his body also became pleasurable all by itself. It surprised Harry, but he let it happen and tried not to beat himself up about it and enjoyed what he could about their encounters.

And in between all the sex, Rylan would talk to him, ask him about his magical studies. It was funny, in a way. Rylan never verbally confirmed to Harry that he was a sorcerer, but he always talked about magic in the way only a sorcerer could, from a place of vast experience. And he always answered Harry's questions and Harry felt emboldened to ask more and more invasive questions because Rylan never shut him down.

"What are these for?" Harry asked, as they lay on the bed together and Harry trailed a finger across some of the many tattoos on Rylan's chest.

"Can't you read them?" Rylan curved one dark eyebrow as he glanced at Harry.

Raising himself up a little, Harry studied the runes on Rylan's chest. "Some of them. This is connection, and that is power, and that is knowledge." Harry frowned as he looked up at Rylan. "They almost seem like wards."

"Clever boy." Rylan grinned and turned Harry over and fucked him until Harry begged for release and Rylan finally reached around and had him coming in three little strokes of his hand.

And just like that Harry's visits to Rylan transformed from an unpleasant, unwanted chore he had to subject himself to with force, to something he genuinely looked forward to doing.

It was the most remarkable thing. One evening Harry sat in the carriage on the way to the castle and he realized he couldn't wait to tell Rylan about the ward he'd made that day and that he was actually looking forward to getting fucked hard and proper.

And then, one night after many months of pretty much the same routine, everything changed.

Once more they were lying in bed after their initial fuck, which Rylan always insisted they have first thing when Harry walked into his rooms. Harry sighed in a way that conveyed a world of frustration and Rylan chuckled as he sat up to pour them both a cup of wine.

"What's on your mind, my boy?" Rylan handed Harry one of the cups and Harry took a long, grateful sip.

"Ugh, I keep getting stuck with reanimation. I've managed a dog, barely, but now I'm trying a monkey and the bloody thing just stays dead no matter what I do." Harry grumbled and drank more wine.

Rylan, the bastard, laughed in his face. "Oh, my sweet boy, to truly reanimate intelligent beings, you have to walk the deathlands first."

Harry swallowed. Ever since he'd heard about the deathlands, he'd been worried about walking them. No, strike that, Harry was bloody terrified, all right, and he wasn't ashamed to admit it. And then something dawned on him and he stared at Rylan who was giving him an expectant look. "Wait," Harry said, suddenly feeling very foolish indeed that he hadn't figured this out before. "You're a necromancer, aren't you."

Rylan's grin was enormous. "Took you long enough."

A huge burst of warmth and dare he say it, affection rushed through Harry as he stared at the older man beside him. Rylan was a necromancer! "You have to teach me," Harry demanded as he shot up in bed.

"What do you think I've been doing, you little fool," Rylan said with a laugh, but Harry didn't let him say anything else because he dove on top of Rylan and pressed his lips to Rylan's mouth. They hadn't really kissed before, but Rylan answered Harry's attempt at once and opened his mouth and then their tongues were duelling while Harry crawled on top of Rylan. Scooting in position, Harry reached behind himself and since his ass was still slick and loose from their first round he had no trouble sliding Rylan's cock inside his body.

They never fucked like this, never with Harry on top and kissing, but Harry couldn't help himself, he really, truly couldn't, because here was the answer to all his troubles, here was a man who liked him enough to be gentle with him and to teach him all about the magic Harry so desperate wanted to learn.

Their fuck was quick and dirty and Harry shot his seed all over Rylan's tattooed chest, but it changed everything.

From then on, Rylan openly spoke about necromancy with Harry, answered all his questions, and Harry started wanting to visit Rylan every day instead of having to wait a few days between meetings.

One evening, Rylan had some tools spread out on the bed when Harry entered the room, his cock already hard in anticipation of their first fuck.

"Come, undress and lay down." Rylan gestured towards the bed while binding a whole bunch of tiny needles together and attaching them to a wooden handle. A jar of black ink and a few pieces of cloth were the other items present. "It's time for you first tattoo, my boy."

Harry blinked in surprise, but then he quickly shucked his clothes and unashamed about his erection he lay down on his back, looking up at Rylan with a wide grin.

"Well, aren't you in a good mood," Rylan said with a chuckle, glancing at Harry's hard cock. "Later, my dear boy. Now, I'm going to give you a personal ward of protection to help you survive the deathlands once you're ready to walk them."

