Disclaimer Harry Potter and all its characters belong to J.K. Rowling

Warning! This chapter will contain gruesome and horrific depictions of violence performed upon a small 8-year-old child.

Yeah, this ain't gonna be pretty… for what it's worth I'm sorry.

Chapter – Lynch

*Kathump*

A jostle awakes him, bound, gagged and bleeding. Harry quickly realizes that he is trapped in the dark, probably in a vehicle and all this strikes his consciousness like a blow to the head. His jaw is screaming at him, each bump or movement of the car sets his face ablaze with pure agony, he tries to flex his jaw… it was a mistake. The pain flairs anew and he is forced to muffle the groan in his dry throat as he grips his hands so hard, he feels the bones pop.

*Kabump*

Another large bump sends something to collide with him… it's soft and warm. He shuffles trying to face it, as he does, he feels the blindfold he is wearing for the first time, the darkness makes sense to him now. He drags his head across the floor, it only worsens the pain in his jaw, but he frees one eye from the darkness. He immediately wishes he hadn't.

Her face is familiar but heavily bruised and bloodied, she doesn't move, doesn't react… Roselyn. His eyes itch, he blinks heavily attempting to remove the irritation, he feels grief to such a degree that everything else fades away. Stop! Focus!

He shakes his head and reels back. Pain floods his entire world, but the grief abides to be replaced with fear and a far more useful emotion. Pure, unadulterated, fucking hate. A deep breath and an instance of hard-fought-for focus as his body is forced to bump into hers over and over again. His gift wells up, but it is like a bird with broken wings, a shark with no fins, a wolf de-fanged… we are broken.

His eyes open and he knows that they are bloodshot and fearful, hope seems to sputter and die, embers refusing to ignite. Something touches his face, it's warm and sticky, his head jerks painfully down to see Roselyn's hand cup his cheek… the embers stir, looking up there they are, those eyes are half-lidded, but they are there, open. The embers become a flame, a singular little flame. He feels a strange itch in his eyes again but is too busy sliding his head under hers to care about it, the movement makes his jaw scream at him and his vision blur, but to feel her heartbeat against his forehead… worth it. Looking into her eyes he tries to communicate to her that they will save her, wait, no he will alone, his gift was out of commission. The trunk they are in tilts, the car turning but what is important is for a brief instant he hears voices. His mind comes to a single conclusion, Bugger.

Roselyn gently tugs the gag off his face, he sees her eyes widen and tears crest them in the crimson glare of the rear light. His jaw must be unsightly but that's not the real problem, he can't talk… he can't use his Commands… He was going to die.

He stabs that thought to death with ruthless efficiency and refocuses on getting her out of this alive, he looks around the trunk, but it is empty of everything else besides them, no tools, nothing to grab… clever bastards. He keeps looking, but a whimper from Roselyn alerts him to something horrifying. The car is slowing.

With panicked haste ignoring all pain he puts his hands to her face and pushes her eyelids down, he does the motion two more times and hopes the message got across that she had to play dead. The vehicle has stopped now, he hears the doors open and does the same as Roselyn, letting his body go limp he focuses solely on his hearing. The crunching of their steps on the dirt, means that they are not on the road, some voices are speaking too quietly for his ears to hear clearly, but he knows that there are at least three of them. The boot opens and a searing light focuses on his face, and it is only by the sheer force of will alone that he doesn't react to the bright light piercing his eyelids.

"He's out… you grab him and the corpse… Because I want them out of the fucking car and my arm is broken to shit that's why!" The person who opened the trunk belligerently bellowed at some unheard person. He hears two individuals walk off and two quickly replace them. He feels his body yanked up and dragged out of the trunk, each jostle, each change of direction makes his whole damn body ache, but his face gives off a bloody explosion of pain that eclipses the others. An ungentle toss has him strangling himself to stop a groan. They leave, he is face down, with the dirt pressed to his face, granules sticking to his lips and skin.

A moment of focus allows him to zero in on his gift again, it's so faint, it's as beaten as he is… good then it must still have some fight left in it.

I need you.

A twitch followed by the sensation of revitalization as his gift stretches itself out, barely able to fill him but as it does, he feels like a new man… boy. He knows for a certainty that his face was bruised, bloodied and his jaw was shattered, problematic but nothing Harry couldn't brute force his way through. He didn't have enough energy to use his gift to see around him so he would have to risk it, a glance through his eyelids shows a clearing illuminated by the headlights of two vehicles. In it is a tree… a big tree, they were in a clearing, with a singular big tree, that was surrounded by what he assumed were woods. There would be no shouting for help, they had dragged him out somewhere isolated… an ominous dread crept up his spine. The sound of crunching dirt has him slamming his eyes shut, suddenly another body flops next to him, both sets of feet walk back to the vehicles leaving the two in the dirt.

