Name: That Chance.
Author: Lisa Kritzinger, Better known as lisa. demonic. angel
Warning: MAN-SEX (and all that kinky shit that comes with it)
Disclaimer: do I look mental to you? – don't answer that – no I am not crazy enough to claim that I own supernatural or Harry Potter… I do not wanna get sue'd so… please don't sue me for no reason…. M'kay?
IF SMUT OFFENDS, LEAVE THIS STORY, thank you.
This is an edit/repost (fucking site took it done!) So slightly improved/diffrent. Hope you enjoy.
Chapter one.
Harry potter, the boy-who-lived… big fucking deal. The name was thrust upon him when he was too young to even remember, and yet the world just expects him to know how to kill Lord fucking Voldemort… he was seventeen…
Harry was pulled from his thoughts as he brought the bottle of fire Whiskey to his lips and found it empty. He growled, throwing the empty bottle against the wall. The shattering glass held his attention for a mere second before he fell into the dangerous realm of his thoughts once more.
... he was seventeen… he had been forced to learn defensive spells, though at first he had been more than happy, but after the fifteenth time he landed in hospital, and all the mighty Dumbledore could say was "you're not trying hard enough", he had realized that no matter how hard he tried, it would not be enough…
He had put his body through hell, learning every martial art he could master, so that he could please those around him.
But when he had screamed, that he could take no more, that he didn't know how, not yet, those he had thought were his friend, his family, turned on him, cast him out.
Hermione… she had been disappointed, as if she had the right… Harry tugged open the cabinet that was in the appartment he had rented away from his relitives when shit just became too much, and grabbed a bottle of brandy... She had told him that he had put so many people through unimaginable things, and he could just turn them away?
SHE HAD NO RIGHT! He had been eleven fucking years old when he had had so much shit thrown at him, and he had taken it, for THEM.
Harry gulped from the bottle, not even feeling the burn as he sank deeper into his mind…
Ron, his 'best mate' had thrown a fucking fit… gone on about how he always just wanted the fame, but was never willing to do the deed… he had never wanted any of it, he had fucking HATED it!
He watched the bottle slip from his lax fingers before looking up, and he fell to his knees.
"God?" He cried out, begging for the dinaty that should by all right smite him for simply being a wizard, for going against his word. "Please! I'll do anything! Just one angel… that's all I ask, and then, I'll do anything… please!"
He waited, then, begged again; after three hours of praying and begging, he got mad. He picked up the bottle, threw it at the wall right in front of him.
He waited for the noise, for the sting of glass cutting into him, of the burn of liquor in his wounds.
It never came.
Harry opened his eyes, and almost feinted.
A man stood before him, holding the bottle with a studious look on his face.
"Are… are you an-" he began, thinking the man infront of him was an angel.
"Nope, sorry mate." The man interupted him, thick scottish accent ringing lazily through the air. "But I can give you what you need."
"What are you."
"A demon." He said with a smirk, bottel turning in his hands. "You see, if you make a deal, I can give you anything you want…"
"A deal…" Harry's liquor clogged brain was too tired, and decided that is was great, a brilliant plan. "For what?"
"Your soul."
Harry almost laughed. He had planned to, if he ever did win, take his life, because he had no real friends, so what was the point of living. So he'd end up in the same place anyway… well, that's what his depressed drunk mind told him.
Harry looked up, fleetingly thinking that this was the hottest guy he had ever seen, and nodded.
"give me what I need to kill Voldimort in one go."
The demon smirked then strode forward and kissed him.
Harry moaned into the kiss, hands coming up to grip at the mans expensive suit, and made a small sound of protest when he pulled back.
"Names Crowley, by the way." And then he was gone; Harry stood for a moment, before the alcohol became to much and pulled him into a heavy sleep.
The next morning Harry woke up, a name and taste on his lips, and saw a sheet of paper, a simple instruction.
Harry nodded to no-one.
~888~
He stood over Voldemorts body, wand raised and muttered the final incantation, turning the monster into dust and sending his soul on a one way trip to Hell.
He looked around, Hermione was running towards him, a huge smile on her face, and was closely followed by Ron.
"What are you doing?" he asked, anger making them stop.
"Oh Harry, you must be furious with us, but we were right, you could-"
"Shut up. You're not my friends. Bye."
And with that he aperated into his apartment building, only to find himself not alone.
"hey." He said to the demon, sitting down next to him with a huff. The handsome man smiled at him, a glass of amber liqued in his hand.
"So this is most probably going to be a surprise mate." Crowley stared, handing over a glass of brandy. "But you're free."
Harry, who had been in the process of lifting the glass to his lips, dropped the glass with a heavy thunk to the floor. "What?"
"Well, it doesn't usually happen, but when a soul is sent to hell by the damned, who is more wanted in hell, you can get out of the deal. We call it The Chance coz it, like never happens"
"No!" Harry gasped. He hadn't expected this! It was his way out. His chance, and now he wanted to leave him alive!
"What?" Crowley was surprised, this wasn't usually what he got when he told someone they were free… even if he had only ever done it to have a laugh.
"I don't want to live here! They'll find me, where ever I go! Please!"
"Please what?" Crowley had a calculating look on his face, looking Harry over.
"Send me to hell! kill me! ANYTHING!" Harry heard two snaps outside his door, and then banging, followed by Hermione's voice.
"I can do something, but you won't like it. I'm not a mercy killing type of guy."
"What is it?"
"Slavery. You'll be mine. And if I don't want someone to find you, they won't."
The banging got louder, Ron's voice joining Hermione's
Slavery. To a hot gorgeous demon. Who cares if he got beaten, who cares if he was forced to do filthy work. He'd be free of pretenders. He'd know his place. A slave.
"Deal."
So… what do you think? I love Crowley/Harry but can't find much, so I'm making my own. Review please!
EDIT: here you go, reposting of chapter one. Please review, coz even though I have the next chapter, its not edited and I have a lot to do, so motivation always works for me :)