And with that, Rylan dipped the needles in the ink and started gently pounding them into Harry's skin, starting right over his heart and moving across his chest in a swirling pattern. And while it burned a little, the whole time Harry's cock stayed rock hard, knowing Rylan was sharing his own magic with Harry. Drops of blood seeped up through the inked lines, and every now and then Rylan would swipe them up with his thumb and brush it across the red stone he wore around his neck. Harry wondered why that was but when he asked Rylan he simply brushed a kiss against Harry's lips and said he would explain at a later time.

Afterwards, with the brand new tattoos still raw, Rylan fucked him hard and fast and Harry came twice, once even from Rylan pounding inside of him alone. It was their best fuck to date, Harry was sure of it, and he crawled against Rylan's sweaty body and kissed his chest while he mumbled his thanks. Rylan trailed his fingers through Harry's messy hair while he smiled down at Harry with glowing eyes.

But of course, things couldn't just stay nice and peaceful and filled with physical pleasure as they had been. Something had to go and fuck it all up.

A while after Harry got his second string of tattoos, this one of his left biceps, which would give him strength to walk the deathlands, he returned to the school to see the familiar handcart standing in the entrance courtyard, sheet covering what looked to be three small bodies. That afternoon Harry had a private lesson with Karakas, but he found his teacher drunk and maudlin.

"He's asked me to triple them," Karakas said in an unsteady voice while Harry sat down opposite him.

"Triple what?" Harry asked, though he had a heavy suspicion that settled in the pit of his stomach.

Karakas swallowed and took a gulp from the boksala bottle in his hand. "The magical children I bring here."

"Rylan?" Harry asked, stomach swirling until his whole body felt nauseous.

"Yes, your new best friend," Karakas spat, voice full of venom. "While you fuck him, I am to bring him more and more magical children so he can kill them." Karakas stared at him with dark, accusing eyes. "Are you in on this, Harry? Is this something you do with that beast? Fuck little children into their grave?"

"No, of course not!" Harry jumped up, beyond upset Karakas would think something like that of him.

Karakas shrugged as he drank more booze. "You seem so…intimate with him lately, Harry. You practically skip out of here with a spring in your step every time he summons you."

Cheeks burning with shame and guilt, Harry glared at Karakas. He hadn't hated the man in a long time, but he hated him now. "Fuck you. I'm trying to make the best of a very bad situation."

"If that what you're calling it? Playing the whore for that monster?"

Harry all but exploded, his magic bursting out of him, sending his chair and numerous scrolls of paper flying through Karakas' office. "Who the fuck do you think you are, accusing me of playing the whore? You brought me here!"

"To save magic!" Karakas jumped to his feet as well, giving Harry a desperate look that was both pleading and riddled with pain. "To keep magic alive in our world. In the only way I knew how."

"Yeah, but the price of that is more and more dead magical children," Harry whispered, staring at his feet, teeth gritted. "And that's on you." And without waiting for a rebuke or a reply, Harry marched out the door. He was sixteen, almost seventeen. He wasn't going to listen to such verbal abuse anymore.

Harry rubbed his hands across his face in a harsh gesture. Fuck, he wanted that collar off. But to get the collar off, he needed to spike Karakas' tea, and in order to do that, he needed to reanimate a monkey, and in order to do that, he needed to walk the deathlands.

And after many, many talks with Rylan they had decided Harry would get a few more magical tattoos to help protect him and they would wait until he turned seventeen, which was the magical age of majority where Harry came from.

But until that time, Harry was stuck there and he was truly sick and tired of it.

The frustration carried over to his next meeting with Rylan. When Harry entered his bedroom, Rylan made to pull Harry's tunic off, but Harry sidestepped him and turned to glare at him. "What do you need all those magical children for? Why do you keep killing them?"

Rylan slowly narrowed his eyes while he stared at Harry. "Boy, watch your tongue. Remember who you are speaking to."

"No," Harry snarled, utterly done with all the shit around him. "I'm sick of this –"

Harry never got to finish his tirade, because Rylan was on him in a second, one hand clenched around Harry's throat while the other ripped Harry's tunic and loincloth off in one fell swoop. Rylan used a flash of magic to push Harry backwards onto the table and Harry had no choice but to lay down on his back, his legs spread wide. One hand still clutched around Harry's throat, Rylan summoned the oil with his other hand and quickly slathered his cock before ramming it inside Harry's unprepared ass.