Another risky peek shows him Roselyn's face, she has her eyes closed but he can see her eyes moving under her eyelids… that could give her away. With a painful strain, Harry forces his gift to connect them and transfer his desire for her to be calm and pretend. Shouting has him slam his eyes shut and focus on the events behind him.

"No, I deserve to know! What the fuck is he dammit? The blighter drags me across a building and slams me into the roof before hurling me into a toilet. With. His. Mind! How the hell am I supposed to explain my arm and Mikes new beauty mark?" Someone screams furiously, going off what he just said Harry had to assume it was the second police officer, the one who threatened Roselyn.

"Aaron calm do-"

"Shut your bloody mouth Polkiss!" A spluttering roar followed by the scuffling of boots and grunting hints at a confrontation.

Good, noise could be helpful.

With the shouting as a cover, Harry digs his hands into the dirt and palms a handful in each. "Vernon! You… you know, what the hell did you drag me into, what the hell was that back at the library, what is he?" The enraged officer demands answers, he hears silence for a moment followed by someone spitting.

"I 'spose after tonight it won't really matter… Fine, you want to know what he is… The freak is a wizard," Vernon, his voice unmistakable explains. Harry listens with bated breath and he hears Roselyn tilt her head causing concern to lance his chest at her risking their charade. "To be specific he is a child freak, the adults are far more problematic, run around dressed like buffoons in bathrobes waving wooden sticks… it would be funny if they couldn't wipe your mind or kill you with a gesture," Vernon explains while he walks past Harry, the others following him. The sound of metal piercing dirt lets Harry know that they are digging over by the tree.

"W-w-what the hell, you're having a laugh right?" Some voice stutters the question and Harry hears the digging stop.

"Ash, you dig… Ned, take a look at Aaron and Mike… now look at the back of Andrews truck… now look at my face, Ned… do I look like I'm joking?" Vernon's voice was terrifying, it was so matter-of-fact, so serious… Vernon was on a mission and Harry felt such a tremble of fear that he was afraid the sound would give him away. He had never been more afraid of Vernon than he was at this instant.

"Wait you said adult ones, are you telling me that there are more of them?" The angry constable, Aaron, asks his voice trembling with fear. A smile threatened to appear on Harry's face.

Good, you should be afraid.

A peal of bellowing laughter broke Harry's happy train of thought, it was Vernon's, and it was not an authentic laugh.

"Oh yeah, a whole society of the blighters, hidden right under everyone's nose," Vernon explained moving again, this time to the edge of the clearing over near the woods. Harry heard rustling from multiple places.

They are gathering things.

"… How do you know all this?" An inquisitive voice asked calmly, Harry recognised it as the smarter officer, the one that had found the bloody rag back at the library. Vernon seemed to pause before he answered slowly, Harry heard the rustling stop and even the one called Ash stopped digging.

"Petunia… She told me all this, her sister… you see she was one of the freaks, a witch… tore her family apart." Vernon's voice was cold… it was the same voice he used when he counted out Harry's lashings or issued him orders. It was cold rage and hard hate given voice. "She was sent off to a school with a ridiculous bloody name, and year by year Petunia watched as her sister became more and more like them, consumed by their society and their way of life." Vernon snapped something in his hand, it sounded like a stick Harry deduced to himself. all the while Harry struggled to formulate a plan but couldn't help but feel annoyed with himself for being distracted with Vernon's story.

"If it ended there with an estranged sister, hah, would be as normal as a family member running off to France or some such… But it doesn't end there, you see the freaks went and had themselves some type of civil war." Vernon continued his voice dropping low a warning Harry knew instinctively that his anger was building.

"You say that like a bad thing, sounds like a dream come true, the freaks killing each other off," Aaron spat, literally. Someone shuffled in the dirt and Harry risked a peak, Vernon hurled an armful of sticks at Aaron his face taking on a reddish tone.

"It's a bloody bad thing when the freaks start going around murdering the perfectly normal family members of some of the other freaks! Say, for example, my bloody in-laws!" Vernon roared his body looming over Aaron his fists clenched hard at his sides, he was clearly resisting the urge to bludgeon the man to death with his bare hands. Aaron tried to say something, but Vernon was quick to cut him off his voice hollering for all to hear. "My father-in-law was a bloody war hero, and his wife was the sweetest lady you would ever meet! And you know what Petunia's freak of a sister tried to claim, that they both died 'perfectly normal muggle deaths,'" Vernon hissed furiously prodding Aaron heavily in the chest. "They died at the same time, on the same night… Pet might have even bought her sisters lie if she didn't go to see the coroner personally… Her father had a knife in his hand when he died of his 'heart attack' that night." Vernon's voice had lost its bluster and its fury, his shoulders slumped, and he backed off of Aaron.

"Jack Evans was a soldier who had survived the entirety of the second world war… but he couldn't survive the evil that these freaks are capable of." Vernon voiced tiredly, he kneeled and picked up the bundle of sticks he had tossed before straightening back up. "The freaks… these wizards and witches are monsters who tread on the lives and happiness of anyone who isn't one of them," Vernon growled striding over to the hole Ash had dug under the tree, tossing the bundle of sticks into the pit before turning to face the gathered men. "That's why tonight I'm going to put down that little monster and then… then I am going to pack up my whole family and we are going to run to the other side of the damn world if need be… because I refuse to let these freaks dictate my family's life for one more damn day." Vernon finished his tirade and stared stonily at the other men, his expression one of confidence and sureness in his decision.

"… Alright then, let's burn us a witch," Polkiss announced walking past Vernon to throw his own bundle of kindling to the pit.

Harry felt his body go rigid and just knew that Roselyn had done the same, he knew Vernon hated him, but he didn't think the sadism in the man went this far… But there was a bright side, if Harry could distract Vernon long enough, they would all be busy trying to pin him or make him hold still. Roselyn could escape. With a nudge from his foot, he felt Roselyn's eyes open just slightly, keeping his eyelashes over his so their glow didn't give him away he made direct eye contact with her and connected them with his gift once more. With focus brought about by fear, pain and a plan, he communicated to her

Distract, run, leave.

Disagree.

Yes! Distract! Run! Leave!

Harry watched her wince as he forced the concepts upon her brutishly, but all too soon the time for planning was over. Heavy footsteps approached them as all the men came to where they had left the two in the dirt.

"… dig another hole for the woman, doesn't have to be deep, will be easier for us to play it off as a crime of passion or something," the steely voice of the calm constable instructed.

"… aight, I gotcha," Polkiss went about grabbing Roselyn and dragging her off to the side of the clearing.

"Now for the monster go grab me the rope, if he wakes up, I can deal with his bloody witchcraft you lot can't, just go get the fire going," Vernon ordered stonily as Harry felt him reach down and grab him by his hair to pull him over to the pit. As Harry was dragged off painfully, he let an eye slide open to catch a glimpse of the other half of the clearing. Perfect he was on the opposite side of the clearing from Roselyn, if he could cause a big enough distraction then Roselyn could easily esc-.

"Wait… is she breathing?" Andrew Polkiss's voice might as well have been a gunshot, as every single person in the clearing turned to face Polkiss and what they had presumed to be a corpse.

*Ba-Thump*

One heartbeat and Harry tensed his arms, they may be bound at the wrist but that would only be a minor inconvenience.

*Ba-Thump*

Another and Vernon's grip on Harry's hair slackened ever so slightly, this would make it easier for Harry to slip from his grip and attack.

*Ba-Thump*

A third and Vernon pivoted his body to face Polkiss, making his face and eyes an easier target for Harry's plan of attack.

"Wha-"

Harry struck, catapulting two handfuls of dirt straight into Vernon's face, the clumps smacking under his nose, granules of dirt rocketing into his eyes. As Vernon inhaled to let out a loud expletive Harry was already kicking his legs into the ground to launch his abused body, slamming his slight frame under Vernon's hip. The additional force to Vernon's instinctive back step sent him off balance, he didn't land in the fire pit full of sticks, but the man was still knocked off his feet and would take a moment to rise. As Vernon impacted the ground, he let out a colossal grunt, alerting the others and more importantly drawing attention from Roselyn to Harry.

The pain Harry felt was numbed by adrenaline and an uncaring victim, Harry easily got his feet under him and stood tall, unable to run he settled for hopping, as he got closer to the edge of the clearing he glanced over his shoulder. Ash and the calm constable were almost on top of him, but his eyes went to Roselyn, she had tripped Polkiss and was getting to her feet. A sense of such profound relief soared through Harry, who quickly refocused on the men closing in on him. With a twist of his hip mid-jump, Harry put himself on his back and loosed a kick at the closest man who happened to be Ash. Without his gift, Harry was but a small beaten child, but a kick with all his force straight to the genitals when the man was mid-sprint was more than enough to send him shooting off to Harry's right and collapsing onto the ground with a vicious groan.