Harry cried out in shock and pain. Fuck, that hurt. Rylan took no note of Harry's obvious discomfort but fucked him with hard and rough bucks of his hips, hand clenching ever tighter around Harry's throat until the world around him became smaller and smaller and shadows invaded around the edges and Harry passed out.

When he came to, he was still lying on the table, his ass a raw and sore mess, and Rylan was busy getting his tattoo supplies ready in the bedroom.

Oh, Harry had messed up, hadn't he? He'd well and truly pissed Rylan off. Harry did the only thing he could think of as he gingerly got to his feet and walked quietly into the bedroom.

"Master," Harry breathed, falling onto his knees and pressing his face against Rylan's hip. "I'm so sorry. I was so out of line, and I beg your forgiveness."

Rylan looked down at him with a steady gaze. "Already forgiven, my boy. You've learned your lesson, haven't you?"

"Yes, I won't talk to you again like that, promise."

"Good boy. Get on the bed. Time for your third tattoo." Rylan helped a sore Harry to his feet and Harry lay down, a few tears of sheer gratitude forming in his eyes that Rylan had forgiven him so quickly. The thought of Rylan staying mad at him, of hurting him again, did some very unpleasant things to Harry's chest.

Rylan placed the third tattoo on Harry's right biceps, this one for knowledge to walk the deathlands. And afterwards, Rylan even healed Harry's broken ass before preparing him properly this time. When Rylan spread Harry's legs and slid into him, Harry pulled Rylan down on top of himself and kissed him with everything he had, wanting to, having to make sure Rylan knew Harry wanted to be with him, wanting to learn from him and wouldn't be such a stupid boy again around him.

The next morning Harry was genuinely pleased to receive a gentle good-morning fuck in the bed before Rylan pressed a firm kiss to his lips and went about his day. Harry felt much, much better by the time he made it back to the school.

"Master wants to see you," Broi said. He was their curses and spells teacher, one of the older slaves there, and utterly devoted to Karakas as far as Harry knew.

"Sure," Harry said with a sigh. He didn't want Karakas to spoil his good mood but he also knew it wouldn't be smart to keep the man waiting when being summoned. Karakas may favour Harry to an absurd degree, the man still held all the power over Harry through that blasted collar and Harry didn't want to test Karakas' patience after he'd just received a well-deserved smackdown from Rylan.

"Harry." Karakas seemed relieved to see Harry when he entered. Strangely, Karakas also seemed utterly sober and there was a new clarity in his eyes. "I am happy to see you. Come, I have something for you." And without pause, Karakas pressed a few books and scrolls of paper in Harry's hands.

"Keep these safe, my little diamond." Karakas gave Harry an urgent look with shining eyes. "Keep these out of the monster's hands, promise me."

"I promise," Harry said, because what else could he say. He would examine the texts he was given thoroughly before deciding who he was sharing it with. At the urging of his family, Harry had never shared any of his wizarding magic with Rylan, even though he'd been tempted a time or two to do so.

"Good lad." Karakas gave Harry's shoulder a firm pat. "You're a good lad, Harry. You're going to be so strong one day. I'm proud of you." And then Karakas urged a baffled Harry out of his office.

Harry went, and saw that the teachers' room across the hall was empty and he stepped in there so he could quietly place all the books and scrolls inside his expanded satchel so other people wouldn't get too curious about what Harry now had in his possession. Then he summoned his family to show off his third tattoo. A few of his family were very interested in the runes Rylan used and they all gathered around Harry's arm to study the newly inked inscriptions in Harry's skin when a huge burst of magic literally put Harry on his ass.

One moment he was standing and the next moment he was sitting on his behind three feet further into the room.

"What the fuck was that?" Harry asked while his family looked around in confusion. A few flew out the room to investigate.

Charlus quickly came flying back into the room. "It's Karakas."

Before his great-uncle could say more, Harry ran out of the teachers' room and burst into Karakas' office, where he saw the man hanging from the rafters, a tight noose around his neck, a knocked over chair lying on the floor beneath him.

Karakas was dead and all the magic that was tied to his lifeforce had just disappeared in a literal bang.

As Harry stared at the cooling body of his teacher he was utterly unsure of what to do next.