From his position on his back, he saw the calm constable rearing his leg back to unleash a ferocious kick, but it was what he saw behind him that made him let out a garbled scream. Roselyn was limping towards him, a bloody shovel in her hands and an armed Aaron behind her. The ferocious police officer had his truncheon in his one good hand, and he was quickly gaining on her limping gait. Harry's vision was blocked as the constable's kick collided under his chin, his already shattered jaw giving off a level of pain that had darkness clouding the edges of his vision while stars flared to life in the centre. His loose mandible launched into the roof of his mouth catching his tongue and causing Harry to bite halfway through it. One of Harry's k9 teeth even managed to pierce the roof of his mouth jamming it shut at an odd angle.

Harry was sent skidding along the dirt, his ears thrumming with blood and heat distorting his sense of hearing, but his sense of touch was quick to pick up the sensation of someone hauling him off the dirt just as his vision cleared. The cold fury of the calm constable engulfed his vision and Harry hated him more for blocking his line of sight to Roselyn than the assault the man had performed on him. With fury, hate and adrenaline swirling in his body and a mouthful of blood in his shattered gob Harry relied on a base instinct. Letting what little of his gift he had available surge into his mouth, he painfully forced his jaw down freeing it from its impalement to the roof of his mouth and letting a torrent of magic infuse blood splash over the face and hands of the constable grappling him.

He quickly released Harry who fell to the floor, mangled jaw flopping uselessly spilling his enhanced blood over Harry's lap and more importantly the tape around his legs. A bellowing scream of pure agony split the clearing as the constable collapsed to his knees clawing at his face as his flesh sizzled. The tape on Harry's legs followed suit along with some of the fabric on his pants, the magicked blood eating at them. Harry kicked his legs out tearing the damaged tape easily, with his mobility returned his head whipped to Roselyn, his mandible flopping releasing fresh waves of pain that caused another garble groan to escape from Harry's sore throat. She was on the ground waving a shovel to ward off Aaron who was trying to club her, Vernon had rolled to his knees and was being helped up by Ned, while Polkiss was running over to help Aaron.

Clawing himself up to two legs Harry hurled his body forward, his face a grotesque, bloody mess of screaming pain but none of that mattered. Roselyn's shovel was battered aside as Aaron landed a blow to her leg as she kicked at him, Polkiss was less than three meters from her, Harry was more than five. Ignoring anything else Harry let out an inhuman howl made all the worse by his disfigured jaw and pushed on, Polkiss got to her and yanked the shovel from her grip, the moment he did Harry was airborne and wrapped his whole body around the man's skull sending him and the shovel to the ground. As they hit the dirt Harry was shunted off forcefully, but his fury would not be halted so easily. With unnatural ease, he picked himself back up and launched back into the fray. Aaron seeing him rushing towards the downed Polkiss tried to intervene, but Roselyn launched a kick that caught him in the knee sending Aaron twisting to all fours.

Harry jumped into the air bringing his whole weight down on Polkiss, feeling bone and cartilage shatter beneath his feet as he snapped the man's nose. Not stopping for a second as blood thundered in Harry's ears and his mangled jaw drooled a cruel mixture of spit, blood and bile, Harry rushed to Roselyn quickly trying to help her to her feet. She looked to him an enraged snarl on her face, as she got to her legs and pulled him behind her, charging towards the edge of the clearing. A second hand found its way onto the back of Harry's shirt pulling him back with a ferocious tug that ripped the cloth from him fully. Roselyn's eyes tracked him as he was pulled through the air, Harry watched her eyes full of such ungodly wrath, he watched something block his vision, he watched that thing become a man who swung a cricket bat straight into Roselyn's outstretched limb on the forearm. As the arm that had been holding Harry broke and the bone tore through her skin Roselyn slammed her forehead straight into her assaulter's face with vengeful retribution.

Harry kicked and gurgled, he clawed at what had grabbed him only to feel a second hand grab his leg and lift his form into the air. Harry felt himself be swung around and slammed into the dirt unforgivingly. Twice. His lungs had no air in them, and his vision was tinged red and polluted with flaring, dancing lights. His throat was full of blood from his mutilated tongue and breathing was all but impossible. His nose had broken at some point and droplets of blood splashed onto the dirt he laid upon. His ears were muffled noise and the thumping of his own blood as it gushed around inside his skull. Still, this did not stop him, he forced his impaired vision up and watched the fight continue through blood-tinged globes. Roselyn was on the one with the cricket bat, he was screaming, she had her teeth on his throat and even as another person was stomping on her head, she refused to let go. Harry reached his hand out a myriad of thoughts coalescing in his skull, but they all got tangled in his own agony and terror. That same reaching hand was crushed under a colossal work boot his fingers splintering under the force… Harry had no air in his body with which to react, only the flaring of his blood dyed vision and the spasm in his body would have indicated his pain.

Slowly Harry was being dragged back by two men hauling his body as he whipped his mangled hand around and kicked furiously, air having found its way back into his lungs through his ruined face. His Eyes however were pinned to Roselyn as she fought back against three men. They managed to pull her off the bat wielder, with a piece of his flesh clenched between her teeth. A fist caught her face and sent her to the dirt, one man pouncing atop the bat wielder and wrapping their hands around his throat in an attempt to stem the bleeding. The other man, Polkiss, was trying to kick at Roselyn unsuccessfully as she was firing off her own kicks from the floor, her broken arm being cradled to her chest by her working one. A muffled undiscernible shout behind him sent a person hobbling past Harry's flailing form, the figure had one hand cupping his face. He was approaching Roselyn and the other man, he stopped only to scoop up the bat. He was approaching Roselyn from behind her body still on the ground and kicking at Polkiss furiously. Harry screamed with his gurgled voice a horrific alert, which caught her attention.

The bat swung.

Harry's eyes met Roselyn's for an instant.

The bat collided.

Roselyn's head jerked to the right as teeth, blood and spit splattered the floor of the clearing. Polkiss pounced, stomping, and kicking at her stunned form, but the bat wielder took his time raising the bat and bringing it down like a guillotine. It impacted with a crack that pierced the haze in Harry's head. Harry was still screaming, his voice coming out as a wretched, belching, gurgle. One of his captors released his arm with the mangled hand, said figure bolting past him heading to Roselyn's downed form, Harry let out a snort that sprayed a sanguine mist as his devastated hand aimed directly at their back. He couldn't use a Command, his gift was basically a hollow shell at this point, but he didn't care so he began to direct his will but before anything could happen a fat hand with huge pudgy fingers crushed his mangled appendage and yanked it back. Whether or not something would have happened, Harry would never know as Vernon crushed the mess of bones and gore in his cruel grip pinning the flailing boy against his chest.

Harry struggled as Ash blocked Roselyn from his line of sight, Harry writhed and twisted as Ash picked up the shovel, Harry rammed his head back into Vernon's chin as Ash hefted the shovel onto his shoulder. Even as Vernon wrapped a blood coated hand around his gruesome jaw and yanked his head back with excruciating force, Harry watched. Even as a rope was put around his throat, he gazed with blood lust and hate as Ash raised his shovel. When the rope around his throat went taught and Harry was dragged kicking and gurgling to the tree in the clearing, he observed the agony they inflicted on the only person who cared about him.

The shovel impacted.

His body was lifted into the air.

His gurgles became a choked splutter, but still, he clawed and bayed at them, begging, and pleading to his gift that it/they do anything to save her. But nothing happened. When the men broke off from their attack, one rushing to the original bat wielder, one hobbling over to Vernon still covering his face and the other to the back of the work truck, Harry still tried to reach out to her crumpled form.

As Ash came back from the truck jerry can in hand, Harry still stared at her form wanting nothing more than to see her move, see her eyes again. Something wet splashed his legs but he didn't break his gaze. Only when heat and pain raced up his legs did he look down. His legs were ablaze with burning flames that were quickly racing up to his stomach.

His heart was as loud as thunder, his eyes felt as if they would pop out of his skull and his brain felt fit to burst. The fire on and beneath him was quick to unleash fresh hell on his body and as the constant burning sting ate at the flesh on his legs, he looked back to Roselyn.

As his vision darkened, eyes bulging out of his skull, one hand doing everything it could to try and get the noose off, while the other beat back the flames with its destroyed fingers, as his kicks became less violent, and his body began to succumb he gazed at her.

Harry had no fight left to give and so his body stilled as the flames slowly ate at his broken form, turning skin to charred strips. His legs and pelvis were subsumed by flames, his stomach soon to follow. His bloodshot tortured eyes bulging out of his swollen purple face with a grotesque mangle jaw stilled, and his head went limp in the noose. Body swinging from a branch as the flames ate at him, his mind clouding, numbing, fading.

His last thoughts of Roselyn, of their last bit of eye contact.

His bright magical green eyes.

Hers a stunning rich brown.

The last thing she felt in that instant.

Echoing as he hung there ablaze.

My little witch boy.

…

..

.

I know some people do not agree with warnings like the one I gave at the start, but my main goal with this piece is to write something I want to write and have you guys enjoy reading it. The warning is just there so those who do need them can prepare a bit better. Well until next time, thank you for reading, oh and please leave a comment, turns out they are like jet fuel for my writing process.